#i added his rat because his shoulder looked lonely

[willstragicapples]

wow this took a long time!! for school so i actually finished it…… william study

[obsidiancreates]

Self-Indulgent Thing (HOK meets Dragonborn)

"So you're not Sheogorath."

The being sits back, kicking it's boots up onto the table. The form of the elderly man is faint and transparent now, a reflection in riverwater and nothing more. "Sure I am. Jyggalag hates me too much for me to be anyone else at this point."

The Dragonborn leans forward in her seat, placing one arm on her knee. "But your secretary-"

"Haskill? Ah, he misses former management. I bounce around between planes a bit much for his tastes, but I can't help it! Adventure runs in my blood, if I have that anymore. Care to check? I'll gut you if you do, but then we'll learn if you have blood, so something will be gained either way really."

"Try to gut me, and I shall cut you down."

"Adorable. Adorable! You and I are so alike, dear. Have you felt the taste of death in your throat too? Blood gushing into your mouth after one lucky strike from a go- no, you don't have goblins in Skyrim, do you? No goblins or zombies or even rats, it's all Skeevers- there I go again. Well, to make a long story short, I went through a very long process to get this job and only died a few times along the way, but you and I, we're not beholden to stuff and nonsense like permanent death."

The Dragonborn's eyes go wide. "How do you know about-"

"All the great heroes of the ages do it, apparently, why I met the most delightful spirit from Morrowind during a particularly interesting outing who-"

"Enough!" The Dragonborn slams her fit on the stone stool beside her. "Finish your story and release me from this plane! I have many tasks to complete!"

"Yes, yes, Alduin and all that. I knew a Dragonborn, far far back before I went through the interview process, as I mentioned before. You're nothing like him, and he couldn't do that fancy little shout trick either. I'm tempted to rip out your soul and life essence to see if it looks like a dragon!"

"You aren't capable of such things."

"I might not be! I've never tried. It's only been two hundred years, you see, so much to build on! So much the old bastard figured I'd figure out on my own. There's no handbook for How To Be A Daedra Lord, you know! Or there wasn't. I had Haskill write one, but it was more like a list of complaints about my leadership style, and then another page was added when I let him off with only a warning!"

"Why do you keep me here?"

"I'm lonely. The Dragonborn I knew was my... friend. And he's paling around now with the Divines, bah, and I am rejected by them despite all my work in The Oblivion Crisis just because I got into a spot of trouble in my grief and became a Prince of Madness!"

"... No."

"No?"

"You want to be my companion. My answer is no."

"Companion? Hardly. Mentor, accomplice, Daedra on your shoulder? Absolutely. I miss wandering landscapes, fighting in grand arenas, becoming so weighed down with precious, precious loot that I can't even walk! The Shivering Isles are a madness of logic, a predictable madness, and I'm damn tired of it! Almost makes me wish Jyggalag would come RAZE IT ALL TO THE GROUND like he did before I took over!"

"I need no mentor."

"You'll let the old shut-ins who only fight frostbite and malnourishment mentor you but not me? I'm an experienced adventurer! I traveled all of Cyrodiil, destroyed gates to Oblivion itself across the entire land, worked hand-in-hand with two Emperors of the Septim line! I aided in the defeat of Mehrunes Dagon, which he still gives me flack for at every crossing of our paths, absolutely ruins the atmosphere of the potlucks I try to set up between the Princes. I am Sheogorath, I am the Grand Champion, and I am the gods-damned HERO OF KVATCH!"

The dream-like world trembles at the shout, the garishly bright colors surrounding the picnic area seeming to blur and melt! The amber-coated trees bend and keel like a bandit shot with an arrow straight through the chest, the butterflies drop and begin to dig, the being itself seems to warp and twist and show hundreds and thousands of faces of all races and ages and something deeper stronger more unknowable-

"FUS, RHO DAH!"

The shout does not topple Sheogorath.

But the mere act seems to stun it. The world snaps back into place, colors no longer melting out of the sky and tree no longer reaching for The Dragonborn's throat and creatures of the air no longer seeking shelter in the dirt. Sheogorath blinks at The Dragonborn, mouth agape.

And then it grins.

"Well well well! There's a little spunk! Didn't I tell you, Haskill?"

"Very wise, my lord."

The Dragonborn nearly drives a dagger into Haskill's thigh, but the inhuman man simply ceases existing, and then exists again by Sheogorath's side.

"It's settled then." Sheogorath stands. It's form is no longer shifting, but it's not solid either. A vague shape, no more. "I'll be coming with you whether you want it or not! I know you'll try to use that little shout there to send me off cliffs and such- I knew a fellow, small, terrible hair, who decided to follow me around no matter what back when I became Grand Champion, and oh did I grow weary of him. But he stuck around, and so will I, and I'll grow on you like mold! In the best way, of course."

"I already have a companion."

"You do, you do. I never got any sort of reward like an entire person for saving cities, and I'm not sure how I feel about your attainment of the poor girl really. But now you have two companions!"

"I will not travel with a Daedra."

"You won't be."

Shifting, solidifying- the form of Sheogorath becomes that of a mortal, armor and all. The style of the armor and weapons alike are old, ancient even, and clearly none of it is of Skyrim make. Sheogorath shakes itself, letting out a sigh.

"Been too long since I brought out the old mortal form! Ah, the bones and joints are creaking! How do I fix that, Haskill?"

"Will it to be so, my lord."

"What a boring answer. Mmm, effective though. Right! Let's be off, I'll be back whenever I'm back!"

The Dragonborn scowls. "There's no stopping you."

"Not unless you want to get stuck in a loop forever. My powers may have changed over the years, but I can still reset reality with the best of them! Which is you, and that lovely Morrowind spirit I mentioned before, and-"

"How can I possibly trust you through this?"

"Not very good at flowing conversation, are we? You can trust me because I'm not trustworthy, so it all loops back around!"

"I'm not one of your worshippers. I will not accept madness as reason."

"Fine. You can trust me because I'm here for the same reason as you. Adventure."

"... Keep close to me, and don't speak to others."

"Not a chance! But don't worry about me ruining your little quests, I told you I'm experienced with this. How much could have changed in Mundas in the last two hundred years anyway?"

[xmalereader]

Thomas Shelby X Vampire! Male Reader

-

|| Masterlist ||

-

This short imagine goes to my friend here!! @fanficsforheartandsoul They had such a wonderful idea that I couldn’t help but write it out! So please enjoy and have fun with the fluffy stuff!

Summary: Reader is a vampire doctor who works with the Shelby family but the Shelby family has no idea that they are friends with a blood thirsty vampire.

Warnings: fluff, bat traits, Thomas knowing everything, blood, gore, and slight angst.

—

—

“Where are you going?” Thomas asks Polly as he watches her get ready. “What? Now I have to tell you everywhere I go?” She shot back as she fixes her hat and grabs her coat that hung by the door. “I’m going to see Michael, he’s been the hospital for awhile now and I want to make sure that he is recovering properly.” She explains to Thomas as she gives herself one last look in the mirror and turns towards the table to snatch up a small dbrown bag which catches Tommy’s eye. “What’s in the bag?”

Polly rolls her eyes. “Do you have to ask about everything?”

“Just want to be safe, Polly. Michael is in the hospital due to a rival of ours getting to him and I just want to make sure that you are safe. Don’t want to lose anymore family members.” Polly can only sign at Tommy’s words as she turns to face him. “These are just apples for Dr. Hemlock. Heard the young man likes fruits more than anything else—its like the poor man doesn’t eat at all due to him working late hours in the hospital.” She collects her things and sighs. “No wonder he is so pale.” She added before giving Thomas one last look. “Well than, off I go.” She says before leaving the house and heading towards her own car that Thomas had gifted her on one of her birthdays.

Tommy walks over to the window, pulling the curtain back he watches Polly drive away from the house. Once she turned the corner and disappeared down the road that’s when tommy steps away from the window and sighs deeply. “Dr. Hemlock, eh?” He murmurs to himself as he pulls out a cigarette and lights it up. He inhales some of the smoke before blowing it out, tilting his head up as he stares at the ceiling and hums. “I didn’t know vampires ate.”

On the way to the hospital. Polly makes sure to park her car close by, not wanting to park to far out and get into any danger If she were to be around an isolated area where she could easily be taken. She makes sure to take the bag of fruit before entering the hospital.

The Shelbys were known around town that even the hospital knew when a Shelby were to arrive, some of the nurses and doctors feared them since they were the ruthest and most troublesome people to deal with and lets not forget that gangsters are not to be challenged. As Polly walks through the hospital halls, her heels clicked against the hard floor as she makes her way towards Michaels room. Upon entering she sees Dr.Hemlock and Michael arguing.

“I already said that you are not allowed to do that here.”

“It’s just one smoke.” Michael exclaims as Dr. Hemlock shakes his head and sighs deeply. “Smoking can worsen your conditions—“

“I’m feeling better!”

Dr. Hemlock frowns and wacks Micheal behind the head with a folder. “Do not interupt me!” He says, glaring at the son of Polly Grey.

“Please don’t hit my son too hard, he can get a concussion.” Said Polly as she butts into the conversation that the other two were having. To be honest she wasn’t really upset about the doctors actions. He was doing his job which is to keep micheal healthy and to make sure that he is recovering from his wounds. “Miss Grey.” Said Dr. Hemlock as he give her a kind smile.

Polly still hasn’t gotten used to the doctors kind personality. It was strange seeing someone warm up to the Shelby family so quickly and without fearing them. Every time someone in town heard the name ‘Shelby’ they would run away in fear, but not this man. This man was different and it frightened Polly.

“I see that you ar scolding Michael once again, Doctor.” She says as she approaches the two once she had dropped her things on the small table that was in the large room.

“He should know better when it comes to smoking in the hospital, it’s not safe for our patients and it could also damage his wounds—and please call me Y/n.” Polly chuckles. “Very well y/n.” She says as she stand next to him and shows him the bag. “I got you something as a thank you for taking care of—not only my son but also the rest of my boys.” Y/n accepts the small offering and looks inside the bag, his eyes widening as he takes out one of the apples. “Thank you Polly, I haven’t had much time to eat but I’ll make sure to enjoy these as much as possible.” He puts the apple back inside the bag and turns towards micheal. “Very well, micheal is slowly getting there but we need him to stay a little longer, still need to make sure that he is healing properly and safe for him to return home but for now you may spend as much time as you want here.” He explains to Polly who gives him a nod. “thank you, again.” She repeats before turning towards micheal who was glaring at the doctor btu y/n ignores his glare and gives the two a fake smile before leaving the room.

Y/n has been working in the hospital for as long as he can remember, being immortal stressed him out. Having to see people that he knew grow old and die away, brings back the doubts and fears of him being lonely forever, but so far he has gained some friends. He’s gotten closer to the nurses in the hospital and would have small conversations with them whenever he has the time and he has slowly gotten closer to the Shelby family. The first time he met them was when Arthur got shot in the shoulder during one of their bar fights. The family quickly took him to the hospital where y/n could be the only one to help out the older brother. The Shelby family were stubborn people on that day, that he had to yell and kick them out of the room. He couldn’t concentrate with all the yelling and arguing that he had to throw out the family until Arthur was taken care of.

Y/n’s actions shocked the doctors and nurses. Everyone in town knows to never argue with a Shelby and that’s exactly what y/n did. Not only did her kick out Thomas Shelby but he also kicked out the entire family! He remembers the nurses murmuring about him and saying how they would pray for him to be okay once Thomas Shelby confronted him about his actions, but y/n wasn’t too worried. He’s dealt with worse things in his past life.

On that same day, Thomas Shelby had approached him and he expected the man to yell at him and to tell him to never disprespect his family like that again. But instead he got a simple thank you from the man before leaving to see his brother. Y/n was very confused that day, wondering as too why Thomas didn’t yell at him or let alone shot him right there and then. That’s because Y/n’s actions had gotten Thomas attention, causing the man to observe him during Arthur’s recovery and to figuring out who y/n really was.

Thomas found out about y/n being a vampire during one of his visits with Arthur. He remembers Thomas searching for him, wanting to ask how his brother was doing and if he would be return home anytime soon. He had searched the entry hospital and found no sign of the doctor, he had asked a few nurses if they have seemed him and they all told him the same thing.

“Dr. Hemlock usually heads home during these hours for a small break.”

Thomas can only scoff at the nurses words.

He once asked for Y/n’s home address but none of the staff members knew where he lived and had no information about his living space. This only caused suspicious to grow inside of Thomas as he leaves the hospital by taking the back doors, leading him exactly to Y/n.

He had found y/n hiding in the alley way, eating rats.

Thomas had witnessed y/n snatching up one of the rats that roamed around the alleys, gripping it in his hand as he stares at it with cold eyes as he slowly kills the small rodent. At first Thomas thought that he was some crazy sociopath but what he saw next was way worse. As he watached y/n from around the corner—the doctor could only stare at the dead rodent, bringing it close to his lips as he opens his mouth to reveal a pair of fangs that sunk into the rodent as he eats away.

That was the first time ever, Thomas felt real fear.

“I seemed to have found a lonely bat.”

Y/n looks up from his apple only to see Thomas standing at the other end of the alley. “Shelby.” He says back as he goes back to eating and leans back against the wall as Thomas approaches the younger male.

“Question.” He says, causing the other to raise a brow at him. “I thought vampires only drank blood, so how come your eating an apple?”

Y/n chuckles and shakes his head. “Not all vampires are like in your bedtime stories. Not every vampire drinks blood, some of us still have a bit of human inside and we enjoy the smaller things—for example;” he holds the apple up to show Thomas as he takes a bite.

“Some of us like fruit while other prefer to hunt and kill innocent people.” He replies back as he chews on his apple and swallows it down, smiling at the delicious feeling of being able to eat something that he really likes.

“What about blood?”

“What about it?”

“I thought that was the only thing you needed in order to survive?” Thomas stands next to him and leans back against the wall as he pulls out a cigerette to smoke.

Y/n sighs. “Some of us can last days, even months without blood since some vampires know how to control there hunger, just like me.” he says softly. “But your a doctor, your surrounded by blood for 24 hours straight, how come you don’t lose control?” The doctor didn’t know if he should ignore Thomas questions but also can’t help but explain to him how his species worked.

“The reason why I can control myself around patients is because I’m used to the smell of blood. I can smell it anywhere and everywhere that I have grown used to being around it but, some vampire can lose control by a simple drop and that’s because they don’t schedule out there meals.” He begins to explain as Thomas listen carefully.

Thomas has know about y/n being a vampire for almost a year now but he too doesn’t know very much about them. His mother would tell him stories about monster like them and how they are vicious creatures who only eat as they desire. He was a young boy around that time that he feared easily, but his mother always told him that they were stories and never true.

Maybe she was wrong the whole time.

“I schedule my meals every week, I tend to eat a current amount of blood that can last me up to a month. So that way I don’t have to starve myself and lose control. Some vampires can’t keep control that they go into a rampage, going from town to town. Devouring anything that crossed there paths—those are meant to be killed. They have lost their human side and shouldn’t be roaming around freely.” He explains to Thomas.

Thomas was always curious about y/n’s kind and hearing this new Information finally helped him understand as too why Y/n can work as a doctor without having to lose control. As he thinks about that another question suddenly pops into mind. He turns his head to see y/n eating the apple in silence as he blurts out another question. “Have you ever killed another human due to hunger?

He noticed y/n freeze, gripping the fruit right in his hand as he lowers it away from his mouth. “Once.” He answers back as he turns to give Thomas a glance. “I was just a teenager, I had no one to teach me how to control myself that I had to learn on my own...” he looks away from Thomas and sighs through his nose. “She was a mother of three—“

Thomas pushes himself off the wall as he stares at y/n.

“I saw her at the market and she was alone, buying food for her kids and husband...I was alone at that time so I used to steal rations from people. I am able to eat some human foods In order to survive but eating to much could cause a deep hunger from the lack of blood.” He stares at his apple and tosses it away. “I cornered her on the way home and tried to take her food but I hesitated. Not because I couldn’t, but because I could hear the blood pumping inside her body.” Y/n hated explaining this part but he trusted Thomas and Thomas trusted him. The two have secrets of there own that only they can share between eachother.

“I lost control and attacked her...I remember telling myself to only take a small amount but once the first drop of blood touched my lips I couldn’t help myself, so I drained her and took every ounce of blood she had inside her.” He pushes hismelf off the wall and tosses the empty bag away in the garbage, making his way back towards the back door that allowed him back inside the hospital.

Before he could head inside he looks over his shoulder to see Thomas standing behind him with a concerned look on his face.

“I became a monster that day and I wish to never become one again.” He added as he swings the door open and heads inside, he takes his coat and slips it on and takes his files. Heading back to work as usual.

Thomas, who stayed behind, can’t help but question himself as to why he decided to befriend the vampire.

Was it because he was lonely?

Or that maybe he was slowly growing a liking towards the man?

He can only shrug to himself as he puts out his cigerette and blows out the last bit of smoke that he inhaled. “I can’t be falling for a man who had died many years ago.” He tells hismelf as he chuckles. “Polly won’t be too happy once she finds out who y/n really is.” With that he enters the hospital to go see his Aunt Polly and cousin Micheal.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 26

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: none

A/N: no smut this time, just bucky meeting the family

NEXT CHAPTER

Her mother pulled Bucky into the house. She lived exactly where he’d expect her to live in, a dark academia sort of environment in shades of green, burgundy and dark browns. The walls were filled with shelves containing seas and seas of books and little memorabilia. There were photos of the family on the walls and Bucky noticed the little one right by the staircase of a young girl in a periwinkle dress sat on the beach with a bright smile whom he was absolutely certain was his Y/N. The woman continued to lead them until what he guessed was the living room where the fireplace was on and two kids were running around.

Bucky stood behind with Y/N as her mother made haste towards the drinks’ trolley where Y/N was almost sure the same watered down bottle her brother Anthony had constantly stolen from as a teenager still stood. They were lucky enough not to still have been noticed, her family having an weirdly tradition of not allowing anyone in the living area until they had a drink in hand. Of course she knew why, her family made so many questions both appropriate and inappropriate you’d have to be positively inebriated to deal with it. 

     - Everyone... - Lucy, Y/N’s mother, handed Bucky a burgundy coloured liquid before pulling him inside the living room. - Don’t be shy, Bucky. Everyone, this is Bucky, he’s Y/N’s boyfriend. 

     - I thought he’d be smaller. - a man got up from the dark burgundy couch, walking up to Bucky with an extended hand towards him. Bucky looked at his hand then at his own, before switching to shake it with his flesh arm rather than the metal aberration he’d covered with a glove. - Had a nice flight? Little bean here said she booked first flight tickets even though I told her it’s ...

    - A waste of money, I know dad. - Y/N interrupted. 

    - It was nicer than I expected, sir. - Bucky said yet Y/N could see that little smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. - Your daughter made it all the better.

    - Hope she didn’t bother you with leitmotifs. - another man who looked just around Y/N’s age piped up.

     - Colin, don’t even say that word, it might get her started. - a girl, blonde hair dressed in a baby blue dress added. - Oh wow, you’re athletic.

     - C’mon El, you promised to help me tease Y/N about her first serious boyfriend. - Colin wrapped his arms around Y/N but she merely playfully slapped his chest. - Look at you, the last Y/L/N sibling to introduce someone to the family. We were gonna buy you a cake but mum said no.

    - Colin Y/L/N, leave your sister be. - Lucy slapped her son’s head. - We are very happy that Y/N and Bucky are here. 

   - She’s happy there’s a chance you might give her grandchildren. - Colin whispered before adopting that grin that as children made Y/N want to throw a pillow at him.

   - Colin, I said to leave your sister be. - Lucy wrapped her arms around her eldest daughter. - That is not the reason I’m happy you’re dating. Me and your father were just afraid that you would be a bit lonely in New York.

   - Because you have no friends. - Eloise added.

   - Eloise, leave your sister be. She has plenty of friends. - their father added, not moving from his chair where he had returned to read the paper. 

   - Where is your sister? She should be here to meet Bucky.

   - Claire is busy with her husband convincing my husband to get me to have a rat-like creature they call a baby. - Eloise sat down on the other couch, legs crossed over each other. - Do you want a baby, Bucky?

   - Eloise! - Y/N yelled out of shame. Now she understood why her mother looked so dead whenever she had to go shopping with 4 children at 10 AM. She was clearly wrong to think her siblings would act like regular human beings in front of a guest, they barely acted like regular human beings on a regular basis. - We should go put the bags in my bedroom.

   - No, wait, beanie. CLAIRE! CLAIRE COME SAY HI TO YOUR SISTER AND BUCKY! - Y/N’s mother rushed to the kitchen, yelling out whom he guessed was the name of Y/N’s last sibling. Out of the kitchen and into the living room came a girl dressed in the same dress as Eloise except it was purple, holding a bundle of blankets against her chest. 

  - Aw, let me hold Sophie. - Y/N dropped her bags to meet her sister who handled her the baby. Bucky inspected the scene, watching as her embarrassed facade quickly changed into one of wonder as she looked at her niece. - Look at you, you’re so cute, Miss Sophie, yes you are. 

  - Claire, say hi to Bucky.

  - Why is he so tall? - she shook his hand. - I thought you’d be smaller with that nickname.

Is this was Steve felt like after the serum? Bucky had never stopped to consider that maybe his nickname sounded like a name you’d give a short guy, to be honest, he doesn’t even remember how it came to be, he just remembered his mum calling it and it sticking. However, he did have to admit that he enjoyed seeing everyone’s confused look once they met him as if he was the tallest man alive when he was barely taller than Y/N’s brother. 

    - Conor, Jack come meet Bucky too. - Y/N’s mum held two men by the arm who looked as lost in the family reunion as Bucky did. - Conor’s Eloise’s husband and Jack’s Claire’s. 

    - Okay. - Y/N interrupted before anyone else told her boyfriend he was too tall. Handing Sophie back to her sister, she held Bucky’s hand. - We are going to put the bags upstairs and take the coats off and we’ll return. 

Y/N knew her family way too well. She had been here when Claire brought Jack home for the first time and her father questioned him about a notorious case followed by Colin asking him if he needed earbuds for Claire’s snoring. She had also been there when Conor and all of Colin’s girlfriends so she knew when it was time to run away with Bucky from her very devoted and very curious family who had already decided to have the baby conversation with him before she had even mention it.

Bucky looked at the photos that were scattered on the staircases’ wall. He could always pinpoint where Y/N was, normally in the front with those beautiful, shining eyes. He noticed one particular photo of Y/N alone against a dark blue background in her graduation gown holding her diploma, posing like a beauty queen. He made a note to sneak a photo of it once she wasn’t looking.

She led him into her bedroom. It was a rather small one in tones of white and beige with a double bed. The walls were clean rather than one with a bookcase of dark wood filled with books, trophies and little frames of photos of her as a kid. Her bed had a small white lamb laying on it with some heart shaped pillows and a knitted beige blanket. 

     - Is that you? - Bucky rushed to the shelf to grab a photo of Y/N as a toddler dressed as a ballerina holding a golden medal.

    - Yeah. My grandmother was a prima ballerina so she made all of us do ballet which came quite in handy when I was in Phantom. - she put her coat on the hook on the door. - Sorry about my mum, and my dad and my siblings. I should already apologise for their husbands and the toddlers you haven’t met yet since they’re out with Grandma Louis who I’m also sorry for. 

     - That’s fine. I think they don’t hate me much.

    - It’s better than when Colin introduced Kate, mum was so upset she didn’t speak to her. I would say they love you. 

     - So which one is the oldest? Is there an hierarchy I should know about?

     - I’m the oldest then Colin, Claire and finally Eloise. Eloise got married first and then Claire and Colin is living la vie boheme. 

     - And you? - he wrapped his arms around her waist

    - I’m the actress. Once Aunt Petunia or Grandma Louis gets here you’ll listen to the “the debate team champion becomes an actress kissing all those men and she’s still single” discussion. I also apologise for that in advance. 

    - Well but you are not single anymore. - Bucky leaned down to kiss her. - And I will allow you to parade me as your boyfriend. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. 

    - Ah yes, my three time three-time boxing champion boyfriend. 

    - You’re not gonna drop that, aren’t you?

    - What? It’s very alluring, gets me going.

    - Is that why you gave me an handjob at the airport, princess? - he leaned down to whisper against her ear. She felt goosebumps raise up her skin, mouth drying up as she tried to find the words. - You better have thick walls, princess. 

   - Beanie ... - her mother knocked on the door, pushing the door slightly open and sticking her head in. - We were wondering if Bucky ate meat. We bought this meat that’s not really meat and it’s vegan. I asked some of my colleagues at work to help me cook it and we made some but we can make more if Bucky wants some.

    - No, Mrs. I’m okay with anything, it’s fine. 

    - Non sense. Y/N tell Bucky he can pick what to eat. You’re American right? I’m making some chicken nuggets for the kids and Colin, I could make you some if you’d like. 

    - Mum, that’s stereotypical. 

   - Nonsense, beanie. What do you want to eat, Bucky?

   - I’ll eat whatever Y/N does, m’am. - he tried to hide the little grin as Y/N stood by his side still processing what Bucky had just said to her. - It’s fine, m’am, really. I don’t want to be a bother, I’m so grateful you and your family are okay with having me for Christmas. 

Lucy merely smiled at him as a way of saying it was no problem. Y/N knew her family, they adored to embarrass their children in front of their partners, lovers, and friends but they would adore whoever their children adored as if they belonged to the family since the dawning of time. The actress rose her head to look at her boyfriend, staring at the door like a fading vision on the desert, relaxed muscles and expression. Her hold on his hand strengthened as her head laid against his shoulder, laying a small kiss on the fabric of his shirt.

     - Do you want to go downstairs? We can stay here for a few minutes before dinner. 

     - Yeah, princess. - he snapped himself out of his state, smiling down at his caring girlfriend before following her down the stairs.

Her family had a lot of photos, some on big frames on the wall and other small ones in coffee tables and other surfaces. He couldn’t help but look at them, watching Y/N through the ages and wondering how she was. She always had that look, that inner shyness and bright eyed appearance. Most photos were school photos with that dark blue background followed by a few backstage photos of her in elaborate stage makeup and costumes. Bucky wanted a photo of her, any photo of her, to have in his wallet. Not that he would forget what she looked like, he could never forget it but he wanted to. He wanted to look at her face whenever he paid for his coffee, show people when they asked about her, he guessed he wanted to have the same pride in showing his girlfriend his father had about showing his mother. He wanted a suburban existence, no more Winter Soldier, no more Avengers, just James Barnes. Yet, he also knew he did not deserve that. No, he had taken that structure from so many people he didn’t deserve it. 

Once in the living room, there were more people, notably two kids running around the Christmas tree and two women sat by the beautifully placed table. He felt shy, not knowing exactly what to say, barely knowing these people. 

    - Ah, let me look at you. - one of the woman from the table got up and walked towards them. Bucky thought none of it, thinking it to be directed towards Y/N until the woman took him by surprise by cupping his face. - You’re just gorgeous. Nice eyes, strong features. 

     - Aunt Petunia! - Y/N took her aunt’s hands away from Bucky’s face. - Please. 

     - You know what they say about men with strong features, great lovers, great breeders.

     - Oh my god. - that’s it, she was no longer going to have a boyfriend once she got back to New York. - Bucky, this is my aunt Petunia. 

     - Nice to meet you m’am. - Bucky extended his hand to her but the woman merely pushed him towards the table.

     - I thought she was kidding when she said she was bringing someone home yet here you are. - she led both of them to side by side seats on the table. - So, Bucky have you meet Grandma Louis?

    - I’m afraid not. 

    - Look ma, Y/N brought a boyfriend home. 

   - Can we please not treat this like a world limited event?

   - Nope. - Colin sat next to Y/N. - I had a bet with Eloise you’d date a 50 year old librarian and I lost which is unfair because 100 year old soldier is almost the same. 

   - It’s not and you know it. - Eloise argued from the other side of the table. - How’s the movie, Y/N? 

   - It’s ... good. - she forced a smile, not wanting to show the same family who always wondered why unlike every of her siblings she, the debate captain and champion, had turned down the option to do Law and instead pursued an acting career. Did acting made her happy? Yes. Did the movie made her happy? No. 

   - She’s the best actress I have ever met and seen. - Bucky drew invisible circles over her palm. - Everyone’s always speechless during her takes. 

   - That’s my beanie, always the best at whatever she does. - Y/N’s father added. - Besides, one of us has to not be a lawyer. We’re starting to be known as the lawyer family. 

   - So Bucky, are you enjoying London? Have you ever been? - Claire asked while putting the bibs on her two toddlers who were still happily playing with toy cars on the table.

   - Long time ago, it’s a bit different now. 

   - Y/N should take you to see the tree in Trafalgar, it’s absolutely stunning. - Lucy added. - It’s where her father purposed. 

   - It’s where everyone purposed in this family. We need a new tradition. - Colin rolled his eyes. 

   - If it were up to you, you’d purpose in a McDonalds after coming from the pub. 

   - Shut up, Eloise. 

Bucky merely kept to himself during the dinner, replying to the questions that were thrown his way and laughing at the jokes. There was the odd questions every once and then which Y/N would normally reply to followed by telling him she was sorry which he found adorable. Normally it was him who was defensive over her, too defensive even and to see her take on the role warmed his heart. The dinner ran smoothly and soon everyone was sat on the couch by the fireplace. She was by his side, head on his shoulder as a It’s a Wonderful Life played on the television. 

The night kept going in and in until everyone decided to climb up to their respective bedrooms. Y/N turned on the heating the moment she came in, stripping onto her own cozy red pyjamas while Bucky kept inspecting her room. She had a bunch of books and programs from various West End musicals as well as a few bits of Star Wars memorabilia scattered on the shelves and a Phantom of the Opera music box on her desk. What caught his attention was the tiny miniature of a white picked fence house on her bedside table. Had she been an avid miniature collector and he didn’t know about it?

    - Hey, what’s this? - he pointed at the little house.

    - Oh ... that.

    - Is it a sore topic? I’m sorry princess, I didn’t mean to ...

    - It’s okay, Bucky. - she smiled. - It’s just a silly thing from when I was a kid. I told my mum I wanted to marry Luke Skywalker and move into a white picket fence home and she bought me it. Then I just wanted the house as I grew up but hey I live in SoHo, the best I can do is get another one of those

   - You want a white picket fence house?

   - It’s silly. - she hide her head as a familiar heat climbed up to her cheeks. Bucky placed the miniature back where it was, walking up to her. 

   - It’s not silly. I like picket white fence houses too, princess.

   - You do?

   - Yeah. One of my cousins had one when I was a kid and I always envisioned one for myself. 

  - Did you? 

  - Yeah and then I met you and I thought screw the home, as long as I get to come home everyday to you we could be living in a cardboard home but if you want a white picked fence house than I’ll give you one.

  - Buck ...

  - I’m not kidding. - he smiled at her. - We’ll live wherever you’d like and every single day we’ll come back home to each other and I will pretend I’m not tired so I can stay up and look at you smiling at those TV show reruns you like so much.

  - You like them too. - she added. 

  - Maybe but until then ... - he walked up to his bag removing an worn out big navy blue box. - You can have this. 

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[mourntheantagonist]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Chapter 2

read on ao3

Hopper was startled awake by two small hands tightly gripping his shoulders and the familiar chant of his teenage daughter's voice. Her words were frantic, falling out of her mouth with vibrato and an airy tone, and in his initial half-sleep he didn’t quite register what she had said until her voice had raised to a volume that, despite the distance, could be heard all the way from the center of town. 

“There’s something wrong!” She was screaming at him. Her nose was dripping with blood and her eyes were dripping with tears. She was shaking and scared and all Hopper could think to do was to take both of her hands and hold them tight.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, as calmly as possible, his voice low and quiet, opposite of El’s own.

“Something’s wrong with Billy!” she tried to scream it, but all that came out was a choked whisper at the emission of his name. Her fists tightened in Hopper’s grip and as soon as the name ‘Billy’ fully registered in his head, he suddenly had his guard up. He had to be wary after everything El had told him she’d seen when Billy had let her into his mind, and especially after getting a glimpse of all of it for himself the moment Neil Hargrove seemed entirely unconcerned over the state of his child when Hopper had taken it upon himself to inform the family. He figured it would be easier to hear from father to father, but when the first question that left his lips was “how much is this going to cost me?” he started to doubt the man he was talking to was even a father at all.

“I told you to stay out of his head El. That’s–” invasive is what he wanted to say, but El was quick to cut him off by tearing her hands out from his grip and charging toward the front door.

“We have to go to the hospital. Right now.”

She had that serious look on her face. The one she got when she was seconds away from throwing whoever was bothering her directly through a brick wall. She got the tears to stop rolling and wiped away the blood with her sleeve, something Hopper had to constantly remind her not to do because he could never get the stains out. It was late, the moon and the stars were already so visible in the sky above them serving as their only form of illumination in the dark woods aside from the one pathetic light bulb that hung above the awning on the porch. The clock read almost midnight. Hopper was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into his recliner and fall asleep, but El was determined, and if there was really something wrong with Billy, he didn’t have the time to waste.

Hopper grabbed his hat and coat off the hook and followed El out to the Blazer where she was already sitting in the passenger seat, waiting. Her eyes were fixed forward and it was scarily opposite to what she had looked like just moments ago, full of panic and fear that showed itself through tears and screams, now manifesting itself in a dead expression looking out at the dark forest through the dirty windshield. All he could do was get in the driver’s seat, turn the key in the ignition, and do what she told him to do.

The trip from Hawkins to Fort Wayne wasn’t short, and yet, they didn’t talk to each other the whole way. Hopper tried, tried to ask her what she saw but every time he did, her eyes would squeeze shut like she was in pain. 

Because every time he asked, she was suddenly transported back there. 

She’d been checking up on Billy for months now, ever since the early morning hours of July 5th when Max had begged her to tell her what was happening while they were huddled together in the back of an ambulance and not a single EMT or paramedic on site could tell them where or how he was. But there was something different about looking for Billy in the void compared to how it worked with everyone else. Usually, she’d be able to see just the physical. She would be able to see the people around them and hear the words that they said, but with Billy she didn’t see that. She didn’t see his torn up body laid out on a stretcher surrounded by doctors and nurses trying to bring him back to life like she would have expected, or hoped for at least. Instead, all she saw was Billy curled up in his own bed at home, the blue plaid sheets and the stained pillowcases that he let his head sink into, asleep. She couldn’t see him physically, she could only see into his mind and into his dreams.

And all he ever dreamed about was sleeping in his own bed at home.

It was the exact same every time. No matter how close or far she would get to him, no matter the words she’d say and no matter how loud she would say them, he wouldn’t even so much as stir. He was always motionless with steady and even breathing, and she would have thought it to be peaceful if she hadn’t been able to feel everything he was feeling when she was in there. 

Not the pain of being poked and prodded by the doctors who saw him as their little upside down experiment, but the pain of sadness and loneliness that seemed to just be a constant in his life within his own mind. It was way too much for any single person to handle, even if she hadn’t had an inkling to what exactly the cause was. She could never stay in there for too long. The feelings were just too powerful.

It was always the same, until the day that it wasn’t. Everything seemed to be going accordingly, he was in his bed, asleep, just like he always was, but the silence started to fade. Slowly she started to hear voices of different screams enter her ears from far away, growing closer and closer to her and to Billy. Suddenly the boy she never saw move was writhing in his bed. The screams grew closer and closer and louder and louder until they pierced her ears and she covered them with her hands and dropped to her knees. Billy’s own screams were added to the chorus and the dark black void faded quickly to a blinding white that forced her eyes shut like the flash of a camera.

And like the flip of a switch, the literal blink of an eye, the voices stopped and it was all back to black. But when she looked up there was nothing. No bed, no Billy. Nothing.

And her first thought, the thought that rattled in her brain the whole trip from Hawkins to Fort Wayne, the reason she was so adamant that they leave for the hospital right away…

Was that he was dead.

She couldn’t reach him or feel him anymore, and it was the only thing that made any sense.

Hopper called up Dr. Owens through his car phone and explained the situation the best he could, with the limited information he could get out of El who wouldn’t respond to a single word he said with anything but “drive”. All he really had to go off of was that El had seen something and insisted that Billy needed help, that Billy needed their help, and Owens, being ever so intrigued with Eleven and her mysterious capabilities, wasn't going to turn her away.

They pulled into the parking lot and began working their way through each layer of the hospital, from the initial check in desk to the upstairs wing where emergent cases were being wheeled in on stretchers and moved behind closed curtains. They had to go deeper than the ICU where a case like Billy’s would typically be located, but his case was anything but typical. Billy was in the deepest depths of the hospital that only select personnel had access to where lab technicians were having a field day treating Billy Hargrove who had Mindflayer DNA coursing through his veins. Their little science experiment. There was always difficulty getting permission to go back there as many of the nurses weren’t even given clearance so surely the sheriff from two towns over was out of jurisdiction.

But they eventually got their way through the barricaded entrance, with Hopper constantly having to squeeze El’s hand to remind her that no, she couldn’t just force open the glass doors no matter how much she wanted to or how much the nurse behind the counter aggravated her.

The hospital wing Billy was in looked like it was straight out of a horror film. There were no nurses or doctors rushing from room to room, the lights were dim and it was mostly silent save for the squeaking of their soles against the linoleum floor. It looked very abandoned and lonely and straight up depressing, all doom and gloom where the first impression was that whoever was wheeled into any of these rooms, likely wouldn’t be coming out breathing. Instead of being wheeled out in a wheelchair into the parking lot for a grand return home, they’d be wheeled out on a gurney with a white sheet covering their body headed straight for the morgue where Owens’ little lab rats would likely continue their experiments on the dead corpse. El had been quick to release herself from Hopper’s grip and locate the room on her own, storming down the halls with a determination he hadn’t seen from her in a while. He had to do a little jog to keep up with her, hearing his keys jingle from where they hung on his belt loop with every step that he took. El had stormed past everybody and went straight in for Billy, taking him by the hand and tightly shutting her eyes. She didn’t even take a second to notice the two people who were already in the room before her, Max and Steve, asking frantically what was going on because El didn’t even say a thing, and Hopper didn’t have a clue either.

Steve was standing against the doorframe and Max was sitting in the chair looking like she had just been woken up. The two of them looked to have the same confusion plastered on their faces that Hopper had, all three of them looking toward El who stood at Billy’s bedside silently with focus as her face turned red.

“I can’t reach him.” She said once she’d opened her eyes, releasing her hold from Billy’s hand and focusing all of her attention on the heart monitor in the room that maintained a steady rhythm with the crests and troughs indicative of life.

“Can someone here explain to me what is going on?” Steve asked, his arms crossed over his chest. He was looking to Hopper who just gestured to El as if that was answer enough. 

“Something is wrong with Billy.” 

“Billy’s fine El, what are you talking about?” Max chimed in after releasing an exhausted yawn. 

El just repeated herself, turned toward Max and staring her directly in the eyes. “Something is wrong with Billy.”

“What is wrong with Billy, El?” Max asked, and Steve and Hopper just watched the scene take place before them like they were watching a movie, waiting for the plot to thicken.

“He’s gone.”

“No, he’s still alive.” Max protested.

“Not dead. Gone.” El said, “He’s somewhere else, on the inside.”

Before anyone could question her further, Dr. Owens had entered the room. “Is there a problem?” he asked, and everyone's attention had turned toward him where he stood in between Steve and Hopper. 

El didn’t respond, and instead let Hopper speak for her. “We aren’t sure, but Eleven thinks something may have happened with the kid.”

“Why don’t the two of you come into my office and explain it to me? We have been monitoring him closely and haven’t seen any significant changes.” Dr. Owens suggested, leading the two of them out of the room. “You two keep him company, I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but he knows you’re here.” he said, looking at Steve and Max before he closed the door behind him.

- : -

“So he just… vanished?” Dr. Owens asked, his hands were clasped together in front of him on his desk and he was looking to Eleven inquisitively, while she was slumped forward in the chair, her eyes shut tightly just like before, like she was in pain.

“Yes,” she said, “and there were... screams.”

“Whose screams?”

“Billy’s, and others,” she said, her voice trailing off into nearly a whisper, “there were so many. It was so loud.” El choked on tears with that last sentence, and Hopper pulled her into his side. She covered her own ears like she was hearing it all over again. The screams of countless people were echoing in her mind. She just sobbed into Hopper’s jacket.

“Are you sure this wasn’t just a bad dream?” Owens asked. “Nothing has changed with him physically to suggest something is wrong.”

El’s head snapped toward him and her tear filled eyes filled with rage. “I know what I saw,” she said, her face scrunched and eyebrows turned down, “and I can’t reach him anymore.”

Dr. Owens leaned back in his chair almost as if he was trying to distance himself from El. He knew how she could make brain smoothies with just the use of her mind alone, and he didn’t like the idea of being on the receiving end of that. “Okay,” he said, “we’ll run some tests, but I’m not sure how much it will help.”

“Just do what you can Doc,” Hopper chimed in, “for our peace of mind, please.”

“I’ll go order an EEG and an MRI. How ‘bout you two go join the other two, maybe see if you can’t reach him this time.”

Hopper took El by the hand and led her out of the room. She didn’t seem too satisfied with what Owens had to offer, but she was definitely less enraged than she could have been. They walked back down the same empty corridor they just walked through, dim lighting and all, and found Max pacing around the small square room, visible relief on her face as soon as El walked back through the door.

“What the hell is going on?!” Max asked, walking right up to El and putting her hands on her shoulders, getting right up into her face. “You can’t just say something like that without an explanation!” El was just looking back at her with wide eyes, still red and glossy from earlier. “El, tell me that Billy is okay?”

“I-“ she wanted to. She wanted to tell Max that everything would be okay just like she did with her on that mall floor, holding her as she cried right next to Billy’s lifeless body, drenched in blood. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t look Max in the eyes and tell her that he was okay when everything inside of her was telling her that something was seriously wrong. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” She shook and bowed her head.

That made Max take a step backwards, releasing her grip on El’s shoulder and stumbling into the foot of the hospital bed.

“You said you couldn’t see him, could you try again?” Steve asked, pulling a distraught Max who refused to cry into his side, “Just in case?”

El nodded and walked up to his bedside and pulled her blindfold out of her pocket. Hopper followed suit and turned the radio on the side table to a vacant frequency. She sat on the floor, her legs crossed.

She took a deep breath, and focused.

It was almost instant that she found herself back in the void, but it was still completely empty. She walked around aimlessly, her feet splashing in the water with each step she took, calling out his name only to hear her own voice echo back to her.

“Billy?” No response.

“Can you see anything?” It was Max’s voice breaking through, joining the continued echoes.

“Not yet.”

El went in deeper, and her stomach grew more and more tense with each step she took, and her breathing became more and more shallow, but still, nothing. Just pitch black like before.

But she kept going. She continued to move forward despite the uneasy feeling that washed over her.

Then a chill traveled straight down her spine as she heard the faintest little voice enter through her ears, a voice she couldn’t attribute to any of the people that were in the room with her, but also, unmistakably not Billy’s voice either.

“I hear a voice.”

“Is it Billy’s?” Max asked. 

“No it’s…”

It was high pitched, sounded like a giggle. A girl. A young girl.

“It sounds like a young girl.”

El tried to tune out everyone’s follow up questions and focused every bit of her attention on that faint little voice that was slowly growing louder and more audible. She could almost make out the words that were in between the frantic fits of laughter.

“... Daddy!...” The word was as clear as day.

And then there was another voice. Another set of laughter that joined the little girl. A low voice, slightly gruff and heavy.

“Billy.” She said it aloud, to where everyone in the room could hear the moment she realized. But as soon as she said his name, the laughter stopped. Suddenly. 

It was replaced by the screams. 

She was suddenly propelled backwards, like the strongest gust of wind hit her dead on and sent her directly out of the void. She ripped off the blindfold immediately and collapsed into Max’s arms, hands up to her ears, knees to her chest, sobbing, trying to get the sounds of the screams to exit her head.

“What happened?” Max asked, stroking her fingers through Eleven’s hair as she sobbed into her chest, just like she’d done for her, ignoring the blood from El's nose as it transferred onto her shirt.

“I could hear him.” She said through choked sobs. “I could hear Billy.”

Max held onto Eleven tighter. Hopper and Steve were both just watching the scene happen on the floor, their backs against  the walls behind them holding the bulk of their respective weights, unsure of whether or not they should intervene, or dare say anything. They didn’t want to drill her with all of the questions they had bouncing around inside their heads while the person with all of the answers was a wreck on the floor. So they stayed silent, let Max be the one to hold her while she choked back her own tears, and waited for it all to go away and calm down.

She didn’t have that chance before Dr. Owens  walked in alongside another man in a long white lab coat, wheeling in a cart with a large machine on it, a machine El recognized very well.

“Did something happen Eleven?” Dr. Owens asked the girl with the tear stains running down her cheeks. She just nodded her head, still unable to properly vocalize or describe exactly what happened or what she heard. Dr. Owens noted her hesitation to speak and the looks being given to him from the other eyes in the room and decided to drop it, to not press any further. “We’re going to run an EEG to see if there’s any abnormal brain activity, just to make sure Billy’s definitely still in there.”

The man in the lab coat made his way over to Billy’s bedside opposite of the rest of them and began marking points of Billy’s scalp with what looked similar to a blue colored pencil. El had to look away, immediately reminded of the day they strapped her down in a chair and took clippers to her head, Brenner in her ear telling her “this will make everything much easier for everyone.”

They attached the nodes all around his head, and the room was at a dead silence as they waited for it to be over, holding their collective breaths like they were trying to conserve oxygen in the room. Oxygen they might need later. El finally got up from her place on the ground and leaned on Hopper, back facing Billy. Max remained on the floor, her hand reaching up and holding onto Billy’s. His hand was cold, but warm enough that she could tell the blood was still coursing through his veins, without the regular beeping of the heart monitor. Steve stood awkwardly in the corner, feeling out of place. He gripped his own hands behind his back and rolled on his feet, the only one out of the four of them that continued to look at Billy as the contraption was placed on his head. He stared at him almost intently, looking for any sudden movement, a twitch of his feet, a lifted finger, a flared nostril, just something.

But he got nothing. Billy was totally, and completely still.

“Uh. Dr. Owens?” The man in the lab coat said, looking down at the machine on the cart, his eyebrows furrowed, giving cause for concern. “Can you come look at this?”

“Is something wrong?” Hopper asked, his voice loud and his eyes wide like saucers. He was physically leaning forward, trying to see what they were seeing.

Dr. Owens didn’t answer, he just hesitantly joined the lab technician behind the machine to get a better look, offering the group of four a hesitant look of reassurance, that wasn’t very reassuring. He pulled his glasses from where they were hooked on the collar of his shirt up to his face.

“It’s just…”

“Scribbles?” the guy in the lab coat finished. Dr. Owens held the scan up to the light, like he didn’t know what he was looking at. Because he didn’t. He had absolutely no idea what he was looking at.

“What does that mean?” Max asked, her voice almost accusatory.

“There must be a problem with the machine. We’ll try again with a different one.” Dr. Owens looked to the lab technician and without him having to say a word, the man left to fetch another machine. Dr. Owens set the scan down on the bedside table and began removing the nodes from Billy’s head. Dr. Owens was trying to hide the look of confusion from his face, trying to keep everyone else in the room calm, but the girl with the fiery red hair and even more fiery personality couldn’t be calmed down. 

Max continued to press with questions, alongside Hopper, but he had a little more tact in the way he asked for answers. But the two of them kept receiving the same exact response as they all waited for the lab tech to return with a second EEG machine. “We’ll know more when we get an accurate test.” Steve, on the other hand, remained silent and ignored the two who were begging for answers and receiving none. Instead, he walked over to the other side of the bed and stole the scan from on top of the table. Dr. Owens made no attempts to stop him. He just said “it’s only scribbles kid. It’s inconclusive.” but Steve ignored him, and walked back over to where he was initially standing and studied the scan, just like he studied Billy as he lay in that hospital bed. Lifeless. Completely, totally, still.

Dr. Owens just wrote it off and continued removing the nodes from Billy’s head, wracking his brain over how the hell the machine could malfunction like that. Max and Hopper continued to press with questions, and continued to get upset when they didn’t receive any answers, El continued to not look at Billy with all of the attachments to his head, and Steve continued to study the scan, drowning out every bit of background noise, looking at every mark that was made on the paper, like he knew something that everyone else didn’t.

The man in the lab coat came back shortly after with another machine, and everyone in the room was quick to shut up to hopefully speed the process along. They stood and watched as they did it all over again, and El continued to refuse to turn around, and Hopper rubbed circles into her back, waiting for the good news he thought that he had been promised.

“It’s doing it again, sir.” the lab technician said, his voice was frantic, and that was what finally got El to turn around. Everyone was crowding the bed to see exactly what was going on. The pen was going haywire, and Dr. Owens immediately shut off the machine. “Are you doing this little girl!?”

El shook her head

“What the hell is going on Doc!?” Hopper was done being polite. He grabbed him by the fabric of his sleeve and pulled him in close. “What the hell is going on!?” He yelled.

“I… don’t know.”

“Does this mean he’s gone?” Max asked, finally allowing a tear to escape, rolling down her cheek as she choked on her own breath. 

“No.” El answered. “He’s still here.” She was so sure, pushing past everyone and holding onto Billy’s hand. “I could hear him.”

In all of the chaos, nobody could hear Steve mumbling in the background. Nobody saw as his mouth hung open while he stared at the first scan in his hands. They didn’t hear him until his voice grew louder, and Max managed to pick out one of the words he said that made her head jerk towards him.

“What did you say?” She asked Steve, more tears streaming down her face. Everyone else in the room followed her step and now everyone was looking at Steve, who looked like he was in complete shock.

Steve looked up to her with his eyes wide.

“It’s Max.” he said, “it’s you.”

“What are you talking about son?” Hopper asked, inching closer to Steve.

Steve just turned the scan around and held it up for everyone to see, and traced his finger in a circle on the image. “It’s Max. It’s a picture of Max.”

Suddenly nobody was crowding the bed anymore and instead crowding Steve, including Dr. Owens and his lab tech, all craning their necks to try to see past the scribbles.

“I don’t see anything kid-“ 

“Wait!” Max shouted, cutting off the lab tech who spoke in a tired tone, “I see it! Right there!” She placed her finger on the scan. “See, that’s my nose, my mouth… that’s me…”

“I’m calling the others.” Hopper said, “this is fucked up.” Hopper made an attempt to leave the room and go to a phone but he was stopped by Dr. Owens pressing a hand to his chest. “Get out of my way this could be-“

“The Upside Down, I know. If that even is the case, the less people know, the better.”

Suddenly chaos had broken out again between everyone arguing with each other about involving the others, and Eleven and Max just trying to shut everyone up, only making it louder.

But that was immediately halted by the sound of the radio in the corner turning on, and music began playing, but nobody was near it to even touch it.

“Who did that?” Dr. Owens asked, and everyone raised their arms in the air at once, signaling innocence. 

The song was staticky, but they could still make out the words to a familiar song, and everyone’s stomach dropped when they looked over to where Billy was lying on the hospital bed, just a single tear rolling down his face as the song eerily played in everyone’s ears.

Say "Night-ie night" and kiss me 

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me 

While I'm alone and blue as can be 

Dream a little dream of me

[kumeko]

A/N: For the @fe3hmonthly (on twitter) Goddess Messenger zine! I wanted to write a smattering of pairings I haven’t explored as much as I’d like.

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…

i.

Everywhere Claude looked, it was white. The grounds, the roofs, even the sky were this dreary shade of eggshell, as though even nature couldn’t muster up any energy. It was Great Tree Moon, the starting of spring, and yet Fódlan still felt like it was in the throes of winter. He shouldn’t have been surprised; even his textbooks had told him that Fódlan’s winters lasted longer, were colder, and were gloomier than anything he’d experienced in Almyra.

Still, it was one thing to read about it, another to experience it. Claude laced his hands behind his head as he strolled through the interconnecting passages between the academy buildings. All in all, it wouldn’t have been too bad if the buildings were just a little festive. At this point, Almyra was in the middle of spring preparations, the buildings decorated in bright papers and the people in even brighter clothes. The academy? Even the new year decorations were down now, leaving this depressing sight.

Claude hadn’t expected to feel homesick over something as trivial as this. He hadn’t expected to feel homesick at all.

“Hey, Claude!” Hilda waved as she fell in step beside him. Her pink hair bobbed as she walked. Clasping her hands behind her back, she leaned forward and asked, “So, what’s your take on the new professor?”

“Byleth?” Claude raised a brow, looking at his right-hand woman. Another thing he hadn’t expected: finding a partner in Hilda. Her slothful attitude hid a brilliant mind, one almost on par with his for mischief making, and he had plans.

“Who else?” Hilda laughed, shaking her head. “Gosh, you’re so silly sometimes.”

He didn’t bother to reply to that. Instead he hummed thoughtfully as he considered her question. “Byleth…huh…”

“I mean, she must have really impressed you if you asked her to be our teacher.” Hilda straightened up. Tapping her chin, she mused, “I don’t think I could handle Hanneman-levels of strictness. It’d be nice if she was relaxed like Manuela.”

“Neither, I think.” Claude shrugged. Even now he remembered the ease with which she’d protected Edelgard, her confidence as she fought—it put her head and shoulders above the other two teachers. Add in her ridiculously blank face and he had found entertainment for the rest of the year. “She’s real quick on her feet. Strong too. And unlike Hanneman and Manuela, she has a lot of experience.”

A mercenary who’d seen the continent, who’d travelled from town to town, untouched by the church…part of him wondered just what change she could bring to the academy. To his classmates. To himself. What was her view on things?

“Well, that’s good and all, but…” Hilda groaned. Her long pigtails brushed against him as she hunched over. “She’s totally going to give us a lot of work.”

“Probably,” Claude agreed, patting Hilda on the back. “Especially considering the Battle of Eagle and Lion are coming up. I wonder if she’ll be ready for it.”

Hilda groaned again, leaning against him. He wrapped an arm around her to steady her as she dramatically sighed. “You should have just let us take Manuela.”

“Nah, Teach is perfect for us. Trust me.” Their pace was slower now, his arm still wrapped around Hilda’s waist. Oddly, he didn’t mind. “Though….”

“Though?” Hilda glanced up at him, raising a brow. He didn’t miss the spark of interest in her eyes.

“Well, maybe we could give her a test of our own.” Claude grinned, eyeing the endless snow. This would solve both of his problems. “Something to make sure she’s ready for the Battle of Eagle and Lion, and maybe have a little fun while we’re at it.”

Hilda furrowed her brow, her expression distrustful. “Fun?”

“Back in…” Claude caught himself. “Back at home, my family has this fun tradition every spring. We throw colourful powders at each other.”

Her distrust turned into confusion. “You threw powderat each other?”

“Well, we usually wait till it’s a little warmer too. Trust me, it’s better than it sounds. It’s kinda like a free-for-all tag.” Claude shrugged. If there was one good thing about the border situation with Almyra, it was that no one in Fódlan knew what he was describing. As far as they were concerned, he was just describing an event from a backwater town. “We’ll make it a mock battle. Maybe we could do it with snowballs? Or fill thin waterskins with coloured water?”

The more he spoke, the more enamoured with the idea he became. Their class, just barely acquainted, could properly learn about each other. More importantly, it’d be the first Almyran thing he’d done in a year and he tried to hide his rising enthusiasm. “Maybe it can be all of us against Teach.”

Hilda, however, was on the opposite side of the spectrum. She grimaced. “That sounds like a lotta work.”

“Just a little.” When she still shot him a baleful stare, he tightened his grip on her waist and rested his head on her chin. “Come on, it’ll be fun. You’ll like it. Besides…you can always rope in the others to do the work.”

“I’d do that anyways,” she replied bluntly, though she didn’t pull away or object further.

Claude chuckled. He should have expected that answer. “Fine, you can watch during the game?”

“Let’s just say you owe me one,” Hilda replied, smiling cunningly as she pulled out of his arms.

“Blackmail?” He clutched his heart. “To think you’d stoop so low.”

“Please, like you wouldn’t do the same to me,” Hilda retorted before breaking into laughter.

“True.” Claude shrugged. There was no point in denying it. “Let’s see if Anna’s willing to cut us a deal on some supplies.”

Hilda snorted, hooking an arm through his. “Like she’d let you have a penny.”

“Oh, she’ll give me more.” When Hilda turned to him, bemused, Claude winked. “Blackmail material, remember?”

ii.

The library was quiet. Not in the way Claude was used to, where you could still hear rustling paper and erasers hitting the floor, or the soft groans of students as they tried to finish exams. No, this was the silence of the uninhabited, where only the wind blowing in through the cracks broke the silence.

It had been a long five years since the library had last been used. Holding up his lamp, Claude slowly slung it from side to side, checking the cobweb-covered shelves for intruders. Not even a rat scurried out of his sight. “I guess I can’t tease Lysithea about it now.”

Lorenz didn’t reply as he checked the other half of the dark library. The light flickered, casting shadows on his face and Claude couldn’t read his expression.

Curious, Claude tried again. “Even I feel like a ghost can pop out at any moment.”

“Yes,” Lorenz muttered non-committedly, falling in step with Claude as they exited the room. Everything about him was unnaturally stiff, from his shoulders to the way he jerked at every sound. Grinning, Claude leaned closer and blew in his ear.

Lorenz yelped, jumping. Covering his ear, he glared at Claude. “What is wrong with you?”

“Just thought you needed some help relaxing.” Claude held his hands up in surrender. He hadn’t expected this much of a reaction. “Scared?”

“It is not fear.” Lorenz rubbed his arm, looking away. “It’s just…”

They were passing the courtyard now. Half it was still covered in rubble. “It’s not?” he asked as he stepped over a pothole.

“This place…it’s a graveyard,” Lorenz whispered.

“Oh.” There really wasn’t anything else he could say to that. It was. He hadn’t thought of it that way, but it was.

They rounded the corner to the great hall, where they’d temporarily set up the patrol camp. It was the best place to keep an eye on everything. Lorenz added, “You don’t think my father…our lands and people, will end up like this?”

“What’re you talking about?” Baffled, Claude raised a brow. “We’re fighting this war to prevent that.”

“I know, I know, it is just…the Empire will know my father’s decisions. If we fail…” Lorenz gestured around them. “They will not let us off lightly. Everything could disappear.”

“Oh.” Maybe he should have expected this, considering how they were planning to visit Lord Gloucester. Lorenz’s homeland straddled the border of the battlefield, and while his father had managed to balance its duties to the Leicester Alliance with treaties to the Empire, it couldn’t last much longer.

In the dark night, it was easy for old fears to resurface. They were surrounded by ghosts and the silence only made them louder. Even the few merchants that had returned didn’t make enough sound to echo through the great hall.

Lorenz almost seemed to shrink into himself. “I know it is a little late to say all of this.”

Claude studied Lorenz, taking note of how pale he looked in the faint light and how his fingers shook as he held the lantern. If Lorenz couldn’t convince himself, how could he convince his father? Donning a reassuring smile, he shook his head. “It’ll work out.”

While he didn’t pull away, Lorenz looked at him doubtfully. “How?”

“Because we’re here!” Claude squeezed Lorenz’s shoulder, winking. “A Reigan and a Gloucester? You think anyone can stand up to this combo?”

“I…” Lorenz bit his lip as he slowly nodded, looking utterly unconvinced. “I suppose.”

This wasn’t the Lorenz he was used to; he hadn’t even considered it a chance to best him. Claude sat down on a bench as they exited Great Hall and patted the spot beside him. “Come on. Sit.”

“We haven’t finished our patrol,” Lorenz pointed out, eyeing the bench.

“We can have a little break.” He set down the lantern at his feet. “Come on, it won’t harm us.”

“Until we’re attacked.” Despite his grumbling, Lorenz sat down beside him.

“You can keep me warm till then.” Claude slung his arm around Lorenz. He squawked, his ears a bright red, but he didn’t move away.

As usual, a Lone Moon night was a chilly one. On nights like this in Almyra, Claude’s family would gather, telling stories as they warded off the cold. Winter’s claws desperately dug into spring, but a warm night was enough to chase it away.

“What’re you looking forward to?” Claude asked, staring at the lantern. It didn’t take much imagination to see a bigger flame in its stead, to imagine blankets and hot drinks in their hands. In the last several years, he had learned how to sneak in his customs into life, to keep his Almyran memories alive.

“What do you mean?” Lorenz asked, hesitantly leaning closer.

Claude laughed, pulling him close enough so Lorenz could lean on his shoulder comfortably. This time there wasn’t even a squeak, though Lorenz’s ears were an even darker red. “Well, we’re going to your home, right? Tell me about it.”

He didn’t so much see Lorenz’s frown as much as he felt it. “I suspect your intentions.”

“Completely honest and pure,” he replied easily. Resting his chin on Lorenz’s head, he added, “Just think of it as a way to pass the time.”

For a long moment, Lorenz was silent. Then, slowly, he replied, “There’s a rose garden that I’ve hand-planted. It won’t be much in the spring but come summer…you won’t find bigger blooms anywhere else.”

Claude hummed encouragingly, letting Lorenz’s voice chase away the ghosts.

iii.

Byleth’s hand was in his. There were many things Khalid could have been focusing on, like the fact that they were strolling through an Almyran marketplace together. After the war, he hadn’t thought it’d only take a year for him to return to her side, that he’d make it all the way to king so quickly. Absence didn’t only make the heart fonder, it seemed, but his ambitions stronger too.

Or he could focus on what he was saying. Ever since she’d rode into Almyra’s capital, Khalid had taken it onto himself to guide her through his home. Everything was new to her, and while her expression was still hard to read, it wasn’t impossible anymore. Her eyes widened at the brightly coloured stalls, her lips parted at the scent of sizzling meat and fried vegetables, and her grip tightened every time some new, strange sight caught her attention.

Yet, it was hard to care about anything except for the fact that she was here, next to him, her fingers intertwined in his. He wasn’t even sure what he was saying right now, his normally fast mind frozen as he drank in the sight of her. Her hand was just as rough as he’d remembered. Even months as the ruler of Fódlan hadn’t changed that. Calluses and small cuts littered her palm, and his thumb unconsciously brushed a scar on her thumb.

“Why are there so many?” Byleth asked.

“Because—” Khalid stared at her blankly before realizing he had no idea what she was talking about. Or even where they were. At some point they’d passed through the market and reached the start of the residential section. “…sorry, so many what?”

Byleth glanced at him curiously. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he replied immediately, squeezing her hand. “The exact opposite.”

She raised a brow, not buying it for a second. Serious as she was, she more often than not saw right through him and Khalid wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Especially when she was still a mystery to him, one he had yet to unravel. He’d probably spend the rest of his life figuring her out.

He oddly enough didn’t mind.

“The kites,” Byleth finally asked, pointing above them. “There weren’t nearly as many yesterday.”

He followed her hand to the bright blue sky, speckled with dozens of colourful kites. There had been a few in the marketplace as well, but now that they were near the homes, the kites were everywhere. Children laughed and shouted as they stood on the flat rooftops, tugging the strings of their kites as they tried not to tangle one another. Their parents kept a watchful eye, ensuring no one fell off as they played along as well.

Khalid had been so busy planning everything, he’d actually forgotten that spring started today. For once, he wasn’t going to spend it in the cold snows of Fódlan, or their dreary hallways. He wouldn’t have to make up a story on old family customs as he convinced his fellow deer to bring his traditions to life and ease his homesickness a little.

No, it was all right here in front of him.

And yet, he couldn’t help but turn to Byleth. It was the first time he’d seen kites dance in several years and all he wanted to see was her expression as she studied their ribbon tails.

“It’s to celebrate spring,” Khalid replied softly, watching her quiet awe. “Nothing as stuffy as Fódlan’s customs.”

“It is different,” she agreed, turning her head slightly to follow a bright red one as it swooped through the air.

“It’s more fun to join in than to watch.” He let go of her hand, scanning their surroundings for a vendor. They weren’t hard to find; almost every shop was selling kites today.

The closest vendor held out two kites, one teal green and the other golden them. Shaking them, he called out, “For you and your consort, Badshah.”

His people were nosy busybodies. Khalid missed the anonymity of his youth, a time when no one cared about who he was or where he went. Still, he was the king now. It wasn’t surprising they were all watching him now.

“I’ll send payment after,” he replied, resisting the urge to sigh as he gently grabbed the two kites.

“No, there is no need—”

“I’m not that cheap,” Khalid replied, grinning as he returned to Byleth’s side. She cocked her head curiously at the kites. “Now let’s—”

“You can fly them here, Badshah!”

Khalid did sigh now. Busybodies, the entire lot of them. Oh well, it was a nice spring day, with a constant, gentle breeze, and Byleth was at his side. He’d save the complaints for later.

The offered roof was two stories off the ground. From here, he could make out the maze of buildings that made the capital, the rooftops he used to dash across as a mischievous child. Byleth brushed back a stray lock as the wind blew. “We fly them up here?”

“Yeah, best spot in the city is one of these rooftops.” Khalid grinned as he handed her the teal kite. Busying himself with unwinding thread for his kite, he added. “There’s a lot of kites here, so you’ll have to keep a tight hold of yours.”

“Why kites?” Byleth stared at her kite, rotating it in her hands. Noticing what he was doing, she imitated him and started to unravel her thread.

“They’re colourful? Fun?” Khalid shrugged. Almost all of his childhood was filled with mundane things that amounted to just cause. He’d spent so much time looking at Fódlan, that he’d never really considered Almyra. Maybe it was time he changed that.

Byleth held her kite awkwardly in one hand, her string in the other. Tossing the kite in the air, she watched as it immediately crashed in front of her. “Huh.”

Immediately, Khalid burst into laughter. “What was that?”

“Flying a kite,” Byleth replied evenly, picking up the kite. Once more, she tossed it in the air. Once more, it crashed right in front of her.

It was even funnier the second time and Khalid wrapped his arms around his belly as he guffawed. “That’s not flying.”

“How do you do it?” she asked, giving him a baleful look.

“You’ve never flown a kite?” He straightened slightly, rubbing the tears out of his eyes.

“No.” Byleth turned the kite in her hands one more time, but her bemused expression didn’t change.

“I don’t know how you always manage to surprise me.” Khalid shook his head, still laughing as he put down his kite and picked up hers. He held it up, waiting for the wind to push against it. Once it did, he grabbed the line, slowly releasing it into the air. As he moved toward Byleth, he released more and more wire, sending the kite high into the sky. “There you go, one flying kite.”

Byleth scrunched her nose as she observed. “I see.”

Unable to help himself, he broke into laughter. “You don’t have to concentrate that hard. It’s easy.”

Her expression didn’t change as she gingerly took the kite. She looked like a wooden doll, square shoulders, tense arms, stony expression as she glared up at the kite, daring it to fall.

“Seriously?” Khalid snorted. There’d come a day when Byleth ceased to either impress him or amuse him, but it wouldn’t be today. “Here, let me show you.”

Standing behind her, he pressed his palms on her shoulders and forced them down. “Relax.” He leaned forward now, his dark hair mixing with her green locks as he guided her arms into a more neutral position. “The wind does most of the work, you just have to guide it.”

“This is harder than it looks,” Byleth muttered, still looking like the kite had personally wronged her.

“Only for you.” Khalid grinned, tugging on the string slightly so the kite swooped. “If you get really good at it, you can even cut other kite strings with your kite.”

Byleth frowned. “Why would you do that?”

“Kite battles. Though, with your stance, you’ll lose every time. Didn’t think you could be bad at something.” Khalid sighed blissfully, feeling utterly content and warm. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so complete, without something he needed to strive for, without pushing for yet another destination. They could just stay here for the rest of their lives. “You know, I really missed this in Fódlan.”

Byleth didn’t say anything, but he could feel her lean back into him, encouraging him to continue.

“I didn’t think I’d get homesick of all things.” Khalid chuckled, feeling soft at the memories over the years. “I’d find excuses to worm in traditions into whatever we were doing.”

Byleth stiffened slightly. “Is that why you attacked me with coloured water back then?”

“That…yeah.” Khalid had almost forgotten about that incident—it’d been almost six years ago for him, but for Byleth it had only been last year. “You had fun.”

“Fun…” she trailed off doubtfully.

“Well, everyone else did at least.” Khalid grinned. “The actual festival’s going to come up in a few weeks—you can see what the real thing’s like. That is, if you aren’t homesick by then.”

“…I don’t think I’ll be,” Byleth replied easily.

Somehow, that answer didn’t surprise him. “I bet you’ve never felt homesick, huh?”

“No, I have.” Byleth tugged on the kite string, pulling it lower before releasing it back up. “When you were gone.”

Of all the answers he’d expected, that wasn’t one of them. His voice cracked. “Did you now?”

“Yeah.” Byleth concentrated on the kite, as though this were just an idle observation, as though she hadn’t said anything important.

Khalid wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her neck. Despite how stoic she was, she saw everything so clearly. Suddenly, everything clicked into place for him—he’d been feeling homesick too. It didn’t matter if he was in Almyra or in Fódlan, the sights around him meant nothing if she wasn’t by his side. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Byleth hummed, pressing her cheek on his head. “Me too.”

[remmushound]

Curse of the Clan part 53! @selfindulgenz @scentedcandlecryptid

“How do we track Krang?” Leonardo asked when the story concluded.

“You don’t.” Was Knight’s answer, “If Krang is free, he will be seeking revenge on the ones who trapped him; it may not have been you in this life, but Krang will not see the difference. All you can do is wait and trust your instincts. You wouldn’t have been reincarnated if you couldn’t complete this task. He will come to you, and after he does and you defeat him, the council will be there to clean up the mess…

~~~

Back at the lair, Leonardo was stewing in his own thoughts. He, for one, was never good at waiting. If something had to get done, it had to get done right that moment, as soon as possible. No delays, no time for second guessing. Sitting there on the couch, surrounded by his family, doing nothing was the worst kind of torment! He just wanted Krang to find them and fast so they could handle the conflict and return to their normal lives. All this waiting was driving him crazy and he just felt so helpless—

“I feel the same way, Leonardo.” Splinter’s voice sliced through the silence like a blade and made everyone look toward him.

“What?” Michelangelo asked, the fastest one to break out of the silence that had plagued them.

“I feel helpless too.” Splinter said with a slow nod, closing his eyes in solidarity.

“Too?” Raphael asked slowly.

“Yes.” Splinter said; now he too was confused as he opened his eyes and looked around at the faces staring back at him. “Like… like Blue said.”

Silence, followed by Leonardo saying, “No I didn't…”

“No?” Splinter’s ears pressed back. He looked from Leonardo to the rest, who all shook their heads. “Oh…”

Draxum hummed, unamused. “I guess we found Yoshi’s power.”

More silence. The faint trickling of water was a constant this low in the sewer. The rumble of Donatello’s machines across the lair, the hum of the fridge, the low drone of the television that even Splinter wasn’t paying attention to. Eventually, the steady tapping of Leonardo’s fingers joined the melody of background noise.

“I want a kitten.” Michelangelo stated.

“What?” Raphael, and all others, turned to Michelangelo.

“After this whole Krang thing is done, I want a kitten.” Michelangelo stated again, closing his eyes and nodding matter-a-factly, “A fluffy orange kitten and I’m gonna name him Klunk. And I’m gonna buy him the most expensive cat trees to ignore, and give him wet food every day, and buy him lots of feather toys to play with. And he’ll sleep with me every day.”

There were a few moments of the clan looking around at each other, Michelangelo’s hopeful statements ringing in their minds.

“After we defeat Krang…” Leonardo was the next to talk, mind set on breaking the awkward silence, “You know what we’re gonna do? We’re finally gonna finish that Hip Hop Christmas Album.”

His words were met with groans from his father and siblings and confused murmurs from his friends.

“You’re still on that?” April groaned, shaking her head and laughing.

Leonardo threw his arms into the air in surrender. “It’s a good idea! Just because you’re all lame doesn’t mean a hip hop teenage ninja turtle mutant album isn’t a good idea! Have you heard my voice?”

“More than I would care to have.” Donatello commented, rolling his eyes.

“You’re welcome!” Leonardo said, flopping over to rest against Donatello and pull the softshell close, “Love you brother! And Let me guess; you want uranium when this is all said and done.”

“No.” Donatello said with a scoff, then immediately added, “Well— yeah. But I also wanna rebuild Shelldon…” Donatello carefully removed his necklace so he could hold Shelldon’s memory chip in his hand. He stared at it for a long, drawn out moment before Leonardo carefully brought his hand against Donatello’s so they were holding Shelldon together. Donatello finally smiled. “It… it’ll be my next big project… I really miss him…”

Leonardo smiled and rubbed Donatello’s shoulder, which in turn made Donatello rest his full weight into Leonardo and lay his head on his twin's shoulder. Leonardo welcomed the affection gladly and wrapped an arm around the softshell.

April took a deep breath through her nose. “I… would kinda like to start sending in college applications.” She brushed her hair out of the way of her face, “Thinking about going into journalism…”

That was met with an uproar of applause from all but Draxum, who didn't quite seem to know what college was. April was swarmed by hugs and affectionate touches from her friends as they praised her.

“You know we’ll support you every step of the way, Apes!” Raphael declared.

“Yeah! Just way the word and we’ll get you into any school you want!” Leonardo prodded April’s chest. “Within reason, of course.”

“Okay, we need role models, teachers, sources—we’re missing the references, people!” Donatello immediately pulled out his phone and started on seeking out potential references.

“Guys!” April laughed as she shoved the turtles off of her, “All I saw was I was considering it! Still gotta finish up school first.”

“It never hurts to be prepared.” Donatello said.

“Well… I’m not so sure what I wanna do yet.” Sunita said, laughing weakly as she twiddled her hair, “Maybe just get out in the workforce, try some things out…? Maybe something with children?”

“There’s no rush.” Draxum reassured, “I was well into my adult years before I realized I wanted to be an evil, warring warrior scientist!”

“And ignoring that note…” Splinter said slowly, then cleared his throat, “I want to adopt another goldfish. Since Piebald was flushed and mutated, I’ve been feeling a little bit lonely.”

“We can get you another one, Splints.” April smiled as she patted the old rats back affectionately.

“Pathetic!” Draxum growled, jumping from his seat and onto the table so he could make his announcement loud and proud, “While you waste your time adopting a normal, puny goldfish, I shall adopt a shark! And name him Sharky and train him to fight for our cause.”

“It’s not a competition…” Splinter grumbled, slightly jealous that he hadn't thought of it first.

“What do you want to do Cassandra?” Michelangelo asked innocently.

Cassandra considered. Then, taking a page out of Draxum’s book, she kicked over the chair she was sitting in so she could stand on it like a sailor on the bow of his ship tasting the salty winds.

“I want to rip our enemies to shreds, dance on their graves, then dig them back up and—“

“CJ, CJ, CJ.” Leonardo had to repeat the name a few times before he got Cassandra’s attention, standing up to address her while she stared down at him, “We’ve all been talking about, you know, getting pets and jobs and stuff. Killing and then dancing on the graves of our enemies is just a liiiiiiiittle much. So bring the bar just just a little bit. Just a little. Think smaller.”

Cassandra took a while to answer, struggling to think of just one, small thing she really wanted to do. She flipped her chair back over so she could sit backward in it and rest her head on the backrest. Her eyes lit up all at once and she finally knew what she wanted to do.

“I… kinda really want to rebuild my parents old bakery. It was burned down when I was just a kid and… and it was never rebuilt. It’s their legacy and I want to restore it if I can…”

“Aw, that’s sweet Casey…” April wrapped an arm around Cassandra and gave her a gentle squeeze, “If anyone can do that, it’s the great Cassandra Jones!”

“Thanks, Apes…”

“Raph?” Leonardo said with a gentle urgence, “You’re the last one. What do you want to do when we win?”

“I… it’s kinda stupid…” Raphael rubbed the back of his neck.

“We’ll be the judge of that.” Leonardo said, “Lay it on us!”

“I… kinda wanna do a secret santa gift exchange.” Raphael admitted, “One where we all make the presents and don’t just buy the first cheap thing we see. You know… something more special…”

Leonardo smiled widely. “That’s not stupid at all, hermano. In fact? I think that’s the best one yet!”

[abizarreyodelingincident]

Our Nightly Confidant 8

Accept your Wild side

The moon is high up in the sky, and Wild somehow does not fear it turning blood red. That was one of the things that left him wrongfooted before. There are many things he didn't know about the past. But this is one he is glad for. He doesn't want to imagine monsters coming back to life here.

The ranch, at night, is peaceful. So peaceful. Earlier, Malon's singing lulled the animals to sleep, and probably half the group, but it only made his stomach twist. She had laughed and wished them good night, her hand lingering on her husband's shoulder. Time never looked so happy, so relaxed as he did around his wife, well at home. He might have fled the second the others had fallen asleep.

Lying on the rooftop of the barn, Wild's chest ache with guilt.

One more thing to the list. One more thing Hylia wants him to remember.

He's trying, but can't find the words. Can barely make the effort to try. What will he tell Time? How will he... how can he apologize for something like this?

The tearing, rushing sound of shadow magic makes his heart leap for joy. It's the sound that told Wild the amnesiac that he didn't have to travel alone. That there'd be someone to watch over him, in the dark, in the storm, in the cold.

It's one of those sounds that speaks of home like Sidon's boastful greetings, the sing-song of little ritos or the taste of cold melon in desert shade.

Twilight materializes on the edge of the rooftop, furry and all, and Wild struggles to control his breathing for a second longer. He feels the tears close, and he knows Twilight notices them all too well with his wolf senses. Somedays, the shift is instantaneous, a steady hand on his back, a desire to lean back against a solid chest and furred shoulders.

Somedays, it's a beast that settles over his lap, and Wild takes the added weight on his legs like he's been given a second chance. He sighs, hangs his head, and, hands through fur, whispers 'thank you' as he lets the comfort of his brother's presence sink in. There's no need for other words. He runs them through his mind, and they weaken when he gives in and lets go of his tears.

'Thank you,' he tells Hylia for the hundredth time. For giving him that much longer with Twilight.

(He'd been prepared. He had known and Wolfie hadn't hidden it, as well as a wolf could tell him. That time he'd seen the black particles fly skyward, he'd known that was it, his friend was back to the realm of the goddesses.)

(He'd faced Ganon without fear, without faltering, and he'd rescued Zelda after a hundred years of fighting, and he had finally let the shame untie itself around his heart.)

(But he hadn't realized how much it would hurt to walk a lonely road, to see wild wolves that were a blue-ish gray instead of green-hued. To hear barking and never see his friend again.)

(Wild had been told his past self had lost everyone. Wolfie was the first one he did as himself.)

He's dried out the tracks on his face when the shadows shift, and the weight disappears.

“Need to talk about it?” is Twilight's opening move.

Wild thinks about it. “Probably.”

“Do you want to?”

The idea makes his mouth taste of ash.

“Later.”

Twilight doesn't say anything to that, and instead brushes the roof before sitting down and lying on his back. “Recognize any stars?”

Wild chuckles. “Still haven't found the Goatherd up there. Face it, it's a fictional one.”

“All constellations are made up, cub,” Twi replies with a cocky grin.

Wild wags his finger. “No, no, see, if they're in a book somewhere, it's official. It's science! Zelda told me so.”

Twilight rolls his eyes then leans back against the tiles of the roof. “Suuuure it is. Man, if only we had books in Ordon. Silly us.”

The warmth in his chest turns into gentle chuckles, and it's easy to lie back down, just close enough to brush his big brother's side.

He waits it out. It's hard enough to vocalize that he prefers not to take the initiative. It's a few more minutes of calm before Twi picks up on the hint.

“What is it about?”

“The usual.”

Fear. Failure. Disappointment. Guilt. The look in a stranger's eyes, the judgement and demands. That shrinking feeling that makes the air around him want to crush him paper thin. It's the usual. But this time, he can't help how the fear is strong, how the guilt strangles him. It's no wandering stranger, no fragment of his past berating him for things that happened in the great blank that was Link Before.

It's Time. The Old Man. Their Leader.

Twilight hums.

“Have I ever told you about the first time I met an Hylian soldier?”

No. For all they talk and are at ease, unless Wild asks, Twilight doesn't volunteer too much of his past. He's aware Twilight doesn't want to burden him, thinks he has too much on his plate. It's irritating, most times. So he cannot help feel a little eager even when he shakes his head.

Twilight's corner smirk feels a little sheepish. “Didn't think so? Ain't my proudest moment.”

“You? Having done anything you are not proud of? But aren't you the perfect, dutiful hero who knows when it's proper to scout and not?”

“Go swallow a bokoblin gut risotto.”

Wild rolls his eyes at the mention of the we-promised-not-to-mention-that-experiment dish. “I'll make you a portion.”

Twilight suddenly looks a little pensive. “... Think we could trick Fancy into trying it?”

Wild smirks. “There, your hidden fae side. The others never believe me when I mention it.”

“Balance, young hero.”

“Right. Story time!” Wild claps his hands. “So, your first time meeting a Hylian soldier?”

It sobers Twi right up. “... T'was at the start of my journey. Right after the point of no-return. The children of my village were taken, my childhood friend kidnapped, and the adults in a panic. I rushed out of town, and well, got immediately captured and turned into a wolf.”

“... Nice start.”

The bonk on the head is worth it. It wasn't even painful. “Shush. I'm bleeding out and you mock me, you disrespectful child. Where was I? Oh, yeah, turned into a wolf, captured, imprisoned and left to rot in a dungeon.”

The air chills, and Wild finds the story a hell lot less funny. He can't even make a joke about putting a wolf in a cage. It'd be like sand on a wound.

“I met someone there, who helped me escape. Lemme tell you, Cub, dungeons aren't a great place to develop a much greater sense of smell. Honestly, I probably wasn't thinking straight for a bit. I just wanted out. Fresh air. Anything but the walls closing in on me...” – Wild feels the shudder against his body – “I was near the exit when I met him. A proud Hylian soldier of her majesty's army. Right there in the dungeon, left a mere spirit by the twilight's influence. And he... he was cowering in a corner... I hated him.”

There's something to the weight of it that strikes Wild at his core. The sort of darkness that Twi doesn't show, that nothing he does hint at. But even with that, the thing that comes to mind most is what the story means now.

“Wow... ” Wild starts, his voice brimming with forced awe. “You're about as subtle as a goat's kick to the nuts, Twi.”

Warriors and Legend have nothing on the absolutely, smug little smirk on Twilight's face. “Still bitter, aren't cha?”

Wild throws his arms in the air. “Fighting Ganon wasn't half as painful!”

“Well, I hate to say 'I told you so'...”

“Liar! You live for it!”

Twi chuckles. “Yeah. But come on, I told you to face the goats head on.”

“They've got massive horns!”

“And legs. Now you know why no one wrestles cattle from behind. Predators are the only ones that approach the hind legs, and yeah, they get the kicks too.” A more serious look flitter on Twilight's face. “Knew a man or two that died that way, back home. Just, one day, startled an animal and it kicked. Landed on the wrong spot. The wrong rib. The head. Don't mess around cattle, Cub.”

Wild winces. Far more somber than before, he nods for his brother's sake. It's not like he never saw the horses kick when he tried to tame them. Just that he was good at avoiding them even when he was thrown off. He wants to say he would never get killed in such a stupid way, but...

(It had stopped raining, but the rocks were still wet in the shadowed spots. He hadn't known until...)

(He'd woken up to Mipha's voice, and Wolfie's panicked barks and tears, and he'd promised – promised – to never be so careless again.)

“What happened with the soldier?” he asks, because now his mind is on ghosts, and he's never known his big brother to hate them.

Twilight, annoyingly, shrugs. “Well, I broke the curse of twilight on Castle Town, so he's probably just patrolling the street like any other guard.”

“... You didn't look? You never met him again? Not even when you walked back into Castle Town later? I thought you had to do a bunch of quests there?”

“No,” Twilight starts, then frowns a bit to himself. “Maybe?”

A groan builds up in the back of his throat. “Twiliiiiight...”

Said big dumb oaf pushes him, just hard enough for a stumble. “It's not like I got a good look at his face. Or...” He looks away, quieter. “That I had nothing else on my mind at the time. I'd... I'd just been turned into a wild animal and asked to help an imp with some grandiose task. I was running around dungeons, surrounded by ghoul rats, and... there it was, the first glimpse of hope I might have had.”

Wild gulps. He hates to imagine Twilight, Hylian or wolf, ragged, hurt, looking for help and finding...

“He was cowering. I was just a farmer, kidnapped, stolen from home and twisted into this new form. I needed help. And there was a soldier, who'd signed up for this, for the protection of Hyrule and its citizens... She called me naïve. Asked me if I really thought a light worlder could brave the twilight.”

She. Wild tries not to tick at the mention of that one. Does not ask her name, because he knows a wound when he hears one. He focuses on the dungeon. The dark and damp, the chains he recalls, and he places Wolfie there, scared, and it makes him burn with anger to have the first person his brother come across turn him away.

But Twilight's lips are twisted in a grimace, his eyes heavy as they take in the night over Lon Lon Ranch.

“He was scared. And I hated him. Was I really any better? A man who couldn't take a step in the twilight without passing out? When my bones rattled with the thoughts of those critters crawling all over my body again?”

“You pushed through,” Wild says, because Twilight had to have. Twilight won. Twilight went on his quest and he saved Hyrule. Twilight hadn't... he...

“Yeah. I went through Hyrule, and one by one, saved the Light Spirits, reforged the Mirror of Twilight, fought the Usurper and the King of Evil. And along the way, I picked up some allies, mourned the people I was too late for and embraced those I saved. But I didn't forget that man. When I saw the kids of my village, locked in a basement in fear of monsters, I remembered. And it was a little easier to forgive. When I reached Zora's domain and saw the hundreds frozen in ice, the ghost of the queen begging me to help her son... ”

His voice falters, becomes thick with emotion. And Wild can't help flash back to Muzu's accusation, to Sidon's sad smile when he mentions Mipha's gift to him. He hadn't thought...

There's something knowing in Twilight's eyes. “Gifted me a Zora armor and everything. Some things don't change, Cub.”

“They should,” he whispers, unable to keep the raw hurt from it.

Twi snakes an arm around him, and brings him close. “Aye, they ought to, but sometimes they don't. It's out of our hands. We don't get to make the world the goddesses put us in. Just what we do in it. Maybe I don't bow to the guards in my Hyrule, Cub, but I don't hate them either. They were men. Just that. I was wrong to hate them for something out of their control.”

Twilight really is as subtle as a goat's kick to the nuts.

Maybe it's his turn. Like a bomb in a shrine. Go off once, and watch the whole thing crumble.

“There was a Lon Lon Ranch in my Hyrule...” he starts, slow, with a sob building deep in his chest, “I found the ruins. You could make a beeline from it to Castle Town. But... it was overrun by guardians.”

The wood under him feels hot. Feels like it's burning, like it'll collapse any second now as a reminder that even when his fellow heroes build themselves a life, he'll be right there around the corner to ruin it all.

“It just... we're here now, and there are plenty of ruins in my era, but I never... I never met the owners, but Malon's so kind to us, and the Old Man trusts me, and I can't bear thinking of their disappointment when they learn-”

“Cub, if your next sentence includes any variation of the word 'failure', I will shove you off this roof.”

Wild blinks. His words peter out. He sees the absolute seriousness of Twilight's threat. Then, confidently, “You wouldn't. I could be injured.”

Twilight's glare goes deadpan. “I will shove you off that side” – he points to the other side of the roof – “where we shoveled the cow manure. It won't hurt. Even if you land head first.”

That threat is a great deal more plausible.

There is silence, some variation that hints at the snores of the cows and horses in the barn below, that suggests the song of crickets and buzzing fairies by the grass, the stern, patient glare that only grows sharper every second it lasts.

Then, slowly, Wild scoots away from his big brother.

“Wild!” Twilight harshly calls.

“I'm sorry!” Wild yelps, taking off and running around the chimney to put something between them.

“Don't apologize! It wasn't your fault!”

They circle the chimney, feinting left and right.

“I was the Chosen Hero! I trained for the Calamity my entire life!”

“You had an entire country's worth of people helping! How can it be your fault alone? They dug those machines up, they armed themselves with weapons that Ganon had already faced! None of your people saw it coming, but you still fought to your death, even after everyone else had passed! Why is it your fault?!”

“Then why did everyone blame me?” he breaks, and he feels the low, background pain suddenly rush at the front of his mind. Every little sneer, every snide comment, every moment he pulled down his hood just to avoid recognition...

“They were wrong! All of them! The whole fucking country!” Twilight growls back. “They put Hyrule's destruction on your hands, when it was Ganon. Half of them weren't even alive when it happened. They had no right to blame you! If they wanted the world to be better, they should have made it better themselves! And if they couldn't, they didn't have the right to blame the only person that was still trying!”

His knees shake. He needs to grab onto the chimney's edge to stay upright. The want in his heart hurt so much. He feels his whole being lean into Twilight's words, scream at him to believe, to push past the memories and remember only the good, the smiling greetings, the cheers, the wedding, the sight of Zelda finally, finally freed from her battle to protect Hyrule. “Twilight,” he croaks. “Why didn't you... why did you stay? You knew... I'd died. I was a clueless, directionless, scattered-brain idiot! I'd done nothing to be worth your help. I was just like that guard. Why didn't you… Why don't you hate me?”

The hand that grabs his wrist closes with a steel grip. The shock jumbles his self-loathing enough that he glances up, and meets the fiercest blue he's ever seen. “Look me in the eyes and say you think I  can  hate you.”

It's like getting sucker punched. All the air in his lungs leave. Even though his panicked, overworking brain screams that yes, yes he could, hadn't he just told him all about him hating the failure of Hyrule's army? But he can't levy that knowledge against everything he knows now. He can't even make it counterweight the idea that, maybe, being steady now meant he found his balance before. It's all meaningless noise in the end. Wild just needs one look at Twilight, and even his worst insecurities relent.

“It's different! You're you,” he says, helplessly gesturing to all of Twilight. Like that's supposed to explain everything. “And-”

“And Time's Time,” Twilight completes. “Malon's Malon. Need I go on?”

“It's not the same!”

“Fine!”

Twilight gives him The Look. Not his imitation of Time's disappointed Look. But his patented I-will-outstubborn-you-and-the-goddesses-themselves Look. Wild is intimately aware that none of his companions have seen it as frequently as him. They haven't learned to fear it yet even though they should. They really, really should.

(Twi wrestles goats taller than him for fun. He wrestles gorons for fun. Wild himself knows better than to try that stunt after Daruk! Twi's insane and no one else has noticed!)

Teeth grind together, and there's the bitten out words that push him off balance.

“There is no Lon Lon Ranch in my Hyrule. Is that my fault? Should I get down on my knees before the Old Man and beg for forgiveness?”

Wild's reply dies in his throat, a strangled croak.

That can't be right.

He knows that Twilight's before him and after Time. Twilight's said so, the records existed about both of them, the order they were in, and Twilight so obviously knew the Old Man before this started...

But... Twilight had never mentioned the Lon Lon Ranch before. Part of him had been assuming... Except, no, it's always been about Ordon, the province of Hyrule from which he hails, the farmer village and the ranch on which he herds his precious, dumbass goats.

There's no Ordon either, Wild realizes with a strangle grasp of guilt. What part of his predecessors did he not ruin?

A hand cuffs the back of his head, and the shock of pain is just enough to get him to stick his tongue out. Twilight, in response, raises an eyebrow like he can read his thoughts. He probably can though, given how much practice he has.

“Ordon's gone by the time of your era, Cub. Renamed and probably rebuilt differently. I wouldn't recognize it if I walked the land myself. Don't try and shoulder that.”

But what else is he supposed to do about it?

“Let it be.”

But the lost-

Twilight hooks an arm around Wild's neck, and pulls him close. “Don't try to hold on to long gone dreams. Not everything's meant to last forever, Cub.”

Wild averts his gaze, who is suddenly so heavy he can only look down. Can only blink away the beginning of tears. He knows. He knows that nothing lasts forever, even this quest, but... why can't anyone stay a little while longer?

Twilight's voice softens, low and rumbling like Wolfie's noises. “We'll have to go our own way. We ain't nobodies. We're the Heroes of Courage. There's always gonna be someone in need of us in our own times. But you won't be alone. There's your Zelda, and your new Champions. Sidon'd love to cheer you up. And Farore knows Yunobo would need your delicate touch to get him out of his shell.”

He lets out a watery laugh. “Did I tell you about that time Zelda asked him to test a new model of cannons?”

Twi snorts, and the two of them manage to sit back down, lean against the chimney. His thoughts drift away from the memories of the ruined ranch, when time passes them by and a shooting star twinkles above.

“Farore's tear,” Twi points, “say a prayer.”

Wild indulges, though it goes toward Hylia. Quickly enough, he opens his eyes again, and shoots his big lump of a brother a look. “What will you do? Once we defeat whoever's behind our warping?”

“Well, probably try and avoid Zelda,” he says, sheepish, one finger scratching his cheek.

His bafflement is written all over his face, Wild knows, but he still needs to ask, in the flattest voice possible, “What?”

“My Queen and I ain't... It's more of a knightly what's it called. Fancy would know. Ah, whatever, call it what it is: respect, trust. And I know she will insist on a report. She's no fool, that one. Knows I wouldn't go off gallivanting for weeks and months on end for no reason. And she's not fond of being left in the dark. But I'll be darned if I ain't making a bee line for Ordon once this is over. I... I want to hug Colin, share an ale with Rusl and Uli, learn which of Lumi's firsts I missed, which I'll have to make up for the little lass.”

Lumi, Twilight's youngest adopted sibling. Few years old. Probably spoiled rotten the way Twi talks about her. In his mind, he pictures... a little brunette, tugging at Twilight's legs to be spun around and get piggyback rides. Maybe picking even a small stick, to play fight like her giant brother.

And Twilight would turn around, to ask Warriors to help train their little fighter and... blink at nothing. Shrug. That's what Wild's afraid of. The day he'll wake up and find he only needs to make breakfast for one instead of nine. That the others will move on and he will have to build yet another place for himself.

He hums, not wanting his voice to betray him.

“Home's where you make it, Cub.” Gentle fingers brush Wild's hair. He melts into the touch. “Sounds hypocritical when I'm the one who's always had a stable place, but even on my journey, especially near the end, I was home too. Home was a campfire and a princess with wits sharper than my sword and hair shifting like flames. It was the quiet of a cold night in the desert with lizards roasting over crackling embers. Back then, I was as happy as a goat in pasture. It never felt like it would end.”

A haunted shadow passes in Twilight's gaze.

“But it did,” he whispers. “It did, and now we're here, a new adventure, a new home for us.”

Wild hates the pain in his brother's voice. Hates that he sees his own hurt reflected, and a selfish part of him is even glad. It feels like love, this understanding. “I'll miss you,” he says, the only thing that can convey just how much he dreads the future.

“And I'll miss you too, you wild cub. No matter what insane scheme you cook up in that brain of yours, I'll miss every second of it.” Then he pulls back. “Also, don't be daft, you paid nearly five thousand rupees for that house in Hateno and chopped I don't know how many trees, you ain't just throwing that away on a whim, Cub. Sell it if you want to move.”

The non-sequitur throws him off. “I'm not!” Wild stammers, blushing. “Bolson would freak if I let it go to ruin a second time! And I still have to show Zelda around the place too.” The snicker makes him look down, grumble. “Mother cucco.”

“Good,” – the hand is rougher, no less affectionate, when it scrambles his fringe – “some sense at long last! There's hope for the future!”

Hope. Maybe Twi's not just a stupid farmer hunk. Maybe he should give that a try.

Wild's grin is a small, hopeful thing. “Who knows? Maybe we'll get to go on a third adventure together.”

He's heard a few curses about the goddesses from the others before, but he knows Hylia can't be  too cruel if she sent Twilight his way. He'll never admit it in front of witnesses, but, at the very beginning, he needed someone to watch over him. Though, Wild thinks with a bit of irritation, only at the beginning. He learns quickly. And it was mostly... the loneliness afterward.

Twilight sighs, wistful and despairing, and teasing. “That'd be something. More months of babysitting.”

Wild, despite himself, rises to the bait. “Excuse me. Which one of us attracted the wrong attention and got chased through Hyrule Fields?”

Instead of the sheepish, boyish grimace Wild was expecting, Twilight's mouth split open in a wide shit-eating grin. “You were overthinking it.”

“O-overthinking...? Wait. You did that on purpose?! There were three guardians! We nearly died!”

“Nearly never counts, young hero.”

“I broke twelve weapons!”

“You were overburdened. It would have slowed you down.” Twilight waits the right amount of heartbeat in incredulous silence, then adds: “Also, you had spent twenty minutes trying to decide whether or not you should replace your broadsword with that flaming flamberge. After that fight, you had plenty of space in your inventory. No need to hunt some Farore-damned koroks.”

Wild stares, his jaw hanging. The world just backflipped and landed flat on its face. Twilight... he what?!

“Hylia, I changed my mind. Don't reunite us past this. He'd lead me to my death.”

Twilight eventually recovers from his bellows of laughter. But the grin that remains has an edge of fangs to it, something impish that reminds him of Time's cryptic comments and Wind's mischief. “I would not. But in the event that we do die an inglorious death, the others will assume it was your fault anyway.”

Wild sputters. “W-what? No, I'd describe in excruciating details how you, big lump of a wolf, just ran straight at monsters with no plan!”

“Who would they believe between us? The wild, mannerless pyromaniac that's constantly pulling death defying stunts? Or the dutiful, dull farmhand that's always trying to reign him in? Just imagine the scene.”

Wild does. The image comes to him unbidden, of some sort of white featureless plain full of fog and the spirits of his brothers-in-arms, where they both just materialize there, singed by the fatal explosion of some guardian's laser.

He wouldn't even get a chance to speak.

They'd all just send him various flat looks and pat Twilight on the back, calling it a good run. It was bound to happen eventually. And Twilight, the ass, would soak it all up as if it was earned and not his plan in the first place!

He needs to sit down. “Holy shit, you're worse than Ganon.”

Twilight offers him a bottle of Lon Lon milk. Likely poisoned, he thinks, after that revelation. He sips some of it anyway. It's good milk.

“Wild, you can't even fathom the depths of my mercy.”

See, someone who could make 'mercy' sound ominous had no right to complain about being called evil.

“You're scaring me.”

Twilight's legs swing over the edges of the rooftop. “Good, because it seems you haven't realized how much blackmail I sit on. Months, Cub. Months and months of travels with no one to tell you no. Every embarrassing thing you've ever done, I was a witness to.”

It's probably a bit sad that Wild can't even narrow it down to a handful of incidents.

“But I haven't destroyed you yet, Cub.”

Wild fights the full body shiver that crawls down his spine. “Don't think I won't bring you down with me! I have pictures! Ah! Who will they believe now?”

“Me,” Twilight replies flatly.

He hates that this one simple word deflates his hard-earned comeback. “I hate you so much, Twi.”

“Aw, I love you too, little brother.” The arm that hooks around his neck is none too gentle. “So stop jumping over fucking lava!”

“No, I'm a free spirit! And I won't listen to your evil whispers anymore!”

With practiced ease, Wild ducks under the moblin arm trying to strangle him and slips by the edge of the rooftop. A kick pushes him forward, and he backflips just to strut over Twilight's lumbersome build, and lands in the pile of hay. Twilight has barely the time to shoot a warning 'Oy! Get back here!' that Wild sprints away into the darkness. The tearing, blockish sound of Twilight's teleportation rings behind him, and he doubles his speed. Dumb wolves can't climb over the fences or the cliffsides that surround the ranch.

He's halfway around the track when he realizes that his chest no longer pangs with the echoes of guilt. And the first thought that comes to mind is 'that conniving goat-lover!'

 ***

 Three days later, after a trek through Sky's forests, Four is the one that speaks the thing that's on all their mind.

“So... anyone else is wondering why Wild is so unusually well-behaved?” he says once Wild is out of earshot, having left with Sky to wash down dishes in a nearby stream.

Wind nods heavily as others voice their assent. Hyrule, in particular, looks a little put off since being told 'no' to exploring the region yesterday. The fact that it had been said through gritted teeth had confused him a little, but he hadn't managed to find out the reason. Wild had just asked the others to witness how he was being a 'respectable hero that follows rules, remember that'.

Legend and Warriors, though, don't seem too concerned. Counting their good fortune maybe. They do, however, make a bet about it. “Better that than moping around,” Legend snarks.

“Don't be mean,” Hyrule says, chastising. “Though I guess I'm glad he's feeling better.”

Time, wordlessly, glances at Twilight, who may or may not be staying in the background, leaning against a tree with the face of a wolf left alone to watch over three defenseless and tasty lambs. The expression does not waver at his mentor's silent question. Far from it.

“Spite, reverse psychology and some long term planning,” Twilight drawls.

That sends a shiver down their spine.

[maybedefinitely404]

Not Your Typical

Genre: college AU, hurt/comfort (kind of?)

Pairings: romantic Demus, Logicality, and Prinxiety

Content: some language, autistic character, sensory overload, mentions of losing friends in the past, anxiety, unintentional self harm, Roman is kind of a jerk but he regrets it, food mentions, unable to eat certain consistencies, beach/water/swimming, Janus being a disaster gay, ASL, selective mutism.

Word count: 6k

Comments: Like always, I don’t intend for these to be so long. Holy cow.

Janus is written based mostly on my experiences as someone with autism, and how it’s affected my childhood/relationships/daily life. No one’s experience is the same.

Janus was always alone. Alone, not lonely. 

Most of the time, that is. 

His whole childhood was an endless cycle of make a friend, weird them out, be alone. Find another friend, weird them out, be alone. And sometimes it hurt, yeah, but he got used to it. At home, he spent the entire day in his room, assembling structures out of legos before tearing them down and starting over. Sometimes he’d build something really cool, and that would stay up for a long time. He didn’t have any siblings, and his parents didn’t give a whoop as long as the floor was generally clear, so no one ever bothered the space ships or towers or just really long lines that stretched from one wall to the other. He liked those. 

Things changed when he got to middle school. Life started getting real, people became more than just recess friends, and that unsettled him. He made a couple close friends, friends that he really opened up to only for them to leave him when he became too much. He just couldn’t help it though; he couldn’t help the way he bounced when he got so excited he couldn’t breathe, or how he couldn’t use words when he got overwhelmed by the touch and the noise, or how he couldn’t stop talking about his favorite shows or books. He was labeled as childish. It was like a label had been stuck to his chest that read “avoid at all costs”, and people did. 

So he relearned how to be alone. He put a lava lamp next to his bed for when he needed something constant to look at, he got a collection of chewy necklaces and stim toys that never left his room. After a lot of research, he convinced his parents to buy him a weighted blanket for when every touch was too light, too agonizingly light, and he needed something firm to ground him. At school, or really around anyone, he learned to control his more obvious stimming and touch sensitivity by staying in oversized sweaters and jeans. He taught himself basic sign language for when he couldn’t talk, even though he knew his parents wouldn’t understand him. They took forever to learn basic signs, for ‘water’ or ‘quiet’ or ‘no’, and both eventually got frustrated and gave up. As if their frustration was anything compared to his. 

It was going great, not perfect but better than before, until he graduated high school. Suddenly he realized he was about to move halfway across the country, to a new environment with new triggers and new people who didn’t understand that he wasn’t frowning because he was pissed, but because smiling when you didn’t understand the reasoning was exhausting. Why do people smile and greet you when they enter the room? Why couldn’t that be more of an… understood thing? I’m here, you’re here now, we both know that, so why bring so much attention to it? For once his parents were kind enough to help him out, taking him to the campus during the summer to get acquainted with the surroundings and learn the map by heart. He talked to the admission’s counselor, explaining his disability and why that meant he couldn’t be on the side of campus near the highway, because the constant noise and common sirens would make him explode. They were eventually able to move him to one of the other buildings, one with apartments instead of dorms, even though that was generally only for third and fourth years. It took a load off his shoulders; less noise, less people. The one thing he couldn’t do was meet his roommates before the year started. 

The school got them into contact, and since he was the last to be assigned to the six person pod, they added him into their pre-established group chat. The other five already had nicknames, ranging from ‘Dad’ to ‘Rat Bastard’, and he immediately felt like an outsider. Not like that was new to him, though. Except, he didn’t stay like that. When one of the group, ‘Nerdy Mcnerd’ on the chat (he’d long forgotten their actual names), asked him what he liked and he immediately sent a list of special interests and hyperfixations, the top being snakes, it was like a door had been opened. Nerdy Mcnerd was a fan of space as well, and the two stayed up until all hours of night on their own chat discussing space and their place in the universe. Rat Bastard had an affinity for what people would categorize as “creepy animals”; octopi and squid, spiders, star-nosed moles, and most importantly, snakes. Their conversations mostly involved dopey pictures of snakes and unintelligible key smashes and emojis. Emo Disaster shared his love of darker themed TV shows, and they started a couple new ones at the same time, constantly updating each other with theories. When he mentioned his major was psychology, Dad was immediately overjoyed to be sharing the major with someone, and offered to help him study for the harder classes. He didn’t hit it off quite so well with Princey, who was put off by Janus’ so called “moodiness” and didn’t trust him. 

When they finally met, it was supposed to be great. Janus knew the environment, somewhat knew his roommates, and was surprisingly excited for the new year. His joy was suddenly vanquished, however, as meeting these people face to face took a turn for the worse. Dad, Patton, immediately tried to go for the hug when he walked into the apartment for the first time, and was slightly taken aback when Janus reared back so hard he hit his head on the wall. The glee disappeared and he apologized profusely, and that’s when Nerdy Mcnerd, Logan walked in, explaining that Patton was very physical. They were over it rather quickly, but Janus shuddered as soon as the other two turned to each other. They had already claimed one of the three rooms for themselves, so Janus chose the one furthest into the apartment. He dropped his suitcases next to one of the two beds with a deep sigh. The thought of a hug… no. It unsettled him greatly, made his skin crawl. Maybe one day, but not now. 

Emo Disaster and Princey, Virgil and Roman, arrived later in the day, hand in hand, bickering animatedly when they walked into the apartment. They were greeted with a huge hug from Patton and a side hug from Logan, and that’s when Janus recalled that they had all been roommates the year prior and again, felt a small tinge of pain. He was still the odd one out. Virgil gave a two finger salute to where Janus was sitting curled up on one of the bar stools, knees pulled to his chest and for the first time, Janus didn’t feel compelled to give a forced smile in greeting. It was a relief. The small nod was all that was needed. Roman however, was a different story. When they happened to make eye contact for the first time, the taller man still standing in the doorway, Janus flinched. Hard. The man’s eyes burned through him, as if scouring through his brain, eyes so full of passion that Janus had to look away. Eye contact was only an issue for him sometimes, but with Roman, it physically hurt. Which only made the theatre major more suspicious of him. As he passed him on the way to get a glass of water, the taller man blurted out, “You’re a first year, why are you in a third year building?”, earning him a gentle smack from Virgil. He answered with a lame shrug and rushed back to his room, conceding to just go to sleep, regretting leaving his drink on the counter. 

No one besides Janus was surprised when the door burst open at three am and a loud voice screamed, “I’M BACK, FUCKERS!” He was frozen in place, woken with such an adrenaline rush that he couldn’t move. Outside, the other four exited their rooms with varying levels of annoyance and delight, greeting the final member of the group. Remus, as Janus heard them proclaim, was his roommate, the only two dwellers not in a relationship. The gremlin burst into the room, a deranged smile on his face, and Janus wanted to cry. Why did he have to be stuck in a room with the loud one? But Remus saw the mismatched eyes poking out from under the blanket and with no hesitation, sunk to the floor next to the bed, still smiling but a million decimals softer. 

“Hey, Snakey. Sorry to scare ya. I’m Remus, but you can still call me Rat Bastard if you want. Call me whatever, I don’t really get offended. You go back to sleep, I’m gonna get settled in. We can talk in the morning.”

Janus wasn’t planning to fall asleep, not with this new person in his room, but Remus was shockingly silent as he unloaded his things (he packed a bunch of garbage bags, not even a suitcase or box), and he couldn’t help the way his eyes slipped shut. 

First semester came to a close, and he was equally delighted and horrified that everyone was staying on campus for break. It had become harder and harder for him to avoid movie nights, or family dinners (as Patton called them), or days they all went into town together. In the beginning, he put it off to being tired. Then, studying for exams. Now with school halted for nearly a month, he was out of excuses. It was getting to the point where he could feel the frustration from his roommates, and he wanted to admit how much he wanted to spend time with them, until his drawer full of secret stim toys and chewy necklaces called him back. At times, he let himself spend time with them. Baked something with Patton, talked about the stars with Logan, sat with Virgil as they studied, and it was good. He never was able to escape Roman’s cynical glares that made him absolutely shudder, but he got on much better with his twin. 

Remus never minded if Janus only greeted him with a raised eyebrow, and he was okay to have more one sided conversations while Janus drew, or after a few weeks, stared unapologetically. Because god, there was so much about Remus that Janus couldn’t help but watch, even if a normal person would get uncomfortable by his wide and unblinking eyes. Luckily, Remus was no ordinary person. But the younger still kept the drawer to himself, only allowing himself to nom on the plastic or squeeze the orbeez filled squishy snake with intense fascination when he was alone. So every time he was with the others and felt the need to stim or infodump or was about to have a stress induced meltdown, he would excuse himself and leave without so much of a goodbye. He couldn’t, not in front of them. Every time he left, he could hear Roman’s quiet remarks about him that stung more than he wanted to admit. 

He’d had so many people leave, people he allowed himself to get close to, only for them to see the side of himself he tried to hide. In his heart, he knew that part of him wasn’t bad. It was just him. Other people didn’t understand that, though. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that no one would judge him, or laugh at him because they weren’t like that, he was scared. The effort was wearing him thin, and it came to the point where he realized he had to tell them. He had to, or he would burst, and that would be way worse.

It was just three little words: I. Am. Autistic. And he’d explain everything, tell them about his stims and limits and how he needed space sometimes and hugs others, and spill everything about himself, and they’d accept him. They’d have to, right? Only, the night he was planning to blurt out the truth, something stopped him. 

They were eating dinner, one of the only ones he’d attended in a while. Patton kept glancing at him from across the table as he picked half heartedly at his lasagna, distracted from the lively conversation between the twins and Virgil. The whole thing was speckled with bite sized pieces of mushrooms and zucchini, two of the foods that he couldn’t eat to save his life. The texture made him want to recoil into himself and scream and yank at his hair, and he’d learned early in life that that wasn’t a normal response to food. He wanted to explain to Patton that it wasn’t the meal itself he was avoiding, that it wasn’t Patton’s cooking that he didn’t like, it was just the texture of those two things. 

Well, maybe that was a good gateway into his big announcement, if you could even call it that. It felt almost as scary as his coming out to his parents had been. If they didn’t take this well, he might be exiled from the group. If they tried to put up with them, they’d get irritated so quickly and slowly freeze him out. He really didn’t want that. It needed to happen though, he realized. How much worse would it be if one of them walked in on him having a meltdown, holding a pillow over his mouth to block his screams, biting almost animalistically on a necklace? How unsettled would they be if they saw him hitting his blanket pile out of repulsion of the feeling of his textbook pages? Better to warn them ahead of time. It was only luck that had gotten him this far.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Logan hit the table with the heel of his hand and let out an almost guttural scream before storming into his and Patton’s room, slamming the door behind him. Janus nearly fell backwards off his chair, matching Virgil’s surprised expression. Roman went silent, wincing slightly.

“What…” It was the first word he’d said the entire meal. Patton whipped his head towards him as if he’d forgotten he was there, a sudden sympathetic look on his face. He gave a weak smile.

“Sorry about that, kiddo. Logan has autism, sometimes he can’t handle the stimulus around him. Or maybe he just had a rougher day than I thought. I’ll check on him after dinner, give him some alone time.”

Logan has autism.

Logan has autism. 

Oh my god.

It was like everything clicked into place. His passionate talk about topics he was interested in that could rival Janus’ (if he would ever let himself infodump like he wanted). His mannerisms, his occasional emotional outbursts, his rigorous unbreakable schedule, it all made sense. For a brief second, Janus was elated. Someone like him, someone who understood! And if they accepted Logan, maybe they would be able to understand him, even if they presented different areas of the spectrum. 

But… how would that look? Janus had hidden away his neurodivergent traits for so long, repressed them until he felt like he would literally explode… what if they thought he was faking it? It’s not like they knew him well, not with the amount of time he avoided being around them. They might think he was lying to get attention, didn’t want to be left out. Wanted to be special.

Patton seemed to be waiting for a response, he noted. He gave a curt nod, hoping it displayed that he was unbothered by Logan’s disability, before giving a stupid excuse about some reading to finish over break and darting back to his room. Remus joined him later, saying nothing about the fact that Janus was huddled under his weighted blanket, no book in sight. He sat down in front of the bed, a common habit of his now, and began to quietly talk about some new dark fantasy story he was designing, his lilting voice soothing Janus to sleep.

Time passed, winter came and went, and the end of second semester was drawing near. Janus was still careful with the way he presented to the others. They had picked up that he didn’t like physical contact, and though they never said a word about it, Patton’s lasagna recipe shifted, kept changing, until it no longer included mushrooms and zucchini. Janus refused to believe it was for his sake, though. He tried to join them for a couple movie nights, but the constant fear of stimming made his anxiety spike, therefore finding the need to stim more compelling, until he had to leave. It was getting harder, however, now that it was that pleasant in-between time where he understood how his new profs worked but it wasn’t exam season yet. His excuses were dwindling. Like always, Roman made his stupid quips that hurt him more than was probably intended, and he’d finally had enough. 

Maybe that’s why he was staring out at the open lake in front of him, hands playing absentmindedly with the hem of his shirt as Patton and Remus squealed, sprinting into the water without a second thought. One of their shirts had landed on Janus’ sandaled foot, and he quickly kicked it off as the light touch began to irritate him. Logan stood to his side, watching his boyfriend with an almost imperceivable smile. 

“You guys could have helped carry stuff if you were just going to stand there!” Roman’s indignant voice carried over the lawn, muffled slightly by the pile of towels he was carrying. Virgil snorted, whether in agreement or at Princey’s expense, Janus didn’t know. Either way, he dumped his handful of lawn chairs unceremoniously onto the lawn at their feet. 

“You two set these up then. I’m hot, I’m going swimming.”

“Damn right, you are,” Roman grinned. Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Damn right I’m hot, or I’m going swimming?”

“Yes.” He didn’t give any of them a second to retort, scooping up a shrieking Virgil before sprinting them both into the water. 

“They didn’t even take their shirts off,” Logan commented, picking up a chair from the pile and unfolding it. Janus quickly joined in, helping him set the four chairs into a line and placing the towels down in front of them. “Did you want to go swimming?”

Admittedly, Janus hadn’t actually gone swimming, much less to the beach, since he was a kid. He was lucky to have even found a swimsuit amongst his other barely worn clothing; how it had snuck into his suitcase, he didn’t know. The water looked inviting and it was hot, but right now he was exhausted from the long ride over in Remus’ truck, having to refrain from plugging his ear when it got too loud or maintain his breathing carefully when a leg touched his.

“Maybe in a bit. I’m kind of tired.”

Logan turned to look at him, dare he say scrutinizingly? He washed the expression away quickly, asking, “Would you like me to stay with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Janus mumbled, “You go have fun. I’ll be fine, I like the quiet.” As if to punctuate his point, a child screamed from the playground, making them both flinch.

“Are you positive?”

“Yes. Go enjoy yourself, Logan.”

He nodded curtly, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluent motion and walking towards the waves professionally, as if he were walking towards a lecture. Patton cheered from the water.

Janus didn’t concern himself with the time as it passed, instead letting his mind wander while he focused on a line of ants that were crawling up a tree next to him. It wasn’t until a fast approaching form caught his attention did he tear his eyes away, hearing him give a shout of “Be right back!”.

Remus plopped himself onto the towel next to him, still panting from the run, but grinning from ear to ear. As he ripped open a water bottle and drank greedily, Janus couldn’t help but stare. Water glistened on his skin like jewels in the afternoon sun, plastering his hair down over his jaw and eyes. His eyelashes were barely fluttering against his cheekbones as he guzzled nearly half of the bottle, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. The jut of his shoulder, almost touching his throat, taking his weight as he leaned back on his arm… the whole thing was fascinating. People interested Janus as a whole; the way they functioned, how they seamlessly picked up on little cues from others that Janus was still in the process of figuring out, even down to intricate biology of cells was incredibly captivating. But Remus was so much more than that. His voice when he spoke him to sleep, never mentioning it the next day, the way his dark eyes glimmered with hope when Janus agreed to eat with them, the twitch of his moustache as he covered a laugh at Patton’s corny jokes. 

He was art, plain and simple. 

Janus didn’t know if what he felt was romantic attraction. It sure felt like it, except it had never felt quite like this before. It wasn’t that he was asexual or anything, he was actually decently far from it. It was just how uncomfortable most physical contact made him that gave him the idea he might never have a partner in the way that he wanted. He wanted to hold hands, to cuddle, to kiss… but at the same time, he didn’t. That is, he didn’t know how he’d handle it. Sure, he’d had crushes in the past, cute boys from his classes or celebrities in the shows he hyperfixated on, and still the feeling of uncertainty had stayed. With Remus, something was different though. Never before had a crush ever felt so breath stealing, chest clenching, awe inspiring-

“Like what you see?” 

Janus flinched, realizing Remus had finished drinking and was beaming at him with that stupid gorgeous gleam in his eyes. He looked at his lap immediately, feeling his face heat up. 

“Sorry.” 

“Not a problem,” Remus smirked, having the audacity to wink at him before standing up. “I’m going back in. Coming?” He reached out his hand, hopeful. Janus took a breath, acknowledging that this was his first time initiating contact since he’d arrived, and grabbed Remus’ hand. The surprise on the other’s face was almost enough to make him laugh. He pulled the younger to his feet, keeping a firm hold in Janus’ hand. And… that was okay. 

Until it wasn’t. 

The second his feet touched the sand, it was like alarm bells exploded behind his eyes. He couldn’t describe it, but it felt wrong. It gave in too much, light sprinkles of sand covered the top of his feet and instantly every nerve was on high alert. He ripped his hand from Remus’, stumbling backwards onto the grass again. The elder spun to him with concern.

“Snakey? What happened?”

“I- hmm, no. I can’t. Nope. No no no. Wrong. It… hmmmm. Can’t.” The last word dragged out as his brain seemed to disconnect from his mouth. His mind didn’t work, so focused on how every blade of grass was swiping along his soles too softly, too gentle, too much. His hands had curled into fists and he was fighting against everything inside him to scream bloody murder, because oh god the wind was brushing the hair onto the back of his neck and it tickled and make it stop make it stop!

Janus could vaguely hear someone shout, and the loudness floored him. Get away, get away, it’s too much it’s too much. The feeling of the grass was gone, and he was sitting on his beach towel, but the wind was still brushing his hair too much, so he grabbed at it uselessly, begging it to stop, stop, stop. 

“What’s happening?” Roman.

“Is he okay?” Patton.

“Does he look okay?” Virgil.

“Janus, breathe. You’re safe.” Logan.

 Yeah, he knew that. He knew, objectively, that the wind isn’t out to get him and grass doesn’t hurt and sand isn’t supposed to fry your nerves. That didn’t change the fact that it did for him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it connected that they were seeing him have a meltdown, finally. But he couldn’t focus on that, not when someone was touching his arm why are they touching my arm LET GO! 

He screamed now, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His breaths were ragged and gaspy, hands ripping at his hair to try and stop the fluttering strands. Then there was a new sound, an engine, a boat, and with it came the deep bass of some terrible music and there were people shouting and his head was hurting, why was it hurting so bad?! New hands grabbed his wrists and he writhed, pulling back from the grip that was pulling his fists away from where they’d been hitting his skull, over and over, trying to just get his stupid brain to work. Come back to the present, ground yourself, do SOMETHING!

And then something was in his hands. 

His eyes peeled open (when had he shut them?) and he saw the dark blue stress ball, almost crushed between his fingers. The hands were gone from his wrist, and he took a deep breath, relaxing his hand and watching the slime filled toy slowly return to its natural shape. It was just like one from his drawer, the first stim toy he’d ever gotten. Familiarity. He kneaded it under his fingers, enjoying the comforting texture, the color soothing to his sensitive eyes. Bit by bit he felt himself relax, still holding the toy inches from his face between stiff hands, letting his legs unfurl. Without thinking, he raised a shaking hand to his chin and did the sign for ‘water’, and immediately regretted it. It was just such a habit around his parents, the only other people who had seen him break down to this extent, how could he be so-

He flinched as a water bottle was pressed into his raised hand, the lid already taken off. The water was so good, settling his senses and grounding him, like he’d been in hyperfocus before and it was dulled now. He gave the stress ball another squeeze, captivated by the way the slime moved, not even flinching as someone snapped in front of him.

Looking up for the first time, his first instinct was to crawl into a hole and die. Logan was sitting in front of him, slowly putting the cap back on his water bottle before handing it back to Patton, who was standing just behind him. Roman and Virgil had begun packing the chairs and bags agonizingly slowly and quietly. Impressive; they were almost done and he hadn’t noticed until now. He turned to his left and his heart completely shattered. Remus was sitting statue still, a few feet away, with a look of pure fear in his eyes. He sat on the edge of his knees, like he wanted to pounce forward and hug him but was holding himself back. He appreciated that. 

Logan snapped again and Janus turned back.

‘Better?’ He signed slowly. 

‘You know sign?’ Janus responded weakly, confused. 

‘Patton too. I go nonverbal as well. Are you okay?’

The younger nodded, returning his hands to the stim toy on his lap. ‘Yours?’

‘Yes.’

“Is he okay?” Remus whispered suddenly, drawing their attention. He looked so scared, like anything could break Janus and he was scared he would cause it. Oh. Did he think he caused this?

‘Not his fault.’

Logan looked between the two, a look of confusion settling in his face. “What?”

‘Not. His. Fault.’ He signed sharply, a frustrated hum emitting from the back of his throat. ‘Not his fault!’

“Remus, he’s saying it’s not your fault. What does that mean?”

“I- I took his hand, and then this happened…” Remus started, leaning back onto his feet ashamedly, “If that wasn’t the cause, what was?” 

‘Sand.’

Logan’s eyes filled with understanding, and he responded, ‘Sand?’ as if to double check that he got the right sign. Janus nodded again, slightly thankful for the mute state he was in. He wouldn’t be able to explain this as well as Logan would. 

“If I’m understanding right, then my first assumptions were correct. Janus, did you just experience a sensory overload?”

Janus could only nod, meeting his eyes shakily. This is the moment. Now is his segway. If Logan wasn’t already suspicious, he surely was now. And he’d rather not have to explain, or come up with some half assed excuse if he was confronted later on why sinking his foot into sand had made him break. 

 ‘I’m autistic.’ He fingerspelled it, not knowing what the sign was, or if there even was one. There was a beat of silence, the twins and Virgil exchanging puzzled looks, and Janus couldn’t even bear to look at the two people who would have understood. All his fears came rushing back. Would they think he was lying, or seeking attention, or or or-

“Oh, sweetie,” Patton crooned, sitting cross legged beside Logan, “We thought maybe… well, the possibility came up in conversation before. Lo was the one who brought it up.”

“Yes. Though our experiences differ, you seemed to exhibit symptoms that are common to the ASD spectrum. I thought it feasible, but did not wish to offend or frighten you by mentioning it.”

“We thought that if you were autistic, it would be yours to tell us,” Patton smiled softly. 

“Wait,” Remus interrupted, “Janus, you have autism?”

Janus’ nervous glance up must have been enough to clue the rest of the group in, because Roman sighed and ducked his head into Virgil’s shoulder while Logan messily signed something which roughly translated to ‘how dense can someone be’. Jan couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not, but he cracked a smile anyways.

“Shit. Dude, I’m so sorry,” Roman murmured into Virgil’s shirt, “All the times I made fun of you for not joining us or anything, that was way out of line. I truly apologize.”

The youngest gave him the worldwide gesture for ‘it’s okay’; not exactly ASL, but it got his point across. Everything was packed up now, and Janus realized the implications.

‘Home?’ He asked Logan, eyebrows scrunched together.

‘Yes. You need to rest.’ He was right, he was exhausted. Getting to his feet along with Patton and Logan, he reached down to grab his towel, only for it to be promptly swooped up by Roman.

“I… I got it. Don’t worry about it. Okay?”

As soon as Roman turned his back, Janus couldn’t help his heavy sigh. This was another reason he had refrained from telling anyone. He didn’t want to be seen as a burden, or worse, a child. He didn’t need help with menial tasks like grabbing a towel. Virgil and him lifted all the belongings again, with less complaining this time, and began the short trek to the truck.

‘He’s not babying you,’ Logan signed, as if reading his mind, ‘He’s just guilty. If you want my advice, get as much out of it as you can.’

“Logan!” Patton chastised, failing miserably at hiding a smirk.                            

“Guys?” Remus’ uncharacteristically timid voice prompted them to turn back, “Could I talk to Janus for a sec?”

“You understand he is unable to speak at the moment, correct?” Logan raised an eyebrow, probably coming off more harsh than he meant to. 

“I know. Just… please?”

The other two shared a knowing look that Janus didn’t understand, before Logan turned to Janus. “Is that okay?”

The youngest nodded, watching over his shoulder as the lovebirds joined hands, leaving him and Remus alone. When he met his eyes again, he was standing much closer, eyes searching nervously.

“Maybe this will actually be easier since you can’t talk,” he laughed, before his face fell dramatically, “Fuck, that’s not what I meant. I’m such an idiot, I didn’t mean-”

Janus held up a hand quickly, as if to say ‘it’s fine, settle down’, holding back a snicker. He’d understand if someone was upset by the comment, but he’d learn to take Remus’ jokes lightly. He never meant to actually offend, sometimes he just… blurted without intending to. He rolled his finger in a ‘keep going’ motion.

“Shit. Okay,” He’d never seen Remus blush, or stumble over his words before. Not like this, at least, “Now, don’t feel obligated to say you feel the same or anything, okay? This is just, my feelings, and mine alone,” A deep breath, “I like you, Snakey. I like you a lot. More than… more than a friend.”

Oh.

Oh.

Janus was ninety percent sure he died right then and there. But Remus kept going, tripping over his words in a way that was so unlike him, and yet so perfect.

“I have for a while. I never said anything because I thought, maybe you disliked me? After today though, I think… well, maybe I was misinterpreting those signals. Like I misinterpreted today. That you didn’t want to be around me, no matter how hard I tried.”

Okay, Janus took it back. He wanted to be able to talk now, but his voice came out as another low hum, and he slapped his hand over his mouth, embarrassed. Remus pressed on, unfazed. 

“Snakey, I swear to you, that you having autism doesn’t change those feelings at all. It’s not a bad thing, or a flaw, it’s just you. And everything about you is amazing, and perfect, and this is just another thing I get to learn about you. Any fears you had around telling us, telling me, you don’t need to have them.”

He’d never felt this kind of feeling before. In that second, he knew for a fact that this wasn’t a crush that he had on Remus. That wasn’t possible, because a crush had never made him want to break his social barriers like this. A crush had never made him want to make an exception, to stand on his tip toes and kiss him, even if the thought of a new touch usually caused goosebumps to rise on his arms. Because he felt so safe, so blissfully numb, so comfortable with Remus, that he’d be willing to give it a try.

This wasn’t a crush. This was-

“I love you,” Remus whispered, his statement accompanied by a large shaky breath.

He couldn’t say it back, not right now. Later, he would. For sure. Maybe a hundred times. So he did what he’d never thought possible and took that step forward, breaking his bubble that he’d always thought to be unbreakable. 

It’s okay. You’re okay. This is okay. 

For once, he actually believed it.

Janus reached a hand up, slowly, and rested it on Remus’ face. It wasn’t light, he couldn’t do half touches. It was solid, warm, real. Not a tickling touch that made him twitch, or a brush by that stole the very breath from his lungs. The positive response affirmed his will power, and he leaned up onto his tip toes. Remus looked absolutely stunned, but he didn’t pull away, he couldn’t if he tried. His breath caught in his throat as the elder glanced down, an unmistakable look to his lips.

Had Remus always had those green flecks in his eyes?

And he kissed him. Janus surged forward, pressing their lips together harsher than he’s intended, pulling a small gasp out of Remus. There was a whoop from the vague direction of where they’d parked, followed by a loud smack, and Janus couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

Remus’ hands were clasped at his chest, unmoving, probably afraid that if he touched Janus wrong, this would all be over. He’d have to explain half touches later. For now, he took one of his hands in his free one and guided it around, pushing it into the small of his back until Remus got the message to keep that pressure. He let out a small sigh through his nose, an action that sent a new round of butterflies exploding in the younger’s stomach.

This is okay. 

This is all going to be okay.

[aliasimagines]

Helloo could if you’re not busy can I request batboys with a batsis who has a full head of white hair. Then one day she finally opens up about it, that she was a lab rat for the Al Ghouls who would kill her and place her in the Lazarus pit over and over again. How would they react?? Bonus if Bruce is added to the mix. I want to feel pain :))

World cont: 1544

Warnings: mention of death (reader's death🤷🏻‍♀️), saaadnessss

A/N:Hello, sorry it took a bit longer for me to write this one. Hope you like it anyway!

It was one of those rare occasions when Dick managed to get most of you to the manor. It was a ’family slumber party’ as he called it. You watch all kinds of movies, play board games, sleep on the couch or in pillow forts, and of course..there is no patrolling for that night.

You liked these nights. You found it comforting to be around family and even if there were minot fights, it was a great time.

You rushed uo the stairs to the manors door witg your bag hanging loosely on your shoulder. You went to grab the handle but the door opened before you could so anything.

„Alfred! Hi!” you jumped inside, quickly hugging him.

„Welcome Miss Y/N!”

„It smells delicious in here! What are you making?”

„Oh I’m afraid I can’t take all the credit for it as Master Jason is helping me in the kitchen. We are making vegetarian lasagne as Master Damian requested it. Would you like to join us?”

You smiled and nodded.

„Yes, I’ll be there in a minute, I’m just putting down my bag. Is Dick here, yet?”

„Oh yes. Master Dick is in the living room. I assume he ia still lecturing your younger brothers.”

Yiu chuckled, Tim and Damian were probably fighting again. That sounds like them. Hah. You went to greet them in the living room with a smile but than you heard them shouting. Ah, yes, definitely fighting.

„ I told you Drake! It is my turn on choosing activities for tonight. And we are playing monopoly.”

„And I have told you, demon, that it is my turn and we are playing scotland yard!” Tim noticed you walking slowly towards them and turned to you in a flash. „Y/N! Tell them it is my turn!”

„Oh no! You’re so not dragging me into this.” you said with raised hands. Instead yiu walked over to the oldest brother and hugged him. „Hi Dickie”

„Hi, little wing.”he hugged you back before shouting” I have a solution! I will choose the game so there won’t be any issue. „

„Wow you started a war. „ you slowly backed away as you saw both Damian and Tim raise a few pillows.” It was nice knowing you Tim, Dick. Go get them Dami!”

And with that you were on your way to the kitchen. After putting on an apron and greeting Jason you helped him and Alfred with the food. You also made cookies and some other snacks. Once everything was done, or in the oven Jason and you decided to look of the others haven’t killed each other. Entering the living room you saw all three of them sitting on the couch, Dick sitting between Tim and Damian. Dick was flipping through the channels when he saw you.

„Is the food ready??”

„Nah, but it will be shortly.” Jason siad while getting comfy in an armchair. He gestured to the bigger, black leather armchair.

„The old man?”

„Still working in the cave.” said Tim slightly annoyed. „But he should be here soon”

„That’s what he said an hour ago... Whatever. Are we gonna play or what?”

„Yes! Finally! Thanks Jaybird! Uhm... Let’s get started with some slumber plarty games, shall we?”

You groaned, glaring at both Jason and Dick.

„Yeah, thanks Jaybird.” he only flashed you a smirk.

„Let’s play truth or dare!”

„Dick, I already told you, it’s not fun to play these games with your siblings.” you said rolling your eye. Tim nodded in agreement, Damian still stared at the tv with disgust written all over his face.

„Okay I’ll start!” said Dick, practically beaming with excitement.

„I dare you to shut up?” asked Tim hopefully. Dick raised his shoulders in a „What can I do?” way and covered his mouth but gestured at Damian that now it’s his turn ask Tim. Never have you seen any other 13 year old glaring like that.

„Sure, Drake why are you such a moron?”

„Geez, no. You’re not starting thia again. Damian ask me a question instead, please.”

„Tt.” he pushed his tongue against his teeth before turning his attention from Tim, to you.”Fine. I’ve been meaning to ask. Why the white hair? I mean you had it for... What? A year now? I stil don’t get it.”

To say that you weren’t expecting that was an understatement. Your thoughts traveled back to the reasons why your hair looked like it did. Your head was filled with your own screams, images of torture and than everything going green. You felt cold and you shivered all of the sudden.

„Oh, she obviously dyed it this way so she would match my little streak here. Because I’m her favorite brother.” Jason smiled and looked at you. But his smile quickly disappeared as he saw how pale you were. You sank down on the chair which you were standing next to.

„I.. I didn’t dye it.” you said barley louder then a whisper. Jay raised an eyebrow at you.

„Than why is it white, sis?” looking around you saw that all your brothers were starting at you now with more and more concern on their faces.

„I.. Whatever. It’s not important. Let’s just move on with the game and-„

„Y/N.” it waa Dick. His voice gentle but full of worry.

„I... My hair is white...because of the..”you swallowed trying not to break down. You never told them. Not because you didn’t trust them with it or anything but because you didn’t want them to be concerned or get some ideas about having revenge. Besides... Dying several times was not that easy to talk about. „because of the lazarus pit.”

Their shocked expressions ment you have some explaining to do.

„Remember that secret mission I went on a year ago? The one that lasted for a few months? Well...there were no mission. I wanted to get out of town for a few days, maybe a week with my friends but I never actually got to my friend’s weekend house because I was kidnapped. They kept me in the dark, I was tortured and eventually... I died. I remember how cold it was, how dark and lonely... And than everything was green. I was floating, then drowning. I felt my eyes burning as well as my throat. I felt my whole body burning in fact. And... „ you felt someone grasping your hand but you just guessed it was Jason because your vision became blurry from the tears that were threatening to fall out.” And it wasn’t the last time. I actually lost count after the 16th occasion... It happened over and over again – and I – They used me as a lab rat. Killing me, torturing me and then throwing me into that damn green fluid.” you said a sob escaping your lips.

„ Why haven’t you spoke about this?” it took you a few moments to realize whose voice it was, because the blood rushing in your ear made it much harder. But the voice was coming from behind you, so it wasn’t the boys, they all sat in front of you, besides Jason who sat next to you. It was Bruce. He came up from the cave. Trying to wipe your tears you turned around. You couldn’t read his face, not that it was anything unusual.

„I didn’t think it was necessary. I could handle it on my own.”

„Y/N that’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard. We are a family. You don’t need to handle anything your own. That’s why we are here for you. I... I know it’s not- We are not a normal family. I know. And I sorry but tge fact that we dress in armored suits from night to night doesn’t mean we can’t talk to each other. Even if it seems the opposite I will always have time for all of you.” he pulled you up gently into a hug. You cried, but you weren’t the only one. You felt a tear dropping on your head, meaning Bruce was crying too. You soon felt all the others join in for the hug.

„ I’m sorry I didn’t tell you... „you heard yourself saying after a good few minutes.” I love you all so much. And... Thank you dad. „

Bruce only noded, not being able to say anything but it was fine. It was a comfortable silence. You felt loved. You all looked up aa Damain got up.

„ Where are going?” asked Tim.

„To get revenge.”

„No.” Jason shook his head. He looked like a beaten puppy. He knew what you were going through and how hard it was to say those things out loud.

„You sure not saying that this should go unnoticed?”

„No. I agree with you. But not now, Damian. She needs us. You included. Don’t leave now.” Damian was taking back from his brothers calm tone but came back down. You were let go from the embrace and saw your father weakly smiling at Jason.

„Can we... Sit down and have the rest of the family night, please?”

Everyone sat back down, somehow all of you managed to fit on the couch, and wrapped yourself in comfortable blankets and cuddled for the rest of the night.

[yuusa]

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝟏𝟎

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐𝟎𝟕𝟏

𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝟏𝟎:

Your eyes slowly fluttered open as you adjusted to your surroundings. Your heart leaped out of your chest in panic as you quickly felt around for your journal, luckily it had been placed right by your side and you breathed a sigh of relief. You had been sleeping on a futon in a traditional home, you certainly didn’t remember anything after the race. You clutched onto your head to see a bandage wrapped around it and your knees have also been taken care of. You thought you didn’t sustain any head injuries though, perhaps you just overlooked it when you tripped.

The sliding door opened to reveal Akito and a maid behind him, she was holding a clean batch of clothes and avoiding eye contact with you. Akito came by your side and brushed away some of the strands of hair from your face. He was wearing a much plainer set of clothes, but it was still the same theme, all black. 

“Are you feeling alright? You fainted earlier.” He asked, caressing your hair slowly as you looked up at him. 

“O-Oh, yes. I’m feeling much better, thank you.” You noticed the lack of windows within this room, it was odd interior design. 

“Sorry that you had to stay here, we didn’t know where you lived so the best thing to do was take you to my house. We called in your absence for you at school, it’s already noon.” 

You have been sleeping for that long? 

“A-Ah, sorry. I think I overstayed my welcome then, I’m sorry for troubling you Akito-san.” As you were going to slip out of the futon, he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. 

“It’s okay, I don’t mind you being here.” He smiled at you.

“O-Oh. . . Thank you, Akito-san. . . B-But you really didn’t have to take care of me. I-is there anything I can do for you?” You asked. 

There seemed to be a hidden glint in his eyes as his smile grew, “yeah, let’s go on a date.” 

A date?!

Your cheeks burst into a bright shade as you turned away from him, feeling the heat rush towards your face. He was really blunt, it was a bit embarrassing. Unknown to you, "she” was staring at the way your (e/c) eyes flickered across the room when you were shy. Akito was noting every single one of your movements until you nodded in response to his request. 

“That’s good, I brought a pair of clothes for you to wear. You can keep them after the date.” He stood up and slid the door closed, “I’ll be waiting for you outside when you finish.” 

You turned to the maid who was tasked with changing you as she guided your movements. You wondered if Akito came from a wealthy family, you should ask him for his last name when the date is over. 

“Look Haa-san! Chocolates from me!” Shigure held up a blue polka dot bag, filled with the chocolates Tohru bought. 

Hatori’s hands were tucked in his pockets, but he still slammed the door shut in front of his face. Shigure cried comedic tears at his rejection but slid the door open slightly, “I’m sorry, they’re from Tohru-kun.”

“Idiot.” 

Shigure invited himself into Hatori’s office and sat down on one of the empty chairs near him. His place was a bit messy, with books scattered across the desk with various stacks of paper surrounding him.

“She’s a conscientious girl.” 

“That’s an understatement. There’s more for Momicchi and Haa-kun too.” Shigure replied, referring to the bag of chocolates.

 “She evidently planned on bringing them here yourself, but I offered to do it! Because guess what? She, Yuki-kun, Kyo-kun, and Kagura are all on a double date today!"

Shigure wrapped his arms around his chest, “I thought Yuki-kun would bring over (Y/n)-kun, but he said she was absent today at school.” 

“Shigure.” Hatori pressed his lips together before he spun in his chair to face Shigure, his eyes becoming deathly serious at the mention of your name. “I have some news for you, regarding that girl, (L/n).”

“What is it Haa-san?” 

“Akito called me over today to treat her at the Sohma Estate, they are going on a date today.” Shigure’s eyes widened in shock, the tension in the air growing as he stared at him speechless. 

You and Akito? Together? Did she call in Hatori to take care of you?

“You can’t be serious, she’s with Akito right now?!” 

“When it comes to Akito, I am afraid it’s true.” 

Hatori turned to the side, trying to make the news not as heavy to Shigure, “Akito has taken in interest in her.” 

Crap, Shigure thought. He gripped onto his hair as he looked down at the floor. This was an unexpected part of Akito. Not once has she taken an interest in anyone outside of the Sohma family, aside from Tohru where the bet has been set in place. When exactly did you two meet? What happened? Did Akito call in sick for you? 

What was she planning?

“I. . . Yuki-kun is going to be devastated,” Shigure mumbled, unable to form any other words to convey his shock. 

“I’m sorry. . . Akito wants to keep this a secret though.��

“Let’s watch this movie.” Akito pointed at the Mogeta advertisement. 

You sweatdropped at the sight of the poster. You never really watched television or any sort of movie as a kid, so you didn’t really know what exactly you were looking at. But based on how Akito’s eyes seemed to sparkle at the sight of the movie being shown, you didn’t really have many options to choose from to make him happy. 

“Do you like the main character, Akito-san?” You asked.

“I do, I was going to buy one of the stuffed animals during their first showing, but I had gotten sick that day.” He responded before grasping onto your hand, “let’s go, we might lose each other in this crowd.” 

He guided you towards the inside of the theatre, the darkness swallowing you both up as he chose the seats for you. 

From the outside, Yuki and the others were standing, watching Kagura interact with Kyo on their “double date”. He brushed part of his hair back, his mind still concerned about your well being. 

Tohru told him that you went home early by yourself, but last time he checked they were at the other side of town, there would be no way you had gotten home so quickly with your knee. It was made even worse when you hadn’t arrived to school the next day, when he asked the teacher about it, she said your mother called in sick for you.

That’s odd.

He knew you lived alone. 

None of this was adding up. He was going to try to visit your house tomorrow to see if you would be home. From the corner of his eye, he could see your figure in a black sweater and pants, your hand intertwined with someone else he found to be very familiar. His eyes widened at the sight of the short-haired friend of your’s and he immediately began running past Kyo and Kagura to the theater, but the time he got there it was already too dark for him to see you. Tohru ran by his side, concern washed over her face.

“Sohma-kun, is something wrong?” She asked.

He pulled on part of his hair as he looked down, feeling disappointed and utterly lost. “No. I’m fine.” He sighed before making his way inside to find their seats. Tohru frowned in response but chose not to speak about it. 

You would have never thought that Yuki would be sitting only a few seats ahead of you. You were in the far back of the theater where you had an overhead view of the crowd. As you were going to comment about your seating arrangement, Akito had already turned to you.

“Is something wrong?” He asked.

You shook your head, “n-no, I just thought I saw a friend here.” 

“Oh? I see.” He bluntly replied, sounding a bit uninterested in your friends. 

You pressed your lips together in a straight line as you stared down at the grey hair in the theater. What was he doing here? You never really took Yuki as someone who would watch a movie like Mogeta but considering the fact that you were here watching it as well meant that perhaps there was more to it. On closer inspection, he was sitting next to Tohru with Kyo and another girl. 

Were they on a double date?

You wondered if he and Tohru were really that close. 

But. . . It seems as if he is having a nice time opening up to others because of Tohru now. It was a bit obvious the sudden change in the aura when the first time you saw him in middle school and now. It must be nice to feel less lonely. Your eyes narrowed in disappointment and sadness, your stomach-churning at your own thoughts.

You felt a bit jealous.

Jealous that he was able to open up so easily because he has people like Tohru in his life.

You said that maybe the eagle could save the rat from his burdens, but perhaps you were proven wrong. Perhaps he never needed the eagle. Maybe the eagle was a scapegoat to his own duties of being by God’s side.

You couldn’t tell if this was your doubt speaking for you, but no matter what happens between you and Yuki, there would always be a drift between the two of you. It was one that was being pulled together and ripped apart constantly.

Did you really belong in his life? You chewed on the bottom of your lip as you felt your eyes tear up. Was the friendship you had simply your imagination?

He had a lot of people who could give him the same sense of comfort that you tried to give. He could easily replace you with anyone else in his life, he only needed Tohru to make him happy.

Akito reached out to your cheek, bringing it closer to him as you stared into his eyes in the darkened room, only illuminated by the movie playing in the back. Your mind paused as you melted in his touch, the feeling of fuzziness coming back to you.

“You’re crying.” You pulled yourself away from him in shock, trying to cover your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry.” You apologized, sniffling underneath your hand as you turned away from him.

“Don’t apologize, what’s wrong?”

“I. . .” You choked on a sob, trying to keep quiet in the theater while the movie drowned out the noises of your tears. You didn’t know if you could trust Akito fully, but there was something about the look he gave you which made you feel wanted.

“I don’t belong here.” You muttered.

“I don’t feel like I belong with the people I call friends.” You bit the bottom of your lip, feeling your body tremble as you continued to cry next to Akito. “. . . It’s hard when all of them look so happy without me.”

Akito’s slender fingers reached out to pull your hands away from your face, exposing your teary eyes which gave him shivers down his spine. He caressed your cheek softly, giving you a look of empathy and understanding.

Such beautiful eyes.

“It’s okay. You’re worth a lot to me (L/n)-san, I can be your friend.”

Your eyes widened at his proposal, your heart feeling as if it had been touched by him. He brought you closer to a tight hug, the armrest between the two of you being pushed back as he toyed with your strands of hair. You inhaled the soft scent of his clean clothes as you gripped onto his shirt, your tears slipping down your cheeks and soaking his collarbone.

I could be your only one, Akito thought.

After all. You were a Messenger of God.

You were meant to be by God’s side.

VOLUME ONE COMPLETED.

[yesthefandomfreakblr]

G U Y S I’M ONTO SOMETHING

Ares, when gregor isn’t around, has no one. sure luxa and aurora do their best but he just feels like he can’t/shouldn’t be a burden to them or be selfish by dumping all of his problems on them(this is horribly toxic thinking if you experience this GET. HELP. you are NOT a burden and you DESERVE LOVE.)

but back to the sad fictional bat: Ares just has no one. he finds he’s most comfortable alone, although rather lonely... but well, chased to the outskirts to hunt due to ostracizing from his peers, he runs into Ripred doing the same thing and Ares, while apologizing for trespassing finally just breaks.  The gnawer asks what he’s bawling about and it all just comes tumbling out.

After a good long time of just gushing out all the pent up pressure, Ares shifts uncomfortably and apologizes again. He thanks the older rat for listening and being so kind when Ares had done nothing for him. Ripred cuts him off. “Ares you have been invaluable on every quest you’ve been apart of. and even aside from that, you are a friend. I like you actually, you keep your head on your shoulders and out of those prophecies.” there’s more to it but that’s what I write down. Ares just shakes his head. “you’d be the first to think so.”  “dear bat I doubt that, luxa and her flier quite admire you. the boy loves you to pieces. but of course there’s only so much it can do. especially when they’re around so little.” Ares nods. “you are a good friend, Ripred. thank you.” The gnawer almost smiles. “I sure will be.” and leaves the bat bewildered. but with a mixture of fear and hope. Ripred’s tender moments are rare. being around him often could make everything worse. he’d be even MORE ridiculed for associating with a gnawer, and he could just get a whole new layer of abuse added to his plate. or... or maybe Ripred could be his friend? they understood each other to a degree. both ostracized by their peers and alone, abused and depressed. scraping at the bottom. but Ripred didn’t care what anyone else thought, right? He surely wasn’t pining for affection. but... maybe he was a little lonely too.

Ares returns home with a bit of weight lifted off his chest. he’d finally talked about his problems... and hadn’t been ridiculed. he’d been comforted and validated. what a beautiful feeling.

a week or so later, Ares is training in the arena. alone. he was the only bat without a rider and ajax constantly reminded him about the empty space on his shoulders and in his heart. He knew he was top of his class in strength, speed, and near top on agility. but it was never enough. he was always ‘stupid.’ ‘clumsy’ and ‘arrogant.’ whatever. all the flier’s suddenly stop. a gnawer approaches the entrance. It’s Ripred, as per usual to meet with the council and royal family. everyone is wary and Ares ignores him. ajax goes with his bond to greet their guest but the rat brushes them off like last nights stand.

he looks up. “Ares!” he calls “Ares my swift death on dark wings, my epitome of aerodynamics!” The entire arena stops. all eyes on Ares. he felt himself shrink into his fur and flush with embarrassment and rage. the last thing he needed was more attention. especially for this. was this his way of being a friend? humiliating him? Ares, as professionally as possible, coasts down to see what the old rager could want with him.

Ripred just... talks to him. and coaxes ares to talk back. he almost completely ignores vikus and solavet. he even insults ajax to his face, berating and belittling him until the large red flier visibly cowers. that’s his specialty. he attacks ruthlessly and furiously about his abuse towards Ares. and the smaller fliers inferiority to him. Ares literally begs him to stop. the rat is having too much fun. after his meetings Ripred finds Ares again, and even drags him to dinner in the great hall. Ripred can actually be rather charming and kind. and Ares actually talks tenfold what he normally does, speaking in real sentences. 

months go by and the two keep in touch. Ripred visits the flier’s hunting grounds often, and the Arena as well. Ares visits him too. at first ares tries to avoid him, given that the rat is very loud and boastful about his big buff handsome flier friend. calling him pet names and advertising his infinite endeering qualities to any regalian or flier in earshot. 

but Are can’t help but laugh and smile. it honestly feels kinda good to joke with someone and have them care, have the be proud of him. the abuse over it fades and he starts being recognized as the trusted friend of the most dangerous creature in the underland. Ares only gets stronger as he occasionally carries his new friend around and they even did a training session together. no one could deny his impossible strength. Ripred won’t shut up about his incredibly studly bat babe and Ares just gets used to it. he talks more, he laughs more he moves in with ripred’s gang and even has a group of bat friends. but he will always spend his nights in Ripred’s den and hunt with his pack. 

He learns to speak gnawer and knows the deadlands like no bat ever has. Ares befriends all 32 of the gnawers in their possey and they all share a slightly sadistic sense of humor. they laugh and joke together and protect eachother. He heals emotionally and learns to let peoples words roll off his shoulders in a healthy way. and there will always be bad people who are cruel to him but with Ripred’s protection and influence, it becomes less and less. 

Living with the pack Ares gets to know pearlpelt. and they have more in common than they thought. loneliness, abuse, and deep rooted mistrust. Ares becomes a mediator between Ripred and the pup. Ripred lets it happen. as long as Ares helps babysit. Ares adopts pearlpelt full time but forces Ripred to help. there’s arguing there’s fighting but for the pup and future of the underland. and for their unspoken bond. they make it work. With Ares help a huge load is taken off of Ripred and he pushes himself to be more patient and kind.

they train together and talk together and ares even sleeps with the pup to help comfort him. He listens to his trauma. he teaches him rhymes and all about the humans and fliers. the good and the bad. he makes sure pearlpelt won’t blame them for what happened to him. he gets it into his head that his white coat and massive size are a mere coincidence of the double Y chromosome and albanism. Prophecies are dumb. he gets there before twirltongue and helps him see through her deception. Ares, in trying to train the pup to survive, is endlessely patient and affectionate. Pearlpelt will never go a day without someone saying ‘I love you’ or giving him a hug. because he knows what it does to your head. Ripred and Ares actually co-parent the bane. it doesn’t get between them. Ripred and Ares still fly talk, and laugh together. Pearlpelt quickly becomes too big for Ares to carry, but pearlpelt works harder than ever so he can carry his big black friend. Ares brings him human food from Regalia (as well as ripred, can’t forget his bestie) And the bane grows up a lot more stable and a lot more open minded and informed. Pearlpelt will never accept the humans. but he will not fight ares. he even meets luxa. they talk. they hear eachother’s pasts. they feel an understanding. they argue but come to an agreement.  Ripred is always there to jeer and coo over him and Ares does it back. Ares and Ripred still visit regalia once a month for dinner and they bring pearlpelt with them. only after solavet dies of ‘mysterious causes’ all species start to form bonds and a multi city city is built. the dam is rebuilt and the garden of hesperdes is restored. pearlpelt matures and mellows out into the perfect hybrid of his two adopted dads. Aes goes from glossy black to silver and finds it difficult to fly. pearlpelt carries him wherever he wants and often to his own den to play with the heirs to the gnawer throne. ripred a lighter shade, is always with him. you’d thin they were bonded or married by how they smiled and talked or just sat in silence together. they are both less afraid and less lonely.

everything is a little more alright...

[heyitsani]

Mail Order Bride AU Outtake

You know what?  I’ve had an insane week and it’s FINALLY calmed down after tonight.  So to celebrate, how about an outtake from one of my JD Week stories?  This was initially going to be the opening scene of the mail order bride!Jason fic, but I scrapped it for jumping further into the fic instead.  So enjoy this scene with Roy and Jason and a little background on how Jay ends up heading to California to marry Dick. 

Completely unedited because it’s an outtake for crying out loud.  Why should I edit it?  Hahaha.  But enjoy it none the less.

“How are you feeling?” Roy asked as he sat on the edge of the small cot he had pulled out for Jason to rest on after helping drag him into the house in the middle of the night.  “You’re lucky I found you when I did, the frost set in last night.”  Jason just blinked up at the man, squinting as the candlelight irritated his headache further.

“Wha-”  He tried to ask, cutting himself off when his voice broke and he started coughing.  He felt more than heard or saw Roy sigh before the older man’s hand started rubbing his back to help him through the fit.

“I found you on my way home. Was it your old man again?”  He asked once Jason was able to stop coughing. The question caused him to cringe. Everyone in town knew his father was a cruel man and even worse when he was drunk.  None of them had ever tried to help Jason outside of Roy, but Jason had never blamed them.  You just didn’t get involved in family drama.  It wasn’t proper.  And the mindset of the Man of the house being the final authority was not one he agreed with, but not many felt the same way that he did.

And it also wasn’t proper for a nineteen-year-old son who was unmarried to leave the house and live on his own.  So, he was stuck until he found some poor fool to accept his hand or his father killed him.

“Jay?”  

With a heavy sigh, Jason sat up and did his best to ignore the throbbing in his head.  “Do I really need to answer that?”  Roy heaved a sigh of his own looked down at him with a contemplative expression.  “What?”

“I have been thinking of a solution for you for the past couple of months.  But I am not sure you will be willing,” Roy admitted, standing and walking into the kitchen a few feet away from where Jason’s cot had been placed.  “You know my friend Dick moved out West with his adoptive father a few years ago.” Jason nodded, remembering Roy telling him about it when they had met a few months after the man had left.  “He has been writing me recently about how lonely he is and how he is considering placing an ad out here for a mail order spouse.”

Jason immediately knew where this was going and scowled.  “You are having a go at me.”

“I am certainly not.”

“You have spent years describing this man as a god among men.  That his beauty is unnatural, and you aren’t completely certain that he isn’t some sort of supernatural creature.”  Roy just stared at him, unamused.  “The street rat child of a drunk is not the kind of spouse a man like Dick Grayson deserves.”

And though Jason trusted Roy with his life, he still flinched when Roy stalked back over to the cot he still sat on and watched him warily.  But if Roy saw the reaction, he didn’t acknowledge it or change course. “You listen to me Jason Peter Todd,” he said, grabbing Jason’s chin firmly but not to hurt.  “If I ever hear you speak about yourself in that manner again, I will wash your mouth out with soap the same as I would with Lian.  Do you understand?”  Giving a slight nod, all that Roy’s grip really allowed of him, the man released his chin and sighed as he sat back down on the edge of the bed. “Look, you can’t stay in New York. There is nothing but death in this city for you.”

“But there isn’t in San Francisco?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Roy gave him a wry smile.  “At the very least, there’s freedom.”  But Jason just narrowed his eyes at the other man and thought about what freedom would actually mean for him.  “You are already aware that I think Dick is a good man and a beautiful one at that, but I also know you are a good man as well.  And I think that you could be just what he needs, and he certainly has the means to get you the freedom you deserve.”

“If he’s as good as you say, why has he not found himself a spouse yet?”

Roy shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you,” he said as he stood up again and went back to the kitchen.  Instead of paying attention to whatever the man was doing, he thought about the possibility that Roy had presented him with.  He trusted Roy’s judgement, but there was always his father’s voice whispering in his head that he would never been good enough for anyone. That no one would want someone like him in their lives.  That no one could love a street rat like him.

But Roy had so much faith that he could be so much more.  It was now just a matter of whether or not he could have that same faith in himself.  Could he pick up his whole life and just go somewhere no one knew of him?  Could he accept the chance to rebuild himself and take advantage of a new beginning?

“I would need some time to gather the funds to head West.”

He looked over to find Roy looking his way with raised eyebrows.

“I could probably scrap up enough in two weeks.”

But now Roy was laughing, and Jason was confused.  Had it actually been a joke, like he had first assumed?  “I’m sorry,” Roy chuckled, shaking his head.  “Just…Dick has already wired me money to give to whoever he ends up inviting to stay with him.  And trust me, it is more than enough to get you there and in a new wardrobe.” Which meant the man had money.

“What is his employment again?”

“Law,” Roy sighed. “He is the Sherriff of San Francisco. Could charm the pants off a bandit if he wanted to.”

Well, fuck.

“I’ll send him a telegraph once the post opens this morning.  While I do that, you gather what belongings you want to bring with you while Willis is gone to work for the day.”  Nodding, Jason mentally went over the few items that actually meant anything to him.  “And do not leave that bastard a letter saying you’ve gone.  Just let him wonder about it for the rest of his sorry life. He doesn’t deserve to know.”

[thatsassyhufflepuff]

Stronger Than Blood Chapter 3: Felicity

Summary: Hufflepuff witch Felicity Zabini struggles to find normalcy as she enters into her 6th year at Hogwarts, reeling from her father’s sudden death and her mother’s quick remarriage into the Zabini family. If only she had known that discovering Draco Malfoy falling apart in the bathroom would spiral into so much more.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: none

Ao3

A/N: This is an alternate canon, I've messed around with the timeline of events!

I stormed into the Hufflepuff common room, my thoughts somewhat scrambled. Who in the world did he think he was, manhandling me like that? I had to admit, I’d been scared that he was going to hurt me when he grabbed me so violently. Thank God Blaise had shown up…

“Felicity?” The gentle voice of my best friend, Hannah Abbott, pulled me out of my thoughts. I blinked, looking down at the shorter girl. “Are you okay?” Her blue eyes were wide with concern. I sighed.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I mumbled, massaging my temples as I walked to my room, shedding my outer Hufflepuff robes and tossing them on the bed. Hannah followed me, arching a thin blonde eyebrow. I glared at her.

“What?”

“Spill.”

“There’s nothing—“

“Felicity Grace Zabini!” Hannah made a face then. “It’s still weird calling you that. But I know something’s wrong. I’m your best friend, Fee, so tell me what it is!”

I rolled my eyes, plopping onto my bed. Unfortunately for me at the time, we shared a room, so she just sat down on her bed and folded her arms, waiting. “It’s just…” I started. “On the way in, Blaise and I had an unfortunate run-in with Malfoy, and--”

“Malfoy?” Hannah interrupted, paling, and I stared at her.

“Yeah. What--why are you looking at me like that?”

Hannah rose from her bed, crossing the room and sitting next to me on my bed. Her kind blue eyes were troubled. “I suppose you didn’t hear, then.” She said gravely. I shook my head, wondering what on Earth she was talking about. “He...well, Katie Bell...he’d given her some sort of necklace, and it cursed her. Madam Pomfrey said she was going to be fine, and she isn’t even in the Hospital Wing anymore, but Draco…” She sighed. “Well, I’m sure you can figure out how she got it.”

My eyes widened. Sure, Malfoy was an arrogant jerk, but to be capable of such violence? What reason would he have for that? I knew he wasn’t a fan of Gryffindors, but still...something didn’t add up. He was a bully, but I had a hard time believing he was the type of person to try to kill someone. I blinked a few times. “Wow,” I muttered, still trying to make sense of it in my brain. Hannah nodded wordlessly, then reached over and gave me a big hug, one I returned, squeezing her gently. I’d missed my best friend over the summer. She pulled back, giving me a smile and shoving me playfully.

“My summer was great, thanks for asking.”

I snorted and caught up with my best friend until it was time to go to sleep, easing back into the familiarity of our friendship and of Hogwarts. At the back of my mind, though, what Draco Malfoy did continued to baffle me.

***

The next morning at breakfast, I noticed that Katie Bell was back. My eyes brightened. So she was okay, that was good. She looked very weak, but at least she was alive. I made my way over to her; Harry Potter had beaten me there, it seemed. I didn’t know him too well, but he and Hannah were acquaintances, and he was nice enough.

I nodded a hello to Harry before looking at Katie, giving her a sweet smile. “Katie, glad to see that you’re okay!” The Gryffindor gave me a small smile in return, opening her mouth to speak, when suddenly, Harry tensed beside us, staring at a point past our heads. I turned and followed his gaze. Draco Malfoy stood there, his grey eyes wide as he stared at Katie. For once, his features were unguarded, his face pale as he took in her sickly state. A flash of remorse flickered through his eyes, followed by panic, before the Slytherin turned around and fled out of the Great Hall. Harry started after him, his fists clenched, but I grabbed his arm.

“Harry,” I chewed on my lip, tugging him by his sleeve. He shot me an exasperated look but didn’t try to break out of my grasp.

“Felicity, he--”

“I know,” I cut him off, giving him a stern look. “But running after him and confronting him when you’re angry won’t help anything. Let me...I’ll go see what he’s up to, okay? Stay here.” I dropped Harry’s arm and ran after Malfoy, wondering what in the world had gotten into me.

I ran somewhat blindly until I saw a streak of white-blonde hair around the corner, and I forced myself to speed up, not wanting to lose him. When Malfoy entered the boy’s bathroom, however, it gave me pause. I stood awkwardly at the doorway, hiding behind it so Malfoy wouldn’t see me. As I watched, he took off his outer vest, turning on the water in the bathroom sink, splashing his face, then looked at his reflection in the mirror. Despite myself, my heart clenched at the look on his face. He looked exhausted, visible bags under his eyes even from where I was standing. He looked at himself bitterly, as if he hated his reflection. His chest heaved, and he was shaking.

Then, Draco Malfoy braced his hands on either side of the sink, bowed his head, and began to weep. He wept like a trapped, lonely soul, with heart wrenching, broken sobs that shook his shoulders, making him gasp for air. The fist closed around my heart flexed and squeezed even more. My Hufflepuff instincts took over, then. I couldn’t just stand there and watch someone sob, no matter who they were.

“Malfoy?” I ventured hesitantly, moving into the doorway. He whipped around, tears streaming down his face, and before I could even register the movement, he was in front of me, his wand pointed shakily at my throat.

“How long have you been standing there, mutt?” Malfoy growled. Or, at least, he tried to. It was hard for anyone to sound menacing when tears were streaming down their cheeks. I held up my hands, careful not to move, what with his wand at my throat.

“Long enough,” I whispered, hoping to Merlin that he wouldn’t hex me right then and there. His grip tightened on his wand, and he glared at me through his tears.

“Come to gloat, eh, Zabini? Now that you’ve seen a Malfoy at his worst? Going to tell the world that I have a heart after all?” He dug his wand closer into my throat, gaining anger from his words.

“No!” I yelped when Malfoy’s hand slapped over my mouth, as I’d yelled that a bit louder than I’d meant to. “No,” I murmured when he dropped his hand, wiping it on his pants. “No, I just...Harry looked like he was going to kill you, so I held him back because I figured a fight was the last thing anyone needed, and...why are you looking at me like that?” But he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking over my shoulder. I turned, following his gaze, and my heart stopped.

Because before us stood Albus Dumbledore, who, by the angry look on his face, had seen Malfoy’s wand at my throat and heard the last bit of our argument. “Oh, bloody hell.” I mumbled as the headmaster gestured for us to follow him.

***

“Sit down Mr. Malfoy, Miss Zabini.” Dumbledore’s tone left no room for argument, so Malfoy and I sat in the two chairs in front of his desk. By now, Malfoy’s tears had dried, but one only had to take a close look at him to know that he’d been crying. Dumbledore certainly noticed, but was apparently kind enough not to say anything about it.

Once we were seated, Professor Dumbledore clasped his hands together, studying us. “Care to explain why Mr. Malfoy’s wand was aimed at your throat, Miss Zabini?” he asked after a moment, leaning back. I glanced at Malfoy, who looked even paler than usual. His grey gaze alternated between Dumbledore and I, filled with dread, as if he knew something bad was about to happen. An hour ago, I wouldn’t have given a second thought to ratting Malfoy out. God knows he made my life miserable enough. But then I remembered the way he’d looked in the bathroom. Haunted. Desperate. Exhausted. Broken. I didn’t have the heart to get him in trouble, not after that.

“It--it was my fault, sir.” I said after a moment, and I saw Malfoy’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline for a millisecond. “I, ah...well, since it’s been a few months since I’ve lived here, I got turned around, thought that that particular bathroom was the girls bathroom. Happens every year, only lasts for a few days as I readjust. Anyways, Mal-Draco just happened to be walking out of the bathroom, and he bumped into me. We all have the instincts to pull out our wands to defend ourselves nowadays,” I shrugged. “Just in case, y’know...with You-Know-Who running about. That’s all you saw there.”

Dumbledore just stared at me for a few minutes, and I was beginning to feel pretty stupid, but finally, he spoke.

“Hufflepuffs have never been good liars, Miss Zabini.” He told me, his voice firm, but his eyes were kind, as if coaxing me to tell the truth. But I found that I couldn’t. I shook my head stubbornly.

“I--I’m afraid that’s the story I have to stick to, sir.”

The headmaster raised an eyebrow at me. “Why is that, Miss Zabini?”

I shook my head again, fear gnawing at my gut. “I--I can’t tell you.”

For the first time in a few minutes, Dumbledore looked at Malfoy, whose face gave nothing away. He alternated his gaze between us a few times, then sighed.

“Well, Miss Zabini, I do trust that your reasons are noble for keeping something from me.” I sighed with relief, but Dumbledore held up his hand. “However, if you are not willing to tell me the truth, I will need something from you. Both of you,” he added, looking at Malfoy again. Neither Malfoy nor I spoke, so Dumbledore took that as a cue to tell us what he wanted.

“The prejudice I see amongst the students at Hogwarts astounds me,” he began, steepling his fingers together. “ Every student at Hogwarts is a valuable member of our community, no matter their blood status.” Malfoy snorted at this, but one stern look from Dumbledore shut him up. “Which is why, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Zabini will be teaching you about Muggle Studies.”

“What?” Malfoy cried, his eyes widening. At the same time, I laughed, “Me? Tutor MALFOY? Yeah right,”

“Silencio ,” Dumbledore waved his wand at us, and to my outrage, neither of us could speak. This time, both Malfoy and I glared at the headmaster, whose eyes were maddeningly cheerful. “That is an order, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Zabini. You both will benefit from this in the long-run, I assure you. Miss Zabini is second only to Miss Granger in your class, Mr. Malfoy. In fact, the two of you share that honor. If you refuse, there will be consequences. Understood?”

Grudgingly, we both nodded, or maybe that was just so he’d shut up and reverse the silencing charm he’d cast on us. Either way, the headmaster reversed the spell, dismissing us from the room. With one last, parting glare, though I couldn’t help but notice it held less malice than before, Malfoy stalked off to the dungeons. I sniffed with distaste, heading to my own common room. Hannah is going to flip…

Chapter 4

[roguerogerss]

Safe Haven

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Plot: You can’t sleep, Bucky helps.

Warnings: none apart from Bucky being cute.

W.C: 1.5k

(A/N: This is super short, terribly cliche, and probably really bad - I wrote it at two in the morning - but I thought the idea was cute! Like and reblog pls bbys! Feedback is also greatly appreciated!)

————

The light in the kitchen was on, but she had dimmed it to the lowest setting so that she wouldn’t wake anyone else. She hated being awake at night, holed up in her room with the possibility of looking at anything but her four walls looking slim, unless she had the balls to venture out in the dark, lonely hallways of the tower.

Some nights - most nights - she decided that it was best for her to stay in her room. She decided that, not only did she have all that she really needed there, she also really didn’t want to have to make the (at least 5 minute) journey to the communal area of the avengers tower alone.

However, tonight was not most nights. They’d been on a hard mission, one that required her to go back to her roots, back to the Hydra base where they’d given her the powers that gave her the right to join the avengers, back to where she was tortured and treated as a lab rat while scientists took notes of her behaviours and added them to their sick collections of research.

Tonight was one of those nights. The ones where you feel like, even though you’re awake, you’re not really. The ones where you wish that you could just forget about your feelings and go to sleep, and you think that you might be able to, but when you’re laying in bed you can’t get your brain to shut off. Yes, Y/N was having one of those nights.

She’d tried to go to sleep, really, she had, but the memories of metal beds and leather straps and night after night in that god-awful cell kept flooding to mind, and the prospect of taking a walk through the tower no longer seemed fearful, but rather the opposite. Comforting. And so, without much thought because - really - she had no space to put any thought into it, she pulled on a robe and pushed open her door, stepping out into the dark hallway that was illuminated only by the little green lights that indicated where the fire exits were.

She’d meant to take a walk to clear her head, she’d only be gone ten minutes at most, but somehow she now found herself in the kitchen, and it was four in the morning - which was two hours after she’d left her room - and she was watching as the sun rose through the floor-to-ceiling windows that gave her a view of the city.

“What are you doing down here?” The voice was calm, kind, but it broke her from her thoughts and made her jolt slightly in her position, curled in the corner of the sofa with a glass of water in one hand.

It was Bucky. He was standing in the doorway, a crooked smile on his face and a blanket tucked under his arm. She recognised it as being the one that she always left draped over the bottom of her bed, and figured that Bucky had probably woken up and gone to her room, before realising that she wasn’t there. She felt a pang of guilt upon looking at him, hair dishevelled, shirtless and sweatpants thrown lazily on to lay low on his hips, the remnants of sleep still prominent in his eyes and the sullen look that adorned him whenever he’d just woken up.

He hadn’t gone with them on the mission, thank god, and had probably fallen asleep with ease but had been plagued by nightmares. Y/N knew that they woke him up at all hours on most nights, that he’d tap on her door lightly and wake her by crawling into her bed and giving her an apologetic smile. Sometimes he wanted to talk about them, and she never minded when he did, listened patiently and stroked his hair and didn’t flinch if he cried. Other times, he’d simply caress her cheek and let her go back to sleep, or trace patterns on her forearm or back until he fell asleep himself. He went to her to ground himself, to remind himself that he wasn’t with Hydra anymore, that the dreams weren’t real, that he had someone in his corner. She was his support system, and he was hers.

“Watching the sunrise, of course.” She joked. She could feel her eyelids drooping and she set her water down on the coffee table. “Haven’t I told you, it’s a pastime of mine.”

She flicked her bleary eyes from the window, to Bucky, who was now walking towards her. He chuckled lightly, fiddling with the blanket, then sitting down next to her and pulling it over the pair of them. “You should sleep.”

She shook her head and let him drape an arm over her shoulders, eyelids getting heavier by the second. “Can’t.” Was her simple reply. Bucky pressed a soft kiss to her temple, smoothing down her hair, and she found herself leaning into him.

“Tell me about it.” He waited expectantly for her to explain herself, tell him what was going on in her brain that made her unable to close her eyes and let slumber overtake her body, and so she did.

“The mission, today.” Bucky’s face dropped, because he knew what was coming next. Memories of her past, things that hurt her and scared her, the things that she only told him, no one else. Everyone got the general gist of where she’d come from, what had happened to her, but Bucky knew the details. The heart-wrenching, horrible details that both angered and broke him. “We went back there. The same place that they...you know, hurt me.”

He let her continue, “It was hard. Scary, seeing it again. It looked the same as it did the last time, before I got out. I keep having this same memory come to mind, when they chained me to my bed and didn’t feed me for a week, all so that they could ‘observe’ how my powers worked when I was low on energy. It’s worse, because I’d almost forgotten everything. I was moving on, and, yes, the thought of the place scared me, but it didn’t send shivers down my spine like it used to.”

“I thought I was finally getting better, you know? Thought I was finally handling it.” Her voice broke halfway through her last sentence and a tear rolled down her cheek, but Bucky’s thumb had swiped it away before it could get too far. He was kissing her face, light, feathery kisses from her hairline to her jaw, comforting her without speaking. He knew that she hated when he gave her sympathy, when he spoke at all when she was upset, really. She’d always just wanted to let it out and move on, and he understood and had never questioned it.

“C’mere.” He said simply, wrapping his metal arm around her back and pulling her close to his chest. She sighed into his bare skin, his arms felt strong around her, like a fortress that no one could compromise, and she felt safe. He felt safe. From his scent of musk and mint to the feeling of the scars on his shoulder under her fingertips, he felt safe.

“You should sleep.” Bucky repeated after a few minutes of rubbing over her back soothingly with his calloused thumb and twisting a lock of her hair around his metal pointer finger.

“I told you, I can’t.” But she knew that she was already drifting off. She couldn’t help it, there was just something about the way that he held her, the way that his body fit around hers and his head nuzzled at her neck while he placed the occasional kiss there. He was intoxicating, and she loved it.

He chuckled lowly and released his grip on her, laying down on the sofa and motioning for her to do the same. “I know, angel, but I’m here now. Nothin’s gonna hurt you.” He cradled her face with one hand and touched his nose to hers. “You know I’d never let anything touch you, princess.”

She smiled weakly and he kissed her, a fleeting kiss, but it was enough to convince her to lay her head against his chest while he pulled the blanket up to her chin. There’d be questions from the rest of the team the next day, but neither of the pair minded. “I love you, darlin’. You’re safe.”

Y/N knew that she didn’t know much, that she wasn’t a genius like Tony or Bruce, that she wasn’t a saint like Steve or a god like Thor, but she knew that she’d never felt bliss like she did when she lay with Bucky - her home, her safe-haven - listening to his heart beat.

“Sweet dreams.”

[eirist]

Winter Whimsies ❄️

CUSTOM MADE

Vignette #: 3

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T

Note: Vignette for the ZoNa Holiday 2020 at @zonamievents in Tumblr. December 18 theme: Ornaments / Traditions. Well, I honestly don’t think it’s a vignette anymore. And I’m still aiming to finish all themes even if the event has ended. It’s still holidays after all. 

Summary: All in all… they pretty much started a weird tree decorating tradition.  And Zoro, as usual, doesn’t want to be a part of it.

The Mugiwara Christmas tree stood in all its glory inside the Sunny’s library.

It was the crew’s first time in two years to put one up. Luffy was enthusiastic with the idea. And with Chopper who was just as excited at the prospect of enjoying the festivity that comes along with the said tree… there was no room to say no.

So off Zoro went—along with Franky—to scour the island for a suitable tree to cut down and use. Brook and Jinbei undertook the task of preparing the library. Nami and Robin headed to town to buy decorations and do some more shopping while Sanji busied himself preparing the Christmas dinner. Luffy, Usopp and Chopper took turns stealing some of the cookie dough whenever the chef’s back was turned.

Trimming the tree was chaos unfolding. The moment Zoro was able to situate it in the library, an argument started on what ornaments to adorn the tree as all of them wanted to have their own specific contribution dangling from the evergreen branches—ranging from normal festive baubles, edible confections to weird knick-knacks.

And that is how Nami and Robin found them when they arrived back on the ship. The navigator immediately hit the roof and the boys (including the older ones), trembled in fear.

When she stared at them with blazing eyes and stated in a tone as cold as the winter island that they all better stop because tree trimming was her and Robin’s job... Usopp immediately volunteered that he and the boys would be the ones to decorate the outside of their ship... far away from the fuming map maker.

He high-tailed it out of the library, miraculously dragging the others with him while Nami threatened that if they do an awful job… she will charged them with all the shopping expenses plus interest.

So the two girls busied themselves with the Christmas tree as the others hang wreaths, garlands and boughs of holly in the library, galley and other parts of the Sunny. Franky and Jinbei then suspended some ice lights on the decks and yellow string lights in the rooms, giving the whole area a more festive ambience.

As more and more Christmas ornaments and decorations were put up on the Sunny… the more excited the crew became.

When Nami and Robin finished decorating the tree, Franky added some string lights to it as well. They all hold off placing the star on the top as they reserved that honor for Luffy and Chopper.

They were putting some finishing touches in the tree and fixing the presents underneath it when Brook walked up to them, humming as he nonchalanty hung additional ornaments on the branches that looked like miniature pirates wearing little red, Santa hats—with hair colors oddly similar to the crews’.

“Brook that is cute!” Nami gushed as she stared at a familiar orange-haired pirate. “Where did you get them?”

“Yohohoho! It’s a secret Nami-san.”

“Fine. Keep it to yourself!”

“Perhaps if you show me your—”

“Not in this life or the next!”

“It’s really charming Brook,” Robin interjected as she studied the mini pirates while Nami smacked the musician with her Clima-tact. “Good find.” She touched one that looks just like her.

“Yohohoho! Thank you Robin-san!”

The sound of Sanji’s voice, crooning for his beloved ladies pulled their attention away. He had baked some Christmas cookies and prepared tea for the girls’ snack time.

With the Christmas tree done and decked out they decided it was time for a break.

-------------------------

When Nami stepped inside the library later that afternoon she was surprised to see that the Straw Hats’ Christmas tree got additional decorations.

Aside from the mini pirates Brook has placed earlier, there were also the cardboard drawings of their faces that Usopp made back in Punk Hazard when Trafalgar Law shambled half of the crew and some flowers from Robin’s flower bed. There intricately-made trinkets obviously made by Franky and transparent Christmas balls with little sea kings inside which looks like Jinbei’s.

Nami’s lips twitched a little. She had just left Luffy and Chopper stringing popcorns and cranberries under the direction of Sanji. Aside from the candy canes they wanted to place on the tree, the blond cook also suggested they make an edible garland to circle it… much to the reindeer and rubber man’s delight.

And since pretty much everything eatable hung on the tree will not go to waste—thanks to Luffy—Nami decided to affix some of her precious mikans on it. She carefully wrapped red ribbons around them so she can string it on the branches for all to enjoy after tonight’s dinner.

A loud snore interrupted her as she was beginning to hang the fruits.

With brows furrowed, she slowly peered behind the tree and was surprised to find their swordsman snoozing against the wall, hidden behind the all that green, without a care in the world.

Was he here all the time?!

Damn the man unwittingly camouflaged himself using the Christmas tree!

She stared at him for a good few seconds, pondering if she should wake him up.

But she remembered that it was Christmas and that she promised to play nice and that Zoro was the one reason why they currently have a tree on display.

“Tch! Guess this is your contribution then, you lazy ass,” she muttered as she continued with what she was doing.

There was silence. Before she heard a ‘hmph’ and grumble.

“Yeah… you try lugging that back here while your idiot companion decides to play in the snow.”

Nami rolled her eyes even if he cannot see her. “Fine,” she groused. “I’m letting you off the hook since you did a good job with this tree.”

“Tch.”

She tilted her head slightly to peer at him again. “Just so you know. Everyone have something distinctively theirs in this tree.”

Zoro studied the tree for a moment before scoffing. “That’s overkill.”

Nami glared at him. “It’s called Christmas spirit idiot!” She frowned as she hung the last two of her mikans. “If it’s not too much for you, maybe YOU can also join us in this activity!” 

“Maybe it is too much for me.”

“Ugh,” she groaned out in frustration. With her hands on her hips she glowered at him. “Really Zoro?”

“Yeah.”

Nami scowled. Sometimes his lone wolf persona grates her nerves. Especially at times like these when the whole crew is involved and he’s acting like he doesn’t give any rat’s ass about it.

Still she doesn't wanna start a fight with him today of all days. Instead, she just sighed and settled on glowering at him. “Just get your dumb self in the galley in half an hour. If it's not too much for you to join your crew for dinner." 

There was a bite in her tone. Then she swiveled around to leave him, ignoring the wondering gaze he was now giving her.

All in all… they pretty much started a weird tree decorating tradition.  And Zoro, as usual, doesn’t want to be a part of it.

And that makes her feel a bit disappointed. 

Yet when he didn't appear when they started the Christmas dinner, she was the one who went to check if he was still snoring in the library.

Why her? The hell she even knows. 

Maybe because the others are already busy celebrating in the galley that she was the only who noticed that he wasn't there?

She opened the library door. The lights on the tree were already lit. Franky or Usopp may have switched it on. It looks more beautiful even if it was decorated with random trinkets, baubles and food the crew decided to hang on it. 

Yet the star still needs to be placed on the top—which Luffy and Chopper will do after dinner and before they start exchanging presents.

To her surprise, Zoro was still where she had left him earlier. 

She strode towards him to wake him, when she accidentally snagged something from the tree, causing it to fall. 

She stared at the object quietly sitting on the floor. It looked like paper folded into a shape of...

She picked it up and studied it. 

A bird? 

"Paper crane."

She spun around and saw Robin standing in the doorway.

"In Wano, it means good luck," Robin explained as she approached her, lightly touching it with one finger. She smiled at Nami. "It also means a wish for someone to get their heart's desire."

Nami just stared back at her amazed. 

"And there are ten of them." Robin observed, eyes crinkling with mirth at the tree before returning her gaze at her. "One for each of us."

Nami's eyes settled back at the crane in her hand. 

Robin chuckled. "Thoughtful isn't it Nami?" 

"I guess..."

The older woman gave her shoulder an affectionate pat. "See you two at the galley." She nodded at the still sleeping Zoro.

Nami watched her leave before shifting her attention again at the green-haired man, still slumbering peacefully against the wall, the red scarf she wrapped around his neck earlier hiding the lower part of his face.

He may appear cold and uncaring, but sometimes looks can be deceiving.

She crouched down beside him. Leaning forward she kissed his exposed nose. 

"Not bad Zoro. Not bad." 

Addendum: I went and tweaked the paper crane legend a bit. Though I honestly think it’s not really that far from the original one.