#hi i made this post because i ... erm... saw some other posts that just horrified me today<3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[comas-are-for-sleeping]

anyway YOU KNOW WHAT THIS EPISODE REMINDED ME OF?? like i will let the magnus people analyze what they do (the obsession theory is SO GOOD winter tell. tell me more) but the tone of it & the last part of- what's his name, augustus?-'s statement sounded So like that one sandman episode, the darkest one in the whole series, i had to pause and be like do i want to clean out my ears

the sandman one like the one where he hides under his blanket and then the monster bruh goes “lmao that wasn’t helping you at all!!”

i actually so love the continued theme of just when the recipient of The Fear thinks it’s done and then BAM it comes right on back. like a fuckin relay race they can never quite catch their breath GJFTIRORFSSKDOD its so good

if one of the overarching themes of protocol is in fact obsession i will lose my shit frfr bc idk if youve noticed but that has been my FOCUS for a little while now. anything i can get my hands on with obsession i immediately devour. so the timing of this?? would be absolutely batshit wild.

i made this post abt it idk if u saw it but like. just the continuous connection between obsession and fear and morbid fascination. and can you be truly afraid if you're not at least a little bit obsessive about whatever it is you're afraid of. OMGDFG realization. the line in the new one "the lines of player and instrument were becoming blurred" or something like that tbh?? i feel like that might apply w the whole avatar/victim deal more-so than it did in tma. in part because of the obsession aspects? in the first episode, the spelunker searched too far and paid for it. in the second one, obsession with appearance/perfection led to just the absolute insanity that it was. the way she described making alterations to herself really reminded me of the feelings i feel when im staring rlly close at my own skin and like. erm. well like picking at it. AND THE TURPENTINE LINE. omfg its so good. and then third episode, he becomes obsessed with what he was becoming and probably other things that i cant articulate at this moment or maybe ever. and then THIS ONE he was obsessed with becoming more powerful/recognized/etc. and in all of these cases they *need* their goal so much that they lose track of reality a little. and think it's all completely normal. painter woman seemed entirely unfazed describing her definitely extremely horrifying experience, plant man literally went "yeah lemme write a paper and oh my wife is here" even though in that same notebook he knows she's dead and he doesn't question her presence??? and then musician bruh over here like "mm yeah so what i had to kill people to play some sweet tunes they sure did sound good, didn't they". all of them are just so nonchalant about Mind Bending shit

[akisata-moved]

a little bit of divine worldbuilding 🕊️

hi everyone! i said i would make a post about my angel worldbuilding and the lore surrounding it, so here we are. let's get into this!

(as a forewarning: this got really long really fast. sorry lol)

i. at the beginning of the universe: what's the deal with god, heaven, and hell?

you know... this guy. ...or, guys? i use they pronouns for god, not because they're nonbinary rep or anything but because the classic collection uses they pronouns for god because they are literally plural. so, multiple guys.

a. the universe's first inhabitants 🌟

we can't have angels (or anything, really) without god. so... what is god?

to put it simply, "god" is a small collective of beings that hail from a primordial race of creatures called aeons. contrary to popular belief, "god" did not create the universe as a whole.

that being said, they WERE the first beings to exist in the universe; gifted with near-immortality and the power of creation, they were essentially burdened the cosmic purpose of bringing the universe to life. think of them as... like, demiurges, really. despite being the first beings in the universe, they didn't really start popping up until ~370,000 years into the universe existing.

(whether or not there is a "supreme" being above them isn't something i've given TOO much thought to. my working idea is that the universe is quite literally a supreme being in itself.)

so, our "god" is not the only ones of their kind. there isn't a large amount of them, but considering the size of the universe and how it's ever-expanding... there's enough of them to go around, you know.

as the early stages of the universe progress, they start to become aware of the existence of each other. it's difficult to be what is essentially a god and be unaware of the presences that surround you.

the attitudes that they held towards each other varied from aeon to aeon. some of them worked in tandem, others remained solitary. some of them competed with others, and others dedicated themselves to watching over their corner of the universe and making it a home.

there weren't many "overstepped boundaries" in the infinitely expanding stretch of space they had at their disposal. in the early stages of the universe, there was no need for that kind of thing. they all mostly stayed in their own lanes.

during the early epochs, they mostly just spent their time experimenting, growing and changing, and learning the ins and outs of their little cosmic playground.

due to the nature and scope of their abilities, and their immortality, they were mostly aware that their exploits were relatively infinitesimal. they had a very acute awareness that every planet and galaxy they created would eventually crumble.

similarly to their attitudes towards each other, the attitudes they held towards their creations varied. some liked to stay disconnected, and hopped from creation to creation, moving on as soon as they finished working on their little project. others were more involved.

in regards to their abilities, they aren't omnipotent. in fact i wouldn't even really call them omnificent. if there was a way to describe what they were able to do, it would be... transmute? the universe provided all the materials for creation, and so it was their job to use their divine power to... make something with it, really. they can't create something out of absolutely nothing. there has to be something for them to make stuff.

they also don't really have any kind of set moral compass. so none of them are inherently evil, good, bad, whatever.

of course, given the fact that they mostly reside in space (we'll get to what exactly "heaven" is in a little), they aren't necessarily bound to one physical shape or form. we love shapeshifters.

b. the devilman "god", and the prison of light 🕯️

the devilman "god" is a trio of aeons who bonded over a certainty and awareness of what they wanted from the universe. they strove to create something perfect— something beautiful. better than every other creation out there. other aeons' work was... sloppy, imperfect, and quite ugly.

as stated before, the aeons aren't necessarily physical beings. that makes it really easy for them to fuse with each other, as they aren't really bound to any kind of physics or laws governing their consciousnesses and bodies.

"so are they a hivemind" not necessarily? they're all just... fused together. the pros of fusing together like that means that one single entity now has the power of three aeons, which lets them do a lot more than if they were all separate, and on a larger scale. god is a throuple

they probably aren't the only aeon group to do this, honestly.

fun note: the devilman "god" never refers to themselves as another aeon. they always refer to themselves as a "god", and it's mainly just because they think they're better than the rest of the aeons lol. i'll be referring to them as god from here on out just because it's easier.

so, then what? god decides that they need a place for themselves. a pocket of space only for them (+ eventually, the angels). they needed a home base of sorts, a place that represented their vision as they imagined it. and so, they created heaven.

so what even is heaven? it's essentially a sub-universe, or a pocket of the universe that god hid away just for themselves.... and for the angels, which were created afterwards.

once again, i doubt heaven is the only realm of its kind. i doubt that god is the only aeon who had the idea for a "home base" of sorts.

heaven started out as a home just for god, but as angelic society grew, it eventually turned into a whole kingdom. that being said, god still has a palace Just For Them at the very top layer of it!

people don't go to heaven. nope. that doesn't happen. mainly because it's not an "afterlife".

after god created heaven and the angels, heaven because a home for all of them. heaven was created to be perfect (in the eyes of its creator), or as close to perfect as god could manage while also having a species with (sort of) free will residing within it.

heaven is almost like a hidden galaxy, except a LOTTT smaller.

heaven is mostly made up of clouds and solid energy. there are actually five layers of heaven; one for each sphere of the angelic choir, one for the Archangels, and one for god.

that isn't to say that the angels are confined to one layer. they can freely travel about, it's just that they'll usually spend time in the layer dedicated to their sphere, unless they're stationed to work elsewhere.

the need for more and more angels became more important as time went on. god became more... power hungry, and they fell harder into the belief that they alone were the ones worthy of the universe. they eventually gained a very hostile attitude towards other aeons and cosmic societies. this wasn't unheard of, really, but considering how most of them stayed in their own lanes, having god be all... aggressive was a little bit of a shock. needless to say, this resulted in the formation of enemies... and other forms of cosmic politics.

heaven and angelic culture has a lot of emphasis on architecture! ...although, not in a way you would expect. the best way i can explain it is that it's very... suess-like.

lots of staircases, lots of columns, lots of... that kind of thing...

while we're on the topic of sub-universes, we can talk a little about hell, too.

hell was actually created by the universe itself, not by the aeons or god or anything. it has always existed, and is sort of a universal collection all life and souls. sorta like the universe's garbage can for all dead things.

it’s less of an eternal resting place and more of an intermediary location you go while the universe works to basically recycle your soul and convert it back to its original state.

ii. what is an angel?: a little on angelic society

a. the angelic choir at a glance📜

angelic society as a whole is referred to as the angelic choir.

the main thing about angelic society is that it's split into different spheres based on how much power an angel has/the specific task they were made to do.

why do angels exist in the first place? they were made to be servants of god, and basically do everything that they do... for them. so, deliver messages, be soldiers, do tasks and chores and watch over the things god makes... all that kind of thing.

angels have free will, but were created with an ingrained sense of duty that usually outweighs said free will. or perhaps it influences their free will. hard to tell. that being said, most angels will not do anything if it directly contradicts their purpose.

also, angels are not inherently “good” aligned. like I said, they have free will, which means they have choices. angels can be shitty people! whether or not an angel “falls” has nothing to do with what their character is like, and everything to do with whether or not they are defiant to God.

not a lot of angels do defy god, either. an angel being kicked out of heaven is pretty rare.

anyways, back to the angelic choir... there are three spheres of angel, each with three types of angel in them. the highest ranking angels are the first order of the first sphere, and the lowest ranking are the third order of the third sphere. yeah.

in the first sphere you have the seraphim, cherubim, and thrones. the first sphere angels are the only angels that tend directly to god.

the second sphere is made up of the dominations, the virtues, and the powers.

the third sphere consists of the principalities, the arches, and the angels (generic term).

Archangels are above the first sphere in rank. they're the most powerful angels, and there aren't very many of them.

b. archangels and the angels of the first sphere🔥

Archangels, as stated before, are the most powerful angels and the ones with the most important duties. they're mostly angelic supervisors that manage angels with different specialties. who are the archangels? before lucifer's fall, there were eight different archangels.

jophiel (archangel of wisdom and inspiration), chamuel (archangel of divine justice), gabriel (archangel of revalation), raphael (archangel of healing), uriel (archangel of truth and light), zadkiel (archangel of healing), and, of course, michael (archangel of strength and courage) and lucifer (archangel of love and empathy).

the first sphere angels are the angels that are closest to god, and the only ones that can interact where with them directly. they're the least... replaceable angels, except for the archangels. that's why they don't really leave heaven.

the seraphim are the bodyguards of the throne, and those who directly guard and protect both god's palace and the different layers of heaven itself. they're stationed just about everywhere on the fifth layer of heaven, and then scattered about in the other layers just to keep an eye on everything. they're also stationed at the entrances and exits.

they're busy a LOT of the time. they take their jobs very seriously.

the seraphim are the angels that interact the most with god. the cherubim and the thrones do, too, but not as frequently.

the tradition when interacting with god is to cover their faces and bodies with their wings when interacting directly with them. it's a sort of humbling thing, to show that they regard themselves as lesser than them. just out of respect.

the cherubim are the celestial recordkeepers of heaven, and the ones that really hold the knowledge of god and heaven.

they're known for their wisdom, and they keep records of everything that happens in their part of the universe. nothing goes undocumented, really. heaven's historians are also cherubim.

along with keeping records of events, they also keep track of all of the angels that are created, and those that come in and out of heaven. and those who go out and dont come back. yeah.

jophiel is the archangel who supervises the cherubim.

the thrones are some of the most intellectual angels and have wonderful minds. they serve as both teachers, guides, and counselors for the lower ranks of the angels.

they're the ones in charge of receiving orders from god and dishing out duties to the lower ranks (dominations, mostly) and explaining them. celestial teachers, really. they're very engaged with the rest of angelic society, and are always willing to offer an explanation or a helping hand to other angels.

they're also the head order that deals with cosmic laws and making sure everything that god makes works the way it's supposed to. god doesn't really have time to keep everything in check themselves, so it's up to the thrones and the virtues to make sure their creation... functions like it should.

lucifer was supposed to the archangelic supervisor of the thrones...? but, uh... that didn't exactly.... uh.... work out....

after lucifer was cast out, jophiel was put in charge of both the thrones and the cherubim. it's a lot of work for one angel, really, but she doesn't mind.

c. angels of the second and third spheres☄️

the first order of the second sphere is the dominations. think of these guys as... well, management.

they're in charge of managing the angelic kingdoms, and of regulating the second sphere angels in lower orders.

they help keep everyone organized. there's a lot of things to keep track of.

the dominions get their orders from the thrones (who receive orders from god), and pass along orders to the principalities in the third sphere along with the virtues and powers. it's just a big chain.

zadkiel is the archangel in charge of the dominations rank. he also deals with some of the stuff that the principalities handles, but mostly sticks to dominations.

the second order of the second sphere is the virtues. if seraphim are the guards and watchers of heaven itself, then the virtues are the watchers of the universe (well, god's part of the universe, anyways).

they watch over everything god creates, from planets, galaxies, luminaries, and other celestial bodies to make sure the cosmos are in order. and that nothing is going wrong.

they work closely with certain thrones angels for this reason.

it's actually very important to make sure shit isn't going wrong. especially considering how their god's... hostile attitude... attracts some not so friendly faces.

uriel is the archangel in charge of the virtues, and because of the close ties between the virtues and the thrones, he quickly became good friends with lucifer.

the powers are the third order of the third sphere, and they make up the angelic army.

can basically be split into two groups— soldiers and healers. the soldiers were originally led by chamuel, but the job was pretty much taken over by michael once he showed up, and chamuel instead switched gears to deal more with strategizing after that. raphael supervises those more geared towards healing.

running an army is hard work, turns out. there's a lot that goes into it.

the third sphere is the most populous sphere; they're like worker bees. they're very easy to replace, and are very expendable.

third sphere angels actually leave heaven a lot. they deal with intergalactic relationships.

in the first sphere, the principalities are the main managers of the lower-ranking arches and angels. they're very similar to the dominations in that regard, and they actually get their orders from them. like i said before... it's a big chain.

they're the ones that are stuck dealing the most with cosmic politics.

arches are celestial envoys, while your everyday angels work as messengers, running back and forth between heaven and other places in space. angel postal service!

the angels and arches are also assigned most of the mundane tasks not given to any higher ranks.

usually the angels go out in groups, because there's safety in numbers, and space is REALLY big. at least one arch will accompany an angel group, and on occasion, a principality will come too, depending on how important things are.

that being said, there have been many, many instances where angels don't come back. sometimes they get lost. this happens more often than it should.

gabriel is the head messenger archangel. he's the postmaster. angel. guy.

d. okay i'll bite. what are angels made of. aka, angel physiology 🌠

angels are special. lol.

they're made of photon energy (in the case of most angels) and thermal energy (in the case of seraphim).

(lucifer is an Archangel, so he is... as stated above, made of photons.)

as stated before, god can't create something out of nothing. the energy needed to create angels actually is specific to the energy emitted from dying stars. every angel comes from the death of a star.

so, this means a couple of things. first of all, as angels are created, not born, they don't actually have a functional reproductive system. because they weren't created with the intention of reproduction. the genitalia is decorative essentially tbh. also, every angel looks like this. it's definitely not a reproductive thing. it's entirely aesthetic.

"romance" is essentially nonexistent in angel culture. uh, they all see each other as some kind of equivalent of siblings, considering they were all made directly by the same creator. they all refer to god as their parents, and so they all see each other as siblings.

(that being said, it's not like they're incapable of love or anything. ryosatanlucifer retains his feelings for akira even after he turns back into an angel, so it's not like he can't feel love or anything like that. i mean, that should be obvious, but i felt the need to specify anyways)

the second thing this: angels lack all forms of physical sensation. their bodies are... kind of numb to all sense of touch, taste, smell, etc. they are, in some circumstances, intangible. what does that mean? well...

sorry for having so much stuff from go nagai world.... we never got to see satan in the actual ovas </3

they can float through stuff sometimes. their tangibility (on earth) is actually up to them. so, for example, if they wanted to, they could float through a door. or they could open a door by turning the doorknob. though, they wouldn't be able to experience the sensation of actually touching the doorknob.

anywho. there are actual a few variations of angelic appearance depending on what rank of angel they are! i have... erm... drawn a few examples of some of the angels, but not a whole lot? ahh.... there they are anyways. some of the descriptions are a little outdated bc i've changed into since then but YEAH!!

Archangels, at the very top of the angelic choir, are beautiful with 12 large snow-white wings— two on the head, two from the shoulderblades, two on the middle back, two on the lower back, on on each arm and one on each ankle. they’re all nearly identical- though, most of the angels within each order looks nearly identical. they’re identical in the way that cats of the same coat color and breed are identical. michael and lucifer are actually identical, though, because they’re like real life twins, and are born from the same star. yeah!

seraphim are made from condensed thermal energy rather than light energy. they’re super hot. Lol. they have 10 wings (head, shoulders, lower back, arms, and ankles) unlike the Archangel’s 12. They’re warmer in color scheme than the Archangels, which are usually a sort of yellow-white color? they glow. seraphim are more red-orange because they’re… heat. They also have the ability to manifest flames out of their body, though it’s kind of just for show considering how it can't really do anything.

the cherubim are covered in eyes. or, their wings are covered in eyes- they have 8 of them! wings, I mean (head, shoulders, lower back, and ankles). they have way more than eight eyes. Also, they can open eyes up on their bodies when they get really stressed or angry! it’s a fun neat cherubim trait. all the cherubim are so tired. let them go home please.

the thrones are the third order in the first sphere of the Angelic choir, and these are our ringy-boys. they're the angels with the most emphasis on halos- they can make them spin really fast and manifest more rings around them whenever they feel strongly or honestly just when they want to. they’re usually surrounded by them, just as a sort of status thing. they typically serve as messenger angels (delivering orders to the second sphere) and bodyguards for the cherubim. they have 6 pairs of wings (head, shoulders, and lower back).

from there on out appearance is mostly dictated by sphere— second sphere angels (dominations, virtues, and powers) have two sets of wings (on the head and the shoulders), while first sphere angels (principalities, arches, and angels) have only one set of wings on their shoulders, and look pretty similar to the standard depiction of angels.

e. some more about angel culture in general

i just wanted to share some more fun little details about angel culture, because there IS stuff beyond work for these guys lol

society is really easy to be sustained when there's no need for "hard labor", and when everyone is created with a sense of purpose. and the fact that they don't really need to eat or anything.

since there isn't much of a need for extra work outside of everyone's Assigned Jobs, when there is free time, it's mostly dedicated to the arts. there's actually a LOT of focus on art in angelic culture!

though, it's a lot less... genuine? than "human art". the idea of "perfection" is heavily exalted in angelic society, mainly because that's what god wishes for, and god is the One Real Authority in their society. a lot of angelic art tries to reflect this idea of perfect beauty that they've had drilled into their heads from the beginning of their existence.

of course, perfection is unachievable for the angels. so sad.

art that depicts any kind of "flaw" is entirely unheard of. angels are the ultimate perfectionists.

since none of the angels actually LOOK at god (the archangels and first spheres cover their eyes with their wings when they come in direct contact with them), a lot of art is actually of god. it's always sort of a contest to see how perfectly and beautiful they can depict god. it's a form of worship, really.

they do have a written language. but "novels" aren't really a thing. they aren't super big on fiction. what's the point of that?

instead, they use written language to keep historical accounts, archive events, and write PSALMS. so so many psalms. they really love to write music dedicated to praising their god.

"music" in quotes, because it's... not exactly comparable to human music. it's angel music, guys. cmon.

they also like writing poetry a lot.

because of the way they worship perfection in art/writing, things end up feeling a little bit... sterile? yeah.

obviously, since they are in space, they don't use any kind of timescale similar to days/hours/weeks/etc. there's a sort of "day" equivalent in which things are a lot... brighter? but that's really it.

angels don't age, either. they have no concept of age.

they do have another consistent method of keeping time, though, and it's based on how long it takes for angels (third rank of the third sphere) to be created. lower rank angels are really being produced at a constant rate, to make up for losses, so it's easy to divide time this way. the time it takes to make one angel = one angelic "day".

they don't really have any equivalent of years, instead naming longer periods of time (ages) after whatever archangel was created last. so, the age of gabriel, or the age of uriel.

when michael and lucifer were made At the same Time, the cherubim got into a lot of arguments over who to name the age after. it wasn't like there was any way to choose between the two.

so they just decided on both eventually. lol. they called it the age of lucifer and michael.

after lucifer well, a new Age started. so the age of lucifer and michael and the age of michael are two separate time periods.

michael is sooooooooooooo cocky about that, too. what a bitch.

anyways, like stated before, the idea of perfection is super important to angels. to them, god represents the ULTIMATE perfection.

and on that same note, talking bad about god, and going against god's will, is a very big NO!!!!!!. they REALLY do not do that.

.......okay!!!!!!!! whew!

that was a LOT, but if you read all the way through... mwah! thank you so much for listening to my thoughts!!!! i might make a separate post about lucifer's history/his relationships with the other angels/his fall later on. but for now.... here's just some basic stuff about angels and how they work!!! yeah!!!!!

[tealquacks]

They Share a Kitchen 3: Grocery Gathering

Originally posted here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24317644/chapters/58625389

@alexalexisalexej

I’m sorry this took so long, but I hope y’all enjoy!

It had been a little over a week since Remus made the croissants, and the daily routines still hadn’t quite recovered. At breakfast, Virgil showed up ten minutes later than usual, and stood nervously in the doorway, checking to make sure nobody unexpected would be in the kitchen. Roman never came to visit the kitchen, but Patton brought him meals three times a day— 9:30 am, 1:20 pm, and 5:50 pm. Virgil would occasionally join him. 

Patton and Janus still met for tea every single day, but they never stayed in the kitchen anymore. Patton would ask Janus to take walks with him. They’d stroll through Roman’s side of the imagination, then drink their tea and talk. The only reason Logan knew this was because Patton brought it up at dinner one night. Virgil left shortly after. 

The only people who remained unaffected were Remus and him. They kept to their usual schedules. Except now Logan found himself staying up late to talk to Remus while he cooked. He had yet to make paella— something about wanting to save it for a special occasion.

Every day felt like a special occasion. Logan couldn’t help but stare at the charts he had made, one pre-Remus, and one post-Remus. Color coded and organized. Pristine.

“It’s surprising,” Logan had said at breakfast that morning, eating some waffles Patton had made, “that Remus spending one day in the kitchen threw all of our schedules into chaos.”

Virgil glared at him silently. Patton stared down blankly at his waffles.

“I don’t like him,” Patton murmured.

“You seem to get along with Deceit just fine,” Virgil spat, lip twitching in silent anger. Patton sighed.

“His name is Janus, Virgil. Be polite.”

“Why should I care?”

“Because it’s rude to call him Deceit— Logan, how would you feel if we only called you Logic?”

Logan sat straight. If he said he didn’t care, that would be mostly honest. If he said he did care, that would make it seem he had some sort of emotional attachment to his name. He swallowed.

“I don’t care either way. However, Janus now seems to prefer we address him by his real name. Besides, deceit is not his only function.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, staring angrily down at his plate of waffles. That was the end of the conversation at the breakfast table. Logan ate in silence, slowly sipping water out of a glass with a lemon on the rim. 

Now, he sat at his desk. The clock said it was 2:28 pm. The kitchen would be perfectly empty, since Virgil and Patton no longer had their little talks in the kitchen. Logan didn’t know where they went, and he didn’t care to ask. Of course he worried about them, but he didn’t think where they talked mattered so much. He set down his pen, thinking of when Roman had run from the kitchen in horror, Remus doing nothing but sitting at the table.

Suddenly, someone knocked at his door. Logan stood from his comfortable office chair, and walked to the door. He adjusted his tie and smoothed his hair down before calmly opening it. That calm facade almost broke when he saw Remus on the other side, wearing a painfully bright yellow bucket hat, a fishnet shirt, and a green pair of cargo shorts. He had a bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hello, Remus.”

“You remember how you said I should make paella? Well I thought real long and hard and I thought that you could not only help me with the cooking but you could also help me with gathering the shit that goes in it! Like clams and mussels. One recipe says squid but I’ve honestly never cooked with squid and I’m not interested in fucking with that.”

Logan blinked, slowly trying to take in the information, and the sight of Remus before him. Remus never came to his room. Nobody did. It seemed like there had been an unspoken rule made, that he was never to be interrupted. Now the matter at hand.

“You want me to accompany you in collecting the ingredients?”

Remus nodded violently, causing the bright hat to flop off his head. He picked it up, and put it back on. Logan blinked.

“I’ll take that as a yes. And this involves going under the water?”

“No shit Sherlock! That’s where the mussels are! Unless you count these guns—“ Remus flexed his arms, a stunning smile on his face. Logan looked at the bag he carried, then to the yellow hat on his head.

“I think it would be best if you changed into something more… sensible.”

Remus wagged his brows, leaning up against the doorway.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m wearing a speedo under these shorts.”

“I meant the hat. It will make you very, very visible.”

“It’s okay,” Remus rebutted, “I think fish are colorblind. Maybe. Do you know?”

Logan gnawed on the inside of his lip. He didn’t know. He couldn’t say so, that would be seen as weakness. But Remus was… different, somehow, uncaring about strength and weakness. He took a slow, deep breath.

“I honestly don’t know,” Logan responded, “most fish only see two colors, but I’m unsure how many can see yellow. However, if your plans are to go underwater, it would be wise to forgo the hat.”

Remus shrugged, took off his hat, and tossed it into Logan’s room. It landed on the neat sheets of his bed.

“We won’t be in the water the whole time,” Remus said, “we still have to get other things? Like, erm, I don’t have the recipe on me but we’re almost out of apples, and honey— honey will be a bitch to get but you know what I have?”

Logan furrowed his brows, staring at the bag.

“A beekeeping suit, a smoker, and an apiary of some sort?”

“Nope! Just my morning star and overwhelming hubris!”

Logan didn't know what he’d expected. Of course Remus wouldn’t go about getting honey in any sort of logical way. 

“There are other things we will need.”

“You have a special request?”

Logan shook his head.

“I don’t. But paella requires saffron,” Logan explained. “Saffron is derived from the stigma of Crocus sativus.”

“Huh? What’s uh….” Remus trailed off, snapping his fingers a few times. “What’s the common name of that?”

“They are also known as autumn crocus, or saffron crocus. Do you know where these flowers grow?”

Remus raised his eyebrows, tapping his fingers to one another— thumb to index, thumb to middle, thumb to ring, thumb to pinkie. 

“Lemme think… I have a spice garden in my side, but I didn’t know that saffron came from a fucking flower! But I do have a bit of land I could… flowers. Goddamn! Saffron from flowers! That’s pretty cool! I have to ask— how did people think of putting it on shit?”

Logan suppressed a smile as Remus flapped one of his hands a little. It felt nice, being asked harmless questions, not being interrupted. Even then, he couldn’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop, for Remus to tell him to shut up. He took a deep breath.

“It is commonly believed that saffron originated in Greece, however most of it is grown in Iran, I believe.” He paused, giving Remus ample time to say something. Instead, Remus waved his hand at him.

“Well? Go on.” 

Logan shifted from foot to foot.

“Saffron is incredibly expensive due to the fact that one flower only produces three strands when it blooms, and the flowers only bloom for one week each year. Saffron has been used and cultivated by humans for more than three thousand and five hundred years, and has been used not only as a seasoning, but also as a dye, fragrance, and medicine.”

Remus grinned, eyebrows raised. 

“Cocaine used to be used as a medicine! Freud diagnosed it to some of his patients for depression, I think! Did you know that cocaine, like meth, can cause people to hallucinate vermin crawling under their skin? And they’ll scratch at their skins to get them out!”

“Ah, yes, delusional parasitosis, also called formication.”

“Fornication?”

Logan shook his head.

“I doubt formication and fornication could be mistaken for one another, unless ones idea of fornication is subdermal penetration.”

“Oh, talk dirty to me!” Remus cried, rolling his shoulders. Logan couldn’t stop his lips from twitching up into a small smile, but turned his expression back to a straight face as quickly as he could. 

“So what are you looking to retrieve?” Logan asked. Remus reached into one of the many pockets of his cargo shorts, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He dramatically unfolded it.

“Apples, honey, saffron, I guess, and mussels and clams and whatever else we may find. So is that a yes?”

Logan paused for a moment. He’d been to Roman’s side of the imagination, and the land was bright and beautiful, filled with fantastical creatures and lush landscapes. However, Remus was the opposite of Roman, or at least the bits of creativity that Thomas considered unpleasant enough to purge from his consciousness. So what did that include? The horrifying, the macabre, and the explicit. Dicks, drugs, and the disturbing. None of it could hurt him. And judging by the fact Remus sought him out to come with him, he wouldn’t even be threatened. As long as he was cautious, he would remain unharmed during their journey. That was reasonable enough to assume.

 But what about the others? He would be expected back at dinner, which was at five pm. That would only give him two and a half hours with Remus, and time seemed to go much faster while around him, probably something to do with how Remus’ nature distorted reality around him, that reality including the way one would perceive time passing. Logan looked into his room. If he left the door closed, the others wouldn’t bother him. Patton would leave dinner outside of his door, he’d done it before, many times, but he wouldn’t come in. So he could miss dinner. If they asked questions, he could say he was busy. And they’d believe him.

Logan stared at the yellow bucket hat, garish and blinding on top of his sheets. He swallowed.

“Yes, I will accompany you.”

Remus flapped his hands expressively, smiling like a million and a half suns. He hopped from foot to foot, then did a little spin. 

“Fuck yeah! I’ll let you get changed, meet me in the kitchen as soon as possible! It’ll be so much fun!”

Just as Logan opened his mouth to tell Remus he would be wearing his usual clothing, Remus sprinted away. He let out a deep sigh. He wore his usual outfit— black dress pants, a black polo, indigo tie, dress shoes. Comfortable and professional. If he were to open his closet, there would be exact clones of the exact same outfit. Of course there was always the clothing he wore on Halloween, but a bulky, velveteen coat would be even less practical. The Sherlock costume would be out of the question, and he’d long since gotten rid of his onesie. 

So that left him in his typical outfit. However, the tie around his throat could possibly get caught and damaged. Logan touched his striped indigo tie, and slowly loosened it. Halfway through doing so, he realized he would look like an absolute fool without his tie. Even to Remus. Logan pulled the tie tight, so tight it almost choked him, and walked out of his room, slowly shutting the door behind him.

Logan silently crept through the hallway then down the stairs, making sure to skip the one squeaky step. If Virgil caught him with Remus, willingly spending time with him… well, he didn’t know how he would react. Virgil hated him, saw him as a nuisance, and there certainly was some history between the two of them. He had no clue what, despite the fact Virgil had once been a ‘dark’ side. 

He stepped into the kitchen. Remus sat on the table, kicking his legs back and forth. Somehow, even wearing those ridiculous clothes, he looked like he belonged in the kitchen. Logan pushed his glasses up. Remus smiled at him, hopping off of the table and grabbing his arm in a tight grip. His hands felt burning hot.

“Are you ready to go?”

Was he? If the others—

“—Yes, I am.”

Remus tugged on his arm, and they both sunk down into the white tile of the kitchen floor.

A gust of warm, sweet air hit him in the face. Logan gasped at the sensation, staggering backwards. He tripped on a stone, and landed on his ass in tall grass. All around them grew wildflowers and grass, and the clouds gently danced in the sky. The flowers swayed in the wind, blossoms of all hues growing around them. Truly, a beautiful landscape. Strange.

“Is this your side of the imagination?” Logan asked, ignoring Remus’ offered hand in favor of standing up by himself. 

“Yup! Wild and uncivilized. I had an idea for a monster— it’s an intelligent being that’s made of fungi that connects to the roots of plants, like how a brain makes neuron paths! Earth brain! We’re currently standing upon the brain of the smartest being in the imagination! Well, except for you, now that you’re here.”

Logan nervously looked down at his feet, face flushed. He really didn’t want to ask what the thing looked like, but his curiosity begged him to. His ego, meanwhile, preened at the small praise.

“Does it have a body?” Logan asked, “does it need to feed?”

“Yes to both questions!” Remus proclaimed, “The body is like. Laying down sort of? It’s like a big, smart pancake! And it eats! Don’t worry, it won’t eat us. Or any other side. Or cows since it’s lactose intolerant. But it won’t eat any sentient beings, like us sides! Except for Roman and his creations of course.”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Why only him?”

Remus twirled around, then pointed off into the distance. Logan looked to where he was pointing, and there in the horizon he spotted a massive palace, one he immediately recognized as belonging to Roman.. 

Remus opened his mouth, then suddenly shut it, a manic smile splitting his face. 

“Look, here comes a unicorn! Oh, you’ll love this.”

And just as Remus had said, a white stallion with a gleaming horn pranced into the field of flowers. It wandered forward, then bent down and started to graze. As it opened its mouth to take a bite, the plants suddenly burst to life, wrapping around the unicorn. It fought and kicked as the thick grass dragged it to the ground— no, into the ground, as if the prairie earth had turned into quicksand. The unicorn whinnied and thrashed, until it was pulled fully under the ground, horn disappearing in the thick foliage. 

“It absorbs its prey, like a protist.” Logan said breathlessly. If he could feel, he wouldn’t know if he felt shocked or impressed. 

“Yeah! This land, in like a mile wide stripe, is the border between my land and Roman’s. And I don’t want anything to do with his shit. So anything that comes over here gets chomped up by Bartholomew!”

“Bartholomew?” Logan asked.

Remus crouched, patting the ground. He flopped onto his front, pressing a little kiss to the earth.

“It goes by Bart for short. And don’t worry, we had a conversation and it’s fine with it/its pronouns. Anyways what should we get first?”

Logan stared at the earth, shifting from foot to foot. Thousands of questions were bubbling in his head, but Remus had brought him to gather ingredients, not to ask questions. 

“Apples,” he croaked out. Remus leapt to his feet, looking him in the eye.

“I said it won’t absorb you. It only eats Roman and Roman’s shit. And even if you did get eaten, you’d be able to sink out. You’re safe.”

Logan inhaled slowly, then let out a deep breath. He didn’t care if he was safe. He wanted to ask how Bartholomew dissolved its prey, what acid it used to break down prey, he wanted to ask about the ph of the soil—

“Let’s go get the apples,” Logan insisted.

Remus nodded.

“The orchard is like, ten miles away? I don’t know but I can teleport us. Will it make you puke? Since Jannie told me that when he and Patton were in the imagination they saw Roman and Roman teleported them away from him and then Patton puked his guts up!”

“I don’t puke,” Logan explained, “I’m not human, and I can’t pretend to be.”

“You are a part of a human. Anyways, let’s go!”

Remus grabbed his arm, and the world shifted around them, the ground fell out from under his feet— for an instant, he felt like he was flying and falling all at the same time.

Then the ground appeared again. Logan stumbled. The sun was filtered through the branches of tall trees, taller than any apple tree he’d seen. The ground felt hard, and thorny bushes grew between each massive tree. Strangely enough, even though the air felt warm, the branches had no leaves, as if winter was coming. Logan looked down at his feet. The earth was covered in a layer of frost. He crouched down and touched it, and his fingers brushed coarse weeds and warm frost.

“This is fascinating,” Logan said. He scooped a little bit of frost into his hand. It didn’t melt. 

“How so?”

“Where do I start? The trees— they’re far too tall to be apple trees, yet they still bear fruit. And they have no leaves, which raises the question of how they perform photosynthesis. Not only that but the ground is covered in frost, and the frost is warm. The frost is warm, but it also doesn’t melt in my touch. Truly fascinating.”

Remus flicked his wrist, and a red apple the size of a fist fell into his palm.

“I like the way that frost looks, but I fucking hate the cold! So I made this place! And the branches are high so I can climb them and see out above the entirety of the land! But if you take issue with the height of the trees…”

Remus took a bite of the apple. He stomped his foot. Suddenly, one of the trees shrank, smaller and smaller, until it was the size of an actual apple tree. Ripe, beautiful apples hung off the branches.

“There,” Remus said, “that should be low enough for you to reach.”

“I’m not that much shorter than you,” Logan said, “do you have something to keep the apples in?”

Remus reached into the bag, and pulled out a wicker basket. Logan almost asked how he managed to do that, but realized it would be pointless. This was Remus’ land, it ran by his rules.

“I have a question!” Remus proclaimed.

“Go ahead,” Logan said, silently glad Remus had gone back to asking questions.

“Why are you so touchy about shapeshifting? Like. You never do it. I mean when the cameras aren’t rolling. You look exactly like Thomas and you never change it up!”

Logan froze. He pulled an apple from one of the branches and set it carefully in the basket.

“Patton is emotionally unstable. Virgil is a ticking time bomb. Roman tends to prioritize fantastical ideals over reality. Janus is level headed, but Thomas only just accepted him. And I’m unsure if he’ll ever accept you.”

Remus took another big bite of the apple.

“And what does this have to do with you not shapeshifting?”

Logan sighed.

“Thomas needs someone to be steady. Someone for him to rely on and trust no matter what the situation is. I don’t want to lose his trust.”

Remus giggled. Logan picked another apple.

“He trusts Patton even when he’s a fucking puppet. It’s not about trust, is it?”

Logan set the apple down in his basket.

“How many of these do we need?”

“Fuck if I know, fill the basket. But if it’s not about trust, then what is it about?”

Logan picked an apple, staring at the deep red color. He rubbed it against his polo, and he could see his reflection.

“Thomas hasn’t been listening to me as much as he should. I’m hoping that if I maintain the same appearance as him, he’ll be more inclined to listen to what I have to say.”

Logan stared at the apple. He shouldn’t be here. If the others found out he’d spent so much time with Remus, then what would they think of him? Would they consider him a friend anymore? That plus the fact he was picking apples, something they didn’t even need to do because they could be summoned with the snap of a finger. He didn’t need to eat. Logan set the apple in his basket.

Remus hummed. He flicked his wrist again, and apples began to rain from the sky. They struck the ground hard enough to bruise, and the noise they made was thunderous.

“Do you think the apple rain helps or diminishes the experience of apple picking?”

Logan stared up at the sky— cloudy, with a chance of apples.

“I don’t think catching apples in a basket counts as picking.”

“But it does count as fun!” Remus insisted.

“It’s not very effective.”

“Really now? Watch this!”

Remus pulled another wicker basket from the bag, and held it above his head. One, two, three apples hit the basket hard. The fourth made a sickening crunch as it hit the basket, and Logan flinched.

“What was that?”

“Some of the apples have bones!”

Logan furrowed his brows, looking at Remus. Another apple fell into his basket, thankfully lacking the crunching.

“An odd feature for an apple to have. What are the purpose of the bones? Structural stability? Do the bones assist in reproduction?”

“None of that!” Remus responded, “I just like the crunch! And Jannie likes the extra calcium!”

Logan nodded. Somehow, the fact that nothing made sense was logical. This was Remus’ land, it obeyed him. He plucked another apple from the tree.

“You know, Logan,” Remus said after a moment,  basket held over his head, “I think you’re Eve.”

Logan raised his eyebrow.

“And what do you mean by that?”

Remus shrugged. Another apple landed in the basket with a crunch.

“Well, you see, Eve ate the apple from the forbidden tree, because she wanted to know the difference between good and evil, she wanted to see like god. In all honesty, I don’t think she was tricked. She knew what she wanted. She knew what she was getting into. She was just scared to be held liable. She was scared of the judgement.”

Logan plucked another apple from the tree. He had to stand on his toes to reach it. What Remus was saying made no sense. If God had dropped him in the garden and told him to not eat the apple, he would’ve followed the rules. And he certainly feared no judgement. Certainly.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t? So you would have rather stayed ignorant? Unharmed by what you don’t know?”

Logan froze. Remus continued talking.

“I remember Janus told me you really went off at him when he suggested that ignorance is bliss. So, I think you’re just like Eve. I mean, would you give up peace for knowledge?”

Logan plucked another apple. Of course he would. What he wanted more than anything was a life full of books and reading, knowing everything there was to know. Being an academic.

“That isn’t my choice to make. Thomas has chosen his path in life.”

“But what if it was your choice? Then what would you do?”

Logan picked another apple. The basket was close to full.

“I would choose knowledge. I have told you what I would do as a human, I would pursue knowledge above all. I wouldn’t be able to stop my pursuit. I would never be satisfied.”

Remus snapped his fingers, and the apple rain stopped as suddenly as it started.

“Wisdom cries out in the street; in the squares she raises her voice. Proverbs 1, verse 20.  You’d never be able to stop learning once you started. Which I think is pretty cool!” Remus looked him dead in the eye, lowering his basket from his head. “You’re a passionate guy, Lo. Show it. I liked hearing you talk about saffron. And if they won’t listen? Then—“

“Then make them listen. Yes. You said it before.” Logan sighed. “I must admit, I don’t think I would be able to. Once they see me as a joke, it’s over. I’m only listened to when I’m being used to counter something that inhibits Virgil and Patton. For example, when you and Janus first appeared. I… I think we have enough apples.”

Remus took his basket, full of apples, and shoved it into the bag. Logan gave him his basket, and watched Remus make it disappear.

“If they won’t listen to you just because they see you act improperly, because they see you smile and feel happy, then they’re a bunch of hypocrites that I want to punt into the fucking sun.”

Logan took a deep breath in. A tiny little voice inside of him screamed to lash out, punch a tree in anger and frustration and pain, but that would be illogical. The apples had been picked. That was all. Now saffron, or honey, or whatever Remus would drag him to next. Then he’d be back in his room, asleep in his chair, then in the morning—

“I honestly don’t know why you care so much,” Remus said.

Logan exhaled.

“They’re all I have.”

Remus set a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, you’re have me now, too. Let’s go get the saffron!”

The earth suddenly fell out from under his feet. Logan couldn’t help the surprised yelp that escaped his mouth, hand flying out to grab Remus’ arm. Then as quickly as it disappeared, the earth came back, and his feet hit the ground. He yanked his hand away from Remus, brushing invisible dust off of the front of his shirt. 

They had appeared in a desert. The sun beat down bright and strong, no clouds in the sky to inhibit it. His feet sank into the sand. A harsh wind kicked up the sand, and it flew around in a flurry like a blizzard. Logan gazed at the horizon. Nothing for miles and miles, just sand, low and level.

“Is this where you find saffron?” Logan asked. Remus crossed his arms.

“You should know better than anyone that flowers can’t grow in a desert! And besides, I just found out saffron came from flowers. So I have to grow them!”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Why bring us to a desert then?”

Remus smiled.

“Oh, you’ll see.”

Remus turned away from him. He raised his hands out, like he was conducting a band. He slowly breathed in. Logan felt the sand under his feet shift, pull together, and shake. Logan’s eyes went wide.

“What’re you—“

Remus turned back to Logan, eyes filled with fire.

“What is the best condition for crocuses, Logan?”

Logan swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

“Saffron crocuses bloom in early to mid fall, and prefer sandy loam and lots of sunshine. They prefer soil with good drainage, as well as a pH range of 6.0 to 7.0. Crocus grow best in hardiness zones 5 through 8, not too hot, but not too cold either.”

A cool, fall breeze ruffled Remus’ hair and the fishnet shirt he wore. Logan raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t tell the temperature, but it certainly had gotten cooler.

“What is sandy loam?” Remus asked, knocking Logan’s train of thought off the tracks.

Logan paused for a moment. Remus really wanted to know. But why? The imagination didn’t follow the laws of physics or nature, why would he want to know? He said he liked hearing him talk. But did he?

“Sandy loam is soil that, while containing silt and clay, has primarily sand in it. It is a good soil for gardening because of its draining abilities… Does it matter?”

Remus tilted his head.

“Well, if you were to be making a big ol’ crocus field, you’d care about the soil! Everything about it! So since it matters to you…”

Remus smiled brightly, and grabbed Logan’s arm, tugging him. Logan let himself be pulled, finding himself right in front of Remus, stumbling as the ground shifted under his feet. Bright sand melded together and changed, turning into dark, rich earth. Logan knelt, scooping a little bit into his hand. Sandy loam. 

The soil in his hand moved, like a miniature earthquake. A small, green sprout rose from the dirt, reaching towards the sun. Delicate green leaves grew, and so did a small, purple bud. It opened. Vibrant amethyst petals showed themselves to him, but so did three red stigma. Saffron.

“My god,” Logan said, “that was amazing!”

Remus snorted out a laugh.

“What, you've never seen Roman do something like that?”

Logan shook his head. Roman preferred to run his side of the imagination like an actual human kingdom, planting saplings and waiting patiently for them to grow. Sometimes, he’d see Roman in the wheat fields, harvesting wheat with a large iron scythe, just how a human would do. He let everything take its time, and grow at its own pace. 

“Really?” Remus crowed. “Well then— watch this!”

Remus cackled, and snapped his fingers.

The ground shifted under Logan’s knees, and hundreds of little green sprouts poked out from the dark earth, basking in the gentle sunlight. Glorious purple buds opened to reveal perfect crocuses, each with three sprigs of saffron inside. Logan gazed out to the horizon. The desert had turned to a field of purple, as grand and never ending as a sunset.

Logan’s jaw dropped open in shock. For miles and miles, nothing but crocus…

“Amazing,” Logan whispered, “absolutely amazing.”

With a thud, Remus sat down next to him. He leaned forward, and tore one of the crocuses from the ground, holding it up to Logan. Then, the petals shuddered, as if blown by an invisible wind, merging and shifting until they had formed a purple frog.

“Look,” Remus exclaimed, “it’s a croak-us!”

Logan couldn’t help but snort with laughter, covering his mouth quickly. His eyes went wide. Remus didn’t seem to have any intention of poking fun at him for laughing, but it was better safe than sorry. Though he couldn’t help but think of Remus, sat at the kitchen table in nothing but an apron, saying that he’d beaten him fair and square, and could do so again. Logan lowered his hand from his mouth, chuckling quietly. It was a pretty funny pun.

"Yes," Logan opened his mouth, closed it, then exhaled. "'It's quite ribbit-ing." 

Logan looked up, meeting Remus’ eyes. There was no judgement, no smugness. Remus looked absolutely fucking delighted, a manic glint in his eyes.

"You've toad the line!” Remus cackled. Logan laughed quietly, staring right at the little frog in the flower, trying to think of another frog pun. His brows furrowed in thought. 

"Did you know that in South America, there's a species of big frog with enough poison to kill two thousand men?” Remus said, interrupting Logan’s train of a thought. 

"I don't believe that's true. The golden dart frog grows only up to five millimeters, as opposed to the goliath frog, which can grow up to three-hundred and twenty, and weigh just over four pounds."

“Damn, you know a lot about frogs,” Remus said, “it’s pretty cool!”

“I researched them extensively after Patton turned into one, just in case another problem arose.” 

They stared at each other, much too long to be considered normal. Remus's lips twitched. The silence grated on Logan’s nerves. Had he said something wrong? 

“Would you like to play a word association game?” Logan nervously asked.

"Part two: Electric Boogaloo!" Remus exclaimed, startling the croak-us enough to hop into the fields of its former kin.

He brought his hand down onto Logan's in a low five, purple petals smeared onto his palm. Remus was still grinning, parts of his moustache standing on end, like he'd been shocked. Electric Boogaloo. Remus sat, cross-legged in the new soil so they were face to face. Logan brushed against him, and felt the burn of a spark go out on his leg. Electric Boogaloo, again.

"Vampire,” Remus said.

Logan’s mind jumped to when Virgil had dressed as a vampire for halloween.

"Halloween."

“Black?”

"Orange."

"Bok choy!” Remus chirped.

Logan paused. What led to that connection? Remus shrugged.

"Plant,” Logan said, brushing off his previous confusion.

"Maple.”

"Canada.”

"Pancakes."

"Syrup."

"HONEY!"

Remus snapped, loud as a cracking whip. Logan watched him shake a freshly printed page he clutched in his hand, peering at it intensely. 

“It says on our list that we need honey!”

Logan looked back out at the field of crocuses. Every single one of them had three sprigs of saffron inside, red and beautiful. He could smell it, the aroma beautiful and heavy. 

“We have to harvest the saffron first, for the paella. How much will we need for the recipe, Remus?”

Remus sighed.

“Harvesting saffron ourselves sounds like a big waste of time. Don’t you think?”

Logan brushed his fingers on the warm, rich soil. He imagined Remus and him in the field of saffron, carefully plucking saffron from the flowers, putting the delicate threads in jars to be dried later. Then he could ask all the questions in the world about the soil, the saffron. He could spend hours talking to Remus about everything he wanted to. He wanted to say so much. And yet his mouth wouldn’t obey him. Remus wouldn’t tell him to shut up, so what was stopping him? Nothing was stopping him.

“Yes,” Logan said, “it would take up a good deal of time. But honey won’t take that long, will it?”

“I don’t even need honey,” Remus admitted, “I just wanted an excuse to spend time with you without any of the others popping in or having to wait until like five am. You’re the functional one, you gotta get some sleep.”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up. Oh. Remus’ words slowly went through his head. His heart did a backflip— even though that certainly was anatomically impossible— and his lungs stopped taking in air.

“Yeah,” Logan said, voice quiet, “I do. I mean— uh. Spending time with you is much better than laying unconscious for eight hours.”

“As if you get eight hours of sleep,” Remus said, a bright smile plastered on his face.

“So. We don’t need honey?”

“We still need mussels.”

“Mussels, yeah,” Logan said, breathless, standing up, “lead the way.”

“What about the saffron?” Remus said, raising an eyebrow. He stood.

“...Well. We can always come back for that some other time.”

Remus nodded, a bright smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah, some other time. Well then. Off we go!”

Remus grabbed Logan’s arm, and the world fell away from them. Logan closed his eyes. 

Waves crashed gently. He could hear them, and feel a cold sea breeze blow on his skin, ruffling his hair. He slowly opened his eyes. Apparently, night had fallen while his eyes were shut, and moonlight bathed everything in a pearly pale light. The air smelled like salt. Both of his feet were solidly on a wooden dock. Remus’ hand still felt warm on his arm.

“How long did that take?” Logan asked. The sun had still been up when they left.

“It’s always night here,” Remus explained, shifting his weight from foot to foot, “I like it better that way. Look at the beach and you’ll see why.”

Logan turned his head. The moon shone gently on the black sand beach, but more impressive were the waves— each foaming, rushing wave carried with it an ethereal teal glow, like all the stars in the sky were gently ebbing with every wave. Logan stared at the water, eyes wide. 

“The waves glow like that because of an algal bloom, right? And when the water moves it causes the algae to glow. It is absolutely wonderful, Remus.”

Remus smiled, running his hand through his hair, almost as if he was shy.

“Thanks, this place is one of the first places I’ve ever made, and the first one I felt satisfied with. The rest of this place I like to keep constantly changing, but not here.”

Remus walked to the end of the dock. He calmly set his bag down, then yanked off his fishnet top, holding it in his hand. Logan watched his hands undo the button of his shorts, then watched Remus toss his shorts onto the dock, revealing the bright green speedo he wore, leaving nothing up to the imagination. Remus raised his arms out like Christ on the cross, looking up at the full moon. Then he tilted backwards, gracefully falling off the dock, and landing in the water with a loud splash.

Logan slowly walked to the end of the dock. He knelt, knees pressed against wet wood. Even through the glowing waves and the dark water he could see Remus’ back, his legs, pale skin disappearing quickly underwater. 

Logan’s hands clasped the indigo fabric of his tie. Then they drifted down. He sat down, cross legged, staring down at the water. Slowly, he took one shoe off, setting it carefully behind him. Then the other. He pulled off his socks and placed them in his shoes. Then his pants, leaving him in boxers, his shirt, and his tie. He took off his glasses.

His hands clasped his tie again. He gazed at the water, dark as the night around him except for the beautiful waves and the occasional glimpse of Remus’ skin. Then he raised his head, staring out into the distance. He could see for miles. Empty, dark ocean, with no land in sight. Slowly, he loosened the knot. His hands shook. 

Remus wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t care if he took off his tie. He wouldn’t see him as less. He would see him as Logic, as Logan. Nothing less. 

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of cold, salty air. pulled off his tie, setting it with the rest of his clothing. Before he could lose his nerve he yanked his shirt off, threw it haphazardly in the pile of clothing, and ran to the end of the dock. He jumped. Time seemed to slow as he rushed through the air, flying to the water—

He landed with a loud, graceless splash. The water around him lit up like fireworks. Surprisingly, the water felt warm compared to the bite of the wind. Logan couldn’t tell where Remus was, he just knew he was underwater with him now. Logan kicked and paddled until he reached the surface, gasping for breath. A sharp laugh escaped him. His heart pounded in his chest— he could feel it beating, even though he knew he didn’t need one to function. The waves rushed over him, bright as all the stars. 

Logan treaded water in place, then let himself tilt back, until he floated on his back. Waves gently rocked him, and he let them. What had he been so scared of? He laughed again, much quieter, listening to the waves rush to shore. 

Next to him, he heard Remus surface, taking a deep breath.

“You good?” Remus asked. Logan turned his head a little, looking at Remus. His hair was soaked, plastered to his forehead.

“Perfectly fine,” Logan responded, “and you?”

Remus didn’t answer, just smiled and sunk into the water. The wind blew cold over his skin, sending a shudder up his spine. Remus had to be swimming under him, collecting the mussels he’d use for the paella. Logan couldn’t help but wait for the time they’d be able to spend in the kitchen, knees bumping, or the time they’d spend collecting saffron, the sun shining on violet flowers in a golden gleam. 

Logan breathed out slowly. There was something with Remus that made all his thoughts become portraits. Cohesive, yes, but coated in a loveliness that never used to be there. It might have to do with the imagination. It might not. 

The waves beneath him swelled, then gently ebbed out. Remus surfaced again, treading water as easily as breathing. He’d changed his fishnet top into a net, which was full of mussels and what looked like clams, maybe? Logan couldn’t tell. 

Remus gingerly grabbed Logan’s arm. The waves under them swelled. 

“Let’s go back up onto the dock,” Remus whispered.

Logan nodded. Within the blink of the eye, they both appeared on the dock, both of them soaking wet. Remus shook his head like a dog, water flying everywhere. Logan raised his hand to keep the water from hitting him, even though he was already absolutely soaked. Remus set the bag of shellfish on the dock with a clatter. 

He calmly took one out of the net, and Logan realized they were oysters, not clams. Remus grabbed his bag, unzipping one of the pockets and pulling out a knife. He held the oyster carefully, curved side flat against his palm, and wiggled his knife into the hinge between the shells. Remus’ hands were surprisingly steady, even as the knife slipped between the shells and the oyster popped open. He scraped the knife against the inside of the shell, freeing up the meat, then knocked the oyster back like a shot.

Silently, he offered Logan the knife. Their fingers brushed as Logan took the hilt of the knife, grabbing an oyster from the net. He mimicked Remus’ movements, trying to slip the knife between the two shells. Remus chuckled, and grabbed the hand that held the knife. 

“You have to press harder,” he said, “you can’t finesse your way into the shell, you have to put some oomf behind it. If you don’t, it’ll never ever open up.”

Logan swallowed. He felt oddly lightheaded as Remus guided the knife between the shells of the oyster, helping him push the knife into the space between the shell, easing the hinges apart with the flat of the blade. The shell slipped into the cup of his fingers, just so, supported by the weight of Remus's hands over his, thumb pushing against his, twisting the hinge open with a pop.

"See?" Remus was grinning, that ever-present expression of glee, and Logan tore his eyes from it to the movement of hands again, guiding the knife under the oyster to lift the flat shell off. 

"These would be good for the garden," Logan blurted out. Remus looked up, just as attentive as he'd always been, and the words caught in his throat for a second. "For- for the soil, oyster shells, when ground into powder, have been shown to improve soil pH and nutrient status, strengthening cell walls due to an increase in calcium, overall resulting in healthier produce.”

Remus tilted his head. Logan’s face flushed.

“...I know you employ an extraordinary method of growing and cultivating, and therefore have no need for this knowledge, but tossing them aside or simply letting them disappear seemed.. unnecessary."

"I think you need to stop worrying about what I need to know, and start asking what else I'd want to hear,” Remus said with a grin, “But it is flattering that you think it's extraordinary. Now why don’t you try the oyster?”

Logan stared at the meat of the oyster.

“I just… drink it?”

“Like a shot, yeah.”

Logan slowly brought the oyster to his mouth. Slowly, he tilted his head back, opening his mouth.

The taste made his eyes go wide. The meat of the oyster was plump against his tongue, but it tasted like coppery brine. He swallowed it without chewing, since he hadn’t noticed Remus’ jaw moving. The coppery taste lingered on his tongue. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of fresh, ocean air.

“Why don’t you stay here?” Remus suddenly asked. Logan’s eyes shot wide open. He had another oyster in his hands, wriggling his knife between the shells.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Remus looked down at the oyster, face surprisingly blank and unreadable.

“You spend all day in your room except for when you come out and cook with me. I have a feeling that I almost wasn’t able to get you out of your room today. So why don’t you just stay here? I can make you a castle or a cottage for you to study in, and you won’t have to worry about the others bothering you. And you’ll be able to come here whenever you want. So what do you say. Will you stay?”

Logan stared down at his hands. He could. He could say yes, and watch Remus make him a place to stay, a place that was truly his. No worries of anyone walking in and seeing him disheveled, just himself and Remus.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t say yes. I’m needed with the rest of the sides, and Virgil may see my leaving as betrayal, or a sign of untrustworthiness. I need to keep them on my side. I need them to trust me, to listen to me.”

Remus still was fixated on the oyster. The knife slipped between the two shells, and it popped open. Remus’ brows rose.

“I still think you’d enjoy it here more than you would crammed in your little room all the time. And I don’t know how to tell you in a way that’ll make you listen, but they need you more than you think they do. You are all of Thomas’ cleverness and wit. Where would he be without you? Creativity is nothing without knowledge— whether its working with or against knowledge.”

Logan shook his head. Remus slowly reached for Logan’s hand. Logan let him take it, pull his fingers open, and press something into his palm. It felt like a pebble. Logan felt his hands ball into fists.

“Roman seems to mostly work against me, but at least Thomas heeds his words. I really can’t stay here. I…. I should honestly go. It’s late.”

Logan awkwardly stood, fists still clenched. Remus looked up at him with wide eyes, brows furrowed.

“Are you sure?”

Logan opened his mouth, but no words came out. A part of him still wanted to stay, to sit with Remus at the dock and watch the glowing waves, to eat oysters with him. He closed his mouth and nodded. Remus sighed.

“Alright. I’ll teleport you and your clothes back to your room. Just… you’re welcome back whenever you want. Don’t be a stranger, Logan.”

Logan smiled. He wanted to say something, but the next thing he knew the world vanished around him. Then it reappeared, and he saw the door to his room. There was a bowl of spaghetti in front of it. It had long grown cold, but Logan picked it up anyways, and stepped into his room.

He set the bowl of spaghetti on his desk, and haphazardly tossed his clothes on the floor. He felt soaked to the bone, and started to shiver a little, even though he knew he couldn’t feel cold, couldn’t feel pain, couldn’t feel the cocktail of conflicting emotions inside of him. With a sigh, he sat in his office chair. His hands, still curled into fists, shook slightly. What had Remus given him? Slowly, he relaxed his fingers. 

Resting in his palm was a round, black pearl. 

Logan stared at the black pearl in his palm. A million different thoughts rushed through his head, most of them strange and illogical. He could go back to the pier and watch the luminescent waves, or help Remus grind the oyster shells down into fertilizer. And they would eat oysters together until they had enough pearls to make a necklace, a necklace he’d wear wherever he went.

Then what? 

Then Logan would wear the necklace, and someone would ask where he got it from.

This was for the best for Thomas’ stability. It had to be.

Logan let his head flop against the headrest of his office chair, and shut his eyes, hoping sleep would take him.

He never let go of the pearl.

[msjr0119]

One Temptation

Part 10

*This series is based on The Royal Romance characters who belong to Pixelberry - AU Plot switch*

Riley Brooks moves back to New York after leaving five years prior- struggling to get by in life she wanted to go home. After getting mugged, a woman and man come to her rescue and offer her a job at their strip club. A rich business man Liam Rhys is forced to visit the club as part of his bachelor party. What will happen that night?

Tags-if you want to be removed from the list, let me know 😊: @pedudley @kacie-0156 @loveellamae @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @drxkewalker @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @kozabaji @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @whenyourheartskipsabeat @jovialyouthmusic @nz1091 @yukinagato2012 @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @cordonianroyalty @dcbbw @qammh-blog @jared2612 @princess-geek @desireepow-1986 @indiacater

A/N: This part is smaller than most, the next part will be posted once I’ve finished work or tomorrow.

Warnings: Swearing, abuse.

*****

I miss you. X

Hey, are you okay? I haven’t heard from you in a few days. X

Ri, I love you. Please text back. I just want to know that you are okay. X

Can I come and see you? X

Riley sighed as she re read all the messages that she had received from, messages that she hadn’t responded to as if they didn’t exist. It had been a few weeks since she had seen him in the hotel room. Waking up the following morning, she snuck out of the room. Regretting letting her feelings get the best of her- she knew it was best to just leave without saying a word. Maybe in time, they could gradually speak- when she was sober.

“I’m going to have to get you a bucket, are you coming down with something?” Gill asked as she walked over to Riley, noticing that she was pale, as she sipped the water behind the bar and was immediately sick.

“I don’t know? It must be that seafood that we ate last night. I’ve had an upset stomach since this morning...”

“Just stay behind the bar tonight, I’ll get you a bucket in case you can’t make it to the toilet. If you need time off, just go home.”

Staying behind the bar, she was hoping that this shift would go quickly. The usual punters attempted flirting with as they always did- as much as she tried, she tried to flirt back. But the smell of alcohol was making her feel instantly ill. Bending down, she discreetly puked up in the bucket on the floor.

“Hello, can I have a scotch please.”

“I’ll be one minute...” Wiping her mouth, she placed some gum in her mouth as she slowly stood up.

“Bertrand?”

“Hello, stranger.” Wiping his finger along the bar, he looked disgusted viewing all the dust and the sticky residue stuck on his finger like super glue. He was shocked to see her behind the bar, when she first arrived back in New York City- he was horrified when Maxwell blurted out that she was a stripper.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s a free country.. I’m just checking that you are okay. You don’t look okay- you look as white as a sheet. You haven’t spoken to anyone - we were all concerned about you.”

“I’m fine, shouldn’t you be with Savannah? Congratulations by the way, how is the little bundle of joy?” Providing him with the drink, she explained that it was on the house to congratulate him on becoming a father- as well as ‘wetting the baby’s head’. She knew that this day was coming, but it still hurt knowing the day that their baby arrived could have been the day that she was holding her own bundle of joy.

“He’s amazing. We are having a get together tomorrow night, you should come and meet Bartie.”

“I might do, it depends if I can get time off work or not.” He’s going to be there. Covering her mouth, that all familiar taste made its way back in to her mouth.

“Are you pregnant?”

“No, don’t be fucking stupid...” fuck. I could be. Horror was soon written all over her face, of course Bertrand would assume this- Savannah was pregnant and had morning sickness, so he was now an expert knowing the symptoms.

“I ate seafood last night, I don’t think it’s agreed with my stomach...”

“Or maybe that little rendezvous you had in Times Square has had some consequences...” Perking his eyebrows up, he knew she was in denial- if she was indeed pregnant, he knew that she wouldn’t be alone- she would have support from everyone.

“How do you know about that?” Shaking his head, everyone knew. Due to the man explaining what had happened and him being concerned as she ran off and had ignored him ever since.

“He’s worried about you, he asked if anyone had spoken to you. What is it with you and hotel rooms?” He laughed attempting to make the situation a joke rather than it being a serious matter.

“You know me B. Whenever Liam had conferences with his father, I’d stay in the hotel room with him. Leo, in Florida- when he found me. Maxwell when we all got drunk in Vegas. And Drake, the hotel before we arrived at the ranch the following day..”

“Well we are meeting tomorrow at the Hilton, midtown. Who’s next on your hotel fuck list? You could use tomorrow as an opportunity.” See her frown at him, he laughed. “I’m joking! Thank you for the drink, Ri. I hope you can attend.”

*****

The sickness had deteriorated the day after, feeling relieved she was sure it was due to the food. Getting ready to go to hotel, she was a bag of nerves. Deep down she didn’t want to go- however as Bertrand said they were practically family years ago.

Arriving at the Hilton, she was greeting by a waiter who gave her a champagne flute. Gulping it in one, it would give her dutch courage that she most likely would need to survive the whole event. Scrutinising the room, she saw everyone- as well as Drake’s family. Fuck, I forgot about them. Just breathe, Riley. Bertrand noticed her stood vacant at the threshold. Carrying Bartie over towards her, she placed a fake smile onto her face.

“Bartie, this is Auntie Riley...” Riley placed her finger into the newborns open hand- his tiny fingers wrapped around her immediately with a tight grip.

“Hey, gorgeous... aw Bertrand he’s adorable.”

“Do you want to hold him?” Riley nodded, holding the newborn- she was in love immediately. Bartie began to panic, possibly sensing that his mother and father wasn’t present and that he was in a strangers arms. Natural instinct made her coo at Bartie, before singing him a lullaby. Whilst singing- she placed the baby's head in the crook of one arm and wrapped the other arm around him- she was scared of dropping or breaking him.

“You’re a natural...are you still up for those babysitting duties?” He said with an encouraging tone of voice. Looking up at him, she smiled softly.

“Of course I’ll babysit him. No B, I’m not a natural- I’m a woman. He probably just thinks that my breasts are Savannah’s. Although if you carry on drinking beer, you could grow some man boobs...”

“I’d usually be offended with your sarcasm, but it’s good to see you smile.”

“He’s so gorgeous isn’t he? Hello, Riley.” Shifting her gaze from Bartie, she looked up at the woman. The woman who could win so many oscars with her fake attitude.

“Hello, Mrs Walker. Erm - Bertrand, I think he’s hungry- he’s getting far too close to my breasts..” Bertrand bend down to collect his son, he knew that this was probably just an excuse to remove herself from Bianca’s presence.

“Can you stop following me please...”

“I just want to say sorry for everything I did to you in Texas. Bertrand has explained about your true personality and you sound like a really nice person. I feel awful for the way we treat you...”

“I loved your son, I just wanted to make a good impression. At the time, I’d actually given up work. Who told you that I was a prostitute? That question has been lingering in my mind this whole time...”

“Liam Rhys...” Of course, it was him. That slimy bastard. “Did he give you that money?”

“No, it was from Kiara’s father.” Sighing, she really didn’t want that name to be mentioned, it was just a reminder of more heartache that she had received.

“Thank you. See you around.”

“Riley, wait!” Rolling her eyes back, she couldn’t be bothered with anymore of Bianca’s games. Not quite believing her new sincere attitude, she wanted to keep a distance- a long distance away from the woman.

“I’m so sorry about the baby...” holding her tears back, she began to struggle concealing the emotions. “You are a natural as Bertrand said, I do apologise again.”

“I’d have had our baby by now, imagine if I did. You hated me before you even got to know me. What would you have been like with your grandchild? Ignored it because you had a vendetta against its mother? Please, don’t try and talk to me again Mrs Walker...”

****

Seeing him smirking and laughing with people, the tears that she held back were now non existent. Instead anger built up throughout her body. Just the sight of him made her feel physically sick, him acting as if he had done nothing wrong. Storming through the crowd towards him, his eyes widened seeing her face like thunder.

“Liam! A word now!”

“Riley, it’s nice to see you...” swinging her fist back- this had become her new hobby especially with Liam. The scotch that he was holding was soon all over the floor- as the glass shattered the room went mute.

“How could you do that to me?” The tears that she had held in soon resurfaced and fell down her face, as her chin began to tremble she was unable to prevent all of the emotions bursting out.

“Do what?” Coming closer towards her, he wiped the wetness that was smudging her make up- not that she cared in the slightest.

“I dropped the charges, you avoided punishments because of my stupid goddamn heart. I went for lunch with you. I thought we had closure. Then I find out that you was the reason behind the Walkers hating me!”

“You went for lunch with him?” Leo walked over with Maxwell and Drake, concerned overhearing the shouting. “What have you done now?”

“He told Drake’s family that I was a fucking goddamn prostitute..”

“Ri, that was before I saw you in Starbucks and we went for lunch. I felt awful for doing that, but he is engaged anyway... we put all that behind us. We had closure...” Smirking at Drake, Riley was too emotional to realise this- Liam knew it would get under his skin that he went for lunch with her. Hoping that this little ‘confession’ would fill Drake with jealousy and rage.

“I am not fucking engaged!”

“Does it fucking matter who’s engaged or not? Does it matter what I fucking do for a living? Why can’t you all just let me live my life? I was thinking about your daughter in all of this Liam, and all you do is fucking screw me over.. continue to fucking break my heart...”

“I’m sorry. I am grateful for you thinking about Alice. Have you made a decision about the offer that I offered you all those weeks ago in Times Square?”

“Go to hell, Liam.”

*****

Maxwell followed Riley, out of all the friends he believed that he was the closest to her- the one who’s daft antics would make her smile instantly.

“Are you okay?” Knowing this was an idiotic question to ask, he didn’t know why he asked her- grabbing the ice out of his cocktail, he rubbed it against swollen hand.

“Yeah.. my hands killing though...”

“You really should quit the bar work and become a professional boxer.” Max pretended to throw some punches towards her.

“Me the professional boxer and you the professional dancer. You totally showed off in front of all those dancers in Times Square.” Doing a re-enactment Of his dance moves from that night, she threw her back laughing.

“Of course I would, they were all amateurs... when Maxwell Beaumont is around no one has a chance... so what do you think about Bartie? Is he a Beaumont or a Walker?”

“Definitely a Walker looks wise, but that can change. Hopefully he takes after his uncle’s rather than his serious father.” Impersonating Bertrand, Maxwell nearly fell over laughing. Pulling her into a hug, he held her tightly- he had missed her.

“What are you laughing about?” Leo asked, as he is put his arms around Riley’s waist and kissed her on the cheek.

“Ask Riley to show you her impression of Bertrand... I’m going to steal a cuddle from my nephew- I need to win the best uncle award.”

“How are you? I’ve missed you.”

“I’m fine, I’ve missed you too. How are you?”

“I’m good. It’s good to see you. Even when you are acting like the hulk...”

“He deserves it... what is he even doing here?”

“He paid for the venue, as usual. But I had my little input...”

“The flower arrangements?”

“How did you guess?”

“Well when you bought me flowers, they were beautiful.”

“I should become a florist? A beautiful bouquet for a beautiful girl. You deserve it. Love ya Ri.”

“Charmer... love ya too.”

****

Leo had left her alone, walking towards the bar, she ordered a drink- staring vacantly into it, she wasn’t sure why she was even here still. Drowning her sorrows, she felt like she was back at the Crowne plaza- the drinks were disappearing far too quickly.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry about what Liam did, as well as my family...”

“Don’t be. Congratulations on becoming a uncle.” Ordering him a drink, their hands touched as they both went to pay the bar man- the warmth of the touch lingered around their bodies. Quickly creating a distance again, Drake was desperate to pull her into his arms- but decided against it, especially with the mood she was in.

“Thanks. He’s amazing. I can’t wait to teach him a few things. I saw you holding him before, you’re a natural.” That could have been us, you holding our baby.

“I’ve already been told.” That could have been us. You talking about teaching our son or daughter about things.

“Don’t be drinking me under the table again, you know how one drink turns into two then into three before you know it. You don’t want a stinking hangover.”

“You know I can handle my hangovers. You don’t need to worry about my head.”

“I worry about you. I care about you. I love you.” Opening her mouth, she wanted to talk to Drake- civilly, but didn’t know where to start.

“Come on you two, B and Savannah are about to make an announcement...” Maxwell dragged the two of them towards the mini stage. Riley could feel Drakes eyes on her more than the star of the show, his own nephew.

“Riley, before the speech begins I want a private word with you. Savannah will talk and talk - so quick, follow me.” Following Bertrand, He led her to the bathroom- shutting the door, she was confused by his actions- until realisation sunk in as he pulled the object out of his pocket.

“Here, I think you should take this.”

“I’m not pregnant B. It was the seafood.”

“You looked like shit last night. Please.” Taking the test, she knew it would shut him up. Not knowing why he was insisting that she took a test. Peeing on the stick, she hid it in her bag wrapped around some tissue. Re-entering the room, Savannah gestured for Bertrand to join her on stage.

“Sorry for arriving late, I apologise if I repeat anything that has already been said. I’d like to thank you all for coming here today, our friends and family- we appreciate all the support....” the alarm went off on Riley’s phone, panicking that she was disturbing the speech- her hand was shaking as she tried to cancel it. Bertrand looked at her, knowing what the alarm was. Riley swiftly removed herself from the crowd, turning her back- she looked at the result. Covering her mouth, she wished that she had kept her legs closed- turning around she couldn’t look at the father instead she just nodded towards Bertrand hoping that he would understand the gesture. Clearing his throat, he quickly finished off his disastrous speech, knowing that she needed his support especially due to him forcing it upon her.

“Anyway, thank you for all the gifts. Thank you. Thanks...” Running off stage he followed Riley who was lingering at the door- still in shock. Still not knowing how to handle the situation.

“Was I correct?”

“I need to go. I didn’t get Bartie a present I wasn’t sure what he needed. Here, just take this money and get whatever you need. Thank you for inviting me.”

Bertrand, I need your assistance. Savannah shouted attempting to gain his attention- realising that he wasn’t aware that everyone was overhearing his conversation with Riley through the microphone.

I’ll only be a second Savannah, darling.

“Riley!”

“What?”

“Tell me... I am always here for you... you are like my little sister.” Passing him the test, she didn’t care if he was touching something that had her urine smeared all over it.

“I’m pregnant. Happy?” Savannah’s eyes widened, as everyone else’s did as they all turned to face the people who were oblivious that their conversation wasn’t private and was in fact public.

“Darling... you left the microphone on. We heard everything...”

“Bertrand! You fucking dipshit....” still in shock with the result - possibly denial, she just wanted leave. This whole event had been a disaster from her point of view. As the father walked over to her, along with the others- she looked at each of the men. Fuck. This is not happening. He will want to keep the baby. Can I trust him?

“Is the baby mine? Is Alice having a sibling?”

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch36: I Bid You Farewell And Good Luck, Morons!

Intro: Thor wakes up on a strange ship, surrounded by even stranger people, a talking tree and a rabbit. Meanwhile, back on Earth, the fight to save Vision is won and the group make their way back to the compound to understand what exactly it is that they’re facing. 

But there’s no sign of Tony, and the more they heard, the more they start to wonder if this is a battle they stand any chance of winning. 

Warnings:Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist 

This is a bit of a longer update than normal, but I wanted to explore IW using all 3 of the perspectives that were shown, for no reason other than I had favourite bits in them all! And I LOVE writing for Thor and Tony!

As always tags are open and I’m taking suggestions for that lovely 5 year gap post snap/pre time Heist so if you have any ideas or wants, hit me up!

 “It’s like a pirate had a baby with an angel…”

Thor wasn’t dead. But he felt like it. Every inch of his body ached and when he was jerked back to consciousness for a moment, just one split moment, he thought he saw Little Stark. Only it wasn’t her. The woman had dark hair, yes, but as he focussed he realised she looked nothing like the woman he loved dearly as a sister. This woman had huge eyes and antenna dangling from her forehead. And, whilst he knew it had been a while since he had seen his friend, she wouldn't have changed that much.

Finding his feet he looked around, chest heaving, at the band of people stood in front of him; A woman with green skin and red hair, a man with grey/blue skin, bald head, and red lines all over his body, a tree creature- a Flora Colossus he thought- which was off to the side draped over a chair, some kind of furry, animal thing- a rabbit maybe- and finally a man who appeared to be a normal, human.

They had offered him soup, and then when he had explained about Thanos the green skinned lady had told Thor what the Titan wanted the stones for. Which she knew, because she his  daughter.

"Families can be tough," Thor said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Before my father died, he told me that I had a half-sister, that he imprisoned in Hell. Then she returned home, stabbed me in the eye so, I had to kill her." he said, shrugging "That's life though isn't it I guess? Round and round, but I feel your pain."

The human, Peter Quill pushed his way between Gamora and Thor, and looked at her "I feel your pain, as well, because, I mean it's not a competition, but I've been through a lot. My father killed my mother, and then I had to kill my father. And that was hard. Probably even harder than having to kill a sister. Plus, I, came out with both of my eyes."

Thor wasn’t paying attention. The man was clearly a moron, and he’d just noticed he had bent the spoon in the bowl of soup and was having a flashback to the time he had tried to bend the Captain’s shield. Little Stark had laughed so much at how annoyed he had gotten when he failed that she had cried. And then, to make it worse, a few days later the Captain had managed to move Mjolnir. Just a fraction, but it moved. No one had seen it, bar Little Stark of course, but there was something there, Thor was sure. Steve Rogers was a man worthy of a lot of things, but his hammer was complicated. You have to prove it. That had been explained to him the day it had been given to him. Of course, he hadn’t realised then that Eitri had actually made it for Hela first.

Eitri…

"I need a hammer, not a spoon." Thor mumbled, as the idea took hold and he looked at the pod at the back of the ship. "How do I open this thing?" he began pressing random buttons on the screen next to the door. “Is there some sort of a four-digit code? Maybe a birth date or something?"

"What are you doing?" Rocket asked.

"Taking your pod." Thor replied nonchalantly.

And then there was a row in which the moron called Quill tried to imitate Thor’s deeper voice telling him he could not take the pod, but Thor was going to take the pod anyway because he was the God of Thunder after all, and then the lady Gamora cut them off quite rightly directing the focus back to Thanos by stating they needed to find out where he was going next. But Thor had already thought of that.

"Knowhere," he answered as he brushed past Quill and over to the refrigerator he had seen Gamora get his soup from.

"He must be going somewhere," Mantis argued innocently.

"No," Quill shook his head and Thor noted his stupid voice was back to normal, "Knowhere? It's a place. We've been there. It sucks. Excuse me, that's our food." he said, suddenly noticing what Thor was doing.

"Not anymore," Thor shrugged, stuffing it into a backpack he found.

"Thor," Gamora cut across the pair of them again "Why would he go to Knowhere?"

"Because for years, the Reality Stone has been safely stored there with a man called the Collector." Thor said

"If it's with the Collector, then it's not safe.” Quill snorted. “Only an idiot would give that man a stone."

"Or a genius." Thor shrugged.

"How do you know he's not going for one of the other stones?" Gamora asked.

"There's six stones out there." Thor began to explain, "Thanos already has the Power Stone because he stole it, last week, when he decimated Xandar.”

He didn’t missed the shocked and horrified look the group shared with one another.

“He stole the Space Stone from me, when he destroyed my ship and slaughtered half my people. The Time and Mind Stones, are safe on Earth. They're with the Avengers." Thor stated.

"The Avengers?" Quill asked.

"They're Earth's Mightiest Heroes."

"Like Kevin Bacon?" Mantis called out.

"Errr he may be on the team now, I don't know.” Thor shrugged, having no idea who the man named after a breakfast meat was. “I haven’t been there in a while. And as for the Soul Stone, well no one's ever seen that. No one even knows where it is. Therefore, Thanos can't get it. Therefore, he's going to Knowhere. Hence, he'll be getting the Reality Stone. You're welcome."

"Then we have to go to Knowhere, now." Gamora said

"Wrong. Where we have to go is Nidavellir." Thor said picking up the backpack.

"That's a made up word," Drax, the blue man countered.

"All words are made up." Thor smiled, slinging the backpack onto his back.

"Nidavellir is real?" the animal called Rocket’s eyes grew wide and he jumped up onto the table and looked at Thor "Seriously? I mean, that place is a legend. They make the most powerful, horrific weapons to ever torment the Universe. I would very much like to go there, please."

"The rabbit is correct." Thor grinned at Rocket's excitement, "And clearly the smartest among you. Only Eitri the Dwarf can make me the weapon I need. I assume you're the captain, Sir?"

Rocket grinned and nodded, "You're very perceptive."

"You seem like a noble leader. Will you join me on my quest to Nidavellir?"

"Let me just ask the captain. Oh, wait a second, it's me!”  Rocket grinned. “Yeah, I'll go."

"Wonderful." Thor beamed.

"Uh except that I'm the captain," Quill chipped in

"Quiet!" Thor said, now beyond bored of the moron.

"And that's my backpack," Quill continued pointing to the bag that Thor was stealing.

"Quill, sit down," Rocket said, tapping at the pad and keying in the digits to open the pod.

"Look, this is my ship. And I'm not going to - wait, what kind of weapon are we talking about here?" Quill looked round.

"The Thanos-killing kind." Thor smiled. Boy, was it going to be a big, fucking weapon...

"Don't you think that we should all have a weapon like that?" Quill frowned.

"You lack the strength to wield them. Your bodies would crumble as you minds collapsed into the madness." Thor said.

"Is it weird that I wanna do it even more now?" Rocket asked.

"Erm, a little bit weird. Yeah." Thor looked down at him, frowning.

“If we don't go to Knowhere and Thanos retrieves another stone, he'll be too powerful to stop." Gamora said, stepping forward.

"He already is." Thor shrugged.

"Look, I got it figured out," Rocket interrupted, looking at Gamora. "We got two ships, and a large assortment of morons.  Me and Groot will go with the Pirate Angel here, and the morons will go to Knowhere to try and stop Thanos. Cool? Cool."

"So cool." Thor said with a smile before he climbed into the pod.

"For the record…” Quill said leaning down to Rocket “ I know that you're only going with them because it's where Thanos isn't."

"You know, you really shouldn't talk that way to your captain, Quill.” Rocket said, walking backwards and gesturing outwards with his arms. “Come on, Groot. Put that game down. You'll rot your brain,"

As Rocket sat down Thor nodded out of the pod “I bid you farewell and good luck, morons. Bye."

******

It wasn’t hard for the team to track Wanda, her red power flashing bright against the dark sky over Edinburgh City Centre, and as the jet followed her movements, the four friends saw her spiralling through the sky with Vision and crashing through the train station, just as Sam put the jet on the ground.

Within seconds the Ex-Avengers were sprinting off the jet.  

“Katie, Nat, take the side!” Steve yelled, as he vaulted over the railings at the edge of the road running down onto the bottom half of the concrete which led to the station. “Sam, up high,and remember protect Vision at all costs!”

“Got em.” Sam spoke over the coms “Platform seven, near the café.” 

Steve vaulted over another set of barriers, the station now deserted thanks to the evacuation taking place by the local police. As he ran onto one of the walkways he was just in time to see two of the aliens crash through the station roof. Weighing up his options, he realised it was going to be quicker for him to run down the platform he was over and jump across the lines to help. He swung his legs over the railings and landed easily, looking up. Across from him he could see Natasha and Katie emerging to the right, as Wanda stood and moved protectively in front of Vision, building power in her hands. An express train whizzed past him and he stood still, waiting and it wasn’t long before the taller, blue looking woman spotted him, and she launched her spear over the platform. Steve easily snapped his left shoulder back whilst leaning over his body with his right, catching the staff in his hand.

“Heads up.” Sam muttered, and as Wanda and Vision turned to see Steve step out from the shadows, fury lining his face, Sam swooped in and kicked one of the aliens across the platform and through a closed café’s security gate, causing tables and chairs to go flying, before he spun and started to fire on the other alien.

Steve launched the weapon he had caught across the tracks where Natasha caught it and stabbed the second assailant in the gut as Katie moved into to head off the other who was stalking back towards them. The weapon Natasha had been using flew back into the alien’s hands and Katie ducked as she swung, jabbing her in the back of the leg with an electric powered escrima stick. The alien let out a yell, stumbled slightly and Steve cleared the platform in a leap, rolling and scooping up the second assailant’s staff from the floor, holding it up to block the blow that the creatured aimed at Katie. He grit his teeth, planting his legs to absorb the power of the hit, as Katie rolled to the side, jumped up and the two of them began to fight the alien, joined shortly by Natasha who had stabbed the other one in the gut, taking him out of the fight. Steve had to admit, the woman (if you could call her that) was a force to be reckoned with, but the three of them were just about getting the upper hand when they heard Sam yell.

“DUCK!”

The three of them did so and Sam flew in hard, kicking the woman backwards where she fell and scuttled over to her fallen friend. Sam landed next to Katie, drawing both his submachine pistols on the couple.

“Get up” she instructed to her fallen partner, her voice was deep.

“I can't” his gravelly, robotic voice replied.

“We don't wanna kill you.” Natasha spoke coolly “But we will”.

“You’ll never get the chance again.” The female levelled them, with a cold glare and with that a beam shot down from the hole in the station roof and the two were transported upwards. The weapon Steve was holding also shot out of his hand. He frowned in surprise for a moment, looking at his hand then upwards as the beam of light disappeared and the ship sped off.

“Can you stand?” Sam asked Vision as Katie replaced her sticks and walked towards Wanda and the android. When Vision shook his head, Sam moved forward to help him up.

Supported by Wanda and Sam, Vision looked over at Steve, Natasha and Katie, electricity shimmering over his surface. He’d been badly damaged in the fight, and as he spoke his voice distorted.

“Thank you, Captain.”

Steve took a deep breath and nodded. His face stern, but his eyes were much softer than his expression and Katie knew why. It had been a while since anyone other than Sam, Nat or Wanda had called him Captain.

Steve looked at the android, he might have been damaged but they had the stone, and that was the main thing. Nodding, he spoke “Let's get you on the jet.” his voice was soft and he moved to let Sam and Wanda support Vision, Natasha following as Katie dropped behind to stay with him as they took up the rear of the group, her fingers lacing into his.

Once Vision was safely settled in a seat at the side, Sam dropped into the pilot’s seat as Katie hit the button to close the ramp as the Jet rose into the air.

“I thought we had a deal.” Natasha spun angrily to Wanda. ”Stay close, check in. Don't take any chances.”

“I'm sorry. We just wanted time.” The younger woman said gently.

Katie glanced at Steve, he was stood up in the middle of the jet, hands on the buckle of his utility belt, staring seemingly at nothing, clearly contemplating something.

“Where to, Cap?” Sam asked.

Steve looked up, he glanced at Sam then locked eyes with Katie as he spoke one word, one simple word that they had all been waiting to hear for almost 2 years.

“Home” he said, looking round the jet.

*****

After a few hours, with the morning sky being the only thing in sight, Sam started to lower the jet through thick white clouds and Katie couldn’t help but inhale sharply when the compound began to take shape as she watched out of the front window. It looked the same. The buildings, the grounds…she wasn’t sure why she had expected anything to change, maybe because it felt like everything had changed for them, but either way, there it was. The same as the last time she had seen it.

Steve noticed her demeanour change slightly as they landed. She stood up straight, her shoulders squaring as if she was about to face an onslaught. And they were, in a way. On their way they’d let Bruce know that they had Vision and were heading back, but had had no idea what they were heading back to, nor did he care. Be it Ross, police, the army, whatever, he was done bowing to anyone’s will, over playing other people’s tunes. The two years they had spent hidden had shown them that they could operate on their own if required, and he wasn’t afraid to fight anyone who got in his way.

They stepped off the ramp and strode over the lawn, Katie taking a deep breath as she looked around. She felt a wave of that many emotions she couldn’t explain or identify half of them. Memories flooded in, the long summer nights they sat outside in the garden and on the BBQ patio until sunrise. Laughs during team dinners. Sam and Wanda collaborating on pranks. Training sessions with the team and Vision reading Tolkien aloud to Wanda before asking questions about humanity's love of fiction. Walks and picnics and other things in the ground, just her and Steve. Their wedding, God their wedding! Frequent visits from Tony, bringing in new ideas and improved gadgets. Getting back safe after being out on a long mission. Feeling relaxed and at ease.

Feeling at home.

Steve’s arm curled round his wife for a moment before he pressed a kiss to the side of her head as Vision opened the door.

“Still no word from Vision?”  The holographic figure of Ross looked up from where he sat at a table and glanced at Rhodey.

“Satellites lost him somewhere over Edinburgh.” Rhodey replied. He knew they were on their way to the compound, but hadn’t told Ross deliberately. 

“On a stolen Quinjet with four of the world's most wanted criminals.” Rhodey felt his temper beginning to flare. “You know they're only criminals because you've chosen to call them that, right, sir? “

“My God, Rhodes, your talent for horseshit rivals my own.” Ross said as he stood up. The sound of the call echoed down the corridor reaching the group that were making their way through to the lab.

“If it weren't for those Accords, Vision would've been right here” Rhodey shot back and Katie glanced back at Vision as the sounds of Rhodey and Ross’ voice grew louder as they neared their destination.

“I suspect it will be a Hollo Call.” Vision said gently, answering Katie’s unasked question.  His suspicions were proven correct as they rounded the corner and the lab came into view. Rhodey was stood across from where the holographic image of Secretary Ross was facing off against him.

"You have second thoughts?" Ross was challenging Rhodey, who smiled simply as his eyes shot sideways, as Steve strode forward, his presence as intimidating as ever, and the first thing Rhodey noticed was just how dark he looked. Gone was the upstanding, All American Hero, and in its place was someone much harder, far rougher round the edges. Kiddo looked different too. Her hair was shorter, she looked slimmer too, but her upper body looked stronger. 

"Not anymore." he grinned.

The holographic Ross followed Rhodey’s gaze and his eyes fell on Steve who was stood next to Katie at the front of the group, Natasha, Wanda, Sam and Vision behind them. Steve raised his chin a little defiantly and moved to take his power stance, feet apart, hands on his belt, before he greeted Ross politely.

"Mr. Secretary" 

Katie couldn’t help the smirk on her face as she watched Ross attempting to cover up the shock he had clearly felt at the group of outlaws turning up again. She locked eyes with Rhodey who gave her the smallest of winks before he glanced back at Ross who was shaking his head slightly as he approached Steve, his holographic form almost trying to square up to him.  Steve simply raised his chin further and looked down from the steps he was stood on,

"You got some nerve." Ross sniffed, staring up at him "I'll give you that."

"You could use some of that right now." Katie shot back bluntly, Ross turning his head to face her for a second. She held his gaze and arched an eyebrow until he turned back to Steve.

"The world's on fire." Ross said incredulously. "And you think, you can just walk back in here and all is forgiven?"

Steve levelled the secretary with a firm gaze. "I'm not looking for forgiveness.” his voice took on a threatening tone as he spoke “And I'm way past asking for permission.”

At that point the smirk on Katie’s face grew even wider as she stole a glance up at her husband, pride swelling in her chest as he continued, stoic and unyielding. 

“Earth just lost her best defender, so we're here to fight. And if you wanna stand in our way," he stepped down to be at level with the hologram, and stared it square in the eyes "We'll fight you, too."

Ross was practically foaming at the mouth as his eyes went to Rhodey and he spat out his order, "Arrest them."

"All over it." Rhodey promised nonchalantly before shutting off the hologram, shortly after a beeping noise sounded from the computers.

"That's a court-martial." He informed the group as he slapped the back of his right hand into his left palm, though his tone said told Katie that he blatantly couldn’t have cared less for Ross’ demands. There was a short pause as the group glanced down at their friend, Steve smiling softly, before Rhodey’s face split into a huge smile of his own.

"It's great to see you, Cap." he said, stepping forward.

"You too, Rhodey." Steve answered, taking the last 2 steps down before he shook Rhodey's hand. Katie threw herself at her brother’s best friend and he gave her a huge bear hug before he stepped backwards.

“Hey Kiddo, you do something to your hair?” he teased.  She smiled, stepping back from his embrace while he looked the rest of the group over.

"Well. You guys really look like crap." He said lightly. "Must've been a rough couple of years."

Steve looked round, an amused smile on his face as he glanced at his wife then to the rest of the team.

"Yeah, well, the hotels weren't exactly five star." Sam quipped back cheekily, the banter flowing between them like no time at all had passed.

"Uh, I think you look great."

Steve turned at the new voice to see Bruce inching his way into the room nervously wringing his hands together.

Steve and Katie remained silent, exchanging a glance. In the rush around and the fray of the fight, we’d forgotten to explain exactly who it was that called. "Yeah. I'm back."

Katie glanced over at Nat, she had her gaze fixed solely on the scientist as she spoke "Hi, Bruce."

"Nat." Bruce answered inclining his head towards her slightly as he fidgeted.

"This is awkward." Sam piped up. Steve and Katie looked at one another, before they both smiled and looked back up at Sam.

“Any news on Tony?” Katie asked gently, interrupting the silence that had fallen.

“Not yet no.” Rhodey said. “FRIDAY lost him when he left the atmosphere. We got NASA running scans and we’re trying to track his trail but…” He shook his head. 

“Typical Tony.” Katie rolled her eyes “Always has to go one bigger and one better doesn’t he?”

Her blasé tone wasn’t fooling anyone.

"Banner.” Steve said gently, looking across the room at the scientist. “Can you fill us in on what we're up against here?"

"Yeah sure," Bruce said nodding hesitantly.

“We’ll use the living area.”  Rhodey said, “Slightly more comfortable”

They made their way to the lounge, the same lounge they had all sat in discussing the Accords. Not much had changed; the furniture was different, there was couple of new sofas and the TV was larger, but that was it. 

“So start from the beginning.” Steve looked at Bruce where he stood near the window, one hand on the back of a chair, the other on his hip. He nodded encouragingly, he could see the man was nervous “Who took Stark and what are we up against?”

“I’ll give you the short version and we can plug in the gaps later.” Bruce sighed, “His name is Thanos. He’s a War tyrant, from a planet called Titan. He goes from place to place, destroying worlds, taking what he wants, when he wants. Loki’s attack on New York?” Bruce looked around “Thanos was the one who sent him to attack Earth,"

"But what does he want?” Katie asked.

“All six Infinity Stones…” Bruce supplied.

“Infinity Stones?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, so erm… the big bang, when it happened, it sent six of these crystals out across the universe. They each control an essential aspect of existence. Space. Reality. Power. Soul. Mind. Time.” Bruce said, rubbing his temple.

“Thor told us about them, after Ultron.” Katie looked round and her eyes fell on Steve’s “He said there were three out there unaccounted for, and three that he could locate. One was with some collector or something, one was housed in the tesseract which was locked in a vault in Asgard and the other…”

"Viz." Wanda murmured, glancing at the Stone in Vision's forehead.

Bruce nodded again. “Thanos came to our ship for the tesseract, which means he already had the Power and Space Stones before he came to Earth looking for the rest. Just that alone makes him the strongest creature in the whole universe, if he gets his hands on all six he could destroy all life as we know it."

“Hang on, the Tesseract was on your ship?” Katie looked at Bruce, “I thought it was on Asgard?”

“It was, but right before Ragnarok…” “Ragnarok?” Katie frowned, her mind whirring “But that’s…that’s the fabled downfall and the destruction of Asgard, I mean....” “I know.” Bruce looked at her. “Asgard was destroyed as part of a battle between Thor and his sister. So was his hammer.” “What?” Steve let out a breath as Katie felt her mouth drop open.

“Thor has a sister?”

“Look, that’s a whole different story.” Bruce said, his tone slightly frustrated. “All you need to know is that Loki –yeah, surprise, not dead, -stole the tesseract from the Vault before we left. Thanos boarded the ship and took the stone. Just took it.” he said, his arms swinging out to his sides before returning with a slap.

The room fell silent.

“So Thor.” Katie took a deep breath and asked the question she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to “Where…”

Bruce dropped his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh no.” Steve muttered as he dropped his head, looking downwards. He glanced up and saw across the table that Katie had her right hand against her forehead the heel of which was pressed hard into the space between her eyes in utter dismay.

Thor. Gone.  

“He was no match for Thanos, not when he had those stones.” Bruce said gently. A single tear trickled down Katie’s cheek and fell to the floor and Steve watched as she took a deep breath, furiously wiping at her face.

“So the two we fought came for the mind stone.”  Sam spoke for the first time “I’m assuming the ones you fought were after another one that’s located somewhere in New York?”

"The Time Stone.” Bruce nodded “It was being protected by some mystical arts guy, or a Wizard as Tony called him, Dr Steven Strange.” Katie’s head whipped round to Steve and he took a breath and straightened up, before he glanced over at Sam and Natasha and the four of them shared an instant understanding, they’d heard that name before on top of a multi-storey parking garage in DC.

"A TV anchor in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa City. Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who's a threat to HYDRA! Now, or in the future.”

“But he was taken along with Tony.” Bruce finished.

Katie didn’t even want to think about that right now. She had to trust in her brother’s quick mind and sharp resilience, because the alternative didn’t bear thinking about.

"Well, we gotta assume they're coming back, right?" Rhodey said and Steve looked down again, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of everything Bruce had said.

"And they can clearly find us." Wanda added.

"We need all hands on deck," Bruce said pacing, "Where's Clint?"

"After the whole Accords situation, he and Scott took a deal," Natasha explained, "It's too tough on their families. They're on house arrest."

"Who's Scott?" Bruce frowned.

"Ant Man," Steve answered.

"There's an Ant Man and a Spider Man?" Bruce looked around in confusion, but it was Rhodey who nodded, simply, like it was just perfectly normal. Bruce shook his head, realising that it didn’t really matter at the moment before he continued. "Thanos has the biggest army in the Universe. And he is not gonna stop until he gets Vision's stone." He said the last part softly, almost reluctantly.

"Well then, we have to protect it," Natasha said stepping forward but Vision immediately corrected her.

"No, we have to destroy it," he said resolutely, his gaze focussed on something out of the window as everyone turned to him.  He turned to face them and gestured to the stone in his head. "I've been giving a good deal of thought to this entity in my head, about its nature. But also its composition. I think if it were exposed to a sufficiently powerful energy source, something very similar to its own signature, perhaps" he made his way over to Wanda and held onto her upper arm, "Its molecular integrity could fail."

"Yeah, and you with it," Wanda looked at him, shaking her head "We're not having this conversation."

"Eliminating the stone is the only way to be certain that Thanos can't get it."

Katie noticed Wanda’s eyes flash as she glared at Vision. "It's also too high a price."

"Only you have the power to pay it," Vision said quietly.

Steve shifted slightly. He knew that Vision was right, but the idea of losing someone else in their group didn’t sit well.

"Thanos threatens half the Universe.” Vision persisted “One life cannot in the way of defeating him."

"But it should," Steve argued, his eyes were diverted to the floor as he spoke gently, and it was right. Who were any of them to decide one life was worth less than anyone else? He took a deep breath and looked up and around the room before landing back on the android "We don't trade lives, Vision."

"Captain, seventy years ago you laid down your life to save how many millions of people? Tell me, why is this any different?"

Steve took a sigh and stepped towards Vision, unable to answer because he knew the android had him, but then Bruce did it for him.

"Because you might have a choice," Bruce answered, and Steve could see the Scientist had suddenly had an idea, "Your mind is made up of a complex construct of overlays. Jarvis, Ultron, Tony, me, the stone. All of them mixing together. All of them learning from one another."

"You're saying Vision isn't just the stone?" Wanda asked.

"I'm saying that if we take out the stone, there's still a whole lot of Vision left. Perhaps the best parts."

"Can we do that?" Natasha asked looking back and forth between the android and the scientist somewhat impatiently.

"Not me. Not here."

Steve suddenly began to think, maybe not Bruce, but could Suri? She had fixed Bucky after all, surely she could do this. T’Challa would be happy to help. And with his defences, maybe Wakanda was the safest place for Vision to be.

"Well you better find someone and somewhere fast," Rhodey pipped in.  "Ross isn't just gonna let you guys have your old rooms back."

Steve nodded to himself, his mind made up before he raised his head to look up around the group. "I know somewhere."

His eyes momentarily locked onto Katie’s and he watched as the realisation crossed her face, she knew instantly where he meant.

“Wakanda?” she asked.

He nodded, turning to Sam. “Can we get wheels up in 20?"

Sam nodded and Steve turned to Rhodey. "That enough time for you to load up your suit?"

"Yeah. Should be."

“Ok. “Steve looked round “Banner, I suggest you grab what you need. The rest of us, back to the jet.”

The team began to bustle about and then Katie remembered something.

“Rhodey?” she asked, hopping down off the table, “Where’s Steve’s shield?”

Rhodey paused in the doorway and turned to face her. “I don’t know, sorry Kiddo. Tony never mentioned it.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Steve said gently. As Katie opened her mouth to suggest they had a look for it, he cut her off “And we don’t have time either, we need to go.”

Truth be told he didn’t want the shield back. It wasn’t his, not anymore.

“Fine.” Katie said somewhat stiffly. “I’m going to raid the armoury anyway, pick up a few things…” “Katie!” he called after her as she hurried out of the room. He let out a frustrated groan.

“I’ll go.” Rhodey said, patting the Captain on the shoulder. “I need my suit anyway.” The directions ingrained in her memory forever she headed to the armoury on autopilot and once inside she stopped dead. It had all changed. To the left were the usual lockers, although they now held no names she would lay odds on all the original seven of them still having kit in there. The guns, arrows, widow bites, shock batons were all still there on the racks. Rhodey’s War Machine kit stood in the corner, but what wasn’t was an Iron Man suit, or a Nova suit, of any description. Instead, in place of the the usual glass cabinets that held them were rows of smaller capsules.

“What the…” Katie mumbled, heading closer to examining “FRIDAY?”

“Welcome home Mrs Rogers…” The AI spoke, a hint of amusement in her voice “I believe Pod Seventy-Six is one of yours”

“Tony’s been working on upgrades” Rhodey spoke from behind, making her jump. “Nano-tech, courtesy of some work with Helen Cho.” “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Katie frowned as Rhodey made his way to the War Machine suit.

“Sevety-Six you say?” Katie’s eyes scanned the wall. “OK, FRIDAY hit me up.” One of the capsules opened and a smaller capsule flew out, opening in mid- air and then out of nowhere a suit formed around her body.

“Woah…” Katie said, as the familiar heads-up display lit up.

“The suit is held in a simple bangle” FRIDAY explained. “I’ll show you once the calibrations are done.”

As FRIDAY rattled through the new features, including a shield, new weapons Katie stole a glance in the mirror. It was much sleeker and less bulky, almost like wearing a cat-suit in a way. It was dark blue and gold, as always, with her Supernova Star in the middle of the chest. She gently reached up to touch it and the suit melted away to a silver cuff with the star in the middle which she tentatively placed around her wrist.

“Impressive huh?” Rhodey asked as he stepped into the War Machine suit.

“One word for it.” She said softly, tracing the outline of her bracelet with her fingers. “I can’t… why did he make it?” she looked up at Rhodey who slid his face plate back up to look at her.

“You know what Tony’s like.” Rhodey said, “Just because you left doesn’t mean he stopped caring.”

Katie looked down at the bracelet on her right wrist.

"Was- Was he okay, you know...after?" She asked, her voice cracking.

"He was as okay as he could be…” Rhodey hesitated slightly “To be honest, nothing was great though. The team was split and…”

Katie looked down “I had to go, I couldn’t stay, not after what he said to me.” Rhodey looked at her. “And have you ever considered why he said what he did?” “Because he hates me?” “No, because he loves you.” Rhodey took a deep breath “He knew full well that whatever choice you made it was going to kill you, but he couldn’t see you sat in a jail, he just couldn’t Kiddo. So he did what he had to do make sure you stayed away.” Whatever she had been expecting Rhodey to say it wasn’t that. His words hit her like a tonne of bricks and she felt her face screw up as she blinked back the tears. 

“Shit…” she managed to mumble out. “I could, you know we could have called him, or he could have called us, tried to …” “You’re both as obstinate as one another” Rhodey said, shaking his head as he started to walk to the door of the armoury “Which is why I know he’s still alive. He’s too much of a stubborn asshole to die. “

*******

Tony was pissed, really pissed. Not only was he stuck on this fucking ship, the kid was still here too. Peter Parker was almost as much of a pain in his ass as Katie had been when she was his age. The thought of his sister brought a pang to his heart, especially when he knew she was more than likely at the compound now after Bruce will have called them. He hoped anyway, he’d thrown the phone down before the fight after all, he just hoped the scientist had found it.

He looked around and glared at Peter before his shoulders fell. Well the kid was here now, might as well use him.

“Come on.” Tony sighed “We got a situation” He lead Peter over to a viewpoint to see the torture going on below. Peter crouched to study the situation, with that damned cloak leaning over his shoulder. “See him down there? He's in trouble.” Tony continued “What's your plan? Go.”

“Um. Okay, okay... uh...” Peter and the cloak popped back up suddenly, a smile playing on Peter’s face. “Okay. Did you ever see this really old movie, Aliens?”

It was a dumbass plan, but dumbass enough to work. Tony blew a hole in the side of the ship which caused a huge depressurization and as such the alien was sucked out of the side. A quick struggle and Dr Strange was rescued from drifting off to space, Tony repaired the side of the hull with nanites and that was that.

“We've gotta turn this ship around” Strange looked at Tony who rolled his eyes. .

“Yeah. Now he wants to run. Great plan”. 

“No, I want to protect the stone.”

Tony walked towards the expansive front view-port and from the way things were moving out there, he assumed they were travelling at some kind of hyper speed. The wizard was irritating him though, if he’d just agreed to get the stone out of the way they wouldn’t even be in this mess. 

“And I want you to thank me now. Go ahead, I'm listening.” he turned to glare at him.

“For what?” Strange snorted, “Nearly blasting me into space? 

“Who just saved your magical ass? Me.” Tony looked at him. “

“I seriously don't know how you fit your head into that helmet”. Strange shook his head as he eyed the billionaire up and down. 

“Admit it.” Tony said, for some reason he felt the need to make this guy admit he was wrong, just like he used to try and do with Rogers. No particular reason for it, other than being the one to come out on top “. You should have ducked out when I told you to. I tried to bench you. You refused.” 

“Unlike everyone else in your life, I don't work for you”. 

“And due to that fact, we're now in a flying doughnut billions of miles away from Earth with no backup.” Tony gestured around him.  

“I’m back up.” Peter said, raising his hand. 

“No, you’re a stowaway.” Tony said, waggling his finger between himself and Dr. Strange “The adults are talking”. 

“I'm sorry, I'm confused as to the relationship here. Wh-- what is he, your ward?” Strange frowned.

“No. I'm Peter, by the way.” Peter said, holding out his hand. 

“ Dr Strange.” Strange replied, looking at him.

“Oh, we're using our made-up names. Um. I'm Spider-Man, then”. 

Before Strange could respond, Tony piped up. “This ship is self-correcting its course. Thing's on autopilot.”

Strange walked closer to where Tony was stood. “Can we control it? Fly us home?”

Home…Thanos…home. 

They’d almost flattened New York once, and then there was Sokovia…no, home was most certainly a bad idea.

“Stark?” Strange’s voice cut across his thoughts. “Can you get us home? 

Yeah I heard you. I'm thinking. I'm not so sure we should.” he said, honestly.

“Under no circumstance can we bring the Time Stone to Thanos.” Strange warned “I don't think you quite understand what's at stake here”.

“No. It's you who doesn't understand, that Thanos has been inside my head for six years since he sent an army to New York and now he's back!” Tony said, stalking towards Strange, jabbing a finger in the air as he pointed towards the ground. “And I don't know what to do. So I'm not so sure if it's a better plan to fight him on our turf or his but you saw what they did, what they can do. At least on his turf, he's not expecting it. So I say we take the fight to him. Doctor. Do you concur?“

Strange had to admit, the guy had a point. Let Thanos destroy his own place, not theirs. “Alright, Stark. We go to him. But you have to understand... if it comes to saving you or the kid or the Time Stone... I will not hesitate to let either of you die. I can't, because the fate of the universe depends on it”

“Nice. Good. Moral compass. We're straight” Tony nodded. Stepping over to Peter he tapped each of the kids shoulder with the edge of his hand, dubbing him as is done at a knighting. 

“Alright, kid. You're an Avenger now”

Tony couldn’t look at him as he spoke, because he knew what he was signing the kid up for. 

******

The jet was filled with chatter as Rhodey, Bruce and the rest of the team were catching up but Katie wasn’t listening. She wasn’t feeling great either, that damned sick feeling was back, most likely this time down to utter fear about what was to come. If Bruce was right, she wasn’t convinced this was a battle they were ever going to be able to win.

“You know,” she said, looking up at Steve and voicing her fear softly, “if he’s already killed Thor, and it’s going to take us, plus a royal army to attempt to fight this guy off what fucking chance does Tony stand?”

Steve didn’t answer, he couldn’t. Because what he was thinking wasn’t going to provide her any comfort. Instead he merely tightened his arm around her and pressed his lips to her forehead.

It was a couple of hours later before they hit Wakandan airspace.

"We're coming up." Sam spoke as Steve focussed his attention out of the front of the jet, one arm hanging lightly against the grab rails on the roof.

"Drop to 2600, heading 0-3-0." Steve instructed.

Sam glanced back over his shoulder before he spoke, "I hope you're right about this, Cap. Or we're gonna land a lot faster than you want to."

Katie gave a small smile as she drew up next to Steve, wrapping her arms around his waist. They both stood, waiting as Sam flew the jet right into the trees, and swore with a loud ‘holy shit’ as it passed right through the hologram barrier into Wakanda. Everyone on the jet moved to get a better look at the beautiful mountains, lakes, buildings as the jet circled and Steve directed Sam to the runway.

They disembarked and Katie strolled off shortly behind Steve, followed by Natasha. Vision and Wanda stayed put, Steve telling them he would get them some help soon.

Bruce, who was at the rear with Rhodey whispered as he shrugged his arms into his jacket, "Should we bow?"

"Yeah, he's a king." Rhodey answered casually without missing a beat.

Steve ignored their banter instead smiling warmly at T'Challa as he reached out to shake his hand. "Seems like I'm always thanking you for something."

T'Challa smiled back and he shook Steve's hand before embracing Katie in a warm hug. “Mrs Rogers, it is a pleasure to see you.” “And you.” She smiled softly, before she stepped back and T’Challa nodded to the rest of the group. The clearing of a throat caught Katie’s attention and she turned just in time to see Bruce bow forward towards T’Challa.

"What are you doing?" Rhodey asked, looking at him.

"Uh, we don't do that here." T'Challa said kindly waving a hand to stop Bruce’s bow. Everyone smiled in amusement expect for Bruce who turned and shot a disbelieving but amused look at Rhodey who grinned back at him, nudging him with his elbow.

Then they turned serious again as T'Challa asked, "So how big of an assault can we expect?"

His guards moved as he spoke, opening up a path that T'Challa took, leading them away. They followed quickly while Bruce piped up politely as he explained, "Uh, sir, I think you can expect quite a big assault."

"How we looking?" Natasha added, addressing the king with a similarly concerned frown on her face.

"You will have my King's Guard," T'Challa listed, "the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and-" He gestured to the side just as a familiar, dark-clothed man stepped out of the building to greet them by the door.

"A semi-stable, one hundred-year-old man." Bucky grinned. Katie smiled back and then glanced at Steve as he walked forwards, that familiar boyish grin on his face as pulled the man into a hug clapping him on the back a few times.

"How have you been, Buck?" he pulled back to look at his friend. He looked as well as he’d seen him in years. Healthy and dare he say it, happy.

"Not bad," Bucky shrugged looking down at his new black vibranium arm, "For the end of the world.” Katie stepped forward to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You look good Buck.” she said, standing back to look him up and down before smiling, something that didn’t escape Steve’s notice. And yes, he knew there was nothing in it, and this was the most inappropriate time to get jealous but still…

“I feel it.” Bucky smiled as Steve slid his arm around his wife’s shoulder. “Goat farming suits me.” With that, Bucky turned to Sam. “Hey man.”  

“Frosty.” Sam responded with a jerk of his head.

They left Rhodey, Sam and Bucky with some of the guard to keep watch, and the rest of them followed T'Challa up to the labs where the person who was said to be able to safely remove Vision's stone was waiting. Steve could tell that the rest of the group weren’t expecting that person to be T'Challa's sixteen year old sister, Shuri. But T'Challa had full faith in her, as did Steve after she had managed to remove Bucky's programming.  

"Whoa." Shuri blinked as she stared at the hologram of Vision's brain and the stone in awe, "The structure is polymorphic...”

"Right, we had to attach each neuron non-sequentially." Bruce nodded and Shuri glanced at him with a raised brow.

"Why didn't you just reprogram the synapses to work collectively?" She asked looking at Banner. Vision also glanced at the doctor in question.

"Because... we didn't think of it." Bruce admitted sheepishly.

Shuri smiled and Katie had to fight the laugh that was brewing at the Princess’ playful nature "I'm sure you did your best."

"Can you do it?" Wanda asked stepping forward anxiously.

Shuri's smile dropped as she became more serious. "Yes, but there are more than two trillion neurons here. One misalignment could cause a cascade of circuit failures." Her gaze moved to T’Challa “It will take time, brother."

"How long?" Steve asked, straightening up slightly.

Shuri shook her head. "As long as you can give me." She answered honestly and worryingly.

A loud warning siren suddenly started and instantly Katie looked around. General Okoye tapped at something on her bracelet and she looked over at T’Challa."Something's entered the atmosphere."

Seconds later, Sam's voice called over their coms, "Hey, Cap, we got a situation here."

Katie moved over to the floor-length windows of the lab to look out, Steve stood close behind her as everyone followed to see what was going on. In the distance, they could see the plains all around as far as the border stretched to the city. A giant ship descended from the sky and as they watched it exploded high above the city as soon as it touched the shield, causing Katie to jump back slightly. Steve gently caught her, his hands going to her shoulders as his focus remained on the exploding ship which dissipated above the invisible barrier they had flown through.

"God, I love this place."  Bucky’s contented sigh rang over their coms.

"Yeah, don't start celebrating yet, guys. We got more incoming outside the dome." Rhodey warned.

More ships came crashing down to Earth just outside the Wakandan barrier disturbing the dust and sand on the ground as they landed. The lab they were stood in shook slightly and Vision sat up.

"It's too late."  he whispered and both Steve and Katie turned to look at him as he sat up. "We need to destroy the stone now."

"Vision, get your ass back on the table." Nat replied snapping her head back to look at him as she made her way to the door.

"We will hold them off." T'Challa said motioning to his guard.

"Wanda," Steve spoke up, looking at the young woman, "As soon as the stone's out of his head, you blow it to hell."

Wanda nodded with promise, "I will."

Steve turned his attention back to the window, watching the space ships which at the moment were doing nothing. T'Challa meanwhile, turned to his General and her warriors and began barking orders, "Evacuate the city. Engage all defences."

Steve turned to look at him as the king pointed in his directing before adding firmly. "And get this man a shield!"

Steve gave a small nod before he glanced back out of the window. For 2 years his fighting days had been focussed on simple people. Small groups of nobodies. Now, they were being thrown back into the crazy world of Aliens, AIs…and he knew they were going to look to him for leadership.

He might not be Captain America anymore, but he was still Captain Rogers, still that dumb kid from Brooklyn. And he still wasn’t going to run from a fight. 

 Tags

@the-omni-princess

@momobaby227

@geekofmanythings16

@angelofhell-666

@thewackywriter

@marvelfansworld​

@cobalt-gear

@asgardlover75​

@jennmurawski13​

@jtargaryen18​

[lovecaitlined]

Chemistry // College! Jungkook AU BTS fic

College! Jungkook AU

In which everyone’s favorite maknae is your shy lab groupmate in Chemistry...and soon, your best friend too...

Who doesn’t know Jeon Jungkook?

Well...a lot of people, actually...

Including yourself.

He’s not the most talkative person in class—

Actually, you’d go as far as to call him shy and introverted,

which is saying a lot, considering how quiet you yourself are.

He seems pretty nice, though!

The first time you noticed him, like really noticed him, was when he sat diagonally in front of you in organic chemistry class,

And you couldn’t help but notice his cute dimple, and the glistening single earring in his left ear as he bent over his desk to take down notes.

OrgChem was that one subject you dreaded every single MWF,

Like sure, you had a pretty good prof who was great at explaining things, but it still managed to melt your brain like all those chemical concoctions.

His cute face sort of brightened up your day, even though he was pretty silent and spent all his time pushing up his glasses nervously with his left hand and furiously scribbling down notes with his right.

And speaking of chemical concoctions...

He was your groupmate in lab!

Other than being in your OrgChem class, you didn’t really notice him much until you realized he was your lab groupmate.

You actually feel kind of bad because you’re usually lost during lab...

Your 3rd groupmate was usually MIA (rumor has it that he left school to become a K-pop trainee), and well, let’s face it: You weren’t the brightest Bunsen burner in the room.

You were usually lost af...

As if pre-lab and post-lab weren’t already hell enough to process, you had the entire experiment to get over with.

Other groups boded well, you were sure of it,

But you were just always so lost?!

The heat of the lab would get to you, your eyes claustrophobic behind ginormous goggles, your hands sweating in gigantic white gloves,

And let’s not forget your lab coat, which was two sizes too big for you.

Jungkook didn’t seem to notice, though...

Actually, he didn’t seem to notice anything—

Or so you thought.

Anyway, Jungkook was always so nice.

He’d always let you order him around

Well, not really order. But you didn’t get a thing.

“Jungkook, did you get what Ma’am said? What was that about combining Test Tube A and Test Tube B—”

“She means to heat up the contents of Test Tube A first in the beaker before adding in Test Tube B. Here, I’ll do it for you.”

“No, no, that’s okay! That’s fine! Um...how do you turn on the Bunsen burner?”

You were a hopeless case.

But Jungkook didn’t mind!

In fact, he was so nice about it.

He was always so patient and willing to teach you everything.

Soon, you became less lost and you began to feel less guilty for how much he was carrying your group since you actually got to do you part now.

You soon began to appreciate Jungkook for who he really was.

A quiet dude, but really sweet and kind at that.

An introvert, but passionate in his studies.

He wasn’t one of those people who topped the class, but he did get good grades, mostly A’s and the occasional B+.

He was probably gonna get an A- in OrgChem, and frankly, you were slightly jealous.

But you really admired the passion and dedication he put into his studies, as well as his work ethic.

And Jungkook may be shy, but he was starting to warm up to you, too!

Like he’d flash you a smile from beneath those huge goggles during lab...

Or he’d crack a joke or two once in a while.

His favorite prank was dropping some explosive substance into the flames and silently laughing at your horrified face every time you yelled, “NO!!!!!!!!!”

He was always so quiet, so serious, so focused,

But in between lulls in the lesson, or waiting for something to change color, you guys would talk.

It was nothing much, just a lil small talk at first,

But they soon became full-fledged conversations.

Jungkook originally wanted to be a musician, but his parents wanted him to become a doctor. He refused, but as a compromise, he had to take chemical engineering instead.

You’d have taken chemical engineering too, but you thought you would find it too difficult. Chem wasn’t your strong point. So here you were, a civil engineering student, with a minor in Chemistry.

You told Jungkook how much you hated OrgChem and you were surprised when he said he could tutor you.

“Oh no, it’s fine! Really. You don’t have to—”

“I mean, I’m busy, but I could...”

You guys resolved to have him teach and clarify for you the hard bits of the lesson during lab when the experiments weren’t too busy...

And Jungkook had such a smooth voice, and he was pretty good at explaining things.

(Actually, you could see traces of his musical inclination here and there—he sang and hummer to himself a bit while listening to your professor)

Your chem grades improved; sure, they didn’t soar as high as his did, but that B+ was something to be proud of.

Even after the sem had ended, you’d still see him the next year around campus

You’d always bump into each other and exchange greetings.

“Hey, what’s up?”

You two ran into each other more than you should have, though

And since you had the same lunch break some days, you both thought, Why not eat with each other?

So eat with each other you did, and you enjoyed having him as a lunch buddy.

He was pretty cute with that sweet smile and dimple, but well, you weren’t ready to admit that to yourself, yet.

So you two would have lunch together at times,

Nothing fancy, though, just standard college cafeteria good, although you had to admit the food was pretty solid for what it was

And the company made it taste even better.

Jungkook became more animated when he was around you

Or at least you thought so.

One of his friends, Jimin, was in your English Literature class and one day, completely out of the blue when you were paired for a Shakespeare reading, he sincerely thanked you for being nice to his friend.

To which you were like, “Oh, no! It’s no problem! He’s probably helped me a lot more than I’ve helped him—”

But Jimin just replied, with a small, knowing smile on his face, “Trust me. I know. So thank you.”

“Jungkook has been happier these days because of you,” he added.

You felt kind of flustered and flattered and thanked him in a hurry before sprinting off to your next class. What was that about?

But honestly, you didn’t really mind having Jungkook around, either...

After a month or two, your friends would notice you hanging out more and more together...and would tease you about it...

They’d ask, “Are you and that guy, you know, a thing?”

To which you’d reply, “Me and Jeon Jungkook? No, no,” while laughing nervously.

But lunch buddies became library buddies became official friends...

Jungkook and you would talk a lot, about your hopes and dreams for the future.

“I want to be a singer or a musician or something,” he admitted to you sheepishly one day. “I mean, I know it’s ridiculous, because, don’t laugh, I’m, well, shy and all, but I’ve really wanted to be one for quite some time now!”

“I would never laugh at you!” you’d tell him. “In fact, that’s great. As your friend, I support.”

He looked a little sad that day, but you didn’t think too much about it.

After all, you kind of envied him a bit then and there. Imagine having so much passion and hard work for a dream, and working so diligently at a college course you weren’t even interested in.

At least he had dreams. What did you have?

Must be nice to have you ish together.

But you two continued to hang out more and more.

One day, after your Coding class, you walked out the computer lab to find him standing in the hallway.

You looked at him, agape. “J...Jungkook?”

He looked sheepish. “Hey.”

You smiled. “How did you know my schedule?”

“I, uh, you must have sent it to me once.”

“Ah. I see.”

Awkward silence.

Then, you asked, “Did...did you want to tell me something?”

He grinds his teeth. “Erm, yeah. Do you want to have dinner with me on Friday night?”

Your eyes widened. “What?!” you exclaimed.

“Ah, no, no, no!” he said, shaking his head and waving his hands quickly. “You...you don’t have to if you don’t want to!”

You laughed. “Calm down! I mean...I would love to! I’m just...shocked, I guess, that you would ask me that.”

He smiles, showing his dimply face again, while looking at the ground. “Yeah.”

It was Wednesday then. It took all of two days for that fated night to come,

And you weren’t gonna deny, you thought about it constantly all the time.

You didn’t really have any classes with him anymore then, but it was still strange that you didn’t seem him anywhere around campus, almost as if...as if he were avoiding you? Your anxiety began to kick in: What if he stood you up?

No. No, no, no. Stop that, you told yourself. You’re being ridiculous. Jungkook would never do that.

He met you outside your dorm at exactly 6pm. He was dressed casually but nicely, in a white button-down and jeans, and beat-up sneakers.

You had on a nice halter top and denim skirt, with the strappy, pointy black flats you got on sale recently. You hoped you weren’t underdressed.

He smiled when he saw you at the doorway. “You look great! Shall we?”

The night went pretty well!!! You two had dinner in that new pasta restaurant a few train stops away from the university, and you walked around the park for a bit.

Talking. That’s what you did. You’d never seen Jungkook more animated than ever then, and you didn’t have to try, either. The conversation flowed as smoothly and nicely as could be. It was, frankly, invigorating.

By the time you guys cared to check the time again, it was getting late. Jungkook looked at his watch. “9PM. Your dorm curfew is 10, right?”

You nodded. “Right.”

“Well, let’s catch the bus now while there still time...” his voice trailed off. “But first...”

There was an element of alarm in his voice, making you look up. “Yes?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “I...I wanted to tell you something.”

Your heart drops.

“I...I like you.”

You’re not sure just exactly what you felt at that moment, but you smiled. Finally, after months and months of getting to know each other and friendship.

Honestly, you weren’t sure either. But he was the sweetest and kindest person in the world, and you were glad you met him.

Jungkook wouldn’t look you in the eye any longer after he said that, so you take your hand and make sure you make eye contact with him.

“Jeon Jungkook, I like you, too.”

He looked up to you then and smiled the biggest smile you’d ever seen him smile.

Jungkook isn’t a guy of many words, but that’s okay, so are you

Though arguably, you’re the more talkative, more animated one in your relationship.

Your friends and his friends would tease you too, saying things like, “Finally” or “It’s been months!” or “I bet he only said ‘I like you’ for his confession instead of some grand speech” and, well...couldn’t really argue with that.

But his conversations with you are always your favorite, because that’s when you see him for who he truly is, and because that’s when he pours his heart out.

You two are only yourselves when you’re with each other, after all.

(Even when he begins to show his crazier side, like pranking you, scaring you, or making horrible puns like “I guess we really had some chemistry, huh,” and you really want to smack him but you don’t because you love him that much.)

He’s still very passionate about the things he loves, like music and chemistry, which you love—

And he would never stop to work hard at fulfilling his dreams.

But you know what that means?

It means that he’s really passionate about you, too.

The End

♡

[tagsecretsanta]

From Soniabigcheese

to @marsmckie

As always, I don’t own this piece. The creator has given me specific permission to post it here for the secret cupid. 

It wasn’t a date ... it was just two men, who’d been stood up ... on Valentine’s Day, in the pouring rain ... in London. The nearest shelter, was an art gallery, because all of the restaurants were busy.

That was it.

But ... as time went on, things escalated a little, as Brains quietly asked Virgil about each exhibit they looked at. And listened attentively at his own personal opinions. The funny thing was ... as Virgil had noticed ... that Brains’ stutter wasn’t quite so pronounced when they were in each other’s company. And he was an excellent listener, taking in every detail, asking the right questions.

He was comfortable to be around.

And it made complete sense, when, back on Tracy Island, Virgil had always had that prickly sensation when he felt someone watching him. He put it down to MAX, as that little robot was constantly hanging around.

But nope. It had been Brains all along.

Feeling chilly, they headed towards the small coffee shop and sat together, nursing mugs of hot coffees.

“So,” Virgil began, “here we are ... with no dates.”

He sipped his coffee and peered over the mug at Brains, whose overly large spectacles quickly steamed up. He hadn’t noticed the different hues of browns, ambers and flecks of orange in those limpid pupils. They were always hidden behind a pair of blue rimmed glasses. Or maybe it’s because they’d been so busy, that he’d never really taken any notice. But the lens magnified so much detail.

He coughed slightly, quietly.

It was just the artist in him... that’s all. There’s nothing going on between those two. Nothing.

So why did he feel comfortable around this bespectacled nerd then?

Scott ... he was always on edge. John ... he hardly saw the guy, only spoke via the comms system. Gordon ... well ... say no more. They were happiest pranking one another. Always playing  silly games of one-upmanship with one another. Alan ... well ... he’s still just a kid And Kayo ... she’d just as easily punch him in the face if he should ever invade her personal space. Besides, she’s practically their sister.

“That’s right,” Brains interjected with a grimace, “this coffee’s too hot.”

He blew on the top before taking another sip. He put his cup down and looked directly at Virgil, who, by the way, felt his cheeks go hot.

“And you?” “Oh ... I let Gordon talk me into a dating website,” he replied with a shrug, “guess she took one look at me and scarpered.” “Are you kidding me?” Brains butted in.

He was horrified that someone would walk away from this handsome hunk sitting before him. Then stopped short, thinking very hard.

“Wait ...” he said finally, “did you say .... Gordon? ... and dating website???” “Uh, yeah.” “Now that’s funny.” “What is?” “He did the same to me. Tried to set me up with someone ... especially after Moffie walked out of my life.”

He took another sip of his coffee before continuing.

“I guess she was only after my ’big brain’ after all.”

He chuckled softly and Virgil followed suit.

Gordon ... that sneaky little ... oh just wait ... he’s going to exact so much revenge on that little git ...

Oh wait ...

He sat bolt upright and took hold of Brains’ hand.

“Don’t you realise?” he said quickly, “we’ve just been set up ...” “Huh?” “... by Gordon.”

He laughed softly, squeezing Brains’ hand.

“He must have known... somehow. That sneaky little....” “Oh, there’s no worry.”

Brains placed his other hand on top of Virgil’s and smiled.

“At least it’s out in the open now.”

Virgil’s mouth dropped open, taken by complete surprise at Brains’ frankness and honesty. He’d never expected this shy, nervous little man to be so open. Mind you, after some thought, it was probably because, in between rescues, they’d always managed to spend some time together in the hangar, working on Thunderbird Two.

A wry grin spread over Virgil’s face.

“Okay,” he said slowly, “since Gordon’s the antagonist here, setting us up. Let’s get some sweet revenge on him.”

Brains cottoned on almost immediately and returned the grin with one of his own.

“We could fill his spare wetsuit with Jello.” “No ... he’d know it was us. I’m sure we can figure something out. I do have many projects on the go.”

After they’d finished their coffees, they both agreed to visit the erotica section of the gallery, where Brains quizzed Virgil about life studies.

“Oh, I don’t know,” came the reply, “it’s not something I’m really into. However, I wouldn’t mind giving it a go.” “And who do you think would be a perfect model? Gordon?”

Virgil laughed.

“Nah, he’d only be too happy to strip naked and pose.”

He flushed a little and looked sideways at Brains, clearing his throat. Now it was HIS turn to be forward.

“Um .. I think I’d rather start with ... erm ... maybe .... er.... you?”

Brains stared at Virgil and smiled.

“As long as you make it quite tasteful....”

He turned his head towards one of the statues, which was ... to put it bluntly ... ‘well hung’, and laughed, pointing.

“And please ... don’t exaggerate.”

[dansphlevels]

A Sword, A Little Bit Of Magic, And A Whole Lot Of Pizza

This story was made in part of the @phandomreversebang, based on these art posts by @myawfod, and edited by @smiles-are-toxic! Make sure to check out the art before reading!

Summary: When Dan and Phil are following strange dark creatures that appeared out of nowhere in London, things go wrong and they end up being sucked into an alternate dimension, where magic exists and they must find a way to use it in order to contain the creatures before they completely overrun this new world. Warning: contains the use of ‘spork’ as an insult, the destruction of a perfectly good library book, and questionable pizza physics. 

Length: 15k words 

Themes: alternate universe (literally), magic, alternate dimension, prophecy, two dorks trying to survive in an alternate dimension, fluff, light pining

 In the corner booth of the pizza parlour sat two boys. College-aged, maybe a bit older. They talked quietly over an already half-eaten pizza. They blended in just fine with the other customers in the shop, save for the fact that they smelled a little off. But they knew that they didn’t quite belong. These boys weren’t from this city, or even this country. In fact… these boys weren’t even from this dimension.

 And this is where our story begins. Two boys, in a pizza shop, with hardly an idea how they got here and no idea how to get home, but some idea of why they’re here. But I suppose, in order to understand fully what’s going on, we have to start at the beginning.

---

“Come on Phil,” Dan muttered quietly, crouching as he crept along. “I think I saw another one.”

“Dan, are you sure? I'm not sure if…”

“Shh! Phil, look!”

They peered over a large tank of something, careful where they stepped. The warehouse was a mess, with pipes and tools scattered aimlessly. One wrong move would knock something over, and the creatures not thirty meters away would spot them.

Phil rested his hands on the tank, which hummed underneath him. The factory, however disorganized, was active.

“What do you think they are?” He whispered.

Dan narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the dark figures in the minimal light. They were as black as shadows, from what he could tell, so that they blended in with the shadows of the surrounding machines. But through a large hole in the ceiling, the moonlight shone through and gave them some form.

Shadowy, scaly limbs, tendrils of darkness swirling up towards the light. Their eyes were gold, huge and reflective. They were truly creatures of pure terror.

“They look like the guy in Death Note,” Phil suggested helpfully. “What's his name? Rick?”

“It's Ryuk, you spork. And he was a death god; these are clearly monsters of some kind.”

Phil scowled, pouting. “I think they look like Rick.”

“Ryuk!”

One of the creatures growled gutturally, whipping around in their direction. The two boys ducked, breathing shallowly.

They waited in silence for a few seconds. “You think he saw us?”

“Oh my gosh Phil, stop assigning gender to this creature just because it's scary! For all you know, it's a ‘she’, and you just hurt her feelings!”

The monster growled in anguish as if to emphasize the point.

“See? Rebecca’s upset!”

Phil peaked over the tank, finding Rebecca in the darkness. “I think she's more of a Becky.”

Becky’s glowing eyes locked on Phil, and she let out a horrible wail, causing Phil to stumble back in surprise. “She's calling for backup!” Dan stage-whispered, horrified.

“Um, Dan?”

“How many of them do you think there are? I see at least five, but it's hard to make them out!”

“Dan!”

Dan spun around, “What?”

Phil gestured to the contraption behind them: a mass of tubes, all connecting to one central control panel in the center. All the lights on the panel were glowing.

Dan's eyes widened. “Phil…”

“I didn't mean to! I just… tripped!”

“You klutz! How many did you press?”

Phil chewed on his lower lip. An alarm started going off, whirring loudly in warning.

“Phil!”

“Most of them!” He confessed. “Not all of them! But most! Dan, we need to get out of here!”

The monsters wailed in agony at the noise, writhing in agitation. A pipe burst, spraying them with some sort of watery substance.

“Dan, come on!”

Dan held up one hand silently. “Wait. Watch what's happening.”

Another pipe burst, and then a third, showering the creatures in blue foam and brown sewage. “That's disgusting!”

Becky let out a wail that tore through the entire factory, causing the foundation to shudder. She stomped, and a thin tube burst, mixing with the chemicals already on the floor and exploding in a blast of white light, throwing Dan and Phil backward.

Phil landed on the floor roughly, sliding back to hit his back against a machine. “Dan!”

“Over here!”

Ignoring whatever was going on at the site of the explosion- clearly, the monsters had more important things to focus on than two puny humans- Phil ran over to the site of Dan's voice. He'd landed in a mass of broken piping. “Are you okay?”

Dan brought his hand to his head, touching carefully. His fingers came back reddened. “I hit my head. But it's not that bad, Phil- look.”

Phil turned around, looking where Dan was pointing. There was a gaping hole with a mass of swirling blues and purples where the monsters had just been.

All the monsters had been sucked in, all except Becky. She whined, backing up against the machines.

“A portal,” Phil whispered.

Cracks spider-webbed across the floor. The entire building was shaking with the power of the portal, the winds from it almost too strong.

“Come on Dan, we have to go!” Phil tried to pull Dan up, but the boy wasn’t thinking about escape.

“Phil… we don't know where that portal is going. The monsters…”

“Dan, come on, we need to leave!”

Dan cast one last glance at the portal- wistful, almost? —and stood. “Okay. Let's go.”

They turned, and the floor crumbled beneath them. They shouted in surprise as the portal engulfed them.

---

They landed on grass that looked soft but was as hard as pavement upon impact. Phil groaned. “Ow.”

He looked up, just in time to spot the last of the dark creatures disappear into the shadows.

Dan grunted. “Well, that was fun. Where-” he sat up and stopped mid-sentence.

They weren't in London, that much was obvious. In fact, it looked like they weren't even on Earth anymore.

“It’s…erm…” Dan mumbled. Phil could only nod, awestruck as he took everything in. They were in a park, in a big city, bigger than London even. Skyscrapers reached up, trying to grab the misty clouds that floated by in the lilac-pink sky. Huge serpentine creatures seemed to swim in the sky, writhing gracefully like eels in the ocean.

“It's like New York,” Dan realized aloud. “But... on drugs.”

He wasn't looking at the sky. Slowly, Phil allowed his gaze to lower, taking in the brick and glass apartment buildings, then the trees, which were green, yet seemed to glow a faint blue, like they were radioactive. Lower still were the sidewalks where people- and Phil used that term lightly- walked. They'd been to New York before, and if you didn't look too closely, this place didn't look much different. People in New York dressed weirdly sometimes, but this... was a little different. Phil spotted pointy witch hats, top hats, hats with strangely lifelike horns protruding from them. Cats walked freely through the throngs of people, most of them with stark black fur. A woman and man kissed on the corner, and the woman dropped her purse. Instead of falling, it stopped, levitating in the air patiently.

Phil swallowed hard. “I don't... think we're on Earth anymore.”

 ---

It took about three days for them to adjust to the new world. They slept in alleys and ate out of trash cans, until the second day when Dan went out for a little while and returned with a cluster of wallets. “Pizza money,” he explained with a devious smile.

 There were libraries, and banks, and cars and busses. There were pizza parlors and tall buildings that reached for the sky. They were significantly lower than the skyscrapers in New York, Phil decided, but with a similar structure. He and Dan could go about their business under the radar. The people and creatures that lived in this world were all so strange that no one bothered to question the two boys, even if they were a little unkempt.

 The world was strange. Besides the humans that milled around just about everywhere, there were a lot of creatures that they'd never seen before. Lots of cats- many of which seemed obsessed with Dan, following him everywhere- and almost all were black. They sometimes appeared seemly out of nowhere. Many women walked around wearing all black, with large, pointed hats on their heads and hefty purses. Sometimes the cats appeared from under their skirts, scurrying out and running to catch mice.

 There were also lizards- or something like lizards. They were the shape and size of lizards, except they had rubbery bats wings, barely large enough to support their body weight in the air. They ate small bugs and pieces of human food and were eaten by moths the size of baseball hats.

 Dan didn't like the moths. Out of all his courage, his bravery that had led them to this world in the first place, he was terrified of moths. Go figure.

 A few times, they saw the dark creatures that had led them to this world. Maybe ‘saw’ wasn't the right word- they saw places where shadows were darker, dark swirls of black in the distance knocking over trash cans or eating cats. The creatures had a strange quality to them like they had a different filter on them than the rest of the world. One thing was clear- they didn't belong here.

 But what were Dan and Phil to do? They didn’t even belong here.

---

 "The tourist’s guide isn't very helpful," Dan noted. "I think it's in Chinese."  Phil was only half listening, skimming his fingers along the spines of the books that lined the library shelves. The shelves were packed impressively tight, like there were twice as many books as there was space, which was ridiculous, as the library seemed to go on endlessly. "Mm-hmm," he mumbled. He pulled over a book at random, the books immediately slamming together, closing the gap where it had been. Phil eyed the books suspiciously, but didn't question it. "'Chapter One: Feeding and Watering Your.... Manta Jay?'" He read from the book.  "It must say 'manta ray,'" Dan corrected, still looking through the illegible tourist book. He sniffed it longingly, sighing in delight. "It has that new book smell. God, I love that smell."  Phil chose to ignore Dan's weird sniffing. Ignoring Dan was actually one of Phil's most impressive talents. "No, 'manta jay'. Is that a manta ray, like a sea pancake, but... it has wings and eats berries?"  "Or maybe it's a bird, that has through weird flappy swimmy things," he suggested. "Like, a blue jay with no feathers, just skin."  Phil cringed. "It says here to feed your manta jay 'assorted fish and nuts. Trail mix and salmon is higher recommended.'"  "Too weird," Dan decided. "New book."  Phil went to put the book back, but with a quick look at the shelf, it was clear that wouldn't be an easy task. Instead, he set it on top, patting it slightly awkwardly, and going to get another one.  He trailed his fingers along the spines again, waiting to find one that stuck out to him. His fingers had just closed around one when behind him, a book practically jumped out, knocking him in the back of the head with a WHAP!

 Phil yipped, collapsing to the ground, his hands covering his head protectively. "What was that?!"  "It was a book," Dan walked over, eyes wide. He picked up the book, trying to open it, but it didn't let him. "It's stuck!"  "Let me." Now standing (and blushing), Phil reached for the book and opened it easily. He glanced at Dan.  "Don't you say a thing," Dan warned, his cheeks warming up as well. "I may not be very strong, but I can open a freaking book." His cheeks just grew redder as Phil didn't respond. "Well? What does it say?"  "It's... a guide to magic." Phil read quickly, his shoulders tensing. "'Only some people have the capacity to use magic, and everyone's abilities are different. You may be able to use potions, but not cast spells, or vice versa. And of course, you may not have an aptitude for either. You can find out online with our immediate magic aptitude test for a small fee of 29.99....'" He trailed off, skipping ahead a few pages. “Oh look, this is inspirational. ‘The first step to being a good magic user is believing in yourself. The rest comes after.’”

 “That’s nice,” Dan commented, bored. “Does the book have anything else besides inspirational quotes and online surveys?”

 Phil flipped ahead a couple dozen pages, stopping at random. “Here’s a recipe for a potion. ‘The Cure of Desperamos is a potion made for making invisible or hardly visible creatures visible.’”

 Now Dan was interested. He moved over, peering over Phil's shoulder. "Where do you see that? The page is blank."  "Huh?" Phil looked up, looking confused. "No it's not. Look: 'The Desperamos potion is made for making...'" He read the line again, this time underlining it with his finger. "See?"  Dan shook his head. "I don't. It just looks like a blank page."  "Guess we need to make the potion so you can see the words," Phil joked. "All we need is.... ‘4 oz of Jupiter's Solvent, a chopped source of tears, and a pinch of gourd, and tine and nage and stoke’.” He blinked, reading it again, this time the full recipe. It said:

For this potion you will need: 4 oz of Jupiter's Solvent a chopped source of tears a pinch of gourd, and tine, and nage and stoke Mix them together until they croak. Chop them up with which berries and kale dance. Use 10^-2 meter wavelengths to turn it balmy And then screw it all, for the powder palmy

"Yeah, okay, I think it might be more difficult than that. I don't know what any of those ingredients are. Or how to make it.” Phil glanced around, checking for librarians before quickly tearing the page out, shoving it in his pocket.  "Phil!" Dan accused.  "It's cool!" Phil defended. "And who knows? Maybe we can find... whatever the heck a 'Jupiter's solvent' is. It could be useful." He nudged Dan playfully. "Maybe we could use the potion to find your self-esteem."  "Or my dignity," Dan added dryly. "Still...." he shrugged, letting it go. Phil went to put the book away, but Dan quickly stopped him. "Wait! I wanna sniff it!"  "You're so weird!"  "I don't care!" Dan ripped the book from his hands, inhaling through his nose deeply. "Oh yeah. Old book smell. Almost as good as new book smell, but dustier. Here, sniff it."  He all but shoved the book in Phil's face. He sniffed quickly. "It smells- ac-hoo!" He sneezed, and Dan yelped. "Sorry! Bless me!"  "The book!" Dan was saying. Phil wanted to roll his eyes, when he looked over and realized that the book was burning in Dan's hands. He dropped it, stomping on it.  "How'd it catch on fire?" Phil looked around rapidly, but there wasn't a candle or lighter anywhere around.  "It's because you sneezed!" Dan accused, stomping out the flames.  "What?!"  "I don't know how, but as soon as you sneezed it set on fire-"  A librarian walked over, and stopped when she saw the commotion. Phil, looking a little nasally, and Dan, stomping on a book. She went to step forwards, the shook her head, turning and leaving.  "She must think we're crazy."  "Well, you. You're assaulting a book. So mean Dan, what did that book ever do to you?"  "Hey you're the one who set it on fire!"  "Am not!"  "Are too!"  "Am n- achoo!" He sneezed again, even more forcefully than last time.  They looked around worriedly. No fire. "See?" Phil defended. "It's not-"  A few feet away, the carpet sparked and caught ablaze.  They put out the fire, and hurried out of the library with only the page from earlier. Phil felt horribly guilty about setting the book on fire, but he also didn't want to go to some weird magic prison, so they booked it out of the building.  As they sped walked along the streets, Phil sneezed a few more times, lighting more fires along the way. "Stop it, will you?" Dan warned, grabbing Phil's hand to pull him along. Phil almost jumped at the contact, his cheeks going red once more.  "I can't!" He defended. "I think I inhaled a bunch of that dust into my lungs!"  "It's magic," Dan decided. "It must be. You heard what that book said, some people can do it. I guess you're one of the people who can."  "What about you?"  Dan stopped walking suddenly. "Well... maybe I can."  "Maybe yours is stronger," Phil agreed. "Don't sneeze. You'll cause a nuclear explosion."  Dan snorted, and they kept walking. Their hands shifted, so they were holding hands more naturally, less forced. Phil wondering if Dan had forgotten. He certainly hadn't- would Dan notice his sweaty palms? He hoped not.  But Dan's thoughts were elsewhere. They turned a corner, with no particular direction in mind besides away from the library they'd vandalized. "You think you can do more than just sneeze and set thousand year old books on fire?"  Phil shrugged. "Maybe. Like what?"  They looked around. Finally, Dan pointed. "Do that."  Phil looked to where he was gesturing, at a couple kissing. Phil felt his heart jump around a little. "You want me to... kiss you?"  "What? No, look behind them. At the broom. See? It's sweeping the sidewalk, but there's no one there. It's moving on its own."  "Or there is a person behind it, but they're just invisible," Phil argued. "Hey, we could use the potion!" He looked at Dan, who was looking at him with an annoyed but somehow still sweet expression, like 'that was so stupid but actually kind of could be true, oh my God you're so ridiculous I love you'. But that might have just been how Phil saw it.  Phil shook his head. "Okay. Right. Let me try. Wait, I need a broom."  "Just try to make something move. That paper cup, on the grass? Try throwing it away."  Phil stared at the cup. He narrowed his gaze, trying to focus solely on it.  Dan brushed against his side casually. Phil wanted to whimper. It was so embarrassing, whenever he was around Dan his heart just seemed to beat faster and his palms were all sweaty and he always blushed and-  "Well?" Dan asked expectantly. "Do you think it'll work?"  Phil'd forgotten he was supposed to be trying to move the cup. But now he was too distracted.  He shook his head, standing up fully. "No. I guess I can't do it."  Dan sighed. "Well, sneeze-fires are still cool. Maybe you can tone it, make it so you can set things on fire without having to sneeze first." —-

 They were making camp for the night when it happened.

 “Final Fantasy is definitely better,” Phil argued, absentmindedly drawing in the gravel floor of the alley. “You can’t even say that Mar-”

 Before he could finish his sentence, Dan had grabbed him, covering his mouth with his hand. Phil made a noise of surprise, and then one of protest, and Dan shushed him quickly. “Look!” His whispered.

 Only a dozen meters away, a swirling mass of shadows lurked, tendrils black as night floating around like the feelers on an ant. Dan and Phil watched in horror as someone walked past, a woman with a black pointed witches hat and dark purple cloak, and before they could call out, the creature struck. The woman was absorbed into the black seamlessly, and the creature slinked away. All that was left was her purple cloak, discarded on the ground.

 Dan let go off his hold on Phil, but he didn’t bother stepping away, too in shock. “You don’t think-”

 “It consumed her,” Dan agreed, his mouth open in horror. “That was one of those creatures, wasn’t it? Phil, we have to do something! We have to find a way to get rid of these monsters, before…”

 “Woah woah woah, slow down.” Phil stepped away, turning so he could look Dan in the eyes. “I agree that we have to do something, but what can we do?”

 Dan was about to respond when his eyes caught onto something. “What’s…?” He stepped forwards, around Phil, and went over to the discarded cloak. He pushed it aside, revealing something metallic and shiny.

 Phil walked over to see what it was. As he got closer, his eyes widened.

 The stared at it in silence for a few moments. Then finally, Dan spoke up. “It’s a sword.”

 It was. But not in the typical way. It was a little less than a meter long, and curved slightly, with one sharp side, not two. Phil reached over to pick it up, but as soon as his fingers made contact, he lurched back. “Ow! It’s burning hot!”

 Dan seemed to be in a sort of daze, as if his reality was replaced by a daydream. He leaned forwards and trailed his fingertips along the metal, picking it up by the grip. It fit into his hand perfectly. “It’s not even warm,” he mused.

 Dan took a few steps forward and swung the sword. It was a perfect weight, and when swung created a deadly silver arc.

 “You couldn’t read the magic book,” Phil realized. “And I can’t touch the sword… it’s like we’re being pulled in different directions. Magic, and…”

 “...and combat,” Dan finished, eyes following the sword with utter fascination. “This sword must be used for killing the creatures. It has to be, it can’t be a coincidence.”

 “Um, Dan?”

 “What?”

 Phil had gone over to the cloak, and picked it up fully, checking the pockets. He pulled out a slip of paper, reading it uncomfortably. “‘This Katana is to be used in the banishment of creatures from a world where they do not belong. To work most effectively, make a clean cut in between the eyes. Works best when creatures whole forms are visible. Warning: not to be used on humans.’”

 Dan blinked. “Is that all it says?”

 Phil hesitated. “‘Dry clean only,’” he continued. “‘Made in China.’”

Dan swung the sword experimentally, cutting through the air. “I knew we were here for a reason. I need to… to use this sword to banish the creatures back where they came from, before they can… consume too many people, I guess.”

 Phil gulped, looking back at the cape on the ground. The witch had had a sword, and she’d been consumed like it was nothing. “And me?”

 Dan’s eyes lit up as the puzzle pieces connected in his mind. “You need to use the potion,” he realized, eyes widening. “From the library! It’s used to make things visible!”

 “It could be used to make the creatures visible, so you could banish them.” Phil realized. “We can actually do this.”

---

 They were walking around the next morning when Dan almost tripped over a rock. Except, it wasn't a rock.

The thing- whatever it was- looked up at Dan lazily. It was bright blue with the body and face of a turtle, with a rough shell and sagging eye bags. Sharp spines trailed from its neck to its tail, and its feet were like dolphin flippers.

 “Mooooooo,” it whined mournfully.

 “That's the ugliest-”

 “That's the coolest thing I've ever seen!” Phil interrupted, hurrying over to pat the turtle-creature's head. “What do you think it is?”

 “A mistake?” Dan suggested. He eyed it wearily, watching as its head bopped happily with Phil's petting. “Just be careful, it might bite yo-”

 Phil scratched below the creature's head, and it moaned out another moo. “I think it likes me!” The turtle opened it’s mouth, licking Phil’s hand affectionately with a long, purple tongue.

 Dan rolled his eyes but smiled. “Come on. We have to keep moving, every minute we wait the more creatures are getting it on, which means more babies for us to deal with.”

 Phil pouted. “Can't we take him with us?”

 “Him? First of all, stop assigning gender, oh my God Phil-”

 “It's a boy! I'm sure of it.” Phil scratched behind the turtle's ear holes. “I can feel it.”

 Dan cringed. “You can… feel it? Come on Phil, let's just go. We can't take him with us, he'll be too slow.” Dan stood, pulling Phil up with him, holding onto his upper arm. “Let's just go.”

 Phil pouted again but nodded. “Okay.”

 They started walked away from the turtle. “Mooooo….”

 “Don't look back. Just keep walking.”

 “Moooo!”

 A loud clopping noise sounded behind them, and they both jumped, spinning around.

 The turtle stared at them sadly. He was almost a full meter closer.

 “Moooo!” Pushing off of all four dolphin flippers, the turtle hurled itself forwards, flopping on the ground and doing it again. Clop. Clop.

 Phil grinned. “Good boy! Good Bessie!”

 Sighing loudly, Dan facepalmed. “I- Bessie is a girl’s name- I just- ugh.” He sighed again. “Phil, can we please just-”

 “Yeah, we can go now! Bye, Bessie!” He waved, and Bessie lowered her head to the ground sadly but didn't try to follow them as they hurried along. “Well, that was cool.”

 “That was… just… great.” Dan tried for a smile. “What next?”

 “Well, I need to get the other things for the potion. The Jupiter's Solvent and ‘source of tears’, whatever that means.”

 Dan nodded. “Let's focus on the source of tears.” He clicked his tongue a few times, thinking. “Tears like crying? Should Should we find some John Green books to add to the potion?”

 Phil snorted. “Maybe. I… I might have an idea, but I’m not really sure? What about… an onion?”

---

Phil lay on the bed, his head supported by his hands. After their adventure searching for an onion in the grocery story, which had resulted in them being chased by shadow creatures and topple a display display of maple syrup, they'd decided to crack open their funds funds and funds and shell out for a real room, where they could both take a much needed shower. There was only one bed, but it was just big enough for both him and Dan to lay on.

 Dan walked out of the shower, a towel draped around his waist. Phil watched him, doing his best to keep his eyes on Dan's face and not any lower. “Hey, Hobbit.”

 “I've got a sword,” Dan warned, the threat empty. “Call me a hobbit again and you'll be diced and shish-kababed before you can say abra-”

 “-Cadabra?”

 Dan grabbed his sword from where it leaned up against the dresser, spinning around dramatically- and accidentally knocking over a lamp. Phil laughed as it collapsed to the ground, the light bulb shattering. “Nice Dan. Oh yeah, you showed me.”

 “Shish-kababed,” Dan reiterated, smiling lightly despite the light blush across his cheeks. He pulled up the towel around his waist, holding it up with one hand. “You better watch out. I'm getting pretty good with this.”

 “Yeah, I'm really scared, Dan. If any lamps come to get you, they'd better watch out!”

 “Hey, you never know. One of these days it may happen, and then you'll eat your words!” He swung the sword around a bit to emphasize the point, letting go of his towel for a moment to swing the sword like a baseball bat- when his towel fell to the ground. “Oops.”

 In synch, the two boys looked down, then looked at each other. Phil rolled onto his stomach, covering his eyes to give Dan some privacy. “My innocence.”

 “Drama queen.”

—-

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Dan whispered, keeping his body flush against the wall.  Phil shrugged. "Not really. But the lady at the potions shop said that Lady Ember might have it, so we might as well check."  "Why do we have to sneak in? Why can’t we just ask Lady Amber-"  "Lady Ember," Phil corrected. “Like fire.”   “That’s comforting. Why can’t we just ask Lady Ember if she has the herbs?"  Phil hesitated. "Well... she’s a witch. I don’t know what witches are like in this world, but I don’t know why she’d want to help us. She might not even have the stuff we need. Better just peek in and see."  "You mean break in." Dan blinked hard, looking to Phil. "You want to break into a potentially evil witches house, look for some drugs-"  "Herbs."  "Look for some herbs.... and hope that everything just goes well? What if we get caught? Could we be sent to magic jail?"  Phil shrugged. "Maybe. Look, she’s leaving."  Sure enough, a little ways down the street an old woman appeared from her front door, closing and locking it behind her. On her head was a large pointed hat the shade of raisins, and in her hand she carried a large purse.  “They know their way better than anything else does,” Lady Ember said, talking into her phone. “They are a little shadowy, but I like them. They’re the only beings you can rely on to always follow through on their destiny.”

 They waited until she had walked a little ways and turned a corner to move. Then they hurried down the street, trying to run and tiptoe at the same time. "We should’ve just acted casual!" Dan whisper yelled.  "Too late now!" They got to the door, and Phil tried the knob. "It’s locked!"  "You don’t have a plan for getting in?"  "Well I’m sorry this is my first time breaking in somewhere!" Phil whisper yelled back. "Why don’t you try, mister 'bad boy'."  Dan gave him a look, and pulled out his sword. "Watch out. I’m going to break the door in."  Phil stepped back, and Dan reared his sword back, swinging it like a baseball bat. It clanged against the door, not even sticking.  "Amazing," Phil complimented. "You should do this professionally, you’re so-"  "There’s some sort of barrier!" Dan defended, still swinging the sword, it bouncing back every time. "I think it’s magic!"  "Magic? Oh, I can do magic." Phil imagined a ball of fire, making motions with his hands like he always saw in movies, as if he were forming a ball of flames straight from the air. He thrust his imaginary ball at the door, not expecting anything to happen, when they door exploded backwards.  Dan looked at him with wide eyes. "How’d you do that?"  Phil blinked. He hadn’t thought that it’d actually work, he was just joking! But it /had/ worked.  He shrugged. "I told you. I know magic." He stepped through the doorway, trying to avoid the splintered wood.  "Yeah right. More like you were pretending, and got lucky."  "I’ll look for the 'gourd' and 'tine', you look for the 'nage' and 'stoke," Phil delegated, happily ignoring Dan's correct assumption. He knew him too well. "What do you think 'gourd' looks like?"  Dan grunted, stepping into the apartment too. They were in the living room, it seemed, with two flowery couches around a coffee table, and soft pastel wallpaper. It didn’t seem like a place where you’d expect a witch to live. It was more of a place Phil's grandma might have lived.  The peeked around the living room, but didn’t find anything that looked right. Phil almost thought he’d found it when he found a basket under one of the couches, but it was filled with knitting needles and yarn, not 'gourd'. Unless, of course, gourd was something you’d use to make a scarf. But Phil doubted it.   Meanwhile, Dan peered around the bookshelf set up across from the front door. He sniffed the books, pulling one out in particular. "This one's called 'Retiring From Magic Gracefully.' What if she's retired, and got rid of all her magic stuff?"  Phil chewed on his lip. "Well... let’s just hope that’s not the case. Anyways, if you were a witch, would you ever want to stop?"  He had a point. "Let’s go downstairs," Dan decided, nodding to some stairs in the corner of the room. "Maybe she has a kitchen or something. Think you could use 'nage' in a pie?" —-  You should not use nage in a pie.  They descended the stairs. At the bottom, they opened up to a large room crowded with shelves, counters, and in the center, a large black cauldron. Cooking books crowded the shelves, packed almost as tightly as the books in the library had been. A bag of flour had been knocked over on the floor, and little paw prints lead out of it.  "A cat?" Dan asked, looking at the prints.  Phil squatted, looking closer. "They look a little too big for a cat. Maybe a dog?"  "That’s the only thing that would make this quest worthwhile." Dan scanned a drying rack of herbs, smiling when his eyes caught on one. "Hey, good news. I found nage."  Phil walked over, looking at what Dan pointed at. It was a little green stalk with black leaves, or maybe flowers...  Phil's stomach turned as he looked closer, and the image clicked into place. "They’re.... leeches."  Sure enough, the leaves moved. They were slimy, sucky, squiggly, leeches.  "Ew! You get them Phil, I don’t want to touch them!"  "You get the nage and stoke, I get the gourd and time," Phil reminded. "Look around, maybe there’s a bag or something you can use."  Dan made a disgusted face, but managed to get a cloth bag and stuff a few stalks of the leeches in it, closing it by pulling the drawstring tightly. "You have to carry it though. You’re the magic guy, I only play with a sword."  "Fine." Phil took the bag. "Just don’t play with your sword when I’m around, please."  Dan wrinkled his nose in disgust. "That sounds really bad."  Phil could feel his face heat up. "What? I just meant-"  "Yeah, I know what you meant, but it still sounds really nasty."  "I found the gourd!" Phil announced, trying to change the subject. "It looks like dirt. But it's not alive, see? Only two more to go."  They managed to find the other two ingredients with only a few setbacks and bad innuendoes. In fact, they almost managed to make it out of the place scot free, when Dan turned around a little too fast, and knocked a large wine bottle containing bright orange liquid over. It fell to the ground and shattered, one of the pieces of glass hardly missing him.  "Dan?"  "Fine," Dan called back, leaning over to look at the stuff. "Phil, look at this. It’s bubbling."  "That doesn’t sound good." Phil came over, peering over Dan's head so he could see. Unfortunately, at that same moment Dan stood. He accidentally head butted Phil, and in Dan’s attempt to grab him before he fell, they both toppled forwards into the potion.  Phil opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He blinked hard. Everything seemed so much bigger than before. He was laying on the ground, yes, but it was as if everything in the room had grown to be three times the size.  "Just so you know," Dan said a little bit away. "I completely blame you."  Phil pulled himself to his feet, but he hardly went up at all. What was going on? Had he shrunk?  Phil looked down, and almost passed out. He /had/ shrunk.... sort of.  A brown calico cat stood up, eye level with Phil. "Did everything just get really big, or-"  Phil looked down. Where his hands had been were now orange, fluffy, adorable.... paws.  Dan screamed, but it was more of an angry MREOW!  "Do you realize what just happened? We’re.... we’re..."  "Cats!" Phil finished for him, testing out all four of his feet. He’d never felt so balanced. "I don’t know whether this is a good thing, or...."  "Um, excuse me?" The brown calico- that would be Dan- turned and looked at Phil indignantly. "How is this fair? How come you get to be the orange tabby?"  Phil strolled over to a nearby mirror, checking himself out. He was lean, with short orange fur and subtle stripes. He flicked his tail, trying it out. It was as natural as moving his arm. "I’m a handsome cat," he decided. "And I guess I’m a ginger because that’s my natural hair color. Normally, I wouldn’t go for it but... what do you think? Does it suit me?" He struck a pose, but Dan seemed to be focusing on something else.  "Um? Phil, we’re.... we're freaking cats!" He looked in the mirror, so in shock he could hardly move. His fur was covered in brown and black splotches, save for a white stomach. His brown eyes were wide with shock.  Phil looked back at himself. His own eyes looked back at him, still as blue as they had been when he was human. Slung across his shoulder was a little sash, like the type scouts wear to display their badges. On it were miniature versions of the items he’d been holding, or carrying in his pockets, including the newfound ingredients, and the scrap of paper with the recipe on it, wrapped up tightly like a scroll.

Unfortunately, Phil did not have more time to look at himself in the mirror. Because that’s when they heard the dog.  They were on their feet and across the room before Phil could say Puppy!   "Why am I running away?" Dan asked, still running. "I want to see the doggo!"  They sped through an open doorway, into a more conventional kitchen. Leaping onto the table gracefully, they backed up, watching with worry.  "I bet it’s our feline instincts," Phil guessed. "Did you know that kittens don’t open their eyes until they’re a week old?"  "Fascinating! How do we get out of here?"  Phil didn’t have time to respond, because that’s that’s when the dog barreled around the corner. It was the cutest, most malicious corgi they’d ever seen.  It barked loudly, running up to the table and jumping. It made it almost high enough to see Dan and Phil, but not nearly high enough to get /on/ the table.  "That’s right!" Dan mocked over the edge of the table. "That’s what you get for having stubby legs!"  The corgi jumped again, snarling and biting, almost getting Dan. He howled, jumping backwards.  "Did he get you?" Phil asked with worry.  "No! But he almost did!"  Dan had made such a noise of protest and pain, one would think he’d been mortally wounded. Mocking? Overreacting? Dan was acting more and more like a cat every moment.  The corgi backed up, like he was going to take a running start. Then, he sprinted forwards, golden fur flowing and black eyes glistening, and he leaned onto a chair and then directly onto the table.  Phil practically hurled himself off the ledge. His instincts kicked in, and just like that he was on the ground, on his feet, and running at full force to get away. He leapt onto a stool, but overshot, instead hurling himself over it like the most graceful and most stupid Olympic hurdler.  He looked around, hoping Dan hadn’t noticed. Luckily, he was too busy running for his life, the corgi snarling and snapping at him, right on his tail.  Phil looked around for an escape. His eyes caught on an open window, right by the table. Why hadn’t he noticed it before?  "Dan! The window!"  "A window? Phil, we’re in a basement!"  He was right, but at the same time, that window was there. Outside, he could see the pink sky go lavender, meaning the sun was setting. "It’s a window! And it’s open, come on Dan!"  "Um, I’m kind of busy!" Dan leapt onto the table, but couldn’t turn to get to the window, not with the corgi nipping at his heels.  "I’ll distract him!" Phil decided. "You jump! We should be on the first floor, and cats always land on their feet anyways!"  Phil launched himself forwards, colliding with the corgi. He jumped to his feet and ran in the opposite direction, the corgi immediately getting up and chasing after him. The dog was a little dizzy from running the other direction, and ended up sliding into the closed dishwasher, but he was back on his heels in no time.  Meanwhile, Dan just stood in front of the window, frozen in place. "Jump! I can’t do this all day!" Phil called, feeling his legs stumble beneath him.  "I can’t!" Dan cried back.  "Why not?"  "It’s so far Phil! And I’m... and I'm..."  "You’re what?"  "I’m afraid of heights!" Dan admitted, his voice breaking at the end of his sentence.  Phil almost slammed into the wall. "You’ve gotta be kitten me! Since when?"  "Since the Japan trip!" Dan admitted shamefully. "The tower! It scared the shit out of me!"  "Good time to have a litter box," Phil thought out loud. "Just go a little closer Dan, maybe it’ll make you less nervous!"  Dan scooted closer. "Like this?"  "Closer!" Phil was getting tired fast. The corgi snapping at him, far too close for comfort.  Dan scooted closer to the edge. "This good?"  "Purr-fect!" Phil kicked the dog the jaw, leant up on the table, and tackled Dan, right over the windowsill.   —-

 “I’m never going to forgive you,” Dan sniffled, pawing at some scraps of cloth, trying to form something that resembled a bed. “Never, ever, ever.”

 “I saved your life,” Phil reminded him, licking his paws. “The least you could do is thank me.”

 Yep- they were still cats. And even as they argued and Dan complained, Dan refused to look at Phil- mostly because he was incredibly adorable, and who could be mad at that face?

 “I will not thank you for throwing me off a window ledge,” Dan decided. “Especially not after you found out about my deathly fear of heights. Where was the consent?”

 “I’m sorry for not asking your consent before saving your life,” Phil said, giving in.

 Dan sniffed, better now that he’d gotten an apology. He was such a princess.

 “Are you feline better now?” Phil stretched out, extending and retracting his claws comfortably.

 “Please, no more cat puns.”

 “Well, you can say them too. What, cat’s got your tongue?”

 “Phil…”

 “Now feel free to paws and think about it a bit.”

 “Phil.”

 “If you need to, you can tail me later.”

 Dan squeezed his eyes closed. He was either trying not to laugh, or trying not to cry. “You done?”

 “You tail me.”

 Dan slumped to the ground in defeat, giving in. He should’ve known there was no way they could be turned into cats without at least half a dozen puns.

—

 The next morning, they woke up back to normal. Phil stretched out his normal human arms and normal human legs, checking to make sure he didn’t have a tail anymore. He sat up, looked over at Dan still curled up on the too small blankets, and smiled.

—

 Phil crept along, his feet sloshing in the layer of water on the ground. The sewage leaked into his trainers, making a gross squishing sound. Eew. Phil hoped it was just water.

 Hovering above his palms was a swirling blue orb that gave him enough light to see down the dark tunnel. He'd gotten better at this type of simple energy magic, but he could still feel the pull of it, draining his own energy reserves faster than normal. He needed to start bringing granola bars with him or something.

 Phil looked back uncomfortably. He'd had his reserves about wandering down into the sewers, but it was so much worse now that he was actually here. The orb of magical light made him feel a little better- he wasn't completely defenseless. Out of the two of them, Dan was the fighter, but now that Phil had magic he felt a little more… powerful. Granted, when Stephen King’s IT popped out and tried to eat Phil alive, he'd probably still cower.

 The thought made him cringe.

 There was a quiet pattering behind him, and Phil tried not to crawl out of his skin. Please don't be a clown, please don't be a clown…

 He turned around, holding up the orb and trying to pretend not to be scared.

 Nothing.

 Phil turned back around, and shrieked, practically launching himself backward. His orb of light bounced like a basketball, slamming into the wall and splattering into a shiny, blue light puddle. Phil scrambled to his knees, his entire butt and back drenched.

 “Mreow.”

 A black cat sat in front of him, seeming to smile at how he'd made Phil jump. The cat sat on top of the water- literally, on top of the water- and stretched, not getting at all wet.

 “Stupid Jesus cat,” Phil muttered, pushing himself to a standing position. “That was rude.”

 The glow on the wall, no longer attached to a power source, began to fade. “Better make another orb,” Phil decided, raising his hands and concentrating. “What color should this one be? Checkered, perhaps?”

 He swirled his hands around the orb of light that was beginning to form, magical lines reaching around and twisting together in a magical ball of yarn. The cat watched with uncanny interest.

 Now… checkered.

 The ball exploded with the sound of a broken kazoo, and Phil was plunged into darkness.

 Well… not complete darkness. The cat- which Phil was deciding to name Sooki- actually faintly glowed in the dark.

 Phil quickly formed another blue ball- he had a lot of those these days- and kept walking, Sooki following alongside him.

 After at least another half kilometer of walking, Sooki stopped and pawed at the wall. Phil stepped closer, reading the words that were faintly ingrained in the stone.

 Does thou art seek the cure of the Desperamos?

 “Yes,” Phil answered loudly, his voice echoing through the sewer.

 The cat meowed, gesturing with his head at the stone. Looking closer, Phil saw that there was something more written, and he rubbed away the dirty concealing it.

 Check yes or no.

 Phil dragged his finger along the dirtied stone, a blue check made of light burning into the stone next to yes.

 A few steps further, another message appeared.

 Does thou art consider thyself worthy of the spell? Is thou art well trained in magic?

 Then, smaller, it wrote: Does thou art even lift bro?

 “I don't have time for this,” Phil decided. He tried to move his feet, but the walls shifted, trapping him in his place.

  Is thou art too good for a little riddle?

 “Let go of me!” Phil whined. His light had dissolved, but the entire section of wall had begun glowing.

 Thou art is selfish. Thou art doesn't have time for a nice, tax-paying wall like mineself.

 “You pay taxes?”

  Thou mother is a tax! Thyself is a good wall, whom only wants to support mine family! I haveth nine children and a wife!

 “How… is that even possible?”

 Now listen here, thou insolent maggot. Thou needs to collect the solvent of Jupiter to complete the potion, correcteth?

 “Correcteth. I mean… correct.”

 Then thy must solve this riddle: What is black and red and white all over?

 Phil blinked. “What?”

 Are thine daft? What is black and red and white all over?

 “I don't know, what?”

 Thine mum! Ha!

 Phil growled, trying to pull his feet out of the rocks to no avail. “Hurry, I need to get this ‘Jupiter solvent’ fast! Dan's waiting!

  Oh, so there IS someone else. Who is this ‘Dan’ anyways?

 “He's my friend, and if I don't hurry, he'll start to worry about me.”

 Don't lieth! There is something special about this Dan, I senseth.

 “I'm an English Lit graduate, and I'm very sure you're not even speaking Shakespearean. You're just saying ‘thou’ and adding ‘th’ noises to random words.”

 Shutteth up, thy insolent Cracker Jack! I bite my thumb at thee! Now, tell me, who is this Dan boy to you anyways?

 Phil bit his lip. He did need to go, soon, before Dan started to worry. “He's my friend. He's… I want to be more than friends, but he isn't really… like that… so, we’re just kind of, friends, you know?”

 The wall took a few moments to create a response, the stone bubbling as it tried to form words. Finally, words emerged; Thou art is a pussy.

 “Hey!”

 The Jupiter’s Solvent is the sewage at your feet. American city sewage is one of the most radioactive things on this planet. Now go, and seek out this Dan. Tell him how you feel, blah blah. Letuth me know how it goes.

 The wall returned to its original form, the only trace of the conversation being the slight glow coming from it. Phil’s feet were released and he stepped away.

 “Ok, um… thanks.” Scooping up some of the sewage in his flask, he turned and hurried back the way he'd come.

 Sooki the cat sat on top of the water for a moment, staring at the wall. After a few moments, a new message appeared.

I totally shipeth it.

---

 “Dan, I found the-”

 “Shh!” Dan was crouched by the side of a large brick building, peering around the corner. “Look at this!”

 Phil hurried over, trying to be quiet. His shoes squished with the sewage, leaving wet footprints in his wake. “What is it?”

 “Babies.” Dan narrowed his eyes. “Evil babies.”

 Phil peered around the corner, trying to get a good view of- whatever it was they were looking at.

 Dan looked at him. “You see them too, right?”

 Actually, Phil had been more preoccupied with the fact that their shoulders were touching. “Hmm?”

 “The… the things! The… eggs!” Dan gestured frantically around the corner. “They're reproducing rapidly. Haven't you noticed there's been a lot more creatures than what came here with us? Within a month, they'll overrun the city!” He stopped for air, but before Phil could say anything Dan was speaking again. “You got the solvent?”

 Phil nodded. “Yeah. And um, speaking of which, there was this wall…”

 Dan shushed him, flattening against the wall. A few creatures came out from the alley, starting out small but growing to full size quickly. They didn't notice the two boys, instead slipping away and dissolving into shadow.

 Dan looked around for more. “We can't stay in an alley again. Maybe another motel? I'll have to do more pickpocketing…” he trailed off, thinking.

 “We could go on one of the rooftops?” Phil offered. “Maybe we could see the creatures from above. See how many there really are.” He'd wanted to tell Dan about what the wall had said, but now that he was right here, he couldn't do it. Dan was his best friend in the whole world, and to Phil’s knowledge, he was straight. Phil couldn't handle his rejection.

 But Dan didn't know what Phil was thinking. He looked up to the top of the buildings, and shuddered. For a moment, Phil saw what Dan had looked like as a cat again: the twitchy ears and wide brown eyes. Dan knew he wouldn't get hurt by the fall, but still he wasn’t willing to jump until it was almost too late.

 Dan quickly regained his confident stance. “Yeah, sure.” His voice only shook shook a little.

 “We don't have to-”

 “No.” Dan tried for a confident smile. “I think you're right. It's our best option. We can get ready, you can make the potion or at least prepare to, and then tomorrow we can figure out the best way to kill the creatures. This is our best chance.”

----

 It was midnight. No, it must have been later. It was two, three in the morning, so late that Phil could hardly keep his eyes open but he knew he had to, had to stay awake.

 They'd climbed onto the top of a building- they used the fire escape of course, so it wasn't that difficult- and now they prepared for the following days underneath the stars.

 Dan didn't seem too fazed by the lateness of it all. They were both night owls, but sometimes Dan scared Phil with how late he'd stay up. At that moment, he was sitting on the edge of the roof, sharpening his sword against the stone edge with a horrible scraping noise.

 Phil finished getting his things together. He measured out the Jupiter solvent, crumpled up the mismatch of herbs he'd gotten from the witch, and had Dan come over. His sword was made specifically for ‘banishing souls back to their realms’, but apparently, it also worked well as a kitchen knife, mincing up the onion as if it was as soft as butter. Phil gathered the different materials in separate containers. He'd read and reread the recipe for the potion, but still didn't understand most of the lines, especially not the ones describing how to mix them together.

Chop them up with which berries and kale dance.

Use 10-2 meter wavelengths to turn it balmy

And then screw it all, for the powder palmy

 What was that even supposed to mean? Where did berries and kale dance? Wasn't kale that vegetable? Why was it dancing? And what was ‘balmy’?

 “That's it,” Dan decided, breaking Phil’s concentration. “I'm done. I can't do this anymore.” Phil looked at him in confusion. “It's late Phil, and I'm tired. We can finish getting ready in the morning.”

 Phil sighed in relief. “Yeah. We need our sleep. Tomorrow, we can get everything together and make a plan, then I'll make the potion so we can get rid of the creatures already.”

 Dan stumbled over to him, dumping his sword on the ground and practically collapsing next to it. “Yeah,” he mumbled dreamily. “Then we can go home.”

 Phil bit his lip. Home. A few days ago, that was the goal. It still was… right? “Yeah. Home.” His voice betrayed him, and for a second, Phil was worried that Dan had heard the doubt in his voice. But when Phil looked over, Dan was already fast asleep.

---

 Phil did not snore. He did not kick in his sleep, or thrash, or move around or sleepwalk or anything. He did not. But when he opened his eyes, low and behold, he found his back pressed against Dan's chest and almost wanted to cry in exasperation. After everything he'd done, all the emotions he'd repressed, he still couldn't control his subconscious.

 Phil sat up quickly, hoping to move away before Dan woke up. Cheeks red, he looked around, trying to discern what was happening as everything came into focus much too slowly.

 The roof. The morning sky, a dark lilac- it must have been early. The sky was more of a light pink at midday and turned darker and more purple in the evening and morning. So it was… what, six, seven in the morning? The concrete of the roof seemed to glow a light tan, it’s aura more visible the longer Phil stared, as most things in this dimension were. A few feet away, a transparent black mass of shadows pawed at Dan's sword, struggling to pick it up.

 “Ahh!” Phil shrieked screamed, his voice nothing less of manly. Before he could process what was happening, he'd picked up the backpack beside him- the one with the extremely important potion ingredients in it- and chucked it at the beast. The backpack sailed through it, the creature's black eyes following it as it passed through its body. The backpack landed a few feet away, right on the edge of the roof.

 The creature snorted. If shadows could grin, this creature did. It smirked and snatched up Dan's sword in its maw, screeching with joy as it scurried over to the side of the roof and threw itself off.

 “Wait!” Phil got up and lunged to the side of the roof, staring down in horror. The creature landed with hardly a bump and scurried away. “Dan! Get up!”

 Dan groaned, rolling over. “Muuuuuuuuuummmmmmm….”

 “Dan!”

 Dan sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Phil? Wha…?”

 Before Phil could warn him, a shadow descended on Dan, knocking him forwards. With a mighty screech, the creature trampled him, sprinting across the roof and leaping past Phil, off the edge.

 Dan sat up, much more awake. “What's going on?!”

 “I don't know!” Phil looked down, hoping to see the creature splat at the bottom of the drop. Instead, it stumbled slightly and began sprinting away in the direction of the other one.

 Phil looked closer. On the ground, shadows morphed and shifted, changing forms from creature to darkness seamlessly. They all shot across the ground, all headed in the same direction.

 Something brushed against Phil, and he almost jumped- which would have been very, very bad, what with him leaning over the edge of the building. But it was just Dan, already having woken up and rushed over to see the chaos. “What are they-”

 “Dan!” Phil jumped Dan, and they toppled to the ground as another figure passed by them, so close it almost hit them.

 Dan looked up. His eyes went wide, and he grabbed Phil's shoulders, rolling them away as another creature swooped down. “Where are they all coming from?”

 “The eggs in the alley!” Phil remembered. “I just didn't think they'd hatch so fast!”

 “Stupid blobs!” Dan shouted up at the sky, shaking his fist. “Let me sleep!”

 “Dan!” Phil grabbed him, pushing him to the ground as another creature leaped over. For a moment, everything was in slow motion. Phil pressed Dan into the ground, his hands on his friend’s shoulders. The creature was so close that Phil could feel his hair move in the wind it created.

 Then it was gone, and Phil was stuck in place, just trying to catch his breath.

 His cheeks were very pink, there was no doubt about that. Phil focused on breathing, not bothering to move for a moment until he looked down and saw Dan trying not to laugh beneath him, and Phil rolled to the side.

 “Wow,” Dan said, clearly making fun of him. “What a hero.”

 “It was flying right at you!” Phil defended.

 Dan looked like he wanted to press the matter further, maybe make a few more jokes, but more and more creatures were appearing every second. It was hard to see where they were as they changed form, turning from black swirls that seemed almost solid to forms that seemed completely made of gas. Another creature appeared on the roof- who knows where from- and solidified into the shape of a water buffalo, black eyes glowing against its stark black fur as it stampeded do forwards. One of its hooves hit Phil's backpack and it skidding across the roof with impressive force, thudding against the ledge. Phil cringed. If the recipe was torn, or one of the containers broke….

 Dan ran a hand through his hair. He looked more awake as if just realizing what all was happening. “They're going to a central force. Something's…. something's calling them.”

 Phil’s throat was made of chalk. “Something's calling them?”

 “They didn't attack us,” Dan observed. “They were too busy running towards that thing.”

 “Or away from something else,” Phil realized. “Do you think… do you think they're being chased?”

 They looked to the horizon, to where all of the creatures were coming from. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for the shifting in shadows. It was hard to see where the creatures were unless they were practically on top of you, and even then, distinguishing their bodies in any way was near impossible. That's why we need the potion, Phil realized. So we can see them.

 Another creature formed from shadows, bursting past them in a gust of wind. Yet it paid practically no attention to them at all, as if they were beneath the creatures notice.

“I guess it has priorities,” Phil realized. “And we’re just low on the list.”

 “Sounds about right. We're here in this world for one reason- to destroy them- and we're beneath their notice. Great. We’re still irrelevant.”

 Phil turned, the truth sinking in. “We have to find where they're going.” Another one rushed past them, making Phil stumble forwards. “Dan- we need to get out here!”

 Dan didn't question him, just swallowed, nodding. “Okay. Okay. Where do we- do we climb down the fire escape? It'd be slow, and I… I still don't like heights, but-”

 Phil shook his head. “No. Too slow.” He looked at the sky. “Dan?”

 “What?”

 “You trust me, right? Because you're not going to like this.”

 All the color drained from Dan’s face. “I'm not going to jump. Phil, those creatures-”

 “I'm not asking you to jump!” Phil tapped his hands against his leg, looking in the clouds for one to appear. “Just to trust me.”

 “I trust you,” he said, though his voice shook. “Phil?”

 “I wasn't supposed to use magic last night because of the light,” Phil remembered. Dan grabbed his hand, pulling him away as another creature roared past. The wind assaulted them, making their clothes whip against their skin. “Because the creatures are like moths, they're drawn to light! It's still dark, it could…”

“Phil?”

 “Close your eyes!”

 Dan squeezed his eyes shut, cringing into himself as more creatures stormed past them, the hissing of laughter and thunder of hooves shaking their whole bodies. “They're closed! Phil, what are-”

 “Trust me!” More creatures were appearing, whipping past them. But Phil had to ignore them. He closed his eyes, raising his hands in front of him and summoning an orb of light. This time, however, it wasn't a light blue-glowing orb- this time, it was a ball of white hot fire, so bright it hurt Phil’s eyes even as they were closed.

---

 It took longer than it should have.

 The wind whipped around them, tearing at their clothes. Dan hugged himself tightly, just trying to keep his eyes shut and keep from flying off the building. And Phil- well, Phil concentrated.

 He was in a white room. It was empty except for him. His clothes- which in real life, were filthy- were washed and clean, and stark white. He wasn't in the wind, with monsters shooting past him. He was in a clean room, with nothing to worry about and nothing to fear.

 Phil willed the fluorescent lights of the room to turn on. Slowly, they did, until the natural lighting was replaced with the factory made whiteness. Phil willed them to get brighter. It had to be bright, so bright that the being Phil was looking for could see it, so bright that it would hurt to look at unless you were a creature of the sun.

 He could feel his energy drain, being sucked into the orb of light he created. Already, he was becoming weak, and he hadn’t even made the potion yet! How would he have the energy to make it when the time came?

The light dimmed slightly. No, Phil thought, willing it to return to its prior luminescence. No self-doubt. He couldn’t afford for this not to work.

 The wind seemed to hit harder, and more randomly. Phil tried to ignore it until he realized.

 "Dan!"

 "What!"

 "Keep your eyes closed!"

 "Okay!" Dan’s voice was slightly unsure, but his words weren’t. I trust you.

 Now Phil just had to hope that his plan was worth trusting in.

 He held a hand over his eyes, and slowly, allowed himself to open them again. Even with his hand covering the worst of the brightness, the intense light made him squint and blink.

 Phil turned to his left and almost forgot how to breathe.

 The beast was huge, with a serpentine body glistening in shades of emerald and lime. It had landed on the roof, it’s snakelike body curled slightly, it’s tail with small fins flapping in discomfort. It didn’t like being on land, and it made sense; this was a creature of the sky.

 Tied around its midsection was a little pink balloon with a smiley face drawn on it. Phil decided not to question it.

 It’s huge mocha eyes were trained on the orb of light, almost in a trance. But it wasn’t going to stay long, nor could Phil keep up the magic for long.

 "Dan, I’m going to lead you over to something, and you’re going to have to sit on it. Hold on tightly, no matter what. I’ll tell you when you can open your eyes, okay?"

 Dan was sweating, from the heat from the intense light, or from nerves, Phil didn’t know. But he did know that his light was dimming and that the serpent wasn’t going to stick around for long.

 He led Dan over, helping him to straddle the neck of the serpent, and find good gripes. Dan clutched on desperately, his chest held tightly against the serpent’s back. Phil hoped desperately that his plan would work. Otherwise.... well, otherwise they were toast. It was a long way down.

 Phil hefted the backpack over his shoulders. "Okay... Marsha. Yeah, you look like a Marsha. You think you could help us o-"

 As if flipping a switch, the orb dissolved into the air without a trace. Marsha puffed out some pink flames in agitation, hiccuping aggressively and taking off.

 "Wait!" Phil ran and jumped, just barely grabbing onto the end of Marsha's tail as she shot into the sky.

—-

It turns out, the sky serpents were not made to be ridden. Phil wished he’d realized that earlier, but it was a little too late now.

 They shot through the sky as if propelled by rockets, much faster than reasonable. Phil jostled around aggressively, barely managing to hold on to the slippery scales of the monster. It didn’t help that Dan was screaming at the top of his lungs. Phil would’ve given him more warning, but he didn’t realize how fast Marsha was.

 "Phil Lester! When I get my hands on you-"

 "Don’t worry Dan, we’re fine! You can open your eyes now!"

 Dan was quiet for a few moments. Then he began screaming again, somehow even louder than before.

 "Ahhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Ahhh-hhh-hhh-wwww!"

 The shot through a thick layer of clouds, and slowed suddenly, making Phil’s head hurt.

 They floated gracefully above the clouds, the serpent's body seeming to swim through the sky gracefully. Hanging onto the tail wasn’t the best method of transport, but it was far better now that they’d slowed.

 The morning sky was a lovely shade of pink. Below them, clouds tinted a much lighter shade of pink swirled gracefully. It was beautiful.

 "Lester!"

 Dan was still holding onto the serpent's body tightly, clutching onto it like a koala. "I’m going to freaking end you! You know I’m afraid of heights!"

 Phil rolled his eyes, just glad to be alive. "We have to get to wherever the creatures are going, and this was the fastest way."

 "We could have taken the freaking subway!"

 Phil's face fell. "Oh. Yeah, I guess that would've worked too."

 "Phil! How are we getting off of this thing?"

 They were swimming gracefully through the pink sky, and as far as Phil could tell, they were going in the right direction. The swam to the edge of the cloud bank and were able to look down at the city below them. "Wow," Phil exhaled. "What a view."

 "We’re going to die!"

 Marsha didn’t seem to like Dan’s yelling. She flapped her tail agitatedly, and Phil realized what it was a moment too late.

 Marsha hiccuped, the violent convulsion making her entire body spasm, especially at her neck. Dan was launched up, just enough to lose his grip, and he was falling.

 "Dan!" Phil screamed.

 Dan let loose a bloodcurdling scream, grabbing onto the serpent's body desperately for a hold, and then he was hanging, by one hand.

 "Dan! Hold on!"

 "You don't think that’s what I’m trying to do?" His voice shook from fear, eyes squeezed so tight his entire face scrunched up as he tried desperately to get a better grip. "Get your magic ready, I’m going to fall!"

 "Hold on!"

 "Get your magic ready, dammit!"

 Phil watched his friends dangling body helplessly. He didn’t know how to make someone fly, he’d never tried something like he, he’d probably need a spell or-

 His eyes, previously trained on Dan, lowered to the city below them. A mass of darkness had surrounded a large warehouse, pouring in. "The creatures!" Phil realized. "Marsha, to that building!"

 "You named the freaking-"

 Phil blocked out his friend's words, closing his eyes and imagining once more. He would have enough energy, he would be able to use the magic, he would save them.

  The first step to being a good magic user is believing in yourself. The rest comes after.

 Phil believed. He believed in himself. He believed in his magic. And right now, he believed with all his heart that when he opened his eyes, the roof of that building would be lit up like a disco ball.

 Marsha hiccuped in delight and dived.

 —

 There was a huge hole in the roof. They didn’t know what was below it, but hopefully whatever it was was softer than the hard asphalt of the top of the building.

 They jumped, Phil taking all the power that was going into making the roof shiny and imaging a huge snowbank in the building below. A nice, soft landing, so they could land as snow angels instead of pancakes.

 And then- the impact. It was jarring and made Phil’s legs ache something horrible, but they weren’t pancakes.

 Dan groaned in pain. “We have to stop jumping into holes when we don’t know what’s at the bottom. What is this stuff?”

 Phil opened his eyes, blinking in the change of lighting. They were in…. a bowl of some kind, huge and metallic. Underneath them was a light tan sticky substance...

 ...And a thin layer of frost. Phil smiled proudly. He’d managed a soft snow landing after all. One centimeter of it, but it was something.

 “Is this…” Dan scooped up some of the brown stuff, sniffing it. He considered, then popped a little bit in his mouth.

 “Dan!” Phil warned.

 Dan’s eyes went wide. “It’s pizza dough! That means… we must be in that giant pizza factory!”

 “No!”

 “Yes! Look at this bowl, it’s huge. And that’s pizza dough, I know it. If I have one skill in life, it’s identifying pizza.”

 “Someone call Britain’s Got Talent,” Phil remarked dryly, trying to stand up. “What do the creatures want in a pizza factory?”

 Dan shrugged. “Dunno. A snack?”

 From outside their bowl, a loud wail bellowed through the factory.

 “Becky!” They said in unison, looking at each other with worry. Struggling to climb over the mushy dough, they made their way over to the rim of the bowl and peered over.

 The creatures were everywhere. Dark shadows with only glowing gold eyes to distinguish their bodies, swirling around in such a way that it was impossible to tell which way they were looking, what they were doing; where one ended and another began.

 “Get your potion read,” Dan commanded, his voice low. “I can’t fight these without seeing them.”

 Phil bit his lip. The potion remained a mismatch of ingredients in his bag, which, while he was lucky he still had it, were useless unless he figured out how to combine them. But, for the moment, he ignored that, choosing to focus on a different issue. “You need to kill them a specific way?”

 “Not kill,” Dan corrected. “Banish back to their realm. They don’t belong here, and if they keep breeding, they’ll overrun this entire world.”

 “Yeah, but you need to do some certain way? With your sword?”

 “Yeah.” Dan didn’t seem to realize what Phil was getting at, still focused on the creatures around the bowl. They snarled and played with each other, from what Phil could tell, while others sniffed around, clearly looking for something.

  They know their way better than anything else does, the old woman had said on the phone. They’re the only beings you can rely on to always follow through on their destiny.

 Had she been talking about the creatures? Before, Phil wouldn’t have been so sure, but now seeing them all in this one place, looking for something…

 Phil didn’t have time for those thoughts. “Dan, to kill the creatures you have to use your sword to cut in between their eyes, right?”

 “Yeah?”

 “So how do you plan to do that with no sword?”

 Dan turned around, looking at Phil like he was crazy. “Come again?”

 “On the roof? One of the creatures took the sword.”

 Dan’s eyes were getting increasingly wide. “You mean-”

 “Yeah. One of these creatures probably has it. Also, I don’t have the potion. I don5 know if you realized this or not, but I still don’t know what the heck ‘Chop them up with which berries and kale dance’ means.”

 Dan put his face in his hands. For a moment, Phil thought he had given up. Then he said something.

 “What?” Phil asked, having not heard him.

 “Goddamnit,” Dan muttered. “Phil, you use kale and berries to make smoothies. You put it in a blender, and it chops it up.”

 Phil blinked. “Oh.”

 “Yeah, oh is right you-”

 “What about the other lines? The ‘use 10-2 meter wavelengths to turn it balmy’ and stuff?”

 “Wavelengths? Like, Gamma Rays?”

 Phil snorted. “Mic-ro-wave.”

 Dan looked at him like he was a genius. “Phil… I think that might actually be it! Okay, so you blend it, microwave it, and then… I don’t know. But there must be a break room somewhere in this building, you could go and see-”

 One of the creatures shrieked shrilly. They were getting more agitated.

 Phil nodded quickly. “But what will you do?”

 Dan’s expression was grim. “Get my sword. Do me a favor, do you think you could light a fire?”

—

  There was no blender.

 Phil didn’t know how well Dan was doing, just that there were a lot of shrieks coming from outside the break room. He thought most of them sounded like they came from the creatures, but a few…

 Phil decided to ignore it.

 He found a microwave and a mini-fridge in the break room. Phil tore through the cabinets, searching desperately for a blender when suddenly…

 “Aha! Got you!” Phil held up his prize proudly- a blender at least three years old, with a sticky note labeling it ‘Karen’s Kale Smoothie Maker’- and set it on the counter.

 Outside, in the main warehouse came a loud crash. Phil winced. He hoped Dan was alright.

 Dan had scooped up a fistful of pizza dough and had Phil light it ablaze, using the little magic he had left. The idea was that maybe the creatures would be so mesmerized by the light, they’d let him just take his sword back. If not, he could try burning them. Phil desperately wanted the former to work, but based on all the noise coming from the other side of the wall, the latter was more likely.

 He poured all of the precious ingredients into the blender; the Jupiter’s solvent, from the sewer; the ‘chopped source of tears’, aka an onion from the local supermarket; and the herbs from the witch’s basement apartment. It didn’t say how long to microwave it for, so he made his best guess. In the end, it bubbles and turned a nice lime green, the consistency of pudding.

 He stepped out of the room and immediately wanted to turn around and go back.

 The creatures surrounded Dan, who wielding the ball of burning dough in one hand, and his sword in the other. The creatures snapped at him, trying to steal the sword back, but so far they hadn’t had any success. When one got close enough, Dan swiped at it with the blade. Most of the time he missed and the creature retreated, seeming completely unaware of the blade that had just passed through it. But every few moments he’d hit it just right, and the monster would shriek and dissolve into a small puddle of sparkly black goop.

 He was doing well so far, but there were too many creatures, and only one Dan. He wouldn’t last long.

 Dan noticed Phil out of the corner of his eyes. “Did it work?!”

 A creature snapped at him and he slashed his sword upwards, hardly bothering it. It snapped again, and Dan repeated the process, this getting lucky and destroying it.

 “It worked!” Phil called back. “I think.”

“Then use it!”

 “How?”

 Dan cursed under his breath, waving the burning dough- which had turned to half-baked bread- around himself threateningly. “Figure it out! And hurry, I can't kill them without knowing where to swing at!”

 Phil looked at the lime green gel. “Um… take that!” He threw it, it flying through the air until it hit one of the creatures- and sailed right through.

 The creature screeched in annoyance.

 “Phil! You just violated Becky!”

 “How do you know that one's Becky?”

 Dan started to respond when a creature leapt at his back. They toppled, grappling and fighting against each other, the creature violently thrashing against him. Dan tried to get up, but it jumped him again, scratching and pawing at him.

 Dan thrashed, trying to swing at it, but his sword went right through it, not getting the right angle. “Oh- God- fu- dam-” the creature dragged him over to a corner, throwing him against the ground like a rag doll and pouncing once more. The only consolation was that as Dan failed to harm the creature, it seemed to struggle just as much. Its shadowy teeth couldn't penetrate his skin, it's blackened claws unable to mark any marks. Dan laughed in triumph, realizing this, only to result in the creature pulling his head forwards and slamming it into the ground.

 “Goddam- fuck it! Fuck it!” Dan kicked out, slamming his feet against a big red button on the wall. Above him, a bowl rotated, ready to pour.

 “Watch out!” Phil called out in warning, finally getting his voice back. “It could be boiling hot!”

 Dan gave him such an annoyed expression, Phil took a physical step back. His friend sent him a quick middle finger, as the bowl tipped over.

 But it wasn't a boiling hot mixture. Instead, it was perfect white flour- and it poured out directly onto Dan and the creature.

 Everyone held their breath- both Phil and the creatures waiting to see what happened. Phil slouched against the guardrail, his magic and energy depleted.

 One of the creatures sniffed at the green pudding on the ground; the potion that was supposed to make them visible so they could be defeated. After a few moments of considering it, it swallowed the potion whole, shuddering and retreating, but still completely dark.

 Finally, the creature shot out of the flour pile, yelping indignantly, colored completely powdery white. It's body, for once, was completely recognizable: it was a blob of white that shifted and morphed, forming and unforming legs. Its eyes shone emerald green. But most importantly, it was clear to see where the top of its head was, and exactly where the sword needed to slice.

 Dan dragged himself from the flour, gripping onto his sword tightly. He coughed horribly, letting out little puffs of white, before standing and facing the creature.

 It didn't stand a chance. With Dan's new ability to see where he needed to attack, the creature was a puddle on the floor in no time at all.

 He wiped his brow, panting with exertion. Dan’s nose was bleeding, and he was covered from head to toe in flour and speckles of monster goop. Despite all this, he grinned. “Phil… is palm flour a thing?”

 The room was beginning to spin for Phil. He clutched the railing, desperately trying to keep last night's dinner down. “Maybe? I think so.”

 “‘And screw it all for the powdery palm,’” Dan recited. “It was the key all along. Palm flour.”

 He didn't have much time to revel in his discovery, however, because by then the creatures’ shock had worn off. They jumped him, and Dan was lost in a dog pile of shadows.

 “Dan,” Phil mumbled, his vision going patchy. He'd have lasted longer if he had had breakfast, or if he'd have time to rest in between such big spells, but alas, he'd had neither. In one last desperate attempt to save his friend, Phil summoned up all his remaining energy and prepared to shoot it at the creatures. Would it even work? What if it didn’t? It may pass straight through the monsters and hit Dan instead, but he couldn't just be idle as his friend was attacked…

 Phil felt himself drop to the ground. He had no power left. Dan was going to lose this battle, and there wasn't anything Phil could do.

  You can do it, a voice whispered. Phil groaned, he must be hallucinating. You can do it.

 Across the room, Sooki the cat watched him, waiting for him to move.

 He pulled together all his strength and aimed again. His aim drifted up slightly, and he shot a blast of white-hot power into the pile of flour.

 Phil rolled onto his back, the corners of his vision going black. The last thing he saw was a snow of white powder, and then everything went black.

-----

 “Phil. Phil, come on. Wake up.”

 Phil curled his toes. Why was it so dark?

  You have to open your eyes, silly.

 “Phil, please wake up. Phil, please!”

 Phil smiled dreamily. He was so, so silly. He just needed to open his eyes! Ha, ha. Wait- how did he do that again?

 Phil heard a weird noise, some sort of weird breathing. Like…. nose breathing? Sniffling, his brain supplied.

 “You should get a tissue,” he mumbled, head lolling against the ground. “You might have a cold.”

 “Phil! Oh my g- you're okay!”

 Phil opened his eyes. It was very bright, very very bright. Dan leaned over him. As Phil’s vision came into focus, he realized Dan was a mess. “What happened to you? You look like you just fought the Pillsbury doughboy.” Phil coughed, the motion painful. His lungs felt like they'd been filled with sand.

 Dan laughed, too happy to speak. Phil didn't understand why. He was truly a mess- white flour was smeared across his whole body, making his hair stick up wildly. The bottom of his nose was caked with dried blood, and the side of his right eye was turning red with bruising.

 He looked really funny all covered in flour. It made his face look paler than normal, all except for a few streaks down his cheeks, where water had apparently washed away the powder. His eyes were a little red, but he laughed with relief.

 Dan helped Phil sit up, feeding him tomato sauce from a coffee mug. He told him about the battle; “...attacked me, swinging and swiping, but I was swinging my sword just as fast…”; and about the prophecy; “...I can't believe that it all came down to pizza flour! All that searching, for the stupid ingredients…”. Phil sat and listened without commenting, allowing Dan to feed him the tomato sauce obediently. Dan told him of his actions too; “...I knew I'd have to cover them in flour somehow, but I had no idea how. Then they jumped me…. if you hadn't completely baby powdered them, I would've been screwed.” He tilted his head to the side, a little off balanced. Flour floated from his hair like dandruff. “Even so, I think I have a concussion, and my nose bled a lot. And my ears have been ringing for a while. I ended up passing out too after I killed them all. Sorry about that.” He shrugged apologetically, though he hadn't stopped smiling since Phil woke up.

 With some food in him, Phil managed to stand with only a little help from Dan. Slowly, they descended the stairs down to the main area, where Dan had been fighting. They were almost at the bottom when Dan stumbled, his legs giving way underneath him, and he collapsed down the stairs, bumping his head against the ground. He rubbed it, smiling comically, but it was clear he was in pain.

 Phil helped him up, and they walked leaning against each other, Dan needed Phil’s support as much as Phil needed Dan’s.

 They retrieved Dan’s sword from the ground, next to an alarming puddle of blood.

 “So what do we do-” Phil started speaking, when Dan's eyes went wide. He shoved Phil to the ground and leapt- intercepting the glowing green creature midair. Becky exploded with a horrible wail, and Dan landed on the ground roughly, sliding a few meters.

 Phil could feel his heartbeat in his temple, his vision going out of focus for a moment before returning. Dan was on his knees, coughing up his lungs. He had done a good job hiding it, but if Dan didn't get medical help soon…

 Phil managed to get to his feet, stumbling over to Dan. “I'm fine,” Dan insisted, standing up too quickly. He collapsed backward against a huge control panel on the wall, unintentionally pressing most of the buttons.

 They watched in horror as many things happened at once that wasn't supposed to happen at once; a large mixing bowl was lifted into the air, a vat of sauce was dumped onto the ground, and a machine line started dropping toppings with nothing to catch them. They watched in horror as an alarm went off, and a huge sack of flour was brought across the ceiling and slammed into a mass of pipes. The pipes exploded, chemicals falling to the floor, where they mixed with the glowing green remains of Becky.

 They watched in horror as the chemicals popped and fizzed, mixing together into a glowing blue portal.

 “We can go home,” Dan whispered in amazement.

 Phil’s throat felt it was filled with cotton balls. “Yeah. I… guess we can.”

 Dan's eyes were bright. “Back to London. Earth London, with no creatures or potions or heights or serpents named Marsha-” he looked at Phil, only then noticing his expression. “You do want to go home, right?”

 Phil felt his face go red. “Well, yeah, I mean…. obviously, I just….” he looked back at Dan and lost the ability to speak. Dan, with his hair covered in flour. Dan, with his new found fear of heights. Dan, swinging the magic sword like he'd been born to do just that. He couldn't lie to him. “I want to stay,” he admitted. “This… adventure has been hard, but I feel like I was meant to be here. I want to learn how to use my powers. Actually use them, and not pass out after two spells.” He snorted, looking at his feet. “And I understand if you want to go home.”

 He didn't look up at Dan. He'd made his choice- now it was was time for Dan to make his.

“I want to go home,” Dan admitted.

They were silent for a few moments. Phil nodded slowly. “Then I guess we should… say goodbye?”

“Fuck.”

Phil looked up at Dan in surprise.

“Fuck!” Dan said again, more angrily. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fu-”

“What's wrong?” Dan looked like he was in serious pain, his eyes squeezed shut, leaning heavily against the controls. “Dan, what's-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Dan had grabbed his shirt collar and yanked him forwards, smashing their lips together in a forceful kiss. Closed mouth, nothing too invasive, but a kiss nonetheless. Angry. No, not angry- frustrated. Then Dan pushed him away.

“I'm sorry,” he was saying immediately. “I had to do that. I couldn't leave without-”

Phil stepped forwards, shutting him up with another kiss. This one was less innocent, now that they both knew they wanted it. Phil pushed him against the control panel, cupping his face in his hands as they kissed deeply, refusing to break apart. Dan's hands wrapped around his waist, only pulling him closer.

They kissed for too long. Dan needed to go, but neither wanted to break apart. Finally, Phil remembered and pulled away sharply, gasping for air.

“You have to go, the portal will-” he turned and stopped. The portal was gone.

“-close,” Dan finished for him. “I know. I saw it close. Phil… I'm staying right here.”

Phil didn't have time to process his words, because right at that moment, the factory doors burst open.

----

At first, they refused to be loaded into separate ambulances, but then Dan fainted and Phil decided he'd rather Dan be taken care of than stay with him. Still, it was hard letting go. Now that he had Dan, he didn't want to ever leave him.

In his ambulance, they gave him some medicine that made everything fuzzy. When it wore off, a day had passed, and he was in a hospital bed in a hospital gown assumably in a hospital.

He had more questions than the nurses had answers, and they chided him for using his voice, which was brittle from disuse and raw as a side effect of the medication. But Dan was fine, they promised, already awake and aware. Phil was taking longer to heal, as his injuries were a result of overextending his magic. The nurse suggested making sure to eat a hearty breakfast, and keeping some protein bars on hand.

“Now please rest. You can see Dan a little bit later, after you're both feeling better.”

“But-”

“You need to give your voice a rest. I can answer more questions later.”

Phil nodded but had one more question to ask.

“How did the ambulance know to come and get us?”

She furrowed her brows.

“You didn't call? It was from an anonymous number inside the factory. I suppose someone saw that you needed help.”

“But-”

It was just then that Phil noticed they weren't alone in the room. Behind the nurse, on a small table sat a black cat.

Sooki had always seemed smarter than most cats. Always hanging around them, helping find clues and other things they wouldn't have otherwise noticed. She always seemed to have their best interests in mind.

Thank you, Phil mouthed.

Sooki blinked. Then she dipped her head down, like a little nod.

In case you skipped over the note at the beginning, this story was made for the @phandomrevrsebang, with the artist @myawfod and beta @smiles-are-toxic. That basically means that @myawfod came up with the idea, and created art to base the story around (art can be found here), along with helping me figure out the story plot and stuff. Then, @smiles-are-toxic helped me come up with ideas, edit, and generally survive the mental breakdown that came with loosing a bunch of writing and having to re-write it. Make sure to check out the art if you haven’t, and keep an eye out for othr phandomreversebang stuff coming out in the next month!

Request A Fic / Fic Masterlist

[gorgeousdan]

notdanhowell

summary: Dan has a guilty pleasure: phan blogs. It’s a mixture of conceited arrogance and morbid curiosity, really. And really, it’s a mixture of these two things that lead to him catfishing members of his phandom and becoming a headcanon blog. After all, what harm can one headcanon do? word count: 2318/20,000 warnings (this chapter): anxiety attacks, angsty!dan

LAST CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

The first thing Dan notices when he wakes up is that it’s bright. The bed’s still warm, and there’s a lump where Phil had been. Dan notices Phil isn’t there anymore. He doesn’t have time to question the weirdness of this fact because his stomach growls and he comes to the realization that he hasn’t eaten anything since the last morning and that’s just unacceptable.

He stretches, and for a brief second there’s a moment of bliss where he doesn’t remember what he’s done. And then it all comes back to him as if in a flash of lightning. But he’s too sleepy and hungry to spiral. Still, he doesn’t touch his phone. He throws a glare at it as he walks out of the room for good measure.

He’s never going to fuck up like that again, that’s for sure.

Dan lets his stomach lead him to the kitchen, where his flatmate sits with a box of pizza, munching absently on a piece. Dan sits down next to him, takes one of the pieces and bites into it. Neither of them say anything, but that’s fine. Dan’s actually rather content with sitting there in silence.

Phil speaks anyway. “Do you wanna talk-”

“No,” Dan answers just a bit too loudly and quickly. Phil jumps. “Sorry, sorry,” Dan says. “It’s nothing.” Phil looks like he might protest, so Dan grabs his hand, runs his fingers over Phil’s knuckles. “I’m fine, really.”

Phil sighs. He squeezes Dan’s hand. “Okay,” he says and then he drops Dan’s hand and nods with his head towards the television. “Are you down for finishing that episode of Attack on Titan?”

Dan can tell Phil’s trying to make things normal so he offers his flatmate a thankful smile. “Sounds good.”

So they don’t talk about it. They spend the rest of the day watching anime and lounging about, Dan answers a few work emails, updates his queue, Phil chuckles at something on his dashboard and Dan looks over his shoulder to look. It’s normal. The calm before the storm, if you will.

Phil says he’s going to work on a video and he leaves Dan alone. Alone with Tumblr open and the notifications from notdanhowell staring at him threateningly.

Well. He almost has to now, doesn’t he?

His headcanon has gained more notes, but that’s not what he’s focused on. His ask box is filled with people praising his work and sending other ideas for headcanons and even full-length fics. He’s not going to fill them, of course he’s not, but one ask in particular catches his eye.

Anonymous said:

you’re such a great writer dani. are you going to write more headcanons? - abby

Dan huffs. There are plenty of amazing writers in the phandom, he’s encountered them himself late at night. Why would people care about his stupid cereal headcanon?

notdanhowell said:

no. i’m not a writer, it was a one-off thing, ta.

Dan goes back to reading through most of the headcanon requests. To be fair, most of them are domestic, platonic, nothing particularly horrifying. He starts on some of the more raunchy one, is on a particularly disturbing requests that has to do with ropes and Shrek masks when the anon sends another ask.

Anonymous said:

aw :(. It’s your decision but your hc made me smile. - abby

So that kind of hits Dan hard. He loves making people happy, that’s why he makes videos, that’s why he does everything he does with Phil. He knows people get enjoyment out of these stupid fics and headcanons, that’s why they write them in the first place. And he doesn’t have that many followers. It didn’t get that many notes. Perhaps it was just a freak thing.

What more harm could one more headcanon do?

He finally decides on a prompt from a girl called Amma which isn’t particularly scarring. Apparently she went to TATINOF as well. He almost thanks her before remembering that he’s notdanhowell for a reason.

shrekdanhowell said:

Could I have a headcanon about how D & P watch TV together? Thanks Dani, you’re the best! <3

Dan glances anxiously to either side to make sure Phil’s still filming his video. He can hear his flatmate talking to himself and sighs in relief as he starts typing.

notdanhowell said:

phil’s usually more invested in movies and new episodes of tv shows, so he tends to watch those without a laptop or phone in hand. however, if it’s the news, old episodes of buffy, the great british bakeoff or something he’s seen before, he tends to sit on twitter with his laptop. he laughs at things and occasionally shows dan.

dan, however, is quite guilty for being on his phone no matter what he’s watching. he blames the information age and millennials in general, but his attention can’t be captivated simply by a tv show or movie, even if it is new. this annoys the shit out of phil.

“Hey.”

Dan nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Dan yells. He turns and sees Phil standing behind him. “Give a guy some warning next time. Jesus.”

Phil giggles. “Sorry,” he says, but Dan can tell he’s not really sorry. He leans his elbows on Dan’s shoulders. “Watcha looking at?”

Dan presses post as fast as lightning and is somehow on the Google homepage by the time Phil looks. “Erm,” he says, because he realizes just a second too late that it might seem really fucking weird that he’s on the Google homepage. “Just googling,” he says, and gives a little unconvincing look.

Phil buys into it, though. “Cool!” He says, then asks, “watcha googling?”

Dan says the first thing that pops into his head, which is, for some reason, “how do mermaids reproduce?” When Phil raises an eyebrow in question, Dan rushes to explain. “Just like,” he starts unhelpfully. “Like, they’re top half human and bottom half fish, you know? So I’m thinking they can’t just,” he trails off.

Phil chuckles. “You’re a weird guy, Dan Howell,” he says. “Why am I even friends with you?”

Dan sighs with relief. “You’re also a weird guy, Phil.” Phil just smiles, but doesn’t say anything in reply so Dan figures he’s kind of in the clear. “Anyway, did you need me? Because I thought you were supposed to be filming a video, not scaring the shit out of your best friend when he’s trying to research the validity of mermaid birthings.”

“I did, actually,” Phil answers. “I wanted to know if I could use one of your jackets? I need to play a soulless character and-”

Dan laughs, “Say no more,” he answers. “Mi closet es tu closet.” He leans back against his hands. “You should wear black more often. It looks good on you.” Jesus Christ, he’s becoming as bad as the shippers.

Phil, thankfully, doesn’t catch onto it. “Unlike you, I have a soul, Daniel James Howell.” With that, he walks off to Dan’s room with a quick, “thanks!” thrown over his shoulder. Dan waits until he hears Phil leave his room and walk into his room with the door shut behind him and he turns back to his laptop.

He can’t afford to have close calls like that.

-

Phil’s video ends and Dan nods approvingly. “It’s very good,” he says. “I don’t think I have any constructive criticism in me for amazingphil videos, though, as a recovering fangirl myself,” he jokes. He knows why Phil does it, though. They’re always the first to watch each other’s videos. It’s become habit.

“I should send you to fangirl anonymous,” Phil jokes with his tongue in between his teeth. He presses post on his video and watches the horrendous upload time. He leans back in his chair and turns to Dan. “All done. Another successful amazingphil video.”

Dan chuckles, “yeah, don’t rub it in,” he replies. “I think the next time a danisnotonfire video is posted it’ll have to be called My Awkward Experience When Hell Froze Over.”

“Catchy,” Phil replies. Then, as if he’s just remembered, “oh, I should turn off Twitter notifications.” He reaches for his phone and logs into the Twitter app.

Dan huffs. He’s already on Twitter, scrolling through his replies. He knows there will be a shit-ton when Phil uploads, but that’s why he keeps his turned off. “I don’t see why you have them on in the first place,” he muses. “You know they’re gonna blow up your replies.”

“I like to see what they’re saying about me,” Phil says. “You should know, Mr. Daniel ‘googles himself for approval’ Howell.” Phil’s remark has no bite to it, though, and Dan knows he doesn’t mean it.

“Rude as fuck,” Dan replies under his breath as he continues to scroll through Twitter. ‘Dan and Phil’s secrets leaked! Click here to view now!’ says a sketchy account with a photo of Phil as the avi. Dan scoffs. Yeah right.c

“Anyway,” Phil muses. Dan looks up from Twitter to look at his best friend. “You’re not much better with your Tumblr notifications.”

Dan feels his blood run cold, but he tries not to let it show on his face. “What do you mean?” he asks instead.

Phil laughs. “Don’t play coy,” he answers. He leans back in his chair so that he can smile up at Dan. “I saw them just yesterday, running across your phone. There must’ve been, like, at least thirty.”

But the thing is, Dan had turned notifications off on Tumblr. For danisnotonfire he had, at least. They had gotten too annoying, it was the same reason he had turned them off on Twitter. But he had never remembered to turn them off for notdanhowell. Meaning Phil had seen those notifications.

Phil must sense that Dan’s spiraling against because he laughs and says, “relax. I didn’t read any of them.” He turns back to his Twitter notifications. “Don’t reckon I would want to know what kind of weird things you get up to on Tumblr, anyway.” Phil looks up from hs phone and gives Dan Concerned Flatmate Look 7™. “Or do I?”

Dan tries to laugh it off. “Just the odd meme or miscellaneous bruise, Phil. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Phil nods. “Right,” he says, and Dan can tell he doesn’t buy it but Phil’s kind of a great flatmate like that and knows when to pick his battles. “Anyway, do you think I should move this clip here?”

-

Dan’s fingers drum against the keyboard of his laptop. It’s late but he can’t sleep, a strange mixture of guilt and curiosity thumping through his veins. He’s on another phanfiction writer’s blog, this time it’s someone named Seb, apparently, who has a photo of Dan smiling as their sidebar photo.

Dan’s fingers drum against the keyboard where he’s pulled up Seb’s ask box. He’s on anon, of course, and he’s written out a message. Fully awake, this would probably be a terrible idea. But he’s half asleep and has a strange mixture of guilt and curiosity so he presses send anyway.

Anonymous said:

what if dan fucked up really bad? what do you think phil would do?

Dan goes back to his dashboard, queues some things for danisnotonfire as he waits for Seb to respond. He refuses to spend the whole time obsessively pressing refresh, but he’s honestly kind of tempted.

Seb, however, responds quickly enough.

theaterkidlester said:

Hey!

Hm, interesting question! I think it would depend on what Dan did, tbh! (And I don’t speculate about rl Dan and Phil anyway, lmao.)

I guess we’ll never know rip

Dan scoffs. The one time a fan speculating about his personal, private life could have actually been helpful. He goes back to Seb’s ask, types out another response.

Anonymous said:

yeah but, like, what do you think would happen? isn’t that the point of fanfiction, anyway? Speculating?

Seb responds more quickly this time. Dan figures he’s probably on Tumblr now as well.

theaterkidlester said:

First off, the point of fanfiction is to have fun and share your writing with other people with similar interests and experiences, not to force your views onto two men who probably don’t even know you exist, lmao.

Anyway, I don’t think there’s much Dan could do that Phil would consider too fucked up.

Dan reads the response and finds himself kind of pissed off. Who is this person? The reason fanfiction was so fucked up in the first place was that it made assumptions about his and Phil’s lives, about their sexuality. Who were they to consider themselves, what had they written in the tags, a respectful shipper? Wasn’t that a bit of a misnomer?

well, he begins typing, what if dan did something really, really fucked up that he knew that dan knew phil would hate him for? and phil didn’t know about it but if he did he would think dan was a freak? and what if it was really fucking dan up because phil’s the person he trusts with everything and-

Dan realizes he’s stopped typing because he’s shaking and his eyes are blurring over with tears. God, he thinks, he’s so pathetic, crying over a stupid headcanon to a stupid fanfiction blog with a stupid sixteen year old that he was just trying to help out when he made notdanhowell.

Dan slams his macbook shut and brings the heels of his hands to his eyes. He tries to wipe some of the tears away, tries to convince himself that it’s stupid to cry, but that just makes him cry harder until he’s leaning his head against his knees and he’s hysterical. He’s hysterically crying over a headcanon. Gosh, it really must be late.

Dead tired, Dan gets under hs duvet, rubs his nose with the back of his hand, curls up into a pillow and cries himself to sleep.

God. How incredibly stupid.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Sup kiddos guess who’s wildly behind on his nano project if you’ve guessed me you would be correcto.

This chapter features a follower named Abby, the awesome @shrekdanhowell and myself, because I didn’t want Dan to fight with any of you.

if you would like to be written into a chapter pls apply here thanks.

boop boop love you have an awesome day drink water

-seb

[jbankai89]

Never Let Me Go [16/37]

A/N: Trigger Warning: This chapter contains implied/referenced self-harm(cutting).

I'm posting this early because Monday I need to stand in front of people and talk for like an hour and a half so I need a little happy between then and now. To make up for the upset in the posting schedule, I'll also be updating on Thursday (November 16th) after that, we'll be back to our usual schedule.

Chapter Fifteen – Convalescence

The days progressed slowly, and Yuri's injuries faded gradually, although never quickly enough to fully satisfy the omega's impatience for being bed-bound for such a long period of time. After two very long weeks he could finally walk again, albeit with a noticeable limp, which the doctor assured him would disappear in time. The deep gouges upon his back, chest, and legs were now little more than pink scars, the scabs recently shed, though they still twinged painfully if Yuri moved incorrectly.

The only physical reminder of his altercation with the tiger that remained was his arm wrapped in plaster. He had been assured the cast would come off soon, though the doctor had been frustratingly vague on how soon soon actually was.

In the time from Yuri's argument with Otabek to the present moment, he had not seen the alpha once. Yuri had yet to work out how he felt about that, but he supposed that Otabek was still mad at him over his remarks regarding Minami's rescue.

In hindsight, Yuri knew that Otabek was probably right, that there had probably been very few ways for him to get Minami out without endangering himself or Yuri, but his absolute lack of remorse for his actions still deeply chilled the omega. Would the same thing happen to him if he got on Otabek's bad side? Did the man even have a conscience? Yuri wasn't entirely certain whether he wanted to find out.

Yuri shook his head minutely in an effort to dispel the dark thoughts, and the he refocused his attention the present—in particular, the other omega who sat in the library with him.

Minami was perched upon the opposite end of the sofa that Yuri sat upon, a cup of black coffee in front of Yuri, and hot chocolate for Minami. The omega was smiling nervously, dressed in one of Yuri's pairs of fitted jeans and an overlarge black pullover that almost fell to his knees. His hands had disappeared into the garment, and only reappeared when he periodically went for his drink.

Looking at the omega, it was painfully clear that Seung-Gil had positively terrorized him while under his so-called care. Minami's hands shook, he jumped at the smallest sound, his eyes were red and puffy as though he'd been crying recently; and though the bonding mark on his throat had faded, marking him as an available omega once more, Yuri could see other scars. A tiny triangle on his cheek, a jagged tear on his throat, and thin horizontal scars upon his inner forearms that Yuri suspected were not caused by his former alpha.

“I'm okay, really,” Minami said softly when he caught Yuri watching him, his voice barely above a whisper as he cradled his hot chocolate in his hands. “Otabek has been very kind to let me stay here, and Yuuri-kun visited me when I was still recovering...and Otabek said that he would try and find a way to keep me here, away from a House, at least until I'm ready to face another alpha. He promised that he'd try and find someone for me, someone who was actually nice. B-but with you leaving...”

Yuri narrowed his eyes. He could hear the unspoken words. Did Minami want his alpha?

Wait, where did that come from? Yuri wondered as he shook his head minutely. Since when did I consider Otabek...mine?

“Do you...want him?” Yuri asked uncertainly, and a faint blush painted the young man's cheeks in response to the question. Yuri struggled to hide his suspicious glare behind his coffee cup, but he was not entirely certain how well he'd managed it.

“He...makes me feel safe,” Minami explained, “I like feeling safe. And he makes me feel like...like he'd never push. I don't think he even notices me, though.”

“He doesn't?” Yuri asked, and bit the inside of his cheek at the sudden sensation of relief that flooded through him. At the same time, Minami shook his head.

“He only has eyes for you, Yuri,” Minami replied with a small, knowing smile. “He always has.”

This time, it was Yuri's turn to blush.

“I don't think he does anymore,” Yuri mumbled as he sipped his coffee, “we had a big fight and he hasn't spoken to me since, and he said he'd given up on me.”

“I don't think that's true,” Minami replied reassuringly, “he's very protective of you, I think he probably loves you, and he's just...he's still learning how to be a person. Alphas grow up very different than us, and I think he's still learning how to be someone you can trust...someone you can rely on.”

“When did you get so damn wise?” Yuri mumbled, and Minami smiled weakly as he stared down into his mug. He did not respond, but shifted over to Yuri and curled into his side silently. Yuri jerked back slightly in alarm, startled by the sudden need Minami seemed to have for some sort of physical comfort, but a moment later he relaxed as he awkwardly placed his plaster-encased hand against Minami's shoulder, and patted him gently.

Minami eventually dozed off, and Yuri carefully eased the omega over to the opposite end of the sofa, enabling him to stand up for a quick trip to the bathroom.

On his way back, the low rumble of Otabek's voice stopped him short. Yuri paused outside the parlour, and listened.

“—I don't want to send him away too soon,” Otabek said to the person on the phone, “he's still recuperating, and I think sending him to another alpha would be a bad—no, no, I don't mean that. He's very damaged; Seung-Gil really did a number on him, and I don't want to make things worse. I've made enough mistakes with my own omega, and I don't want to hurt anyone anymore.”

There was a pause, and Yuri could hear a tinny voice at the other end of the phone line, though he was too far away for him to make out the words.

“It doesn't matter what I want,” Otabek snapped suddenly, making Yuri jump. “No, it really doesn't. I want Yuri here, I want him—fuck, I want him so badly, I never thought it would be this hard to let him go, but all my attempts to get close to him just made things worse. Because of me, he almost died, do you understand that? No, I'll send him away, somewhere safe, where he can be happy. I don't really expect any sort of thank-you, but I don't think I deserve it either...No, I really don't. I've been...it's a miracle I didn't destroy him. I've done enough damage. I love him, more than I ever thought I would, but I need to let him go.”

Yuri pressed himself against the wall, and slid down to the ground. Tears burned in his eyes, but he couldn't fathom why he was crying to begin with. This was a good thing, wasn't it?

He buried his face in his uninjured hand with a soft hiccough, and he trembled as he mopped his eyes and tried to calm down.

A sudden shadow cast over him as he sat there, and Yuri peered through his fingers to see Otabek standing over him, his face as impassive as ever. He froze, and watched as Otabek crouched before him, reached into his pocket, and withdrew a handkerchief. He held it out to Yuri silently, and Yuri accepted it with a soft, sniffling nod of thanks.

“Are you all right, Yuri?” Otabek asked, “I suppose you overheard me.”

“D-did you know I was out here when you said all that?” Yuri asked as he wiped his eyes, and he cursed silently at his feeble tone. He'd intended to demand whether Otabek had staged it or not, and the weakened voice sounded positively pathetic in his own ears.

“No, I had not planned for you to hear any of that, Yuri,” Otabek replied at once, his mouth twitching into a small frown as he sat down across from the omega, and no longer loomed over him. “I didn't want you to feel guilty about leaving. I'm not sure you even would, but...I want to do right by you, whatever that might be. I don't want to hurt you any more, in any way. You are precious to me, and I want you to live a happy life. I had always hoped that that would be with me, but I realize now that I can't make those decisions for you. I want you to be able to choose who to love, and with me here, you can't do that. I see that now.”

Yuri watched in quiet amazement as Otabek's voice shook a little, and he cleared his throat once, erasing the sound. Yuri did not miss the look of genuine longing in his eyes, nor the look of regret. Was this love that he saw in the alpha's gaze?

“I'm sorry that I could not give you the life you deserve, Yuri,” Otabek continued, and for once, he sounded completely sincere and genuinely apologetic. “I'm sorry for all the damage and heartache that I have caused you, and...I'm sorry for upsetting you with my, erm, for the way I got Minami away from his alpha. It had never occurred to me that ridding the earth of scum like him would be a bad thing...”

“It's not really that,” Yuri said, his voice escaping him as a croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “it's more that you just acted so...so...cold. Like you hadn't just killed someone. It...you...you act like you have no feelings, and that's what scares me. It makes me wonder about all the times you heard me though my collar, and didn't do anything about it...or sicced JJ on me...”

“When I did what?” Otabek sputtered, his eyes bulging a little as he stared at Yuri. He did not sound angry at Yuri's remarks, but instead shocked and horrified. “Where on earth did you get the idea that I sent JJ after you to accost you?”

“It's just a theory,” Yuri muttered and winced at the look in Otabek's eyes—the horror and anguish that Yuri had implied such a thing of him. He glanced away and stared down the hall at nothing in particular—anything to avoid the look Otabek was still giving him. “I mean, the two times JJ went after me, you showed up to save the day not thirty seconds later. Makes me wonder if you sent JJ after me to make yourself look good, that's all.”

“Yuri,” Otabek said seriously, his tone drawing Yuri's attention back to him, and when his eyes fell on the alpha, he saw his hands hovering over Yuri's uncertainly. “May I?”

Confused but intrigued, Yuri nodded his head. Otabek smiled, and closed two of his hands over one of Yuri's. He lifted the limb to his face, and pressed a gentle kiss to Yuri's palm before he closed both hands over the appendage again.

“The way I had your collar configured was it was hooked in wirelessly to the main anti-theft software of the house. It routed to the security and surveillance room first, then if my head of security heard anything shifty, he'd contact me right away. A lot of the things you said while wearing it, I did not hear until later. When JJ went after you, he contacted me, and I rushed to intervene, but I never put him up to it, I swear.”

Yuri frowned as he studied the alpha's face. He sounded genuine, and his wide eyes seemed to be pleading with Yuri to believe him. His thumb brushed along the back of Yuri's hand, and he shivered a little at the touch, but not, he observed, a reaction in revulsion—it felt nice.

“I'm sorry,” Yuri muttered at last, and bowed his head a little. “In my head, I sort of want you to be the bad guy. You know, evil moustache and top hat, tie your hostage to the train tracks, soon my Destructo-Ray will Destroy Metropolis bad. And...you're not. You were...you were scary when I first got here, and ever since you keep changing you attitudes to suit me, and I've just been a little bitch about it...”

“Be fair to yourself, Yuri,” Otabek said softly, “for a long time I was not nice to you. I did a lot of horrible things because I thought it was okay to act that way. For you to endure what you've endured and still come out of it more or less in one piece? You've taught me so much, and I am very glad that I met you. I just hope you know that I am trying to do what I can to make up for all that. After this is over and you are settled somewhere safer, you will never see me again. I promise.”

Otabek untangled one hand from Yuri's and touched his cheek lightly, and offered him a small smile. It was more of an emotional response than Yuri had seen him make in a very long while, and it left Yuri feeling mildly stunned. When he did not respond, Otabek stood fluidly, turned on his heel, and strode down the hall without even a backward glance.

Yuri watched him go, his stomach twisting itself into knots. Why did it feel like I've lost something in that simple act? Yuri wondered.

And why, suddenly, did he feel like crying again?

~*~

After Yuri had at last gotten rid of his cast and had full use of both of his arms again, Otabek intruded on Yuri and Nikolai playing cards in the parlour, his eyes strangely red, and a number of papers in his hands. Minami, still afraid of being alone, was sitting quietly in the corner and watching them play.

“I have some news for the two of you,” Otabek said as he brandished the papers in his hands significantly. “Minami, would you give us a moment, please?”

Minami visibly brightened when Otabek addressed him directly, and Yuri narrowed his eyes at the younger omega. He watched him dart out of the parlour, and Yuri bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to keep his anger in check. Who does that little tart think he is, anyway? Yuri thought sourly, slobbering all over my alpha like that—

Yuri shook his head sharply.

What the hell am I thinking? I'm leaving Otabek, so why am I suddenly jealous of some little bird with two broken wings?

“I've been searching around to try and find some options for the two of you,” Otabek began, drawing Yuri out of his anxious thoughts, “and I've found a few places that might work. If you don't like them, I'll go look for something else, all right?”

“Fine,” Yuri said, and Nikolai nodded in agreement. Otabek smiled, and his eyes met Yuri's for the briefest of moments. Again, Yuri could not help but notice just how red they seemed to be, and fleetingly wondered if the alpha had been crying.

Ridiculous, Yuri thought as Otabek picked up the first wad of papers, Otabek isn't the kind to get all weepy for anything.

“The first one I have is actually through a friend in Switzerland,” Otabek began as he flipped to a few printed-out photographs of a modest house in a city that Yuri did not recognize. “He's based in Berne, and is invested in a few national sport teams, wineries in Neuchâtel, as well as chocolatiers in Lucerne. He is a beta, and a bit...eccentric, but a good man—a flirt, though. He has enough political sway to rush through a citizenship, and until then he can shelter you in his home, or, if you prefer, he owns a number of apartment complexes in the city, and you can stay there instead.”

“How are Swiss laws for omegas?” Nikolai asked, and Otabek flipped to another page.

“Fairly good,” Otabek replied smoothly. “Omegas have almost all the same rights as alphas and betas, and right now they are pushing for a bill to remove the wage differences between alphas and betas, and omegas. They can own property, separate from alphas if they wish, and it is illegal in many parts of Switzerland to mark an omega, making it easier for an omega to leave if he's being abused by his spouse.”

“That doesn't sound too bad,” Yuri mused, “what are the other options you found?”

“The Netherlands I would say is your next best option,” Otabek said as he pulled out the next stack of papers, and showed them a number of photographs. This time Yuri recognized the city in the photographs as Amsterdam.

Excellent, Yuri thought, just barely managing to hide an amused smile, I can avoid getting accosted by alphas, and get blazed.

“I have some investments over there, and a few properties,” Otabek continued, “and I know who to bribe in government to rush through your citizenship. Omegas have complete equal rights, and though marking an omega is legal, you need to process all sorts of paperwork in order to be allowed to do it. If you mark an omega unwillingly, or without the right paperwork, you can be charged with rape and holding a person against their will, and that's five to ten years in prison there.”

Both Yuri and Nikolai nodded, and Otabek glanced up, his eyes falling on Yuri for a moment before he returned to his stack of papers, and pulled out the last one.

“The last one I found that I think might work is Iceland,” Otabek said, and turned to some quaint photographs of a fishing village. Next to him, Yuri saw his grandfather perk up at once when he laid his eyes on the images.

“My family technically owns this entire village, but I haven't done anything with it until recently,” Otabek explained, his face adopting a nervous expression as he regarded Yuri and Nikolai. “It's a sanctuary just outside of Reykjavik. Established in the last few weeks.”

“Sanctuary?” Yuri asked, and cocked his head to the side curiously. “What do you mean?”

“I mean it's like a gated community,” Otabek explained with a small smile. “It's reserved for omegas—and occasionally alphas—as well as mated couples escaping persecution in their home countries. It's a compound, of a sort. Independent from the Icelandic government, and I get a not-for-profit grant for it, but I have no control over what goes on there, the local government has control of that, so my owning it would have no impact on your lives there. There is a general store, fishing ports, shops, a square, bank, hospital...everything that a town would need to thrive. This is all done in secret, of course, for safety. It's advertised as a small gated community, and only those who need to know are aware of its true purpose.

“I could set you up there with a small house on the water, with a fishing trawler, and a space at the open market. The market is open every day except Mondays. You can start your lives over in a safe space.”

“I haven't really felt all that safe in years...” Yuri muttered, and glanced up at Otabek.

Except when I'm with you.

Wait, Yuri thought suddenly with another short shake of his head, where did that come from? Aren't we doing all this to get away from each other?

“I like the idea of the Sanctuary,” Nikolai said, drawing Yuri from his tangle of thoughts. “It seems the safest option while you find your feet again, Yuratchka.”

“Yeah,” Yuri replied halfheartedly, and drew his knees up to his chest, ignoring the odd looks both his grandfather and Otabek were giving him. “It sounds good.”

“I'll have the paperwork drawn up,” Otabek said with a small smile, “I'll be able to send you two off in the next month, at minimum. If you two change your mind, just let me know. Otherwise, I'll get the paperwork to you soon.”

“And perhaps pick us up an Icelandic phrasebook,” Nikolai offered, causing both Otabek and Yuri to chuckle softly.

~*~

Yuri's first heat after his return to the manor was by and large the weirdest heat he'd ever experienced.

For one, it seemed as though he and Minami had synced-up, and their heats hit within an hour of each other.

For two, Minami was still afraid of being alone.

All to the effect that now Yuri had a very horny, very needy omega snuggled into his side, whimpering as they both waited for the suppressants to kick in.

“Yuri...” Minami whimpered as he gyrated into his thigh, “want...want...”

“Would you shut the fuck up?” Yuri growled, “knock it off, that's very distracting.”

Yuri wiggled away from the omega, but Minami zipped back to him immediately and burrowed back into his side.

“Want...alpha...” he mumbled again. Yuri gritted his teeth, and just barely managed to swallow a growl.

“He's mi—” Yuri cut himself off as he flushed a deep scarlet when he realized what he'd almost said, and tried again. “An alpha is not what you need right now, Minami. Just try and sleep and stop humping me like a damn golden retriever.”

“But alphas feel so good, I need it...” Minami moaned and whimpered, and ignored Yuri's order as he bucked into Yuri's thigh again.

“Trust me, that's the last thing you need,” Yuri muttered. “Did you take your suppressants?”

“No.”

Well, that explains a lot.

Grumbling, Yuri grabbed the pill bottle off the nightstand and shook out two capsules. He dragged the shivering omega up into a sitting position, and while he ignored his companion's whines of protest, he pried his mouth open, tossed the two pills in, and forced the glass of water on him. Minami glowered at him, but drank obediently.

Yuri flopped back down after making sure Minami hadn't done something stupid like hide the pills under his tongue, and then settled Minami back down while making a mental note to ask him what his issue with the suppressants were when their heats had ended. Predictably, Minami snuggled into his side again like a very persistent pet, and Yuri ground his teeth in annoyance while he tried to ignore Minami's irritating and very unattractive humping. Privately, he found himself momentarily relieved that Otabek was so enamoured with him and not Minami, for he could not fathom any time where what Minami was doing would be seen as appealing to anyone.

Very slowly, Minami's sexual needs died down, and exhausted, he curled up into Yuri's side and fell asleep. The sudden shift in mood from horny to sleepy reminded Yuri very much of a cat, and he couldn't help but smile a little as he watched him sleep. On instinct, Yuri wrapped his arms around the omega and drew him close, allowing Minami to snuggle into his chest. It felt strange, but almost weirdly nice at the same time.

Yuri glanced down at his companion, and brushed a few sweat-soaked strands of hair from his closed eyes. Minami only seemed to know peace when he slept, and Yuri could only imagine how stressful heats were for him, if the physical evidence left on his skin from Seung-Gil was any indicator. The fact that he seemed to be pining for the touch of an alpha so soon after his rescue deeply worried Yuri, but he had no idea how to address it, especially not during a heat when his mind was almost as clouded as Minami's seemed to be.

Yuri settled down next to Minami with a small sigh, his arms still wrapped around him protectively, and he closed his eyes.

Yuri couldn't quite fathom why, but when he thought to the future, he looked ahead with both fear and anguish, and not hope anymore. He wasn't sure if this was a product of years of torment—first from trying to escape the clutches of the Omega House, then his life on the run, and eventually his internment at the Altin Estate, or something else entirely. Was he really broken? Did the concept of freedom no longer feel like a reward, but a condemnation?

Maybe I just don't know what happiness is anymore, Yuri thought as he yawned, I don't know if I'll enjoy Iceland, and I don't know if it is a good idea, since we'll still be under Otabek's thumb, technically, at least. But it seems to be safe there, and even though it's not true freedom, it's an illusion I can live with...for now.

With his head propped against Minami's forehead protectively, he finally fell asleep.

A/N: I just want to note that I am aware that in the canon Minami is actually 2 years older than Yuri, but I fucked with the ages because of how I characterized Minami, it worked better (in my head at least) to have him younger. Just stating this for those of you who adhere to the canon more rigidly, even in the wonderful world of fanfic ;P 

If you like my work, please consider throwing a few bucks into my Digital Tip Jar. I am a starving artist, and I like not actually starving to death :P you can also support me on Patreon, where I am posting all things related to my upcoming cookbook. Simply Vegan

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