#man i gave Jude a lot of lines in this

[sonicsquid3000]

Broken Wings: Broken Spirit

Broken Wings AU is back! This is part two to "Broken Wings: Broken Mind" Not much of an introduction this time around just the classic fanfic warning. This is non canon and things can and will be inaccurate. This AU and fanfic will also use my MC, Belle Thompson. And as always, there will be grammatical errors. Lastly, if you really like this fanfic, please feel free to repost! it would mean a lot. With that being, It's fanfic time! TW: Violence, blood, and death (a bit descriptive)

Part 1 (thank you @ithseem for teaching me how to link)

*Three years later*

"No! Please! Spare me! I beg you!" The man cried. The air was filled with a stiff, deafening silence that was only broken periodic clicking of William's boots as he walked towards the poor man. "Tell me Andrew, is that what the children said as you forced them to over work in unsafe conditions?" The froze and shuddered in fear from Williams line of question. His eyes darted ever so slightly in panic. "I-I-" "Did You listen to their pleas?" William asked, his words filled with a hint of venom. "Please! I can change! I'll be better! I'll-" "I'm afraid it's too late for that Andrew. I've already made my verdict. I find you...." William walked up close to the groveling man and leaned up close to his ear. "..... guilty." He moved back to look down upon him. The man looked up in pure horror as he saw William. He gave a cruel, wicked smile that would make even the devil shudder. "No! Please!" the man begged. William gave the man a knife. "Slit your throat. Slowly." With that command, no matter how hard the man struggled and tried to free himself, he could not stop himself. The knife pressed into his skin until it pierced through. With one, slow motion of the blade, he began to make a messy, agonizingly long cut along his throat. With each inch of skin being sliced open, blood pooled out from him, falling to the ground and covering his body in it. The man tried desperately to scream for help, but was unable to as he choked and gargled until the he finally fell limp and lied in a pool of his own blood.

William smiled in satisfaction of his work. He called forth his men to clean up the crime scene and walked away to reach his coach. As the man stepped outside, he stopped as he noticed it was beginning to rain. He smiled bitter sweetly. He had always loved the rain, but it now he didn't feel the same amount of joy or freedom he felt in it as he used to. It never did feel the same. Not since his little robin flew away. He returned back to reality and stepped inside the coach as it drove off to the castle. As they proceeded to approach closer to the castle, Williams curiosity began to grow. Victor said that when everyone was done with their respective missions, he had a very important announcement. For what, he was unsure. He did seem to be very excited about it though. When the coach finally made it the entrance of the castle, William stepped out and went straight away to the dinning room where their meetings typically take place. Everyone except Victor was present, impatiently waiting.

"Ugh! Whens the old man gonna get here?! He had the nerve to call for a meeting and doesn't even show up!" Jude growled. Liam sighed. "I have to agree with Jude on this. It's beginning to get quite boring." Elbert then yawned "I'm beginning to grow a bit tired of waiting" "Me too. I wonder what had gotten Victor so excited about?" Ellis questioned. "Well, what ever it is, I say if he's not here in the next ten minutes, we leave" Harrison suggested. "Now, now. Let's not be so impatient here." William reasoned. "Ha! easy for you to say. Ya just got here." Jude scoffed. "Well then, Roger, can you tell us if Victor is on his way here?" William asked. "Hm, I don't think so. It sounds like he's talking to someone, though he hasn't said much and I can't hear the other person speak." Roger said. "He might be talking to one of the maids then." Ellis suggested. "He's wasting all of our time just to talk to some maid?! That's it! I'm leaving!" Jude said as he was about to get up. "Wait!" said Roger. "I hear him coming this way." "Tch, it's about time." Jude scowled.

"Ah! I'm so glad to see my darling cursed boys here today!" Victor cheered. "Ugh! Save yer cheerin' and tell us why we're here?" Jude grumbled. "Oh my! Someone's very impatient. Well, I won't keep you all waiting for long. I have an important announcement to make!" Victor said. "Oh, and what is that?" Liam perked up. "We have new member joining Crown today!" Everyone was who was once tired was now very intrigued. "Allow me to introduce you to Raven!" Victor stepped aside to reveal a person dressed in all black, covered with various holsters along their legs, arms, and chest. They were dressed in simple finery with a black hood that looked very capable of combat. But what really set this stranger apart from everyone was their mask. They wore a black plague mask that hid their features. Despite the strangers short height, there was something about them that unsettled the group. Especially William. He didn't like how he couldn't see their face, read their expression, make some sense of them. For the first time, he met some who was a closed book and he couldn't read it.

"They will be officially starting their position tomorrow after noon." Victor said. Liam bounced off his seat and walked up to greet the stranger. "Oh my. Raven was it? Tell me, What your curse." Liam preened. Raven just there stood there, staring at the cat like man. Liam leaned away from them, feeling a bit uncomfortable. "I'm afraid Raven doesn't really talk to anyone. To answer your question my dear Liam, they don't have a curse." Victor answered. Jude scoffed "So yer tellin' us this pipsqueak is deaf but also doesn't have a cur-" Jude was interrupted by a knife that by uncomfortable close to his face. Raven's hands began to move. "I can hear just fine. And I don't need a curse to kill." they signed in sign language. "Raven here is a remarkable assassin and is quite stealthy. I believe they'll make a remarkable addition to crown." Victor smiled as he rested a hand on Raven's shoulder. "But Victor, isn't the whole point of Crown that we're all cursed people with some sort of unnatural ability?" Harrison asked, tilting his head. "Very true Harrison, but I believe we can make an exception here. Besides, our mission is to fight evil with evil. And after seeing Ravens capabilities, I think they're a perfect fit for crown. After all, we can never bee to short of assassins." Victor smiled. Everyone at the table was very confused.

William however got up and walked to Raven. "Well, curse or no curse, I would like to humbly welcome you to Crown Raven." William outstretched his hand to raven. They just simply stared at him and his out stretched hand. "I'm going to retire for the night" Raven signed. "Ah! Splendid idea Raven. I think we should all get some sleep for an exciting day tomorrow. I will take Raven to their quarters. You all gets some sleep for tomorrow." Victor smiled. With that, everyone was dismissed. As everyone made their way out of the dinning room, William looked back at the mysterious person. There was something about them that just off about them, but he could place his finger on it.

***

Victor took Raven to the highest point of the castle that rarely anyone went up to. This was to be they're new "quarters" of sorts. "Are you sure all of this is alright? You won't feel uncomfortable here?" Victor signed as they signed the rest of their conversation. "Victor, you're worrying too much again." signed Raven. "I know. I'm just worried if you'll be alright with keeping this secret for so long. Besides, last time you saw someone murdered you-" Raven stopped Victors hands. "Victor, it's been three years. A lot has happened. I can take care of myself." Raven reassured him. They lowered their hood and took of their mask. "Some things have changed after all these years." Victor smiled sadly at the response. "I know." He sign. As he was about to leave the room, he turned back to the old friend. "Good night Belle. Sweet dreams" With that, Victor left her to be in her new room.

[szoboobszlai]

DOES HE KNOW?

pairing: ex-situationship!jude bellingham x female reader

warnings: none i guess

author notes: hi! this is the first time i wrote something like this and also the first time i have ever written something entirely in english – since it's not my first language, you may find some grammar mistakes. anyways, hope you enjoy it! 🤍✨

| edit: this is the first part of my one direction lyric-based writing series! you can find the full writing list here.

it was passing through jude’s head all night.

you, in that tight little skirt, were the only thing he could pay attention to – the other girls around him?

he didn’t even notice.

the only thing he noticed was the way you were dancing in that nightclub partnerless. that man you were going out with just didn’t show up? did you broke up this “thing” you had with him?

jude didn’t know.

in fact, you and jude were in a situationship for a few months last summer, in where he was on vacation from real madrid. nothing that serious for any of you – he was a world class player and you knew that you shouldn’t involve with this kind of man; you weren't a football groupie, after all.

he felt different, but never told you.

after he went back to madrid to restart the intense training routine, he knew that you started going out with another man; people told jude that you were with this guy named josh, and he actually saw both of you in a party a few weeks before.

jude knew the man knows a few things about you: your secret tattoo, your favorite band, the songs that you sing when you’re all alone.

but you’re not with josh tonight.

does he know that you try to hide your smile when jude bellingham catch your eye and see you looking at him?

does he know you can move like that just for jude to see it?

jude bet he didn’t.

— uh... hey. — he said when he got closer to you on the dance floor.

— hi, jude. — you answered, trying to not seem so nervous; it was jude bellingham, after all.

you knew he was that magnetic, with his dark eyes that could see through your soul and that strong and elegant woody scent you already knew.

you face each other for a while; his gaze gave you goosebumps, and you had exactly the same effect on him.

— it’s been a while, right? — he says shyly, almost afraid of your answer. — so... have you been alone tonight?

— yes, it’s been a while. i only see you in your games through the TV. — you confess. — and yes, i’m on my own tonight.

your red-lined smile made jude’s heart skip a beat; so you have been cheering on him last season, even with him playing on a team in another country?

actually, it was pretty nice for him to hear it.

— doesn't josh get jealous when he sees you watching to another men on TV? — jude asks. doesn't he get jealous when he sees you watching jude on TV? doesn't he get jealous seeing you cheering for a man that still wanted you so bad?

— i didn't care if he jealous or not, actually. — you answer, for jude’s surprise. — josh knew a lot about me, but nothing about me.

the silence between you overcame the loud music that echoed through the walls of the nightclub.

— how could him know you head to toe and yet don't know nothing about you?

— well... he’s not you, jude.

he knew that. jude bellingham knows you inside and out; he memorized every single detail of your face, the songs that you sing when you're all alone. everything about you.

the way you talked got him mesmerized.

the way he looked at you, with his lips slightly open, while the song was playing loudly on the background, got you thinking about how much you missed being in his arms.

as if jude was reading your mind, he closes the space between both of you, sealing your lips with a peck that turned into a loving kiss.

the way his hands fit perfectly in your waist, tracing every inch of your body, was making you insane.

the way he kissed your neck passionately, even if you were in the crowd, showed that he barely cared about being the worldwide famous footballer.

tonight, he was just yours.

does he know that you wanted him so bad?

[loviingpedri]

feliz navidad - jude bellingham

prompt: jude’s first christmas tree in madrid

warnings: grammar issues, cheesy lines

credits to owners for all images

“jude! look at all these ornaments i got.”

“they’re really pretty. remind me, what is the theme for the tree again?” he picked up the green ornament with the unique carvings of it.

“traditional christmas of course. classic colors like green and red. it’s gonna look beautiful.”

“beautiful like you?” he winked at you while you grinned from his flirty comment.

“anyways! are you ready to start decorating?” he nodded his head as he opened the box of lights. he began to put the lights on as you tried to find hooks for the ornaments.

“do you think we should do fake presents again. i mean, it looked pretty last year.”

“do whatever it takes to make it your dream christmas tree. the least i can do is help you. take this as my appreciation for your sacrifices in moving here with me.” the lights were blinking at you as he finished his sentence.

“you always say that. can’t leave the love of my life in a foreign place alone.”

“aren’t i special then?”

“don’t let your ego get to you jude.” finding the hooks for the ornaments, it was finally time for your favorite tradition. decorating with jude.

grabbing a sparkly green ornament, it was already matching with the lights. soon, dozens of red and green were everywhere.

“jude! did you put these green ornaments together?” he was just happy to help. you appreciated everything he did, but sometimes it didn’t quite match your ideas.

“yeah? what about it?” he grabbed another red ornament as the tree started to become overwhelming.

“they aren’t suppose to be next to each other. it’s a contrasting kind of idea, you know?” he just nodded, but he didn’t understand the point of it. another rule added to the list, don’t put the same kind of ornament together.

the tree came together perfectly. especially with the ribbons and lights. the only challenging part next was the star. you attempted to put it on there yourself, but it was no use.

“having trouble?” as you finally stopped stretching your arm, you couldn’t deny it.

“yeah i am. do you have a ladder or anything?” now, the jude bellingham started laughing in your face. usually, you would be offended but it was definitely more confusion. “what are you laughing at?” giving him a sassy pose, his smile became vivid.

“the only thing i should be smiling at. why get a ladder when you have me?” jude really thinks he’s the smartest man out here.

“what?”

“oh come on. i’m strong enough to hold you.”

“jude, what are you on about?”

“get on my shoulders of course. you’ll be tall enough to put the star on.”

pure shock was seen in your face. “are you serious? i mean you could seriously get hurt.”

“don’t you trust me?” he crept down slowly and told you to just get on. after awkward movement, you felt your stomach drop as he stood up. everything was much clearer in this view.

“this is absolutely crazy.”

“don’t fall, please.” as you got closer to the tree, the star was shining bright on your face. jude walked to the couch to playfully yet gently throw you off. a lot of giggles and cuddles were shared as you admired your new masterpiece.

“it’s so bright.”

“yeah, just like you.” he gave you a kiss on your forehead as you got comfortable under the blanket right next to him.

——————————————

author’s note: happy holidays to those who celebrate! it’s crazy how this has been in my draft since november and it finally came together. wishing you all happiness!

[gayuu-the-necromancer]

Evil Love Blooming In The Dark Part 1 Jude Jazza ~ Story

 ｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

My lips are hot and my heart is pounding.

Kate: "----I don't want to be in love with someone like you ever again."

Jude: "Thanks a lot. Neither do I want someone like you in my life."

I can't believe I'm falling for the cruel sneer on your thin lips....

Absolutely no.

..........

Just for one month, I became a fairy tale master after I learned a secret that I shouldn't have known.

Then Victor, the Queen's aide, made a proposal to me.

Victor: "A fairy tale master's job is to keep track of them. That means you have to develop an understanding of them."

Victor: "So Miss Kate. Your first job is...."

Victor: "I want you to pick one of the Crown members and spend a day with them as lovers."

Kate: "It's easy for you to say just 'pick one'........."

Victor smiled cheerfully at me as I froze at the suggestion.

Victor: "Can't pick one? Hmmm....how about we use darts instead?"

(Darts!?)

After quickly preparing the darts like a magic trick, Victor threw one of them at the target with great enthusiasm.

Victor: "The white feather....Oops, I'm sorry robin."

Kate: "Hm?"

Victor: "This may or may not lead to upheaval?"

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

Victor: "Jude~"

(Of all the people it could land on, of course, it had to be the most troublesome one....!)

When we visited the common room, I found Mr. Jude, Ellis, and Mr. Roger each spending their morning.

When Victor explained the situation, Mr. Jude looked up from his newspaper with a face indicating displeasure.

Jude: "No."

Jude: "First of all, why are making this woman a lover? Are you crazy? I doubt her nerves."

Victor: "I'll pay extra for next month."

Jude: ".........Tch."

Mr. Jude stared at me and gave me a mocking cold smile.

Jude: "Once you leave this castle, you better not complain. I don't wanna hear you whining about how much you don't like it or how you wanna go home."

Jude: ".......What do you say? Can you promise me that?"

(....I've come this far, so let's go forward)

(So that I can leave this castle as a trustworthy fairy tale master)

(I must do my job well)

Kate: "Yes. Promise!"

Jude: "Ha...."

When I responded with enthusiasm, Mr. Jude sighed in dismay.

Roger: "Haa. You're going to have a difficult road ahead, if you make promises like that to Jude, young lady."

Kate: "Hm...?"

Roger: "This guy never fails to keep his word. Also, he demands the same from others."

Roger: "The last thing you want to do is break that promise. What waits for you is a terrible retribution for being a defaulter."

Kate: "Terrible retribution....?"

When slowly turned my head to look at Mr. Jude, he had a cruel smile on his lips as if he was enjoying my fright.

Jude: "Don't make promises so easily, princess. I'll teach you that slowly over the course of a day."

..........

Several minutes after that.

(.......I-I wanna go home!)

I regretted my promise as soon as I got out.

Shabbily-dressed man: "Jude Jazza. I won't forgive you.....!"

Jude: "What a disgraceful thing to say in broad daylight. You brought this upon yourself."

Mr. Jude and Ellis were heading for work, so we went to town together. Not more than few minutes later....

Just as Mr. Jude entered the alley from the main street, a shabbily dressed man jumped out with a knife.

Shabbily-dressed man: "You took my house, my property. Everything...!"

Shabbily-dressed man: "Even though I was working hard, the money I earned was being sucked away to pay off my debts....My family is scattered!"

Shabbily-dressed man: "And this is all your fault!!"

Jude: "Ellis."

Ellis: "Mm."

In a flash, Ellis quickly jumps out, grabs the knife from the man, presses him to the ground and restrains him.

(....What the hell was that move?)

I was taken aback by his body language, which cannot be explained simply by his familiarity with the place.

Jude: "You broke the contract. If you want to starve to death paying for a lawsuit you can't win, go ahead."

Mr. Jude, casually walks straight past the man after throwing that line.

Shabbily-dressed man: "Nn..nn...."

Ellis: ".......sorry."

Seeing the man looking down in frustration, Ellis released his restraints and followed Mr. Jude.

(.....What should I do)

I don't know what contract he made with Mr. Jude and why he broke it...

(But....it would be too sad to....leave him like this)

On a spur of the moment, I took out a handkerchief and offered it to the mud-covered man.

Kate: "Umm....here....."

Shabbily-dressed man: "Tch. I don't need a girl like you to pity ME....!"

Kate: "Kyaa....!?"

The man snarled and grabbed onto my leg instead of the handkerchief.

Kate: "L-Let go! Please!"

Shabbily-dressed man: "Shut up! Don't talk back to me!"

My body froze in fear and----

Shabbily-dressed man: "Argh....!"

(Eh.....?)

A clean, polished shoe dug into the man's face.

Jude: "Don't go around touching other people's property."

(Mm....)

I turned around to follow the long legs that gripped and pressed their heels against the man's face.

Mr. Jude was there, looking down at the men with displeasure.

Shabbily-dressed man: "Nn...Nnn..."

Jude: "Heh. Love that face. I love that miserable look."

Mr. Jude scoffs at the man in agony with a bleeding nose, and he turned his heels and started walking away.

(Ah...I have to go)

The man didn't seem to have the energy to jump on me anymore, but the fear I felt earlier distracted me.

I quietly place the handkerchief next to him and ran away.

..........

(Regardless of what method he used.....he still did protect me. I have to thank him)

Kate: "Umm....Thank you for earlier."

Jude: ".....That's what you get for being a naive princess."

Kate: "...Hm?"

Jude: "I didn't do it for you."

Jude: "But from here on now, you're my woman."

Jude: "If I hadn't done something about it, I'm going to get my ass handed to me."

Kate: "O-Oh, I see."

(.......I wish he had just accepted honestly since it didn't change the fact that he helped me)

(But.....he used such violence, so it makes sense, I guess)

Kate: "So, um....how did that man..be like that.....?"

Jude: "Huh? That guy made a contract with me and he didn't keep his word. Now he's paying for it,"

Jude: "He's so miserable, pathetic, and hilarious, right?"

(You were so calm despite immense hatred directed at you)

(On contrary, you seemed to be enjoying it......as if it were a past time)

Jude Jazza. He has the curse of 'The 13th Wizard.'

Ruthless, arrogant and with a strong desire for revenge.

I recall the wording of the material about his curse and I am deeply convinced.

Jude: "You better watch your mouth if you don't want to end up like that. Understood?"

Kate: "Eh.....?"

Jude: "Just now, you wished that....you wanna go home, right?"

Kate: "....I didn't say it, I was just thinking about it."

Jude: "What a pity. I went all the way into the alley to put you in danger and you...."

(Eh....?)

Kate: "Y-You...did you purposely take that route so we get attacked, so I break the promise I made to you!?"

Jude: "Ah, at least you got some brains."

Kate: "What do you mean by 'some'.....?"

Jude: "Heh, thanks."

Jude: "I'm interested to see how long that cocky attitude lasts."

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

I thought it was an office, but we arrived at a port instead.

(I see. They're a tradng company....so they must be in and out of the port frequently)

Jude: "Ellis, get that 'thing' ready. Maybe he'll move tonight."

Ellis: ".......Okay. Miss Kate, see you later."

Kate: "Ah yes....see you."

('Thing'....? I wonder where Ellis is going?)

Tilting my head, I chase after Mr. Jude, who is walking faster and faster as he sends instructions here and there.

Mr. Jude struck up conversations with dockworkers and what appeared to be foremen.

I settled between the loads and observed him.

The looks directed at him were of fright, fear, hostility and....sometimes respect.

(They are scared of him and he's antagonistic, but I think he's so admired...because he can't be easily touched)

After a while, when the work conversation was over and there was no one around Mr. Jude....

Suddenly, a friendly young man rushed up to him.

Young man: "Mr. President. Thank you for your hard work!"

Jude: "Tsk. You're so loud, Jack."

Jack: "Wow, you remembered my name!"

(So there are some people who adore him like this. That's.....surprising)

Jack: "Hm? Who is that young lady over there?"

Jude: "Ah? My woman."

Jack: "Ehhhh!? Mr. President has a lover!?"

(That was so loud...!)

I felt a rush of gazes and I started breaking a sweat.

(I'm scared...or rather it feels like they are all staring at me....?)

Jude: "So what, huh?"

Jack: "Eh? Oh no, sorry. Hehe....I didn't mean to attract a lot of attention like that."

Jude: "Haa....Whatever, just get back to work now."

Jack smiled apologetically and ran away.

(I don't know....I feel uncomfortable)

As I shrink to my make my body smaller among the cargo, I feel Mr. Jude laughing and I looked up.

Jude: "Yes yes. Just like that."

Jude: "Curl up into a ball and disappear. At least it's better than being killed for simply being my girlfriend."

Kate: "So you're saying.....I could get attacked, just like earlier today....?"

I was reminded how that man grabbed my leg and I started feeling uneasy.

Jude: "......Are you scared?"

Kate: "Well, of co------"

(Ah....he might take that as a complaint....?)

I swallowed the words 'Of course, I'm scared' and Mr. Jude snickered and took a step closer to me.

Kate: ".......Mr. Jud.."

Jude: "You're scared, right? Naive, diligent princess?"

Jude: "There's no way you're going to make it back home in one piece after being in that kind of trouble so many times."

As I moved back the closer he gets, I realized my back touched the load of cargo and there is no way out.

Jude: "Look, you can't run away anymore."

His long fingers circled my neck and squeezed to slow the flow of blood.

The sensation of being squeezed, not so painful that I can't breathe but definitely tight, makes my blood run cold.

Kate: "Nn...... .......!"

(I can't say 'stop' or....complain that 'I don't like it')

I was trapped in a situation where I had no way to resist, and the only thing that kept me going was the fear that was growing.

Jude: "If I put a little more pressure here, you'll never go back to the castle again....."

Jude: "What do you say?"

Kate: "......Nn."

(I won't let you....!)

Instead of complaining, I looked straight at Mr. Jude.

Jude: ".....Ha. This face is the cutest one I've seen today."

Jude: "You poor thing. You want to go home but you can't say it out loud because that will break your promise and you're scared that I'll do terrible things to you, right?"

Mr. Jude sees through my fear and struggle and mocks me.

(Is this, your way of making me realize....that 'it's not easy to make promises with you?')

(But you said 'promise me'......)

Anger welled up in me and I squeezed my voice out of my throat, which remained tight.

Kate: "I-I...."

Kate: "I'm not complaining because I fear your retaliation."

Kate: "I just don't want to show that I'm unfaithful....even after I'm released by you guys...."

Jude: "........."

Kate: "So, I will keep my promise to you."

Jude: "......Tch"

He removed his hand from my neck and blood rushed back to my head, making me dizzy.

Kate: "Haa...."

As I stumbled unsteadily to my feet, he grabbed me by the arms and forced me to pull myself up.

Jude: "Do you think I would let my woman go down like this?"

(....This man, seriously is the worst.....!)

Jude: "I've got a business meeting coming up. So just kill some time around here."

Mr. Jude threw me out and went off somewhere.

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

After a few hours of waiting....

(I want to go home....)

Mr. Jude never returned, and I shivered in the gradually cooling night breeze.

Jack: "Um, Miss Kate....?"

Kate: "You are.....Mr. Jack, right?"

Jack: "Yes. Mr. Jude told me to get you."

(Leaving me just like that and asking your one of you men get me instead of coming on your own....)

I force a smile, feeling my mouth pulled into a tight line.

Kate: "Yeah, okay. Let's go."

...........

(Is this.....some kind of warehouse of company?)

I stepped in with Mr. Jack.

There was a strange man in black and his guards surrounding him.

Man wearing a bowler hat: "Are you Jude Jazza's woman?"

Kate: ".....W-Who are you guys....?"

As I back away, Mr. Jack immediately ties me up.

(This person should have been Mr. Jude's subordinate...!)

Kate: "Are you betraying Mr. Jude?"

Jack: "It's unconscionable to say betraying. I signed a contract with him for money."

Jack: "But now, I got a better-paying job. Why wouldn't I switch?"

Mr. Jack pushed me towards the man wearing a bowler hat.

Man wearing a bowler hat: "I think you're a worthy hostage. That's why I made him bring you here."

Man wearing a bowler hat: "It is unusual for that man to be walking around with a woman, after all."

Kate: "That man...y-you mean, Mr. Jude?"

Man wearing a bowler hat: "Yeah. Just the other day, I heard a guy who sent a woman to sex trafficking was never reinstated." (This line is so confusing, someone please help me!)

Man wearing a bowler hat: "Unexpectedly, he is a man who cares about women."

Kate: ".....I think you've mistaken him for someone else."

Man wearing bowler hat: "Hahaha! Don't underestimate my intelligence network."

Man wearing a bowler hat: "He's got some bad info on me."

Man wearing a bowler hat: "The plan is to negotiate for young lady's safe return, in exchange for shutting his eyes."

Kate: ".....And what if Mr. Jude refuses?"

Man wearing a bowler hat: "Then, unfortunately....you will die."

The cruel declaration sents chills down my spine.

(I doubt that Mr. Jude would be willing to negotiate for me)

(I have to get out of here on my own.....!)

Kate: "Look....to be honest, I just followed him at work today."

Jack: "Huh? But I saw you two flirting in the harbor, earlier today."

Kate: "O-On what angle did it look like we were flirting!? He was choking me....!"

Jack: "Maybe he's into those kind of things."

Kate: "That's a misunderstanding....! I have nothing to do with him----"

Jude: "My girlfriend is so cruel that it really hurts me."

At that moment, we heard something heavy falling on the ground with a thud, and we all turned to the entrance.

It was Jude, who stomped the unconscious guard's body and walked on top of him.

Jude: "Get out of my way, thank you very much."

 ｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

Bitter End // Premium End // Epilogue

[sforzesco]

Hi- hope you are well, I love your art! I was wondering if you had an opinion on whether or not Crassus would side with Pompey or Caesar in the event that they still ended up going to civil war if he lived (noting he'd probably have been able to prevent it if he wanted to)

I HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS A LOT

the part of me that believes in the enduring romance of a good partnership says he picks Pompey, but the part of me that loves tragedy and also spends too much time reading anything that mentions Crassus is saying 'it would depend.'

specifically, I think the decision would be timeline dependent, in the sense that Crassus would be more inclined to bet on Caesar since Pompey opts to stay in Rome and fulfill his command through legates, and his behavior during all of this is kind of eyebrow raising for someone like Crassus, who would probably start writing up a Pros/Cons list

it would also be thematically in line with Pompey, since the desertion of everyone except for Cornelia is important, and the loss of Crassus would be devastating since Crassus is one of the characters who has been in Pompey's narrative the longest, and his longest alliance for sure. Crassus outlived all of Pompey's marriages except for the one Pompey had to his son's widow, after all! and Pompey said he was the rising sun to Sulla's setting one, and you gotta commit to the theme if you're going to speak it into the world! and to a certain degree, Crassus also might feel more inclined to trust Caesar more at this point

on the other hand, a little later down the timeline, Caesar flips the Senate off and does his little Rubicon Scene, and provided Crassus hasn't picked between the two, he would probably re affirm his decades long coalition with Pompey because Sulla's Ghost marching on Rome is unacceptable. also, thematically here we're unlocking Sulla's Ghost (Caesar) going against Sulla's Heirs (Crassus, Pompey), and we've arrived at a Civil War With Layers To It Anyway! as both a Thebaid and Pharsalia enjoyer, this appeals to me immensely.

creating a situation where no Civil War happens is intriguing too, since the deaths that prompt it are Julia and Crassus. so. creating a situation where Crassus doesn't invade Parthia is a fun puzzle to solve. historically, Crassus gave both his sons over to Caesar to get their start on the military ladder, and Publius is the spark that starts off the Parthian expedition, so there needs to be an alternate event that stops Crassus from planning the expedition. the easy way out is that Crassus simply holds it off for one more year or simply Does Not Do It, but it clashes with both Publius' character and the way that Crassus was aware that he's. like. old, and is trying to legacy build something for his sons, and Crassus' atypical hold on power does not seem like something Publius would be interested in pursuing. but Marcus on the other hand......maybe.......

I have been toying with the idea of figuring out a scenario where Crassus splits his sons between Pompey and Caesar, but man, trying to get any of these years to line up in a way for it to work would require a personal miracle from saint jude or something, like I'm sitting across from Crassus and going 'hey man, what do I have to do to make you stay in Syria and not make a bad decision.'

[kickthepitch]

Chelsea v Dortmund

What. A. Match.

Honestly, the first 10 minutes into the game, I was absolutely stunned by how well Chelsea was playing; they wanted this win almost as bad as they needed it. As much as people slammed Potter, I have to root for the man at this point; the method to his madness is shining through as Chelsea upstages Dortmund.

Though the match was not perfect, two missed shots from Havertz did sting. It was close. Players like Enzo, Sterling, and Felix had magnificent touches on the ball: placement, form, and precision were all there. They read through defenders and calculated breakaways down to the T; as we saw with Sterling's many opportunities ,though he is just a bit too fast as the offside flag went up. The potential for Joao Felix is absolutely there; we would all be blind not to see it; his pressure in the first half of the match was exactly what the team needed to continue making technical plays that opened up opportunities. Similar to Enzo, who was relentlessly dividing himself between attacking mid and defending mid. Though when we shoved, Dortmund shoved back, it was a tough match.

Despite it all, our attackers played the way we had all been itching to see. We applaud Sterling, who pushed us forward, and Havertz, who sealed the deal. As for defending, it was no surprise to see Cucurella get player of the match; his aggression and accuracy made for an exciting combination tonight as he put himself on the front lines for the team. Not much to say other than wonderfully executed defending. Also, not a surprise to see Ben Chilwell laying himself on the line for the team. Pretty sure that's a close fight for him in almost every match , but he's dedicated. I enjoy watching Ben play every game; his spirit remains high until the end.

Christian Pulisic also appeared on the pitch again after being out on injury, which was exciting to see. He is doing very well, and hopefully, we can see him out on the pitch more often; his dynamic with Felix and Havertz could make for an exciting lineup as each of them work well in creating on target shot opportunities.

Dortmund was caught off guard by the way Chelsea began the match, not used to the blues' pressure, considering they were the aggressors in the previous match. As a Chelsea fan, I can not say much. I can understand the frustrations that came with Havertz getting the second penalty. To shame their playing would be a lie; they played brilliantly. Gio Reyna coming in so early in the game, not knowing if he would have come in at all, was something Dortmund did not plan, but he gave an outstanding performance and kept up well with his teammates and opponents. His cross pass to Bellingham would have been dangerous for Chelsea had Bellingham gotten there in time. Hopefully, Dortmund will give him more playing experience as he appears to hold lots of promise. Jude Bellingham is a very talented, and watching him is always special; he controls the pitch as a versatile player. I am certain wherever he goes during this summer trade period will do him well.

Both teams played with their hearts out on that pitch, and it was a joy to watch. Chelsea will enter the quarter-finals, hoping for that back-to-back champions league title.

Lets go blue!!

[spoopydooblr]

My King Will Be Kind Chapter 1 / Kendall Roy x OC

an: hiiiiiiiii first time posting here ughhhh anyways enjoy this kendall fic bc i binged succession with my roommate

pairing: Kendall Roy x Original Female Character

tw: mentions of drug use, cursing

Stella fixed her black Valentino dress in the bathroom mirror of the club. She looked okay.  Not bad, not great.  It was hour three at the club, and Stella was really over it.  The bass felt like it was pumping through the walls. She needed a break from the craziness. It was usually like this, work all week and stupid events like this all weekend. And this weekend was her friend's birthday.  

Not that she didn't love her friends—or the free drinks.  And the guys could be fun...sometimes.  Tonight they partied with some semi-professional baseball players who were okay at best.  One even tried to follow her into the bathroom, but she declined.  

Even now, four movies and two shows under her belt, Stella struggled to a guy that actually gave a fuck.  Her most recent role, a side character in HBO's Delirium, was by-far her biggest break.  They had just wrapped season two, so she was taking some time in New York to work on her writing.  By dumb luck a studio was interested in her writing and wanted some pilots.  After spending the last few years in Los Angeles, Stella decided to come back to the east coast for a bit.  

So here she was now, walking back from the bathroom of some club, trying to think of the best excuse to leave the party and get the fuck home.  Stella weaved through the VIP line, arriving at the private section where her friends were.  The baseball guys were still evident, but two other men--in very expensive suits--stood with the group.  She made her way over, grabbing a drink from the waiter.  It was time to find the birthday girl and say goodbye.  Stella spied her friend from across the room, but was interrupted by one of the suit-men.  She immediately recognized him.

"Roman Roy." He stuck out his hand.  

Roman Roy.  Son of media bigwig Logan Roy.  Stella knew exactly who he was.  Not that she was a big fan of business stuff, but she knew all about ATN and their hateful broadcasting.  She knew all about his billionaire family and their insane antics.  

She shook his hand reluctantly.

"So you're a big deal I hear?" He laughed. "Well I've never heard of you."

"I've been in a few movies—" She started, but is again interrupted by him.

"Argh, actress, never mind." Roman scoffed at her and made his way to another one of her friends.

Stella was just drunk enough to feel pretty embarrassed. Normally, she would brush something like this off, but he was an important person in the city.  The Roy's could make or break her career if they really wanted to.  They controlled the media.  Hell, they were the media.  

"Hey. I'm sorry about my brother." A deep voice said from her side. "He's a fuck."

Stella looked at the man who was now in front of her. The first thing she noticed was how tired he looked.  The second was that he was Kendall Roy.  And he was just as hot in person.  

"Oh, um, it's okay."

"I'm Kendall, by the way." He held out his hand. He had a fancy ring on his pinkie finger.

"Stella."

"Matchstick Funeral." He said.

Stella couldn't help but light up. "Yes!"

It was one of her first roles. She played Jude Law's estranged daughter. That was three years ago, now.

"It's my uh, ex-wife's favorite movie."

Stella laughs, accidentally. "Sorry, um, wow, I feel like a lot of people don't remember that film."

"It's so fuckin good."

"God, thank you, wow."

They stood there for a minute.

Stella decided to play dumb. "So what do you do?"

Kendall laughed nervously. "Uh—"

Stella batted her eyelashes, then laughed, "I'm kidding, jeez!"

"Oh," Kendall smiled. "I suppose you're familiar."

"With the sexual abuse on the cruises?" She continues. "Or your rap song?"

Kendall scoffs.

"Before I was, um, like this." Stella gets quieter. "I loved celebrities and all that. I read like, every magazine." It was true, she loved stealing her mother's People Magazine as a kid.  

"Ah, I'm surprised you're even talking to me, then."

"Me too."

"Do you wanna uh, go outside?"

She was still a little unsure about him, but she wasn't really a fan of crowds and honestly really needed to smoke.

"Yeah, sure."

Kendall led her to a private balcony. Stella had never been to this part of the club, even with her own notoriety.

"Do you smoke?" Kendall revealed a pack of American Spirit yellow.

"Well," Stella rummaged through her Prada purse. "Not nicotine." She pulled out a joint.

"Need a light?" Kendall asked, moving towards her. Stella put the joint in her mouth, leaning over to Kendall's lighter. She pulled away quickly after, the scene becoming more and more intimate.

This was the same guy that yelled "Fuck the Patriarchy" to paparazzi last year. And he could be her dad. He probably wasn't that old, but he had to be a good ten years older. At least.  She remembered the tabloid photos of him snorting cocaine off of a strippers boobs.  Didn't he have a couple of kids, too?

Stella took a long drag of her joint.

"Can I get a hit?" Kendall stated, and it's as if they're teenagers hiding weed from their parents.

She nodded, handing him the joint.  He didn't look like he was on anything else, so she obliged.  

He took a long drag and looked her up and down.  She felt objectified, but it kind of turned her on.  Kendall probably knew that.  

"I bought a fucking company today."

"What?"

"Me and my siblings.  We bought Pierce."  She kind of knew what he was talking about, based on the Twitter trending page from that morning.  #Roy was third on the page.  

Stella laughed,  "Congrats, Kendall."  She touched his arm, mentally noting to stop drinking and smoking so much.  It was crazy to her, all this.  He casually dropped billions of dollars and goes to the club.  

"If I called a car right now, would you want to uh, go to my place?"

Stella couldn't believe it. Kendall fucking Roy.

"I don't really do that sort of thing, I'm sorry. It's like an image thing, and I'm so young I can't—"

"Of course." He looked genuinely disappointed.

Stella cursed internally as she whispered, "do you want my number?"

"What?"

Stella rolled her eyes. "You heard me."

"Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it again." He smirked.

[marysittingathisfeet]

You'll Be The Judge

1 Corinthians 6:2A,3- Or do you not know that the Lord's people will judge the world?.....Do you not know that we will judge angels? How much more the things of this life?

Since angels are without sin- how can we then judge them? Most likely we will participate in the judgement of the fallen angels.

Jude 1:6: And angels who did not keep their own domain, but abandoned their proper abode, He has kept in eternal bonds under darkness for the judgment of the great day

How does it feel to know that you will sit beside Jesus Christ and judge not only people but angels? To sit next to the King of Kings and Lords of Lords who is righteous, holy, and without sin is itself a miracle. But to cast judgement as well. This is a heavy responsibility. To whom much is given, much will be required” Luke 12:48

We aren't going to rule!. Not true you say? Let's look at a few more verses.

Daniel 7:26, 27- "'But the court will sit, and his (Satan) power will be taken away and completely destroyed forever. Then the sovereignty, power, and greatness of all the kingdoms under heaven will be handed over to the holy people of the Most High."

Sovereignty is defined as supreme power or authority. Power is the capacity to direct the course of events. Authority is the right to give orders, make decisions, and enforce obedience. So the Holy people of God, that's us- will be set as rulers on this earth. Are you ready for this responsibility? God must trust us to allow us this level of authority.

Revelations 3:21 - To the one who is victorious, I will give the right to sit with me on my throne, just as I was victorious and sat down with my Father on his throne.

Jesus sees us as being worthy to share his throne. But are we worthy? Not on our own.

Ephesians' 2:8-10- God saved you by His grace when you believed. And you can't take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it.

Not only does God give us honor and power he calls us His masterpiece.

Ephesians 2: 10- For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.

Masterpieces are highly sought after and are the creations of the master's. Imagine yourself hanging in the Louvre Museum in Paris and thousands come to just gaze upon you. (no nudes thank you). You are a masterpiece of that caliber.

So Jesus gave up his life for us, has good plans for us, calls us his masterpiece, and will one day place us in authority. No wonder the bible says that God is our inheritance.

Psalm 16:5- O Lord, You are the portion of my inheritance and my cup; You maintain my lot. The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; Yes, I have a good inheritance.

Now revelation reminds us that this is for the one who is victorious. How can we be sure to be victorious? The Bible tells us that the Holy Spirit is our guarantee

Ephesians 1:13-14- And you were also included in Christ when you heard the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation. When you believed, you were marked with him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God's possession- to the praise of His glory.

So what have we done to receive this gift, nothing. absolutely nothing. By the way Matthew ells us that the apostles will sit on 12 thrones by Jesus' own words.

Matthew 19:28 And Jesus said to them, " Truly I say to you, that you who have followed Me, in the regeneration when the Son of Man will sit on His glorious throne, you also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.

[talenlee]

Fundie Divorce and Other Dramas

What god has put together let no man put asunder, goes the line. And since judges are men, and laws are written by men that means that divorce, if you’re a Biblical literalist, seems? Bad? I mean a Biblical literalist might look at all the times that people in the Bible married multiple women and also had concubines as well, and there were laws about doing a divorce but Jesus said it was only because of sin and then Paul said it’d be better if you never got married in the first place but this is only useful for spherical christians in a vacuum.

How do you think fundamentalist churches handle divorces? Setting aside the way that, as human beings in a social setting may actually handle something like this sensible, the fundie environment is one with a lot of its own special traditions and rules. Rules like how to absolutely mishandle a complex topic like a divorce.

And just to be clear on this one by the way, I am 100% pro-divorce. I think divorces are good. They suck to experience, I don’t think anyone goes into a divorce going ‘eff yeah, time to be divorced!’ but I think if a relationship is collapsing or failing nobody should be trying to stick around and force it into working when it doesn’t. Which is why an environment that makes this hard decision worse uh, sucks. And it sucks because of techniques liiike…

Judeeing

First of all there’s the option that works within a fundamentalist church’s greatest and most well-used tool, which is endless denial of reality. Judeeing is when you continue to associate with the divorced people, continue to talk to them and just pointedly never bring any of it up. This can create a really weird alienated feeling where you watch two people having a completely normal conversation where you’ll watch voids form. You know, like person A, the divorced one, says hi, how are you, how’s your partner? and the other will say oh, he’s fine, dead pause where a response question would be.

The important thing for this isn’t to do anything that acknowledges the experience of the person undergoing the divorce. Sometimes you’ll have someone gracious who is willing to shift topics and make things a little gracious, but vitally, you never ever ever offer support or help based on what they’re going through. You don’t do anything that implies their free time has changed or their financial situation is difficult.

This technique is really interesting because it’s clearly really difficult to do. It’s actively hard, you have to maintain a conversation that’s entirely emotionally brittle but also never do anything that might direct attention to the most important thing happening right now. In this regard it underscores the way that we WASPs will expend enormous effort in doing something for someone else as long as it’s not the much easier, much more sensible and emotionally honest option. Accepting imperfection or failure in people is hard and it’s emotionally challenging and so, uh, just… just don’t? Don’t do that. Don’t need to.

Fundies will literally construct an entire alternate reality rather than recognise that some people need therapy. Probably starting with themselves.

Unpersoning

Hey, that sounds like a lot of work though. What if instead you could just pretend that one of the people involved wasn’t a thing? What if, when presented with two people who gave you a difficult kind of experience to reconcile with, within your faith, and you don’t have the skills to confront anyone about that or recognise that sometimes people are bad for one another, what if instead, like, just…

One of them wasn’t there?

This is really specific, really direct kind of complete freezeout. The church collectively picks one of the people in the former couple and just ignores the other. Wholesale. I’ve seen this happen a few times but every time it’s been the unpersoning of the woman in the couple, which, you know, maybe that’s because in every example the church collectively agreed that the woman did the bad thing or maybe it’s just that we were pre-built and prepared to hate women a lot? Maybe.

The thing is this Unpersoning is an example of treating the experience as something that you need to punish, but not something that you have the emotional

Anyway, Unpersoning is easy but it runs into risks if say, the Unperson is the one with the kids and the other kids play with those kids. It can be harder to isolate the kids and you know, the parents and adults don’t want to tell the kids ‘don’t talk to them, they did a divorce,’ so instead it’s just social pressure, a sort of low-key pushing away from shared events with that kid or those kids. This is obviously, a tough one. The good news is that kids just have enough suffering and struggles to go through because it’s not like they’re people with agency and emotional needs.

Heck, just tell the kids that one of the parents died, and call the parent that’s still around a widow and let the kids think that. Even if the other parent is in the church and the kid just doesn’t recognise them! What’s wrong with a bit of gaslighting? They’re kids, they won’t remember and be messed up by this!

The Whole Church Divorces

Then there’s another option which is… weird to see in action but I’ve absolutely seen it. In the case of a Church Divorce, basically, everyone in the church picks one side of the conversation, and then only interact with that side of it. I’ve noticed this only happened in the churches which were small enough that only one couple could have a divorce at a time – larger churches, this strategy tends to create weird shattering spaces where people have to organise a kind of chart to work out whether or not the person they were talking to could recognise the existence of another person or not.

This technique is pretty solid in those smaller groups though. Because suddenly you’re not feeling like you did something bad or excluded a person, you’re not Abandoning Fellowship, or Punishing a Person. It’s actually much more like half the church gets social anxiety, and it can be as simple as ‘hey, did I talk to that person more recently than the other? well, I don’t want to talk about the d word, so… soo I guess I’ll just never talk to that other person, ever again!’

Remember, one of the things that God gives you is strength and courage, which you should never use to do anything modestly socially uncomfortable.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[father-jude]

The chuckle made him feel dirty. Like this man knew everything. Which Jude knew was not possible. Mathias wouldn't. At least he was pretty sure he wouldn't... He stamped down the panic and kept his face calm . His body as relaxed as he could. He frowned at the assurance that of course Jude knew who Alex was talking about. The mere fact that someone he didn't know was speaking to him about Mathias was intimidating. Even without a desire to be intimidating. If what the other man was saying was true then he had Mathias' contact information. Which meant that they might actually be friends. But if Mathias wasn't answering then he didn't want the other man to know what had happened. And he didn't know where he lived. Jude straightened but a little bit, still leaning on the broom. "It sounds like your friend might not want to talk to you right now." Jude paused and gave a small sigh, "You have to understand, Alex. Even if I do know him. I meet a lot of vulnerable people in my line of work. And I will do what I can to protect them and their privacy. So I can't give out personal information without permission first. But if it helps you... I'm sure he is fine."

——it was quite a relief they could move past the pleasantries and the small, polite, chatter; he loathed it, the pretentious nature of it, there being no actual reason to uphold a meaningless conversation. his blue eyes remained trained on the priest, studying his reaction upon hearing the name of the person he was here to find. well, he didn’t have to meet Mathias and he planned not to press more than it was necessary; he just wanted to know if he was alright, was all, as there had been radio silence for a long while now. his gaze did not stray when the priest looked down —unwavering, meeting the priest’s eyes when he looked up again. the response almost made him chuckle; however, his expression remained the same unreadable, stoic one. there was no hint of amusement at the attempt to seek out more details. he did not need to know how close he and Mathias actually were; judging by their conversation a while back, the priest was a significant man in the younger hitman’s life; he was willing to threaten him for it. “that won’t be needed. you know who I am talking about.” he responded in a matter-of-fact tone; nothing was menacing in his speech or mannerisms; he was not here to intimidate. “he hasn’t been answering any calls or texts for a while now; I want to know if he is alright.” he elaborated, an attempted to reassure the other man that he was not here to cause trouble.

[sheabeeprime]

My Wish (Is For You)

BY @sheabeeprime FOR @tonystankandpetieboi AS PART OF @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

RATING: General Audiences

RELATIONSHIPS: Peter Parker & Tony Stark; Pepper Potts/Tony Stark; Ben Parker & May Parker (Spider-Man)

CHARACTERS: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker (Spider-Man), Ben Parker, Pepper Potts, Happy Hogan

SUMMARY:

Peter was his name. Peter Parker. That was the child Tony was visiting.

Peter was a 9-year-old boy from Queens, New York. The file given to Tony by the Make-a-Wish Foundation described him as shy, yet fun loving and optimistic. From his own digging, however, Tony learned that he was also a trauma magnet.

When Peter was only six years old, both of his parents died in a tragic plane crash, leaving him to the care of his aunt and uncle, May and Ben Parker. Although May and Ben were noted as being extremely loving towards Peter, they only had two and a half years to try and help the grieving child adjust to his new life before he was diagnosed with a Grade II Juvenile Astrocytoma in his cerebellum.

OR

Peter Parker is just another poor cancer kid, but he won’t let that stop him from getting the great Tony Stark wrapped around his little finger from the moment they meet. Tony, on the other hand, just wants to protect this new precious presence in his life from all the hurt the world seems to dish out onto it.

LINK: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35881288

The drive from the Memphis International Airport to the St. Jude Children's Research Hospital is only supposed to take a total of 18 minutes, traffic and stoplight time included. A relatively quick and easy commute for most people, even with I-240 W being as packed as it was.

Tony’s mind wondered as he stared out the window, trying to distract himself by imagining what the other people on the road were thinking. Like the old man driving way too fast for his half-baked Honda Civic. Or the teenage girl with the hand-me-down Toyota Corolla that tailgated them until they got onto I-69. He thought about how he was probably twice more comfortable in the back of his brand-new Rolls Royce then they probably were in their comparatively crappy vehicles, yet he only a fraction as happy.

Tony wasn’t unhappy per se, it was rather that he was very anxious. And Tony hated to be anxious. What did he, a billionaire superhero, have to be anxious about? As far as the public knew, there were very few people on the planet that could level up to Tony Stark, let alone cause him to sweat.

‘Stark men are made of iron,’ his dad always said. But Howard Stark was also a fan of country music, so there was no trusting his judgement.

“You’re nervous.”

Tony’s head snapped to the direction of the woman sitting next to him. A fiery, powerful red head. CEO of maybe the most influential company in the world, that being his very own Stark Industries. But above all, she was the love of his life. No one put up with him like she did, and Tony knew he took that for granted every day yet could not be more thankful that she continued to stick around.

“I am not! I mean, come on. I’m Iron Man! I fight terrorists every day, hands on,” Tony retorted.

“But this is different,” Pepper replied calmly, hands folded gently in her lap.

“Yeah? How so?”

“Because this time you’re not fighting evil, you’re helping the good. Facing the innocent. And that makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?”

Tony scoffed, turning to look back out the window. Unfortunately, the passing cars were no longer serving as a useful distraction, especially from the burning hole Pepper was staring into his back.

Only a couple minutes passed before Tony finally gave in with a sigh, rolling his head back towards the brilliant woman beside him. Their eyes lock for a moment and Tony knows she can see right through his façade, like always.

Tony drops his line of sight downwards towards his hands, which had suddenly become a lot more interesting and a lot less piercing than her gaze.

“I’m not nervous. I’m anxious,” he admits, eyes still trained on his now sweaty palms.

“Boss, hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure that those words are synonymous in this context,” Happy cut in from the driver’s seat, glancing back at them through the rearview mirror.

“No. Being nervous implies there is something to be worried about. Being anxious is a state of being. You don’t need a reason to have anxiety,” Tony replied, practically regurgitating something one of his many therapists had told.

“So, you’re admitting you have anxiety?” Happy asked.

“What? No! I-” Tony started but was quickly silenced by Pepper’s delicate hands taking his own. She cradled them for a moment, before slowly bringing them up to her lips to place gentle kisses along each finger.

“Honey, it’s okay to be nervous or anxious or worried or whatever you want to call it. Many people find this sort of thing to be scary. Seeing sick and dying children, it’s not easy. And I know you. You don’t want to let this child down.”

Tony opened his mouth to reply but found the words were caught in his throat, leaving him just gaping at his girlfriend like some sort of mouth breather. When he was finally able to get the wherewithal to push his jaw back up, Tony used all the spit his dry mouth could muster to swallow his words back down, only to then try and regurgitate them once more, like a cow chewing its cud.

“I- I, uh…what if…no, I mean…”

The billionaire wasn’t usually lost for words. He was the type who could give a TED Talk on astrophysics while drunk off his ass with no dress rehearsal. But that, math and science, was something he knew, he understood. Always growing yet never changing. It took zero space in his brain to learn and apply those principals. Talking about his feelings, on the other hand, was significantly more difficult.

‘Stark men are made of iron,’ he could hear his father say again. Tony always wondered if there was any real truth to that. After all, how strong could they really be when that sentiment left them hauling around the weight of their emotional constipation everywhere?

“Breathe, Tony. Take a moment,” Pepper encouraged, running her hands through his hair. “Now, what is it you’re trying to say?”

“What if he doesn’t like me?” Tony finally said, voice meek.

To the genius’s surprise, Pepper actually laughed. It wasn’t one of those long belly laughs, but rather a short, breathy sound. The kind of laugh a person makes in disbelief.

“You’re worried that he won’t like you?” She asked.

Tony nodded.

Pepper shook her head.

“Honey, trust me when I tell you, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. And I know that alone won’t put your mind at ease, but have you stopped to think that how the kid is going to feel? That maybe he’s going to feel the same way about you? Actually, he’ll probably be more afraid of you not liking him than you are of him not liking you. At least you’ll have some sort of common ground.”

Tony looked up at her, eyebrows furrowed. No, he hadn’t considered that prospect. Unfortunately, the car lurching to a stop brought him out of the conversation before he could formulate a reply.

“We’re here, Boss,” Happy said.

Tony sucked in a breath. Steeling his emotions back into the mental lock box from which they came, the billionaire threw on his shades and flashed his companions a nervous smile.

“Guess it’s time to find out.”

Tony then took his CEO’s hand in his own a pulled them smoothly out of the luxury vehicle before Happy could even shift into park. Better to just face the music head on, he figured.

Although the Stark Industries PR team had been specifically instructed to keep their visit to the St. Jude Children's Research Hospital completely under wraps, Tony was still pleasantly surprised to find that the paparazzi presence was scarce. Only the publicity team invited specifically by the Make-a-Wish Foundation to cover the event seemed to be present, plus one or two local news stations that always hang around these locations anyway.

Off to a good start. I wonder how long that’ll last, Tony thought to himself.

Still hand-in-hand, the power couple strolled past the lackluster press personnel as they made their way towards the hospital’s front doors. There would be a time and a place for pictures, but right now Tony just wanted to meet this kid already.

As soon as they entered St. Jude’s, they were intercepted by a man dressed in beige trousers and light blue dress shirt, topped with a sleek navy suit jacket. His outfit, although nice, was nothing compared to the three-piece suit Tony was wearing. And yet, the way this man straightened his back and squared his shoulders before greeting them gave Tony the inclination that he thought himself a work of art.

This did not go unnoticed by Pepper either. She lightly squeezed her boyfriend’s hand before dropping it so that she could shake the newcomer’s hand instead. Tony knew what that meant: ‘Play Nice.’

“You must be Mr. Callaway. It’s nice to finally meet you in person,” Pepper said to the man.

“Ms. Potts. What an honor. Please, call me Austin,” he replied.

“The honor is all ours, Austin. We’re happy to be able to be part of this wonderful organization you’re so graciously volunteering with.”

Tony rolled his still shaded eyes. He hated formalities.

“Yes, the Make-a-Wish foundation is very prestigious. Great work y’all do. Really. But, uh, shouldn’t we get a move on? I was supposed to meet the kid at 10:00am sharp and it’s currently 10:03,” Tony said.

“Tony!” Pepper hissed behind a tight smile.

Callaway turned to Tony as if he had just noticed the man was in the room. As if Tony wasn’t the main event; the reason why they were there. The man’s calculating eyes scanned over the billionaire for a second before he put on a fake smile.

“Ah, yes. Mr. Stark. It’s nice to finally meet you. I know you’re a very busy man, so we appreciate you taking the time to actually grant this child’s wish,” he said.

Tony nodded curtly, the subtle jabs not going unnoticed. He knew exactly what this was about; why this man was acting so cold. Because the child he was seeing today had not been the first to request to meet Superhero Iron Man as their dying wish.

Iron Man was requested a lot, actually. And while Tony had never formally declined being part of the Make-a-Wish Foundation, he had used a lot of work arounds.

For example, he would often send the younger children that asked for Iron Man an actor look-like within a fully functional suit replica. The replica still all had the bells and whistles the kids loved to see but was safe to be around the critically ill. His go to actor was apparently really good with kids too, and a trained medical provider to boot. Never can be too safe. Anyway, Tony had been told the act had yet to disappoint, so why change the formula? He was sure his replacement was much more interactive anyway.

Kids older than eight that asked for the superhero, i.e. those at an age where they would be able to recognize the real Tony Stark from a double, would receive an invitation to get a private tour of Stark Industries. They were taken around and taught all about the current dealings of S.I., such as with prosthetics, nanotechnology, and clean energy. They would get to go to Tony’s personal museum featuring all his non-classified suit models, and even got to try on safe repulsor canon replicas. Towards the end of the tour, they were also allowed to play with prototypes projects, take selfies with the suits, and all went home with some piece of new Stark tech, like a phone or watch. That was always a crowd pleaser too.

Basically, Tony had always been very hands off when someone wished for Iron Man. He didn’t want to deny anyone an experience, but at the same time he was convinced any experience he could give would be better off without him. No one would end up disappointed this way. There is a reason why the saying “never meet your heroes” exists, much to the disgruntlement of the Make-a-Wish Foundation.

Except this kid was different. Because the kid Tony was slated to meet today didn’t request to see Iron Man. No, he requested to see Tony Stark. And while Tony had publicly boasted “I am Iron Man,” there was a difference. Iron Man was a hero. But Tony? Tony was a long-time villain. He was personally responsible for fueling the evil out there that Iron Man fought against. Why would anyone want to see just him as he was, especially a child?

Peter was his name. Peter Parker. That was the child Tony was visiting.

Peter was a 9-year-old boy from Queens, New York. The file given to Tony by the Make-a-Wish Foundation described him as shy, yet fun loving and optimistic. From his own digging, however, Tony learned that he was also a trauma magnet.

When Peter was only six years old, both of his parents died in a tragic plane crash, leaving him to the care of his aunt and uncle, May and Ben Parker. Although May and Ben were noted as being extremely loving towards Peter, they only had two and a half years to try and help the grieving child adjust to his new life before he was diagnosed with a Grade II Juvenile Astrocytoma in his cerebellum.

Tony learned that May and Ben Parker had used almost every dime of their savings traveling across the country in search for a doctor that would help them but were told time and time again that there was nothing that could be done for Peter.

That was until the St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital caught wind of their situation.

St. Jude’s took on Peter’s case with no charge to the Parkers. They even paid for May and Ben’s food and lodging while they stayed in Memphis to support Peter in his treatment. And it was this combination of generosity with the advanced research being conducted at St. Jude’s that led to Peter being able to have the first part to his tumor removal surgery just two months after his ninth birthday.

The second part of Peter’s surgery was set to happen on July 7, 2011, exactly one month before the kid’s tenth birthday.

And six days from today, Tony thought, checking the date on his watch.

Tony figured that’s why the Make-a-Wish Foundation had been adamant that Tony’s visit with Peter be scheduled for this week; because there was no guarantee he’d survive the second surgery.

And what a grim thought that was. Another reason why Tony wasn’t a fan of doing these sorts of visits. It was too sad.

Regardless, Tony wasn’t going to let Callaway get a rouse out of him. If he was going to be here and do this, he wanted to do it right. So, he let Callaway make condescending jokes and jabs as he led Tony and Pepper down the winding hallways of the hospital towards Peter’s room, all the while rambling about protocols and procedures in case of a fire or tornado.

Tony turned his attention away from the Make-a-Wish liaison to a special piece of paper he had folded in his pocket. It was a letter Peter had written to him to formally “wish” to meet him. Tony wondered if anyone told him how unnecessary it was, since the Make-a-Wish Foundation’s team would be the ones in charge of organizing everything on his behalf.

Dear Mr. Stank Stark,

My name is Peter Parker. I have brain cancer. My Aunt May says that makes my life hard and because my life is hard some good people have choosen chosen to grant me a wish. I don’t really understand why, but Aunt May says it is to make me happy. Good carma karma for being strong. But I don’t feel strong. She told me these people are magical, like a jeanie genie. That means they also have limits. Like, I can’t bring people back from the dead or make someone love me or have more then than one wish. I told my Aunt May that I wish to meet you. She said that was a bad wish. But I really want to meet you, Mr. Stark! I think you are so cool! I heard on the news that you made your first motor when you were younger then than me! I like to build things too! And you went to MIT. Aunt Mays says that is where smart people go and that I’m smart enuf enough to go there one day too! I hope I can do good things like you one day. May says I can do anything. I don’t know. I just want to help people. So my wish is to meet you so I can learn how. I am tired now, so I’m going to go to bed. May said the jeanie genie will only send this letter after I go to sleep. But I think that is just her way of getting me to rest, because I don’t think genies are actually real. Anyway, goodnight Mr. Stark.

From,

Peter Parker

“– and be careful not to step on his aunt’s toes. She will…Mr. Stark, are you listening?”

“Hm?” Tony replied, tearing his eyes away from the letter to look up.

Callaway looked ready to pop. Luckily Pepper was there for damage control.

“Don’t worry, Austin, I have all of that marked down. We won’t forget. Right, Tony?”

“Oh. Oh, yes, of course,” Tony replied absentmindedly, eyes glued on the door they had stopped in front of. “Is this it?”

Callaway took a moment to release all the hot air building behind his head before answering.

“Yes, that is Peter’s room. The nurses just woke him up, so he should be ready for you now.”

Tony sucked in a breath and checked to make sure his lock box of emotions was tucked away in right corner of his mind. At a painfully slow rate, Tony extended his arm as to open the door, but right as his hand hit the doorknob, one of Callaway’s bigger hands stopped him from turning it.

“You have some real nerve coming here today, you know. This must be one special kid,” the man said.

“He is,” Tony replied, shrugging Callaway off and, with every ounce of courage he had, finally pushing the door open and strutting through.

“I’ll have the nurses call you to see us out when we’re finished,” Pepper said as she trailed after her boyfriend, closing the door firmly behind her before Callaway could give a proper answer.

Peter’s room was a lot more colorful than Tony envisioned it would be. Each wall was painted to represent a different ecosystem. The wall opposite to the bed was painted like an ocean full of fish. The wall to the far left had wildlife of the African Savanna, while on the far right were creatures of the Amazon Rain Forest. Behind the bed looked like the Great Smokey Mountains filled with foxes, raccoons, bears, and squirrels.

It was quite impressive, to say the least.

Peter didn’t notice them come in at first though. It was clear in the way his face was scrunched up with his little tongue sticking out subconsciously, that the child was absolutely too engrossed in the crafting project he was attempting to complete to recognize that there had been a change in his surroundings.

Tony probably would have stood there awkwardly forever waiting for Peter to notice him if it hadn’t been for the two adults that were sitting next to Peter, whom Tony could only assume were Peter’s Aunt May and Uncle Ben.

Ben Parker smiled at Tony and Pepper like they were old friends, making it obvious that they were in the right place as he silently ushered them further in the room as a less enthused May Parker went to get her nephew’s attention.

“Peter, honey. You have guests,” May said, gently nudging Peter’s shoulder to snap him out of his hyper-focused trance.

“Hm?” Peter hummed, looking up at his aunt with what Tony could only describe as the biggest eyes he had ever seen. They were a warm brown color that reminded him of a little fawn. Of a little Bambi.

Since when did they make kids this cute? Tony asked himself, just absolutely taken with the kid before him.

“You have guests,” May reiterated to Peter, pointing at the CEO and billionaire combo.

Slowly, Peter turned his head away from his aunt until his eyes locked with Tony’s. For a brief moment that seemed to stretch into an eternity, the two just stared at each other. Galaxies passed between them, as if they were lightyears apart, but also just out of reach from one another. The poor cancer kid from Queens somehow making Iron Man feel small.

Just as Tony was about to crack under the scrutiny of this child, Peter’s face changed. It started at the boy’s big, round eyes. They seemed to gain a sort of spark, like embers flying from a fire lit deep in his soul. That heat then spread outwardly from the crinkling corners of his eyes to dust the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks with a rich rosy pink. But the biggest change in his demeanor was in the way Peter’s lips slowly turned upward. The smile that swept across his features seemed to keep getting wider and wider until there was no room left on his face for anything but the expression of joy.

Tony swore the room got brighter as the caliber of excitement radiating from the kid reached its peak. Tony swiped the shades he wore from where they rested on his nose, dying to drink in the light of the kid’s dazzling smile without the hinderance of his glasses.

For a fraction of a second, Tony, who had always made it his mission to stay away from kids, suddenly felt like he understood why people had the urge to have them.

Peter’s reckless brown curls of hair bounced on his forehead when he finally broke eye contact with Tony to look back at May, disbelief mixing with the happiness on his features.

“Oh My Gosh! Aunt May, look! It’s Tony Stark! Like, really Tony Stark! He actually came!”

“Mmm, that he did,” she said, a smirk playing at the edges of her mouth.

Peter’s head snapped to his Uncle Ben next. The older man just winked at his nephew, laughing at the way he just sat in his own bewilderment, completely flabbergasted over how totally chill with everything his two guardians seemed.

“Wait, you knew, didn’t you? Both of you knew! And you didn’t tell me?” Peter asked, accusingly, although his tone lacked any aggression about the situation at all.

“Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if you knew, now would it?” Pepper chimed in, stepping out from behind Tony.

Peter eyes dilated another degree upon seeing the powerhouse CEO.

“OMG, Ms. Potts is here too?!” Peter asked, directing his question at Tony this time.

The billionaire laughed. Not his typical sarcastic laugh or a bitter snort, but a real, pure sort of laugh he usually reserved for his most intimate moments with Pepper or Rhodey. He couldn’t help himself. The kid’s enthusiasm was absolutely contagious.

“It would seem so, bud,” Tony answered, flashing a blinding smile of his own.

Tony watched as the kid began to practically vibrate with an overflowing, uncontainable emotion of unknown magnitude. It was so intense that this hospital bed began to shake under the pressure of his bouncing and May had to step in, placing a soft hand on her nephew’s back to remind him to calm down.

Ben seemed less worried about it though, laughing at the child’s antics.

“Peter, why don’t you relax for a minute and introduce yourself, hmm? Maybe even ask a question or two. These two don’t have all day,” Ben eventually spoke up, whilst moving out of his bed-side seat so that he could offer it to Tony.

“Oh no, Mr. Parker, I don’t need to sit. I’m fine standing,” Tony said, trying to decline the generous gesture. But one stern look from Ben told him otherwise. Tony was sitting down before Ben could even offer a retort.

“Please, Mr. Stark, call me Ben. And I insist that you sit. It’s bad for your back to have to stand in one place for extended periods of time. May and I were going to go get some coffee from the cafeteria anyway while you two get to know one another. How do you take your coffee?”

“If I’m calling you Ben, then you should call me Tony. And thank you. I’ll just have it black,” Tony replied.

Peter grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest in a dramatic way, in what must have been an attempt to get the attention back on him.

Tony laughed again.

“I’m sorry, kiddo. Your family just so very charming. But I’m not here for them. I’m here for you. So why don’t you tell me about yourself, hm?” Tony said encouragingly.

Peter opened his mouth to reply as Ben, May, and Pepper shuffled towards the door in the background. Unfortunately, this did not go unnoticed by Peter, and suddenly, with his support structure leaving, Peter’s shyness kicked in.

The previously vibrant nine-year-old was now suddenly at a loss for words and shutting down fast.

Tony felt a bit of panic kick in, but before he could even think through his next steps, a voice inside of him took over.

“Hey, they’ll be right back. Okay? I promise.”

Peter still looked uneasy, so Tony allowed that voice in his head to continue its encouragement of the child, something he never figured he would ever know how to do.

“If it makes things any easier, I can introduce myself first, yeah?”

“Y-yeah. Okay,” Peter nodded.

Ben gave Tony one last thumbs up before finally leaving the two alone.

“Great! My name is Tony Stark. But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

Peter nodded again, letting out a little giggle.

Tony smiled. “Great. So, what’s your name?”

Peter gave Tony a confused sort of frown. Fortunately, Tony understood Peter’s body language better than anticipated. And while confusion was a cute look on the kid, the billionaire would much rather see him smiling.

“Yes, I also already know your name too, but I want to give you the chance to introduce yourself to me properly, just in case there is something else you would like to go by other that Peter Parker.”

This time Peter shook his head.

“Peter is fine, Mr. Stark. Thank you for asking.”

“You can just call me Tony too, you know?” the billionaire said.

Peter blinked at the man, as if he told some sort of preposterous lie.

“No, I can’t. May says it’s disrespectful to call an adult by their first name. And I don’t want disrespect you, Mr. Stark.”

“Hmm, I guess I’ll let it slide. But just for today and today only. You got that, tyke?”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony considered correcting Peter about calling him “sir” as well but decided against it. All he could hear was Pepper’s words from earlier: ‘he’ll probably be more afraid of you not liking him than you are of him not liking you.’ Continuing to harass the kid about being respectful was not a way to bridge that gap they were hanging dangerously between at the moment.

So, Tony moved on to the next easiest ice-breaker question he could think of.

“How old are you, Peter?” he asked.

“Nine, but I turn ten on August tenth!” Peter exclaimed.

“Yeah? That’s next month! What are you asking for?”

“I want all the Star Wars movies on DVD!” The kid answered without hesitation.

“So, we got ourselves a little Star Wars fan, huh?”

“Yeah! They’re, like, the best movies ever! We used to have them on VHS, but the VHS player sometimes eats the tapes, so now only episode six works.”

Tony let those words sink in, absolutely stunned. This kid was born in 2001, he shouldn’t even know what a VHS player is.

“VHS? What is this? The ‘80s?” Tony snorted.

“VHS players were around in the 1980s? But I thought that’s when TVs were invented?” Peter replied, making Tony nearly fall out of his chair.

“Bud, TVs were invented in 1927, not 1980. Maybe you should touch up on your history lessons.”

The billionaire really wanted to follow up by asking how old this kid thought he was, but decided he could only handle being made to feel old once in a day.

“Anyway, since Star Wars is your favorite movie series, tell me who is favorite character?” Tony asked, picking back up on the questions.

That got Peter’s attention. The kid looked around for a moment, as if a monster was about to pop out and scare them at any second. It wasn’t until he deemed the room safe that he went to answer the question, but not before pulling on Tony’s arm, indicating that the man was to lean in really close if he wanted to hear what Peter was going to say.

“You can keep a secret, right?” Peter asked in a hushed tone.

“Of course,” Tony said.

“Okay. I told Aunt May and Uncle Ben that it’s Han Solo, but I actually really like Princess Leia,” Peter confessed, a warm blush painting his cheeks.

“Do you mean like, or like-like?” Tony asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Peter looked disgusted.

I guess girls still have cooties at his age, Tony thought to himself.

“Gross, Mr. Stark! I just think she’s cool!” Peter said.

“Uh huh. Anyway, is there anything else you’re asking for? A set of DVDs isn’t much,” Tony said.

Peter hesitated.

“Well…I already know that they got me my own wheelchair. One of the nurses told me that I would need one since I might have a hard time walking because of where my tumor is that’s getting removed…but, and don’t be mad Mr. Stark, I know eavesdropping is bad, but I couldn’t help it when I heard them talking about how expensive wheelchairs are! I just…I feel bad asking for more.”

Tony didn’t know what to say. This had to be the sweetest and most amazing child to walk the Earth to date. It wasn’t fair that he was cursed to have brain cancer while so many other bratty kids got to go about their lives carefree. It didn’t feel right. And Tony, being the mechanic he was, felt the overwhelming need to fix this.

“Okay…what would ask for if money wasn’t an issue? If you could have anything in the universe, no questions asked, what would you want?”

“Anything?”

“Anything that money can buy,” Tony said.

“Then…Then I’d ask for the Lego Millennium Flacon,” Peter said.

“You like to build with Lego?”

“Yeah! Aunt May and Uncle Ben were donated a bunch of them by some church group when I first moved in. I’ve built so many cool things! I even tried to build a Lego Arc Reactor!”

“Really?” Tony asked.

“Yup! But I didn’t have enough blue pieces…anyway, I just think it’d be neat to have a real set, you know?”

“I mean, I’m hearing what you’re saying, but I’m still hung up on ‘Lego Arc Reactor,’” Tony replied.

Peter went flush with embarrassment, suddenly unable to make eye contact his idol. It was touching. Tony knew kids liked Iron Man, but to be so interested in his tech alone? It filled the man with a sense of pride. Tony always felt like he was doing everything wrong, but maybe this was a sign that he was doing something right.

Tony wanted to ask more questions about Peter’s Lego endeavors, but something fluttering in the breeze created by the hospital’s strong central air caught his attention from the periphery of his sight.

“What’s that?” Tony asked, pointing to the crafting project Peter had disregarded earlier when Tony had come in.

“The paper?” Peter asked back, confused by the sudden change in subject.

“Yeah. What were you doing with it?” Tony pressed.

“I was, uh, making a Möbius strip.”

“You know what that is?” Tony was baffled.

“I think so? It’s a surface with only one side and only one boundary curve, right?”

“Yeah…yeah, that’s right.”

Tony was examining the paper when it was snatched from him.

“Oh! Watch this, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, taking a pair of scissors and cutting down the center of the Möbius strip.

“When I cut the strip down the center, it makes one long strip with two full twists in it, rather than two separate pieces…and if I cut it again about a third in from the edge, it produces two linked strips! Isn’t that neat?”

Peter presented Tony with the two linked pieces of paper that was once one thick Möbius strip.

Okay, so not only is he insatiably cute and cotton candy sweet, but he’s a genius too? What have I gotten myself into? Tony thought.

“Very impressive, Peter. Did you know that, of these two linked papers you now have, one is just a thinner Möbius strip, the same length as the original, while the other is a thin strip with two full twists twice the length of the original?”

“Really?! That’s so cool! Dad never told me that part,” Peter said.

“You learned this from your father?” Tony asked.

“Yeah. We used to do all sorts of math problems together. He bought his huge book called Math GED practice. I’m not really sure what that means, but Dad said it was for ‘big kids.’ I thought it was pretty easy though. We would do four or five problems a night because Dad said it was important to keep the mind sharp.”

“So, just to clarify, you were doing high school level math at the age of six?”

Peter shrugged. “I guess so?”

“And you liked doing that?” Tony asked.

“Yeah! I think math and science is fun! And one day, I can use what I know to help people. Just like you, Mr. Stark!” Peter exclaimed.

“You don’t want to be like me, kiddo. Trust me,” Tony said.

Peter frowned. “Why not? You’re a superhero!”

“I wasn’t always. And I’m not always so good at it,” Tony confessed, thinking back to the disaster that was the 2010 Stark Expo.

“It’s okay, Mr. Stark. My mom always told me that as long as you do the best you can do, that’s all anyone can ask for. Are you trying your best?” Peter asked.

“I don’t think I can try any harder,” Tony said.

Peter smiled. “Then I think you’re good.”

Tony could feel his cheeks beginning to hurt. He hadn’t realized he was smiling so widely. He leaned in and ruffled the kid’s hair, making him giggle.

“You’re too good for this world, you know that?”

“Aunt May says that too,” Peter said.

“Then she’s a wise woman. But promise me something, yeah? Don’t try to be like me. Just try to be like you. Because you can be better than me. You can be Peter Parker,” Tony said.

Peter looked away, demeanor changing. The spark in his eyes was still there but it was glazed over such that his eyes looked glassy. His arms went to wrap around himself, and he hunched over a bit in a self-soothing gesture.

Tony felt like his stomach dropped as he watched the nine-year-old fight back tears. This was worse than watching a movie where the dog dies.

“Oh God, I’m sorry Peter! Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?” Tony asked, trying to push down the frenzy of panic bubbling up to the surface.

Peter sniffled and rubbed at his eyes for a moment before looking back a Tony with a soul-piercing gaze that the billionaire only thought his girlfriend could pull off. Except it wasn’t a harsh look, just sorrowful one.

“I’m okay. You just remind me of them,” Peter finally admitted.

Tony was confused.

“Of whom, Peter?” he asked.

“My parents.”

Tony had to let that sink for a second before realizing what it really meant. Tony reminded Peter of his dead parents. There was a bitter sweetness to that which Tony’s mind couldn’t quite comprehend no matter how much he ruminated on it.

Finally, however, it clicked.

Tony moved from his bedside chair to sit directly next to Peter on the bed itself. He wanted to offer the child some sort of comfort but didn’t quite know how. Until he started dating Pepper, Tony could have been what people call ‘touch starved.’ So, he was feeling extremely awkward about the situation to say the least.

Tony did know, however, that physical comfort was very important for a child’s development, or at least so said one of the many therapists he had acquired over the years.

Slowly, Tony opened his arms. They felt heavy in that position, and he had to focus on keeping his hands from shaking with anticipation.

Peter, however, was too absorbed in his grief to notice what Tony was doing. So, Tony took it upon himself to take his gesture a step further.

Moving at a snails pace as to make sure he didn’t startle the child, Tony draped on of his outstretched arms around Peter’s shoulders, leaving the other arm in it’s original position as an invitation to further the side hug into a full hug if needed.

And it was needed, because the next thing Tony knew, Peter was clinging to him for dear life, head buried in his chest as tears streamed down his face.

“Aw, buddy, come ‘ere,” Tony cooed.

The billionaire instinctually slid the arm that had been around Peter’s shoulders downward such that it was now stretched across his back. This way he could better hold the child against him. His grip also tightened to make the hug firmer. Meanwhile, his free hand went up to pet Peter’s head, smoothing his unruly curls back gently like Tony’s own mother used to do to him. The memory of how soothing that was driving Tony to continue no matter how weird it felt to cradle a child he had just met.

“It’s okay Peter, let it out.”

They sat like that for what could have been five minutes or half an hour. The stiches that held together the fabric of time blurring together as they were wrapped in the ambient buzz of the hospital room.

Tony found that he didn’t really mind. Actually, it was kind of nice. He found the love this child had was so innocent and pure. He didn’t have to wonder if Peter was faking it or using him or just liked him for Iron Man. Peter had hardly even mentioned his alter ego at all.

But, as per usual, all good things must come to an end.

Once he had gotten himself composed again, Peter pulled away such that he was still in Tony’s lap but was no long gripping the older man like a spider monkey.

“I’m so sorry if I ruined your visit here, Mr. Stark. I didn’t mean to,” Peter said, unable to meet the billionaire’s gaze.

Well, this just will not do, Tony thought to himself, the urge to ‘fix’ coming on strong.

Tony put a hand on Peter’s cheek and pushed gently to guide the kid into looking at him properly.

“Peter, look at me. It’s okay. I promise, you didn’t ruin anything. I understand what you’re going through. It’s not easy.”

Although his face was still red from crying, Peter no longer looked depressed. His eyes actually shone with a curiosity at the older man’s words.

“You do?” Peter asked.

Tony nodded. “I do. Well maybe not the cancer part, but I lost my parents as a kid too. I was much older than you, but still young enough to be considered an orphan.”

Peter sniffed. “Does it ever stop hurting?”

“Not completely, but it gets better. Life gets better. And I know you have so many good things ahead of you to look forward to,” Tony said.

Peter was silent for a moment.

“What if I die?” He finally asked, voice barely a decibel above a whisper.

“No no no. Don’t say that. You won’t die, okay? The doctors here know what they’re doing. I’ll make sure of it,” Tony replied, clasping the kid’s much smaller hand in his own.

“You will?” Peter looked unsure, but also hopeful.

“I will. Now, why don’t we talk about something else, yeah? I want this to be happy memory for you.”

Tony poked Peter’s nose, finally getting a giggle out of him.

“Yeah, okay,” he said.

“So…oh! I know! The Fourth of July is coming up in just three days. Are you doing anything special with your aunt and uncle?”

Peter shook his head.

Tony frowned. “They don’t do fireworks here?”

“They do. It’s just…after my first surgery, I can’t stand loud noises or bright lights anymore. Ben says it’s because my brain is still healing and that I’ll go back to normal one day, but I don’t know,” Peter admitted.

Tony gave Peter a smile of understanding.

“If we’re being honest, I also don’t like fireworks very much anymore,” he said.

“Really?” Peter seemed almost excited to have someone like him.

“Yeah. I haven’t really told anyone this, but my doctors say I have a condition called PTSD from the time I spent in Afghanistan. Basically, loud noises make me jumpy and sometimes even scared.”

“Me too! But…doesn’t that make being Iron Man hard?”

“Asking the big questions, huh?” Tony laughed, ruffling the kid’s hair. “Sometimes it does, but helping others makes it worth it. You seem to understand that, based on the letter you wrote me.”

Peter’s Bambi eyes went wide.

“You got my letter?” he asked.

“Of course I did. I still have it too. Actually, it’s in my pocket right now.”

“Sorry for all the spelling mistakes. May helped me edit it,” Peter said, blushing.

Tony chuckled. “It’s okay. Spelling is overrated anyway.”

Just then the door clicked open allowing for May, Ben, and Pepper to come filing in, laughing all the while.

“Hey, sorry we took so long. We were stopped by the press. They’re starting to get antsy. They really want to get pictures of the two of you together,” Ben said, pointing Tony and Peter.

“Hope it’s not cold,” Ben then added, passing Tony his coffee.

Tony accepted the drink, taking a long gulp from the cup as Peter watched him with interest. It was lukewarm, but the caffeine was worth it.

“You wouldn’t want any, it’s not very good,” Tony told his newest little friend.

Peter stuck his tongue out, nose crinkling in disgust.

“Oh, I know. I’ve had coffee before. It’s nasty.”

Laughter rang out from the group of adults at that statement. He wasn’t wrong. Coffee was very much an acquired taste.

Peter politely waited for the laughter to die down before he spoke up again.

“I, umm, was actually wondering if we could go outside. You know, for the pictures?”

Peter acted like he was talking to Tony, but his eyes were pleading for permission from his Aunt May.

May turned to look at her husband, who just shrugged.

“I guess if you’re feeling up to it, then fresh air isn’t a bad idea. You are going to use the walker just in case you begin to feel ataxic again. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. I will not have you falling,” Aunt May stated firmly, smiling when her nephew whooped with excitement.

“Yes! Thank you, Aunt May!” he squealed.

“Why don’t we step out while they get him ready, Tony,” Pepper suggested, moving towards the door.

“What? No! Don’t leave,” Peter cried, grabbing Tony’s hand as he stood up to follow his girlfriend out.

Tony opened his mouth to say something but May jumped in before he could get a word in wise.

“You don’t want him to see you get dressed, do you?” Aunt May asked.

Peter shook his head, but he was still unsure, hand relentlessly locked onto Tony.

May sighed. “How about this: I’ll go with Tony and Pepper, just to make sure they don’t leave while your Uncle Ben gets you ready. We’ll meet you outside in the garden. Is that okay?”

Peter looked between his aunt and his new friend. Uneasiness was still drawn over his features, but he did finally acquiesce, carefully removing his hand from around Tony’s.

So out left May, Tony, and Pepper, but not without Tony flashing Peter one last smile and a thumbs up.

At first, Pepper and Tony followed May to the garden in relative silence. It was an awkward silence, unlike the comfortable silence Tony and felt with Peter in the hospital room. No, this silence contained a sort of tenseness that floated around them in almost a tangible form.

Tony was the first one to crack, not surprisingly. Rhodey always used to tell him that he liked to hear himself talk. His current therapist theorized that he was using his voice as a way to drown out the negative thoughts in his head. Either way the end result was the same.

“So, May. Your nephew is something else,” Tony remarked.

“He was good for you?”

“The poster child for politeness. I was surprised though. His file didn’t mention anything about his intelligence,” Tony said.

May stopped and turned to face him, looking mildly offended.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

Tony raised his hands up and took a step back, similar to how a professional would recommend you walk away from an angry lioness.

“I’m trying to say he’s smart. Maybe even a child genius. Have you considered testing his IQ? I’d be interested to find out what it is.”

May instantaneously relaxed, a smile now playing on her lips as her thoughts wondered to Peter.

“He’s always been too smart for his own good. Just like his parents. Maybe we’ll get him tested one day, when all this cancer business is a thing of the past.”

“His parents were scientists, right?” Tony asked.

May hummed an affirmation.

“You know, when Peter told me we wanted to use his wish to meet you, I wasn’t so sure. I know you’re a superhero now, but the reputation you used to carry around still left a bitter taste in my mouth. Still, he was adamant, so I let him do it. I don’t know what I was expecting but the bar wasn’t high.

“Let me be the first to say, however, that you aren’t who they said you were. Peter is the best judge of character, and I can tell he is absolutely taken with you. If you were anything like I thought you were going to be, he wouldn’t have been, well, sitting on your lap laughing like he was when we walked in.

“So, I want to thank you. But not just for this. This isn’t the first time you’ve helped Peter. Do you remember the 2010 Stark Expo?”

Tony rubbed his temples, just the mention of that disaster causing a throbbing behind his eyes.

“Unfortunately. It was a complete disaster,” Tony admitted.

May let out a breathy laugh.

“That it was. I would know. We were there. With Peter too,” she said.

Tony was stunned speechless. He turned to look at Pepper who looked just as shocked as he was.

May continued. “It might has gotten out of hand, but Peter still had a blast. He ran around in a flimsy plastic Iron Man helmet and matching gauntlet for weeks. He would only take them off to shower, otherwise they were on his body. He even slept in the damn things.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Tony finally asked.

May sighed. “Because that was the last happy memory Peter had before everything began to happen that led to him being diagnosed with a cerebellar astrocytoma. Brain cancer. I have hardly seen him smile since then. That is, until today.

“I think that is part of the reason he wanted to see you. Besides the fact that he looks up to you for the obvious reasons, he associates happiness with you. You inspire him and give him hope. Coming here today, I can’t begin to describe how it’s going to change him. So, on behalf of not only Ben and I, but also his parents Mary and Richard, thank you.”

Not for the first time today, Tony didn’t know what to say. Because, as much as he wanted to go with the traditional ‘You’re welcome’ and get his conversation over with, he felt like he owed the Parkers so much more than that.

When he agreed to meet Peter, he wasn’t very excited. Tony was worried about the same things May just expressed she feared too. That Tony would be no good for him. Tony avoided children for that reason. He was too much like his father, too cold and standoffish. He would do nothing but mess them up.

Peter, however, proved him wrong. Meeting Peter…it provided Tony with some sort of catharsis that he didn’t realize his body was yearning for until it was given to him. The thought that this was coming to an end was more melancholic than he anticipated it to be. He actually felt guilty that he even considered the concept of being relieved in leaving, like he had this morning.

Tony had a lock box full of emotions, and apparently Peter Parker had the key.

Unable to articulate all of this, Tony did the only thing he knew how. He pulled out his checkbook and began making out some grand amount to the Parkers.

“Here,” he said, thrusting the check in May’s face.

May turned her nose up at the check though, pushing it away from her.

“I didn’t tell you that to get your pity money,” she said.

Tony frowned, trying to hand it to her once again.

“I know that. I know that. I just…look, you say I did a lot for Peter today, but I want to do more. Because, maybe, just maybe, he’s helped me too. And I, ugh, I guess I’m not ready to just walk away from that at the end of my time here. Not without at least trying to do something else. To make as much of a difference as I can.”

May crossed her arms over her chest, still refusing the check.

“Look if you want to make a difference, don’t do it just for Peter. Donate that money to this hospital. To St. Jude’s. Let them use it to help Peter and more kids like him.”

“I can do both you know. You can accept my money and I can donate to this research hospital. It doesn’t have to be either or,” Tony continued to push.

Surprisingly May laughed. “Man, Peter really left an impression on you, didn’t he? Look, I still don’t want your money, although you make a good argument for taking it. If you really want to help Peter, and Peter specifically, it would mean the world to him if you came to his tenth birthday party next month. If all goes well, we’ll be flying back to Queens for it so he can be with his best friend, Ned, for the event. Don’t worry though, Ned’s also a fan.”

“Yes! Yes, of course. I’ll be there,” Tony agreed, putting the check back into his pocket and offering his hand out to seal the deal.

“Really?” May asked, disbelief coating her tone.

“Really, May Parker. I could not be more serious than I am right now. Pepper can vouch for me. Right, Pep?”

Tony’s gave his girlfriend a pleading look, like a child asking his mother for ice cream at the mall. It was kind of pathetic.

The CEO gave him half smile and a shrug.

“It is true, Mrs. Parker. Tony is notorious for saying exactly what he means. He doesn’t have the wherewithal to sugarcoat things,” she teased.

Tony turned back to May with a goofy grin.

“See? So, you want to shake on it?”

May rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand, giving it a nice, firm shake.

“You better be there, Tony. I mean it. You might be Iron Man, but don’t think that means I can’t hunt you down.”

“I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

Overall, the press on the Make-a-Wish event went very well. Tony, Pepper, and the whole Stark Industries PR team were quite pleased. The pictures that had been taken for the paper of the billionaire and his new best friend are ones that Tony will treasure forever. In almost every image one or both of them was laughing. They may have taken a few selfies on Tony’s personal camera too.

Some of the more popular anti-Iron Man blogs tried to paint Tony’s visit to the St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital as cheap publicity stunt. Tony found that most people didn’t buy that version of the story though. Even some of those blogs’ most avid followers were skeptical.

It was easy to understand why. Tony Stark’s popularity before the visit was already at an all time high. He didn’t need Peter to boost the public opinion of him. In addition, if Tony had never shown up in person to a Make-a-Wish event before this, especially when his ratings had dropped after the Stark Expo, why would he suddenly do it now? There was obviously more going on behind the scenes than the desire for publicity. Not to mention, if Tony was able to make a child as happy as he made Peter, then who cared if it was for publicity or not?

Since there wasn’t much drama behind Tony’s presence at St. Jude’s, the press on it quickly died down and it wasn’t long before everyone forgot about Peter.

Everyone except Tony, that is.

The moment Tony returned to his home in Malibu, California, he had locked himself in his lab. He wanted to make a special head piece for Peter, one that included noise cancelling headphones and special sunglass, so he could comfortably enjoy the fireworks on the Fourth of July.

The apparatus he was making wasn’t just going to be a set of sunglasses attached to some random noise-canceling headphones though. No, there as more to it than that. In the span of a day, Tony built a very rudimentary A.I. for it. It’s function would be to monitor Peter’s his heart rate, breathing, blood pressure, and other factors while he wore head piece. If at any point the A.I. detected changes in Peter that might indicate he was getting anxious or having a panic attack, it would notify his aunt and uncle via text message.

The head piece had other functions too. Peter would be able to listen to music with them if he wanted to. Tony built in a couple of soothing sound options he could select from, or he could plug it into his phone. The glasses were made with Peter’s prescription in mind so they could be worn inside, but automatically transitioned to be tinted in the light outside. Tony also gave Peter the option to have manual control the tint density if the automatic transitional feature was too light or dark at any point. And last but not least, Tony made sure apparatus looked really cool so Peter wouldn’t be embarrassed to wear them. He was sure he’d be the talk of the hospital.

When he finished, he typed up a simple instruction manual and had the product overnighted to the Parkers. He threw in a slip of paper with his personal phone number on it too. He told himself he put that in there so the Parkers could contact him in case the head piece malfunctioned or needed to be adjusted, but honestly if they just wanted to call and chat, he’d be okay with it. Or if there was an emergency and they needed Iron Man…well, he didn’t want to think about that.

Tony also kept his word to Peter about making sure the doctors slated to perform his surgery on July 7 were qualified. He ran background checks on each and every member of his surgery team. If they even had one racist tweet from 5 years ago, Tony would be sure they were to be replaced. Luckily that wasn’t needed.

On the day of July 7, Tony probably had his secretary call the research hospital 30 times to check on the status of Peter’s surgery. And when the hospital stopped answering his company’s phone number, he used his personal number. HIPPA violations be damned, he would find out how Peter was doing.

At 3:04pm July 7, he got a text message from an unknown number: Peter’s surgery went well. They think they got all the remaining cancer. He’s currently resting and has a great prognosis. So would you please STOP harassing the hospital’s receptionist. Also, here is the address to the birthday party. Don’t be late. ~May

Tony already had a penthouse in New York for when he needed to visit and oversee the construction of the Stark Tower. But, that same day, Tony made arrangements with the pilot of his private jet to get him there on August 9, the day before Peter’s birthday, just so that he wouldn’t be late to the party on August 10.

He ended up late anyway.

“Oh my God, Happy, did your mother never teach you how to wrap presents?” Tony practically screamed whilst pacing around in his penthouse.

“What are you talking about, Boss? You’re the one who asked me to for help, not the other way around,” Happy grumbled as he tried to properly fold the corners of the wrapping paper around the enormous Lego Millennium Flacon Box.

“I told you, my hands are shaky.”

“Yeah right.”

Against his better judgement, Tony checked his watch.

11:55am.

He was going to be late. He was going to be late, and May was going to kill him. How would he even explain that? ‘Sorry, May. I figured out how to make whole new chemical element in a day but was stummed at the prospect of wrapping Peter’s gift.’

Yikes. At least it couldn’t get any worse, Tony thought.

And then Pepper walked in.

“What is taking you boys so long?” She demanded.

Pepper didn’t need an answer though, because when she finally saw what the two men were huddled around, the answer became pretty self-explanatory.

“Really you two? You know what, don’t answer that. Just get out of my way, I’ll fix it.”

Pepper practically pushed past the two men to get to the box. She could feel every muscle in her eyes roll at the disaster they managed to create. Thankfully it wasn’t too far gone, and within minutes, Pepper was able to turn the ugly mess of paper and tape into something presentable.

“I love you,” Tony said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Yeah, yeah. Now come on, let’s go!”

And with that they raced to the party. Happy definitely broke some traffic laws along the way, but if you’re not caught did it actually happen?

Anyway, when they finally pulled up Tony checked his watch again.

12:10pm.

Less than 15 minutes late. Nice. Hopefully May will find that forgivable, Tony thought to himself, still wasting no time as he rushed inside, Pepper trailing not far behind.

The Parkers had decided to have the event at Peter’s friend’s house, since it was small and familiar to the kid. Tony’s presence was supposed to be a surprise, so Tony felt bad about just barging into a stranger’s place without any warning, but he did it anyway.

Luckily, May was at the door waiting for him.

“You’re late,” she said monotonously.

“Fashionably so,” Tony retorted, flashing a guilty smile.

“Uh huh. Just give me that and go say hi. Peter’s in the next room playing video games with Ned,” May said, taking Lego Millennium Falcon off his hands.

Tony, not wanting to upset her further, did as instructed.

Just like at St. Jude’s, Peter was too engrossed in what he was doing to notice the billionaire walk in. Tony was okay with that though. It gave a minute to just watch this kid and take in his presence.

Much to his surprise, Peter was wearing the head piece Tony made him. May hadn’t mentioned it, but he guess that meant it worked. Even with it on though Tony could tell all of Peter’s hair had been shaved off. Not that he cared. So long as Peter was alive, what he looked like didn’t matter. And not only alive, but he appeared happy and healthy as well.

Tony smiled fondly at the way the kid physically leaned over as the car was racing in the game went around a turn, tongue sticking out, completely in a hyper-focused trance.

Tony waited for the game to end before clearing his throat, which at least caught Ned’s attention.

“Oh my God! Peter, is that Iron Man?!” Ned exclaimed.

At the mention of the superhero, Peter dropped his controller and snapped his head towards where Tony was standing.

“Mr. Stark?” he asked in disbelief.

“In the flesh.”

Tony felt his heart clench as the same spark of life that had been there when they first met could still be seen shimmering in the kid’s Bambi eyes.

“You came! I can’t believe you came!” Peter cried, opening his arms for a hug.

That was all the invitation Tony needed. In three long strides he was across the room and in the boy’s arms. The part of his heart that with clenching before was now swelling with a sort of parental joy as the kid nuzzled into his neck.

“Don’t act so surprised,” Tony said. “I will always be here to support you. Always.”

Always.

[kevin-day-is-bi]

For my dear @frenemies-to-lovers ​, who is my Knife Wife!! This did turn out on the long side, but I hope you like it!

It’s a Human Thing

Cardan was absolutely, completely, and totally in love with the girl in front of him. He was also not able to focus on how amazing she was because of how odd his human pants felt against his skin. Jeans, Jude had said, thrusting them into his arms. They, she had told him, were going to buy presents. And now they were in this store, this store that was bigger than the High King’s Palace in Elfhame, where everything was bright red. Jude had a list clutched in one hand and was pushing a shopping cart, as she had called it. 

“Okay,” She said, turning the cart down an aisle. “We both need to think of something for Taryn. I am going to get her a new scarf. A human scarf.” She turned to me. “You need to get her something, too.” 

Cardan frowned, staring at what they were walking past. He pulled one off the shelf and popped off the lid. It was a candle.

 “It’s a scented candle.” He looked up at Jude. She was leaning on the cart and smiling slightly. “Sniff it.” 

He raised an eyebrow at her, then sniffed the candle lightly. It smelled like vanilla. Cardan hummed and looked at the other candles on the shelf. He pulled another one off and smelled it. It’s light, jasmine. He held it out to Jude. 

“Would Taryn like this?” She smelled it and nodded. He tossed it in the cart and they kept shopping. 

This was going to be Jude and Taryn’s first Christmas since they were stolen. In Elfhame, they celebrated Solstice. They celebrated it much like they celebrated everything else, with drink and dancing until dawn. Cardan had been assured that they still had drinking and dancing for Christmas, but that there were a few important differences. 

Vivienne and Heather were hosting a party Christmas Eve and Christmas day, and Jude had invited the original Court of Shadows to come. Somehow, three humans and six fae were going to fit into Heather’s incredibly small apartment. When Cardan had voiced his worry, Jude had given him a look. 

Cardan received a lot of looks from Jude. There was a ‘you are being very annoying’ look, a ‘you need to stop drinking now’ look, a ‘you are making me very turned on in the middle of this important meeting’ look. Cardan felt he gained a new look at least once a week. This was a new one. He was pretty sure it meant ‘if you ruin this for me I will cut off your head with Nightfell’. So he had simply assured her they would easily find the space and changed the subject. 

“Ok!” Jude said, tossing a soft-looking midnight blue scarf into the cart. “Ready to go? We still need to wrap them.”

…

“Explain the hat.”

“It’s a human thing.” Cardan raised his eyebrows, looking skeptical. Jude sighed and plunked the red-and-white hat down on his head. “There’s this story they tell kids, I don’t know where it came from, but this fat old man  goes around the world Christmas night and delivers presents to all the kids who have been nice, and coal to all the kids who have been naughty.”

“Is he a fae?” Jude made a face.

“Not that we know of.”

“But he is magic?” 

“Yep.” 

Cardan tilted his head, soft black hair falling over one eye. Jude had her hair pulled back in a thick knot, and Cardan found himself wishing he could run his fingers through it. 

Decorating was more fun than Cardan had thought it would be. There was a tree - not real, Vivienne had said with a scoff. Real ones were messy, - and several garlands of holly strung over windows and doors. Heather had pulled out several boxes of decorations from somewhere. Jude had held the plastic and glass ornaments in her hands every time before she hung them up, seemingly trying to comprehend their existence. Cardan was helping, although he wasn’t entirely sure he was doing it right. There didn’t seem to be much of a pattern, it was more of ‘hang things up where you want’. 

Oak was also helping, though he was doing more talking than hanging. Cardan found himself fascinated by tales of mortal school; hearing a fae child talk about lunch lines and playing games felt like the whole world was slightly tilted. 

“Oh, and in art class we made Christmas decorations! We cut out snowflakes and glued them to blank CDs and decorated them with Sharpies and gems. I brought mine home.” 

Oak ran to the door and dug around in his backpack, pulling out the ornament. It was slightly misshapen, with very bright red and green scribbles on it. Cardan raised a brow, but Jude grabbed it and hung it up right in the front. 

“I hope you aren’t ruining the tree,” Vivienne called from the kitchen. Cardan examined the tree. It had several empty spots and looked as though they had simply thrown the boxes at it. 

“No,” He called back, and Oak snickered. Vivienne came in balancing a tray of mugs and began passing them out. It was hot chocolate with white floating things in it. 

“What are these?” He asked. Heather, having followed Vivienne in, gasped.

 “You’ve never had marshmallows?” She looked horrified, and distantly Cardan wondered if she was as horrified as him on the first night Jude had kissed him. He doubted it. Oak jumped up and down, sloshing his hot chocolate down his arms. 

“They’re amazing! They’re fluffy and light and sweet and you have to try one.” 

Cardan hesitantly took a sip, catching a marshmallow as he did it. After a moment of thoughtful chewing, he nodded. 

“I believe I do enjoy marshmallows,” He said, trying to get another one with his next sip. Oak giggled. 

When Cardan looked up, he noticed Jude giving him another look. He had seen this look before. ‘You are incredibly attractive right now and I am struggling not to throw myself at you with wild abandon’ was the general meaning of it. Cardan was not one to leave and let lie, so he smirked at her, showing just a flash of teeth. Her chin jutted out, challenge ripping through her eyes. 

Cardan went for another sip, but someone knocked on the door. Vivienne went to get it, but when she opened the door she inhaled sharply. 

“It’s a fae,” She said, voice quiet. Jude and Cardan looked at each other and walked over. It was indeed a small fae, short and furry with distressingly long teeth.

“My King,” The creature gasped, bowing. “My Queen.”

“Yes, what is it?” Cardan was annoyed. He had hoped not to be called upon, just for tonight and tomorrow. 

“Your pardon, Majesties. I was told to bring this to you.” The fae held out a cream envelope with a shaking hand. The thick red seal on the back had already been broken, but Cardan could see it was Madoc’s. 

Next to him, Jude drew in a sharp breath. Cardan unfolded the letter and scanned the few short lines of text. Wordlessly, he passed it to Jude. She gave him a quick look and read the letter. Cardan was carefully still, shoulders tight. Her head jerked up to look up at him. 

To Their Majesties,

I will arrive at sundown. I am excited to see the girls and Oak. I am bringing presents.

…

“He’s coming?” Jude stared, wide-eyed, at Vivienne. Vivienne was leaning against the counter, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. Her own cat eyes went huge, and she pushed off the counter. 

“He isn’t supposed to be.” Vivienne set her mug down and put her hands on her hips. “He certainly isn’t coming into this apartment.” 

Next to her, Taryn pursed her lips and shifted. She fixed her attention on her own cup of coffee and took a sip. 

“Taryn?” Cardan cocked his head slightly. “How do you feel about Madoc coming over?” She mumbled something into her coffee, not looking at any of them. Jude spun to her, eyes narrowed. 

“What was that?” Taryn lowered her cup and reached a hand up to push her hair over her shoulder. She still wasn’t looking at them. 

“I may have invited him.” 

“What?” Vivienne and Jude spoke at once. 

“Well, he raised us! This is his first Christmas and he’s in the mortal world and we haven’t payed him any heed and I wanted to be nice.” Jude stared at her, horrified. “It’s not like he can ruin the whole day. Even he doesn’t have that much power.”

“He almost took over all of Elfhame.” Jude grabbed Taryn’s shoulders, shaking her a little. “He ruined our childhoods and almost ruined both Cardan and I’s reign! Why would you think he can’t ruin Christmas?!” 

Taryn looked taken aback. Cardan crossed his arms. She really should have thought this through. 

“I thought-” Taryn bit her lip. “Maybe Oak would want to see him.” Everyone craned their necks to see into the living room where Oak was furiously typing on a laptop. Jude was the first to snap out of it. 

“Maybe, but if they miss each other a half-hour visit in the park does just fine.” There was something in Jude’s voice, and Cardan turned to look at her. There was anger and annoyance, but Cardan could see in the tightness of her mouth eyes that she was worried, as well. Worried and scared and hurt. 

Taryn kept stammering, but Cardan stopped paying her any attention. He watched Jude, watched the annoyance and anger crest, watched her eyes turn stormy. She turned and left in the middle of Taryn’s pleading to Vivienne, who was just watching with narrowed eyes. Taryn stared after Jude. Cardan followed, nodding slightly to Vivienne as he went. 

Jude stormed to her bedroom and stood by the small window. Cardan shut the door quietly behind them and perched on the bed. He remained silent, waiting for her to speak. She broke after only a few short moments.

“I don’t want him here.” Her breath was coming short and fast as she crossed her arms. “I don’t care if it’s childish. This is my first Christmas since I was six, our first break since Eldred stepped down, the first time we are together and not being attacked, not fighting, not having to plan and plot and handle Orlagh or Nicasia or Locke. I wanted a time where I could be with Vivienne and not be mad at Taryn and see Oak smile.”

She broke off, tilting her head back slightly. When she spoke again, it was softer than before. “He has been a presence in my life forever. Even before I knew it, my life was ruled by him. I just wanted this nice human holiday without him.” 

Her voice rose, and she lashed out a hand and punched the wall. The plaster cracked ever so slightly, and Jude grunted softly. Cardan rose and skirted the bed, going to stand by her. He took her hand gently. Her knuckles were red, and one of them had split open. He glanced up at her face. 

To say she was angry was to say the sea around Elfhame was wet. True, as he couldn’t lie, but vastly underplaying. Cardan had never wished more that he could lie, just so he could hold her and tell her Madoc wouldn’t ruin anything. But Madoc was in the habit of ruining things. Jude sniffled. Cardan looked at her in surprise. 

“I’m not going to cry,” She said sullenly. “Unless it’s out of anger.” 

Cardan hummed and pulled her close. He tucked her head under his chin and rubbed her arms. Cardan had found out that when Jude was upset, physical touch grounded her. Otherwise, she got in her head and spiraled into anger. Cardan, having the opportunity to touch someone he loved for the first time in his life, was all too willing to comply. 

“I can’t stay here,” Jude whispered. “Not with him, not in the same apartment. I don’t want to fight, and I know he’ll ruin it.” She sighed, shoulders hunching under his grip. “I suppose we can go back to Elfhame.” She didn’t sound thrilled. Cardan wished he could just snap his fingers and disappear Madoc. 

“If we go back to Eflhame,” Cardan said, mumbling into Jude’s hair. “We could spend the night in my rooms. We need not deal with anyone else.” She pulled back and wrenched her head towards the window. 

“I don’t have a choice. I simply cannot be in the same apartment as him.” Cardan straightened. Spending Christmas alone was not the worst idea, but it was for Jude. Cardan wondered…

“Come back to Elfhame, and I will try to distract you.” Jude flashed him a smile. 

“You always do such a good job.”

…

Jude opened the carved door. Hair dripping down her back from her bath, she slipped into a blood-red doublet and thick green tights. She sighed, relishing the feeling of the velvet and wool against her skin. It felt like home. 

She squeezed out her hair, then braided it back. Cardan had said he had to do something, then left her to bathe. The bath hadn’t been pleasant, all her anger and fury and worry over Madoc coming out in great heaving gasps. When she had dragged herself out, she had sworn not to think about him for the remainder of the night or for Christmas tomorrow. 

Someone knocked on her door, and she rushed to open it. She blinked in surprise. It was Fand, out of her usual armour and in a black doublet. Fand bowed. 

“Your Majesty. The King asked me to find you.” 

Jude reached back inside the door and found her boots, the comfortable worn leather supple beneath her hands as she laced them up. Then she followed Fand, slightly confused. Fand did not lead her to the throne room, instead leading her to a small dining room attached to Cardan’s rooms. 

When Fand nodded at her and opened the doors, Jude was taken aback. Inside, someone had put up a large pine tree, and it was covered in bright berries and soft glittering cloths. The whole room seemed to shimmer, and wreaths were flung over every chair and onto the mantlepiece. But what was more shocking were the fae inside. 

Surrounding the table were Cardan, The Bomb, The Roach, The Ghost, and Grima Mog, all dressed in fineries. Fand slunk by her and joined them, cerulean skin standing out against the soft browns and greens. The Roach even had on a velvet Santa hat, though it looked odd on him.

Cardan stepped forward, holding two spun glass cups of wine. He handed one to her, taking a sip of the other. Jude shut her mouth, which had fallen open slightly, and gave him a grin. 

“Merry Christmas,” He said, the words sounding odd in his mouth. Jude laughed, taking Cardan’s goblet and setting both of theirs aside. She flung herself at him, hugging him tightly enough he gasped for breath. The Bomb cheered loudly as Jude kissed him. She reveled in the softness of his mouth. He put his mouth to her ear and breathed. “I love you with all of my shabby, worm-eaten, and scabrous heart.” 

“I love you, too,” She whispered back, laughing again and clutching him tighter.  

Merry Christmas!!!

Thank you, @jurdannet​ and @jurdannetrevels​, for hosting this!

[misterghostfrog]

So I was reading someones post about what if Jon went back in time to save everyone, and he managed it. He kept Martin away from Prentiss, he Kept Sasha alive, Tim never even know the unknowing existed and he never had Jons paranioa to ruin him. But They never knew, there was never those moments of bonding between the terror. Martin never had that moment when he realized Jon wasn’t just his shitty boss. And sure the assistants were close, but there was no room for Jon. And it gave me thoughts.

Under the cut bc I started to Ramble and it got Long, warning; its Big Sad Hours down there. No happy endings here.

Jon solves all these problems before they start, he fixes it without anyone ever knowing. The assistants are blissfully unaware, maybe he stops sending them on ‘real’ statement followup. The archives are a normal, safe job for all of them. Sometimes it gets too much, pretending he doesn’t know them. So he’ll record, mostly for himself. Sometimes for them, though he’ll never share. He sticks them all in Gertrude's old storage locker, where he knows they’ll never be found.

And then something goes wrong. He knows the unknowing can’t work, of course it can’t. But Nikola doesn’t, none of the avatars know. And Nikola still wants her skin. She still wants his skin, actually. And she’s not afraid to play dirty to get it, she’s hands-on like that. Because why stop at the archivist when he’s got so many lovely ignorant assistants?

So he fixes the problem before she can make good on her threats, she can’t be killed that easily. He knows. But she died during the unknowing, and there are some pretty simple steps to follow to replicate that result. He knows the easiest way to make sure it works is also a death sentence for him. But that’s a simple choice to make. Alright no, it’s not. He’s terrified of death, of dying. He doesn’t want to die, but he can lie to himself. He can delude and say maybe he’ll get another chance. And just in case, he makes sure the assistants know they can quit now.

Tim, Sasha, and Martin don’t know what to make of the news that their boss died mysteriously in an explosion. They know even less what to make of the notes he left them.

Clearly the ramblings of a very unstable man. They all knew Jon was a bit off but this... Well, they all know there’s something weird about the job. But the apocalypse? Really? 

Sasha believes some of it, she’s worked in artifact storage. She’s seen what this stuff can do. But, well. Jon’s never come off as the most stable person, and with no proper proof to back up any of this there’s no reason for them to follow suit. After all she’s known lots of people to quit the institute, she even knows for a fact that Eric Delano did it when she was rooting through employee records for perfectly rational legal reasons.

Then Martin gets called up to Elias’s office, and gets the news he’s the new head archivist.

He tries to turn it down, but he’s offered a pay-raise and a promise that he can step down anytime if he doesn’t feel suited to the position. Elias just sees so much potential in him.

Martin tries to feel flattered and not thoroughly terrified by the way Elias says potential. He takes the promotion, after all, he can always step down if it’s too much.

He offers as much when he finds out Sasha probably should have been given the position, but she turns him down. It’s not his fault their boss is a sexist old bastard, and at this rate he’d probably just turn around and give it to Tim.

Things are normal for a few months. Until slowly a strange noise starts to be heard around the archives, a weird sort-of squishing sound with no source. Along with a metallic scent of meat. 

An infestation, of course. They’re getting the problem worked on, or so Elias says. But aside from the occasional exterminator coming in to ‘take a look’ nothing ever seems to change. Weird statements start showing up on Martins desk, surrounding meat and twisted up things, eaten alive and wrong. Suddenly he understands how Jon went off his rocker so easily.

It’s hard to believe all this supernatural stuff as it’s suddenly getting crammed down his throat, after so long of the archives being normal in almost every sense of the word it’s like missing a step on the staircase. The more awful statements he finds- that Tim and Sasha confirm -the more he realizes how much his boss was hiding from them.

He wants to quit, he thinks about it, he tries to think about it. But he just, can’t.

It’s another or two month before it happens. Meat and bone and gristle erupt from the floor, taking on horrible mangled shapes of almost-humans reaching out with hands full of teeth and hungry.

They all survive, though Tim gets eaten up a bit more than the rest of them. And they’ll all have nightmares for the rest of their lives. They’re alive.

And they find Gertrude’s body, though none of them know how to feel about it. They’ve realized by now there’s something to Jon’s nonsensical ramblings. And they’re long past regretting not quitting before this all happened.

There’s a section of document storage that got uncovered during the cleaning,an old cot that was shoved behind some of the shelves, and a box that had a few sets of clothes, an old teacup, and a key. The cleaners say they burned the clothes, but the cup and the Key are given to Martin for him to keep to return to whoever left their things in the archive.

Neither of those items belong to Tim or Sasha, so they all assume they belonged to Jon.

They start following Jons footsteps, they find out he was a suspect in an arson case surrounding Carlos Vittery’s old apartment. Nobody was there except one unidentified body. He was arrested for trespassing on a dock, though no charges were filed. There was an incident that ended in the near arrest of one Jude Perry, though no charges were filed and she soon fell off the grid. And then he exploded using C4 he had no way of getting, Nothing concrete, no proper genuine evidence except a series of weird encounters their dead boss had.

Martin Decides to try and hunt down Jude Perry, it takes some time. He has a very nice cup of tea with one Micheal Crew. Who points him in a general direction and is just a bit weird about tall buildings.

Martin finds Jude, and asks her about Jon. She laughs at him, of course. But she tells him anyway. Jon was trying to have her arrested- no, not arrested. Killed. Officer Tonner would have seen to that, he knew one of the Hunt could do her in, well. At least of Officer Tonner’s sort anyway. Jude resisted, naturally. He escaped her clutches only barely, by running. Like a coward. And she escaped the policewoman by playing innocent. She’s still on her tail though, damn dog. It’ll be a long time before she’d rid of her, but she knows better than to run. Oh, he doesn’t know what any of that means, does he? Oh he really doesn’t, how sweet. Just a little baby archivist- she was going to kill him after this. But watching him stumble into his own ruin will be so much more fun.

She sends him on his way with a burn.

Martin is terrified, he genuinely tries to quit. Almost manages it before his computer shuts off. The others try too, and then they all have a lovely freak-out together.

They decide to try and talk to Detective Tonner, which proves easy. She’s the partner of the one who’s been interviewing them. She comes to the institute, and they ask her about Jon. She tells them they believed he was responsible for killing Gertrude, seeing as he was next in line. Martin accidentally Compels her into a statement, and then into admitting she's mostly just saying he killed her because dead men don’t put up fights.

She threatens him right then and there, though Basira comes in and intervenes before anything happens. He files a dispute with the station, and avoids the police after that.

Basira brings him some of the tapes, she says it’s an apology. He’s pretty sure she’s just trying to get him to drop the dispute in the weirdest way possible. He does learn some about Gertrude though, and through her what he’s dealing with. And something about an ‘unknowing’

A man named peter Lukas visits the institute, one of the doners. Elias says he wants to see how the archive runs, Lukas says a few choice words about it. And Martin tells him in the most polite of terms to shove off. Lukas threatens him, and very briefly makes him forget everyone he’s ever loved. And then tells him he got off lucky, and that Elias should have picked a better archivist. You can hardly trust someone so childish to run something as important as this now can you.

Daisy visits him in his home, and threatens him in much more physical terms now. She tells him if he tries to do what he did to her again he’ll get more than a scar.

After that it’s a bit unclear how he gets marked by the next two (Curruption, Stranger.) but he does.

There’s a delivery, a few weeks after the stranger mark. It’s not supernatural in any sense, just a young woman dropping off a small box in the archivists office. She says her name is Georgie, and no, she doesn’t know what’s in the box. She just had an old friend tell her to deliver it if he didn’t check in after a bit. Then she found out he died on the news, and then she hadn’t wanted to deliver them- clearly whatever was in the box was going to get someone killed. And she wasn’t scared of it, she wasn’t one for fear, but the thought of putting anyone in danger made her skin crawl. But she didn’t want it in her house, and she refused to be haunted be this box forever. And there was no reason to defy the poor guys apparent final wishes- wait, why was she saying all this again?

In the box was tapes, a dozen or so of them. All addressed to ‘the next head archivist’

It’s Jon’s voice, on the tapes. Talking to who he apparently assumes to be an entire stranger, explaining the fears. And how Smirkes 14 wasn’t wrong, but wasn’t right either. It tells the next archivist to avoid eyes, paintings, doodles, abstract representations, and to keep playing dumb. There’s a lot out there, and the more you know the worse it gets. There’s no fighting, don’t struggle the nets already around you. There’s a way out, but you’re not going to like it.

It gives an odd image of Jon, the man who awkwardly tried to make small-talk int he break room, only to shuffle away after it fell flat. Carrying this world-ending secret on his shoulders. Stiff, awkward Jon. Grim, sad Jon. not so far apart but still so far outside of what Martin had known about him.

What had Martin known about him?

Tim decides to quit, Sasha stays. Elias hires Melanie. Who turns out to be another connection to Jon.

Melanie says he was kind of a prick, he belived her about her Sarah incident, but refused to give her library access. Probably because he was sexist, or maybe just a dickhead. She’d been trying to learn more about her encounter for ages. And this was finally her chance. They try to explain the way out but she won’t listen.

Martin starts following Gertrudes tapes, things about the unknowing have been popping up on his desk lately, and it sounds like Jon was right about an apocalypse. He goes to america, gets a bit kidnapped, and meets Gerry. He offers to help, and then asks about the unknowing. Gerry points him towards the storage locker. And when he gets back He and Sasha and Melanie check it out.

It’s mostly empty, apparently somewhat recently cleared out. Though in the corner there’s a large box of Tapes. There has to be dozens of them, and when they pres play it’s Jon. Talking to them. Except it’s not them, it’s another version of them, and something this version.

And there’s another Jon to add to the mystery of a man he was. The jon on these tapes isn’t stiffly awkward or forcedly professional. He’s open, sad. He cries, he laughs at memories they don’t have. He apologizes, a lot. Too much really. He talks about time travel, about forgetting faces and losing friends.

“Sometimes I-I think- I can’t help but be a bit... upset. At how unfair it all is. You’re all happy and laughing and together and i’m- 

i’m alone. 

I suppose it must be some sort of- cosmic Karma, I doomed the world so in this new one bright an new I pay my penance in isolation.

Or maybe it’s the other way around. I doom the world- suffer its horrors, and get a little bit of time to taste what humanity would be like.

Or maybe i’m just not that likable without an apocalypse.

Probably says a lot about me either way.

Is it bad that I- I sometimes consider letting things play their course? W-without any of you dying of course I just... I suppose it is bad, to want to end the world because you’re lonely. Just because i’m a bit sad doesn’t mean the planet should suffer, no... maybe i’ll try and reconnect with Georgie, it’s been... well. No. Perhaps best not.”

Sasha says that if she knew she would have at least brought him out for drinks or something. 

But they did sort-of know didn’t they? Not about the apocalypse, but about the loneliness. After all, nobody chats so awkwardly in the break room because they have a thriving social life.

“I’m going to kill Nikola tonight- i’m not going to die. I’m not. I didn’t die last time, a-and there’s no reason for that to change. T-there isn’t. I’m going to try and be a safe distance from the blast this time, too. But... Well, it’s not like I have anyone to miss me if I do go.

I suppose... Martin, if you’re listening to this- I... I miss you. You always did say I should be more open with my feelings, and it’s weird. To miss someone who’s right there. T-to look at a face and see a friend and a stranger. To love someone you’ve known for years who doesn’t even really know who you are.

It’s all very stranger, ironic really. Considering what i’m about to do.

I love you, and I miss you. I know you’re not listening, even if I did die you’ve probably long since quit. I hope you’re happy, whatever you’re doing. Happy and safe. All of you. 

And maybe you are listening, maybe... maybe we do become friends, maybe you actually choose to talk to me someday. Maybe I tell you about all of this and... And you don’t think i’m mad. Maybe you let me take you out to dinner and we’d be together again. We’d never be like before- not that that’s a bad thing what with the eldritch horrors. There’d be bits missing, memories we don’t share- but, it would still be you... It’s always been you, I think. And maybe I've decided to give this to you as some sort of silly romantic gesture.

A-and in that case. I love you, Martin Blackwood. More than you’ll ever know.

[HE SIGHS]

When I come back, i’m recording over this.”

[CLICK]

But he didn’t come back. He died that night. He died loving Martin, who never even really knew him beyond passing awkward conversation. Martin doesn’t know how to feel about it, besides guilty that is.

The tapes point them towards Georgie Barker, the woman who delivered the other set to the archives.

Georgie doesn’t really want anything to do with them, she knows whatever they’re stewing in got Jon killed. But she tells them about her encounter with The End, though she’s tetchy afterwards. Martins finally starting to understand this whole compelling business and is feeling pretty sorry about it. He redirects, he starts to ask about Jon. Who he was, really. What she knew he was like.

They talk, Martins curiosity is part Eye and part knowing that someone loved him, really, really loved him. And feeling like he missed out, like he skipped a train he hadn’t known was there. And wanting to know what kind of person would- could love him the way Jon did. And why that kind of person could end the world.

They talk, Georgie explains why they broke up (clashing ideals, he didn’t believe in the supernatural and her trauma was so inherently tied to it. He was a sleep-clinger and she kicked when she dreamed) And why it took so long for them to break up (Jon was funny once you learned to get his jokes, the Admiral loved him, he had a weird way of caring that was really sweet) they talk about things, Georgie lets him hang out with her as long as he promises to keep the supernatural out of their conversations. And how is Melanie doing by the way?

Sasha has a hard time splitting her time in the archive and helping Tim. He can manage himself of course but it’s hard knowing he’s sitting in her flat alone, he’s getting back into publishing though. Sleeping easier now he knows that not only is he free of the eye, but Jon very much killed the thing that killed Danny. He only wishes he could have been the one to pull the trigger. Sasha is getting more involved though, the eye has it’s own grip on her.

They finally confront Elias. They know it won’t do any good, Jons tapes explained what he was, who he was. But they’re frustrated. Low on options. Jon never really explained what the apocalypse was- if Martins learned anything from the other tapes it’s probably because he forgot, thought he did somewhere and didn’t.

Elias isn’t entirely surprised that they’ve figured it out, he knew something was going on. Though he wasn’t quite sure what. He claims he knows what oncoming apocalypse Jon was talking about, and that he was likely underestimating the amount.

He sends them to Ny-Ålesund. And Martin views the black sun. Gets briefly taken hostage by Manuela. And gets “saved” by a man who pops out of a door to stab her.

He says his name is Micheal, and he’s not there to help. He does his whole distortion bit, confuses them. Stabs Martin when he tries to take his statement. Says he was going to kill him, but what happens next might be much better than death. And leaves after stating that he’s very excited to watch how the rest of this plays out.

They go back to the institute, and Elias says he must have been wrong. Oopsie. Anyway the web is planning a ritual you should go check out the spooky house from all these statements.

They meet Annabelle in person, Martin gets marked by the web.

This continues on for the end the slaughter and the buried. They finally confront Elias again about these wild goose chases, he claims innocence but he’s done it enough times they don’t believe him. They stop trusting Elias. Not that they ever really did, but they stop listening to him.

Melanie isn’t as angry as she was. Though she is still angry. She didn’t go to india so no ghost bullet, but she’s still trapped. Though she knows how to quit, it’s been a scary idea. But the longer she stays the more she realizes how low she is on options. So she quits.

Martin is angry, he’s exhausted, he’s confused. Nothing makes sense. And another one of Elias’s goddamn doners is visiting. A weird old man who, when he shakes his hand, makes him feel like he just dropped off a rollercoaster at a million miles into empty nothingness. He laughs when Martins regained himself, and says that that tricks better than a buzzer every time.

He visits Georgie again, he’s thinking about quitting. But he can’t figure out what the apocalypse he’s supposed to stop is, because according to Jon it’s pretty bad. And he’s the one who can stop, or maybe start, it. But he doesn’t know what it is.

He talks to Georgie about Jon some more, it’s funny, to grieve a man you already knew. Except four years too late. There’s a sort-of helpless frustration to it, every time he talks about Jon he wishes he could be learning this first-hand. Not from someone who hadn’t spoken to him in years before this.

He also finds himself glued to the tapes, he can relate, in a way. To Jons loneliness. To have a person so, so close but so far away. He wishes he could meet the Jon on the tapes now. Then neither of them would have to be lonely. But Jon is dead. And Martin... Martin might love Jon. Jon, who died years ago. A dead man who apparently loved him enough to consider ending the world for the chance to have a real conversation with him.

He goes back to work, frustrated and so, so lost. A million questions that genuinely can’t be answered. There’s a fresh statement on his desk. It’s a statement of Jonah Magnus, regarding stopping the apocalypse.

Certainly a goddamn roundabout way of giving Martin information, but he’ll take it.

He reads the statement.

The world ends.

Sasha, Tim, Melanie, and Georgie all get their own domains. And wander free in the hills of suffering. Martin is alone, well and truly alone. He ended the world, because he was too stupid and sad to read a few extra paragraphs before starting the tape.

But Jon went back, didn’t he? He went back in time and stopped this once. Maybe Martin can too. Maybe he can stop the flesh from attacking, maybe he can stop Melanie from joining the institute. Maybe he can meet the real Jon.

He goes back, he does it. Nobody remembers but him. 

Nobody remembers but him. 

And things keep happening he can’t have predicted.

Worms, Sasha is gone, Gertrude. It’s all wrong. And Jon isn’t the Jon he knew, he doesn’t know Martin, he doesn’t even like Martin. Nobody is the person he knew before.

He is alone. And things keep happening he can’t have predicted, worms tables and paranoia. He starts recording. Trying to follow in Jon’s footsteps and leave information behind, easier to access this time of course. In his flat, and he’ll have the key sent to the archives if something goes wrong. He’ll record until Jon trusts him enough to believe him, Maybe he’ll even stop him before it’s too late and he’ll never need to find out what happened at all. Maybe he can't get close as he was to everyone, but he can keep them safe.

He doesn’t get to finish his recordings, he wasn’t careful enough. Jonah catches wind and half the tapes are destroyed when he dies in a mysterious housefire. But what’s left does get delivered to the archives.

And the cycle continues.

[laequiem]

No tricks, only treats [ONESHOT]

/ Cardan and Jude join the rest of the family to enjoy Halloween in the Mortal World.

Part of Tales from the Mortal Realm, a collection of random moments in the lives of the Queen and King of Elfhame.

"Is it strange that I find you attractive dressed as such?"

I was looking at myself in the mirror, assessing my outfit, when Cardan sneaked into the room. His training with The Ghost was paying off, he was as silent as ever.

"Strange? Yes. Surprising? No."

Read it on ao3

"Is it strange that I find you attractive dressed as such?"

I was looking at myself in the mirror, assessing my outfit, when Cardan sneaked into the room. His training with The Ghost was paying off, he was as silent as ever.

"Strange? Yes. Surprising? No."

I saw him prowl towards me through the glass. He slid his arms around my waist, staring at me through my reflection.

Today is October 31st and Oak insisted we join him in celebrating Halloween. Of course, this means we all need costumes. I decided to go as the one character I knew more than anyone else.

Cardan.

I looked through his wardrobe for my outfit. It was quite hard to find a top that was loose enough to account for my breasts, as most of his clothes were tailored to fit him perfectly. I also found a dark blue coat, its collar covered in iridescent feathers. I gave up trying to find pants in his collection, as my hips would never fit, and just wore a pair of black leggings with black combat boots.

"What do you mean, dear Jude?"

"The only thing you love more than booze is yourself."

He raised his brows, making a show of looking offended. 

"Your capacity to lie to yourself will always impress me,” he said then plucked a kiss to my temple, “I love you more than I love wine."

I don’t think I will ever get over him being  caring . It felt as if he was a completely different person from the boy who would disturb lessons just to get attention.

Cardan turned me to face him, then inspected my face. “Something is missing.” He took my hand and directed me to his personal vanity. He opened the drawer and pulled out some cosmetics. He lined my eyes with kohl and coated my lashes with dark mascara. I suppressed my laugh when I saw he was so concentrated that he had stuck out his tongue. Then, he took out some glittery gold powder and applied it on my cheekbones. 

He took a step back to look at his handiwork and smiled.

“And the final touch,” he said as he plucked his crown off his head and put it on my head at an angle, “Voilà!”

I looked at myself in the mirror. I did not bother with any kind of wig. I put my hair up in elaborate braids, letting a few short curls hang in a few places. Yet, even without his signature dark hair, I still looked like him. I made faces at myself in the mirror, trying to get his grin right. 

Finally, I got up. “Your turn now, dearest Cardan.”

When Heather learned that Cardan would be coming too, she started suggesting outfits for him. She even went as far as drawing some of them. Something about his otherworldly looks inspired her. Maybe it's the tail, since a lot of her designs included it: a devil, sexy cat man and my personal favorite, a cute puppy.

In the end, I chose my own, petty idea. I walked in the closet and pulled out the outfit I had the servants clean for the occasion. 

“A King needs his Queen,” I grinned as I revealed the Queen of Mirth dress and crown.

Cardan threw his head back laughing. “You sure know how to hold a grudge.”

Thankfully, my husband was a team player, and he went with it. Even in this, he looked strikingly handsome. Or pretty, I guess. Unfair.

We landed in Maine in the early afternoon. It was strange to be awake so early, but Cardan did not seem bothered at all. We met up with Vivi, Heather, Oak, Taryn and Garrett at the entrance to FallFest, some kind of harvest festival that was held every October in the local park. It had everything from harvest contests to food stands, a section with typical carnival games, a small hay maze and even a haunted house.

I was not surprised to see my eldest sister dressed up, she went crazy for Halloween every year. Vivienne would dress up for a week straight before Halloween, even when she still lived in Elfhame. She was wearing a tight black bodysuit with a tail and claws as well as a black leather mask with cat ears. Heather dressed up as some kind of … plant lady? She had a short bodysuit made of green ivy leaves, green stockings and a long red wig. Oak was with them, wearing a reddish pink shirt with a big yellow star on it. I can only assume they went for pop-culture references I am unfamiliar with.

The real surprise was seeing my twin Taryn and her quiet lover also dressed up.

"What are you dressed as?", Cardan inquired, cocking his head to the side, "You ought to have dressed as Jude, you have already proved to be so good at it."

I snapped my head at him and slammed my foot as hard as I could on his. He was joking, of course. But the peace between me and Taryn was still fairly new. We mostly kept to ourselves and rarely talked. Garrett was back with the Court of Shadow and we were friendly, but he kept his professional and personal lives completely separated.

Cardan was hopping on one foot, scowling at me like he did not understand why I was upset. Taryn understood, though. She was sheepishly looking at the ground.

"I… I'm sorry for tricking you, Cardan."

I tried finding something to say to end the awkwardness. I wanted Cardan to apologize for what he said, but I knew he would not. Fae don't apologize.

Thankfully, Vivi broke the silence. "C'mon guys, we're here to HAVE FUN!" she complained, "What ARE you two dressed as?"

"Phantom of the Opera." Garrett replied.

"Nerds."

"Says the one dressed up as Catwoman." Garrett mocked.

The bickering continued, though less mean-spirited than Cardan’s original comment, as we walked down the main path. Our first stop was the pumpkin carving station. Each couple got their own pumpkin to carve, though Vivi and Heather’s pumpkin was mostly Oak’s handiwork and the couple making sure he did not stab himself. Taryn and Garrett made some intricate flower design on theirs, Garrett being the one doing the carving of course. As for us, well… Cardan had creative ideas, but no skills with a blade, and my skills were more of the  stabbing  variety. We settled on giving our pumpkin a traditional jack-o-lantern face. 

After the effort of carving pumpkins, we were starving. Oak was complaining, dragging his feet on the ground so much that Vivi and Heathers were holding both of his hands to pull him along. Behind them, I saw Taryn with her arm looped around The Ghost's.

I was suddenly very aware that Cardan and I were the only ones not holding hands.

Nobody knows us here. We needn't keep the appearance of the power couple, together to rule and nothing else.

I took my hand out of the pockets of my borrowed coat and tentatively brushed my fingers against Cardan's hand. I saw him whip his head towards me, and I blushed when I witnessed the surprise in his face. Soon enough, he smiled. One of those smiles he kept for me and only me, blissful and happy. The smile he gives me when we have the time to spend hours cuddled together in bed, enjoying each other's presence.

Cardan took my hand and squeezed. I squeezed back.

We spent the rest of the afternoon eating good food, trying to guess the weight of giant pumpkins and visiting a haunted house. Cardan was fascinated by the weird human traditions and absolutely ecstatic about the food. Pumpkin-spiced flavored food will become the new trend in Elfhame, judging by his reaction.

When the sun started to go down, Taryn and Garrett left for Madoc’s, who decided to try giving out candy to the trick-or-treaters. Heather and Vivienne had initially volunteered to take Oak trick-or-treating himself, but when one of their friends invited them to a party, we offered to take him instead. Oak was excited to spend more time with me and “Uncle Cardan”. 

I had not gone trick-or-treating in...10 years? Maybe 12? Since my parents died. Cardan, obviously, had never gone. So, dressed up as each other, with Oak dressed as some cartoon character, we roamed the residential streets of the city to beg for sweets.

“If it is called ‘trick-or-treat’, does that mean I can make bargains if someone refuses to give me candy?” Cardan asked as we watched Oak go up to a house.

I gave him my best ‘I’ll-strangle-you-if-you-do’ stare. “No. No turning people into cats, no curse making them hear imaginary insects buzzing around their ears.”

“Why is it called trick-or-treat, then?”

Vivienne told me they had to explain this to Oak, too, a few weeks ago. Someone at school had mentioned being excited to go trick-or-treating and my brother had been very confused.

“I don’t know.”

Cardan hmmed and smirked, “Perhaps the Folk were involved when the holiday was first established.”

I crossed my arms.

“If that’s the case, not all traditions need to be brought back.”

He laughed at that, then reached around me and pulled me closer to him.

“You win. I won’t trick anyone,” he crooned in my ear, “but I want a kiss for being well behaved.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically. “So needy.”

Once again, I had to remind myself that nobody knows us here. Nobody recognized our costumes today: in the mortal world, dressed as each other, we were only The Guy In An Ugly Dress and Fashionable Emo Boy. Nobody knew we are King and Queen of Elfhame, therefore there are no expectations to be the hedonistic king and his murderous wife.

I slid my hand behind his neck and pulled him down. I felt him smile as I captured his lips with mine.

“Ew, gross!” Oak’s voice came from the other end of the driveway, “Stop that, come here.”

Reluctantly, we pulled away from each other and looked towards the house. Oak was in front of the opened door, talking with a couple. 

“Honey, look,” the tallest woman exclaimed as we walked down the driveway, “She’s dressed as High King Cardan!”

“Oh my god,” the other one replied, sounding so very human, “that sounds kind of profane. Do you think he would have her hung for this?”

As I looked at the two women, I realized that Oak had stumbled upon the house of a Fae couple. They saw through his glamour, and he saw through theirs.

“This is my sister Jude,” Oak started, “and this is my Uncle Cardan.”

Both females had gone completely still and were staring at Cardan with wide eyes. Simultaneously, they bowed deeply. 

“Forgive us, Your Majesty. We weren’t expecting you.”

“We so rarely see our kind around here,” the shorter one said nervously, “we… wanted to meet who little Oak was with.”

“We have tea, if you would like.”

I dared a glance at Cardan and noticed he seemed amused. Was he delighted to make them uncomfortable?

“That won’t be necessary,” he said as he took my hand, “My  wife  has us on a tight schedule, we have other houses to visit. Have a nice evening.”

I caught the emphasis on  wife  and realized they only recognized him as royalty. ‘  Your Majesty ’, singular. I could tell from the two females’ expressions that they also understood their mistake. I felt bad for them knowing they had no ill intent, probably unaware of the situation in Faerie. Yet, I could not help the grin that crept on my face. I worked hard to become High Queen. I fought and killed my way through the ranks, almost dying. Multiple times. I made decisions that will haunt me until the day I die. I am High Queen, and the Folk must know. 

“It was nice meeting you,” I say as I take Oak’s hand, “You are welcome to visit us at the palace if you wish.”

My memories from before Faerieland were to blurry, I did not remember getting so much candy. Did Taryn and I get that much? How could we possibly have eaten all of that? Cardan and I each had a smaller bag, only accompanying Oak to some of the doors, but Oak had multiple full bags. Once he went to sleep, Oriana was more than happy to give us some. She had learned how bad candy was for children’s teeth - even little Fae kids. She filled little bags for us to take back to Elfhame. 

Like anyone eating candy for the first time, Cardan went a little crazy. He wanted to try everything. Faeries might be different in a lot of ways, but I now have proof that chocolate is addictive even to them. 

The High King of Elfhame ate so much candy that he fell asleep on the couch, to the former General’s dismay.

[mongeese]

In honor of the TMA finale, I want to talk about Jon. Or rather, how the Web and Jonah Magnus used Jon. A few episodes back there was this line:

ANNABELLE CANE: “We found the one we believed most likely to bring about their manifestations. We marked him young, guided his path as best we could. And then, we took his voice.”

Something about that last sentence struck me. It just felt so horrible, at least as bad as Elias orchestrating all of Jon’s trauma. I didn’t know why, out of all the terrible things in tma, “we took his voice” was the thing that felt the most terrifying, but it did. Still does. 

I realized, though, that almost all of Jon’s trauma relates to his body, with a few exceptions. Think about it: The Hive burrowed into him, Jude Perry burnt his hand, Daisy kidnapped him and held a knife to his throat, Nikola Orsinov kidnapped him and threatened to take his skin, Jared took his rib, he was literally killed in an explosion - et cetera. Most of his marks are physical. 

That’s not to say he didn’t get psychological trauma from all of that, of course he did. My boy has been through a lot. Way too much. But through all of it, he had his voice. That was his own, or so he thought. In season 2 especially, it’s really easy to tell he used the tapes as a defense mechanism, and I personally think it’s a way for him to exercise some power over his situation. In episode 39, there’s the line: “I refuse to become another goddamn mystery.” Even if he can’t control what’s happening, he can record it. Save it, so that no one else has to live through what he did, or at least they’ll be prepared. At times, that’s his only way of fighting back against the shitty system he’s been placed into. 

That’s why it’s so devastating that the Web took that from him. More than that, Jon’s recordings have been serving the Web all along. His body has been violated time and time again, and the one thing he had left - his voice - turned out to have been serving the same powers he’s been trying so hard to fight again. The Magnus Archives is a horror podcast, indeed.

After the finale, I also think that’s part of why Jon was so determined to end the world and trap the Fears. Part of it was a selfless desire to do good, sure, but a part of it was also one last desperate attempt to wrest control of his life back from the forces that have been manipulating him since the beginning. The Web/Jonah Magnus took everything from him - I think learning they took his voice too was the last straw. He wanted to hurt the things that had hurt him, he didn’t want to give in to their grand scheme that had wrecked his life. And I want to be clear, I absolutely do not blame Jon nor do I think that makes him a bad person. He is 100% justified in seeking revenge! He deserves it!

I do think it’s interesting that in trying to recover agency over his life, Jon was prepared to essentially give up his humanity. I mean, the pupil of the Eye is pretty eldritch monster. He tells Martin, “What’s left of me after this, you can’t see that.” He wouldn’t be serving the powers, but he’s sacrificing himself and his world to stop them. Now, that decision isn’t informed solely on Jon’s desire for bodily autonomy and/or revenge, but I do think that’s a significant part of it. I guess that to me, it shows that Jon would rather give up his body and his life entirely than be used any more than he already has. That just proves even more how deeply he was affected by all the manipulation, how much he hates that even his voice, his main defense, was used against him. 

That leaves two interpretations of the actual outcome, which is that Jon gave in! He let the Web win! On one hand, you could think of that as a defeatist narrative, that after all of his struggle Jon wasn’t able to take his life back. However, I prefer to take a slightly more optimistic approach. I maintain that it was very much his decision in the end; he wasn’t being used or manipulated, he just genuinely wanted to be with the man he loved, whatever the cost. I think that means that Jon was ready to give up all his (rightful!) anger, all his self-sacrificial ideals, his complete determination to destroy the Fears, for Martin’s sake. That doesn’t change the fact that it’s an incredibly tragic, deeply terrifying story, but it is a more poetic end, in my opinion. When it came down to it, nothing was more important to them than being together, and that at least is something beautiful, regardless of whether or not you think they made the right decision. 

[acciomanorian]

Pumpkin Spice Lattes

Here’s a little drabble that I did for day 5 of Folktober. I hope you all enjoy it!! I know that it’s not technically day 5, but I finished, and wanted to post it.

As I stepped out of the apartment I shared with my sister, my immediate reaction was to pull my jacket closer to my body. I was definitely not prepared for how cold it was outside, although I should’ve known for the middle of October. I had worn a nicer jacket, more of a suit jacket than a normal one, for a mock trial I had in my Crime and Punishment class. As a pre-law student, I took care to wear appropriate clothing for mock trials, especially the ones that counted for 25% of my grade.  

Unfortunately, I was going to have to suck it up for the walk to campus, because I just didn’t have enough time to go back up the four flights of stairs for a warmer coat. Especially if I wanted to get a warm drink from Campus Coffee, my go-to coffee shop. 

All around me, people were bustling around, hurrying to reach their destination, and I quickly joined the throng of people heading towards Elfhame University. It was only a fifteen minute walk, but the frigid wind gave the appearance that it lasted forever. Taking a peak at my phone, I was relieved to find that I still had 20 minutes before class. I turned right, into the direction of Campus Coffee, only to walk into a cup of some scalding beverage. 

“Shit!” A deep voice said, obviously the owner of whatever concoction had just spilled on top of me. “I am so sorry. Here, have some napkins.” A hand stuffed with napkins moved into my periphery from where I was looking down at my jacket. 

How the hell am I supposed to get this stain out before my presentation? I continued to stare at my jacket, pulled out in front of me, as the stranger began to my jacket with the napkins. 

“Thanks, but I’ve got it.” I grabbed the napkins from his hand, finally looking up at the man trying to help me. “I don’t need help.”

“You may not need help, but maybe I can offer you a coffee. After all, I just spilled mine on you, the least I can offer is to get you a drink of your own.” His dark eyes sparkled in amusement, and also hope. Hope that I will take him up on his offer. I had to admit, the stranger in front of me was really cute, his black hair long and flowy, pulled back into a navy beany. He had a guitar sticking out from his back, although from the looks of the binder in one of his arms (which happened to also be covered in coffee) he wasn’t a music major or anything. 

I checked my phone again. 10 minutes. “Yeah, I think I will take you up on your offer for some coffee… I mean, that’s where I was heading anyways.” 

“Great!” The stranger’s smile was wide as he threw his old coffee cup into the nearest trash and made a grab for my bag, where it had fallen on the ground. I picked it up before he had the chance to, with the assurance that I could carry my own bag. “I’m Cardan, by the way. Cardan Greenbriar.”

“Jude Duarte,” I responded, receiving a look of appreciation from Cardan. I wonder what that means.

As we started walking Cardan continued to look at me, as though he was trying to figure something out. By the time we reached the doors of Campus Coffee, I was beginning to get a little concerned. “Is there something you want to ask me?” I asked as I pulled open the doors, relishing the heat that came from inside the tiny coffee shop.

“No, I mean, yeah… Just you’re the infamous Jude Duarte. Everybody on campus talks about your ruthlessness during mock trials, and how you’re going to be the next best lawyer in the world.”

“Is that all they say about me?” The line of the people in front of us isn’t long, just two people, although it seems like the person currently at the register had ordered the whole store.

Cardan shook his head, smirking. “Well, I also hear that you kick ass at collegiate level fencing, and know how to handle your alcohol.” 

“Now the alcohol might be a bit of a stretch, especially if anybody sees me when I’m drinking with friends, but I wouldn’t say their wrong about my fencing. I’m not the fencing team captain for nothing.” It was true… At the last fencing tournament, I had won gold against all of the opposing teams, including our rivals, the Undersea. In fact, under my captain ship, Elfhame’s fencing team has been number one in the country for three years. 

“Now what about you, Cardan. You seem to know a lot about what I do, but I’ve never heard of you.” I tilted my head as we took a step closer to the counter.

Cardan laughed, and I have to admit that it was a beautiful laugh. “I’m really not surprised that you’ve never heard of me. I’m a pre-med student, dual enrollment with Elfhame Hospital and all that. In my spare time, I’m part of a band, I play guitar.” He pointed to the guitar behind his back. “I also write music and poetry, and I love to read.” Cardan smiled, showing his teeth again. 

It was nice, getting to know Cardan, especially since all my life I had been surrounded by the lawyer types. My father was a lawyer, my mother a lawyer, even the majority of my friends were in law school with me. Ever since I could remember, I had spent my childhood in their offices, helping them with cases. It was something I was passionate about, but it was still nice to meet somebody with a different perspective towards life, who even though they are in med school, can find their passion outside of the competition. Usually, I only had my twin, who was a biology major against all of my parents wishes (which I really didn’t understand because there were a lot of opportunities for bio grads). 

We stepped up to the counter, and Cardan let me speak first. “A pumpkin spice latte, hot with almond milk.” 

At first, I couldn’t quite place the look that Cardan gave me, but then I realized it was joking mockery as he ordered the exact same thing, in almost the exact same tone. I shoved him as we moved over to wait for our drinks, although there was a smile on my face. 

“Really, a pumpkin latte. Really screams basic white bitch, doesn’t it?” I shoved him again, although there was no maliciousness to it.

“Basic white bitch all you want. It’s what’ll get me through my trial today, and I need to win this trial. It's 25% of my grade.” The barista at the counter called our names and we reached over for our coffees, but didn’t immediately part ways. 

“Listen, Jude… I really enjoyed this with you,” Cardan said sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit I’m sure, and something that I would totally use against him if we had been in court. “Do you maybe want to get coffee with me again? I promise, I won’t spill any on you this time.” He grinned softly, as I let out a soft laugh.

“You know what? Sure. I would love to do this again. How about tomorrow night, there’s a coffee shop downtown that I love, and they have the best chocolate crullers.” As he nodded, I hefted my bag on my shoulder and began to walk towards the door. 

“Wait!” I heard as I was walking out the door, back into the frigid air. It wasn’t as cold earlier, but that could also be because of the warmth of the coffee in my hands, or the increased beating of my heart caused by a certain boy. “Can I at least get your number?”

“If you show up tomorrow night, I’ll give you my number,” I called from where I was standing. With that, I turned back to the direction of Justice Hall and began to walk towards class. If anybody saw a smile on my face for the rest of the day, they would assume it was because of my award winning mock trial. After all, nobody expects the die hard lawyer type to fall in love with the musical doctor, right?

Here’s my tag list. If you want to be tagged, just let me know. 

@fantasyfox101

@ireallyshouldsleeprn

@theoceanfaewriter

@snusbandxknifewife

@angelofmusic223

@slightlyrebelliouswriter23

@clockworkgraystairs

@sweetlyvillainous

@b00kworm

@poeticbrownmermaid

@misskillerdarkness

@emmabookworm08