#i hated storms when i was younger because of sandy

[kyistell]

So I added a fanfic snippet part to the google doc, wrote one for Jersey, Cali and then York, and York's the only one I want to share at the moment. Maybe I will share the other ones if asked but for now it's just this, ENJOY

New York-

Sleep

New York liked to sleep, it was peaceful and calming and he didn’t have to think about everything going on around him, it was the perfect break from his ADHD mind. However sleep did not like him, he wouldn’t be able to sleep for days until he basically passed out.

Mass was able to figure out that because NYC is the city that never sleeps, New York can’t really either. The two figured out that as long as he keeps up with a routine, he should be able to get to sleep easier and faster, though having a routine has its own problems. 

Table meetings could happen very early in the morning sometimes, and if York had to go to those meetings it would screw his whole schedule up. It wasn’t until one night where he finally was able to have a solution.

It was pouring out, rolls of thunder after flashes of lightning happening what seemed like every second. York likes the rain and thunder, it was calming, especially when the wind was loud, it was easiest for him to fall asleep. 

This was not the case for New Jersey. Jersey hated storms, wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until it was barely raining anymore and that wasn’t even consistent. He used to like them, though not as much as York did, but after hurricane Irene in 2011 and hurricane Sandy the following year, he could never see them the same.

This is why it wasn’t all too surprising to hear hard knocking on his door, opening it to find an exhausted and wet faced Jersey. Letting him in and onto the bed, the two sat there for a long while until York heard light snores coming from the other.

New York sat there even longer just thinking, hearing the rain start to die down he felt himself start to tire. He wasn’t feeling particularly tired before, but now, with Jersey laying on top of him as peacefully as someone afraid of storms can, he felt just as exhausted as Jersey had looked. 

For the first time in a few days, New York found himself able to sleep with ease as the wind slowed and the constant thunder and lighting became less and less. 

The two didn’t speak of this afterward, they never tended to when it came to storm sleepovers, York preferred just to remind him that he’s always free to come over if he can’t sleep, this time however Jersey said that the offer was mutual. 

York thought this over a few nights later when he couldn’t sleep and desperately needed to. Making up his mind, he snapped over to Jersey place, knocked on the door and waited for a moment before it opened.

When Jersey questioned why he was here York only said “Wanna have a sleepover?”.

[messers-moony]

Annotated Books & Sleek Hardcovers | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Fem!Lupin!Reader

Summary: Everything told them to be apart, but they said fuck the world.

Inspiration: Click

People would describe the younger Lupin sibling as warm and bright. She shined like the sun and was warm like a sunny summer day. She was the breeze on a warm summer day and the sun on a chilly autumn morning. She was worn books with annotations in the margins, highlighting, and scribbles. She was dependable, sweet, kind, and loving. 

Dependable like a best friend. Sweet like Honeydukes chocolate. Kind of like a puppy dog who had been just adopted and as lovable as soft blankets. Her brother was no different. He oozed shyness, charisma, and intelligence. His tousled sandy hair and gleaming green eyes made everyone bend to his will. He didn’t even know that he was doing it. 

But by fifth year, Remus Lupin had come out as gay. A month later, Sirius Black was on top of the Gryffindor table with a blushing Remus announcing their relationship. Remus had given his sister a sheepish look as he sat back down. Y/n had just kissed his cheek and smiled. 

Y/n and Regulus had been sitting beside each other when Sirius had taken the Great Hall by storm. Instinctively, Regulus tightened his grip on her hand, and Y/n allowed her thumb to run along his. She watched as his shoulders relaxed a prominent amount. 

“Well,” Regulus whispered, “I wasn’t expecting that. Did you know?”

Y/n shook her head, “No, but I’m happy for them. Are you?”

“I ‘spose.” Regulus shrugged, “When do you think they’ll find out about us?”

“Remus is a bit oblivious.” Y/n replied, “Sirius doesn’t really turn his head in your direction.”

Regulus looked down at his lap, “So if anything, we’ll have to tell them.”

“Do you think,” His voice was lower than a whisper, “That he’ll ever be my brother again?”

“I do.” Y/n leaned her head on his shoulder, “Siblings have a special bond.”

“I hope you’re right.”

She snorted, “I’m always right.”

At that, he cracked a smile. 

Maybe it was her warmth that melted the ice surrounding Regulus’ heart. The icy, cold, Regulus Black. It wasn’t like they were hiding their relationship, but people were terrified to talk about it. They didn’t want to face the wrath of the young Black brother. 

Regulus was described as the dark, cold winter nights people despised. The winter nights that were so low in temperature that even staying inside with the heat on, blankets on, and layers of clothes couldn’t warm. He was sleek, hardcover books and soggy leaves in the fall that left you disappointed when the satisfying crunch didn’t echo through your ears. 

Regulus Black was everything but warm. He was your least favorite color. Your least favorite food. He was everything you hated. Perhaps it was Y/n’s sweetness that brought some of the crunchiness back to his leaf, the pen to his book, and the folded pages. 

They were star-crossed lovers. Everything in the universe was trying to keep them apart from the colors of their robes and the clashing of their personalities. Regulus was the dry autumn and brash winter. Y/n was the prospering spring and hopeful summer. Perhaps they were the best of both worlds, and that’s why they worked together so well. 

It wasn’t until their sixth year when their relationship had become the talk of the school. Regulus had begun wearing long sleeves even in the hot months, and people grew suspicious. Only he and she knew what laid beneath that crisp white button-up. Beneath the cold ice he kept around his heart. 

Y/n looked around Platform Nine and Three-Quarters for her raven-haired boyfriend as Remus joined his friends on the train. When she did find him, it wasn’t pleasant. Walburga had been fussing with his sleeve, making sure it stayed down, and she had slapped the back of his head for slouching over. Regulus had rolled his shoulders to stand up straight. Orion didn’t look impressed, and Walburga murmured something along the lines of, “Good enough.”

“Now, what do we say, Regulus?”

Regulus caught Y/n’s eyes for just a split second, and he looked away hastily, “Toujours Pur.”

“Good.” Walburga stated, “Now go.”

He nodded and began walking toward Y/n’s general direction. Regulus took her hand in his directing her on another path, “Meet at our usual compartment.”

Y/n gave him a smile in response as she walked away. It left Regulus with a pink hue coating his usually pale skin. His stomach fluttered, and his heart palpitated. They entered the train on opposite sides and met in the middle at their compartment. She was already sitting down when he plopped down beside her. His head was leaning on her shoulder. 

“Missed you.” Regulus slurred, sleep evident in his tone, “Wish I could’ve escaped.”

“I missed you too, Reggie.” Y/n took his left hand in hers, “But I know that we have a lot to talk about.”

He tensed, “I suppose we do.” 

“Things like what’s on your left forearm?”

“Y/n, please-“

“I’m not mad.”

“But you’re disappointed.”

Her light laugh confused him, “I’m not either, actually.”

Regulus lifted his head to look at her, “You aren’t?”

“I just want to know what you plan on doing with that mark.”

“I don’t have a choice.” Regulus stated, slumping down again, “I have to serve him.”

Y/n hesitated, “You have choices.”

“What are they?”

“Be a spy.” 

“A spy?” Regulus queried incredulously, “Are you serious?”

A silly smile graced her features, “Actually. Forget I asked that. Are you daft?”

“No.” Y/n replied, “I’m actually top of our class, so.”

“If he finds out I’m a spy. Then I’d be killed, Y/n.” Regulus said softly, “It’d be different if I didn’t care about anyone. If I had nothing to lose, but I do, and I don’t want to lose a chance at a future with you because of it.”

Y/n took his face into her hands, “You can’t do this. You can’t work for him. You’ll kill yourself slowly anyway.”

“I don’t have a choice.” He wiped a tear from her cheek, “This was bound to happen. This was my fate.”

“Who gives a shit about fate.” Y/n chuckled tearfully, “Professor Trelawney always said that you could change fate.”

Regulus cracked a tiny smile, “You would pay attention in Divination, wouldn’t you.”

“Someone’s gotta give Sirius the notes.” 

“Sirius… I didn’t even think about-“ Regulus stopped, “He’s- He’s gonna hate me.”

“Hey, Regulus, look at me.” His breathing sped up, and his hands began to tremble, “Sirius isn’t going to hate you.”

He shook his head, “No, he’s- he’s gonna- I’m gonna-“

Y/n wrapped her arms around him. Regulus nosed at the crook of her neck, breathing in the sweet perfume. The fragrance smelt of crisp apples mixed along with her scent of caramel, chocolate, and marshmallow. It gave him something to focus on, and with his muddled mind, Regulus fell asleep. 

Regulus was still asleep three hours later when Sirius came barging into the compartment stopping in his tracks. Y/n brought her index finger to her lips, ordering him to be quiet. Sirius shut the door and sat in front of them. Regulus’ face was out of view from his older brother's. His nose was nuzzled in Y/n’s neck, and his hair hid his face. 

“So,” Sirius began quietly, the atmosphere had never been so thick, “How long?”

“Fourth year.” Y/n thought Sirius’ eyes were going to bulge out of his head. 

“But you- and him- you don’t-“

“Don’t belong together?”

Sirius nodded, “Who are you to say? Technically I could say the same about you and my brother.”

“Fair point.” Sirius muttered. 

It was quiet again, and all that was heard was the slashing of rain on the window of the train, “How- How is he?” Sirius’ voice had never been so quiet before. 

“He’ll be okay.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

Before Y/n could respond, Regulus began to tremble again. He was trying to dig his nose deeper into her neck and reaching desperately for something to hold onto. Y/n allowed his hand to grasp hers tightly. His trembling subsided, and Y/n gently kissed the crown of his head, allowing him to relax finally. 

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“I never-“ Sirius looked shocked, “I could never calm his nightmares….”

Y/n gave him a soft smile, “Perhaps it’s a Lupin talent.”

“Perhaps.” Sirius replied, “But, is he okay?”

“He will be.”

“What does that mean?” Sirius questioned loudly, and Y/n hushed him, “They didn’t- did they?”

She nodded solemnly, “We’re gonna- We’re gonna work through it together.” 

Sirius could see her swallowing the lump in her throat. Sirius could see the dullness in her eyes, the same dull that Remus’ eyes got after the full moon. Sirius could always read Remus through his eyes. They were a tell-tale of his emotions. It seemed that he could do the same with Y/n. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, untold trauma, and unspoken words. 

“Take care of him, yeah?” Sirius requested quietly as he stood up to leave the compartment. 

She nodded, “Yeah.”

He closed the sliding door quietly. It was a quiet walk back to his own compartment with the Marauders. The task of getting the summer homework to copy turned into an entirely new adventure. Sirius opened the door to his compartment to find James and Peter talking animately. Remus sat with his head against the glass and head in a book. He had some muggle markers beside him that Sirius liked to draw with. 

Sirius slumped beside Remus putting space between them. That was the first tell. The second tell was that Sirius didn’t speak, and he stared out to the train's hallway. Remus closed his book, placing it back beside him, and wrapped his arm around his boyfriend's shoulders. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice was low and hot in Sirius’ ear. 

“Nothing.” Sirius replied, still not looking into Remus’ eyes, “Your sister was no help. Said I needed to do the homework on my own. Said I was a tosser for not doing it.”

Remus snorted and nuzzled his nose into Sirius’ cheek, “Well, perhaps I ought to tell her that’s not how she should speak to my boyfriend.” 

“No.” Sirius hated how distant he sounded, “She’s got other things to worry about.”

The lycanthrope furrowed his eyebrows, “Like what?”

“Like you.” Sirius lied like it was nothing, “Who do you think puts hot cocoa and Honeydukes chocolate at your bedside after the full?”

“Then I should give her a sister of the year award.” Remus corrected, and Sirius nodded, “Perhaps you should.”

If only I could get a best brother award, Sirius thought. It was selfish. He knew that. It was wrong to envy Y/n and Remus’ relationship. Unfit to be jealous of his brothers relationship, but he couldn’t help it. Sirius wanted to be the one to chase all of Regulus’ demons away. Sirius wanted to hold him during every thunderstorm as he used to as children. Sirius should be happy for Regulus even if it weren’t because of him. 

It took a month before Remus was storming into the common room and yelled insanities at his sister. Remus wasn’t thinking, words fell from his mouth so carelessly, and the entire common room stared as Remus had his sister pushed against a wall, hands holding her up from the collar on her shirt, seething at her. 

“You must be one of the stupidest people I’ve ever met.” Remus seethed, and Y/n flinched, “You must be fucking insane.”

Sirius could do nothing but stare, “Maybe I should’ve disowned you as my sister the minute I saw you hanging out with him.”

Tears ebbed at Y/n’s eyes, “But I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I trusted you, and you betrayed me.”

James couldn’t tell what was worse, the fact that Remus was so calm and his voice was so low or when Remus yelled, “You were my everything. My sister, my partner in crime, my other half, and you fucking destroyed it.”

“Mate, stop.” James tried to interject, but Remus just shoved her against the wall harder, and streaks of silver appeared on her cheeks. 

“Wonder what dad would do if he found out.” Remus taunted, and Y/n shook her head, “You know how much dad despises them.”

Y/n choked, “Remus-“

“Don’t.” He snarled, “My name isn’t allowed to fall from your mouth. Fucking traitor.”

Sirius had enough, “Remus, stop. That’s enough.”

Remus whirled around, Y/n sliding to the floor, knees to her chest, “Who are you talk? You did the same thing back in fifth year.”

“I’m not your bloody sister.” Sirius snapped, “She’s been there with you through everything. Maybe if you let her explain, then you could understand.”

Remus pointed at her and looked at Sirius with fire in his eyes, “She isn’t my sister. She’ll never be my sister again.”

Sirius could remember the exact same words falling from his mouth only a year earlier, and it crushed him. Y/n was sobbing, and her knees were pulled tightly under her chin. James was trying to console her, but it wasn’t working as Remus and Sirius went toe to toe. Y/n didn’t deserve this for loving who she loved. 

Remus scoffed when Sirius wouldn’t back down and stormed up to the boy's dormitory. Sirius knelt before her and lifted her head from her lap. His thumbs wiped away the tears, and he took her into his arms. So much built-up pain, built-up trauma, built-up lies. She was finally crumbling like a tower on an unsteady foundation. Y/n was a one-hundred-story tower that was collapsing from the bottom up. 

Debris falling everywhere and soot clouding the atmosphere. He could see the smog slipping in her mind, clouding up her judgment and thoughts. Sirius could see the debris cluttering and scraping away at her heart. With every scrap and every tear, her heart began to give out. It felt like being crushed in an elevator, with no room to breathe and no room for moving. She was stuck, and that was it. 

Y/n couldn’t remember much after feeling Sirius’ lips on the top of her head. But she woke up on the plush of the common room couch. The rough maroon fabric was felt beneath her fingertips. Beside her was a boy in an armchair. He was curled up, and a black fleece blanket covered his body from the coldness of the Gryffindor common room. 

Beside her was a glass of water and a note. She picked up the water and allowed it to glide down her throat, soothing the ache from her earlier crying. Her nose still felt stuffy, and she willed herself to sniffle quietly, trying not to wake the boy beside her. The parchment was ripped at the edges and was written in beautiful calligraphy. 

"Il y a toujours des ténèbres avant que la lumière brille."

She folded the note and placed it back on the side table with the empty glass. The fire had gone out fully in the common room, allowing the temperature in the room to fall. It was cold, dry, and dark. Y/n had never seen the common room so dark. Not a candle was lit, and no light was shining from the windows. Just the slightest bit of moonlight. Gently she stood up and reached for the boy's hand in the armchair. 

“Reggie.” Her voice was smooth and soft, “Reg.”

He stirred and opened his eyes to meet his girlfriend's warm ones. Sirius had rushed to the Slytherin common room despite all prejudice. Some of the Slytherins spat at him when he asked for the password. It took ten people before Regulus finally answered to the incessant knocking. He was shocked to be met with his older brother. 

There Sirius had told him what happened, how Remus had shoved his sister against the wall accusing her of betraying him for dating him. Regulus felt ashamed. He didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t get to be civil with each other. Sirius even uttered the exact words Remus had, “She isn’t my sister. She’ll never be my sister again.” Regulus had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying anything. 

People stared at the younger Black brother as he walked into the Gryffindor common room. The Gryffindor’s glared, spat, and insulted, but he didn’t care. He found his girlfriend lying on the couch with a thick red blanket surrounding her. Sirius had claimed that Marlene had brought it for her, and Sirius had been the one to move her to the couch. Regulus saw the dried tear stains, the swollen eyes, and the bruised lip. 

“It wasn’t pretty.” Sirius had muttered, “Remus isn’t one to hold back.”

Regulus smoothed her hair back, “This is because of me….”

“Reg, no.” Sirius had replied, “Remus will come around. He just doesn’t know how to digest this.”

The common room was silent, and Regulus just held her hand. His thumb stroked the back of her hand softly. Sirius watched as Regulus went through a wave of emotions. He was hurt, confused, concerned, and terrified. It was like watching the seasons go by. Watching everything welt, die, grow back and prosper just to repeat the cycle. It was like watching a new book turn into an old one as the ink was embedded onto the pages, the papers getting folded, tabs being placed, and the spine being cracked. 

Regulus appeared to be a sleek hardcover book, but she was his person. She turned him into a used paperback. One with highlighting, tabs, folded pages, a cracked spine, and a loved cover. His heart beat for her. She was the reason he woke up every morning, the reason he ate, the reason he got good marks. She was his reason. 

“I tried talking sense into him.” Sirius confessed quietly, “He just brought up the incident in fifth year.”

Regulus closed his eyes tightly and tried to withhold his tears, “Maybe I should talk to him.”

“No.” Sirius said sternly, “You’ll be asking for death.”

“What do I do, Sirius?” 

His blue-grey eyes were glittering with desperation, “Nothing… Take care of her.” 

With that, Sirius left a kiss on his younger brother's head and left the common room, retreating to the dormitory. Regulus sighed and placed his forehead on the back of her hand. Tears slipped from his eyes and onto the material of the couch. Everyone was gone at that point. The common room wholly cleared and the fire slowly decaying in the fireplace as Regulus Black finally allowed himself to break. 

He woke up on an armchair with a soft thick black blanket covering his limbs. Red rimmed e/c eyes met his blue-grey ones, and he felt a wave of relief. Y/n reached her hand out, and Regulus took it, keeping the blanket around his shoulders as she brought him to her dormitory. The girls were sleeping, and Y/n sat down on her bed, Regulus doing the same. She drew the curtains and muttered a silencing spell. 

Regulus laid with his head on her pillow, pulling her to lay on his chest. He wrapped the fuzzy black blanket around them. Y/n nuzzled into his side, and he placed a kiss on the top of her head. They didn’t need to exchange words for expressing how they felt. They knew how the other felt. There was no need on elaborating. She fell asleep not too long after, and Regulus laid awake trying of solutions. 

Even when the sun broke the horizon, Regulus still had nothing. 

They continued the year like this. Remus and Y/n didn’t speak at all anymore. Remus went as far as to change his schedule and ignore the sweets left on his bedside after the full moons. Sirius would pretend it came from him, but Remus still would budge. He would chuck the chocolate in the trash even though he knew that Y/n barely had money in the first place to buy it. He’d dump the hot chocolate in the waste bin and smash the mug to get out any frustration. 

Sirius thought that the worst part was Remus never grieved for his sister. He never saw Remus cry or get upset about what he did. It was like Remus had no remorse for what he did. Sirius had grieved. He had sobbed in the midst of twilight with shit silencing charms. Sirius had wailed and clutched his blanket close to his chest, hoping it would soothe the aching of his heart. 

When they graduated, Remus didn’t look for his sister in the crowd. He didn’t care if she was there or not, but she was. Y/n was there holding Regulus’ hand tightly, watching her brother shake Dumbledore’s hand. She watched as Sirius embraced Regulus in a tight hug in the shadows. Y/n smiled bittersweetly at their embrace as Regulus took her hand back in his. 

Sirius began to open his mouth, “No need to lie. I know he doesn’t care if I was here or not.”

Y/n shuffled on her feet, and Sirius took her into his arms. Sirius was shorter than Regulus, and he didn’t smell the same, but his hugs were just as comforting in a brotherly way. His hand caressed her hair, and Sirius couldn’t help the way his heart ached. He shouldn’t be the one hugging her, Remus should, but he isn’t. Sirius kissed her forehead and released her from his hug. 

“I’ll write to you guys.” 

“Don’t get into too much trouble.” Y/n replied with tear-filled eyes, “I can’t imagine you gone.”

Sirius smirked, “Yes, ma’am. Don’t you know I always obey the rules?”

“She’s being real, Sirius.” Regulus didn’t crack a smile, “This war isn’t a joke, and I’d- I’d like to see you next year when I graduate.”

“I’ll be there.” Sirius said solemnly, “I won’t leave you guys. They won’t take me alive.”

Y/n cracked a smile, “Good.”

Regulus nudged his girlfriend, and she wiped the tears from her cheeks, “Protect him. He gets reckless and forgets about himself. Don’t let him do anything stupid.” 

Sirius could still hear Remus’ voice in their first Order meeting, “I swear on all Merlin if they touch her, they’ll be sorry.” 

“‘Course. Don’t forget he’s still my boyfriend.” Sirius replied, and Y/n smiled, “‘S why I’m asking you and not James. Keep- Keep my brother safe, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They joined the Order of the Phoenix without looking back. Remus, James, Sirius, and Peter quickly became some of the best Aurors of the Ministry of Magic. Sirius had made the Daily Prophet multiple for putting Death Eaters in Azkaban. Many citizens of the Wizarding community thought of him as the next Alastor Moody. 

Seventh year was the worst one yet. Most of the Slytherin Death Eaters were attacking the younger kids. Most of the older Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs had to defend them from the unforgivable curses. It seemed normal to hear the crucio curse being thrown away and seeing green flashes. It made Y/n sick to her stomach. 

It got so surreal that Y/n and Regulus had begun sleeping behind tapestries or hidden tunnels. Dormitories and common rooms were no longer safe. Their backs ached, and body’s sore from lying on concrete, but it was better than dying. Graduation was not a celebration, and no one from outside was allowed in, but Sirius waited for them at Kings Cross. 

The next time Y/n saw Remus was when she was being sworn into the Order, and he barely spared her a glance. Not long after the speech was being spoken, another person entered the meeting point. He was shockingly familiar with wavy black hair and blue-grey eyes. Remus jumped out of his seat, and James had to hold him back. Regulus released a breath and stood beside his girlfriend. 

“Now. I’m sure there’s a lot of confusion.” Dumbledore began calmly, “Regulus has sworn to be our spy.”

Remus growled, “He’s a Death Eater.”

“Exactly.” Remus glared at the old Professor, “Therefore, he can enter and participate in their meetings. Then he can come back here and report what he knows.” 

“I don’t like it any more than you do.” Regulus said, “I don’t want to put anyone in danger, but someone needs to do it.”

Remus went to speak, but Regulus cut him off, “Someone needs to protect your sister.”

Everyone stared in shock at the bold statement that came from the young Black brother's mouth, and Remus leaped from his seat, “She is a traitor. Just like you.”

Instinctively Regulus moved her behind him as Remus was now face to face with him, “She’s everything but. Wasn’t she the one who stopped Fenrir Greyback from killing you?”

“Shut up.”

“Wasn’t she the one who cleaned your wounds after the full moons before the Marauders?” 

“I’m warning you.”

“Wasn’t she the one who used to make you hot chocolate when the nightmares got too bad that you couldn’t sleep?”

Remus snapped, and Sirius pulled him away from Regulus. But they all saw how Y/n cowered when he lunged forward, how she flinched back, covering her face with her hands. Regulus kept a tight hold on her hand, and they watched as Sirius calmed Remus down, bringing him upstairs. When Remus was gone, Dumbledore spoke again. 

“Well, the first Order meeting will be announced in just a couple of days. It allows Y/n and Regulus to get in their positions.” Dumbledore announced, “It allows Y/n to get some training and Regulus to get Voldemort’s trust.”

Everyone dispersed. Y/n and Regulus apparated to a flat they had bought in London. It was relatively modern for the time and had everything they needed. The place was clean and brand new. When they landed in the living room, she went straight to the bedroom. Regulus prepared her a hot drink and set it at her bedside table with a warming charm. He laid beside her, placing her head on his heart. 

“Je Vous Aime.” His french accent was so smooth and gentle, like a baby blanket, “Je t'aime aussi.”

Everything just got more stressful as time passed. Regulus’ job got more and more dangerous, making Y/n worry profusely. It got to times where they had to pretend to throw curses back and forth so he could prove that he was loyal to them. It wasn’t until a rumor of a spy for the Death Eaters came out that Regulus’ job became crucial. It took three more meetings, and on October 15th Regulus knew who it was. 

He could remember the day vividly how Voldemort welcomed Peter Pettigrew to the Death Eaters with open arms. Regulus had stared in mock happiness but, in reality, had been shocked. Someone so close to the Potters had gone and betrayed him. So when Peter was absent from one meeting, Regulus brought it up. 

“They spy is Pettigrew.”

“No.” James chuckled, “You’re lying, right?”

Regulus shook his head, “He plans to kill you, Lily, and Harry on Halloween.”

Everyone stiffened. The air was tense, but Dumbledore smiled victoriously, “Beautiful work, Regulus. We’ll apprehend Pettigrew when he’s seen again.”

They had set up a false meeting where Peter got sent to Azkaban only two days later after Regulus announced he was the traitor. That sparked the war between them, and this time, Regulus was on the right side, the side he always wanted to be on. A week later, and on Halloween, Voldemort was dead. Many people's lives were lost, but many were saved. 

After the war, Remus had proposed to Sirius, and yet Y/n was still not invited to the wedding. Sirius had begged Remus to make amends with her. The war was over. This nonsense was not needed anymore. But Remus was stubborn, and Y/n was too afraid to approach him, so James gave her the invisibility cloak to watch her brother marry. Not the ideal way she planned on watching her brother and his love get married. 

A couple of months later, Regulus and Y/n did the same. Except they did it alone, with Sirius being their only witness and the person marrying them. Sirius couldn’t help but feel awful for Remus not being able to walk her down the aisle, not to see her in the pretty dress she had picked out. It wasn’t until fifteen years later when Y/n had two teenage boys, and a little girl did someone came knocking on her door during the winter holidays. 

Both boys were running around the house, and their little sister was trying to keep up. Two twin boys who were fifteen - Romeo and Romulus. A little girl who was just about ten named Ascella. Romulus was a carbon copy of Sirius. Romeo had the Lupin sandy hair and the Black family eyes with the Black family defined face. He was the best of both worlds. Ascella looked like a female Regulus. 

Romeo was the Keeper of the Slytherin house for Quidditch. Romulus played Beater for Gryffindor, and little Ascella would get her Hogwarts letter in just about a year. Regulus and Y/n both predicted she’d be in Gryffindor with her brave, mischievous nature. Y/n was the one to get the door with her two boys behind her. Ascella had been called into the living room by her father. 

Y/n was shocked to meet familiar green eyes, “Um- hi.”

“Hey.” Remus said nervously, scratching the back of his head, “I hope I’m not intruding.”

Both boys behind her looked confused, “Mum, who is this?”

A pang of hurt hit Remus, “This- This is my brother.”

“Brother?” Romulus questioned, “Like he’s our uncle?”

“Yes.” Y/n retorted, “Now you boys grab your sister. Go do something upstairs while we talk, yeah?” 

Romeo looked crestfallen, “Mum, we aren’t five.”

“I know, but we have a lot of talking to do.”

Romeo sighed, “Fine but be safe.” 

She kissed the tops of their heads, “Of course.”

Ascella was running to her brothers within seconds after Romulus called for her. Remus saw her black hair flutter around as she followed her brothers up the steps. Y/n smiled and motioned for Remus to come inside. The house was lovely and decorated for the holidays. Y/n walked through the hallway to the living room, and Remus followed. 

“I apologize for the mess.” She chuckled, “Having the boys home makes the house messy.”

Remus saw the pictures on the wall, “A Slytherin and a Gryffindor.”

Y/n smiled, “Yep. Romeos the Slytherin, and Romulus is the Gryffindor. We have a feeling Ascella will be in Gryffindor too.”

He placed the picture back down and sighed, “Merlin, what did I miss?”

Regulus was still stiff and stern, “A lot if you couldn’t tell already. That’s what happens when you call your sister a traitor and decide to disown her.”

All three children were listening secretly and grimaced at their father's words, “But don’t worry. I’ve done your job. I’ve been there for her, protected her, and made sure she was happy.” Regulus snapped, “And Sirius did your job of being the children’s uncle.”

“He didn’t even tell me you guys had kids.” Remus muttered, “‘Course he didn’t. In case you don’t remember, you didn’t want anything to do with us.” Regulus retorted. 

The children had never heard their father speak this way with so much ice in his words. Regulus was blunt and unapologetic, “We wanted you to be a part of our family, Remus, we really did. But we didn’t know how you’d feel.” Y/n informed. 

“Plus, the last time you saw us, you tried to kill Regulus.” Ascella covered her ears, and Romeo ushered them to his room to stop listening, “Yeah, so forgive us for not inviting you to be a part of our family.”

Regulus punctuated his statement by putting his arm around Y/n’s waist, “I’m sorry.” Remus murmured. 

“I’m really sorry for how I acted. It was immature and stupid of me.” He continued, “I didn’t know how to feel when I heard my sister was with a Death Eater at the time, and I was just scared.”

Y/n stood up and hugged him, “Remus. What you did isn’t going to be forgiven. I’m sorry.”

He had tears glazing in his emerald green eyes that dulled with age, “I know we were young, but that doesn’t excuse the words you said or how you acted. Trying to kill my husband and saying god awful things about me.”

Y/n took her seat beside Regulus, and Remus sniffled, “You did this. Not us.” Regulus reminded, and Remus nodded. 

“Okay, I just- I’ll go.” Remus stood up from his seat and walked down the hallway to the front door; he took in every family portrait. 

When he got to the door, Y/n opened it for him, and he walked out, “Remus.”

He turned, and Y/n hugged him one last time. His chin rested on top of her head, breathing in her shampoo that still hadn’t changed since third year. The same perfume from fourth year. Her arms fit around him just the same way as they had when they were little children running around the lake. Y/n kissed his cheek and released herself from his embrace. 

“I may not be your sister.” Y/n repeated with tear-filled eyes, and Remus allowed the tears to fall; her two boys were standing beside her, “But you’ll always be my brother.”

The door had closed, and Remus decided that that was the end of his chapter. He had underlined, circled, highlighted, and folded every significant page, but this was the end of the chapter. He was flipping to the next page, where the new chapter began. The new chapter where he had to live without his sister or his niece and nephews. 

Remus always loved fragile, cracked paperbacks. 

[cdroloisms]

I have seen a few fanfics with this premise, so now I wanna see your hands drabble with it. AU where everything is the same except nobody knows that Dream is actually the youngest member of the SMP at 14-15 years old. Bonus points, revived Wilbur figures it out and makes some plans for how to use this knowledge to his advantage.

ooh yeah !! this au is one of my favorites - it’s a really interesting examination on the mindset of different characters in the server, plus just fun for just Angst Purposes. this is a little messy but i hope you like it! 

tw: abuse, torture mentions, broken bones, branding mentions, trauma, emotional distress, unhealthy relationship, unhealthy coping mechanisms, smoking, mental illness, panic attack, mentioned death, dark portrayals of ,, most of the server, prison arc/pandora’s vault 

“Hey. Thought I’d find you here.”

Wilbur turns at the familiar voice at his back, smiling.

“Dream,” he pulls him in to clap him on the back, ignoring the other’s full-body flinch at his movements. “How’ve you been, man?”

“Don’t pull that bullshit on me,” Dream’s words are biting, but he smiles as he says them - a small, bitter thing that stretches over his scarred skin. His new mask is pulled to the side of his face, exposing the dark bags beneath his grey-green eyes, the varied scars that fall over the bridge of his nose and under his jaw to trace down his neck below his collar. Wilbur watches him as he walks forward to stand by his side with a small spark of fascination, enhanced further when Dream’s eyes narrow at him. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing- nothing,” Wilbur laughs. “They just really did quite a number on you, huh?”

Dream stiffens, then rolls his eyes. “Well, he did have seventy four days, or so I’ve been told,” he quips back, words dry. “Not that there was any keeping track in that hellhole.”

“Speak for yourself,” Wilbur smiles tightly, amusement coloring his words as the other scowls. “I kep track of my thirteen years quite well.”

“Whatever you say, old man,” Dream huffs. “You have a cigarette?”

“I almost feel bad, y’know. You’re kind of underage, man,” Wilbur feels his smile widen when Dream glares up at him, eyes glinting dangerously from behind his eyelashes. “I don’t know if I should.”

“I was younger when you gave me one the first time,” Dream retorts immediately, not bothering to hide his annoyance, sharp-edged and acidic. “And even younger when you drafted child soldiers to fight in a war for your own glory. Don’t make me laugh.”

“Ouch, really know how to hit a man where it hurts, don’t you?” Wilbur mimes pressing a hand to his heart like he’s been shot with one hand, the other fishing through his jacket pocket for his pack. Dream rolls his eyes again, but stretches a hand out for him to press a cigarette and a lighter in his palm.

“Learned from the best,” Dream drawls, going quiet as he focuses on holding the end in the flame and then pulling the lit cigarette to his lips. He chokes, as he always does, on the first drag, sputtering slightly as the smoke seizes in his chest like a puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit, and Wilbur watches the little flickering light at the end of the stick in his hand as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Surprised I can stand the sight of these things,” Dream says suddenly, quietly, as Wilbur pulls out one of his own to light. He looks up, meeting Wilbur’s quizzical look with a faraway one of his own. “Quackity was a fan of making me his personal ashtray.”

He reaches up towards his collar, pulling it away slightly to reveal a collection of puckered circular burn scars that dot the skin of his shoulder to trace to the edge of his collarbone. Wilbur hums in vague sympathy and acknowledgement, breathing in a drag of his cigarette slow and smooth and feeling the smoke fill his lungs.

“Guess it didn’t make the cut of torture methods bad enough to become a trigger,” he laughs, sharp, the bitter punctuation of a joke he’d realized would fall flat halfway through speaking and fidgets awkwardly with the cigarette in his hand as he looks off into the distance. “I should make a tierlist. It could be...useful.”

The words are empty - Dream wouldn’t be able to stomach torturing anyone and they both know it; Wilbur cocks his head to the side curiously, deciding to press the point anyway.

“Useful?” He takes a deliberately heavy drag, blowing the smoke out slowly from his lips and watching as Dream flinches away from it. “How so?”

Dream keeps looking stubbornly away, the only indication he’s heard at all being the way his lips press tighter together. Wilbur laughs softly.

“You mean with Big Q, don’t you?” Dream’s hand, which never seemed to stop trembling since he’d left Pandora, starts shaking harder, the smoke rising from the cigarette clutched tightly between his fingers making a jagged pattern in the air. “I won’t judge man! He tortured you for- what, 72 days?”

“74,” Dream’s shoulders rise to his ears, his head pitching forward as his arms wrap around his torso in a futile attempt to hold himself, “74 fucking days, and no one gave a single shit.”

Wilbur hums, encouraging, trying to tamp down his curiosity from making itself too obvious in his voice. Dream had been closed off for as long as Wilbur had known him, his walls only rising more after they’d pulled him out, half-starved, half-dead from the depths of the prison, newly revealed face startling young even deprived of the baby fat that would’ve otherwise lingered in its corners. For the other man to actually say something, to give more clues into his head than his usual one-word answers and bitter sarcasm - Wilbur settles in place, raising his cigarette to his lips once again. This will be interesting.

“I just-” Dream’s voice cracks, and he goes quiet, looking down at the cigarette in his hands like it’ll give him the answers he’s looking for. “I don’t understand. They’re all perfectly fine with throwing me in there and leaving me to rot, with letting Quackity come in every single day to make my life hell, but all of a sudden because I’m fifteen that changes? Because I’m a “child”? Because that makes them feel guilty?”

His grip tightens on his arm, breath seizing in his throat. “It doesn’t change a damn thing and they all know it. All of them were perfectly fine with watching me die, with sticking me in that hell, with letting Quackity- fucking-” his free hand reaches for the long tangles of his hair, the sandy locks peeking out from between his fingers, “He did- everything he could fucking think of, carved words on my goddamn back, broke every fucking bone in my body just because he could, branded his fucking NAME on me I-” he squeezes his eyes shut. “I screamed for them every single day. All seventy-fucking-four and I was still calling their names and-” Wilbur reaches towards him, watches as his head snaps away once again. “It didn’t fucking matter.”

“Dream-”

“None of it mattered. All that matters is that I’m a fucking child, that I’m fifteen fucking years old. Not that they stood by while I died twice with no means of defending myself! Not that they threw me in a fucking torture chamber! All that matters is how old I am and I fucking hate them!” He shouts, voice breaking and dissolving into a choked sob, and Wilbur watches quietly as Dream swallowed back his cries, shoulders shaking silently. “I- I hate them. All of them. At least Quackity still treats me like normal- the rest of them just look at me with this- this stupid pity, I don’t need their pity, I don’t need anything from them, not anymore-”

“Dream. Look at me.” Dream’s head snaps over, fear flashing in the backs of his eyes before it disappears as fast as it came. Wilbur ignores it, shucking off his jacket and draping it carefully over the other’s shoulders. “They’re hypocrites, I know. That’s why we’re doing this, yeah? We’re blowing it all up to kingdom come. You know how it goes.”

Dream meets his eyes, a storm warring briefly over his face before he looks down. “It was never meant to be,” he says, sounding tired, sounding resigned, and Wilbur smiles darkly at the self-same bitterness that shadows the words, recognizing the ashy taste from when they had coated his own tongue.

“Atta boy,” he says, grip firm on the other’s shoulder. “See you tomorrow. You can keep the coat for tonight; it’s getting cold.”

“Thank you,” Dream murmurs, quiet, and they both know it’s about more than just the jacket. “See you tomorrow.”

[foodieforthoughts]

Journey through time - Part 4

Summary: Your relationship with Syverson over the years.

Warning: Super fluff, get ready to grab tissues for your tears of joy

A/N: This got out of hand and I fantasized too much about wedding with Sy 😅 second-last part to go for this photo series (adding part 1, part 2 and part 3 for anyone who wants to read). Images taken from Pinterest and Google, if there are any inaccuracies please ignore because it is fictional.

Since Sy only had ten weeks until his next deployment, the preparation for the wedding was in full swing. He wanted a military wedding, proud as he was about his army life and since Syverson men were all in the army themselves, he wanted to stick to his family tradition. But the hurried wedding meant the army chappel was unavailable. His father suggested the wedding to take place in Austin, offering his house for the ceremony and since your parents did not mind, it was decided that you both will have your autumn wedding in the backyard of the house where he grew up.

You had sneakily asked Sy about his preferred wedding dress style. "I like the long ball gown type, you know, where you would look like a princess." He had suggested, smirking at you and seeing through your trick to find out about his liking. "And you would be the prince at the altar, in your uniform with the saber?" You always ended up sobbing when you thought about the wedding, making Sy cuddle you while assuring you he would do everything in his power to give you the best life possible. With his mother, your own mom and your cousins, you had shopped for dresses until you found the one which had all the ladies reaching for the box of tissues.

Since he was going to wear his uniform for the wedding, Sy couldn't keep the beard. The day Sy had to shave off his beard, you had tried to stifle your laughter while he had whined like a child. He had grown too attached to his facial hair, saying "This is a part of me, feels like I'm getting rid of a limb." Rest of the day you had to hear him complain about looking like a kid, having you to assure him in many ways how he was a man. It was also the day you were leaving to stay at the hotel, since seeing the bride before the wedding was bad luck and you did not want to take any chances. Sy took his time in relishing every moment spent with you, up until the time you had to leave, making you grab your discarded clothes in a hurry while your dad was waiting downstairs in the car.

You had never seen Sy cry, not even when you had made him watch sappy emotional movies. But when you walked down the aisle with your father by your side, in the soft autumn sunlight you saw your man's eyes glisten with tears. You couldn't hold in yours when you laid eyes on him, looking royal in his dress blues with his medals and ribbons decorating his chest. Sy's best man tapped him on his shoulder, saying something which made him nod along with his buddy. "You look beautiful." He had whispered to you when you came to stand next to him, making you blush more than you already were. You could barely speak while reciting your vows, taking a moment to breathe through the tears, finally getting it out with sniffles and wiping under your eyes as a stray tear escaped. When Sy kissed you as your husband, your world exploded and in that very instant you knew your life couldn't get any better.

The wedding reception was a blast. Your first dance with your husband was a tear-jerking moment for both of you. While you had unapologetically cried on his shoulder, Sy had sniffed his welling tears away. By the end of the night, you were tipsy with wine and Sy was getting his friends drunk. You had blushed beet-red when Sy had crawled under your gown to take your garter off effortlessly with his teeth, with everyone cheering on. After the reception, Sy had carried you to your room, pausing in the corridor for a kiss and then entering the room with you cradled in his arms. Giggling as the alcohol made you giddy, you had pulled Sy towards you on the bed by the lapel of his tux and commanded, "We're not getting any younger, Sy, take me as your wife and make me a mother." And Sy had followed your command obediently, taking you countless times in the night until the sun was up.

You and Sy escaped to Hawaii for your honeymoon with sandy beaches and salty air. The days were spent with you mostly lounging on the sand while Sy would take a swim. When you both weren't out at the beach or exploring the island, Sy would keep you busy by satiating his hunger for your body. Nights were spent with lots of cuddles and talks about the future, where you found out Sy was planning to leave the army for you. "As much as I hate to say goodbye to you, I don't want to be the reason why you let go of something you love to do." You had said, laying on his chest and playing with his fuzzy hair. "We'll figure it out together." He had answered, pulling your face up to him and taking your lips for a long kiss.

Sy always joked his beard grew faster than the speed of light. Before you knew it, your captain was back to looking like the rugged handsome hunk you had bumped into. One morning he was trimming the unruly fluff of his beard when you stormed inside the bathroom, holding your hand over your mouth. Dropping down on your knees you were emptying the contents of your stomach in the toilet, as waves of nausea washed over you. Sy was right by your side, rubbing his hand over your back and holding your hair away from your face. "Sy, I don't know I have a feeling we are going to get a jumpstart on your big family dream." Sy had laughed but when you took a test later in the day, he was left speechless. You had stared at him, waving your hand in front of his face while his eyes focused far off. But then he had hugged you so tightly, you were afraid you were going to run out of air. "I'm going to be a dad." He had kissed you before bending down to your belly and placing a gentle kiss on your stomach.

Before you knew it, it was time for Sy to leave again. But unlike last time, you were brave. You understood Sy had a lot to deal with once he was out there, you didn't want to pile your grief of parting ways on top of his worries. Still, somedays were difficult for you when you had to battle morning sickness alone, crying while clutching the toilet hoping if only Sy were there to comfort you. You tried not to tell him that though, while you talked on the phone you only listened to him as he described funny things that happened around camp. One day, out of the blue you got a call from him, dread filled you because Sy wasn't one to call in the middle of the day. Hearing his voice calmed you down because you had expected the worst possible news. "They are pulling out the troops from here." He had said, his voice buoyant with excitement. "I'm coming home, baby."

One would think being the captain in the army and taking care of men under his command, Sy would be reasonably calm about his impending parenthood. But it was the complete opposite and Sy was a mess. He was always making sure you were comfortable, feeding you until you were sure you were going to burst and most of all, fussing about getting the nursery ready on time. He had built a crib from scratch, being awfully proud about his handiwork while you had watched the carpenter in him come to life. He did practice rounds of driving to the hospital for when you went into labor, timing it like he was performing a drill, sometimes driving you insane by repeating it again and again. In the night, he would massage your painfully swollen ankles while you read him from a parenting book, laughing while he joked how he's not going to be this fussy for the next one. "Next one? This bun isn't even out of the oven yet and you are already planning on mixing the dough for the next batch." He would grin at you mischievously and very slyly say, "You see, mixing the dough is my favorite part." And the day when finally baby Adeline was born, Sy had cried like he had never before.

Continued to Part 5

[oumaheroes]

Earthbound: Gabriel’s Story

Written for @needcake, whose wonderful and ongoing encouragement has spurred me to explore new directions.

Context: Hundreds of years after the fall of Earth, mankind is slowly starting to return. Some people have a stronger urge to return than others, confused by fragments of memories from a life already lived.

Word Count: 3570

Characters: Portugal

Arthur’s story can be found here.

Matthew’s story can be found here.

---

Gabriel is six.  He’s at the doctor’s, which he doesn’t think that he deserves, and to protest this offense he does not answer when he is spoken to.

‘Gabriel? Can you answer some questions for me?’

The lady doctor looks nice enough; she doesn’t look scary but that’s not the point and Gabriel presses his lips together and picks up a plastic shape. It’s solid and brightly coloured and he has some like this at home. He likes to build with them, usually, when he can get them from the other kids for long enough, and on the rare occasions he’s left alone with them undisturbed he builds high high towers and pretends they’re castles.

He turns this one, red and smooth, over in his hands and lays it on the small plastic table he is knelt in front of with finality. It will be a part of a dungeon.

‘He’s always like this,’ His foster mummy Anita speaks from behind him, over his head, ‘he has these funny moods where he won’t speak at all, and then when he’s not eating it just gets worse. Never had a kid like him.’

Gabriel feels his presence swallowed softly underneath her words as the conversation passes over and around him as if he were not there. He picks up another shape. This one is round at the edges and is blue. It can go at the top.

The Doctor gently taps the table by his elbow. He turns to find her crouched next to him; eyes slightly too wide behind large glasses. She smiles, ‘What are you building?’

He shrugs.

‘Ah,’ She ponders the beginnings of his construction with interest, ‘Well, the biggest I’ve seen someone build with these is about this big,’ she gestures with her hands to her chest and Gabriel is forced to look at her.

That is quite high.

‘I can go bigger.’

The doctor raises an eyebrow sceptically, ‘I don’t know,’ she says, ‘the girl who built it didn’t have to go home for dinner.’

‘I don’t have to go home for dinner,’ Gabriel retorts, immediately. Mummy Anita scoffs and Gabriel flushes, looking away.

‘Do you not like dinner?’ the doctor prompts, softly.

Gabriel shrugs again.

‘I don’t like Option 3,’ the doctor says. She reaches under the table and picks up another shape -yellow, a triangle- and puts it near him.  Might be a good turret ceiling, if they leave him alone to build high enough, ‘that’s what I hate. But my favourite is Option 17.’

‘I don’t like any of them.’

‘No? You must like one of them, there are so many!’

Gabriel shakes his head and continues to stack shapes, ‘they all taste funny.’

‘Funny?’ the doctor glances at Mummy Anita who shrugs.

‘None of the other kids say that. We’ve had the machine checked out- I eat from it. It’s fine. Even tried him on other machines but he says they all taste funny.’

The doctor looks back at him and he tries to look unbothered by their discussion, ‘Why do you think food from meal machines tastes funny? What’s strange about the food?’

It’s an easy enough question, but one that Gabriel can’t really answer- not even to himself.

The best way he can describe it is that food from machines just tastes wrong.

All meals come from food machines. They’re in every home and school and all taste the same; a catalogue copy of meals for everyone to have. But there’s a dryness to everything, something that sticks bland and metallic in his mouth and no matter which out of the many hundreds of options he tries, Gabriel hates them all. There’s something wrong about them, he thinks, something unnatural that he never wants to taste, no matter how used to it he knows he should be. Food from machines is all he’s ever eaten.

They don’t grow things on his colony; vegetables or fruits or grain. There’s no room in the towering stacks of buildings, stretching into the dusty orange sky. The colony is a jumble of things, a jungle bleached colourless and lifeless despite the scattering of people that scrabbled through its warrens.

There is no room for fields here. No farms for cattle to roam. The machines feed them: food materialised from the collective memory of humanity. Gabriel has heard in the playground at school that other human colonies, the ones further off into space where their communications cannot reach, make their own food from scratch, like the people of the olden times of Earth. This seems bizarre to him. What difference would it make, if you made a meal from things instead of a machine? All of their neighbouring colonies do the same as they do and this is all anyone of them have ever known.

Either way, the taste is lifeless and empty so Gabriel avoids eating as much as possible, giving in only when his tummy hurts with an ache that needs to be filled with something, anything, before it will think of going away.

He doesn’t know how to put this into words, so he turns away and adds another block to his tower, hoping that the adults will leave him alone. The doctor on his side sighs and taps something into her e-tab, looking back over at Mummy Anita.

The conversation begins again, over his head, and Gabriel slips away.

When Gabriel is thirteen when he realises that something about him isn’t quite right. It’s not his problem with food, although that has never improved, things taste as stilted now as they ever have done. No matter what meal option he tries, and no matter from which machine, there is the same blandness to everything, a cotton covering that prevents him from tasting what everyone else says he should.

But lack of taste is the least of his concerns.

The word most used to describe him by adults is ‘unfocused.’

This isn’t something he thinks is fair, but he understands how they think that, he supposes. He can often be found staring out of a window or escaping off into space, eyes glassy and face slack. He doesn’t agree with the term ‘unfocused’ because Gabriel is very focused on doing just that.

Escaping.

It is easy. So very, very easy. Like a quick breath in, he can switch off today effortlessly and take himself away somewhere, mind’s eye overlaying reality to wash his surrounds bright and true and better. He can take himself to a place so perfect it can only exist in his mind- soft sandy beaches in front of scrubby mountainsides that soar and roll up and down in sharp curves, all under a sky so blue it burns. Cyan rivers wend down corridors and curl around the legs of his classmates, a cliff face leans out of the drop of a window, a dark cupboard hides the maw of the unknown- damp caves that drip drip drip with depth and cool his older, sun-burnt skin.

If he closes his eyes and truly does focus, he can go even further- bite down and taste Brazilian gold, hard and cold as it hits his teeth to send shivers of warning up his spine. A dropped pencil or a creak of a floorboard snaps into the crackle of a fire, hot and close and his mouth waters with the promise of flame kissed meat and the smell of woodsmoke.

As much as he enjoys this, he realises it is a problem because it is not something that anyone else does. Not anymore, at least, and never as well. Children used to play pretend, of course, when they were younger- it was normal. Gabriel always seemed to be the best at it, somehow, better able to call to mind a place for their games with a vivacity no one else could hope to compare to and it was fun- something he excelled in. He made all of their games, a playmaker in setting the stage and lifting another world to blanket the dusty playground and wrap them all in colours.

But his friends have grown out of such things. Their thirst for the imaginary cooled and then tapered off entirely whilst Gabriel’s hunger for it only grew and grew until he could travel miles in the blink of an eye, drumming fingers playing a marching song to set the pace and propel him onwards.

Why be here when he can be elsewhere? Why would he ever choose otherwise, when elsewhere was a paradise unlike any other. Any colour, any texture, any smell or taste, and all blended and whirled together to spill a storm of yearning through his waking days.

Maybe he could write, he thinks. He is sixteen and thinks that, maybe this is why he does this. Maybe this is something that is normal after all, if he can put what he is feeling to paper and share it with others. If it is productive, it is good, after all. If it creates something tangible, if it is something that others can use and enjoy then it is something worthy; it has value. When it is just for him, it is strange; adults watching with dark and wary eyes, muttering condemnations that shackle him with labels.

It is the way of things.

But writing is harder than it looks. Words only describe so much and are too flat, too rigid to encompass the entirety of what he feels and sees. On paper, the world of his daydreams regresses to shapes like the coloured blocks he used to love as a child- useful for building something, yes, but ultimately something controlled and solid, changeable but unmoving and limited. Gabriel’s imagination isn’t like this, it is constantly new and fluid, forever showing him more and more and more with a detail words can never capture, never truly express.

He dreams of orchards, of fruit so orange and full and clear to him that he can see the speckles of dust in the dips of its skin, the dew that sits on the leaves in the morning. He feels himself, brown, large hand scarred with mistakes and history, close about it and pull; feels the tension as it resists on the branch before a gasp of a break. The leaves of the tree swing back and the fruit is full and firm and he can taste it, taste how full it will be when he peels back the skin and bites down to flood his mouth with sweetness.

He feels air that is cool and tastes of salt, wind that pushes and tugs at his clothes, of a floor of wood that moves and bucks in angry waters of grey and blue. Unknown jungles where the air is thick and hot, arid plains where the sun scorches the rocks, and damp misty hills that whistle ancient secrets across the miles and twist his heart until it breaks.

What is that.

Why is that.

He doesn’t know.

When Gabriel is eighteen, the foster home he is in releases him.

‘You can stay, if you want,’ Anita gives him a measured look, up and down, from beneath her eyelashes, ‘but you’ll need to start paying rent. Benefits stop for you now so I can’t keep you about for free.’

Gabriel blinks at her, ‘But, I don’t have a job.’

Anita’s face remains impassive, ‘Then you’ll have to find one.’

‘How?’ he is angry, all of a sudden. Older children had never stuck about after their eighteenth birthday but he always imagined that they had left of their own accord, that they couldn’t wait to leave. Now he wonders how many of them were forced out, where they went, ‘I’ve never had one before.’

‘Your school should do something about helping you find one. Or, here,’ she reaches into her desk drawer and pulls out her e-tab. The paint of the old thing is chipped but it still works; the screen flashes bright and the contrast with the dark office room washes her face flat and white in the glow. After a moment, she holds out the tab to him, ‘there are some programmes about. Take a look at them and sign up to some.’

Gabriel doesn’t take it and her arm hangs there, suspended and stiff between them. Eventually, she sets down the tab and pushes it towards him, ‘I’ll give you two months, if you want to stay. You should be able to find something in that time.’

‘What do I do if I can’t find anything?’ there is a tightness in his chest. He does not like it here, does not really even like her but the taste of betrayal is thick on his tongue and catches in the back of his throat to prick at his lungs, ‘what do I do? This isn’t fair.’

Anita looks at him, hard and cold, ‘Life isn’t fair. The quicker you learn that, the better off you’ll be.’ With that she motions with her head towards the door behind him and tabs on her computer, bringing it back to life.

The conversation is over.

Gabriel clenches his jaw, spins about and opens the door. The e-tab he leaves on her desk.

He moves his way through the house and out to the street. Night has fallen and the glow from their fat, orange sun hangs warm and faded behind the horizon. It looks like a painting; abstract- not real. The cut of the skyline is wrong, too sharp and small and alien all at once and he hurts with the urge to close his eyes and drift away on the tide of his dreams to somewhere better.

He can’t. He needs to do something, needs to go somewhere, needs to eat. Food machines are everywhere, but they cost money that he doesn’t have and the fear of hunger for the tasteless pushes him into the tangle of streets.

Gabriel is twenty-two. He found a job, eventually. It was the spur of the moment, out of desperation, but it’s not all that bad, in the end. He is a builder.

The monotony of manual work allows him to loosen his mind, lift himself out of his body as he lays dun-coloured bricks down in careful order, one by one by one. He builds a home under his hands but his mind is away, far far into grasses so tall they tickle his cheeks and he reconstructs himself into a reality he can control.  

This brick can be the dungeon. This brick can be a turret. Gabriel can be elsewhere.

This is enough. It is enough, he tells himself. It is more than enough; if he gets better, he can actually do that, actually build the castles of his dreams. Maybe he could be an artist, or an architect, maybe he can design a whole new colony that has fancy machines to replicate wind or bodies of water to recreate a sea deep and blue enough to have come straight from the Earth itself.

When he thinks about this too deeply, it hurts.

The ancient planet sings to him from the files of history, a stunning colourful thing that hangs suspended in time. Oh, what he would give to be there. To see the oceans and feel the grasses of fields that are somehow so very green. What he would give for the possibility see it, just once. Any part of it.

The pictures he’s seen, the videos and the stories that are collected into binary are the only things left of humanity’s original home- something so colourful and incredible that it is hauntingly impossible. Gabriel’s dreams must be modelled on it, he knows, they must have a grain of truth in them because only his imagination can compare to the flat, coded remains of Earth. Nothing man-made can be so beautiful, nothing built by mortal hands produce such unkempt beauty.

Gabriel feels like he was born in the wrong time, made and moulded to explore something older and wilder where he can go and go and go and always see something new, unending and natural. This lost opportunity, this missed moment and incorrect assignment whips a storm in his heart and brings tears to his eyes but passes, eventually. He is not a man for regret, not a man to dwell on what he cannot have and he consoles himself with the idea that maybe, one day, he can help to build a new world that rivals the one in his dreams.

When Gabriel is twenty-four, one of the human colonies fails. As the colony collapses, life systems screaming into the vacuum, the population spills into the sky, desperate to get away however they can. As one of their closest neighbours, despite the distance, Gabriel’s planet catches a lot of them.

They arrive in huge patchwork ships- cobbled together with speed, not precision. They’re falling apart and can barely cling on and the people they contain are scared, panicked things; exhausted by the constant and very near threat of death they press beseechingly into their new home. His planet is full, really, too full to take on so many but they have nowhere else to go, no place else to stop and so they flock into streets and public buildings, cawing for food and water and housing.

As a builder, Gabriel is in high demand and is immediately put to work. Hastily constructed houses spring up, growing the towns outwards and into the desert. There are no domes here- Gabriel’s planet can sustain itself and for the new arrivals this is bewildering.

Gabriel begins to talk to one of them. She is old, feather light skin wrinkled and soft, and she flutters like a bird about the building site, eager to offer help in any way she can. It’s sweet and Gabriel softens to her instantly, sensing she feels a displacement similar to what he does. A kinship of the unbelonging.

Every afternoon she arrives and as soon as his shift ends, he lowers himself to the ground and goes in search of her. They take tea together in the shade and talk existence to rights.

‘You remind me of my grandson,’ she says one day. Gabriel avoids talking about her planet or her family, or anything to do with what brought her here. He does not know what parts of it will cause her pain and he has no wish to do that to her. She must feel enough when she is alone, he knows, when she has time to mourn what she has lost and it is not his place to bring that sadness to other aspects of her day. She never offers anything and so the subject lies between them, an elephant in the void of space.

When she says this, then, he is surprised and curious, ‘Oh? How so?’

She smiles, ‘He’s a dreamer too. Always thinking of things when he should be focusing. He makes a similar face to the one you do.’

Gabriel blushes, ashamed to have been caught drifting off whilst in her company.

She sees his embarrassment and laughs, ‘Oh no, don’t worry- it’s fine. I used to love watching him float away somewhere. I used to say he was going off to Neverland.’

‘That’s a nice description for it,’ it’s an old Earthen story Gabriel was fond of growing up- a tale of a journey to somewhere else, ‘What was his name?’

‘Is,’ she corrects firmly and Gabriel nods apologetically, ‘Is. His name is Peter.’

‘Peter,’ the name fits a fellow daydreamer. The boy who never grew up. Gabriel decides to ask, tentatively, ‘Where is he?’

The old lady looks wistful, ‘Earth,’ she says with a sigh, ‘He and his parents managed to get passage to Earth but I wasn’t able to. We’re too far out to send any communication- I don’t want to think about what they believe became of me.’

Gabriel blinks once. Twice. Tries to speak, ‘Earth?’

She frowns at him, ‘Yes, don’t you know?’ Realisation hits and she shakes her head, ‘Oh, I forget that you don’t hear much this far out. Earth was declared habitable a few months ago. They’re starting a founding colony there to see if humans can survive there again.’

‘Wh- what?’

She looks at him, concerned, ‘Are you alright? You’ve gone awfully pale.’

Gabriel can’t really understand her, her voice feels like its coming from one end of an endless tunnel and his heart is hammering too loudly in his chest to focus on her. He stands, shaky, and she clutches at his shirt hem, ‘Gabriel? Gabriel, what’s wrong?’

‘I don’t know,’ his heart pounds canon fire, a boom boom boom that disorientates him. He smells smoke, smells fire, smells death, ‘I thought- I thought it was gone, Earth was gone.’

‘It was, but they travelled to investigate about a decade ago and they’ve been researching it- dear please sit down.’

She tugs at him but he shakes his head, a ghost of understanding in his mind that slips away like silk, ‘Can we go? Who can go- can I go?’

She looks scared, ‘Yes, but there’s a waiting list, you need to get your name down- Gabriel!’

---

He doesn’t wait for her to finish. He takes off into the centre of town to the public buildings, pushing his way through crowds to get there faster. He won’t waste one second more, will grab hold of what acutely feels like a delicate second chance with both hands and won't dare to let go.

AN:

This was my first time writing Portugal as a character with a voice and it was both challenging and very fun to do. There are so many amazing Portugal writers out there to inspire me and I hope I have done him justice for any of you who read this!

The full fic can be found here on A03. It doesn’t include Portugal, but explores this AU a whole lot more with a different cast of characters.

Thanks for reading!

[one-leaf-grimoire]

Medieval AU

Hi I decided to write a little something based off that knight x king au I came up with for JuLisa!

Some background: the Clover Kingdom is mostly the same, but no one has magic. It is ruled by the double monarchy as well. In a less technologically progressive society, members of all classes are able to join the Knights Squads, which are the same as in canon. However, nobles are automatically given higher ranks while commoners and peasants are seen as pawns that are often sent into battle to die. However, there is a new King who is trying to change all that, but he doesn’t expect to meet someone interesting at the annual jousting tournament...

"LISA! I DEMAND YOU STOP THIS FOOLISHNESS AT ONCE!"

The young woman looked up in surprise, her hands still running through the mane of a large horse she was preparing to climb onto. The source of the anger directed her way was none other than her captain, Fuegoleon Vermillion. The knight was almost as red in the face as his flaming locks, and he looked like he was about to pop a vein in his temple. Uh oh- she thought, already steeling herself for what was about to happen. "H-Hi, Captain. What brings you to the stables-"

"You know bloody well why I'm here!" Fuegoleon stormed over before stopping before her. He huffed through his nose, not unlike the steed Lisa was grooming. "I cannot allow you to do this."

"Do what? Participate? Sir, it'll be fine." Lisa smiled happily to herself, unfazed, before turning back to her horse to check the armor on its head. "Randall got sick, and asked for a volunteer to take his place in the joust! So, here I am."

This answer did not satisfy Fuegoleon. "Lisa... you're one of our newest members. The jousting tournament is meant for only the most experienced knights." His anger faded slightly, his voice softening with concern. "There's a real chance that... well... y-you-"

"I could die?" Lisa finished, her hands stalling for just a moment as they adjusted the straps.

"... yes. You're far too young to die," Fuegoleon agreed, pursing his lips together for a moment.

"... I disagree. Many people in this country die far younger than I am now." Despite the grim thought, Lisa smiled brightly up at her captain. "Plus, I'm not gonna die!"

Her blind enthusiasm was refreshing but still worrying to the older knight. Fuegoleon prided his squad, the Crimson Lions, and cared immensely for even the newest members like Lisa. "You've never even jousted before."

Lisa shrugged. "So? The Lance is just a bigger version of my Rapier! You poke with both of them after all." To punctuate her point, Lisa poked at the air with an invisible sword. "I'll be fine! Promise."

Fuegoleon still wasn't satisfied, but he didn't get a chance to object again.

"Fuego! Leave her alone and come over here."

Fuegoleon turned to see Sei, his vice-captain and husband, walking over. He looked a bit annoyed, as if he had been searching the whole venue for a while. "They're selling big turkey legs out there, come buy me one."

"Oh? That sounds good!" Fuegoleon was distracted enough for Sei to grab his hand and start dragging him away.

Sei glanced back at Lisa as they left. "Good luck out there. Don't die."

"You knew?!" Fuegoleon asked, having no choice but to leave Lisa to her fate at this point.

"Of course I did." Sei let out a long sigh as they stepped out of the stables and walked towards the loud stadium. Many people were already gathered there, excited for the spectacle to come. "I think she'll be fine. She won't die, anyway."

Fuegoleon wanted to believe Sei's words, so he just nodded and pushed the thought out of his mind, but he was not looking forward for the tournament to begin.

Not long after, Lisa slipped her helmet on over her head, the edge resting just below her brow. I wish they gave me a set that actually fit, she thought, trying to ignore the fact that her hands were shaking quite a bit. Despite her confident words, she couldn't help but take some of Fuegoleon's warnings to heart. People did die often at these things, especially younger knights just like her. But, if I win, I'll be rewarded money and status, she reminded herself, taking a deep breath as she fidgeted in the saddle, waiting for one of the stable hands to give her the go-ahead. And if I die... well, at least I got to experience everything.

“Do I have to stay the whole time? I want to leave-”

“No! You are absolutely not going to leave early.”

Marx Francois, the royal advisor/babysitter, was already stressed out enough. But to his ire, the King himself, Julius Novachrono, was growing bored of the spectacle. Julius was strange for a monarch, having spent most of his life as a knight before becoming the head of one of the monarchy’s two ruling houses. He was eccentric, to put it simply. “I thought you’d like getting away from work for some fun, anyway.”

“Fun? This isn’t fun,” Julius grumbled. The tall man was slumped in his comfortable chair, the crown he hated wearing tilted upon his blonde hair. “It’s borderline barbaric.” He eyed the jousting strip as medics dragged off the last bout’s loser on a stretcher. “Honestly, I don’t understand why Kira has us continue this tradition… I’d rather be doing work.”

Marx sighed, not sure what to make of the man. “Well, you’re the one who hands out the awards at the end, so you have to stick around.”

Their conversation was cut short as the crowd cheered and the next two participants emerged from the stables. One was a member of the esteemed Silver Eagles, sitting proudly upon his horse in his fancy armor. And the other…

“Isn’t Randall supposed to be riding for the Crimson Lions?” Julius asked before Marx could. “That’s… definitely not Randall.”

He was right, the rider wearing the red cape was much smaller than Randall. Their face and figure was obscured by their armor, hiding their identity. “They must have substituted him… is that Seiros…” Marx’s voice trailed off as he looked to the stands beside them, immediately spotting Sei sitting next to Fuegoleon. “Never mind. Huh.” 

He turned back to the strip right as the referee started to yell.

“READY! SET! CHARGE!!!!”

The two riders raced at each other. In a moment, it was over. The Silver knight’s lance hit squarely in the middle of the small knight with a dangerous CRACK. But somehow, the Lion knight managed to stay upright as the opponents came to a stop at the ends of the strip.

“Yikes! I’m surprised they made it though,” Marx commented. “That wasn’t a light tap at all.”

The opponents were already gearing up to go again. Julius found himself holding his breath as they charged. The smaller knight was faster this time, and thrust their lance forward before they were in range. The feint caught their opponent off guard, planting in the middle of their shield. With a yell, the Silver Eagles knight slipped off the back of their horse and slammed into the sandy ground with a resounding clang.

The crowd erupted into cheers as the Crimson Lion knight did a victory lap before heading off into the stables again. Marx looked down, surprised to see Julius clapping more enthusiastically than he had before. “Oh? I see you like the underdog.”

“I wouldn’t call them an underdog, Marx.” Julius smiled to himself before letting his hands fall back to the arms of his chair. “It’s obvious to me… that knight is very, very strong.”

A couple matches later, it was time for the finals. Fuegoleon stormed back into the stables, his heart pounding. She made it to the finals! I didn’t expect this outcome, but now she has to face one more opponent… and I’m afraid it will be the last thing she does.

Lisa, already mounted on her horse again, grinned triumphantly as she spotted Fuegoleon. “Captain! What did I tell you?”

“I’m glad you’re doing well, but listen.” Fuegoleon came to a stop next to her horse. “Your final opponent… is Xerx Lugner of the Purple Orcas. Last year, he won the tournament, but he also-”

“He killed his opponent by accident, right?” Lisa finished. “I told you, don’t worry so much about that! I’m not going to die. And even if I do-” Her smile faded for just a moment, making Fuegoleon’s stomach lurch. Even SHE’s nervous… “I’ve already come in second place. Isn’t that good for the squad?”

Fuegoleon didn’t answer right away. He didn’t really understand what was beyond Lisa’s seemingly blind enthusiasm… no, her fatalistic enthusiasm. This was a girl who had something to prove, and she would go down in flames if it meant she could do that. 

“... no. Second place isn’t good enough.”

Fuegoleon smiled for the first time, catching Lisa off guard.

“Stay alive… because you have to win. Get first place, that’s an order!”

After a moment, Lisa matched his smile, and saluted. “Yes, sir!”

With that, she closed her helmet, and turned to enter the bright sunlight once again.

The crowd was cheering loudly, but she couldn’t hear it over the sound of her heart beating. It echoes around her armor. She glanced at the crowd, astounded that all of them were looking at her right now.

Before she knew it, the call to charge rung out, and she shot towards Xerx with her lance ahead of her.

She didn’t think about the crowd in that moment. Nor her squad. Nor her family. All Lisa could see was her opponent, above the tip of his lance.

With the same determination as earlier, Lisa thrust her lance forward. But unlike her last opponents, Xerx anticipated the move. He swung his lance around hers with perfect accuracy. Lisa’s eyes widened when she realized what was about to happen.

SHIT! NO-

CRACK

The lance slammed into Lisa’s upper arm, the one holding her own weapon, and the horses raced past each other.

Lisa’s vision spun, but somehow she remained on her horse. She skidded to a stop, and was immediately swarmed by medics.

“Are you alright?! Here-” one of them reached up and tried to take the lance out of her limp hand. 

However, Lisa suddenly straightened up, her grasp tightening. “No! I’m fine. Get out of the way, I’m about to go again!” she gave them a confident smile, and the medics scattered.

“Yikes… that looked nasty, but they’re not hurt!” Marx said, relieved as he watched with baited breath. He didn’t expect to get so attached, but here he was. “I’m surprised, Xerx must be losing his touch.”

Marx didn’t notice, but Julius’s smile had dropped.

No, Marx… that’s not what happened at all…

Lisa clenched her teeth so hard she thought they might shatter. Her arm was on fire, and it took everything in her to keep her lance up. This… this is nothing…

Julius’s grip tightened on the edge of his chair. This knight… she…

A broken arm is nothing! 

Lisa turned her horse towards Xerx once again. 

For some reason, Julius found himself smiling.

I don’t know why… I don’t know how… but…

“CHARGE!”

LIsa kicked her steed.

For my squad… and for me, I have to win!

Julius held his breath along with the rest of the audience.

Somehow…

Lisa thrust her lance once again with a cry of adrenaline.

I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life!!!!

Lisa was faster this time, and knew what Xerx would do. She countered his parry, leaving his chest wide open. With one last burst of speed, the lance planted right in the middle of his armor. With a strangled, frustrated yell, Xerx went flying off his horse and fell to the ground below.

The crowd burst into applause as Lisa slowed to a stop, but her mind wasn’t on her win. It was hot inside her armor, and her broken arm finally gave out. Her lance slipped to the ground as she reached up to take off her helmet.

Julius rose to his feet as he clapped, grinning. “You chose a good one to root for!” Marx told him happily.

“Of course I did! I’d like to think I have good taste!” Julius looked back out at the knight as they fumbled with their helmet. How exciting! I hope their arm is ok… I can’t wait to congratulate them person… personally…

Julius’s mind blanked on that last word, because the knight finally lifted off their helmet before dropping it to the ground. Short hair popped out from its confine, fluffing up to its usual shape. The knight reached up to smooth it back out of their face, revealing their identity to be a woman… 

She…

Julius was frozen in place, his mouth halfway open, as she opened her eyes, and gave a triumphant smile to the crowd.

She’s… so… beautiful.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Marx was saying something, but his voice was just a faint wah wah wah in Julius’s ears. 

It wasn’t just her face… it was the strength that radiated from her whole body. Despite being tired and injured, the knight continued to smile, the adrenaline of victory shining from every pore. She was stunning and terrifying at the same time, and it wasn’t until she rode off the strip again that Juilus came back to his senses.

“JULIUS! Wake up!”

Julius looked down at Marx, who was pulling at his sleeve. “Huh?”

“Don’t huh me!” Marx glared up at him. “Come on, we have to go get the awards ready.”

Julius quickly hurried off to prepare, even though his mind was spinning like a helicopter. 

Who knew… the knight I was rooting for this whole time… was such a cute girl!!!

Ten minutes later, she was in his presence again, this time standing alongside Xerx and Alecdora, the third place winner, on the podium. Her arm was in a sling, confirming Julius’s suspicion that she had broken it in the last bout. Amazing… I’ve never seen someone pull through that kind of thing before. Julius stepped up, and the three knights kneeled down before him. 

Julius quickly gave Xerx and Alecdora their medals before turning to the woman, his heart racing. Trying to keep a straight face, he smiled regally and held up her medal. “Congratulations… Sir Petalon.”

Lisa Petalon…

Lisa smiled up at him before bowing her head. Julius slipped the medal around her neck, his hand brushing against her hair for just a moment.

...s-soft…

Once it was in place, Julius stepped back, but left one of his hands outstretched, a purple ring shining upon it. It was traditional for the winner to kiss the monarch’s ring out of respect, especially after being honored in this way. Lisa reached up to take his hand, pulling the ring towards her face. But to Julius’s surprise, she missed the ring, her lips meeting the skin of his knuckle. 

...S-SOFT-

Julius felt his whole face heat up, and his smile faltered just a bit, shocked by the bold gesture. He didn’t know if it was on purpose or not, but Lisa’s gaze was meeting him from below her lashes. Then… she smiled at him, almost knowingly.

“Thank you… your majesty.”

He knew, in that very moment… he would never think of anything but her eyes again.

She was going to drive him mad.

Julius’s smile strengthened again, despite how hard his heart was pounding. Regretfully, his hand slipped out of her grasp, and he turned back to the crowd. The applause strengthened, many rising to their feet along with the winners.

Lisa grinned and waved at Fuegoleon and Sei in the crowd. Fuegoleon was clapping louder than anyone, tears almost forming in his eyes. She did so well! Who would have thought- But she still got her arm broken-

Julius didn’t dare look back as he walked off with Marx towards his carriage. He was ready for this hot, sweaty day to be over, but at the same time…

I’m glad I met someone interesting...

[gustafsnightangel]

A Softer Side Part 2

Hunt and Strand lived, breathed, and ate the case until they had exhausted all avenues, only then did they decide to stakeout Donovan’s place.

“It’s like four days until his kids birthday and he’s still in town, what gives?” Hunt asked from the back of the van as he watched Donovan’s car pull up.

“A few options, he isn’t our guy, he’s snatching closer to home, or he’s paying someone else to get their hands dirty as he’s retired living the life of luxury.” Karl quipped sarcastically.

“In a run down duplex. Sorry, I’m not buying.” Jerry huffed.

“Me either. He’s dirty, we just gotta find the dirt.” Karl’s eyes narrowed as the trunk of Arthur’s car opened. Snatching the camera with the telephoto zoom lens he zeroed in on the shopping bags.

“You got something boss?”

“Shopping.” He stated and clicked away as Jerry watched the images come up on his laptop screen. “Hmmmm.”

“Hmmm indeed.” Hint said scanning the photos. “Why would a guy in his sixties, living alone need feminine hygiene products and diapers?”

“Damn good question.”

“He’s stocking up.” Jerry said quietly.

“He is, hey run the plates.” Karl smiled. “He’s changed cars, that’s not the same one he had last week when we came here.”

“Derek Strider, age 57, black hair, that’s dyed because it was a sandy blond when we met last week. Says here he’s a retired school teacher. Helps out at, oh fuck me.” Jerry said a moment later, and spun the laptop around for Strand to see.

Karl almost went nuclear. A fucking orphanage, is this guy for real? “Get Meekland on the phone, right the fuck now.” He snarled and Jerry opened a line.

Strand relayed the information and Jerry, wisely, kept his mouth shut.

“I’m not asking for a warrant yet ma’am, I’m asking for someone to go sit on the orphanage over the next few days to see what this guy does.” The line went silent for a few moments.

“You’re sure?”

“Somethings off Sarah, we can’t ignore it.”

“Very well, I’ll have someone assigned to you this afternoon.” She snapped.

“Thank you.” The line went dead.

“You guys really hate each other don’t you?” Jerry said quietly.

“No, just... we irritate each other, oil and water.” He chuckled, let him think they hated each other, it was better than I’m banging the boss. “What type of security do you think he has on that house?”

“Considering what he’s hypothetically hiding, I’d say a lot.”

“Hmmm.”

“What hmmm, I don’t like that hmmm.” Jerry said cautiously.

“He’s going to go out at some point and I want to have a snoop around.” Strand murmured.

“You can’t go in...”

“I didn’t say I was going in, I want to look around.” He shot back. “You knock on the front door while I wander around the back.”

“If we go in without a warrant.”

“I’m well aware of what happens, don’t sweat it kid, I’m not about to blow this lead by entering without a warrant.” Not yet he thought.

“Ok then, when?”

“Discretely call the orphanage and ask what time the volunteers come in, tell them your interested in helping out.” Karl lifted the camera back up as Arthur ventured out to the car again as Jerry made the call.

******

“He’s heading to the orphanage.” Jerry confirmed.

“And you know this how?” He asked sarcastically.

“Because Wainwright just texted me that he’s over there and our boy just got out of his car.” Hint smiled.

“Good, let’s go.” Karl stalked to the house with purpose, his long legs eating up the road. Signaling to Jerry, he went around the back. He heard the kid knock on the door and wait, the polite investigator just tying up loose ends. Strand committed the layout of the rear of the house to memory, the storm shelter door which was oddly out of place against the abandoned garden shed along the back fence. Glancing at the neighbors yard, their storm shelter was against the house. Hearing Jerry’s second knock and polite call of Mr. Donovan he ventured along the rear of the house, studying every weather beaten board, every window. Nothing out of the ordinary. Taking out his phone he snapped a few photos and walked toward the garden shed, now here was some security. “What are you hiding behind a rusty tin shed Arthur that needs a high end, high priced military security system?” He muttered to himself and snapped a few pictures of the lock and the storm shelter which also has a lock. The back entrance to the house was also tightly secured, he needed blueprints and a warrant.

******

Climbing back into the van Karl uploaded the photos from his phone to Jerry’s computer and gave him detailed information about the locks and where to find someone to break them. He also had him pull the county blueprints of the area.

“Ex military.” Strand said as if that alone explained everything. “They don’t ask questions and get the job done. It’s our last resort if we can’t get the warrant.”

“We’ll lose our asses if we go in without a warrant.”

“I will, you won’t be coming in if it gets to that point, because I won’t be arresting him.” He said darkly and let the kid see the rage and hatred simmering beneath the calm facade that was Karl Strand. “If it is who we think it is, I’m not letting him slip through again. This time I’ll end the fucker.”

“Fair enough.” The kid gulped.

“Set up one of the remote wireless cameras on the house and we can monitor from the office for the night. I want food and a fucking shower.” He was beat. They’d been jammed in the van for nearly a week but it was paying off, they had leads, they were following cautiously.

“Can do boss.” Karl climbed into the drivers seat while Jerry took care of the camera and they headed out once everything was online.

******

Strand went out for burgers again after his shower and walked into the conference room as Jerry was finishing up with Wainwright on the phone, the camera they’d set up showed Donovan’s car back in the driveway at the house.

“Our boy home for the night?” He asked placing food in front of the rookie and taking a seat.

“Yeah, got in about ten minutes ago. Wainwright’s gonna hang in case he scouts the orphanage out tonight.”

“Good.”

“He also setup a wireless camera so we can see the building, front and back.”

“Even better.” Karl studied the orphanage, entries, exits, windows. “Pretty secure.”

“Reasonably, the younger kid section more than the main building.” Jerry said biting into the burger.

“Begs the question of how? How’s he gonna do it Jerry?”

“How much does it cost to legally adopt?”

“Chump change to what he’s getting for them. But no, not legally adopt, too much of a paper trail, too many questions.” Karl chewed on that thought. “I wonder...”

“You wonder what?”

“I wonder if he’s visiting other orphanages.” Strand mused out loud.

“Fuuuck! I didn’t even think of more than one. It would be a bold fucking move to snatch them from the orphanage though.”

“Yeah.” Karl said wistfully as his brain ticked over each scenario. “I’d wait.” He murmured.

“Wait for what?”

“I’d wait for the kids to be adopted.” He sat up abruptly and started typing. “Cross check all the orphanages in the last few states he’s hit with parents that have adopted only to then have the child kidnapped a little while later. That’s going to be a short fucking list, at least I hope it’s shorter than the list we have.” They sat and tossed theories around as the computers churned through data. They both fell silent as the chime from the computer informed them of a hit.

“Shit.” Karl scrubbed his hand over his face. “I was hoping I was fucking wrong.”

“Me too, but it’s more weight for a warrant.”

“Ok let’s get to work.” He sighed as the hits came in, a slow trickle of more names he’d add to his list.

“He used more than one orphanage in New York State, Ohio, and Colorado.” Jerry said in awe at the amount of names popping up. “This is crazy.”

“It is, but what’s the bet you just found your milk money.”

“No we found their prime merch, the milk money will be the homeless that can be cleaned up and sold for a quick $20K.”

“Let’s get it together, I’ll call Meekland in the morning and disturb her weekend.” He grinned, in more ways than one.

“Oh she’ll love you for that.” Jerry said sarcastically.

“You sassing me boy?” Strand growled.

“No sir absolutely not.”

Karl couldn’t contain the chuckle, the kid was all right for a rookie.

******

It was 3 am Saturday morning when Strand called it a night. They were both wrecked.

“Go home, get some sleep Jerry. Good work these past few weeks.”

“Thanks boss but if you’re staying so am I.”

“I’m not, I’m heading out. We can’t help these kids if we’re falling asleep mid-takedown. Rest.”

“You too.” He said and collected his coat and headed out.

Strand was kicked back staring at his board when Meekland stepped in. “Making progress?”

“Slowly, but yes.” He eyed her carefully, damn he was in the mood to fuck her hard. “If he sticks to pattern he’ll move on the 17th kidnapping the first kid.”

“We can lockdown the orphanage.” She assured him and he smiled.

“He won’t take the kid from there, it’ll be from the family that just adopted their new baby girl.” He snarled.

“Oh fucking shit Karl.” She breathed. “Seriously?”

“That’s how I’d do it and there’s a pattern with previous states and families that have adopted.”

“Who’s he going to hit?”

“I don’t know. There are multiple adoptions each day and he visits more than one orphanage, each with a different ID. We’re still working that angle. It wasn’t until a few hours ago we were thinking it was just him and a lone operator, now I’m thinking mob or syndicate.”

“Jerry heading home?”

“Yeah, as am I. We need sleep. There’s nothing more I can do for her tonight.”

“You really think she’s still with him don’t you?”

“I heard her screaming when we were close fifteen years ago Sarah, I fucking know she exists.” He stood and pulled his coat on, jamming his hands into the pockets.

“Want to hit the bar?” Which was their code for take me home sir?

“I do, but I’m beat to hell. I need sleep.”

“Go and sleep, we can swing past after lunch.” And with that settled she turned on her heel and left.

******

He knew he should have said no to Sarah, but damn it a man has needs and she was more than a willing participant. The drive home to his downtown apartment was blissfully short given the time and for once the doorman wasn’t at his post to talk his ear off. He needed his brain to shut down for a good twenty four, a solid eight and a good fuck would suffice. Once inside he darkened the room, took a long hot shower and let the day and the case fall away. Crawling naked under the covers he let sleep claim him hard.

******

Her text tone woke him, Sarah was on her way. Slipping on a pair of lounge pants that hung low on his hips he padded out to fuel up with coffee and eggs he hoped were still good. He was clearing his dishes when Sarah knocked.

“You look like shit.” She said gruffly and handed him a bag of fresh bagels.

“Good morning to you too sunshine.” He chuckled and let her in.

“Eat your bagels.” She smirked.

“I’ll save them, I just had eggs. What is it you want Sarah?” He asked sternly.

“You.”

“I thought you had a someone special?” He joked.

“Apparently not as special as the blond bimbo on his arm last Thursday.” She snapped. Ahhhh he thought, that would explain the moodiness these past few days.

“I’m not relationship material Sarah you know that, this is just sex.”

“Sex is all I fucking want right now.” She spat and his eyebrow raised.

“On your knees.” He growled. “You forget your place little one.” She dropped to her knees, eyes never leaving his. “Bedroom.” He barked when she went to touch him, the slight flinch reigning her in. He knew what she needed from him, what she craved when she was like this. Watching her crawl on all fours to the bedroom he finished his coffee and devoured a bagel, she would wait, time it’s own restraint.

She was kneeling at the side of the bed, her usual spot, when he came into the room and shut the door. Belt in hand he stood behind her, looming, his presence enough to have her submit to him. When her head bowed he sat on the bed in front of her and hooked a finger under her chin forcing her to look at him.

“You know not to take that tone with me little one.” He growled. “Across my lap, you get ten.” He saw the realization in her eyes that they wouldn’t be a soft ten either. “Stand.” He commanded. Once she stood she kept her head bowed, hands nervously twitching in front of her. “Take your shirt off.” He purred, the slight smile tugging his lips as her hands shook while fighting the buttons. It was arousal over fear, Sarah had never feared him, nor should she. This was their game, mutually beneficial, equally satisfying. He drank in her curves, the swell of her breasts as she stripped the blouse from her body. “Now your skirt.” His voice husky with need of his own as his eyes followed the fabric down her legs to pool at her feet. She waited, knowing he was in control, he would tell her when to move.

“On the bed, across my lap.” He said after he took his time devouring every inch of her with his eyes. Holding out his hand she took it to steady herself as she got into position. “Hands.” He murmured, the command in his tone unmistakable. Binding her wrists with the belt he secured them comfortably in the swell of her spine. She’d come prepared with her hair already in a tight braid, the long rope like tail enough for him to wrap around his hand for a good grip when he was ready. “Count them out little one.” He soothed as his hand circled her ass cheek ready to strike.

He drew his hand up and back and slapped her hard. The crack of skin against skin echoed around his bedroom.

“One sir.” She said defiantly.

The second strike caused her to whimper, the large red hand print blooming on her skin.

“Two sir.”

With each strike she relinquished control, he could feel her submit to him further.

“Five sir.” She choked as the tears came. He didn’t hesitate, knew that this was what she needed. Wrapping her braid around his hand he fisted it and pulled her head back gently before striking her again.

“Six sir.” She sobbed, tears streaking her cheeks.

“Nearly there little one. He purred and brought his hand down sharply.

“Seven sir.” He felt her let go, the last of her stress and tension falling away as he soothed her ass cheek before striking again.

“Eight sir.” Her sob shook her body.

His fist tightened in her hair as he gave her the last two strikes, both harder than the rest of them.

“Ten sir.” She cried, as he released her hair gently and soothed the pain from her scalp and her glowing hot cheek.

“Will you talk to me in that tone again little one?”

“No sir.” She whimpered.

“Up you get.” He urged and he helped her up and into his lap, her wrists still bound.

“I’m sorry sir.”

“I know you are.” He kissed her forehead, the need for her to feel safe was as important as the release the rough session would bring her.

“Be a good girl now and hop up.” He said, his hand steadying her as she unfolded herself from his lap. Fingers stripped the remaining lace from her body, those curves enticing him to play. Once she was naked he cupped her face in his hands and devoured that beautiful mouth. “Such a good girl.” He purred as she stood there and let him take her as he wanted, touch her as he wanted.

He wasn’t a gentle lover, and never had been, he didn’t do it with the premise of intentionally hurting someone, but his handling was rough. Gripping her wrists he held them forcefully as he took and touched. Releasing them he positioned her face down onto the mattress, his huge frame towering over her. Nudging her knees to widen her gripped her hips hard to bring her up on her knees, that perfect ass presented ready for him to fuck. “Wider.” He growled and nudged her knees open, the whimper making him smile. She’d been begging for him to take her like this and hard for weeks. He left her there, poised for the rough hard fuck she’d asked for while he stripped, his cock aching to be buried inside her, to feel her. He opened the nightstand drawer and placed the vibe on the bed for later, she would come and come hard today.

She wiggled her ass as his tip pressed against her entrance and his hand coming down sharply on her ass cheek. “Don’t test me.” He snarled. He teased her, tormented her to breaking point, the tears and whimpers fueling his own lust. With a sharp thrust of his hips he buried himself deep, her body shaking with the force of their pelvises meeting. Hers was a guttural groan at finally being filled with him, his own grunt equally as loud as he held her hips painfully tight and began to take her.

Strand fucked her hard, his own tension and stress of the weeks past eager to find its own release, the need to fuck it out of his system taking over. Pounding into her he gripped the leather at her wrists and rode her, the sound of their bodies colliding mixing with the grunts and groans of fucking filled the room. He felt her peak, the tightness of her pussy caressing him. Just as she was about to shatter he pulled out, her release ebbing away. His throaty chuckle at her whimper of frustration only spurring him on. “I warned you not to test me.” He snarled, the slick tip of his cock pushing at her puckered hole. It wasn’t often he gave her this pleasure, knew she relished it as much as he did. “So wet for me.” He cooed, the spanking earlier doing its job, her heightened arousal obvious. “You want me there don’t you.” He teased. “Want me buried in that pretty ass.”

“Please sir.” She begged and pushed back slightly to try and force him inside her, desperate to feel him fill her again. The hard slap to her already red ass cheek made her yelp.

“Patients little one or you’ll get nothing.” He growled. “I’ll take my fill and leave you wanting.” She stilled and waited. “Better.” He stroked his engorged cock and made her wait longer, the game drawn out for her pleasure as well as his. Slipping inside her soaked pussy he gave her a few thrusts before pressing against her back door, the tightness around his mushroom tip making him groan. He fed her the tip, her muscles contracting around his head like a vice, her body trembling as she fought the urge to push back onto him.

“Please sir.” She whimpered.

“You want it all don’t you little one?” He inched into her slowly, her breath erratic as she struggled not to come.

“Please sir.” She whimpered.

Once he was seated in her tight ass he drew out and began to thrust, the ease of which he knew she’d prepared for the evening in advance. Working into a rhythm he plunged in taking her hard, the slaps to her ass adding to their mutual pleasure. Leaning over her he placed a hand either side of her head, above the shoulders and fucked her, that soft whimper making him lose his mind as he dominated her. In a swift move he straightened, wrapped her braid in his hand and pulled her head back so her body was bowed back, the other hand at her throat. She was at his mercy, bound and being fucked relentlessly.

His hand dropped from her throat momentarily and reached for the vibe he’d placed there earlier. Switching it on he held it over her clit, the cry of shock and extreme pleasure sharp to his ears. He slowed his rhythm as he eased it inside her pussy, the curved section long enough to sit against her clit. Taking a hold of her throat again he plunged in and felt the vibration ripple up his cock, the groan primal. He took her, hips snapping, pushing him deep into her ass, she was almost screaming in ecstasy.

Feeling her peak he pistoned his hips and fucked her like the primal animal he was, taking what he wanted, everything she had to offer him and more. “Come.” He snarled and squeezed her throat as she exploded. The feel of her milking him had him roar before he spilled his seed, his thrusts erratic and powerful. Both spent he pulled out and released her wrists, her body lax and unmoving as she caught her breath. “Color little one.” He said as he climbed off the bed.

“Green sir.” She panted.

They weren’t one for cuddles and snuggles afterwards, they both got what they needed out of this session and Karl headed to the bathroom to shower. She joined him as he was stepping out to take care of her own personal hygiene. With a towel wrapped around his hips he cleaned up and stripped the bed, virtually erasing the fact they’d fucked here at all.

******

“You know this can’t be a regular thing Sarah.” He said as she stood on his threshold, finger stroking down his crisp blue shirt. “I can’t go through all that shit again.”

“Pity.”

“Were no good for each other.” Except for a quick fuck he wanted to add but thought better if it. He needed to be clear with her again. They had rules and limits for a reason, especially after the crash and burn of their actual relationship years earlier.

“I know Karl, it’s just...” She sighed. “I know.” Leaning in she kissed him sweetly. “Thanks for the session, I needed it.”

“So did I.”

“You know it’s Sunday, you don’t have to go in.”

“I want to see what the our databases spat out.” He said abruptly. He wanted to chase down leads and get ahead of this fucker. “And I think better when I’m staring at the board.”

“I’ll see you around then Strand.”

“Yes ma’am you will.” He said softly and closed the door before she could worm her way back into his heart. He’d loved her once, if a man like him was able to love, but they were just fuck buddies now and it suited him just fine.

******

He didn’t expect to see Jerry at the conference room table, downing coffee and typing furiously.

“You look like a man possessed.” Karl chuckled softly as he shucked his coat and sat to look at the names the computer had pulled, he was loose and relaxed and ready to dig in. “And you shouldn’t be here on your day off kid.”

“You’re here.” He said flatly, continuing on his current train of thought.

“I’m on my own time Hunt, I don’t expect you to be.” Strand said gruffly, he wasn’t a complete asshole to drag the kid away from his scheduled time off.

“You’re here, I’m here.” He said simply. “I’m not looking for overtime, or a pat on the back. I want this prick.”

“It’s personal for you.” Karl said quietly, his gaze studying the rookie as he worked. “Not my business.” He added when the silence stretched. Yes, he thought, you’ll do kid.

“My sister.” Jerry said after a moment as he kept working, though Karl could see the pain and grief etched deep in the kids face when he mentioned her. It had aged him in a heartbeat. “Not this case.” He added quickly. “But you never know, this might give me answers into hers.”

“Unsolved?”

“Stone fucking cold boss.”

“Tell me.” He commanded, he needed to know where the kids head was at.

Strand looked at Jerry and rage looked back, that was something, Karl thought. Anger was good fuel when you had to push through the shit haunting your every step.

“Nutshell version. My sister, Eva, is 16, seven years younger than me, or she would be if she was still alive. I’m not sure she is. She ran away from home and or was kidnapped when she was 10. My mother was adamant she was taken. I’m more inclined to believe Eva took off on some hair-brained fantasy of a better life on her own, even at ten she was a hellion. Cops looked into it and shuffled it to a cold case after not so much as a we’re chasing all leads. They don’t give a shit.”

“Which is why you’re with this agency and not a cop.” Strand added.

“Absolutely.” He said vehminantly. “I’d like to believe she’s still alive, but reading this case and the possibility of her being sold, I’d rather she be dead.”

“Can’t blame you there.” Karl studied the rookie closely. “Is this going to be an issue for you?”

“No sir.” He said strongly. “These kids, the women they are now, deserve everything of me to catch this guy and nail his balls to the fucking wall. If it leads me to answers about my sister then great, if not, I’m ok with that too.”

“There’ll be other cases that blur the lines with your sister.”

“Yep, and it’ll be the same answer then too.” He said matter of factly.

“Good to know.” Karl was pleased with the rookie’s answer. A lot more grit under the shiny new investigator badge than there appeared to be. “What have you got?” He nodded at all the names and figures on the screen.

“I need to figure out what’s driving this and it’s usually money. I set up a phony encrypted account and signed up for all these websites that offer girls of all ages to be purchased. I needed to be in their system to have a snoop around. It’s my guesstimate of the different levels of, dare I call it, merchandise, and payments for each girl, for each username or seller.” He explained.

“You’re looking for a pattern.”

“Exactly.” He pointed at Karl and went back to the printed out spreadsheet in his hands.

“How far does this go back?” Strand asked, the cogs in his head turning with this new information.

“So far only three years. I can get more but it’ll take some time. I’ve already set my computer to pull data.” He turned the laptop around for Strand to see, numbers and names flicking past at an alarming rate.

“How may girls per year?” He asked softly.

“Per user or per website?”

“Both.”

“Gimme a sec.” Jerry’s brow knit in concentration as he fiddled with the spreadsheet on the big screen. “Holy shit!” He breathed out in disbelief.

“Yeah that sums it up.”

“130,000 plus girls a year over the site. 1 to 2 thousand girls, give or take per user. Some users rank higher than others.”

“We look into them all. Split the list of users in half, we run them all. Let’s build the case from our side so when we put these assholes in a cage they fucking stay there.” Karl growled.

“I’ll dig for personal information first to give you a name and username on the site.”

“Do that. I’m calling Meekland, we need more people on this. It’s not just our buddy boy Arthur, not just this handful of sites.”

“We going after them all?”

“We shut Arthur down first, that’s our priority, find the girl, his first girl. We can run the rest in the background.” Karl said as he got some notes together.

“I can set that up. Can I have Wainwright? He knows his shit when it comes to computers and hacking and tech.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” He looked at the kid. “I know you’re not in it for the pat on the back, but this deserves one. Good job.” He grabbed his phone and made the calls to Meekland, secured Wainwright for the support and began to dig into the usernames.

******

“Question.” He said into the silence, the hum of the computer fans the only other sound in the room a while later. “Did you cross the sell dates with anything?”

“Not yet.” Hunt answered. “The snatch date would be different to the sell date and we don’t know how long he keeps them.”

“Search for sell dates on our boys three anniversary dates.” He said on a whim.

“You got something boss?”

“A hunch maybe.”

Jerry ran the search on the sellers websites and the spreadsheet on the big screen. “That’s still a lot of girls.” He blew out.

“But look at the ages.” Strand grinned. “That’s the only thing that matches for three of the sellers. The girls are all 16.”

“So he keeps them from infants to 16?” Jerry’s voice choked.

“Grooms them from birth to be the whores they’ll be sold as.” Strand ground through his teeth. “Those are your prime merchandise.” He nodded to the screen. “Look at the price they were sold for.”

“3.7 mil, 6.2, 1.3, 5.4. Auctioned off, not just sold.” Jerry said reading the site.

“Can you find pictures of the girls?” Karl asked.

“They usually don’t have pictures up of prior transactions but I can look. You thinking these are Arthur’s girls?”

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”

“There’s three usernames though.”

“Oh I bet it’s all his, one for each anniversary.” Strand was deep in Arthur’s head now. “I wonder?” He whispered to himself and opened up his file on the wife as he scanned the account and username list.

“Got something boss?” Jerry asked and grabbed their cups to refresh the coffee that had gone cold.

“Maybe.” He mumbled, brain locked onto the current task. “Did you happen to glance around the inside of his house when you talked to him?”

“A little, I didn’t want to be too obvious.” Jerry sat the coffee in front of Karl and took his seat again.

“Were they’re any pictures or anything of his wife that stood out?”

“He had a portrait of her and a child, well I’m assuming it was his wife and a depiction of their child.” Jerry closed his eyes as if to bring the memory back. “Oh and a strange poem line under the portrait painted on the wall or something. You know how people have those chic signs and sayings and shit? He had one that said.... oh fuck me... wait.” Jerry’s eyes went wide and he scrambled forward to use his laptop. “Fuck! Fucking fuck I missed it before. NevermoreRaven that’s his fucking account username.” Jerry spat. “And he lists all three separate usernames under that one account name. Son of a bitch.”

“So our boy is into some Poe is he?” Karl grinned. “What was the poem line on the wall?”

“Sorrow for the lost Lenore.”

“The Raven by Mr. Edgar Allen Poe.” Strand stood and scrawled it across the board. “What’s the bet Lenore is his wife’s real name. Add an amendment to your report on the Peter Jensen case, tie it in. It’ll give us cause and a bit of weight.” It was a good solid lead and something he could now got to Meekland with to secure a warrant. “Damn good work Jerry.”

“I was stupid, I just thought it quirky and should have followed up, we could have known this earlier.” He spat, angry he’d made a rookie mistake.

“Live and learn kid. Without the website info it wouldn’t seem like much.”

“It would have to you.” He huffed.

“Kid I’ve got nearly twenty years on you.” He snorted as he pulled out his phone to call Meekland again, thing had just swung in his favor. “Run and focus everything on EvermoreRaven. We nail Arthur first, then we go after the others. Let’s not spread ourselves too thin and lose him.” Which is what had happened last time, Karl thought. History would not be repeating itself, his case, his op, this time around, his rules.

“When’s he due to strike again?” Meekland asked, annoyance in her voice at being disturbed again on a Sunday.

“Tomorrow is his kids birthday and the day his wife died. He’ll have his information on who he’s going to snatch and the 16 year old he’s about to sell.”

“Jesus Karl, this is a can of fucking worms.” Her sigh was one of frustration.

“Yeah and it’s going to get messy if we don’t do it right. As much as I want to bust in there and nail his balls to the wall we need to catch him in the act. The snatch and sell needs to go down, transactions completed for it to be worth anything in court, for us to dig deeper and get them all. I need to know where he’s getting all the girls and housing them. I need the warrants, I need a team.”

“You’ll have it.” She said without question. “Send me the list of who you want on this, hand pick the team. I know you Karl.” She said, that unspoken approval of they don’t all have to be department employees.

“Thank you ma’am.” He said gently, and he was thankful, she was giving him free reign which if the op went south it would be her ass too. He’d keep Hunt and Wainwright, the rest would be a team he trusted and knew wouldn’t let shit fall through the cracks. Time to color outside the lines a little, he thought as, he put in a call to Wainwright and was surprised when the guy walked into the conference room ten minutes later. “You working today?”

“I was yeah. Nothing that can’t wait. What do you need?” Karl liked Steven, blunt and no bullshit, much like himself.

“Get with the kid.” He nodded in Jerry’s direction. “He’ll get you up to speed, I have an op to plan.”

“Sweet.”

“You up for a tail?”

“On Arthur? Sure, where and when?”

“He’s going to leave sometime tomorrow for the snatch. I need you to follow him and get it on record, the snatch, the location he’s taking the kid to. It’ll be an infant going in and likely a 16 year old coming out.”

“I don’t think the teen will come out that day boss.” Jerry said softly not really sure if he should speak up.

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam @loliwrites @trippedmetaldetector @lihikainanea @fay-walden

[rainingjewel]

Sweet Nothings - An Ochre prompt

Something simple for @teirrart

As far as Pigment was concerned, it was a beautiful day. The breeze felt wonderful against his skull and the scent of the wide variety of plants that thrived on Sandy’s mountain was soothing. It was a little cloudy, but that just meant he didn’t have to worry about his bones getting burned in the bright sun here! Despite how empty the mountain was, it was a very beautiful place and it kind of reminded him of where he grew up. Just without the beach part.

 Sandy, however, was looking up at the sky, noticing the cloud patterns. Rain was going to be upon them, and what was worse, a storm was brewing in the east. He would have to take Pigment up the mountain, into his old home for shelter… or they’d have to leave. That was not going to be an easy case to make. The smile Pigment wore warmed his soul… he hated to break the news to him that his perfect calm day of learning was going to be put on hold.

 “Minty,” Sandy called out to the daydreaming skeleton. “Come now, we should get moving.”

 “Why? We have all day! You’re always telling me to slow down, why the rush?” Pigment tilted his head in confusion, innocent eyes filled with orange and yellow shapes.

 “A storm is coming later. We won’t be able to do as much field work as we originally planned.”

 “Huh? But it’s such a nice day!” Pigment declared as he protested Sandy’s assessment.

 “For now it is. Come on, you grew up on the beach. Don’t you remember how the weather would suddenly turn?”

 “I guess…” Pigment pouted.

 Sandy sighed at the disappointed look on the younger skeleton’s face. He couldn’t help it, what emotions he did have, Pigment wore on his sleeve. It was endearing, and one of the reasons he had fallen in love with him. Seeing his boyfriend upset in any form twisted his soul, but weather was one thing he could not help with.

 He gently leaned in, kissing the top of the smaller skeleton’s skull. “There’s still time before it all. And while we wait out the storm, I’ll let you use my supplies. You can start your own potion, on your own. I’ll just keep back and watch, okay?”

 Pigment’s pout turned into a gentle smile at the alchemist’s promise. He hadn’t really been able to use any of Sandy’s tools without his extensive oversight. It wasn’t unwarranted either. Pigment had attempted to mix several dangerous things together with his powders in the past. But that had been some time ago, he was better now, not just grabbing random things because they were a certain color.

 “I wouldn’t mind you being close and observing either,” Pigment snuggled into Sandy’s chest, embracing the taller skeleton with an unintentional flirt.

 Intentional or not, it always got to Sandy when Pigment would be forward like that. A light golden dusting appeared on his cheekbones as he felt the tip of his boyfriend’s nasal cavity scratch him lightly through his clothes. “Heh… I suppose I can arrange that.”

 Pigment laughed a little as Sandy fluttered kisses down his jawline, a bit of a rainbow hue brightening his cheeks. Despite them being skeletons, Sandy’s kisses tickled and he knew he was sensitive, especially along the side with his mark! He barely pulled away, giggling for a brief moment, before their teeth met together.

 Pigment, despite being kissed many times before, was always slightly overloaded with the emotions that flowed through him whenever Sandy got this close. It was surreal and addicting. He could never pick one emotion that was prominent when it happened, which was what he tried to do when he overdosed. This wasn’t like that. His cheeks burned, his head felt light and dizzy, part of his chest felt like it was inflating with… something, he didn’t know. It took him a moment or two to recover, just holding onto his boyfriend’s arms as his head continued to swirl.

 Once Pigment was back together mentally, the two would walk around the mountain, doing some field work. The apprentice was quizzed by the master on a variety of things, allowing him to take his samples and ingredients for later.

 While collecting some thistle, Pigment heard a faint sound further into the plants. He slowly moved through the thistle and tall grass, stopping when he saw some stinging nettle… his old enemy. He glared at it, his round face rather humorous to look at from the outside. Carefully, he went around it, trying to find the source of the sound…

 Laying at the edge of the nettle was a black and white cat with longer fur. The sounds were its pitiful mews of discomfort. Instinctively, Pigment went to reach for it, but he felt himself yanked back by his jumper.

 “What are you doing?”

 The quick, harsher tone of the alchemist startled the smaller skeleton, and Pigment’s hands went to his chest, pulling himself closer together.

 “It’s hurt,” Pigment said innocently, looking down at the cat.

 Sandy glanced down at the cat. It had been stung by the nettle… how did it get sick enough by the amount it had walked in, he wondered… it was at the edge of it.

 “Minty…”

 “Sandy, please! I know how painful that is! Don’t you have more of your medicine for it?”

 “I do but—”

 Pigment started digging through Sandy’s satchels, looking for the right ointment. “It’s in this one right?”

 “Pigment!”

 The smaller skeleton jolted back up, looking uneasy at the tone his boyfriend had just used. It wasn’t often he did something to warrant the tone, and he couldn’t comprehend why Sandy would use it now. He only used it when it was serious…

Sandy had been trying to push the smaller painter away from the cat since he saw it, but Pigment was having none of it. He felt for him, and the cat. It wasn’t as if Sandy wanted the creature to suffer…

 “It’s a human pet, Mint,” Sandy emphasized, leading Pigment way.

 The younger skeleton felt his fight leave for a moment, letting himself be moved away from the small, suffering creature. As he moved further away, tears started lining his eyes. He remembered very clearly what the warnings were… humans were toxic, especially to monsters in this world… anything domesticated was to be avoided too… tainted…

 “I-it’s not… it’s a cat, Sandy… it’s not a human…”

 “If the pets aren’t toxic themselves, they can still poison you if it scratches or bites. You don’t have a soul to ward it off, I can’t treat you the way I have the other monsters that have been exposed. I won’t risk you for a cat, Mint.”

 “Please…” he pleaded. “C-can’t you check it or something? I…”

 Sandy’s soul twisted in his chest as Pigment looked up at him with those pleading eyes. Watery, innocent eyes… it was hard enough to not want to help it. It was just a cat, and Sandy had grown very fond of the species thanks to a mutual friend of theirs…

 With a heavy sigh, he relented. “Fine… but you have to stand back,” and he pointed to a tree across a clearing, a good distance away.

 Pigment wasn’t thrilled with that idea. He wanted to help but he understood why. “Be careful…”

 As the smaller skeleton walked over to the designated waiting spot, the alchemist turned his attention back to where the cat had been laying. This poison was something he was used to, but it caused serious damage… it always got his nerves up…

 Carefully, Sandy walked toward the cat, his bare feet softly crunching the brush beneath them. He looked at the cat as its chest heaved, as if not getting enough air or it was hard for it to breathe. His own soul felt tight as he fell into his old role…

 “Sorry, kitty…” he whispered as his hand started to glow with a gentle yellow. The weakened feline’s soul was surrounded by the same light and brought to the foreground…

 Much to Sandy’s surprise, the taint of the humans of his world was barely upon this cat. A small amount, but not nearly enough to suggest it lived amongst them. That alone was strange… did the animals start to move into the forest? That could be dangerous… he would have to investigate…

 But that was later. Now, he had a patient… he still couldn’t risk Pigment being bit, even with this low level of taint, but at least if he was bit, it wouldn’t be serious. He had been around this type of poison for far too long and had grown resistant… but it was something that was forever with him, and it would give him nightmares if he could sleep…

 He had medicine for the taint… he had medicine for the nettle… but something else wasn’t sitting right with him about this whole thing. How did this cat end up being so badly poisoned from the stinging nettle if it was so close to the edge of the patch?

 As he attempted to treat the cat, forcing medicine into its mouth a lot easier than he thought, given how weak it was, he found his answer… talon marks… a bird had scooped this cat up and dropped it into the nettle. How many internal injuries did this poor cat have?

 Pigment fidgeted as he watched Sandy barely move. Sitting still was not his forte, he wanted to move around. He wanted to help. He was getting better at medicine. If nothing else, a second pair of hands couldn’t hurt, right?

 But he also understood Sandy’s concern. Monsters were incredibly susceptible to the toxins human souls produced in this world… and without a soul to combat it, he was uniquely compromised… but after minutes upon minutes standing there, and not being able to tell if the cat was okay, Pigment couldn’t take it any longer.

 He tried to mimic Sandy’s quiet steps, but his shoes always gave him away in the brush. Despite his best efforts, he just… couldn’t be quiet.

 “I told you to stay back.”

 “I want to help,” he quietly declared. “You’re in danger too if it’s tainted… I won’t risk you for this either!”

 Golden eyes met watery blue and green and Sandy couldn’t help himself. “Oh, Minty…” he sighed with a gentle smile.

 Pigment moved in with Sandy’s gentle coaxing and he sat down beside his beloved. The sight of the cat still struggling to breathe worried him.

 “What’s wrong with it?”

 “Between human toxins, the nettle, and being dropped from a great height… there’s a lot, Minty… I don’t know if I can help it…”

 “But… you have to! You’re a doctor!” he began to plead.

 It was times like this Sandy deeply regretted never being able to follow in his father’s footsteps, never inheriting his gift for healing…  “Minty, I don’t… I’m not…”

 Sandy felt arms wrap around his middle, squeezing him tightly. “You’re the best doctor ever, Sandy! You can do things no one else can, you see things that everyone else misses. I know you want to instantly make someone better, but your healing is better than that. I know it’s not easy but I know you can do it. And I’ll do whatever you need me to, to help!”

 The alchemist glanced back at his partner before resting his forehead against the other’s. Sandy’s success rate of critically injured patients wasn’t the greatest… that instant healing would be really handy to get them out of the woods… but it did generally lead to complications down the road. Things went overlooked or missed in the rush to close a wound, poisons got left in, infections would spread… neither method was superior but his was all he had at the moment.

 With a little help from Pigment, Sandy did what he could for the cat. He tried to ease its breathing, treating symptoms as well as the overall problems. Medicine took some time to work so it was a waiting game… but all in all… it was a good experience for Pigment. He got to really apply what he had learned so far, and perhaps learn a little more… not to mention he did what he did best… Sandy was always humbled by how quickly Pigment would cheer him on, how he always supported him.

 As he was stabilizing the cat, a faint rumble was heard above them.

 “What?” Pigment started to fret. “It was sunny a second ago!”

 This was what he was worried about. Sandy ripped off his half-cloak and very carefully used it to pick up the cat. Luckily it was too weak to really fight.

 “We need to get inside, Mint,” he spoke up, snapping the other back to reality.

 “O-okay.”

 Running up the mountain to the old, abandoned village, the sky ripped open and started letting out its torrent. Pigment cried out a little as he tried to cover his head from the freezing cold water while Sandy just tried to lean over the cat more.

 It felt like it took far longer than it should have before they finally made it to his old home. It was a modest cabin, made of logs and stone with some straw for insulation on the roof. It was fairly dry inside despite the pounding weather outside. Sandy went and gently placed the cat down on the floor, still wrapped in his cloak. As he tried to start a fire in the middle of the living area, Pigment began to whimper. He didn’t handle the cold well…

 Sandy glanced back at him, managing to get a small fire going. It wasn’t as if he kept a lot of firewood here… he didn’t stay in this house too often, preferring to camp out… too many memories. But what he had left… it would hold them for now.

 “Jeez, Mint,” Sandy went over, beginning to tease, “I think you took in enough water to fill a lake.”

 “Sandy…” he whined.

 “All right, all right,” the elder chuckled before leaning in, gently kissing his boyfriend’s cheek. “Take off those wet clothes and hang them by the fire to dry. I’ll go scrounging around for something for you to wear in the meantime.”

 A rainbow tint came across Pigment’s face. “U-um…”

 “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before, Mint,” Sandy smirked a little at his lover’s embarrassment. “Or are you wanting to do it in my old house?”

 “N-No, I-I…!”

 “Though, I suppose it would be a good way to warm you up.”

 A high-pitched whine escaped Pigment as his entire skull erupted in his rainbow-hued blush, hands covering his face.

 A soft chuckle and another peck to his flushed cheek, Sandy gently caressed Pigment’s skull. “I’m merely teasing, Mint,” he whispered with nothing but love coating his words. “But I am serious about getting you out of these wet clothes before you get sick. Can you do that for me? Once we’re in dry clothes we can cuddle by the fire and keep an eye on our new friend.”

 The blush didn’t fade, but Pigment nodded. He understood the why, but emotions were still… difficult for him to process and it wasn’t always sure when Sandy was serious or teasing. It made for some awkward moments, despite Sandy’s patient and nurturing nature. Pigment was glad he was so sweet and understanding with him…

 After finding a spare set of clothes for them both, Pigment swimming in the taller skeleton’s already baggy clothes, Sandy had also found a blanket for them to wrap up in. The cat was wrapped in a blanket as well, the cloak hanging to dry with the rest of their clothes.

 Despite it being early in the afternoon, Pigment managed to fall asleep against Sandy near the fire. It was a cozy little scene after all… a nap with his boyfriend sounded like the best thing in the world right now… it was too bad he couldn’t sleep…

 As he debated about laying down and just pretending for a bit, he heard a sound coming from the other blanket. Hating to abandon his cozy love bug of a boyfriend, but needing to check on his patient, Sandy reluctantly laid Pigment down on his own, wrapped in the blanket. He scooted over to open the blanket. He was greeted by a weak hiss. He should have expected that… Cats were the most dangerous when they were vulnerable.

 “Easy there…” he spoke softly, gently extending a finger for the cat to sniff.

 A low growl, but after a moment, the cat began to sniff his skeletal finger. Then, as if recognizing the scent, maybe realizing it was Sandy who had helped it, the cat put its head down. He took a chance and went to gently stroke the feline’s head. It didn’t seem to mind, or perhaps was too weak. What did surprise him was the soft purr that emanated from the ball of fluff.

 It was something to focus on as the storm raged outside, and as Pigment slept. As the hours passed and the storm settled, however… Sandy began realizing that they had no way to truly care for this cat… sure, he could medically take care of it… to a point. But there was no food and he wasn’t qualified to care for a cat… but he knew someone who could.

 Pigment awoke to find himself alone on the floor, wrapped in a blanket. He whined a little. This always happened! He couldn’t blame Sandy, things needed to be done while he slept… but just once he’d like to wake up with him…

 As he sat up to look for him, he realized that he wasn’t far this time, holding something wrapped in a blanket…

 Right! The cat! He was embarrassed that he had forgotten. He shot up, forgetting that he wasn’t in his own clothes as well, and tripping over the baggy pants he insisted he wore, despite the fact that Sandy’s spare shirts were almost down to his knees…

 “Mornin’ sunshine,” Sandy smiled at Pigment as he blushed.

 “Is the cat all right?” he tried to distract from his own embarrassment.

 “Better than I hoped… not truly tainted… and friendly, despite that…”

 “But..?” he pressed, knowing that tone.

 “I don’t think I can keep taking care of it. I’ve never really taken care of a pet before… I mean, Muffet had a pet chicken I would look at once in a while but…”

 “Muffet… had a…” Pigment had to shake his head to get himself back on track. “But you did so well, Sandy! I’m sure you can do it!”

 “I could probably fumble my way through… but that’s not fair to this little one… not when we know someone who could do much better than I could.”

 Pigment blinked, then smacked his forehead. “Ccino!”

 Sandy couldn’t help but chuckle softly. He had the cutest reactions. “So get dressed, we should probably go and take it to someone who actually knows cats.”

 “Yeah, could probably tell us if it’s a boy or girl too so we can stop calling it “it”.”

 The alchemist snickered and held his tongue so his boyfriend would focus on getting dressed. He had already gotten back into his classic clothes, not that his clothes were much different from one another.

 Pigment cut open a portal with his giant pallet knife into the fabric of reality itself. It was still as strange to Sandy as he first saw it, the concept of it all anyway… however, he was well versed by now and knew well of what the multiverse could offer… this was just one of those things you had to learn to accept.

 As they crossed into the portal and appeared on the other side, they were welcomed by a familiar, friendly voice.

 “Pigment, Sandy! Welcome back!” he said enthusiastically.

 Ccino was always glad to see his friends. They were good for business too, as Sandy spent so much gold on coffee and coffee beans for the road. He missed them when they traveled the multiverse…

 His attention was quickly grabbed by the blanket in Sandy’s arms, however. He knew that shape better than anyone. In a moment, the coffee in his hands were put down and he ran over.

 “What’s this?” he had to ask, curiously.

 “We found a cat!” Pigment exclaimed.

 Ccino’s eyes lit up for a moment, before he was sobered by Sandy’s explanation of the situation, “It’s pretty badly hurt… I can only do so much medically…”

 “I’m not a vet,” Ccino quickly fretted, catching onto Sandy’s inflection.

 “But you do know cats!” Pigment pipped up.

 “A lot more than I do,” Sandy smiled softly at their friend. “I was hoping you’d help us nurse them back?”

 The sweater-clad skeleton looked up at the other two. “So you… wanna stay and work together?”

 “Absolutely!” Pigment grinned. “And then we can keep it!”

 “Minty…”

 “Aw, please, Sandy? With minty leaves on top?”

 “We don’t have a place for a cat.”

 “Your house?” he tilted his head.

 “We travel too much.”

 “You can always bring it back here, I’ll cat-sit,” Ccino offered with a grin.

 “See?”

 Sandy glanced between the two, before letting out a defeated sigh. “I’ll think about it…”

 “Yay!!” Pigment wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s neck, barely missing the cat.

 “Well,” Ccino chuckled, “How about we check out this little fluffball, huh?”

 “Careful, it still has some taint on it.”

“What?” Ccino blinked.

 “We’ll explain as we go through,” Pigment smiled as the three walked into the back.

[manage-mischief]

Regulus Black and the Darkest Shadows

Chapter 3: The Risky Play

Read on: AO3 or FF.net

Chapter Summary: A familiar face graces the halls of Hogwarts.

Notes: Chapter 3! Yay! So, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be posting Sundays every week. Keep a lookout! Thank you so so much to everyone who has reviewed so far. I really appreciate it. Also, thanks to my incredible beta reader: @leah-ravenanne :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

September 6th, 1978

Quidditch tryouts were Saturday and Regulus was quite looking forward to them. He was never happier than when he was playing Quidditch. He had played Seeker on the Slytherin Team for three years now, and had enjoyed every moment of it. The freedom of flying through the air, the wind whipping through his black locks, the sting of the frost on his face—all of it made him feel alive. This year, his good friend Woodrow McDrew, would be captaining the team. Although McDrew was not a member of Regulus’s normal circle of friends, Regulus respected McDrew all the same. He was a highly talented and fiercely kind individual. Avery and Mulciber often mocked McDrew, commenting that he should have been in Hufflepuff due to his friendly, outgoing demeanor and staunchly pro-Muggle views. However, Regulus found McDrew to be a breath of fresh air. He demonstrated the best qualities of Slytherin House, and, despite his disapproval of Regulus’s friends, always treated him with respect. No one deserved to be Quidditch Captain more than McDrew.

“’Ello, Regulus!” McDrew greeted him with a wide smile and a firm handshake. “Have a good summer?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I did. How about yourself?”

“Oh, you know, nothin’ too interesting to report. Well, until I found out about being Quidditch Captain!” He lowered his voice, suddenly serious. “I’ve been studying up on the other teams, you know? Who they’re likely to keep, who’s gone, and that sort of stuff. We’ll win this year, I know it!”

Regulus laughed, appreciating his confidence. “That’s great. Who do you reckon are going to be toughest to beat?” he asked, although he already feared the answer.

“Ravenclaw, as always.” McDrew rolled his eyes. As if on cue, the Ravenclaw team stormed merrily out onto the pitch, trailed by a hopeful group of newcomers ready to try out. The Ravenclaw Quidditch Team was daunting, there was no denying it. Their offensive strength lay in their elite group of Chasers. Gwenog Jones, who had clearly been named Captain, was a force of nature. Rumor had it that she had already signed a contract with the Holyhead Harpies and would be leaving Hogwarts immediately following the Quidditch season to play for them. George Fleet, a lanky, sandy-haired seventh year, came from a long line of Quidditch royalty. His father had, until very recently, played for the English National Team. Regulus had remembered cheering for Giles Fleet when he was a child. And then, there was Des Lewis. For a girl raised by Muggles, she had immense skill. Regulus remembered the conversation he had overheard her having with Slughorn. Gwenog had taken her to training camp with Holyhead this past summer.

As the blue-clad team passed the Slytherins, McDrew tensed his shoulders. He tersely nodded at Gwenog Jones, who cordially returned the gesture. “Going to the Slug Club next Friday, McDrew? I hear he’s got Ludo Bagman coming in.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” McDrew replied. There was an awkward pause before Gwenog cleared her throat and signaled to her team to move down the field. “See you around, McDrew. Black.” She stomped away.

McDrew exhaled deeply after she had gone. “What a woman!”

---

As Regulus packed up his broom after the conclusion of Slytherin field time (during which he’d flown beautifully, thank you very much), he noted a fleck of maroon in his peripheral vision. Sure enough, the Gryffindors had arrived for their time on the pitch. However, Regulus was shocked to see an old familiar face. Laughing along with the rest of the team, with his untidy black hair and smug grin, was none other than James Potter, the brother-stealer. What was he doing here? Come back to relive his glory days? James caught Regulus’s eye as Regulus stared loathingly across the pitch. Bollocks.

With a new sense of urgency, Regulus haphazardly shoved the rest of his equipment into his bag. He tried to blend in between a group of young Gryffindors cheering on their team as he rushed toward the field’s exit. He wasn’t so lucky.

“Oi, Regulus.”

Regulus walked faster.

“Hey! Hey Reggie, come back!” James Potter sprinted towards him, seizing his robes and yanking him backwards. “Didn’t you hear me shouting?” James asked innocently.

“Oh dear, I guess I’d better get my hearing checked,” Regulus snidely remarked. “What do you want, Potter? Why are you even here? Finally realize that you’re nothing outside of school?”

James looked uncomfortable. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and fiddled with the cuffs of his robes. “It’s…it’s for work! You know what? That’s none of your business! Listen. I need to talk to you. It’s about Pad—Sirius. It’s about Sirius.”

Regulus’s throat constricted. “What about him?”

“Well, he…um. He wanted me to talk to you. He, uh, well… he wants to say he’s sorry for leaving and sorry that you guys lost touch…”

Regulus was shocked and enraged. “Oh, poor Sirius! How will he go on? Well, you can tell that traitor that if he was truly sorry, he’d have come to me himself, not had his replacement family do it for him! Or better yet, he’d have had the balls to come talk to me a year ago when this whole mess started. So, you tell dear Sirius that I’m sorry his guilt has finally caught up with him, but he can take his guilt and shove up it up his—”

“Stop!” James interrupted. “Don’t you understand how hard it was on him? He’s only just come to terms with being disowned. He thought he’d put you in danger by talking to you himself. He didn’t want your mum and dad to hurt you.”

Regulus remembered the threats his mother and father had made before he returned to school last year, warning him against having any contact with his disgraced brother.

“We will know...”

James seized Regulus’s moment of pause as an opportunity to continue. “He’s fine, now. But he…he’s seen how you’ve changed since he left. We can all see it. He’s afraid that you’re going down a dark path.”

Another wave of rage coursed through Regulus’s veins. “Oh yeah? Well you don’t know anything about my life, and neither does he! He went out and found himself a new family. Well, I did the same!” he shouted, not caring about the younger onlookers surrounding him.

James’s faced contorted. He was angry now too. “You think those Death Eaters are your family? That’s sick, mate. Absolutely sick. Sirius always told me that you were different from old Orion and Wally. He said you didn’t really believe all that pureblood, anti-Muggle shit. But, I guess he was wrong. You’re in just as deep as the rest of them. Spineless. You disgust me, mate.”

Regulus blanched. “Just— just because I’m in with them doesn’t mean I believe all they have to say. I- I can make my own decisions!”

Potter scoffed. “Clearly not. You think that old Voldie’s going to let you think for yourself?! Then you’re way too naive to be caught up in this mess! You’re either in or you’re out. This is a war, mate! I know you know what’s on the horizon. And if you choose the side of hatred and bigotry…well…then you’ll get what’s coming.”

With those scathing words, Potter spun on a heel and stormed back towards his old teammates, leaving Regulus standing there, shocked and confused. Sure, he’d been having some doubts but…He was where he belonged, wasn’t he? His mind raced. His cheeks burned with shame. What did Potter know, anyway?

Turning down a corridor into the castle, he ran into Ginger, whose hair was now putrid green. She was covered with flecks of something dark and wet.

“What happened to you?” Regulus asked.

She rolled her eyes. “I heard Lewis use the Dark Lord’s name in the hall. So, I hexed that Mudblood friend of hers, Bode. Used one of Severus’s old curses. It worked wonderfully—he’s in the hospital wing now. But, Lewis got me with this jinx before I could get away. It’s not too bad, though. Avery reckons he can fix it right up. Those little Muggle lovers don’t have the balls to do anything serious! Pathetic!” She cackled. Regulus found it to be a shrill, ugly sound. He realized the dark spatters peppering Ginger’s face and robes were specks of blood. His head pounded. He felt like he was going to vomit.

“I’ve gotta go.” Regulus spun around and quickly walked away from Ginger and the Slytherin Common Room.

Regulus aimlessly wandered about the castle, reflecting on Potter’s words. He had always told himself he wasn’t as bigoted or as prejudiced as his friends. He had attempted to justify his involvement with the Death Eaters by blaming others; but Sirius hadn’t given into the pressure like Regulus had. Besides, Regulus had wanted a family, he had wanted people who accepted him for who he was. But, did they accept him? Or, did they only want him among their ranks because of his prominent, Pureblood status? He remembered when they had approached him during first year.

“We know enough about you…” What had they known, really?

Back then, Regulus had refused. He had felt that he had higher moral principles. Sure, he had been raised by his parents to hate and fear Muggles. But Regulus had never personally believed Muggles and Muggleborns were less than human. He hadn’t then… did he now? He thought of the boy Ginger had sent to the hospital, just for fun. He felt sickened by himself. How had he let himself end up here?

---

The rest of the week dragged on. Regulus had become detached and distant. He poured all of his time and energy into his classes. He barely slept. He thought about reaching out to someone, but didn’t know who he would go to for help. He could send an owl…but who would he write? Sirius? They hadn’t spoken in years, what would he even say? Plus, Regulus still harbored some animosity towards his brother for abandoning him. James? Not likely after that verbal thrashing. Regulus would be too embarrassed. And they had never quite gotten on, even before Sirius’s flight. He racked his brain. He barely knew anyone outside of his Death Eater circle, now. Dejectedly, he plopped himself on his bed and pressed his fingers over his eyelids, trying to block the oncoming migraine. Quidditch practice tonight was going to be a pain.

Quidditch…McDrew! That was it! He would talk to McDrew. Regulus knew he could trust his fellow seventh year. Cheered up slightly, he grabbed his broom and Quidditch bag and headed to down the pitch, hoping to catch his captain there before the others arrived.

Sure enough, the Slytherin Captain had also arrived early and was currently pouring over a strategy book in the locker room as Regulus walked in. Engrossed, McDrew didn’t notice his entrance. Regulus coughed, and the boy looked up.

“Oh, hey Black! Didn’t realize you’d be here this early. I was just reading up on some new moves I want us to try.”

Regulus forced an awkward smile, suddenly extremely nervous and shy. McDrew noticed something was off.

“You alright, mate?”

Regulus sighed. This was his opening. “Can…can I ask you something?”

McDrew raised an eyebrow, confused. “Sure.”

“Do you think I’m a bad person?”

A prolonged silence filled the room. McDrew considered his answer, deep in thought.  “To tell you the truth, mate, I don’t think anyone is really a bad person. I think people make bad choices, especially when they’re lost or confused. But, deep down, I don’t believe anyone can survive without a little bit of good in them.”

“That was philosophical.”

McDrew laughed. “Yeah, I suppose it was.” He became serious again. “But, I think it’s true. Look, Regulus, I don’t pretend to know everything about you. But, I spent my fair share of time around your brother and his friends, so I’ve heard things. Heard things about what it’s like living with your parents, with all of that pressure, with some of their…disciplinary methods…”

Regulus paled and averted his gaze.

“…And I think growing up like that would be enough to send anyone over the deep end. Considering all you went through, you seem pretty sane to me. But, I think you’re lost. You’re angry. You’re scared. And, I think that’s caused you to make some bad decisions. To fall in with some bad people. I know it’s hard. In Slytherin, there’s this expectation to follow exactly what old Salazar used to say. ‘Purebloods first, Muggles are scum,’ that sort of thing. I, myself, think that’s all bullshit. Sure, I’ve made some enemies, especially among those whom you consider to be your friends. At the end of the day, though, I see it as my duty to speak up. To go against the grain, to prove that all that rhetoric is troll dung. There comes a point where you’ve got to make a choice about who you want to be. And, I think it seems like you’re at that point. So, mate, if you decide that you don’t want to continue down whatever path you’re currently on, you know where to find me. Me and my friends’ll gladly take you in. Don’t let the fear of being alone—of making others angry—ruin your own life.” McDrew smiled. “You’re a good bloke, Reg. I just think you’ve lost your way.”

Regulus fought back the pricking of tears in his eyes. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear those words. All he had wanted was to be loved and accepted. Yet, so far, all love in his life—from his family, from his friends—had been conditional. The fear of losing their love had caused Regulus to conform, to become a person he barely recognized. But, here he was, sitting in the musty Quidditch locker room, presented with a way out. A way to rediscover himself and become a better person. Energized by the prospect of this new life, he broke into a wide grin. He heard the rest of the team coming down into the changing rooms.

“Practice is starting, I guess,” Regulus said. “Maybe we can talk more at breakfast tomorrow?”

McDrew smiled crookedly. “Of course, mate! I’ll look forward to it!”

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 64

A little bit of calm ahead of the storm, this week. When I set out to write this chapter, I had a very definite idea of what I wanted it to be, and determination for how I intended it to go.

This is not it.

About a paragraph in, Tyche and Sophia arched those eloquent eyebrows and told me they wanted a breather.  Just for a moment.

And that is what this is.  I’m really pleased with the result.

Much to my dismay, the plan quickly became putting me to sleep and tasking me with contacting Else.  Tyche, who had seen my initial contact with the entity, was adamantly against the entire idea.  So were Conor and Maverick – the idea of relying on the good behavior of a bacteria that could talk was an immediate non-starter for them.  In the end, the Council voted unanimously to move forward with the plan.

“You’re insane.” Tyche turned away, throwing her hands in the air in disbelief. “That’s the only explanation. After a lifetime of being the sensible one, you have finally snapped and lost your mind.” We were alone in the medical bay, at her request, but we didn’t have very long before people returned.

“Tyche – “

“I knew it. I knew all that pressure Sandy put on you to be perfect wasn’t good for you.  The anxiety, the depression, the frankly awful relationships….”

“Tych – “

“But this? Trusting your subconscious mind to a virus?”

“Bacteria, but – “

“WHATEVER! What if it isn’t sentient, hmm? What if it isn’t talking to you? What if it’s in your brain and killing you!?” Back still towards me, she was panting as her rant ended, arms dropped to her sides and head bowed. I waited patiently, realizing that she was reacting out of fear rather than anger.  The room was quieter than it had been in days, the only sounds her harsh breaths and the soft noises coming from the monitoring equipment.  However, instead of more words from her, I heard a noise that made my stomach drop and my heart nearly stop.

She sniffed.  With the air ultra-purified as one could only expect from massive, living air filters, only one thing could cause the wet sound coming from my indomitable younger sister.

Tyche was crying.

“Mon soeur,” I tried, knowing I was probably butchering the pronunciation. “I know you’re worried, but you were here when Miys checked brain function: everything is working like it should, there is no myelin damage.  As long as I am being continually transfused, Else seems to be satisfied with the iron in my bloodstream.  It’s talking to me through the translation chip.” I tapped my temple for emphasis, even though she wasn’t looking at me. “I know you are against this, but the Council – “

She whirled on me, a murderous gleam in her still-wet eyes. “Space the damned Council! YOU told Simon to vote in favor.  He was against it, completely.  You begged him to vote in favor of this on your behalf. And who can argue against something when the person it is most likely to kill is in favor?”

I watched in silence, helpless, as my sister shook with the conflict between fear for me and anger at me.  When she clenched her jaw, I continued. “Yes, I asked him to vote in favor. Because people could die if this goes on too long. Because I’m the only we know of who actually had a conversation with Else, instead of just hearing them and running or waking up. Because this may be our best shot and figuring out what our next steps are.”

“I don’t want you to die.”

“Hey, I don’t want to either. But the risk to me is minimal if I do this, while the risk to everyone on this ship is too much to bear if I don’t.”

“For once in your life, someone else – “

“You know good and damned well I’m not going to ask anyone to do something I’m not willing to do myself.”

She stared at me, a whirl of emotions crossing her face. Finally, she spat, “Fucking Empathy.”

I nodded mournfully. “I can’t just let other people die if I can do something to fix it.  You know I can’t.  I’m not wired that way.”

“And I’m not ‘wired’ to back off from this.”

“Then be there,” I insisted, catching her off-guard. “Conor and Maverick are already not talking to me. I know, in my heart, they will be here when it happens. But neither of them has your force of will.  You’re pure spite, remember?  I love them both, whatever powers that be know I do, but I don’t trust anyone else on this ship to tear the universe apart, bit by bit, if that’s what it took to make sure I come through on the other side of this.”

Tyche could only gape, caught off guard by my request.  Eventually, she whispered, “Tenacity, Will, Persistence, and Passion.”

“Exactly. Pure, undiluted spite, the finest Humanity has to offer,” I smiled gently.

“Concentrated spite, thank you,” she corrected, her voice wavering even as she stuck out her chin in mock-indignation.

“Concentrated spite,” I repeated. “We all have our qualities that we are the epitome of, literally the best of each, in endless combination.  But you, and you alone, are just a bundle of ‘never give up, never surrender’.”

She finally caved, groaning at the joke. “I really don’t know what you ever saw in that movie.  But… I’ll be here.  And I’ll make sure that Miys does whatever it takes so that you come out of this alive, and in current condition minus illness.” A hand waved at my entire body. “Even if they have to reconstitute you or whatever.”

“Not putting it past Miys,” I murmured.

She snorted. “If they could do that, they would have done it to the entire ship by now.”

“Doubtful.” I thought hard for a minute. “Until we knew the cause, there was no way to know that we wouldn’t just get re-infected.”

“But we know what the cause is now, don’t we?”

“Not really.  We just know that the same bacteria were found eating the diving platforms in BioLab 2. But they never found out where that came from… it wasn’t from Earth, and it wasn’t in the Ark’s database, so…”

“So, it had to come from somewhere,” she finished, stepping forward to sit in the stool by my bed. “One of the planets we stopped at to fix the sensors?”

“Maybe,” I admitted. “But that’s part of why I agreed to this whole, crazy idea. I want to know where Else came from.”

“You said they could only speak in words you already knew and said in the dream,” she pointed out, arching a brow.

I could only sigh. “Yeah, I thought of that. Essentially, when I go down, I’m going to be reciting scientific paper after scientific paper until they respond.” I winced at the thought.

To my credit, Tyche looked horrified. “That has to be the most boring dream ever.”

“I know.” Nodding, I dropped the last bit of somewhat bad news. “And this all has to happen within one dream.  Their memory doesn’t seem to last very long.” Wincing, I glanced at her hesitantly.

“So that is why you are willing to do this?” She eyed me skeptically. “You’re more likely to die of sheer boredom than from Else.”

“Pretty much,” I chuckled. “The delay is just trying to find something that will put me to sleep, but in a lucid state, so that I can still talk to Else.”

“But – “

“They don’t expect me to actually memorize multiple scientific papers,” I clarified, cutting off her question. “As soon as I am in a lucid-dreaming state, they are going to start playing them directly into my ears, and I’ll recite the from there.”

“How do they expect you to – “ Her eyes widened in sudden realization. “Miys is going to tap into your implant…”

I nodded in confirmation. “And record from there.  That way I don’t have to memorize, and possibly butcher, everything we learn on this trip.”

Tipping her head back, Tyche growled in frustration. “Fiiiiiiine. There is entirely too much going on for me to trust everything to go right. I’ll be here, threatening everyone within earshot to keep you safe.”

“That’s a pretty prodigious earshot.”

“Damned straight,” she winked. “I’ll raise hell to every reach of the Galactic Community. I’ll teach them about hell if I have to.”

“I don’t trust anyone else to do it right,” I deadpanned.

Gently, she swatted my shoulder. “But, after this? You have to promise me you’ll stop ending up in life threatening situations, okay?”

“Oh!” I cried. “Says the woman who took piloting lessons on everything possible!?  The same woman who found out she had my stomach and immediately tried to break it!? This is the person telling me to stop putting my life on the line.”

“I wasn’t almost turned into rare roast-beast.”

“And I didn’t go fucking cliff diving!”

“You went skydiving to impress a girl.”

“At least I didn’t decide that it made perfect sense for my first flight to be Cross-Atlantic.”

“No, you just ate anything that wasn’t guaranteed to kill you for fifteen years.”

“And you ate the maggot cheese that even I wouldn’t touch.”

She gaped briefly before dissolving into laughter. “Okay, we have both done some really stupid shit.”

I gasped. “Yeah, we really have. Including getting abducted by aliens, almost blown up, I was nearly beaten to death, you nearly beat yourself to death…” I squinted at her playfully. “So this is really kind of par for the course.”

“No wonder I hate golf,” she deadpanned briefly before we both dissolved into laughter.

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[xmenwickedgame]

The Boiling Point

(drabble)

Trigger warning: mentions of abuse below

If one were looking for Charles Xavier they would find him in his room, combing over the things in his dresser. Tempers were high at the Xavier school tonight and patience especially thin. Charles himself gave in more than once before he’d finally excused himself.

A headache was building behind his eyes and he stopped what he was doing to massage his temples. Every night seemed to dusk the bubbling tension between himself and his family up a few more notches. It was all rather unnecessary, laughable even if he’d been anyone other than himself. Alas, Charles Xavier he was and with him came a staggering mountain of baggage. One open-faced encounter sent most running for the bloody hills—or at least a safe distance away. His family however had come right back and with them brought a series of solutions that essentially hog-tied him for the better part of a decade. He couldn’t be fixed, they decided and so stepped around the broken pieces, ensuring they wouldn’t cut anyone else.

Only one man saw him in a different light and it was that man Charles thought of now, particularly a conversation with him not too long ago. He’d come to Erik that day with a bruised arm and a broken heart, seeking comfort after having forcefully been injected with the very treatment he’d been trying to ween himself off (he didn’t need to suppress his powers Professor X wasn’t the monster everyone believes him to be...)

That day Erik suggested they walk away, start a life together apart from this place and the people in it. He hadn’t been able to make a decision at the time but with every day passed and each new conflict Charles found himself leaning further and further towards a breaking point.

A soft knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts: Charles stilled but he didn’t look up. There was only one person he wanted to see in the doorway and that man harbored such affection for him even Charles’ stunted powers felt him coming. Only radio silence reverberated from the door now. Silence and the ever-present tension.

“Dad?” Came the careful voice of Charles’ adult son. Charles swallowed a sigh; his eyes opened but otherwise didn’t move.

“What do you what?” He murmured.

“I want to talk to you,” James answered. “You got a sec?”

He sounded tired, Charles notes. Tired and worried. Charles heard the door close, followed by encroaching footsteps. Surprise surprise, James expected a free schedule. Invisible fingers squeezed Charles’ heart; finally he turned around.

“Actually I’m b-busy right now,” Charles said and he cringed internally over how easily the stammer came out. It wasn’t so quick to escape around Erik.

“Oh yeah?” James questioned but that was all he said. For fleeting futile second Charles thought he might get away with continued solitude...until he felt the delicate brush of his son’s mind against his own. Charles stiffened.

“S-stop that,” he said, finally turning around. James Xavier stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, brow pinched over observing yellow eyes. He held up his hands when Charles snapped at him, withdrawing from his mind.

“Sorry,” Charles said, sighed really. Guilt prickled his heart: there was a time he’d have reacted very similarly to that sort of response to his powers. However, Charles could no longer use his powers easily and being probed by a functioning telepath felt...somewhat unfair. Unfair and invasive, he thought, watching the younger man carefully.

The urge to look away crept up on him--look away as he often did when uncomfortable—but he managed to ignore it. He kept his thoughts sparse however as James possessed a decent telepathic range: even without probing he might be able to detect Charles’ state of mind. That would do no one any good.

If James Xavier was at all tuned into his father he didn’t say. He shrugged, a more casual gesture but his eyes never left Charles’ face.

“It’s all good,” James told him. He stepped away from the door, fully entering the room. Charles couldn’t help himself: he stiffened again. No sooner did he than the younger man hesitated. Of course.

“Dad?” James asked. “Are we good or not?”

Charles hesitated. He saw the wariness slip back into his son’s face, watched his body language shift into an even less threatening position. Damn it all, they still saw him as the fragile sapling, the cracked and mushy eggshell, the trembling leaf on rocky winds and every other exaggerated metaphor in the book. It broke his heart a little bit. It also made him mad.

Had they not noticed any change for the better? Did a head held higher, a smile more frequent and almost entirely uninterrupted sentences mean nothing at all? No, Charles thought and this time he didn’t care about any and all possible eavesdropping. His family didn’t want him to change. To them he was damaged, helpless and unstable and above all incapable of thinking for himself.

Evidently James noticed the prolonged silence because he called out again, this time gentler and definitely a touch worried. Again Charles fought the temptation to duck his head and again he succeeded. Instead he chewed his lip before his features worked their way into a frown.

“What d-do you want, James?”

James closed the door. He ran a hand through his sandy brown hair.

“I’m worried about you,” he said. “And I know, I know I’m always worried about you but this is different I swear.”

Charles stopped chewing his lip, the soft and sore flesh still between his teeth. His stomach churned as he waited for an explaination.

“I know you’re thinking about leaving—and before you say anything, I didn’t have to read your mind. You uh, you project sometimes when you concentrate.”

Just like that, Charles’ anger took a back seat. He paled and his trembling heart sank into his stomach. Don’t, he told himself but it was hard, it was hard not to jump the first erratic thought-train pulling out of the station. He projected? How far? Shite, did everyone in this house already know he wanted to—

“Whoa whoa, hey—“ James winced, pinching one side of his head. “That’s, yeah that’s what I’m talkin’ about. It’s only loud enough for me to hear.”

Charles sincerely hoped James meant that because of his mutation, not because he monitored Charles like a hawk. James was a traveler by nature; before Erik’s return the boy spent half his time exploring the stars. Perhaps the one and only thing Charles missed about those days. That and his own naïveté.

“Alright,” said Charles finally. “So you know I-I want to leave...are you going to stop me?”

His fingers flexed and unfurled at his side, resisting the temptation to tug the hem of his shirt. Nervous habits did no good here. If he wanted even a small place to stand he needed to be stronger, or at least present himself that way. Think of Erik. Be like Erik. Erik wouldn’t be afraid of his own son...

James didn’t answer right away, not with words. A series of expressions washed over his face, everything from muddled to conflicted.

“Are you going to make me?” He asked quietly.

Charles’ stomach churned. It didn’t seem like he had a choice. That’s not all it sounds like...

“Don’t,” he said sharply. “D-don’t phrase it like that, don’t pin this on me, I won’t...”

Charles shook his head. Why, he thought. Why must it be this way?

“Dad?”

“What?” James’ yellow eyes widened and the lines in his face, however few there were, tightened. Damn it. Charles drew in a slow breath, then let it out again.

“I’m—” he tried again but cut himself off. Don’t apologize, Erik told him. He wasn’t to blame anymore.

“When you...s-say things like that it seems like you think this is all m-my fault,” Charles explained. His fingers twitched again, looking for an anchor against the building storm. He curled his hands into fists.

James said nothing. Charles took it as a sign to continue. (He hoped it was, otherwise his son was multitasking telepathically...)

“I-I’ve lived most of my life that way,” Charles said. “That...that’s a f-form of abuse, James...”

Erik might hold little love for the extended Xavier family but Charles was an Xavier too...didn’t he owe them a chance to understand? Understand, really? Isn’t it a little late for that?

The lines in his son’s face twisted and in place of wariness now he looked hurt. Genuinely hurt, as though he’d been dealt a critical blow to his character. Charles supposed he essentially had.

“Are you seriously accusing me of abuse? Me? I’m the one who pulled you out of there,” James said darkly and Charles realized it wasn’t hurt he was hearing but betrayal.

“Nobody here gets what you’ve been through better than me,” James went on. “I read your mind, remember? I’ve seen everything that’s happened to you.”

Yellow eyes met Charles’ blue ones. As if Charles somehow needed reminding of their first encounter. Fuck, why must everything be a fight? (Why indeed: wasn’t this what Erik tried to tell him before?) Despite his best efforts Charles wasn’t able to hold back his anxiety any longer: he uncurled one hand and brought it up, biting hard on his index finger. I hate myself. I hate this.

James evidently also needed a moment: he loed away, rubbing his neck. A muscle pulsed beside his jaw—once, twice—and vanished in a heavy sigh.

“I didn’t come here to upset you,” he said, turning back to Charles. Charles chewed on his knuckle. He believed that much, that James meant no harm by what he said. The boy was many things but a willing antagonist did not fit his character. What is it they say? The road to heartache is paved with good intentions? Something like that...

This time it seemed the younger telepath waited for Charles to speak: he stuffed his hands in his pockets, glancing now and then towards the door. Or was it away that he looked, waiting for Charles to collect himself? The elder and stunted telepath flushed. He took his hand out of his mouth.

“I...I understand your concerns,” he murmured. “I do, honestly...b-but they’re stuck in the past. Erik hasn’t hurt me once s-since his return and he isn’t g-going to in the future. You’re a telepath, surely you can see that.”

He was fidgeting again, but at least he’d finally said it. If James were going to make a point of bringing up his powers he ought to be reminded of their full scope. Indeed, James’ mouth twinged and twitched like he wanted to say something but knew there might be consequences. Instead he crossed his arms. “That’s not the point...”

“Then what is the p-point?” Charles asked. He tugged at the hem of his pullover. If only he could talk to James as easily as he did with Erik...but that was part of the problem, wasn’t it.

“James?” Charles ventured when the other man didn’t answer. He still looked like he wanted to but—

“We’re your family,” James blurted. He removed one hand from his pocket, thumping his chest. “Me, mom and Em—hell you have grandkids now, dad. Why...why isn’t that enough?”

“I...” Charles started but he trailed off. His heart throbbed and squirmed as guilt and loyalty and obligation tried to grab for it. Think of Erik, he told himself again. He’d do anything for Erik. He loved Erik. He wanted to be with Erik...no matter the cost.

“I’m not happy here,” Charles confessed. “Nobody trusts me, nobody listens to me a-and Hank is cruel to me, James, he’s been c-cruel for years—”

“You never told me that—”

“I tried!” Charles cried, gesturing to James with his free hand. “You—all of you, you don’t listen, you just...it s-seems like you think I’m the p-problem. I’m not,” he said, searching his son’s face. Once again, James was slow to answer. When he did, his words were shaky on his tongue.

“I never thought of you as a problem. I was relieved when I found out you weren’t the monster everyone made you out to be.”

Charles gave him a look—a pained, disappointed look. “You don’t b-believe I can be fixed. That’s the same thing.”

They parted ways shortly after that. James mentioned something about having to share their conversation with Raven to which Charles curtly wished him well. Once alone he limped over to the bed, collapsing with his hands clasped over his mouth.

That was it then: if his son—his only bloody telepathic child—couldn’t understand him, kept twisting his words and his heart into suffocating knots—what hope was there anyone else would listen? Fuck, he hoped Raven wouldn’t confront Hank. No no please don’t tell Hank what I said—

Charles whimpered: his belly jumped and his chest convulsed. He should be proud of himself, he knew that and he knew Erik would tell him the same. He’d finally stood up for himself, something he hadn’t done in...shite, he couldn’t remember. Sadly (sickeningly) it didn’t seem to matter right now: if James talked to Raven and Raven told Hank then word would spread and they’d all gang up on him and it hurt so fucking much how badly that frightened him. They were supposed to be different. He thought they were. You stupid old fool. You never learn.

Charles dropped his arms: he doubled over, catching his head in his hands.

“I want to leave,” he croaked. He’d never said it aloud before. “I want to leave, I want t-to leave this place...”

[fallenfurther]

Werepuppies 5

Puppies first full moon!

Original post, Part 1, 2 , 3 and 4

******

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Virgil looked at Scott who had his children around him. It was evening so they were starting to calm down. They believed the puppies didn't change with the full moon, but Virgil had noticed a slight change in their behaviour that day. Maybe they, like he, could feel the full moon coming. They had been more of a handful and the calm they had now felt more like the calm before a storm, than them genuinely being tired. Scott stroked Sienna's head, which was resting on Vincent. Vincent was lying on his stomach, head on his front paws, big brown eyes looking into Virgil's. It felt like he was questioning Virgil. It was Dusty that had been acting most out of sorts. He was the one curled up in Scott's lap. He had even let out a few whimpers. Virgil was thankful that Scott had agreed to sit in to keep them away from him as he transformed.

"They need to see this. They need know what and who I am. If they don't see me change, they may not believe I'm Virgil."

Scott nodded, not entirely convinced. He thought that it could wait a few moons, but Virgil disagreed, and as he was the puppies’ father, his decision stood. He took a breath as he felt his muscles tighten. A whimper came from Dusty. He reached up and pulled his shirt off, quickly getting naked as the heat pulsed through him. Virgil gritted his teeth against the pain, his face contorted. It took all his strength to turn his head and open his eyes. Four pairs of eyes were looking back. His puppies were standing up now, full attention on the man who cared for them. Scott has slipped his fingers through their collars, though they weren't pulling on them yet. The next wave of pain caused him to close his eyes again and he felt his body morph. The growl he let out filled the room and his children yapped. The pain intensified as he felt his back legs morph and his tail grow, only to fade as he lost consciousness.

***

Virgil panted; his whole body was sore. He rested as he let the sounds of the room come back to him. It was the movements and low voices around him that caught his attention first.

He is a dog! He is a dog. He smells like a dog, and he looks like us, so he is a dog.

But he was Virgil. He was one of them.

The small voices were close, and it took a second for it to click who they belonged to. Virgil's heart jumped in his chest as he realised that he was going to be able to have a deeper relationship with his children than just that of owner and pet. Joy filled him, and he would have jumped up excitedly if he had the energy. Instead he lay still and tried to work out who was who. Something nuzzled his back.

His fur feels like yours. You think I could sleep on him?

Virgil grinned, which in this form meant his mouth opened and his tongue lolled out. Dusty. That was his Dusty! Two small paws pressed into his back causing him to moan. Little feet pattered away from him and Virgil hated that he'd scared them.

Maybe you should not jump on him.

But it looks like fun.

Virgil heard Dusty's paws on the floor near his head. His body was starting to recover, and Virgil could feel the moon restoring his strength. The fur on his head moved and something edged closer and closer to his ear. Virgil suddenly realised what Dusty was about to do.

"No Dusty! No!"

The whine that came from the pup made Virgil open his eyes. Scott was standing over him and was glaring down at the sandy puppy, who was now in Scott’s arms. He was watched as Scott carried Dusty away and plonked him on the floor. Dusty growled at Scott. His brother and son locked eyes. Scott's arms were on his hips, like he used to do when he scolded Alan and Gordon when they were younger. The staring contest continued until Dusty barked and ran towards the glass windows. Scott sighed and sat down, the two black dogs crept up to him, tails between their legs. They were rewarded with a smile and a vigorous stroke.

I told you it was a full moon. I could feel it you know. It makes me want to howl.

Dusty was pacing by the window now and Virgil knew his son’s eyes were fixed on the white orb in the sky. He was surprised to hear that his son felt the urge to howl too, and Virgil could see the agitation in the pup.

You will get into trouble, again.

Virgil pulled himself up and shook out his body. He stretched out each leg and wagged his tail slowly from side to side, reacquainting himself with the appendage. The two black dogs were now staring at him, their tails stilled by his movements. He knew that he towered above them. He looked at Dusty in time to watch the pup sit down and start howling. The howl may have been small, but it was definitely that of a wolf. All eyes were on the werepuppy, that was completely oblivious to the others in the room. For Dusty, it was just him and the moon now, and the only thing that felt right was howling.

Dusty!

The puppy jumped at Virgil's voice, as did his siblings. The shock of the foreign growl stopped the boy mid howl and the pup looked over its shoulder to the source. Virgil stared at him. The pup turned and looked at the moon with a longing Virgil understood too well.

Dusty, please don't howl at the moon. I know it feels good, but it'll annoy my brothers.

The puppy slowly padded away from the window as Virgil strode over to Vincent and Sienna. He ran his snout along each of them, inhaling their scent and enjoying the feeling of their fur against his. It was Vincent who was the first to nuzzle him back.

Are you a dog or a human?

Vincent's eyes gazed into his and Virgil was relieved that there was no fear in them.

I am both. I'm a Werewolf. I am human most of the time but every full moon I transform into a wolf.

So, you are Virgil?

Sienna's growls were softer than her siblings, but she was just as courageous, stepping up to Virgil and giving his face a lick.

Yes, I'm Virgil. I'm also your father.

Our father!?

Is that why Sienna and Vincent look like you?

Virgil looked at Dusty, who was hanging back a little. The pup kept looking at the window with his tail between his legs.

Yes, it is.

Once a month you become like us?

Yes.

Will you play with us?

Virgil carefully stepped over the puppies and headed towards the box of toys. Sticking his nose into the box, he threw a tennis ball out which his children dived for. He also grabbed the tug rope. When he turned around Sienna was proudly carrying the ball in her mouth while trying to keep Vincent away from it. Scott looked at Virgil and chuckled, before reaching down and trying to get the ball from Sienna.

"It's going to be a long night of playing fetch for me, isn’t it?"

Virgil felt a firm tug on the rope, and something slammed into his leg. Dusty growled as he regained his footing. Virgil wagged his tail and pulled back.

***

Scott glanced over at his brother. It was only 11pm and the Werewolf was already yawning. Scott had washed his hands of dog slobber a while ago, though his clothes were still covered in hair. His niece and nephews were curled up around Virgil on the bed, which he knew was a treat because they weren't allowed on the bed. Virgil's tail was slowly wagging, showing how content he was just to lie there. He was a good dad. He'd also been right about the pups. They had needed to see him change, and it had shocked Scott how much seeing Virgil transform affected them. They had been scared for the man that cared for them. Scott had felt their bodies shake and he felt sorry that they hadn't been forewarned like he had the first time he'd seen Virgil go through it. But it has gone well, and it hadn't taken them long to relax around his wolf brother. It may be the strangest little family, but they were fun. Scott hoped having the puppies would make the full moon that little bit better for Virgil. Scott walked to the bed and carefully lent over and stroked Virgil's head. His brother raised his head and gazed into Scott’s eyes. 

"You got this Virgil. You know where I'll be if you need anything."

"Thanks Scott."

Scott left the room leaving the door ajar. He looked at it. He knew leaving it open meant the puppies could get out, but it was a risk they were going to have to take. He headed to his father's desk to finish off one last piece of paperwork before bed.

***

Virgil lay on the bed, curled around the bundle of fur that was his sleeping children. He relished feeling the heat from their little bodies against him. The sky was starting to lighten on the horizon, and he waited for the change to begin. It had been fantastic and was a little sad that he'd have to wait to have a proper conversation with them again. Their werewolf genes meant they had woken up during the night, and it has been great to have someone to interact with in the early hours while his brothers were asleep. Although Dusty normally displayed the most wolf-like traits, apart from his strong desire to howl at the moon, he was the one who was affected the least and slept the most that night. It had been Sienna who was kept awake by the moon though Vincent wasn't far behind in his restlessness. Virgil nuzzled the puppy pile as the first pains started to course through his body. He arched his back as the pain intensified, trying to move his body away from the pups so he won't disturb them. He let himself go and passed in and out of consciousness. As he drifted awake again, he felt warmth against his now naked human body. With great effort and a shaking arm, Virgil pulled the puppy near his chest into a hug. Its fur was soft against his skin and his thumb instinctively stroked it. His child's face pressed gently against his neck as they reached up and licked his chin. Virgil smiled weakly as he drifted off to sleep.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Greaser Serpents | Part 1

A/N: Currently, I am infatuated with Sweet Pea from Riverdale and I have no clue why since he wasn’t in season 3 that much (also season 3 sucked, just saying), but I can’t seem to get this Serpent out of my head, so I decided, why not start writing imagines and one shots and fanfics about him? So, since I would LOVE to see Riverdale do Grease, I decided to write a mini-series myself. Where OC Luna Simmons, a clean-cut, dutiful Northsider is cast in the school musical as Sandy and the loyal, Northside-hating Serpent is cast as Danny. Somewhere between all the hate between the two, suddenly grows a little love too. 

Pairing: Sweet Pea x OC

Words: 2150

Warnings: none? 

Situated: somewhere during season 2, instead of Carrie: the musical. 

“I’m directing Grease for this year’s musical,” announces Kevin when they’re all sat in the lounge together before classes start. They all look up at him, a small smile playing on each of their lips. Between all the chaos of the black hood and the red circle and everything with Hiram Lodge, the gang could use some good news. Something to focus on outside of the drama.  “I so love you for that,” Luna says with a wide smile plastered on her face. Luna Simmons isn’t new to the gang. She’s lived in Riverdale from the day she was born, next door to the Coopers on Elm Street. She’s been through everything with these kids: Jason Blossom’s murder last year, Veronica joining the gang, the drugs going around, the Sugarman, the Black Hood. And now, when Southside High School has been closed down and Jughead is back at Riverdale High, so are some other troublemakers. To say she can’t stand most of the Serpents is the understatement of the year. Toni Topaz is the only one she can stand. The pinkhaired lady greets her in the hallways, and they sit together in English class. But for some reason, she really cannot stand Sweet Pea nor Fangs. They seem too aggressive for her liking. They always need to solve every problem with violence, and it’s just not Luna’s forte. Musicals, however, and especially Grease, is her forte.  “When are auditions?” Betty asks her best friend.  “No auditions needed, just tell me who you want to play, and I’ll think about it,” Kevin replies, knowing how talented all of his friends are. “The Serpents are doing sets and decor, Toni is doing choreography,” he explains further, sending a shiver down Luna’s spine just thinking about working with the Serpents.  “Per Weatherbee’s orders, I assume?” Veronica retorts. A chuckle erupts from Luna’s body. Kevin nods his head while scrunching up his nose.  “Oh yeah,” he replies. Luna already thinks about what she’s going to do when she’s playing either Marty or Frenchy. Because, let’s face it, she won’t get the role of Sandy. That one has Betty Cooper written all over it. But Luna would be grateful to play an iconic character like Marty or Frenchy. 

“Patty Simcox? Who the hell is Patty Simcox?” Cheryl screams when she sees the character line-up for the musical Kevin had posted on Monday morning. Luna, who just happened to pass by when Cheryl cried out, decides to take a look, just to see whether she got the role of Marty or Frenchy. But, when her eyes fall upon the top of the page where her name is written behind SANDY. Her eyes widen before they glance down to DANNY. Upon seeing the name of Sweet Pea, her stomach churns and her face heats up to the point of nearly exploding. She rips the paper off the board and storms into the lounge where she finds Kevin, Betty and Jughead on the sofas.  “I THOUGHT THE SERPENTS ONLY HELPED WITH SETS?!” she screams at the director, pushing the paper into his chest aggressively. “You know I can’t stand them, Kev, and you still paired me up with fucking Sweet Pea of all people!” she paces the room in a petty rage, instead of being happy she got a leading role.  “Listen, Lunes, I lacked a couple of actors and let’s be honest, Sweet Pea would be a perfect Danny,” Kevin reasons with her, staying calm.  “Kevin is right, Luna,” Betty agrees with him and Luna stops in her tracks to look at the girl-next-door. “Sweet Pea would be one hell of a Danny.” Just at that moment, Sweet Pea and Fangs enter the lounge too, stopping upon hearing the Serpent’s name. Luna makes eye contact with him, suddenly seeing him as Danny. Fuck, he would be a great Danny.  “Wait, what?” the boy asks, tilting his head a little.  “I casted you as Danny for the musical,” Kevin tells him and stands up to hand him the paper, “But since our Sandy over there ripped off the paper in a rage, no one really knows,” he points at Luna, glaring at her for a second.  “I’m not playing in a fucking musical,” Sweet Pea snarls, pushing the paper back into the director’s arms. “I said I would work on sets, not actually play in your stupid play.” the boy growls and walks over to the vending machine for a snack.  “It’s either this or being suspended, Sweet Pea,” Jughead warns him from his spot on the couch next to his girlfriend.  “Fine,” Sweet Pea growls, “But I’m not rehearsing any shit with her,” it sounds bitter coming from his mouth as he sends a glare towards Luna.  “The feeling’s mutual, dickhead,” Luna snarls before grabbing her bag and leaving the lounge, leaving her friends behind, still enraged. “I can’t believe that prick,” she mutters as she passes Toni in the hallway who just happened to pick up on that. She enters the lounge, finding the others, still a little agitated about what had just happened.  “Did a bomb explode here, or what did I miss?” she asks them with a chuckle.  “Sweet Pea landed the role of Danny Zuko,” Fangs explains with a proud smile and a proud pat on his best friend’s back, only to get a glare in return.  “I thought Serpents were only doing sets?” Toni asks, grabbing the character sheet from Kevin to see if she landed a role too.  “I lacked some actors, okay? I had no other choice,” Kevin answers, getting annoyed by everyone’s reactions to him enrolling some Serpents too.  “I’m playing Frenchy?” Toni asks, her eyes sparkling, “Dude, she’s iconic! Thank you!” that was the first grateful response he’s had since he posted the cast list.  “Did you give me a role too?” Fangs asks, grabbing the sheet from Toni.  “You’re Sonny,” Kevin replies with a little smile.  “Because I’m tiny?” Fangs asks, raising an eyebrow. Kevin opens his mouth, wanting to say something, but Fangs beat him to it, “I’m kidding, bro. Thanks!” he gives Kevin a toothy smile before handing him back the sheet.  “When’s the first rehearsal?” Betty asks.  “Tomorrow after school. I hope to see you all at the auditorium at four,” he says when the bell rings, signaling class will start soon. All of them scatter to their classes after bidding brief goodbyes. Some more genuine than the other. This is going to be interesting. 

“Okay, Summer Nights from the top!” Kevin says from his spot in the audience with his script in front of him. Neither Sweet Pea nor Luna are happy to be there, but at least they’re doing what Kevin asks of them.  “So, what you do this summer, Sandy?” Toni asks as her character while the instrumental begins to play already.  “Oh, I spent most of it at the beach. I met a boy there,” Luna says her line without gagging at the thought of that boy being Sweet Pea.  “You hauled all your cookies to the beach for some guy?” Veronica asks as Rizzo. The attitude and the sass match Veronica’s actual, real-life quirks.  “Aw, he was sort of special,” Luna replies with a little smile, acting like she actually likes the guy she’s talking about. In her mind, she was scoffing at herself. Sweet Pea? Special? No way. He was just some plain, aggressive boy that thinks he could intimidate girls with his tough looks.  “Please,” Veronica hauls Luna from her thoughts, “There ain’t no such thing.” “Oh, you haven’t met this boy. It was really romantic,” she turns to Toni who had come to sit next to her, hitting her marks Kevin had given her perfectly.  “Woah, woah,” Sweet Pea then goes as Danny when it’s his turn on the other side of the stage, “You guys really want to hear all the horny details,” Luna rolls her eyes at him absentmindedly, earning a giggle from Toni and a glare from Kevin. The boys surrounding Sweet Pea all cheer. Luna nearly vomits as she hears them speak, until the Serpent begins to sing his part. That’s when she internally melts. His voice sounds like Elvis Presley’s voice. Rough and sultry, causing her toes to tingle.  “Summer lovin’, had me a blast,”  “Summer lovin’, happened so fast,” Luna sings in time, shaking herself out of her gross thoughts. His voice might charm her, but him as a person certainly doesn’t.  “Met a girl, crazy for me,” “Met a boy, cute as can be,” she gets up from her chair now. Her knees nearly giving away as the two harmonize at the next part.  “Summer days drifting away to uh all the summer nights,” they sound so good together. Kevin is proud of himself for casting those to as main characters.  “Tell me more, tell me more,” the girls sing together while doing the choreography Toni had taught them in earlier rehearsals.  “Like does he have a car?” Betty sings as Marty, her voice sounding better than ever. Maybe Betty would be a better Marty than Luna ever could be. Maybe she should be happy with the role she got. And to be fair, even doing this number all week long is actually fun. Seeing it come all together, becoming better and better every day they rehearsed. It’s something Luna could’ve only ever dreamed about. Hell, she dreamed about being Sandy all her life since she first saw the old movie classic with Betty when they were younger.  The music slows down as the cast is nearing the end of the song, Luna hops off the table she was sitting on and Sweet Pea gets off the stands he and the boys were dancing on.  “It turned colder, that’s where it ends,” Luna sings softly, her voice sending shivers down Kevin’s spine as he smiles up at her, proud of his friend.  “So, I told her, we’d still be friends,”  “Then we made our true love vows.” “Wonder what she’s doing now,” Sweet Pea sings, looking out into the distance.  “Summer dreams, ripped at the seams, but ... oh... Those summer...” both sing together, harmonizing perfectly and then even hitting the high note perfectly. “Niiiiiiiights”. Luna wraps her arms around herself, panting a little after using most of her breath intake for that one note. Kevin’s applause rips her out of her thoughts, and she glances over at Sweet Pea, who’s already looking at her with a soft smile on his face.  “That was amazing, you guys! Chills, literal chills!” Kevin says from his spot. “Let’s take that from the top one more time!” and they did. They rehearse that exact scene for a couple more hours until Kevin finally calls it a day. The entire cast is exhausted from all the dancing, but they’re quite chuffed with themselves as it sounds better each and every time. “Hey,” a voice makes Luna snap out of her thoughts as she’s packing up her stuff. She looks up to find Sweet Pea standing in front of her. In place of that intimidating glare he always put on, he now has a sweet, tender smile on his face and his eyes look a little lighter for once. A little less dark. “Just wanted to tell you that you did a really great job,” he compliments, stunning her a little. She didn’t expect that. Not from him anyways. Not at all. Luna Simmons is at a loss for words all at once. Only from one simple glance and one simple compliment. “T-Thanks,” she stutters, “Uhm, you too, Sweet Pea,” she fires back with a little, confused smile. The boy in front of her chuckles, his eyes glancing at the hardwood floor beneath their feet for a split second before looking up to her again. “Maybe we should uhm, you know, rehearse together sometime,” he suggests, pointing his script at her in an awkward and weird way. At least she’s not the only one feeling awkward about this entire interaction. She looks at him for a moment; did he really just ask her that? “Uhm, yeah, sure,” she replies, her eyebrows tugging together for a moment in confusion. “See you around, Zuko,” she bids her goodbyes with a little smirk at the nickname. Sweet Pea laughs lightly, causing Luna’s stomach to flutter for some bizarre reason. She turns around to walk away from the boy and finally head home. She’s ready for a hot bath and a good chick-flick. Maybe she should watch Grease tonight. “See you around, Sandy,” Sweet Pea calls behind her. Yep, she should definitely watch Grease tonight. She casts one last glance to her co-cast member before exiting the auditorium, excited for the next rehearsal with him. And maybe, just maybe, she should take him up on the offer to rehearse together. The boy doesn’t seem that bad after all.

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

When You Least Expect It, Part Seven

Jensen x Musician!Reader; Nathan (OMC); Mama Mia (OFC)

Also featured this chapter: Rob Benedict, Briana Buckmaster, Jason Manns

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

A/N: This is a slow burn fic that I have been working on for a while. Its a story I wrote for myself and just wanted to share with everyone. Yes, the “Dee” in the story is who you think, but there is no intended hate on her or their actual marriage. It is a work of fiction, that is all. Part seven is from BOTH POVs. There is also a playlist to go along with the series.  

Series Playlist: “When You Least Expect It” (Spotify). Songs in this chapter include: “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around”; “What About Love”, “The Joker”; “Whipping Post”

Beta’d by @closetspngirl who has contributed so much to this fic! Thank you for not only indulging my lunacy but encouraging it with gusto! She also put together the amazing wardrobe shown in this chapter, as well. I don’t know what I would do without you!!!

Chapter Summary: Realizing that its time to leave NJ again to get back to work on the festival and have a much-needed conversation with Jensen, Y/N meets up with everyone at ChiCon. This gives finally gives her a moment with Jensen and an added bonus of playing with Louden Swain, featuring Briana Buckmaster, on stage for a crowded ballroom; something that affects Jensen more than he was expecting it too.

Chapter Warnings: Ehhh... nothing really. 

WC: 9.5K

*Banner created by me; pics & gifs found online

It had been one month since Y/N left Austin and came back to New Jersey. One month of awkward texts with Jensen related only to work, daily calls or texts from Briana and at least one Skype or FaceTime call from Robbie every few days. When it came to the amount of work and scouting to be done for the festival, the little man was a bundle of nerves and Y/N was the only one who seemed to be able to talk him down.

February came, and that’s when the first real pangs of doubt began to creep in. The life she had begun in Texas was beginning to fade, and she found herself missing it. Y/N missed the townhouse and living so close to a city like Austin with the diversity in the restaurants, the bars, the bands, the nightlife… and of course, there was Jensen. She missed all of it. Not that life in New Jersey had been boring or lackluster. Y/N had gone back to work for Leo temporarily since she was handling both ends of the transactions now for the Brewfest. Being back in her small office in his hotel, living in the bungalow again felt good, but the longer the cold winds of winter at the shore blew through and chilled her to the bone, the more she really missed Austin.

It wasn’t all work, though. She had a couple of occasions to play at one of the bars that were still open in Seaside during the winter, as well as reconnect with a few friends from the Burlesque group. Y/N had even spent some time with Nathan, though when she did, she made sure to keep her guard up, be wary of any promises he made or plans he tried to get her to agree too. Reminiscing with him was a trap that was easier to fall into than she thought it would be, and after the third time they met for coffee, she invited him to go have dinner. Once or twice a week in the time she was home, she would run into him in town, or make plans to hang out. Y/N always tried to keep it in a public place, and never let him get too close. She was doing her best to follow Bri’s advice and figure out what it was she wanted from, not just Nathan, but life itself.

In between all of that, was Jensen. Y/N thought of him every day, and on more than one occasion picked up the phone to actually call him. However, knowing that he was traveling from Vancouver to conventions and back for the foreseeable future, she decided against it. After the way they left things, she thought maybe a random phone call wouldn’t be the best move and wanted to wait until she could see him face to face. When that would be, she didn’t know, but by the time Groundhog Day had rolled around, she felt ready to make it happen soon.

The morning she woke up with the intention to make arrangements to fly back, a winter storm warning had gone into effect, ultimately grounding all flights in or out of the area. Y/N knew the drill and began to run the errands necessary to hunker down for the long haul, getting supplies for two to three days at least. By the time she reached the bungalow and filled the small pellet stove in the corner of the room, the snow had started falling.

As a kid, seeing the beach turn from the beige sand, to white snow had always been sort of magical. Watching the waves crash and spray the icy mist into the swirling flakes made her feel like she was experiencing something majestic, and it always left her feeling a little whimsical and reflective. That’s what she was doing when she heard the knock at the door several hours later, just as the storm was hitting its peak.

Pulling the crocheted blanket around her shoulders, Y/N went to the front door and opened it enough to see who it was.

“Nathan?” she asked, then opened it further and with it came a burst of cold, snowy air. “Come in before the snow does.” She ushered him in and closed the door quickly. “What are you doing here?”

He removed his scarf and hat, shaking off the snow that littered his shoulders and boots. “I came by to make sure you were alright. Didn’t know if you realized that cell service is sketchy, wanted to be sure you had everything you needed.”

“Yeah, I saw the winter storm advisory last night, made sure to hit the market this morning. Don’t tell me you walked all the way here from Seaside Park. That’s a few miles at least.”

“No, I have my dad’s truck,” he said then paused before unzipping his coat. Y/N could see in his eyes he came not just to check up on her, but because he wanted to stay a while.

“I’m fine, Nathan. Just watching the snow, reading and staying warm. I have everything I need.”

“Ok,” he said and half turned back to the door, then faced her again. He wore that crooked grin that she used to love so much. “Well then, maybe you need some company?”

“Sure. But I am going to tell you now, you can’t stay the night. You have to leave before the sun goes down.”

“Of course, Y/N. I just thought we could hang out for a bit.”

“Want some tea?”

“No,” he laughed. “I hate that stuff. I’ll take a soda if you got any, though.”

“Sorry, fresh out,” she said, but there’s water or juice in the fridge.

“Sweet,” he replied as he shrugged off his coat and hung it on the rack, then removed his boots before heading to the refrigerator and helping himself.

Y/N strolled back to the couch and reclaimed her place near the window that overlooked the ocean. She brought her knees up into her chest and watched Nathan as he moved about the kitchen and the living room just as naturally as he did in the old days. When he finally sat, he took the spot on the opposite end of the same couch she was on and rested his arm along the back of it.

Whenever Y/N and Nathan saw each other while she was visiting this time around, things were always awkward in the beginning. It didn’t matter if it was just for coffee, or on the few occasions that she actually let him take her to dinner. It was almost as if neither of them knew what to do with the situation or what to say to one another. But given enough time, they would end up finding a comfortable conversation.

Some of the time she’d watch him as he talked and recognize the man she used to love; same high cheekbones, same crooked smile, and sandy brown hair. Only now, his hair was short instead of the shoulder length it was when they were younger. His sky blue eyes were still able to lock her in and make her wonder how it had all gone so wrong between them. He had been the love of her life, her prince charming, the man who was going to save her from the kind of life that you grew up promising yourself you’d never live. But it had all gone so, so wrong.

She considered asking him, potentially broaching a long overdue conversation that they needed to have; especially if there was any possibility of a future. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to start. She tried to hide the smile that wanted to come when she wondered what Bri would say about that, but it quickly faded when she realized how much she missed Bri, too. That would make her thoughts circle back around to Austin, again, and how much she longed to go back.

“Hey, haven’t seen these in a long time,” he said and leaned forward, and plucked one of the photo albums from underneath the coffee table.

“Oh, yeah…” she replied and craned her neck over to see which one he picked up. They had been there since she showed Jensen the pictures from Grease, which now felt like a million years ago.

“Holy shit, high school pictures,” he laughed and started flipping through the album.

Over the course of the next hour, Y/N sat a foot or two away, yet enjoyed talking about old times with him. It felt good to laugh with Nathan again; it felt good to have her friend back. She didn’t notice that he was inching closer and closer until suddenly the arm that had been draped around the back of the couch was now brushing against her shoulder.

Nathan continued shaking memories loose; he brought up their junior prom, and how they had spent the night on the beach under the Tiki bar, getting drunk and screwing around until dawn before falling asleep together wrapped up in a blanket. She was smiling at the recollection, enjoying the feeling it brought back into her life when she felt his fingers toying with a tuft of her hair.

“I’ve really missed this,” he said softly. “A lot. I’m glad you’ve let me back in and gave me a chance to make it up to you.”

“Nathan, I… I don’t know--”

He inched closer, and what he did next surprised her. Before she could react, Nathan was brushing his lips against hers. Her eyes stayed open, but his drifted closed. It only lasted for a moment, but in that time Y/N realized that she knew everything she needed to know. She didn’t push him away, even though something inside of her told her too. Y/N kissed him back, but timidly, and without passion. His lips parted against hers, making it clear that he wanted it to escalate, but after a moment, Y/N broke away.

She retreated from him and brought her fingers up, pressing them gently to her lips. “Nathan... “

“Don’t, ok? Don’t say it was a mistake. Just, promise me that you won’t shut down on me. If I was being pushy--”

“It’s not that,” Y/N said and swallowed hard. “I care about your recovery, Nate. Seeing how well you’re doing has even allowed me to start forgiving you. But in the spirit of honesty, you should know that I’m not ready to be with you again. I don’t know if I ever will be. That doesn’t mean there is someone else. It means that I am going back to Austin, and I am focusing on work and don’t want anything sort of romantic entanglements.”

“Oh,” he sighed, clearly disappointed. “That doesn’t mean we have to say goodbye though, right? Can I still call you? Keep in touch?”

“Sure,” she said, and genuinely meant it. “As long as you understand, that, for now, I just want to be your friend.”

She watched him process this and had a second where she didn’t know how he would react. He wasn’t the same Nate she knew most of her life, and yet he wasn’t the last version she knew, either. Nathan was turning into a product of both of those men, and she was still learning his mannerisms and couldn’t always tell what he was going to do.

Nathan made it clear he wanted her back, and this rejection could be dangerous if he wasn’t as far into his recovery as he had said. But once his shoulders relaxed, and he picked his head up to meet her gaze, he smiled more like the Nate of long ago.

“Of course, Y/N. I get it. I’m going to keep showing you that you can trust me again though.”

“You just keep doing what’s best for you, Nate. That’s what would make me the happiest.”

Y/N’s cell began ringing in the with the familiar tone of Robbie’s FaceTime calls. She hesitated to answer it, but also didn’t want to miss out on a chance to talk to him knowing there were some meetings coming up they needed to prep for.

“Excuse me,” she said to Nathan and got up from the couch, pulling the cell out of her pocket as she did.

Y/N moved through the room and stood at the precipice of the hallway as she answered the call.

“Hey Robbie, what’s shakin’?” she answered in greeting.

“Thank God you picked up. When are you coming back, lady? I need you in Austin. I won’t be able to get back to there for another week or so. Any chance you’re heading back soon?”

“I’m working on it Robert,” she replied with a sigh. “The damned snow, however, has other plans.”

“Soon-ish, then?”

“Yes, my darling. Soonish. Honestly, as soon as the airports open up, I’m getting a ticket and will be on my way.”

“Did he tell you that the TCAC meeting was pushed back to the end of February?” Robbie asked into the camera, and the concern she saw on his face made her feel guilty.

“No,” she answered softly.

Her disappointment was not lost on Robbie. He hesitated, not wanting to make her feel worse, though he knew Jensen had been avoiding her. He didn’t have all the details about what happened between them but knew enough to know something had. “He’s been crazy busy, you know. Traveling like a lunatic. I’m sure he just forgot.”

“I’m sure,” she agreed and immediately wanted to change the subject. “So, the grant proposals? Any word?”

“Yes! Actually,” Robbie paused, relieved that she was the one to shift gears and shuffled through some papers that were off screen. He held up two and smiled victoriously. “We got two approvals! One from the Austin Creative Alliance and another just came through yesterday from one of the Federal ones. Buuuttt… can’t seem too…” he drifted off to the side, leaning out of the camera frame again.

Y/N chuckled. “Rob, it’s fine, come on back.”

She shifted away from the wall by the hallway and wandered into the kitchen to put the tea kettle back on the stove. As she did, Rob came back into view and noticed Nathan in the background of her call.

“Oh, hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company. I won’t keep ya while I look for it.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah… that’s ok. My friend Nate dropped by to be sure I was stocked up for the storm. He’s leaving soon, so if you need to go over more stuff later, I’ll be here.”

“Oh great. The band and I are going in to talk to a guy about some stuff coming up, so maybe I will give you a call later. This way you can be totally caught up before heading back to Austin. Which reminds me… did you make your travel arrangements yet for Boston or San Diego?”

“Yes. I am heading to Boston, San Diego and Seattle starting end of February through March. Couple days in each to secure all the contracts with the vendors. Oh, New Orleans, too.”

“Perfect. That means you’ll be back and able to head to Chicago with us, right? Same weekend as ChiCon? Thought we could meet up there and go check out a few bands.”

“Works for me,” Y/N said, and then realized that there would be no avoiding Jensen that weekend.

“Fantastic, you’re a gem, you know that?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere Robert.”

“Love it when you call me Robert,” he teased. “Ok, they’re yelling for me. I’ll talk to you later!”

“Bye,” she chuckled and ended the video call. She returned the phone to her pocket and continued to fix herself a cup of tea.

“So, work friend?” Nathan asked, getting up from the couch and heading into the kitchen now that her call was through.

“Yes.”

“Nice guy?”

“Yes, he is.”

Nathan nodded, leaned back against the counter and noticed she had only one cup out. “If you wanted me to go, you could just say so. I mean, you told him I was leaving soon. One cup out…”

Y/N sighed softly and tried to not turn the visit sour. “I thought you hated tea? Besides, it’s getting late. As well as things have been between us, I am not ready for you to stay here. With the weather being what it is, you probably should head back to your mom’s. I’m sure she could use your help with your dad being laid up with his foot in a cast. Can’t be easy for her to manage this weather on her own.”

He nodded, though she could see him straining to keep his mouth shut.

“I’m not trying to shut you out, Nathan. I genuinely have enjoyed hanging out with you again. You know, after all that shit happened--with the fight, and your life spiraling out of control--I never thought you’d be you again. Or that I would even be able to stand to be in the same room as you. But, here we are. Can’t that be enough for now?”

Nathan’s shoulders relaxed. “Don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Not if you want this to continue.” She was blunt, but she needed to be. Y/N didn’t want to take any chances where Nathan was concerned.

“Alright,” he finally replied and pushed off the counter. He went to take his coat off the hook and as he laced his arms through the sleeves, turned to face her again. “I’m grateful you’re giving me another chance, Y/N. I am. So, you call the shots, ok? I know you’re busy, but maybe once your traveling calms down, I can even come to visit you in Austin. Never been to Texas before.”

The idea of him in Austin felt strange. There was a sudden fear that if the two different parts of her life came together like that it would blow up her entire world in some glorious fashion. Trying to neither encourage or discourage the idea of his visit, she simply shrugged, found her most pleasant smile and nodded.

Nathan moved across the kitchen and took her in an embrace before she had the chance to say no. It was a familiar feeling; similar to what one experience when finding an old winter coat they hadn’t worn in years. It may not fit properly anymore, but the quilting of the fabric brought back pleasant memories.

“Call me, ok?” he said before releasing her.

“Sure thing. Take care of yourself, Nate.”

When Nate opened the door to go, the wind whipped through and the day’s fading light allowed him just enough time to get home before going completely dark. When the door latched shut behind him, she felt a mild sense of relief that she was alone again. There were still a lot of things she wanted to have time to mull over before returning to Austin, especially before seeing Jensen again in Chicago. The extended trip home had been good for her, despite the reasons she ended up there. It allowed her time to be sure that Austin and the job were the things she truly loved and wanted in her life.

Even the time she spent with Nate had been helpful in coming to the conclusion that he wasn’t something that had to stand in her way anymore. Her feelings for Jensen were still confusing and muddled, but in her heart, Y/N felt sure that her time as Nate’s girlfriend had come to an end. Though unexpected, the kiss they had shared that night cemented that. She could find room in her heart for him as a friend, but there was no future for them as a couple.

Lost in thoughts, Y/N didn’t move from the counter until the kettle began to whistle behind her. She flipped off the burner, and as she poured the hot water into the cup, she felt determined to settle the Jensen business. With so many of her other uncertainties fading away, she wanted this one too as well. Taking her cell phone back out of her pocket, she went to the contacts in her messaging app and pulled up “Mama”. If anyone could help her sort things out, it would be that tall drink of water.

<<Hey, any chance you’re around once snowmaggedon stops?

It only took about ten seconds for her to respond.

>>I’ve always got time for you, sugar. Whatcha thinkin’?

<<Rehearsal?

>>Cancelled.

<<Damn. Ok, snow should be done by midnight. Coffee at my place in the AM?

>>Be there with bells on.

<<Knowing you, I expect nothing less. Luv u!

>>Back atcha

The following morning dawned bright, with a clear sky and a snowy beach that reflected the colors of sunrise. Mama was knocking on Y/N’s door by quarter past nine, holding a pastry box in one hand and a garment bag in the other.

Y/N opened the door to greet her, and immediately broke out into laughter as she realized that Mama was wearing sleigh bells in her hair.

“You’re a freak,” Y/N laughed and gave the woman a big wet kiss on her cheek. “But you’re my freak.”

“Always and forever,” Mama purred lowly, winking at Y/N as she handed off both the pastry box and bag. “Dear Lord, I have not been here in forever! When was the last time?”

“God… it has to be last spring, maybe. Maybe even Christmas prior.”

“Either way, too long. Though I see you’ve kept the decor fisherman chic. Please, when will you let me redecorate for you?”

“One day, I promise. But for now, I have some things I want to talk to you about.”

Y/N moved around her small kitchen, pouring coffee and unveiling the apple crumb cake Mama brought from Freedman’s Bakery. The smell of apples and cinnamon instantly filled the room and mixed with the aroma of the coffee, Mama began to hum.

“Mmmm MM! It smells good in here. Like a little slice of heaven,” she sighed and pulled out one of the two chairs at the kitchen table. Just as she sat, she gratefully took the hot mug Y/N offered her. “What sort of things do you have on your mind?”

“Well,” Y/N started, then pulled out a seat of her own and began to slice the crumb cake. “I texted you last night because I had something on my mind. However, I couldn’t sleep last night, and I started thinking about work, and had something else entirely to talk to you about.” Y/N was rambling and Mama sensed she was probably already a pot deep into the coffee.

“Honey,” Mama said and covered Y/N’s hands to get them to stop fidgeting with the cake. “Slow down. First things first… what was on your mind last night?”

She hesitated, unsure of how to start. “I didn’t get to tell you because you were in Florida, but I went to a New Year’s party, back in Austin.”

“Ok, sounds fun. Continue,” Mama said and motioned towards her before sipping at her coffee.

“Right. Well, I guess I should start with saying that when I was home for Christmas, Nate showed up here Christmas morning. Then, I went back early so I could go to this party with Jensen. He kissed me at midnight and then I panicked and ran out.”

Mama coughed as she tried to swallow her coffee and then carefully placed the mug back on the table. She grabbed a napkin and wiped at the corners of her mouth like the old southern debutante that she had once been. Once she regained her composure, she sat up straighter and looked Y/N squarely in the eye.

“You best start from the beginning and leave no detail out. Because hearing that you spent an evening with that luscious man is one thing, but also hearing that dickhead’s name in the mix has soured the first bit. Explain yourself, please. What the hell do you mean that Nathan was here on Christmas? Why didn’t you call me?”

“He took me by surprise. He wanted to talk.”

“And you let him in?”

“Yes...” Y/N replied with a sigh, knowing she would get a barrage of crap from Mama for that.

“I’m in shock. After what he did to you!?”

“I know… I just… I don’t know. He wanted to apologize. He’s working the twelve steps--”

“Twelve steps? Ha! Twelve steps…” she muttered. “I didn’t realize you could twelve-step your way out of being a shithead.”

“I know he was terrible then, but for a lot of years he wasn’t and I guess I wanted to know if there was anything good left in him. I saw a glimmer of who he used to be.”

“We need to move on from Nate, cause honey, it just makes my blood boil.”

“Ok, so after he left, I went back to Austin a few days later and went to a party with Jensen. We’ve been getting along great, working together well, and he’s a lot of fun.”

“Yes, he certainly is,” she mused, her expression quickly fading from aggravated to dreamy. “Now I believe you mentioned something about a kiss…”

“He did. WE did… at midnight,” Y/N answered and couldn’t help feeling the twist in her gut that was now associated with that night.

“And?”

“And… it…”

“Y/N?”

She shrugged. “I’ve never felt anything like that. Ever.”

Mama’s face relaxed into a euphoric afterglow. “Please, dear, sweet Lord in Heaven tell me you let that man have his way with you.”

“No!” Y/N laughed and got up from the seat. She was feeling anxious about it all; mostly because she felt so stupid for having run away from him. “It was amazing, and then I got nervous. Someone walked in and it gave me a moment to basically lose my mind and run.”

“You left?!” Mama’s jaw dropped and she quickly stood from the table. “What the--Child, I should whoop your ass. First, you let Nathan in this house, then you run out on that precious Texas boy? It’s like I don’t even know you,” she huffed.

Mama, for a woman of her generous height and weight moved across the kitchen in a heartbeat and lightly smacked the back of Y/N’s head twice.

“One for lettin’ Nathan in, the other for running out on Jensen!”

“Ow,” Y/N whined and rubbed the back of her head. Her brow furrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Trust me, I wish I knew why I do what I do. One second we were… you know, gettin’ handsy, and the next minute…” she shrugged.

“That son of a bitch Nathan… he was on your mind, wasn’t he?”

“Partially. It was more than that though. I’ve had two relationships in my life, Mama. Two. Nathan, and he who shall not be named.”

“Mmmm, yes. I forgot you had your own Voldemort. But that was what... six months after Nathan left and lasted for less than a month? You can’t count him… especially cause I can’t even remember his name.”

“Whatever, my point is, that both of these relationships were toxic. The last thing I want right now is another go-round with getting my heart broken. I should never have dated after Nathan, so figured I would try a one night stand. It left me so cold and empty. I don’t want that, either. I didn’t want to ruin a good friendship with Jensen, or have it turn toxic.”

“Sug, I get that. But you can’t push your feelings away every time they try and wake you up.”

“Can’t I? I love this job, Mama. I feel like I finally found what I am meant to do. What if we slept together, and it got weird. I wouldn’t be able to work with him. Besides, it’s not even all that happened.”

“What else?” she sighed and rubbed at her temples. “This should have been a Bloody Mary breakfast.”

Y/N ignored her quip. “The next day I told him I wanted to talk. He said he was busy. So I stopped by to drop off some contracts and it turned out he was home. He lied because he didn’t want to talk.”

“That’s why you are back here, instead of living in Austin?”

Y/N nodded and watched with anxiety as Mama seemed to sift through a host of quiet thoughts before deciding how to respond.

“If I didn’t love you as I do... I would smack you again.”

“Why?”

“He lied? So what?! You ran out on him! You know what that’s gonna do to a man’s pride. Hell, anyone’s pride?! Sugar, you… you need to stop lettin’ that heart of yours dictate all your decisions. That man--I spent time with him, ok? I saw how he watched you on that stage. You didn’t. I saw how his face lit up, and that gorgeous grin spread from ear to ear. You mesmerized him.”

Mama took Y/N’s chin between her fingers and lovingly lifted her face so their eyes could meet. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t like that boy.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, almost pathetically. “I do like him. But I’m also very scared of him.”

Mama considered this for a minute and smiled at her friend. “Then, you need to go back to Texas, make amends, and rekindle that friendship you two had been startin’. I think that will be how you stop being so damn scared.”

“I have a flight out tonight,” Y/N said and laughed when Mama raised both fists into the air in celebration.

“That’s my girl!”

“I mean, I won’t see him for a while, but I think you’re right. I owe him an apology. I just hope he can forgive me.”

“I have no doubt that he probably already has. Now, that’s settled… Nat--”

“No. I’ve given him enough thought lately. I’d rather talk about my burst of inspiration that I had last night.”

“Which was?”

“You, the whole troupe… I want you to perform at the festival.”

Mama’s eyes grew large, her plump dimpled cheeks expanding as the smile unfurled across her painted pink lips. “Shut the hell up! Seriously?”

“Yeah. I mean… I am still working out all the logistics, but, we have a few stages to fill and I thought who better than to take on one of the theaters for the Saturday night slot? Whatever you guys wanna do… it’s your call. We have a hotel all reserved for talent, so your accommodations are taken care of. And I am sure I could help you with the travel arrangements. I just need you guys to say yes, and you’re in.”

“Well slap my ass and call me Sally!” Mama cackled and smacked her knee; her southern lilt bolder than usual. “You best believe we’ll be there, suga!”

“Fantastic! I will get you all of the details as soon as I get back to Austin.”

“Well now, hold on one second… you know what’s funny,” Mama said and went into the living room to retrieve the garment bag she had brought with her. “I brought this today because I thought you may want it for something. Didn’t know what, but when Marie brought it into rehearsals last I was there, everyone agreed only you would be able to pull this costume off.”

She hung the hanger on the top door of the refrigerator and slowly unzipped the vinyl bag. Y/N softly gasped when she saw the frock Mama had brought her. It was a full-length strapless dress that had a corset top with a heart-shaped bustier with deep purple accents, streaming out into a black skirt that was shorter in the front and flowed out from the back. The skirt itself had black velvet swirls imprinted on the ebony material and heavily ruffled bottom that would give it an amazing look when it twirled.

“Mama…” she breathed and ran her fingers over the dark purple accents. “This is gorgeous.”

“It is. And in the bottom are the accessories. You have to wear this. At least once. And what a better place than at the festival. So, you agree to perform one number with us, then we will be there to fill your stage for an entire night.”

Y/N considered the offer and knew that she had to say yes. She hadn’t gotten to the point where she thought about her part in performing at the festival. Working behind the scenes had completely garnered all her attention, so this was the first time she gave it any real thought.

“Alright,” she said, “you win. I will take this back to Austin with me and put it aside for a night on stage with The Corsets. Do I get to pick the routine, or…?”

“Oh no, honey. I’m the Creative Director now,” Mama pinched her cheek and took her place back at the table. “Now, don’t think I am done talking about this whole Jensen situation. I wanna hear more details about this New Year’s Eve party…” She leaned back and sipped her coffee before taking a large bite of her crumb cake. “You best start talking.”

For the rest of the morning, Y/N caught Mama up on New Year’s Eve, including playing with Bri, hearing Jensen sing, the encounter with Dee all the way up to her moment in the game room. By the time the coffee was gone and the cake was only crumbs, Mama had heard the tale, soup to nuts, and sat there stunned, letting it all sink in.

They talked a while longer before Y/N realized the time and had to get ready to leave for the airport. Mama had hugged her tightly with both a warning and a promise before she left.

“I promise that we will put on one hell of a show for those Texans. But, in the meantime, stop being stupid and go kiss the cute boy. Let him know that you’re all in, even if it is a slow-moving gamble. You’ll regret it if you don’t. You hear? I’ll keep my promise to whoop you when I get to Austin if you don’t. Got it?”

“Yes, Mama,” Y/N laughed and embraced her again before watching her go out into the cold winter air.

Hours later, as she made her way through the airport and onto the plane, she felt good about going back. There were still a few lingering doubts about how she and Jensen would be with seeing each other again, but there was time to work on that. First, she needed to get back to Austin, her new home, and refocus herself completely on making the Brewfest as big, bold and beautiful as Jensen’s vision for it was. Outside of that, everything would just have to wait.

Much like Y/N expected, there wasn’t much of a chance to see Jensen through the rest of February and March. It was disappointing to her, mostly because she was really starting to miss him. His schedule in Vancouver changed last minute, which caused him to have to miss the Texas Creative Arts Council meeting as well as a few others he had intended to be at, in turn dashing her hopes of finally getting to talk face to face. Her own travel schedule picked up, as she zigzagged across the country meeting with business owners, sponsors, and supporters of the Hometown Brewfest extravaganza.   

The frequency of text exchanges between them increased, and it gave her a glimmer of hope that they could still work through whatever they needed to. As the weeks carried on, and the dates of ChiCon inched closer, Y/N found herself growing more and more anxious about finally having that moment.

Two weeks before, the whole group was in Nashville for a con, while Y/N was wrapping up some last minute business in New Orleans. She was chatting with Rob about a band she found by happenstance, and during the video call, Jensen passed behind him in the background. Her heart lept up in her throat, though she successfully kept her outward demeanor calm and collected. Y/N watched as Jensen did a double take as he noticed her on the screen of Rob’s phone. Leaning over his friend’s shoulder, he shoved his face in the camera and smiled, gave a simple wave and then was called away before he could actually speak.

It was enough to give her that final boost of confidence that they would be ok, but she still desperately needed to clear the air with him. That, however, wouldn’t happen for another two weeks when she found herself pacing the backstage area of the hotel in Chicago where the stars of Supernatural were gathering in preparation for a weekend full of panels, photo ops and a jam-packed concert with Robbie’s band.

Y/N had arrived that Saturday morning well after the festivities had gotten underway. Bri was the first person who she found and was greeted by an over-exuberant hug and the subsequent barrage of questions about everything under the sun. She was quickly whisked away to her panel with Kim, leaving Y/N holding her credentials and aimlessly wandering around the hotel. That was until she found herself on a mission to finally locate and talk to Jensen.

The extra wide hallway of the hotel outside the green room was carpeted with the ugliest yellow, gold and blue carpeting Y/N had ever seen. Though, as she paced it back and forth, she couldn’t take her eyes off of it. Eventually, she found herself pacing along the blue lines that intertwined between the yellow and gold diamond pattern. As ugly as it was, it was somehow keeping her nerves at bay. She could run into Jensen at any time now, and it took all of her willpower not to just turn and run… again.

She wouldn’t though. Her and Jensen needed to set things straight. She didn’t know if this was the way to do it, or what she would say exactly, but she knew it had to be done. Y/N had gotten a peek at his schedule when she checked in and got her credentials to be able to come and go as she pleased. He would be in the green room now, or at least on his way there. So that’s where she headed.

Y/N stalled once she reached the green room door, deciding that maybe just barging in and demanding he talk to her was a bad idea. That’s when the pacing started again and continued for several minutes. She bit on her lower lip and closed her eyes, hanging her head and trying to decide what to do.

She continued walking, but with her eyes closed, she didn’t realize she was walking off her pattern, and straight into oncoming people.

“Whoa there!”

Y/N looked up, and in horrific slow motion, realized she ran square into Jensen’s chest. His hands had gently grabbed her shoulders when they collided, and they lingered there now as recognition touched his features one by one. Seeing him again after so long felt like a shock to her system; her mouth went dry, and she could feel her hands starting to tremble. When she tried to swallow, it stuck like a lump in her throat cutting off the air to her brain and making her feel light headed.

“H-Hey,” she breathed.

“Robbie said you were gonna be here,” he said, then nervously ran his tongue out and over his bottom lip. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed, still unsure of what to say. “How’ve you been?” Her words were hesitant and staggered; her gaze unable to break from his.

Jensen finally realized his hands were still on her shoulders and quickly let go.

“Good. Busy, but good. You?”

“Better now that--”

The green room door opened with a bang, startling both Jensen and Y/N. Half a dozen people funneled out, mostly hotel staff, but Robbie was among them.

“Just who I was looking for!” he exclaimed and walked over to them. “You,” he said pointing to Jensen, “have about two minutes before Rich is gonna call you up for your panel with Misha. And you,” he turned to Y/N, “need to come with me while I got a quick ten minutes and figure out where we are going tonight if there’s time. There are a few clubs we gotta hit between tonight and tomorrow.”

“Can you just give us a minute, Rob?” Jensen asked him, and yet, his eyes still didn’t waver from Y/N’s gaze.  

“Uh, sure. I’ll be right over there, Y/N.” He looked hesitantly between them, and quietly stepped back and around the corner.

Jensen cleared his throat and turned back to her, unable to disguise just how nervous he was. “About what happened… I wanna, I mean, we should talk, but I do gotta go right now--”

“Right, of course,“ she said, taking a step back from him and suddenly scared to say what she wanted to. “We can do it another time.”

“Later, you’re scouting bands tonight with Rob? Sounds fun. Maybe if you’re not back too late--”

“Mr. Ackles!”

A small blonde haired woman popped her head from around the other end of the hallway and waved frantically for him to come.

“I gotta run,” he said but took a beat to hold her gaze a little longer. It took the impatient little woman at the end of the hallway calling him again, to get his feet moving.

Jensen took a few steps in the direction he had to go, then turned to face her as he walked backward down the corridor. He chuckled nervously and Y/N felt a rush of relief when she realized he seemed truly happy to see her.

“Don’t go far, okay? The panel only lasts about an hour. Maybe we could talk after?  I’d really like too--”

“Jensen, please, the panel is starting!” The woman was pleading with him now.

“I’ll be around, Hollywood. Come find me,” she shrugged, trying to be calm, cool and casual. Y/N held back as best she could, but Jensen got the idea that she was happy to see him, too.

“You got it, Trix. I’ll come to find you.” The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk, and as he continued to walk away from her, Y/N could hear his happy chuckle fade down the hallway. Just before he turned and disappeared completely, he paused and gave Y/N a wink before heading off to his panel.

When he had disappeared around the far corner, she sighed heavily and laughed to herself, completely overcome with relief. A moment later she heard Robbie walk up behind her and clear his throat.

“Everything go ok?” he asked hesitantly.

Y/N nodded. “Yeah,” she said and did her best to stow the overwhelming relief she had over that encounter with Jensen. “I think we’ll be good.”

“Good,” Robbie said and slung his arm over her shoulders. “Now, let’s talk about the weekend, shall we?” He turned her around and guided her in the opposite direction.

The panel, one that he normally loved doing, felt like an eternity on that particular Saturday afternoon. Jensen and Misha answered questions, engaged in their usual banter, and of course, made a room of hundreds of people scream and laugh with delight. He did his best to maintain his normal energetic vibe, but even Misha could see that his mind just wasn’t in the game.

Instead, Jensen’s mind was firmly stuck on Y/N.

She was there, in the same city, in the same hotel just a few hundred feet away. All he wanted to do was go and see her, talk to her, hash this dumb shit out that made them lose three months of getting closer; three months of seeing her smile, hearing her voice and getting to know more about her.

Jensen was pissed at himself for weeks after New Year’s Day. Regardless of whether he had the right to be upset at her or not, he reverted to his petty and childish demeanor, where women were concerned, and he beat himself up for it. His knee jerk reaction to her running out had everything to do with Dee, and not so much Y/N herself. He needed to tell her that’s why he lied about something so stupid to avoid her. Y/N would understand… that’s what made her different.

Y/N had made the effort, hadn’t she? She came to leave the envelope, and in it was her plea to talk to him. She wanted to explain herself, but at that moment he just couldn’t let her. Then she ran back to New Jersey so fast, which initially made him angry. But it didn’t take him long to realize that she’d been through just as much bullshit with her past as he had, and instead of being angry, he should try and sympathize.

Weeks later he happened to talk to Rob who’d mentioned in passing that he had a FaceTime call with Y/N. It had been in the middle of the snowstorm towards the end of January that she told Rob she would be coming back to Austin. That wasn’t all though, was it? As Jensen sat on the panel stage, and half listened to Misha tell a story about his daughter that made the crowd roar with laughter, he was thinking about the guy hanging out with Y/N while she was home; the one Robbie saw in the background that day. As if on cue, he laughed at Misha’s story, joining in with the rest of the ballroom, but on the inside, he was simmering with jealousy.

Jensen wondered if that was the same “old friend” that showed up at her place on Christmas, and of course, couldn’t help but be curious if that guy was part of why she’d run out on him. Swallowing down the bile that rose in his throat, he continued on with his Q&A with the fans and tried to forget it for the time being.

Finally, the panel had come to an end, with it also being their last panel of the day. Misha was escorted to his last set of photo ops, while Jensen was able to head back to the green room, hoping that he would once again bump into Y/N.

The hallway where he had left her was now empty, as was the green room. He considered calling her and asking where she was, but instead texted Rob and asked if they were still together.

<<Hey man, is Y/N still with you?

>>Nah, she went to check a few places out while it was still light out. She’ll be back for SNS.

Jensen sighed and sent back a quick reply, then tucked his phone away and headed back to his own room to get ready for that night’s concert.

Louden Swain took the stage around nine that night. They played through a few of their originals, and then a handful of covers with some of the cast. Jensen knew he’d go up for a couple of songs, but he was holding out until the end so he could catch Y/N.

“Hey handsome,” Bri greeted, coming up alongside where Jensen was sitting, startling him out of his thoughts. “How’d your day go today?”

“Great,” he said with a tired smile. “Long day though. How about you?”

“Oh you know, fantastic. Kim and I kicked ass. Had some great ops… a cocktail or two in between. You know, the usual.”

“That’s my girl,” he teased and then perked up thinking she could help him. “Any chance you’ve seen Y/N around?”

“Yes! Earlier today when she first came in, then about five minutes ago. She’ll be here in a second, why? Got something you need to say to her? Hmmmm?” Bri raised one perfectly manicured brow at him, challenging him to open up a bit more.

“Yes. Actually, I do.”

“Good boy. I know she wants to talk to you too--” From the stage, Bri heard her cue to go up with Robbie for her song. “Look, she’s around. Talk. To. Her. Then, keep her close, I’m gonna need her.” She wiggled her brows and stuck her tongue out playfully before bounding up the short set of steps that would take her backstage.

Jensen chuckled as she disappeared behind the curtain and out to the roar of applause from the crowd. He tried to think of what he would be doing that night with the band. Jason was playing too, and they talked about The Joker and maybe Whipping Post. He closed his eyes and ran through both songs, half hearing Robbie and Bri singing “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” coming from the stage. He certainly didn’t hear Y/N and she came from around the corner and stood in front of him.

“Hey stranger,” she said softly. Despite the music coming from close behind him, he heard her perfectly.

Jensen opened his eyes and thought maybe he was just imagining her there. She looked different than she had earlier. Gone was her T-shirt and ripped jeans, a look that he really loved on her. Now she wore the tight blue jeans and knee-high boots with a black and white, long sleeve peasant-style blouse that was loosely tied at the neck and open enough to accentuate her cleavage. Jensen had a split-second thought about what she had on beneath it before he was able to make himself speak again.

“Hey yourself,” he breathed, standing up from the platform he was sitting on. “How’s your, uh, you know, how’s it--”

“I’m good, Jay. Robbie asked me to come back for the concert. Glad you stuck around. Are you going up there tonight?”

Jensen nodded, suddenly tongue-tied and unsure of what to say.

“They sound great,” Y/N motioned towards the stage and took a few steps closer. “That’s a great song.”

“It is,” he said, but needed to say more and was tired of waiting. “Y/N,” he paused and waited for her to face him. She did, and he could tell she knew what he was about to say. “About New Year’s…”

“Jay, wait. Before you say anything… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for running away like I did. I shouldn’t have--”

“It's okay. I shouldn’t have lied about the stupid movie. It was all so…”

“Stupid?”

“Childish. I guess I could give you a laundry list of reasons--”

“But they wouldn’t matter,” she said quietly and cast her gaze down to her feet. When she looked up at him again, he saw something in her face that made him relax and understand she wanted to move on as badly as he did.

“Yeah. Can we just,” he sighed and shrugged, “just get back to being friends?”

“Yes. I want that, more than anything,” she sighed in relief.

“Good,” he breathed and took a hesitant step closer to her. Y/N stepped in and put her arms around his neck to hug him. Though it took him by surprise, he didn’t waste a second in returning the embrace. She felt so good in his arms as they snaked their way around her waist. It took a lot of willpower on his part to stop himself from nuzzling his face into her neck and drawing in a deep breath of her scent.

From the stage, the music shifted and while the band kept playing, Bri popped her head through the curtain and saw Y/N with Jensen.

“Hate to break up this very much needed moment, but Y/N, I need you up here please.”

Jensen reluctantly released her and saw the scheming look in Briana’s eyes. He narrowed his gaze at her, and she just slyly winked. “Come on slowpoke! They’re waiting.”

“Who’s waiting?” she asked, looking curiously between Jensen and Bri.

“Everyone…” Bri replied and swept back the curtain so Y/N could see the audience.

“What? Oh no, I didn’t--I’m not--”

“You are, and you can. Come on, lady! Time to get your cute little ass up here and sing on stage with me and Robbie.”

Y/N looked to Jensen to save her, but he just shook his head. “Oh no, I’m with Bri on this one. Like I’d ever pass up a chance to watch you on stage.”

Realizing she was being ganged up on, Y/N sighed as her chin fell to her chest in defeat and she made her way up the small set of stairs. “I hate you both,” she chided and both Bri and Jensen rolled their eyes.

Jensen watched from backstage as she got up next to Robbie who was on the mic and introduced Y/N to the crowd. When he spoke about the Brewfest the crowd cheered, and it was the first time Jensen understood just how much work she’d been putting into it, not just into organizing things, but getting the word out to the public about the upcoming event.

Robbie leaned over and whispered something in her ear, Y/N nodded and faced the crowd, giving them a wave. Jensen saw how they seemed to love her already and they hadn’t even heard her sing yet. Robbie faced the band and signaled the next song as the familiar beat of Heart’s “What About Love” kicked in.

Y/N started to sing, and Jensen felt his knees go weak. It had been a while, too long he would say if someone had asked him since he had heard her sing. She fell right into the groove with the band, completely unaware of how sexy and majestic she was on the stage. Bri was beside her, sharing the verses and singing harmonies together. They blended effortlessly with Robbie’s voice, too. Y/N held the notes and used her strong bravado to carry them out, once again making the crowd go wild.

Hints of jealousy filled Jensen, but not because of the reaction she was garnering, but because he wasn’t on stage next to her. How could he have not sung with her yet? At least strummed a guitar while she sat across from him, her tender pitch humming along with whatever he was playing. It suddenly became of utmost importance to him to share a stage with her, but for now, he just hung back and relished in the way her voice made him feel. Anyone that saw him watching her would know that he was so clearly infatuated with this girl, and almost nothing would have pulled him away.  

As the song wound towards the end, Jason breezed past Jensen, smacking his shoulder along the way.

“Almost ready, brother? Gonna kick it off with ‘The Joker’, right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah! Just like we said, call me in when you’re ready.”

“You got it!” Jason replied before running out on the stage.

Jason handled the first chorus, and during the musical interlude, he brought Jensen up and he easily slipped into the version of himself he brought out on the Saturday Night Specials. He noticed that Briana and Y/N were still up there, yet off towards stage right, and singing along with the chorus of the song. Jensen casually strolled in their direction, just feeling the need to be as close to Y/N as possible. The moment the music came back around to where he picked up the song, happened to be the same moment that Jensen walked around behind her, then was at her side. Without giving it a second thought, he draped his arm around her shoulders and sang the lines directly to her… their eyes locked as if he was speaking solely to Y/N and not to a room of hundreds of people.

“You’re the cutest thing I ever did see…

Really love your peaches wanna shake your tree

Lovey-dovey lovey-dovey lovey-dovey all the time...

Oooey baby I sure show you a good time…”

The song played on, and eventually, he moved back across the stage and sang out to the crowd. But the expression that came to rest on her face was not something he would ever forget. He caught glimpses of her smiling as her eyes followed across the stage. He liked how it felt for her to watch him; he felt uninhibited and free to be himself.

When it was over, he was disappointed as Bri grabbed Y/N’s hand now that their turn on stage was done. They waved to the audience and the band transitioned into “Whipping Post” while they exited through the back.

As Jensen belted out line after line of The Allman Brothers song, he wished Y/N had stayed out there with them and secretly hoped she was watching from backstage. Thank God he was singing a song he knew without having to think about because all his mind could really focus on was how good it felt to have her back around. At that moment, Jensen had felt better than he had in a very long time. 

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[spooky-nooodle]

Can I have a Dragonslayer family picture Please? I'm sick of searching "RWBY Dragonslayer family" and getting nothing but Bumblebee results.... Bee fans...didn't treat me so nicely when I suggested we just leave the writers alone and stop fighting over our ships

“Baaabe!”

Shit. They were gonna be so late.

“I’m coming!”

Yue snickered next to her, kicking up a cloud of dirt and watching it blow around in the wind.

“Babe!” Yang called up into the house again, grabbing her son by the shoulder so he’d quit kicking dirt in her face.

“I said I’m coming!” Jaune staggered down the stairs, a rumpled green duffle bag clenched in his fist. Yang saw the duffle bag and despaired.

“Babe!”

Jaune looked down at the empty bag, “Okay, look! Did you want me to get bag?”

“I wanted you to get the stuff in the bag. That was our sunscreen and stuff.”

“Then why didn’t you say you wanted me to get the sunscreen?”

Yang held a finger to her forehead, “Because I thought ‘Get the swim bag’ made enough sense. Why did you empty it out?!”

Jaune shrugged, and same sand fell out of the duffle bag. “Thought it was a special bag, or something. The stuff was all dusty.”

“Because we never go swimming anymore, babe! Just, go get the sun screen.”

“Sure thi- Boys!” Jaune’s bark was sharp, but well practiced. Yang wearily turned around to see Yue and Xing attempting to tie the car seat of their younger sister to a tree, so that she would be yanked against the door of the car once they started driving.

Yang waved Jaune off back upstairs, and walked to the tree, the wind picking up and creating little dust devils in the driveway.

“Guys, that’s kind of dangerous. Whadya thinks gonna happen to Summer?”

Xing shrugged, and finished the knot in his rope. “She’s gonna fall over in the car,” his voice was scratchier than his twins, not helped by his constant dehydration.

Yang bent down and held his sandy hair out of his face. “Yeah, but we’re gonna be leaving kinda fast. What if she hits her head? That wouldn’t be funny, would it?”

Xing and Yue looked at each other, and started undoing the rope.

Yang nodded in approval and straightened up, cracking her back briefly. Jaune had managed to get together the swimming things, though part of a towel was falling out of the opening, the zipper seemingly jammed in the hairs.

Her husband-- flip flops, lanky blonde hair, faded t shirt that hugged his chest, and long cargo shorts-- jogged up to her through the growing summer storm. “Have you talked the boys out of killing their sister?”

“I don’t think they thought it through.”

Jaune raised his eyebrows at her. She laughed and rubbed his shoulders. “Yes, the boys have untied Summer from the tree.” Her eyes seemed to drink him in, tracing over his temples, the stubble around his jaw, the way one of the locks of his hair fell over his forehead and clung to the curve of his nose.

“What?” he asked.

“Hm?”

“You’re just looking at me.”

She leaned forward and kissed him softly. “Counting my stars, I guess.”

He chuckled and leaned back into her, giving her another soft kiss. They could hear Yue and Xing gagging from the corner of the car, and Yang could practically hear Jaune roll his eyes.

“Alright boys! Saddle up! Let’s go see your grandpa.”

I think it’s important to recognize that any group of ‘shippers’ is gonna be made out of a very, very distinct group of people. The people who like Bumbleby because it’s cute, who don’t bother anyone and just make content and headcanons? They don’t go out and pick fights with other people, because they’re too busy doing and making more of what they love. 

It’s the same way that the Jaune stans who throw shit at shippers or commission art of their most hated characters being tortured, they don’t exactly represent you and me, now do they? 

Point is, don’t let resentment get to you. The assholes win a lot more by ruining your day, and you’re a lot happier by making more of the content you want to see.

I’m sorry this ask took me so long to get to, but I hope this little drabble makes your day better. 

(Also, uh, I think you may have assumed that I’m an artist. Sorry for the nasty shock. I’m about as competent with a pencil as I am with a samurai sword, and you won’t see me serving any feudal lords any time soon.)

[princessamericachavez]

How do you think the M9 will react to meeting/dealling with lord Sharp? Especially if he will do something to Jester? (It's one of the things I'm most scared of everytime they go back to nicodranas)

How do you think Fjord would react if Lord Robert Sharpe attempted to kill Jester next time they go to Nicodranas?

The thing is, they let their guard down. After all, they are feeling pretty well about themselves. They just went into enemy territory, faced armies of Kryn and made it out alive —bruised and scarred, but alive. Going back to Nicodranas is a breath of fresh air, it almost feels like home. Marion receives them with open arms and Yuzza with a light scolding, but overall their spirits are up for the first time since they arrived in Felderwin. 

Caleb suggests Jester take a couple days with her mother at the Chateau and this time, with no pressing matters weighing down on them, both of them are happy to take the one on one time. Fjord agrees that it is a good idea to give them some space, especially because he feels like they are abusing of Marion’s kindness by staying freely at her place for too long. Renting a couple of rooms in the city seems like the better choice to go with. Jesters absence, however, leaves a hole in the group, an empty space of silence in conversation, a lack of chaotic ideas from Nott, a beat waiting for a playful joke that never comes. Fjord won’t admit to it out loud, but he’s selfishly glad that the time she’s taken to be home is not that long either.

The second day in Nicodranas, they take their time to see the city. Orley receives them in the port and him and Fjord go through the Ball Eater’s latest trips. It’s not enough to earn them a fortune, not by far, but it keeps the men paid and the ship going. They really need to change the name, though. He’ll have to talk Jester into painting a new one before they leave town. The rest of the day they spend by the sea, watching the beautiful colors of the sky as the sun sets on the horizon.

“Maybe we could camp out here this time,” Caduceus says as they start picking up their things.

“Our rooms are paid for already, though,” Fjord frowns. “I’d hate for it to go to waste.”

“Besides, the blue one will probably want to camp here too with us. She’ll be upset if she misses it,” Caleb points out as Nott hops on his back.

Fjord nods. It’s weird to think Caleb is carrying a grown married mother in his back like that. He used to think of Nott as a younger girl, but now that he knows her better the whole thing seems off to him. The two of them seem comfortable with the dynamic’s arrangement, though, so he’s not one to judge. 

“Mister Fjord?” The Innkeeper intercepts him before he heads up to his room. 

Fjord represses a groan. He’s tired and sandy and all he wants right now is to take a bath and go to bed, but he manages to put on a polite smile as the mousy man approaches him.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. I just- You got a message while you were gone. Your presence is requested at the Lavish Chateau,” he says, eyeing Fjord up and down as if trying to figure out how someone of his kind gets an invitation to such a renowned place. 

“Thank you,” Fjord nods, keeping his pleasant mask up and turns to the rest of his friends. “Hey, chucklefucks, looks like we’re having dinner at Jester’s.”

They clean up and make their way to the Chateau about an hour later but their high spirits crumble to the ground as they make it through the door. A dark feeling curls like a snake inside Fjord’s stomach as he takes in the once pristine lobby. The tables and chairs are turned and broken, several curtains have been ripped down, there’s glass from broken windows and cups on the floor. The employees seem to be trying to clean it up but the whole place looks like a battle took place in it.

“Jester?!” His voice cuts through the grim air of the room as he stalks forward. No answer. “Jester?”

What happened here?

Fjord runs stairs up, followed by the others. No one tries to stop them. He skips the stairs four by four until he reaches the Ruby’s hallway. Blud is standing by the door, face even grimmer than usual and bulging arms crossed over his chest. There are deep cuts on his fur and dried blood on his face. He blocks their path with a huff.

“We are Jester’s friends,” Beau intercedes. “She called for us.”

His frown deepens. She didn’t-

Fjord pushes past the minotaur before he can fully move out of the way and he all but runs into Marion’s room before he knows what she’s doing. Jester’s mother seems to have aged five years in two days. Her dark hair is pulled up into a messy bun, her eyes are puffy and her whole demeanor seems broken. When he breaks in, she squeaks with fear, trying to close her robe further. Suddenly self-aware, Fjord stops on his tracks and slows down. 

“What happened here?” He asks softly, approaching her until he can kneel before her chair.

Her make-up tells the story of shed tears.

“My Jester. They came for my Jester.”

“When?”

“A few hours ago. We were just having lunch and they-they broke in, started trashing everything up, demanding for her. I tried to tell her to run but she wanted to fight them.”

Of course, she did.

“Where is she?”

“They grabbed me,” Marion covers her face with one hand and shakes her head. “She said she would go with them if they let me go.”

“Miss Ruby, where did they take her?”

“Lord Sharpe.”

“Ah, fuck,” Beau hisses behind Fjord.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Nott jumps. “It’s that the dick lord that wanted to kill her?”

“What?” Caduceus looks around with a frown.

Marion lets out a quiet sob. Following an instinct, Fjord puts a hand on her shoulder. 

“We’ll find her,” he assures her earnestly. “I promise. We won’t let him hurt her.”

What if it’s too late? A dark voice whispers inside his head but he refuses to acknowledge the possibility. It can’t be. She can’t be dead.

“We’ll get her back,” he repeats, standing up and making her way out of the room. 

“We need to hurry up,” Caleb says, catching up to him. “Do we know if she’s still alive.”

“She is,” Fjord snaps, sending the wizard a warning look. 

He can feel something dark recoiling inside him, furious and hungry, and he knows if he was offered all the powers of the ocean right now in exchange to save his friend, he would have damned the world in a heartbeat. 

Beau puts a hand on his arm as if she could feel that storm inside him too. 

“She’s alright. These rich fuckers are too prideful to have this go quietly. He was embarrassed, he’ll want to make an example out of her. Whatever he’ll do, he’ll want to make it public.”

“Then we better hurry. Where do we find this Lord Sharpe? Seems like we should have a word with him,” Caduceus says, voice calm and firm.

The others start arguing over their next course of action. All Fjord knows is that he has no intention of sharing ‘words’ with this man if he’s so much as touched a hair in Jester’s hair. 

He doesn’t even realize the falchion in his grip and the hungry eye, watching and ready to consume the anger drumming in his heart right now.