#none of which she has technically done or remembers doing when he ruins her life

[danmeichael]

see chu wanning was an engineering major who started in that field because he genuinely wanted to do things to make the world better. mo ran has an engineering minor because he thinks professor chu wanning, teaching the engineering course, is hot but he would in fact be a business major because he actually doesn't give a fuck about any other person on earth.

[dunno1234]

Gideon the Ninth review, I guess

So, Gideon the Ninth, huh? The darling of Tumblr, along with the rest of TLT. I read it. Finished yesterday. And now, for my first post ever on Tumblr, I'll also make my first full review of a book. It'll probably be long. I'll divide this in the following sections: Prose (yes, we're starting with it); characters; story; what I liked; and what I really wish had been done. Full spoilers for literally everything in the first book, and warning that I did not like the book much. It's like, 3 stars. But hey, that was a passing grade in college, and thus I'll also read the next book. Also, it will be extremely rambly. I did an editing pass, but to ramble is my nature.

Prose

This is the most relevant aspect to my experience, which is really sad, because I hated it. And it's really weird, because it's the first time I disliked a technically good prose (and I assure you, the prose is good in the technical aspect). The descriptions are very verbose (I learned 4 new words while reading it), but also, well, descriptive, and it has its own distinctive style, and theoretically I would've enjoyed it a lot. So, why did I not? Well, the quips. Oh boy, the quips. They were extremely prevalent throughout the story and I hated almost all of them (other than the Dr. Skelebone one. That one was great, specially how they committed to it), and they actively ruined my experience because I was always bracing myself for them. Another thing I heavily disliked was the use of parentheses to denote both thoughts and quips characters said (I think parentheticals do not belong in prose in any situation, and this book just reinforced that belief). And the funny thing is, it's not as if I'm against the idea of it. Pale Lights (which I absolutely recommend) is also in third-person limited and uses quips during the dialogue, but the main difference is, well, I like how it works in PL and not here, I guess. And it sucks, because, if I dislike the prose, I automatically dislike the entire book experience, since it is an always-present aspect of it. I would even have preferred aggressively mediocre prose, like anything written by Wildbow, over what I got here.

Characters

I loved Palamedes and Camilla.

I liked Harrow, and Gideon was well-written.

Coronabeth, Naberius, and Ianthe were somewhat interesting, or at least interesting ideas behind them (and Naberius had a parrying dagger, which is extremely hot). Would've been good if Coronabeth had existed after the Ianthe review, though. I assume the intention is that she becomes relevant in HtN?

Teacher was fun.

Silas Octakiseron (worst surname in a cast full of impressively bad surnames (although I don't think that they are actual surnames since Harrow's parents have different surnames than her)) is a good antagonist, I guess. Brother Asht had a cool scene.

I have run out of characters to say positive things about.

This is mean (and honestly most of this review will be mean), but yeah... I don't care about anyone else. Most of them are one note with barely any personality traits, and there are simply too many of them for the story's own good. Who cares about the Second House members, who are so irrelevant that I don't even know who is the cav and who is the necro. Magnus was kind to Gideon, but he was also obviously going to be sacced from the start, while his wife I don't even remember having dialogue. Both of the Fourth were developed literally the same chapter as they died, and while they were mildly amusing before, I never got to care about them. Dulcinea/Cytherea was a twist villain, and not a good one. Her cav was literally dead before arrival.

The main problem of the cast, I think, is how they all have to share screentime (or pagetime, I guess) with everyone else. I don't get to see Naberius's life history and training to be sad about his death, when I also have to get attached to Fourth Necro (I do not remember his name) for his death. As a result, none of them get the necessary focus, and they fall flat to me. The worst offenders are the Second, who are completely indistinct from each other and whose only impact in the story is killing teacher and calling Necrolord Prime, two actions that Cytherea could've done with barely any rewriting.

The romance between Harrow and Gideon also fell pretty flat. Gideon spends 90% of the story flirting with Coronabeth and Dulcinea, while Harrow is either not in the scene or emotionally distant, and then in the last couple chapters she gives The Reveal in the pool (which revealed barely anything) and in the penultimate chapter we see how much she actually loves Gideon.

Palademes and Camilla were cool as fuck, though.

Story

It started pretty good before they left Drearbuh (of whatever it's called), but as soon as they arrived in the First planet, it just meandered. I've seen some people who actually liked the book, and they also seemed to agree that it was slow, but I don't think it improved greatly later on. After Palamedes and Camilla first appeared and Gideon was finally allowed to speak it did pick up, and the tests she and Harrow did were fun, but soon after the story became about who has which keys, and I refuse to believe anyone was interested about that part.

Eventually, it had the plot twist that Ianthe is actually a fucking genius who is proving Palamedes wrong about him being the best necro of his generation (sadly) and she fights the Eighth and kills them and also apparently Dulcinea isn't Dulcinea and Palamedes kills himself to kill her but it doesn't work and the remaining characters take turns to kill her until Gideon sacrifices herself and Harrow kills her. And then we get an epilogue.

So, 90% of the story is contained in the last 10% of it. This is not good. The pacing of this book sucks. The last 10% of it is pretty good, but that does not redeem the rest. There is also a lot of telling instead of showing. We only see Ianthe after she becomes a Lyctor; Palamedes's backstory is told by Camilla literally a chapter before the reveal; we never get to see the Second killing Teacher; we never see Silas grabbing Dulcinea's keys. Gideon as the PoV character doesn't really work, because she only becomes the central point of the story at the very end, and for the most part everyone else is doing their own things out of screen.

What I liked

I already said this, but Palamedes and Camilla were great. Harrow was very fun, and, while I did not enjoy Gideon, she was pretty well written.

The setting was very interesting, and felt much bigger than what we saw. I wish that the glossary had been at the start of the book, but it isn't that big of a problem. The necromancy was also fun, with all of the different styles, although I wish it were better explained (and I understand that it probably wasn't because Gideon knows dick about shit about it, but it doesn't really change me having a problem with it).

The last two chapters were easily the best in the book. Like, I genuinely liked them. This is mostly because Gideon wasn't the PoV, I'll admit, but the Necrolord Prime (I do not remember if he's actually called that or not, but I'll still call him that) was very fun in the like, three pages he was in.

What I Really Wish Had Been Done

So, I'll try to be as direct as possible. Have multiple PoVs. Preferably one for each House. This could solve literally every problem I denoted here. The Ianthe reveal came out of nowhere? Well, now we can properly set it up. The Palamedes backstory was explained through exposition two pages before it became relevant? Well, instead of Camilla giving it, we see him think about it. I hate the quips? Other characters won't have quips. The story meanders at the start? Go to characters who have stuff to do. And you can even use the skulls besides the chapter number with the Houses to signify which character is the PoV, and, at the epilogue, have it for the first time have the skull of the First. Wouldn't that be a cool usage of it? I am completely aware that this would require completely rewriting the book, but I think it'd be worth it.

Conclusion

I'll still read the next book, and I will probably enjoy it more due to not having constant quips and Ianthe presumably having focus, although I've heard from multiple people that it's confusing as fuck. So yeah, I'm decently hyped for Harrow the Ninth, and if I have was many thoughts about it I'll probably also write a review. Also, hey, Reddit!

[sapientiiae]

@guideoftime continued from x

This was an unexpected turn of events. 

Or perhaps it shouldn’t have been unexpected. Living their lives the first time around had been challenging — the destinies they were meant to prepare for (hers never spoken of as openly as Sheik’s), having to stay one step ahead of Ganondorf, the training (hers delayed and delved deeper into once she was already in hiding), and the ultimate fight against the Gerudo King. 

The second time around had been equally as challenging, though for many different reasons. They’d already fulfilled their destinies, and now they were forced to relive their lives as if none of it had happened. Their memories had remained intact — though she hadn’t been able to anticipate Sheik’s would — and they were forced to go through the motions of an average daily life, always remembering how close Hyrule was to ruin while everyone else went about their lives completely oblivious.

The princess firmly believed she had it easier between the two of them. In that first life, she’d lost almost everything that had ever been remotely familiar to her — her mother, her father, her tutors, and her home. Loss had become a normal, albeit morbid, part of her life. Once they were launched back into their past to do it over again, she’d lost Impa, which was tragic and a hard pill to swallow, but she’d regained the majority of what was once lost. And, technically speaking, Impa wasn’t gone, she just wasn’t around to fulfill the same duties she’d once sworn to. 

Sheik, on the other hand, had lost two of the three constants in his life. The hero had been important to them both, but Sheik had been much more involved with him (he was the hero’s guide, after all) than she herself had. Impa had raised them both, but at least she’d still had a parent to look after her after the Sheikah tribe leader was gone; technically, Sheik had too, but that was a detail unbeknownst to him that she still hadn’t been allowed to reveal.

She also had a destiny still, a duty to one day rule Hyrule and lead them to unification. Sheik’s destiny, however, wasn’t as clearly outlined. He was to….protect her. Remain loyal to the Royal Family and continue to serve as her shadow. 

All this to say the second round was hard, but they’d learned to lean on each other and find comfort in one another along the way. Even then, their relationship almost seemed to come with unspoken rules; there were certain details about their new lives that they just didn’t talk about. 

Getting Sheik to open up about his emotions had always been difficult, even if they had made tremendous strides in the years that had passed. She’d known losing Impa had come with challenges (there were small clues that alluded to this), which was why she’d always attempted to find ways to support him, though she’d wanted to do so without overstepping any boundaries. 

When she’d learned of Sheik’s offerings at the Shadow Temple, she’d struggled to decide if this was another aspect of Sheikah tradition that was unfamiliar to her or perhaps a sign that Impa’s absence was affecting him more than she’d realized. Regardless, she’d offered to join him in an attempt to show her support, as she’d always done, but she hadn’t anticipated this particular question when she’d awoken that morning. 

But maybe it was time they talked about it. Maybe they needed to be a bit more open with one another instead of selectively choosing which topics they acknowledged. 

“'Whenever I want' may be an exaggeration. There are times when the other Sages are more difficult to reach. If they fall deeper into their prayers, communicating with one another becomes less clear — similar to when a person gets so wrapped up in a task they do not realize someone has entered a room or is speaking to them,” she explained, wondering if she was making any sense. “Also, while communication between Sages is encouraged for obvious reasons, the Sages still have free will.” Perhaps referring to it as free will was a poor choice of words, but she assumed he would understand what she meant. “They can choose to not respond when called upon. It…is most common between Ruto and Nabooru.” Ruto did have a large personality that was a bit of an acquired taste for some.

The Hylian woman plucked a bit anxiously at the oversized sleep shirt that seemed to swallow her up. She’d known when she’d crawled out of bed after him that she was anything but the well-polished portrait that was expected of someone from the Royal Family. She’d had no intention of walking out of the Kakariko house in such a state, though now she was uncertain if she should be walking out at all. 

“And this is me saying that I do not have to come.” She was finally putting her thoughts into words, the stare she leveled at him resolute despite how disheveled the rest of her might have looked. “I came here with you because I want to support you, Sheik. Always. But if this is more private — if visiting the Shadow Temple and leaving these offerings is something you wish to do alone — then tell me as much.” 

[rovelae]

Why Saiouma isn’t toxic

(CW: in-depth discussion of abuse, discussion of rape/noncon)

           Disclaimer(s): This is an intellectual discussion, not a screaming match. If you’re here to argue with facts and evidence, I don’t mind debating with you. If you just want to throw a tantrum because I like something you don’t, I’m going to tell you to take a Xanax and go to bed.

           I’m combining the terms “toxic” and “abusive”; though they aren’t technically the exact same, they’re similar enough for the purposes of this essay.

           This essay isn’t meant to convince you to ship Saiou. If you don’t like it, you don’t like it. But it’s not right to scream ‘abuse’ where none exists; it hurts fans and content creators, and it “diminishes the importance of that word and it reduces [it] to something volatile and stupid.”

           To begin with, we have to identify what makes a relationship abusive. The way I define it, an abusive relationship involves manipulation, an inherent power imbalance, and/or physical or sexual abuse. Most of the hate-posts I’ve seen paint Kokichi as the abuser and Shuichi as the hapless victim, so that will be the focus of this essay.

1. Would Kokichi manipulate Shuichi for personal gain?

           There’s no denying that Kokichi is a manipulative person. He’s a liar and he did some awful things in the game. No one’s saying he’s a morally white character. But it would be wrong to say he’s entirely evil, either.

           I’ve already covered in this post why Kokichi can’t be said to lie for personal gain, but I’ll quote a bit of it here.

           “The motivation [behind Kokichi’s lies] isn’t self-serving—he’s motivated by a desire to end a death game and stop anyone from having to go through what he and his friends have ever again. The smaller lies, though, like lying about his favorite foods? It would be annoying to be tricked like that, but it’s way too much of a stretch to label it psychological abuse.”

           We know that Kokichi’s DICE organization has a moral taboo against murder. We know he hated the killing game, to the point where he orchestrated his own suicide in order to ruin it. And almost every time Kokichi lies in the class trials, it’s either for comedic relief or to push the cast toward finding the culprit.

           “But Chapter 4!” you protest. “Kokichi manipulated Gonta into killing Miu!”

           My response is threefold:

-        Miu started it. Kokichi wouldn’t have done anything at all if his life wasn’t in danger and he wasn’t desperate.

-        It’s wrong to think that Gonta is incapable of making his own decisions. Kokichi may have influenced him in that direction, but Gonta actively made the choice to kill Miu—his own avatar confirms it at the end of the trial. (See also: Impytricky’s “Gonta Gokuhara Character Analysis: When a Genius is Treated like a Child”)

-        Kokichi felt terrible about what happened in Trial 4, to the point where he begged Monokuma to execute him along with Gonta. He didn’t need to do that, and it throws off his whole “I’m the mastermind” act just a few lines later, so we must assume he was being honest about that. It’s clear that he doesn’t enjoy hurting others.

           If that’s still not enough for you, consider: desperation, and, by extension, the killing game, brings out the worst in people. We can’t accurately judge a person’s character if all we have to go off of is the worst parts of them. Would Leon have killed Sayaka outside of the killing game? Would Hifumi have agreed to help Celestia kill Taka? Would Gundham have killed Nekomaru?

           So, would Kokichi manipulate Shuichi for personal gain? No. His whole character is motivated by a desire to help the others, and his lies are either manifestations of that motivation or harmless pranks meant to entertain.

2. Does the Saiouma ship have an inherent power imbalance?

           Shuichi is, by his own admission, weak. Kokichi has a strong personality and likes to be in charge. That doesn’t mean that Kokichi doesn’t respect Shuichi and his opinions. In fact, each class trial is packed with evidence of Kokichi listening to Shuichi’s point of view and respecting his intelligence. For instance:

-        Kokichi sided with Shuichi during scrum debates 2, 3, and 4

-        Kokichi pointed out most of Shuichi’s lies during the trials (and back routes), but in most cases, didn’t fight him on it

-        Shuichi is the only character identified as “trustworthy” by the white board in Kokichi’s room—i.e., Kokichi trusted him to at least be on the right track in the trials.

           Kokichi is also shown to care about Shuichi’s feelings in the game, like when he told him he’d rather bring Kaede back to life in Chapter 3, because it would make Shuichi happy. To reiterate: he wants Shuichi to be happy even if it means they don’t end up together. That says a lot.

           Additionally, I already mentioned that Shuichi is weak, but it’s important to realize that he isn’t so much of a pushover that he’s entirely incapable of standing up for himself. Look at his interactions with Miu, for example: he sharply told her that “I can wear a hat if I want” when she made fun of him for it, and in her FTEs, he refuses to eat the hygienically questionable food she made for him.

           Shuichi’s kind of a simp and tends to get roped into things, yes. But he’s able to stand up for himself—especially after Chapter 6—to the point where he wouldn’t enter into a relationship unless he wanted to. If you think Kokichi would somehow be able to force Shuichi to be his boyfriend, you have no faith in Shuichi—and Chapter 6 proves you wrong.

           So, is Saiouma inherently imbalanced? No. Kokichi respects Shuichi’s feelngs, intelligence, and opinions, and Shuichi’s a stronger character than he’s given credit for.

3. Would Kokichi physically or sexually abuse Shuichi?

           One needs only to look at Kokichi’s Love Hotel event for the answer. While the Love Hotel isn’t canon to the game’s timeline, the characters are still in character— that is, Kokichi and Shuichi are acting as they normally act.

           It’s important to note that Kokichi is the only character who backed off of Shuichi after Shuichi either appeared visibly uncomfortable or told them to stop. Kaede asked for Shuichi’s consent and was given it; Angie, Himiko, Kiyo, Miu, and Tsumugi all took advantage of Shuichi in some way or another; and the rest just didn’t have sexual connotations. Kokichi made advances on Shuichi, noticed that Shuichi was uncomfortable, and immediately backed off.

           “But wait!” you cry. “Just because one character didn’t rape the other doesn’t mean they have a good relationship!”

           Of course, and that’s important to realize, too. But recall that the purpose of this essay isn’t to convince you to ship Saiouma—it’s to prove that it isn’t abusive.

           Keep in mind that this was Kokichi’s fantasy— he would have been able to do whatever he wanted to Shuichi with zero repercussions, and Shuichi probably wouldn’t even remember much when he woke up. And still, Kokichi chose to stop the moment he realized Shuichi wasn’t on board with what was happening. That says a lot.

           And what about outside the game? We know from the Salmon Mode ending that Kokichi is desperate for someone to “figure him out.” He’d be very careful not to jeopardize his relationship with someone who genuinely wants to understand him.

           And Shuichi does genuinely want to understand him:

           So, would Kokichi physically or sexually abuse Shuichi? No. It’s just not in his character.

“But what if Kokichi was lying about EVERYTHING IN THE WHOLE GAME?” you yell. “There’s no way we can trust anything he’s ever said ever!”

           If every Danganronpa character was polite, kind, open, and honest, 100% of the time without fail, the game would be incredibly boring. If that’s the kind of media you’re into, I’d recommend something like Reader Rabbit or Winnie the Pooh. Danganronpa is a murder mystery, where characters hurt and betray and lie and actually kill each other. You can’t trust anyone; that’s the whole point.

           So I advise you to go back through the game with an open mind and try, actually try, to use reading comprehension skills to understand the characters. Examine their motives, think about what they might be feeling when they make the decisions they do.

           Danganronpa is not the kind of game to spoon-feed you easy-to-swallow characters. You have to pick them apart yourself.

           As for everything Kokichi has ever said possibly being a lie? Maybe. Maybe every character is lying to you. But if you hate Kokichi just because he’s dishonest, then it follows that you have to hate Rantaro, Kaede, Shuichi, Kaito, Maki, Himiko, Kiyo, Miu, Tsumugi, Kirumi, and Kiibo—which, at that point, why are you even a fan of the game?

           And if you deny everything Kokichi said just because you think it’s a lie…

 In conclusion

           You can dislike Saiouma because it’s not your thing, but it’s wrong to spread hate over abuse that doesn’t exist. Hating and attacking people for having a different opinion than you won't magically sway them to your side. If you can't articulate your points in a way that doesn't antagonize, you probably shouldn't be talking. People like what they like for a reason, and spitting on what they like won't make you any friends.

           And throwing around weighted terms like “toxic” when you just don’t like something? That makes YOU the toxic one.

[unreasonablebehaviour]

Pls take this random assortment of dsmp “hcs” (which is actually just me rambling out my ass but we love to see it//)

—————

- Sam just like gets really fuccn energetic in a thunderstorm... like just hyperactive but also like v strong..... also immune to electrocution :)

- He’s also like all creepers are, shit terrified of cats which is v funny considering he’s sorta friends with ant

- Even funnier if u want to take the ‘canon’ fact of ant being a whole ass 20 feet tall

- Speaking of ant and this absolutely isn’t a hc but I just find it very funny that people draw humanoid versions of all of the non human characters EXCEPT for ant who I have only ever seen drawn as a cat ghgh

- Bads skin colour is deadass vantablack like if he holds his hand in front of his face it just seemingly vanishes and you can’t pick out where his hand ends and face begins

- I want him to look terrifying.... like absolutely massive a complete unit of a man, sharp ass teeth, sharp spikes and horns, sharp claws, white glowing eyes........... but he’s just like “owo” at all times ghgh

- Skeppy has chronic pain from the diamonds growing inside his body and out of his skin... sometimes he ramps up how cheerful he is to try and hide how much pain he’s in that day

- Ranboo’s body is longer on his enderman side and so he physically can’t stand up straight unless his shorter leg is on a slope

- He’s half silverfish... mainly cause I think that’s funny like hehe both those and endermen are linked to the end/stronghold and can break blocks

- This does also mean he joins bad and skeppy in the ‘help I am v spiky’ club tho

- Also also like absolutely none of his clothes fit cause his limbs are so disproportionately long so rip his ankles in the tundra I guess

- Shortza supremacy

- Sapnap... blaze boy..... I want him to steam when he angy...... v warm to the touch and all of the dteam lay on top of him when it’s cold lmao

- George is like some weird ass mushroom man.... like he looks completely human for the most part but he’s not he just never tells anyone cause he has the mentality of ‘well no one ever asked?’ Or ‘it didn’t seem important’

- When he’s in danger the surrounding plants try to help him (like lmao there’s a war goin on? Nah just take a nap and miss out so you won’t get hurt :) )

- Imagine how much funnier the lmanberg saga would be if schlatt just looked like his profile icon rather than his mc skin.... just cute tiny sheep man in a sweater... I think it’d be like that one gif of the teddy bear slamming its head onto the table to acquire angy eyebrows

- Dreams has symmetrical white patches down the front of skin... kinda like vitiligo but not? Like deadass pure white

- I also kinda just imagine him having creepy solid black eyes ghgh (haha it’s cause he’s possessed)

- He’s immortal and kinda just snapped tbh like half the reason his actions are so manipulative, selfish and drastic are both because he’s so desperate to have control over things in his life and because low-key he kinda hopes that people will find a way to kill him off or get rid of the thing possessing him (I just want a happy ending :( make him not evil pls my poor heart can’t take a non happy for everyone ending//)

- Puffy is fluffy :) I will not elaborate further

- Revived people have creepy blacked out maybe kinda glowing eyes.... paler skin.... scars and phantom pains from their injuries....

- Phil just deadass found Wilbur hiding inside a fridge and took him home with him... wil just assumed the fridge was his mom and Phil found it too funny to correct him

- Tubbo is a moobloom hybrid and all the bees love him ok 💛

- I think it would be funny if dream just deadass can’t see shit through his mask rap considering all the feats he has done

- Phil is v old and ‘wise’ but is also fairly detached from reality as a result cause he can’t really remember what earlier parts of his life were like to understand how other people act

- I also think it’d be hilarious if he ironically had like 0 life skills... cooking? He’s shit at it. Sleep schedule? Never heard of it. Taxes? Isn’t that a state?

- The floors in the tundra trios homes are constantly being ruined by techno having hooves and Phil and maybe ranboo having claws... like u no how u can like dent and scrape a wooden floor with heels? Kinda like that

- Speaking of those three I also think it’d be very funny if they all collectively became useless or started fighting in the presence of a gold block cause like 👀 ‘oo gold/hehe shiny/hold block’ mentality

- Quackity can shapeshift.... but he’s like a ditto and always has the :] face.... mmm also maybe keeps any scars he has

- His ability to control this decreases the more he dies

- So like u could he talking to him and just suddenly he looks like someone else or like a weird mishmash of people and just hasn’t noticed lmao totally not freaky at all

- Literally non of the tundra trio are equipped for the weather like u have someone from the hot af nether, bird man who’d realistically be prone to hypothermia and someone who’s allergic to water like lmao why do yall live here what is wrong with you

- I want niki to just be very exasperated by this fact

- I want her to bake goods for her friends... tailored to their tastes.... cheer up food :)

- Also i forget when she changed her skin but I think it’d be very funny if she dyed her hair pink as an intimidation factor to tommy cause she knows he dislikes techno

- Puffy ily but I do not trust you with Tommy after the disaster that was bbh and skeppys relationship counselling

- The concept of the totems being foolish’s children is very funny to me like just the implication that he just leaves his kids in random chests for people to steal and that when they witness someone die they just explode with revive energy or something like w h a t

- Ghostbur either isn’t actually Wilbur and is just some entity pretending to be him hence the ‘poor memory’ OR him and limbo Wilbur are two halves of one entity

- I just find it v sus that he’s the only ghost that’s ever shown up... and regularly at that

- mmm tubbo hard of hearing.... relies on reading lips the best he can when to help clarify what people are saying but he can hear people well enough if they raise their voice quite loud

- cursed hc but what if ash and Zachary were somehow michael decendants and they like porkums cause he’s either originally a family friend or he just reminds them of stuff

- Ok half of these aren’t even hcs anymore and is just me rambling but who let Karl be in charge of the time travel he has such strong himbo energy

- That being said villain Karl when 👀//

- Why is tubbo like one of the smartest most accomplished people on the sever... he’s like 17..... like my man has been president, developed a new form of fast travel, has a family, developed a nuclear weapons program by himself, launched a man into space, developed a whole town and more .... like who let him have this much power he can barely read//

- I think it’d be funny if techno was just really bad at strategy games..... like ok technically he’s not bad at them but like he just spends 4 days analysing every last minute detail every round to optimise his chances of winning//

- I feel like people don’t give Jack enough credit for the fact he cheated death using nothing but spite

[leahseclipse]

Live for me (Spencer Reid x Reader) 💔

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: While working on a case, Spencer and y/n get kidnapped by the unsub. For everything to end: one has to die.

Warnings: ⚠️ THIS STORY DOES NOT HAVE A GOOD ENDING AT ALL, DON'T READ IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE THIS KIND OF TOPIC; DON'T FORGET TO GET SUPPORT AFTER READING ⚠️; death of major characters, loss of a person, grief, medication use, overdose, suicide, cursing, angst, depression, sad stuff……...

A/N: I cried as much as you are right now. I wrote a bit of it around 1am. Had to watch the unauthorized documentary of Matthew to cheer me up, and you should totally do it. Either that, or criminal minds bloopers, fun cm videos like "bau being kids", etc

Word count: 2.1k

"Hey. You're finally awake."

As you woke up, you only felt cold. You could tell by the ambiance that you weren't inside a room, but outside.

You could hear the faint sounds of cars, guessing that you could be at a high level.

"Come on, we have a game to start. You don't want to make us wait, do you?"

Us?

You looked around, realizing what he meant by 'us'.

It was him...and Spencer.

His eyes were wide open, locked in yours.

"Why are you doing that?"

"Because it's fun. Don't you like to have fun? Everyone does! That's why I gathered two lovebirds here. It'll double the fun! I'm smart, I know."

"You're nothing but an asshole. You're stupid as hell!" You yelled.

"No. I'm not."

"Your face tells me the fucking contrary!"

"Shut up. SHUT UP. YOU'RE MAKING ME WASTE TIME."

"I DON'T FUCKING CARE." You barely had time to place another word that he had punched you in the face, blood dripping out of your nose.

"Stop! Don't touch her!" Spencer yelled.

"She deserved it. She was being an annoying bitch. And I hate people like her."

"I...I'm not done." You muttered.

"Huh? What did you say?"

"I said I'm not done!"

"Done with what ? Me? Oh yeah, you're not. But soon, you'll be."

"Not until you're dead." You said.

"Unfortunately, I won't be the one who will die tonight. It'll be...one of you. One will live, one will die. Only one winner will come out of here alive, not two."

"We'll see that."

"No we won't. Not if you're dead."

"Dare touching her." Spencer said.

"Aw, your husband is so loyal. I'm gonna cry."

"You're gonna cry even more when you'll get to spend the rest of your life in prison; if someone doesn't kill you before."

"I am unstoppable honey. I'm as fast as the speed of the light. Here's the proof, I have been killing for ten years, no one found me. The only thing police had done was to send people that knew of the murders, had witnessed them, but didn't commit it. They all were sort of proud, not knowing that the real killer was still on the loose."

"The team will come. You're trapped. This is where everything ends for you."

"Nuh-uh. For you, not for me. I'm a free man, you're a soon to be dead girl, and you, a soon to be dead man."

"What a fool you're making out of yourself. You're a fucking coward, you're stupid as hell, worthless, you're so full of shit! Just shut the hell—" You spat out, as he raised his gun to your head.

"Now what, huh?"

"Now what? You want me to repeat myself?"

"Dare to do it."

"You're weak."

"Don't get me started."

"Just fucking surrender at this point, your pathetic life is ruined, you have nothing—" You couldn't even finish your sentence. You never got to.

He had shot you in front of the terrified eyes of Spencer.

You were now laying on the floor, a pool of blood growing bigger next to your head. A stray tear had fallen from your eye, the last tear you had shed.

Spencer's screams echoed, as a loud sound came from the door that had soon been opened.

The whole team was shocked at the sight of the scene. You, on the floor, possibly dead, and Spencer's eyes on you.

The guy had attempted to point his gun at Spencer to kill him as well, but then three shots were heard. Next thing everyone saw, he fell on the floor.

The last memories were a blur. Spencer only remembered the sobs of the team, arms wrapping around him, nothingness, he suddenly felt empty.

You were gone.

No.

That wasn't real.

It couldn't.

You couldn't be dead.

It wasn't possible.

It…wasn't.

--------

A week has passed since your death. He had stayed in his apartment, wrapped in a blanket. Only breathing. He wasn't doing anything and hasn't been going out since your funeral.

Part of him didn't want to come. He didn't want that to happen. But at the same time, he would have regretted it forever if he hadn't come.

He had found himself in your room, at 7AM, looking at the stuff in the drawers, until a pack of envelopes caught his attention.

He took it in his hands, before a sob escaped his lips. He had immediately recognised your handwriting.

The first letter was addressed to him.

'Spence' was written on the back.

He opened it with shaky hands, reading the two first words.

Dear Spencer,

I know it's morbid to write this kind of letter, because I'm not dying soon, or dead; but, I wanted to write this for you and the other members, in case something happens to me. 

I wouldn't want to leave everyone behind without them knowing how much I loved them, you would have the right to know.

The letter for the other members of the team are also in the drawer you found yours, so please don't forget to give the letter.

If you are reading this, something happened, it means that I'm not alive anymore.

This letter is for you, the love of my life, my best friend, my colleague, my husband, first of all, I love you, I always have, and will always love you.

I want to thank you for being part of my life. 

You saved my life.

A week before I met you, I planned to commit suicide. I had no family, no friends, no one to count on anymore.

Everyone had left me behind. 

I don't have an eidetic memory, so I don't remember the exact hour, only the day, but I'm sure you do remember.

It was on a Sunday, 14….or 15th of June. The day I met you, was the day I planned to die. I was at the coffee shop, probably drinking the last coffee of my life. 

I wasn't dressed at all in a pretty way. I think I had a hoodie and old jeans. I had picked up my order and decided to sit at a table to try to enjoy the view as I wouldn't see it anymore.

I didn't put sugar at all in my coffee. I hated black coffee, but I didn't care anymore. Even if the coffee would spill on my clothes, I wouldn't care. 

Nothing mattered anymore. 

And, that's when you saved my life. 

The fact that the sugar was still next to the cup, unopened, apparently caught your attention.

I wish I was dressed better. I looked pathetic and horrible.

But you only saw what I didn't see anymore in me. You thought I was pretty, amazing.

I don't know how and why, we began talking, which ended with me, writing my number on your arm before leaving the shop.

That's when I decided I didn't want to die anymore, I wanted to live for you. Only you.

I can't thank you enough. You saved me. I could have died that day, and we would have never met. I would have never dated you, married you, and lived happily with you.

You made all of this possible.

Spencer, don't change. Stay the person you are. Not only you are the sun of my life, but you're the sun of everyone in the team.

Thank you for being with me.

And please, if anything happens, if I'm gone; live for me.

I love you.

Your wife, y/n.

He couldn't see you anymore.

By the time Spencer had finished reading your letter, tears were falling down his cheeks; he still couldn't believe the fact that you were gone.

He couldn't kiss you anymore.

He couldn't touch you anymore.

What would he wake up to each day? Only to an empty bed.

The only memory of you he'll have will be the pictures and the smell on your clothes. But eventually, the smell would go away, and the pictures would only remain frozen memories forever.

He would have to live without you, breathe without you, only prepare one cup of coffee instead of two, cook for only one person, leave the house without having someone to say goodbye to, come back without having someone to say hello to; his entire life was ruined.

You were his entire life, the reason he was living, breathing.

And now that you weren't here anymore, what was he supposed to do?

His life was senseless, useless without you. He couldn't live, enjoy life, while you were six feet under ground,

Dead.

It wasn't fair. 

None of it was fair.

He should have died that night.

It shouldn't have been you.

He collapsed into the bed, laying down on your pillow. It still smelled like you, he had desperately tried to pretend like you were still here, but you weren't, he couldn't hear your soft breathing, feel the air on his skin, your skin in contact with his, you weren't here, you wouldn't come back.

He had wished for it to be a bad dream, he had wished for it to only be a dream, and that you would be by his side again.

But it never happened.

He had to face the reality.

You were gone forever.

He had cried himself to sleep, holding your letter and one of your coats in his hands. 

Tomorrow, he'd wake up to an empty bed. 

Alone.

You would not be in the bed.

He would only wake up to the sound of the stupid alarm, not your voice.

He wouldn't feel your hands on his face, in his hair, on his body.

*

He hadn't slept at all.

He couldn't.

You were the only solution for him to sleep. No matter what was on his mind, no matter how stressed he was, when he'd feel you by his side, he would immediately calm down.

But now, he had nothing.

The apartment was empty.

Calm.

Soundless.

Lifeless.

For him, it wasn't his home anymore, only walls and flooring. 

He'd have to live there, every single item in the house reminding him of you. Every moment, every look, every breath, would remind him of you.

Everyone had tried to talk to him, and sat with him for hours. But he had only stared at the wall, with an empty look.

Technically, he was still alive, still breathing, but he was dead inside. No one recognized him anymore.

It had been a month since your death, it felt like five to him.

Every single second, minute, hour, day without you was unbearable.

If he had to live it was with you, and only you.

If you weren't there, he couldn't live.

He had no reason to.

The cold floor he was laying on had just reminded him that he was still alive. 

He felt so tired.

He didn't have the strength anymore.

He didn't want to fight anymore.

Not in a world where you didn't exist.

Not without you by his side.

Life had no meaning anymore.

The colors had been drained from the world from the moment life had left your body.

He hadn't felt this kind of peace for months. 

He closed his eyes, and a few minutes later,

He saw you.

You had a yellow dress on, his favorite. He called your name, and saw your beautiful eyes once again.

A sad smile was on your face, as he saw you walking towards him.

"Spencer, why are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry y/n. I'm so sorry. I tried. I couldn't live without you, it was impossible."

"Shh, shh...it's okay. You tried babe, you tried. Now you're here. That's all that matters."

"But y/n, I broke the promise. I couldn't live for you, I didn't do it." 

"Spencer, it's okay. Everything will go away, everything; because I'm here now, we're together. We're not away from each other anymore. I promise everything is going to be okay."

"...promise?"

"Promise." You took his hand, smiling at him. 

You turned out to be right, everything went away.

He could finally allow himself to be relieved.

Now, he could be by your side forever.

--

Dear y/n, 

So sorry.

I wrote this letter after you died. I had to tell you everything.

I'm sorry. 

I can't do it anymore, I love you too much to the point I can't live without you anymore.

I want you to know that I'm grateful for all of the moments we've spent together.

Thank you for being my girlfriend.

Thank you for marrying me.

I'm sorry we didn't live long enough to have children. I wish we could have.

I know we would have named them after the team. Garcia would have been their godmother.

You wanted to have two, I wanted three, or five, like Matt. 

I wanted to have mini versions of us running in the house. But it never happened, I'm sorry.

Thank you for all of these years you've spent with me.

I have never hated to be with you one single day. I always appreciated every day by your side.

You are so beautiful, don't forget that.

I could never thank you enough.

Spence.

I love you y/n.

--------

Left letters;

To the BAU, my family;

When I wrote this, I was still alive; but if you're reading it now, I'm not alive anymore. Something might have happened.

I want everyone to know what was on my mind.

Thank you for being an amazing team.

Derek, you were the brother I never had. You always stood by my side, and you can't imagine how grateful I am. I wish you the best, Savannah and Hank are lucky to have you by their side.

Hotch, you were like 'a step father', you protected me, listened to me, I could talk freely with you. Jack is an awesome little guy, I liked babysitting him.

Rossi, you also were like a father to me. You taught me how to cook, how to be better person, I owe you everything. I also want to thank you for marrying us at our wedding.

Emily, you are everything; a mother, sister, friend, I still remember all of the nights we've spent at the bar, on the couch eating ice cream, exchanging secrets, like little girls. I always had admired you.

Matthew, Luke, you guys have also the same role to me, you were the brothers I wished for, teasing me, pulling pranks on me, cheering me up, taking care of me, worrying just when I fell off my chair or when I had a paper cut.

JJ, you are amazing. You have made two wonderful children I loved to be around, they look exactly like you (No offense Will). You also were like Emily, my whole family.

It's the same for Tara, you had always listened to me. You are a strong and amazing woman.

I'm sorry if I repeated myself, but that is mostly because you guys are all my family, I feel the exact same way about everyone.

I am sorry for everything.

Garcia;

I'm sorry I couldn't live long enough to have children. You would have been their godmother, all of them.

You would have babysat them, even when I would have been free, you would have loved them so much.

You truly are the sun.

Thank you, everyone, for being yourself. You have brought me so much joy.

Whatever happens, don't change guys. Keep enlightening other people's lives like you always did.

I love you guys.

To the team;

y/n.

--

I'm sorry. Every time you guys were there, you had tried your best to cheer me up; and you did, but the pain had covered everything. The pain was stronger.

The pain won over everything.

I fought.

I tried.

But y/n was my whole life, and without her, I was nothing.

I missed her, so much. So much.

I'm so sorry.

Thank you for being a wonderful team.

Spencer.

[echo-three-one]

Chapter 39

The Road So Far

Is this still worth it?

The SEVEN Inch Wound

Gary 'Roach' Sanderson

Task Force 141 Base - Gym

Roach finally got his seal of approval. After weeks of physical therapy and daily check ups, he was now finally fit for battle and he was lucky enough that Nero was still under the radar. He wouldn't want to miss out on the battle he started. He was lucky enough that they were exonerated when Shepherd surrendered, because if they continued to be fugitives, Roach would not have access to appropriate medical attention.

It has been almost a month after the events in Afghanistan and Task Force 141 was already re-established, Samantha and Maxine were housed on a nearby compound where veteran's families lived under the safety of government protection. During his time in the infirmary, Maxine was always there to visit, telling him tales about dreams she recovered as time went by. Roach was glad she was returning to normal and that no matter how her memories came back, her treatment towards him was the same.

"Good to see you back on your feet, my man." Rocket went up to him and did their fist bump, a series of elaborate claps then finished off with finger guns accompanied by their almost realistic attempt at pistol fires.

"Haha. Yeah? I'm glad I'm back." He waved as Rocket pointed at his back. Roach turned to see Maxine, carrying a packed lunch, waiting at the end of the hallway.

"Hey you. Just in time for lunch as always." He smiled, wrapping an arm around her as they made their way to the mess hall.

"Glad to see you smiling and walking about." She says, as her palms ran across his firm chest, tracing the scar that changed his life.

"Yeah, finally passed the damn physical test." He grinned as they sat down at their usual table, the only table which consisted of two tables stuck together to form an eight seater.

The rest of Roach's closest comrades were already there. Alex, guessing what Samantha packed for him. Soap and France arguing which meal choice was best for them and Ghost, who was already halfway through his lunch while the rest of his comrades haven't even started yet.

"Good to have you back, buddy." Ghost greeted with a wide grin on his face, well technically only half of his face was shown.

"Hey man. I sure am glad. How have you been doing?" he joked. They constantly visit him in their free time, so there was actually nothing to catch up on.

"The rest of the squad proceeded to badger Roach with questions about everything they wanted to know. Roach enjoyed the hot seat as the military mess hall felt like the university cafeteria.

"So, any news about Nero?" He finally asked as soon as everyone was done with him. The table felt awfully quiet.

"None." France was the first to speak up. Everyone else nodded and frowned.

"Shit. Guess our only choice is to wait." He added.

"Shepherd didn't have any leads towards Nero. Their last contact was the exchange of blueprints and after that, he was gone." Soap explained the situation.

"The missing persons?" Gary asked.

"Still missing." Alex commented.

"And there are still a few additions every other day as indicated by the FBI and DHS." Ghost added.

"Is interpol still involved?" Roach turned to Ghost.

"They're still after the traces of EMP equipment from the missing persons. Their new lead is that Nero's team is trying out a lethal kind of grenade. One that explodes without damaging property. If he's planning invasion, this is actually a good idea without ruining too much of the invaded country." He replied. Roach nodded at the theory. EMPs only damage mechanical equipment and this was a good call for the bad side.

"I never knew they'd think of this kind of weaponry. I always expected bioweapons being the last of modern warfare." Ghost muttered.

"Well, that was what happened in Verdansk and we stopped it. We could do that again." Alex tried to boost morale.

"Yeah. We'll do whatever it takes." Roach agreed and they continued lunch.

By the time he started training, Roach focused back on his Sniper techniques. His wound may have affected his previous breathing training and it was only inevitable that he'd train it again. He wanted to master the long ranged rifle as it was vital towards his development as a soldier.

"Back on the scope huh." Ghost huffed as they reached their 200 yard mark, by the hill just outside the base.

"Glad you could help me on this one." Roach unzipped the sniper bag and began scouting the area.

"You sure this is your spot?" Ghost asked, using his hand as a visor against the hot afternoon sun.

"Yeah. This fits."

"Suit yourself." He chuckled as Roach snapped every attachment of the rifle, from the bipod stand to the clicker adjustments.

He peeked at the scope and looked at his target. Five small cans standing on top of a log 200 yards away.

"Remember what I told you." Ghost mused as he looked at Roach steadying his breathing.

"Damn." He added as he noticed the change in wind.

"Yeah, damn. I just was about to fire it." Roach muttered as he took another deep breath and began to hold still as his crosshairs adjusted to the shift.

A loud fire echoed across the hills as dust scattered on the ground where Roach fired. He was about a few inches off.

"Great. Do that again but change your adjustments." Ghost said as consolation.

"Yeah got it." He rolled his dial once again and accounted for the wind, easing his breath and fired again. The loud sound once again echoed through the hills, followed by a soft metal can flying away from the log.

"There you go! A clean hit." Ghost congratulated as he tapped Roach's back while he reloaded his sniper and aimed again.

Roach stayed at that spot until it was too dark to continue and Ghost accompanied him until such time. On their way back, Ghost opened up to something that has been bothering him ever since.

"Roach. Do you mind if I say something important?" He asked and it made Roach stop on his tracks.

"Yeah. What's up." Roach asked.

"I've already sent my formal letter, but I just wanted you to have a heads up on the matter." Formal letter. Roach's heart started to pound as his mind automatically thought of him quitting or leaving.

"Letter about?" he asked. His mouth almost felt dry. He didn't want him to leave. Not again.

"Transferring department. Alexandra offered me a spot on the Interpol. I told you this first because I knew that if you were on my shoes, you'd go too, right? Do whatever makes you happy?" he said, quoting Roach's famous words.

He isn't wrong about doing what makes him happy, but his decision didn't feel right either, or maybe because he just doesn't want Ghost to go.

"Well, you bet I'd go for that option too!" Roach said, trying to validate his decision despite not wanting it. It was sad to see him go, but for the first time in ages, Ghost actually acknowledged the term happy.

"I knew you'd understand." he smiled and continued their trail back to the base where Roach remained quiet until they reached the base just in time for dinner.

After dinner, Roach opted for a night jog around the base to clear his mind off of Ghost leaving. After the second lap, he soon noticed Alex catching up to him.

"Wonderful weather for an evening run, huh?" He asked all cheery as he's quite used to his heavier and more realistic leg.

"Yeah. It is. Good to see you're liking Samantha's surprise." Gary nodded and removed his earphones.

"You know, it's really a surprise when I'm the only one who doesn't know about it." He commented.

"It feels like a real leg, actually. The wonders of modern technology never ceases to amaze me." He mused as they both took the turn.

"Yeah? That's good to hear. Pretty sure Samantha loved the way you thanked her." Roach teased as Alex chuckled, like he recalled some memory.

"Oh yeah, she did." Alex nodded suggestively, the kind that Roach didn't want to ask anymore.

"This your last lap?" Roach asked as Alex slowed down for his cooldown, turning to the set of exercise bars.

"Yep. See ya!" He waved as he started his cooldown.

Gary took three more laps just to make sure he's exhausted for the night, so that once he got in his bed, no more thoughts would assault his mind, hindering him from sleep.

There was only one way out of it. And it was accepting Ghost's inevitable departure from the 141.

The next morning, the 141 was briefed on a possible lead on Nero. This time, Ghost wasn't in the room and that meant that his letter was now approved.

"Okay lads. We've received word on a supply drop activity from Nero. We intercepted an unencrypted call signal to an abandoned port just off the coast of Sierra Leone, Africa. If intel is correct, we're going to be dealing with someone who goes by 'Volt', Nero's bomb maker." Price paced in front of the huge screen showing details regarding their mission.

"Volt is a high value individual who must not be killed. He's our only hope towards Nero. The intercepted call came from the USA, and it's quite impossible that Nero is here, so he must've used a secure line. Jack will be staying in the base as our new Operations Command as suggested by Laswell. Overlord will continue his role as our commanding officer as well." Price added making clear about the jurisdiction.

"Damp and dry Africa." Soap muttered.

"Have you been there?" France asked.

"Only in Egypt. My mom used to tag me along her trips." he replied.

"Recon suggests a high chance of militia activity, so our standard rules of engagement; treat anyone as hostile. Volt's compound will be surrounded by his own personal army and they're willing to shoot any unwanted visitors. He also has access to a port, so I'm sending the Charlie team to stand by the shore and make sure they're not planning an escape." he added.

"I'm leading the Alpha team and our task is to infiltrate his base and secure Volt for intel. Bravo team, led by Alex, will act as our support when things go south. As bonus, we need to destroy any trace of bomb making equipment.

Roach, I want you to man our new air support tools from above as soon as we confirm that there are no SAMs on his base." He shot his glare on Roach and he nodded. Guess he isn't on the ground tomorrow.

"We leave tomorrow at 0300. Make your necessary preparations especially on our brand new comms equipment. Ones that are immune to EMP blasts. Dismissed." He said as everyone got up and went on their way. Gary purposefully left himself behind so he could ask Price about the Ghost situation.

"Hey there lad. You feeling good?" Price approached as soon as he noticed Roach.

"I just have a question about the mission."

"Sure. What about it? Any suggestions?"

"No no. The plan is fine. Where will Ghost be?" Price gave him a worried stare.

"Ah. Didn't he tell you about his transfer?" He crossed his arms and stared at Roach.

"He did… but why did you allow it?"

"Well, it certainly looked like he was happy to go there. And I had no power over his commendations." Price reasoned as they walked out of the briefing room.

"Oh. I thought he was going to have one last mission with us." Roach smiled as he walked back to the room. Ghost wasn't a fan of goodbyes. Maybe because he knew they'll meet again.

0300H

Sierra Leone, Africa

"This is Hunter One-One requesting sitrep, over." Roach phoned his allies who were already on the ground for support. This mission was their vital lead towards Nero. He wished that the guy Volt was here so that they could finally finish the war before everyone else gets hurt.

Before he could man the air support, he needed to confirm that there were no SAMs present on their base so he could safely provide suppressing fire from above.

Next Chapter : The SIXth Ship

Notification Squad my Beloved

@whimsywispsblog @ricinbach @bumblingbee1 @smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio

[corinnesamuels]

Guarding the Gates, Chapter 6: Today is the Day

In hindsight, Lily realizes that she should have asked more questions the morning James showed up at her flat.

And if she hadn’t asked questions then, she definitely should have asked questions a week later when, after arriving at James’ match against Wimbourne, Sirius said that they’d be gathering at the manor as opposed to heading back to The Bulrush after the match. Lily chalked it up to not wanting to relive the Death Eater attack. But while Remus and Peter might have considered it good sense, Sirius usually would have gone just on the off chance that the Death Eaters did return. There were very few things that Sirius Black found to be daunting.

And if she hadn’t noticed then, she definitely should have noticed something was off when Miranda wasn’t in the box with them, or the Marauders, while cheering as loudly as ever, all seemed to have wistful looks mixed in with the pride in their eyes. She should have noticed that Peter almost looked sad.

But Lily didn’t notice any of it.

So after the match, where Puddlemere narrowly pulled off a win, and James played one of the best matches he’d played in his entire life, Lily didn’t think much about why the boys walked over to the press area to watch the post-match press conference they usually skipped.

But now that she’s here, she sees that something must be wrong because the Puddlemere players don’t quite look like people who had just won a fierce match. Lily’s eyes scan the players, lingering over James, who looks proud and resolute. She hears Puddlemere’s captain Brandon Hastings thanking the press for being there and giving his highlights of the match.

“—but before we get any further into it, I want to let Potter say a few words.”

Well, that’s interesting. Lily thinks to herself. Normally the other players just answer questions, not provide commentary. Confused, she looks to Sirius and Remus, who are staring straight ahead, and to Peter, who is fidgeting and looking down at his shoes.

She’s about to ask what is going on when she hears it.

“Today is my last match as a member of Puddlemere United.” James’ voice cuts through the questions in her mind, causing her to snap her head back to the head table where he sat with the rest of the team. She hears the gasps and murmurs from the press and other attendees.

“For the last four years, Puddlemere has afforded me my childhood dream of being a professional quidditch player. I’ve honed my skills here. I’ve shed blood, sweat, and tears here. I fulfilled another dream of being selected to join the English National Team here. But this is where that journey ends.”

“What the fuck is he doing??” Lily whispers loudly to Sirius, who gives a quick shake of his head and gestures with a nod toward the podium.

“From this point on, my work will center around aiding causes that fight back against the work of Voldemort and the Death Eaters—” a shiver runs through the crowd at James’ use of the name, but he pushes forward as if he didn’t notice. “My immediate priority will be helping to support the children orphaned by the attacks through a fund at Hogwarts School . . .”

The rest of the press conference is a blur. It isn’t until Sirius tugs at her elbow that she realizes that she’d blanked out for most of it. They were heading to the apparition point now and would meet James at the manor soon. She vaguely hears Peter saying he was going to check on his mum before the world around her squeezes and spins wildly through space.

“I don’t know that I understand what just happened.” She says once she found herself in Fleamont’s sitting room. Had she managed to apparate with this level of distraction without splinching herself? Or had someone side-alonged her?

Remus takes a breath and opens his mouth to speak, but his mouth opens and closes before settling on which words to use. “James should be here soon.” He eventually says. Lily looks at him, expecting more. But he doesn’t seem to have more. He also doesn’t seem to be surprised. And as she looks around the room, she realizes that none of them are.

“You knew?” she asks. “You all knew and you didn’t try to stop him? He’s walking away from his dream—”

“Lily.” Sirius’ voice is firm and soft all at once. It shocks her into silence. “James will be here soon. He wants to be the one to tell you.”

Lily shakes her head in disbelief. “Well, why didn’t he?” she half shouts.

“Because I knew you’d try to talk me out of it.” James says as he walks into the room, his broom over his shoulder and his blue and gold quidditch kit still on. He carries a duffle bag embroidered with the Puddlemere logo, which Lily is certain contains the various odds and ends he’d accumulated in the team’s locker room over time. He sets it all down, stopping to reverently wipe an invisible smudge off of his broom handle, before walking into the kitchen to pour himself a stiff drink.

Lily quickly follows, her footsteps making contact with the floor harder than usual. “What on earth did you do?” She asks as she walks into the large kitchen. Sirius and Remus, who had been following behind Lily and just reached the kitchen, exchange slightly nervous glances and creep back out of the room instead.

“I retired.” He says calmly before draining his glass.

“You can’t retire, you dolt, you just started!”

“I signed four years ago. I technically could have last year—”

“You know that’s not what I mean. You’ve only been the lead chaser for a year. You just made the national team. Why are you throwing it away?”

James pauses for a moment and looks down at the floor to gather his thoughts. For a moment, Lily wonders if she’s pushed too hard until he makes eye contact with her again.

“You once asked me if I’d ever get tired of quidditch.” James says. She remembers. He had been giving a play-by-play of a match he had listened to on the wireless before they started rounds one night during their seventh year, and Lily had asked the question teasingly. It had been a joke, something she had been growing more and more fond of doing with him at the time. She looks at him now and still can’t quite believe what he’s about to say.

“I said never. But I’d let it go—”

“The day something else became more important.” she finishes softly. The weight of it knocks the wind out of her.

“Today is the day.” He says. Lily can see the conviction in him. He didn’t shrug or run his fingers through his hair in frustration. He’s serious.

He’s resolved.

“You didn’t have to do this.” She says. “James this is your dream. I’d never have asked you to do this . . .” She trails off and turns away from him as she feels herself getting emotional. The war isn’t just taking lives away. It’s taking dreams away too.

Lily ambles toward the window that overlooks the grounds behind the manor. She doesn’t know how long she’s been standing there, whether it’s been a few seconds or if it had stretched into several long minutes. But she’s a little shocked when she feels James’ calloused fingers on her arm, gently turning her around to face him.

“I know you wouldn’t have.” He says softly as he looks into her eyes. “You would have tried to stop me because you’re right. It was my dream. But in a war like this, someone like me needs more than a dream. I need a mission. I’d never be able to sleep knowing that I had the capacity to do more but settled for less. Quidditch isn’t going anywhere. I can always go back when the war is over or maybe become a coach or a scout. But I won’t rest until I know that I’ve done everything I possibly could to stop Voldemort.”

James looks as if he wants to say more, but nothing comes. They stand there in silence as the weight of what he’s said settles around them. As she stares up at him, Lily lets herself imagine that he did it not just for morality’s sake. Not just for muggle-borns, but for her.

And then, possibly because the universe hates her, Miranda walks in.

Lily’s feels her chest tighten. She’d been doing such a good job of living a Miranda-free life, and now here the woman is, ruining a moment, bittersweet though it may be. For a moment, it had felt like something out of Lily’s daydreams.

“James. I thought we talked about this.” Miranda says angrily as she marches toward James, who takes a step back from Lily to meet Miranda head-on.

“We did.” James says stiffly.

“And you chose to do this anyway?” Miranda’s eyes narrow, and Lily finds herself a little bothered that everyone knew before her.

“No one listens to the wireless anymore, clearly.” Sirius says casually as he strolls back into the kitchen to put a kettle on. “A shame, really.” Remus follows him into the room, covering up a smile. Lily is sure that Sirius is purposefully antagonizing Miranda, and Remus has picked it up as well. But if they heard what Miranda said to James just now, how much of Lily’s conversation had they eavesdropped on? Mildly stressing over what it might have sounded like to them is preferred to listening to Miranda faffing about, so she tunes Miranda out and mulls this over instead. That is until—

“You’re really throwing your life away for some people you don’t even know?”

Lily snaps out of her fog and her heart rate skyrockets. If she had her wand in her hand, she might have accidentally shot sparks. Sirius and Remus look as if they don’t know whether to back out of the room again or hold Lily back from lashing out at Miranda. A fair concern, considering the last time Lily and Miranda saw each other. As her rage builds, Lily grits her teeth and prepares to issue a scathing response, but James beats her to it.

“One of my best friends is muggle-born, or do you not see her standing here?” James asks. He sounds as if he’s doing his best to keep his voice neutral, but Lily can hear the strain. “I don’t have to work. Hell, my grandchildren may not even have to work. I can understand the confusion around that because we don’t talk about it, but those are the facts. But regardless of the confusion, I won’t argue about how I choose to use my money or my time. Especially when it comes to the well-being of my friends.”

Everyone in the room is stunned. Sirius is half-heartedly trying to hide a wolfish grin, and Remus looks as if he is still not sure whether it’s best to back out or keep an eye on Lily’s proximity to Miranda, who Lily notes, looks positively gobsmacked.

It brings Lily no small amount of joy.

Read the rest at ao3!

Or start from the beginning

[teethhunter]

Better than a Dream

Rosegarden Secret Santa Gift for @jealouscartoonist  based of their Cinderella AU

The kingdom was absolutely bustling with news of the Grand Ball.

Rumor had it that this event was to find a proper suitor for the Crown Prince, Oscar.

It was to be the largest event of the decade, more open  to the public than many events but also with many important and influential people planning to come. There was much talk of the preparations happening at the palace in the weeks leading up to the event as even those with no plans or no means to attend enjoyed participating in the excitement.

Many were sent into a tizzy of daydreams of meeting the love of their life at the ball. With all that talk about the prince those daydreams tended to prominently feature him. For some the daydreams morphed into full on scheming and for others they remained fun fantasies that filled the streets with quiet whispers and giggles of just how romantic it would be to get a moment alone with such a charming and handsome prince.

The rumors, however fun, were patently false.

Yes this was to be an event of massive proportions and King Ozpin certainly hoped that a few people might find a spark of romance for themselves that night but he wasn’t doing this to marry off his adoptive son to the first or most enthusiastic party-goer who made a move.

“Just because that wasn’t what you meant to do, doesn’t mean they won’t try.” Oscar pointed out, voicing his anxieties as the day of the ball grew closer.

“Ah but that’s just part of the fun!” Ozpin replied, a far too pleased look on his face.

“Fun for you maybe…”

“And fun for everyone else too. They are making their own fairytales that prominently feature themselves. The human imagination is a wonderful thing.”

Oscar sighed, he should have known that a chat with Ozpin wouldn’t exactly quell his fears in a normal way but it did sort of help even so, just a little bit. “You’re sure I have to go?”

“You’ve never had a miserable time at a party thus far. You can see your friends, maybe meet someone new… Just try to celebrate with everyone.”

In this kingdom still bustling about a ball lived a beautiful girl named Ruby Rose.

Ruby had never been to a ball. In fact Ruby couldn’t at all recall attending a party where she didn’t have to do all the prep work and clean up, only getting scraps of the food that was served.

She lived in a lovely house with her stepmother Salem, and her two stepsisters, Cinder and Neo. Despite the high status of the family and the fact that they could more than afford to hire servants, Salem treated Ruby as nothing but a scullery maid herself. She made Ruby do all the work around the house while Cinder and Neo did seemingly everything they could to make it more difficult. Cinder was more direct in her ways of showing disdain, she would make huge messes right when Ruby had something important to do,or she would burn Ruby’s possessions for fun. Neo was more subtle, waiting until no one was looking to set up situations that would frame Ruby as having messed up. Putting bleach into the wash with the dark clothing Ruby was cleaning, or slipping an ingredient someone in the family was mildly allergic to into a meal Ruby was preparing.

Ruby had grown rather numb to all their antics after dealing with them for so long.

The step family was of course planning on going to the ball and all the talk of the prince looking to find a suitor had certainly gotten back to them. For the last month Salem had been coaching Cinder in this elaborate scheme to catch the prince’s attention, ensuring that they had planned down to the last little detail.

Ruby thought it all a little silly because no matter how much they planned there was always a change that Cinder wouldn’t run into the prince at all, or he wouldn’t like her if he did meet her, maybe even see through that thin veneer of faked kindness to how cruel Cinder could actually be.

None of that was Ruby’s problem though and she had the sense to not voice any of these opinions. She had other things on her mind.

For the first time in her life she was going to go to a ball. Salem had given permission (however offhandedly, it was still a yes!).

For years, during her limited free time she would work at Pietro’s mechanic shop in town to earn money. She had a certain talent for weapon repairs which were nearly always a necessity for anyone traveling outside the city limits where beasts and bandits lurked.

Most of the money she earned at this job was tucked away to someday move far away from her stepfamily but for the last few months she had saved up the money and bought herself a lovely dress. The style of it might have been a bit unconventional- particularly when in combination with the boots she was planning to wear with it- but the fabric was silky to the touch and a deep red color and trimmed with an intricate lace at the hem. She was incredibly proud to have this tangible proof of the work she had put in to get to this point.

The morning before the ball, Ruby woke up early to go to the market to do the grocery shopping. She knew if she wanted time to get ready she would have to get all of her chores done as quickly as possible because here was always a chance Salem would add new tasks to the list.

The excitement in the air was palpable everywhere she went. It was the only thing anyone around was talking about it seemed. Normally Ruby was happy to talk idly with the owners of the various food stalls but today she just nodded along politely as she filled her basket, not lingering for the chit-chat.

Ruby arrived home, basket heavy with produce heavy on her arm, with plenty of time to complete the rest of her chores. She put away all the food and went immediately to cleaning. She took extra care to avoid her step family as Salem was already getting the girls dressed up and ready meaning they would all probably be looking to take their anxiety out on her.

By early afternoon Ruby has finished up and finally can retire to her room to rest and get ready. Her room was in the cellar, not much larger than a closet. It could get cold and damp in there during the winter and after downpours of rain though right now it was pleasantly cool compared to the hot summer weather.

She had done a lot to make it cozy and comfortable. Every inch of wall was decorated, her bed piled up with blankets, and her shelf lined with books she bought over the years from a thrift store in town.

When Ruby opened the door to her room she saw something that made her blood run cold. Cinder, perfectly dressed up and ready for the ball, perching on the end of her bed, holding Ruby’s dress.

Cinder smirked with an awful twist to her lips when she saw Ruby, like she was laying in wait for this moment, a lit candle held in one hand.

The dress had been hidden at the back of her closet so there was no way Cinder just tumbled on it.

“I thought you were joking about going to the ball. You can’t be serious.” Cinder said with a mock laugh.

“No… I wasn’t joking.” Ruby’s voice already held a hint of defeat, already knowing where this was going to go.

“Do you seriously think anyone there would be interested in /you/?” Disgust radiated from Cinder in those words.

“That’s not why I-” Ruby was cut off before she could finish her sentence.

“And this dress.   You’ll be turned away at the door for wearing something so low class.” Cinder held the dress up as if appraising it for it’s every flaw, as if it was too hideous to look at for too long.

“I…” That hurt more than it should for how many insulting things Cinder had said to her over the years. She had grown a rather thick skin about it but this dress was really important to her.

“Really, dear sister, I should save you from the embarrassment. You could tarnish our family name.” Cinder brought the candle up until the flame of it licked the lace trim, making it curl, then crisp, then catch fire.

“Please stop.” Ruby whispers, knowing it was useless, she knew what was about to happen the moment she saw Cinder in here.

It didn’t completely catch fire, put a few flames eat at the edges and creep up the bottom of the skirt, leaving it a mess of holes and ash.  Cinder says nothing else to her, simply unceremoniously dropping the dress in a pile on the ground, stepping on it as if to put out a still burning ember on her way out.

~~~~~

Ruby waited until the last of the burning embers died down before picking the dress up and bundling it in her lap as she sat on her bed. She sat frozen like that in silence, her ears ringing as she tried to bite back tears. There was no way she could mend this in time for the ball. She couldn’t afford to get new fabric even if she had the time.

All she had wanted was to share this one special night with everyone who was so excited about it but that was ruined.

“I wish I didn’t live with these awful people.” She muttered to herself. “I wish they would just disappear.” She took a breath and all at once any anger she held just deflated into grief as tears finally spilled. “No… I just wish I could go to this ball.”

In her mind she had held this event as a moment of defiant freedom, that if she could never escape Salem and she lived the rest of her life like this then at least she got this one wonderful moment.

“You called?” A voice broke the silence, startling Ruby so badly she nearly fell off the bed.

In front of her was a familiar man- er Fairy, technically. He stood in proper Fairy Godmother attire, a clearly enchanted black dress with translucent red fairy wings fluttering behind him. In contrast with the traditional look was his much less conventional scythe-style magic wand at his side and the full martini glass held precariously in his hand.

“Oh! …. You.” Ruby sighed in relief as she got her bearings after being so startled.

“Well don’t go sounding too thrilled about seeing your Fairy Godmother kiddo. You summoned me, remember?” He put on the airs of being dramatically offended though his smile told a different story.

Ruby wiped the lingering tears from her eyes before she spoke. “No it’s… sorry, it’s good to see you actually Qrow.”

In all honesty she had almost forgotten that wishing for things summoned him. She didn’t exactly even know why that happened. When she asked before all she got was a shrug from Qrow and some half-excuses about the ‘mysterious ways of magic’.

It had been a long time since she’d wished for anything actually. Her memories of her childhood were blurry at best but she could vaguely recall how she’d make all sorts of silly wishes just to have him come visit. He was odd and always a little tipsy but he was also so much nicer than her step-family that it made her earlier years with them much more tolerable.

“I didn’t actually mean to call you, it was sort of an accident.” She admitted after a moment.

“Hmm, well even if it was an accident, I’m here now so why don’t you tell an ‘ol Qrow your woes. Looks like you’ve had a rough time of it.” He walked with a strut in his step over the small distance to her bed, sitting down next to her. He took a long drink from his seemingly never emptying glass as he waited for her to talk.

Ruby started and stopped her attempts to explain several times before she got all the words out, still stumbling over herself. She gave more detail than could possibly ever be needed but this was the first time in a long time she ever let all these emotions out. She had friends in town but she never ever let any of them know the cruelty of her ‘family’. Her Fairy Godmother already knew of these things so for once it was safe.

She began to cry again as her words flowed. Qrow was content to listen in his somewhat drunkenly glazed over state.

“-and now I can’t go because my dress is ruined and it’s not like I have anything else I could wear and the ball is in just a few hours and I’m never going to get a chance like this again.”

Ruby finally took a pause and Qrow chuckled.

“Well if it’s only an outfit you need then I can fix you up fine.”  

“Wait, really?” It hadn’t actually crossed her mind that he could help with that..

“Yeah that’s what I’m here for. Mmm, but there’s limits to it, I think you remember that.” Qrow said, fiddling with is scythe-wand as he got ready to do some magic.

Yes Ruby remembered there were limits, there were always strange caveats to any wish she made but right now she could barely bother to care. “Okay! That’s fine, I don’t mind as long as I get to go. Wait um what are the limits?” “It’ll wear off at the stroke of midnight. Indefinite magic gives the worst sort of headache to do.”

“Are you sure that’s not just a hangover?” Ruby mumbed, being immediately met with a shove and grumble from Qrow.

“Shush you. No sassing your godmother. Magic works in mysterious ways.

Speaking of which, magicking you up might make you a little harder to recognize.  Not that you’ll look different, just a side effect of illusionary magic.”

Ruby nodded along, none of those terms sounded awful and now she was just in a rush to make it happen.  “Okay goes away at midnight and I’m sorta in disguise, I can handle that.”

“Great, go put that dress on then and I’ll get you all set. Best to work from a base product to build onto y’know.”

`

“Get out of my room then please?” Ruby started ushering him out of her room so she could have space to change.

“M’kay, I’ll wait outside.” He swayed as he walked out of the room, leaning against the wall in the hall as she got ready.

Ruby carefully slipped the dress on, as if trying to prevent it from crumbling more than it already had. Dark ash smeared her skin as the burnt bits brushed against her. She put her boots and accessories on to finish the look. One glance at her small, cracked mirror had her frowning. She looked absolutely ridiculous. It took her longer than it should have to build back up the confidence to call Qrow back in but eventually she did.

“Oh good, you’re all ready.” Qrow came to stand beside her. “Time for the magic words, you know the drill.” He lazily waved his scythe-wand over her head while in a dramatic and slurred fashion exclaiming “Bippity boppity boo!”

Ruby could feel the hum of magic before she could see it. The dress seemingly mended itself all at once, fitting even better than before. She was so captivated by how well it worked that she did notice the other alterations until she took a step and immediately lost her balance, sticking her arms out to keep herself from falling. Her nice practical knee high boots were now sparkling ruby red heeled shoes.

“Why did you give me stilts to walk on?” She asked, still trying to keep herself upright.

“Isn’t that just what people wear to these things?” Qrow shrugged, completely unbothered.

“I’m going to trip and die before I get there.” Ruby commented half to herself, but she didn’t want to be ungrateful and he had done something wonderful for her.

“Thank you for this.” She eventually added.

“Yeah yeah, any time. I’d love to stick around but I do have things to do, places to be. So go enjoy that ball, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He said, seemingly uncomfortable with the appreciation and in a rush to escape it, he disappeared in a blink.

Ruby walks the length of her room several times, trying to get a hang of walking in these shoes.

She didn’t dare leave her room until she was certain her step family had already left for the ball because she dreadd what Cinder might do if she saw Ruby all dressed up- or worse what Salem might do.

~~~~

When finally she is sure it is safe to leave, she heads out immediately to the palace.

The ball was in full motion when she arrived. It’s the most beautiful thing she has ever seen with people laughing, drinking, and dancing the night away to beautiful music performed by a live orchestra. There were tables filled with the most luxurious snacks and servants going around to cater to guests as well. There were of course guards posted around but even they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Ruby was a bit out of sort, unsure what to do with herself but more than content to just take it all in.

She has been seated in a quieter corner, enjoying some snacks when a man sidles up next to her to start a conversation which leads into asking her to dance. She politely declined but this repeated itself once again with an entirety different and more persistent lad who was determined to dance with her. She wouldn’t be able to dance in these silly shoes even if she knew how to or wanted to so she less than politely bid him farewell and walked away, trying to find somewhere she won’t be pestered.

She weaved through the crowds, paying little attention to who was there. It was during this escape that she stumbled terribly, instinctually grabbing at something to keep herself from falling on her face. The tearing sound of fabric was audible as she realized she grabbed the sleeve of some woman’s dress. The horrified screech from that woman was what made her realize the person she had grabbed was none other than Cinder.

Ruby stole a glance at the scene, Cinder having clearly been mid-conversation, now with a torn sleeve and wine covering her whole front from a glass that had been jostled.

Ruby quickly ducked her head, hiding her face, planning how to escape, praying that Cinder hadn’t noticed who she was. As it turned out, an escape plan was unnecessary as Cinder stormed off and away from all the prying eyes watching this scene play out.

Ruby stayed knelt there, stewing in her own mortification, wishing in her head to just disappear.  

“Hey, are you okay?” Someone asked, bending down and offering her a hand up.

“I’m… fi- fine?” Her voice cracked mid word as she took his offered hand and finally got a proper look at him. Her gaze sliding from his face to the circlet on his head. Without that, she would have no clue who he was, she had never seen the prince before after all.

She had made no move to stand yet but Prince Oscar had also made no move to help her up either. They were frozen like this, hand held, staring at each other.

For Ruby it was the shock of meeting the prince and him kindly trying to help her (and he was as pleasant looking as everyone said).

For Oscar it was because when his eyes met her he was utterly and inexplicably captivated. His heart skipped a long beat and he couldn’t seem to look away.  

In the same instant they both snapped out of it. Oscar helped her up in one swift motion, completely red in the face as he processed just how long he’d been staring at her.

“I’m-” Ruby was instantly interrupted.

“No I’m-” Oscar tried to say.

“Sorry” “Sorry.”

They said in the same moment, looking down and away from each other.

They fumbled over each other’s apologies for another moment and finally got the courage to look at each other again. Another pause, just for a breath and they both laugh.

“It’s not a big deal. If I’m being honest you sort of saved me there? I had been trying to get out of that conversation for a while and that definitely took care of it.” Oscar explained, rubbing the back of his neck as he confessed that.

Ruby held in another laugh, it would be very difficult to explain just how funny this situation was to her personally. “Well I’m happy to be a help?”

She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as she was quickly becoming acutely aware of just how many people were still watching them. “I should probably go do- do something else, something ball related, you know.”

She turned away and tried to disappear into the crowd, headed outside to get some fresh air. “Wait!” Oscar called but she didn’t seem to hear him. There wasn’t a thought in his head as he followed right after her out to one of the balconies. It was quiet out there and a major relief for him to have a break from people constantly wanting something from him.

When she noticed him approaching he flustered again, he had no reasonable explanation for why he followed her other than this undercurrent need to get to know her.

“Are you enjoying the ball?” He asked, internally cursing himself for such a bland introduction.

Ruby was more at ease without so many people around. Even if it was a little nerve racking to be speaking to someone so important, she was somehow less on edge than when anyone else at the ball had approached her. “I don’t really have anything to compare it with but it’s sort of amazing?” It was true, it was all so grand and amazing, even if she did have to dodge a couple of people it was still one the most incredible things she’d ever been a part of.

“Oh, so it’s your first time attending a ball then? I’m glad it’s been good.”

“Yeah I mean, all the books I loved when I was little had castles and grand balls in them and I never thought it would actually be like those stories. Turns out yeah it really is.”  Ruby took a seat on the bench to finally get off her feet.

“I loved those sorts of stories growing up too. I guess it’s weird now to think about how people dream of becoming royalty, being a prince or princess. I went from living on a farm to being adopted into this and then those stories were less fun to read.” He hadn’t really read any books like that since he moved into the palace, now that he thought about it. They all lost their charm.

“I always wanted to be a knight in those stories actually.” Ruby admitted.

“Oh really?” Somehow that didn’t seem surprising at all, he had known her for no more than a few minutes but there was a certain spark to her that made that so believable.

“Yeah I just loved the idea of protecting people that can’t protect themselves, y’know?”

“Remind me to introduce you to the castle guards sometime, I really think you’d like them.” Oscar noted. “But that’s a really nice dream you have though. I think sometimes imagining things is more fun than the reality of it? I’m very lucky to be in this position but living it made dreams of it more dull...I’m sorry I’m rambling!”  

Ruby covered her mouth to conceal a grin. “No, it’s fine. I know what you mean but I want to believe that sometimes reality can be even better than dreams if it’s the right reality for you.”

“That’s- hm I think I’d like to believe that too.” Oscar mumbled, leaving them sitting in comfortable silence side by side for a long moment.

“Would you like to go back inside and dance?” He eventually asked, worried she might grow bored with him otherwise.

Ruby shook her head immediately “Oh please no! I mean I’d love to but… erm you saw me trip back there, I don’t really want to have a repeat performance.”

“Okay then do you want to go on a walk?” Oscar just didn’t want to leave her side, not yet.

“That would be nice actually.” Ruby didn’t particularly want to end their conversation either.

Like a proper gentleman, Oscar offered her his arm to link together which abated any of her lingering anxiety about tripping again.

Oscar led her through a quieter path out of the castle and out along a cobble pathway that snaked around the rear courtyards and into the gardens. Lit only by the moonlight it was gorgeous, overflowing with different flowers and vines covering every surface other than the path itself. Their evening was filled with conversation, once past the initial awkwardness they slipped into comfortably chatting about all sorts of meaningless things.

Time had melted away for the both of them.

That was, until the gonging sound of the clock tower atop the castle interrupted Ruby mid sentence.

She went pale.

“I have to go.” She said, pulling away from him. She could already feel the magic beginning to fade as she hurried away.

“Wait come back!” Oscar held a hand out like he wanted to stop her, like he hoped she would listen and turn around for even a moment.

Just before she was out of Oscar’s view she stumbled once more, the heel of one of the slippers getting caught between two stones in the path.

Oscar flinched, taking one step forward. “Oh, are you okay?”

She didn’t have time to waste and she hated these stupid shoes anyways so she just slid her foot out of it and kept on running.

Ruby was well on her way out when Oscar stooped down to pick up her shoe. The clock had struck midnight and that slipper had reverted back to its old form as a boot. “You left your...boot?” He muttered to himself in complete confusion as he stared at it.

Ruby’s dress was back to it’s charred state by the time she had left the palace property. She hobbled her way home with one boot and one foot with nothing more than a sock on it.

Sneaking back inside her home went better than she was expecting. She was able to get to her room and change out of the ruined dress without anyone seeing her. None of that stopped Cinder from being in a foul mood and barging demanding Ruby draw her a bath. This time Ruby couldn’t even claim that Cinder’s mood wasn’t her fault, even if Cinder wasn’t aware that it was Ruby who had interrupted her plans.

~~~

The morning after the ball Oscar sulked through breakfast. He just couldn’t get his mind off the girl he had spoken with at the ball.

Four of his guards who were more just friends of his than anything else often joined him for meals when there was no formal gathering in place. Today was no different but there was a certain tension in the air.

“Soooo, how was the ball?” One of his guards, Nora asked, breaking the silence with a smile that told him she was already perfectly aware of how it went. “It was fine. It was a ball.” Oscar answered blandly, still staring at his food that he pushed around on his plate.

“Just fine? Hmm well I heard you disappeared with some pretty girl and didn’t show back up all night.”  Nora pressed more, leaning in with an intense expression like she was rearing for a full interrogation. Ren put a hand on her shoulder to try and rein her in.

“Oh you met someone?” Jaune asked and Oscar genuinely couldn’t tell if he was teasing or if he was completely out of the loop. “What’s her name?”

Oscar shrunk in on himself with a quiet sigh.“I don’t know, I didn’t ask.”

“Wait wait wait, you spend all night with this girl and you don’t even ask her name? How are you going to find her again?” Pure horror present in Nora’s voice as she asked that.

“I guess I probably won’t.” Oscar said like he was trying to come to terms with that himself.

“If you are meant to meet again, I think your paths will cross.” Pyrrha chimed in right as Oscar was getting ready to leave the table.

The entire day following Oscar felt like he was in a daze. He couldn’t concentrate for any of his lessons, which got him scolded by one of his etiquette teacher, Glynda, and told to leave early since he clearly ‘had his head in the clouds’.

Even King Ozpin commenced on it in passing with that odd smile on his face that always irked Oscar just a little bit.

When he finally had enough of all the ‘knowing’ comments and teasing he dug out his commoner clothes from his closet and slipped them on. He used to sneak out much more often because sometimes he missed being looked at like a normal person. He hadn’t done this in a while and the clothes didn’t quite fit anymore but he really needed some space.

Oscar wandered aimlessly through the maze of streets in the city surrounding the palace. For the first time all day he felt relaxed as he blended into the crowd with on stares or comments. There was always the slightest bit of tension he held from always having to perform in a princely manner, but here no one expected anything of him.

He was window shopping at an antique store when someone passing by catches his eye.

Maybe Pyrrha’s comment about paths crossing if they were meant to wasn’t so silly because he sees this girl and his brain goes completely fuzzy like it was trying to piece things together while his heart skips in a way that’s becoming very familiar to him.

“Hey wait!” He called out, jogging to catch up with her, not paying mind to how odd this might seem to bystanders.

Ruby doesn’t immediately realize it’s her that’s being called out to. Not until he catches up to her. She started, stopping mid-stride to look at him. Despite his change of clothes she recognized him immediately. She was nervous and happy and confused all at the same time. She never thought she’d see him again and didn’t think he would care to talk to her again either.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you. I guess that was pretty weird to do.” Oscar said apologetically, realizing this was the second time in a row they had an awkward greeting.

“No, no it’s okay I just wasn’t expecting to see you again!” Ruby explained, unsure what to say or do now. “Do you come around here often?” She asked, just to fill the silence.

“Sometimes it’s just nice to be able to take a walk without people staring, you know?” Oscar answered, genuinely thrilled to talk to her about literally anything right now.

“Won’t people recognize you?” Ruby thought he was fairly recognizable, but then again she also had a whole night to take in the details about him.

“Well no one has so far, I think when people aren’t expecting to see me I sort of blend into the background.” The only person to recognize him thus far was her, but that was because he came running up to her so obviously.

“You weren’t expecting to see me but I didn’t blend into the background for you.”

“Oh it’s your eyes…” Oscar tapered off quickly, not wanting to admit that he’d been subconsciously scanning the crowd every moment he was out, hoping to run into her again.

“Hey, have you eaten lunch yet?” He changed the subject abruptly.

“I haven’t but-”

“Well, would you care to join me? There’s this little bakery I love around here.”

Ruby was anxious both because the longer the less chores she was getting done but also because she didn’t have the money on her to pay for lunch. But he looked so bright eyed and hopeful and that smile was killing her.

“I can’t be out for too long, but okay.” She answered finally.

“Really? Great!” Oscar was nearly bouncing on his feet as he offered her his arm reflexively, an overly formal gesture but sweet nonetheless.

Ruby laughed quietly but took his arm, ignoring the couple odd glances they earned.

Oscar led the way to this small corner shop filled to the brim with various baked goods. The sweet scent made her mouth water. She looked at all the different offerings as Oscar chatted with the old lady running the place, listing off the pastries he wanted to get.

He turned to Ruby after a moment and asked “What would you like?”

It hadn’t occurred to her that he was offering to pay for her until then, she didn’t have the money on her to actually buy anything so she was planning on just quietly not ordering anything.

She paused, internally scrambling to make a decision. “One of these?” She pointed to a flaky chocolate croissant that had caught her eye earlier. He picked up on her hesitance quickly and ordered both that and a couple of his personal favorites for her to try.

Once they gather up all their pastries they sit at the one small round table next to the window, settling down.

“ Okay, weird question but it’s been killing me ever since I last saw you.” Oscar asked.

Ruby nodded, giving permission for him to go ahead and ask.

“How do I phrase this,,,,When you left, you dropped your boot? But you definitely weren’t wearing a boot before that?”

Ruby blinked at him then laughed. “Yeah I get why you’d be thinking about htat for so long. It’s well, it was magic? And no I’m not joking! I really mean it.”

At first Oscar gave a slightly doubtful look but she seemed so genuine and there was no other good explanation either. “You know someone that can use magic then? Wow that’s pretty rare nowadays.”

There were traces of magic, some people were born with minor magical abilities and there were healers that cultivated that particular skill but it was rare to have someone perform magic for something like this.

“Yeah I’ve known him for my whole life I guess. Kinda an odd guy but also he’s always been there or me so I guess I can’t complain.”

With that they fell into easy conversation once again and once again time slipped away.

Until she was abruptly brought back to reality from a comment by the old lady running the shop.

“Are you two planning to just honeymoon it here or what? We’re losing daylight!” She asked, halfway between amused and annoyed at the two lovebirds.

Ruby froze, glancing out the window to note that indeed the sun was going down.

“Oh no, I have to go.” She should’ve already been working on dinner and none of her other chores were done yet, scrubbing the floors always was so time consuming.

She was out the door before he could even call out to her, almost impossibly quickly.

“I didn’t even ask you your name. Oscar grumbles as he buries his face against the cafe table.

~~~~

Quite predictably Ruby was immediately scolded when she arrived home. She hadn’t washed Neo’s clothes in time and all her other chores were left to do too. She had to work far into the night without dinner to get it all done, though she wasn’t too bothered after having a lovely lunch with Oscar. She figured that would be the last time she saw him, that fate decided to give her that nice little bit of closure with him, one nice happy moment she could think about as her knees ached from crawling on them scrubbing floors.

~~~~

Oscar however wasn’t at all satisfied in that being the last time they met. In fact had been skipping out on his lessons and duties, sneaking out in commoner’s clothes constantly. It was not like him at all, normally he was highly responsible and took his role seriously.

After several days of this, King Ozpin interrupted one of his escape attempts. “If you needed a break, you could always just ask for one.”

Oscar, very much having not expected Ozpin to be lurking by the exit he always snuck through to get to town, startled. “I’m- it’s not that- it’s-”

Ozpin just nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “You met someone.” He answered for Oscar.

Oscar just sighed and nodded.  

“Well, a little birdy was telling me about this girl who works at a mechanic’s shop. Pietro’s I believe? Interesting thing about her is she’s got bright silver eyes, a pretty rare trait.” Ozpin explained casually.

“I… didn’t tell you she has silver eyes?” As odd as it was, Oscar had grown somewhat accustomed to Ozpin’s odd ability to know things he really shouldn’t be able to and knew that the half shrug and smirk he was given at that comment was all he would receive.

Ozpin stepped aside, clearing the way to the exit and gesturing for Oscar to go on.

Oscar began lingering around that shop whenever he could. He didn’t see the girl that day, or the day after that. In fact it took almost a whole week and he was beginning to feel rather creepy for doing this.

He just wanted to know her name. If it turned out that she wanted nothing to do with him after that, then so be it.

But finally his determination paid off and she was there that day. He didn’t approach her while she worked, not wanting to interrupt and be incredibly rude.

Instead he waited until she was off shift and out of the store, making himself very visible as he approached her. He had a whole thing to say planned out but it all left his brain the moment she saw him and looked happy to see him.

“Sorry to ah- ambush you here but I- someone told me where to find you and-” He just couldn’t string a sentence together. “What’s your name?” He finally blurted out.

Ruby was surprised to see him but already grinning at his awkward entrance. “Ruby, it’s Ruby.”

“Ruby.” He repeated back to her with a look of wonder on his face that made her stomach flip. He said it like it was the most beautiful word he had ever heard.

“So Ruby, you work at a mechanic shop?” Oscar asked, as if he was looking for an excuse to say her name again.

“Yeah, I work on weapons mostly, it’s fun.”

“Weapons huh? How come?” He wanted to know everything about her, he realized.

“Well… same reason I dreamed of being a knight as a kid I think? It helps protect people, in any way I can manage. That and the way weapons are put together is sort of like a puzzle? I find it calming I think and-  oh, I do have to get going soon though.” She interrupted her self, knowing full well that they could talk for hours again.

“Come visit sometime!” Oscar said in a rush, not wanting to lose the chance to see her again.

“I can show you around, show you what it looks like when it’s not crowded with people for a big party.”

“If you’re sure that’s okay…” Ruby wanted to see him again too and seeing the rest of the palace sounded really interesting too.

“Absolutely! It won’t be a problem, no one around will mind.There’s always a guard up at the front gate, just tell them who you are and they’ll let you in.”

Ruby felt warm at the implication he'd mentioned her to enough people that the guards would know who she was. She nodded. “I’ll stop by as soon as I can, I promise.”

She left for home feeling light and with every intention of visiting him.

~~~~~

Bogged down by chores, it’s nearly two weeks later when she first gets a chance to visit. At the entrance to the castle stood a tall red haired woman in armor standing guard.

Ruby opens her mouth to introduce herself but doesn’t even have to as the guard is already opening the door. “It is very good to meet you.” she says. Ruby guessed Oscar really wasn’t exaggerating about the guards knowing who she was.

“Wait here and the Prince will be right down.” The guard assured.

Ruby stood in the main hall, looking at all the tapestries and portraits lining the walls as she waited.

Oscar showed up only minutes later, looking ecstatic and slightly out of breath as if he’d been running to get to her.

He reached out to her then hesitated. Like he wants to hug her or some show of affection but his etiquette training kicked in.

He held his hand out, palm up.

Ruby wasn’t entirely sure what to do but took a guess and put her hand very lightly on top of it.

His fingers curled around hers as he lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

This was by noble standards a very appropriate greeting for a woman he highly respected- if not a little strange because of their status difference. Yet it felt more intimate than just about anything else he could have done. She stood there,red faced and dizzy as he lowered their hands but still held hers in his. “I’m glad you actually came.”

“I promised I would, didn’t I?”

“Well I’m very glad you keep your promises then… I missed you.” He mumbled the last part before clearing his throat.”May I give you a tour?”

“Of course, lead the way your majesty.”

Oscar walked with her hand-in-hand through all the major parts of the castle. Quickly his tour got off track to them discussing other things with him briefly stating what room they were in but otherwise not bothering to give details about it, much more interested in the conversation at hand.

The sun is setting once again when they part ways, Oscar inviting her back any time she wants.

~~~~

Rumor has it that the Prince is seriously courting a girl. She is over many times a week and several servants whisper of the fact they have seen the two snuggled up together when they thought no one was looking. Even without that damning evidence, the bright mood the Prince was constantly in told the story plainly enough.

Ruby had taken to visiting the palace rather than working at the shop. She knew Pietro would welcome her back no matter how long it had been since she last worked. Still, it made her a bit anxious to not be working on her savings currently but for once in her life she was so very happy.

~~~~

Oscar had been serious about properly introducing Ruby to his guard friends. She got along with them easily, so easily in fact that they had begun teaching her the basics of fighting out in the training yard.

Whenever Oscar knew that was going to happen, he tried to get out of his duties early to go watch, it was always worth it to see.

This time around he got there just in time to watch Nora flip Ruby, pinning her to the ground.

“Nora… please try not to kill her, I think Oscar might actually get mad at us then.” Jaune pointed out as Ruby stood up and brushed herself off. “Oh come on, I’m not that breakable.” Ruby laughed. “You next then.” She grabbed one of the wooden training swords and stood at the ready for him.

A few parries from either side before Ruby went on the offensive, half accidentally Jaune over the head with it.

“Ow okay please don’t kill me either.” Jaune whined cradling his head.

Ruby snorted in an attempt to hide a laugh, completely unable to feign concern. “Hm but if I kill you do I get to take your place and be a guard?”

“What! No! Now I’m afraid you’re actually going to kill me.”

“You don’t need to kill Jaune to have a place here. You are more than welcome to stay” Pyrrha said while sympathetically rubbing Jaune’s shoulder, the only one willing to comfort him in his dramatics.

“I think there’s another role you’d prefer over being a guard though.” Ren noted, backed by Nora wagging her eyebrow to punctuate it with implication.

Ruby was less embarrassed now by this than she used to be. This teasing was commonplace now. There was no way it wasn’t glaringly obvious to everyone that the prince was courting her. Honestly she hadn’t put a whole lot of thought into it, it sort of just had been washing over her. Shows of affection are basically constant and they weren’t exactly secret about it even if they weren’t exactly clear about what they were to each other either.

~~~

It became a regular thing for Ruby to join Oscar for lunch or dinner on days when she visited. It was during one of these meals that she first met the King who apparently had the time to join them that particular day. King Ozpin was quite kind and welcoming to her, that dinner actually wasn’t nearly as awkward as she was expecting it to be. The only thing was that he kept saying things that made it sound like he’d met her before. It was odd but also hard to put her finger on exactly. When the meal was over and they parted ways Oscar assured that he was just like that but that the King really did seem to approve of her.

~~~

Some days she and Oscar would go spend their time in the palace library together. Usually they would just quietly enjoy having the other around, leaning gently against each other as they read. Sometimes they would talk about the books they were reading and get completely sidetracked. On this particular day they were going through the shelves of storybooks, quick and simple to read but filled with nostalgia. One particular set of books caught Ruby’s eye, pages faded to yellow with age and a gold trim around the edges. She grabbed for them before she noticed what she was doing, thumbing through the pages looking at the print and little illustrations. She hadn’t noticed how long she had been standing there when Oscar snuck up behind her and wrapped his hands around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“What’d you have there?” He whispered.

“These books, I just, I remember them from when I was little but I think you’re missing one?” There were three books she found on the shelf from this series but there should be a fourth one, the one she remembered best. “My mom- my birth mom used to read these too but my favorite was this one that had these warriors who could turn all the beasts in the forest to stone with their eyes? And well, they had silver eyes which I thought was so cool because both me and her had them too.”  Ruby explained, she couldn’t even recall how the stories went, just like she couldn’t really recall her mother. Sometimes she’s sure she just dreamed it all up.

~~~

Oscar wasn’t too keen on giving gifts. It felt odd to do when he had so much wealth, like he was trying to buy affection. Today though was different. It was Ruby’s birthday and he’d been looking for this particular perfect gift all month long. Once she arrived he could hardly wait to give it to her.

“You’ve had that silly grin on since I’ve gotten here, it’s making me nervous..” Ruby said, eyeing him carefully.

“Okay, okay, I was going to wait until later but, well- hold on.” He turned tail, running up to his room and back to go grab the unwrapped present, returning soon after. “Here you go.”

In her hands he placed a book with those yellowed pages and gold trim. She stared at the title ‘The Warriors of the Woods ’, her fingers tracing the letters in awe. Her cheeks ached from the grin stuck on her face as dragged Oscar into a tight hug.

“Thank you so much!”

“Happy birthday.” Oscar said as he hugged her in return.

~~~

Ruby’s step-family was growing ever more suspicious as she kept returning home happy and grinning, humming songs to herself. Nothing seemed to manage to sour her mood whatsoever and every happy moment she showed only earned her more disdain and chores from Salem. Ruby did them all without complaint.

~~~

With Ruby around so often, Oscar began constantly skipping his lessons. All of his tutors eventually came up with a way to circumvent this by simply pulling Ruby into his lessons as well. Oobleck more or less ambushed them in the garden and gave them no room to politely escape as he handed them textbooks, paper, and pencils, diving right into a history lesson of the internal politics of the Kingdom of Vale.

One thing Oscar had learned about Ruby early on was that she hated being forced to sit still if it wasn’t her choice. She began to fidget, then doodle, then as all this information droned on made her head buzz she began to drift off into a nap.

Oscar nudged her awake a couple times before taking his paper and writing her a little note.

‘Think you’ll survive?’ He slid that over to her just before she began to doze again.

‘I don’t know! Is he always like this?’ Her writing was scrawls that took Oscar a moment to decipher but once he did he quietly laughed.

‘Pretty much, why do you think I skip out on this and spend time with you instead?’ He replied.

‘Saying I’m better than this isn’t a compliment :( ‘

This was the first, but definitely not the last time Ruby was brought into his lessons. Any time they could get away with it they passed notes and laughed like little school kids to pass the time.

~~~

When Oscar was having a bad day, he liked to go climb up into the rafters of the stables. The palace had a large stable where they kept the horses and a few chickens roamed freely. It felt familiar and safe to him. It wasn’t often that he had a truly bad day but today he was feeling very off. Ruby had come to visit that day and while it cheered him up in the way it always did, it didn’t exactly fix everything. That day Oscar decided to show Ruby his hiding spot in the rafters. He led her to the stable and showed her how he climbed up there, sitting comfortably on one of the beams.

“You don’t have to tell me but, is something wrong?” She asked, he had been so quiet today and they had never gone to spend time out here like this before.

“It’s nothing… nothing in particular, just a bad day, I guess.” Oscar admitted. “It’s silly, I mean it’s hard not to feel guilty about having a bad day when I have so much going or me.”

Ruby scooted closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I don’t really think it’s silly, if you want to talk about it, I’m right here.”  She rests her head against his.

Oscar took a moment to try to put it into words. “I’m thankful, for everything Ozpin has done for me. I’m a prince now, and he doesn’t even push all these outdated royal rules on me or anything. But… I didn’t exactly grow up this way? I grew up on a farm, and sometimes I just miss how simple everything was there and I miss my aunt and everything else.”

Ruby understood then why he would want to go hide out here and in a way she could imagine how overwhelming this must be for him since what she’s experienced of palace life was awfully overwhelming to her too.

She didn’t think about it for even a moment before she turned her head to press her lips to his in a sweet reassuring kiss.

Now, affection was shown quite freely between them in private, nearly constantly touching. Kisses, on the cheek, forehead, back of the hand, those were all commonplace for them nowadays. Yet this right here was their first proper kiss.

They were both a bit red in the face at the realization but it felt like it hardly needed addressing, like it was inevitable.

“Hey when you said Ozpin doesn’t push outdated rules on you? I mean he’s not going to have a problem with…” Ruby gestured between the two of them.

Oscar laughed, kissing her in return finally before answering. “I think he’s all for this. He approves of you and he wants me to be happy, and well, you make me happy.”

~~~

Ruby shouldn’t have been surprised when one night she came home to find that book Oscar had gifted her a charred pile of illegible paper in the middle of her room. Cinder had always had a knack for knowing just which of Ruby’s possessions would hurt the most to lose. That, and the whole family had been completely furious with Ruby being so upbeat lately that of course Cinder would do something like that.

Somehow it is so much worse than the dress being burnt. She re-read this book every night before she went to bed to remember what she could of the family she once had and to remember that someone cared enough about her to go through all the effort to find it for her.

She cleaned up the pile, feeling cold and empty and like she was entirely trapped here. Maybe it was just because she’d summoned him last time Cinder burnt something of hers, or maybe she just desperately needed someone to talk to in general but once she is calm she whispers “I wish I could see my Fairy Godmother.”

Once again Qrow appears in front of her in a blink. “Y’know, you can call me when you aren’t crying.” He sighs. “What’s it about this time? I thought the last gig went well. Heard you even snagged yourself a prince.”

“Where did you hear that?! I- never mind, it doesn’t matter.”

“Am I wrong?” Qrow raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“That’s not the point. But even if I did you shouldn’t pat yourself on the back about it. You nearly killed me with those heels.” Ruby was trying to sound serious but having something meaningless to argue over was such a relief it was difficult to keep that tone of voice.

“Oh I’m definitely patting myself on the back. When you two get hitched that makes me royalty by extension.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” Ruby mumbled, hiding a smile by ducking her head.

“Well, enough of that. You never answered my question, what’d you need?”

“I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. I think I’m just tired of this place.”

It was nothing he could fix anyways, not permanently at least probably. “Could you stay for a while? We could play games like when I was little?” She asked, of all things she thinks that might cheer her up right now.

Qrow seemed a bit confused and maybe even a touch startled at that statement  but hid it quickly. “Didn’t think you remembered any of that.”

“You were always around, it’d be a little hard to forget!”

“Hmm…” For a moment he looked to be deep in thought before he shook his head.  “I guess I can spare a little time.”

~~~

It was a few days before Ruby visited the palace again, longer than she had gone without visiting in quite a while.

When finally she does come by, Oscar is visibly worried.

He greets her with a kiss but lingers close. “Did something happen?”

“No, no I was just really busy.” Ruby said blandly.

Oscar had an expression that said he knew that wasn’t the whole story but he wouldn’t press her on it either.

“Just some family trouble, talk about it later okay?” Ruby added to try to quell his concerns.

Before they could continue their conversation they were interrupted.

“Ah, you’re here, excellent!” Said Ozpin as he approached the couple who took a respectful step away from each other. “See, I wanted to formally invite you to our next upcoming ball.” He handed Ruby a sturdy envelope embossed with her name in silver print on the front.

“We’re having another ball?” Oscar asked.

“Yes, it’s been a few months since the last one so I thought it’s time for another celebration.” Didn’t I tell you?”

“It must have slipped your mind.” Oscar muttered, half sure that Ozpin came up with this on a whim just today.

“This one is by invitation only. Hence why I wanted to personally ensure that Miss Rose received hers.” Ozpin shot a meaningful look Oscar’s way as he said that before turning to direct his next statement to Ruby “Mm, anyways, don’t worry about attire, we can have you fitted for a dress, one properly suited for a night of dancing.”

He left no time for either of them to respond before heading off elsewhere. They both are left standing there, confused about what just happened.

“Hey Oscar?”

“Mhm?”

“So, I don’t actually know how to dance?” She was embarrassed to admit it, since it seemed like something everyone around knew how to do but her.

“Oh, well there’s some excellent tutors around here, you don’t have to worry about that!” Oscar reassured.

“Okay but what if I’m afraid of embarrassing myself in front of the tutors?”

“Are you afraid of embarrassing yourself in front of me?” He asked and she considered the question.

“Somehow a lot less afraid.” Ruby answered, there was a level of comfort she’d reached in being that vulnerable around him.

“Then how about I teach you?”

~~~

That started what would become the weeks of dance lessons leading up to this next ball.

“It’s easier than it looks. I was nervous the first time around too.” Oscar said, standing in the large empty ballroom with Ruby as he started the record player on some basic waltz music.

He demonstrated the base steps alone, explaining them as he went.

“Okay, want to give it a try?” He asked.

“I guess, sorry if I step on your toes.” Ruby was still pretty apprehensive even after watching him demonstrate.

Oscar chuckled, putting one hand on her waist. “I’ve seen you practicing sparring with the guards, you’re actually really graceful.”

“When I’m sparring I’m supposed to be aiming to hurt people, and here not so much.” She retorted.

That was only met with a fond kiss and Oscar’s other hand finding hers. “Come on, giving it a try?”

She began to follow his steps but it was clear how uneasy she felt no matter how long they tried it for.

“Here, let’s try something different. You lead.” Oscar offered.

“Won’t that make it worse?” Ruby thought that would just give her more opportunity to step on his feet.

“No, I think it’s pretty awkward to learn to do these all backwards, it’s easier to learn if you’re in the lead role.”

“Okay…” Ruby reversed their position, putting her hand on his waist to mirror the way he had been holding her before. They were nearly the same height so it worked perfectly in that sense.

It’s awkward at first still but Ruby was much less nervous, actually it was Oscar that was stumbling more now because he wasn’t used to this role.

By the time they had made their way around the room once, she was grinning.

When the music ended she hugged him.

“Thank you, that was way less awful than I was expecting.” She mumbled against his shoulder.

“Ha, glad it was better than awful?” His arms wrap around her in turn.

“But you aren’t done quite yet. That’s just the very basics, and you still need to practice this more too.”

Ruby feigned a pout with a grin hidden behind it. “What? There’s more?”

~~

Until the day of the ball they continued to practice. Oscar had been made to take dance classes since he’d been adopted so he was more than happy to show off some of the more intricate steps and dances. Ruby’s personal favorite was dips mainly for that cute dazed expression Oscar got on his face when she could easily dip him and pull him back up for a kiss.

~~

Rumor had it that the Prince will be engaged to miss Ruby Rose by the time this exclusive ball is over with.

This rumor may or may not have been started singlehandedly by one royal guard by the name of Nora Valkyrie. Regardless of how it started, word spread far and wide.

~~

Word spread so far and wide in fact that it reached Salem. She was fuming, oh how could that wretched girl catch the prince’s attention so easily?

As much as she wanted to lock Ruby away and have done with her, Salem knew that if the prince truly cared for the girl then he might very well go looking for her. So she bided her time and came up with a plan, forging an invitation for Cinder to go to this new ball.

Ruby didn’t know any of this. Maybe Salem was a bit more cold and cruel than usual, but Ruby had already grown to expect the worst so she couldn’t even tell the difference.

~~~

The night of the ball arrived rapidly and Ruby had snuck out without finishing her impossibly long list of chores knowing full well she would pay for it tomorrow.

She wore a lovely floor length dress in a similar red color as her previous one, this time with her comfy boots underneath rather than those awful stilts.

Ruby was happy with how she looked, and so much more relaxed without the constant fear that her step mother or sisters would somehow ruin this for her.

Her confidence only grew when she met Oscar at the entrance and he offered her his arm. “You look beautiful.” He said, sounding so genuinely awestruck.

She really had to hold herself back from kissing him or even hugging him since there still was etiquette to follow for an event like this.

“Thank you, you don’t look bad yourself.” She replied as she took his arm.

Oscar didn’t leave her side all night. As he was Prince, they did have to make the rounds of talking with anyone particularly important but everyone was quite polite and seemingly excited to meet her too.

Once all the niceties were out of the way, they joined everyone else on the dance floor.

Ruby wasn’t nervous anymore, though she put her hand on Oscar’s waist to immediately take the leading role in this dance. Oscar just laughed and tried to stealthily kiss her on the cheek, an action many caught sight of regardless, because of course people were keeping their eyes on the prince and his girl.

For the whole night they only dance with each other which no one seemed to take issue with.

Well, no one took issue with until one particular unwelcome guest mader appearance. A song had just ended when Ruby felt a harsh tap on her shoulder, a fingernail basically gouging into her arm. When she looked up at who was trying to get her attention, she tensed,  staring wide eyed. Cinder stood here, a fake overly polite smile plastered on her face as if she didn’t know exactly who Ruby was. “May I have this next dance with him?” She asked, putting Ruby in a position to look very rude and possessive if she were to say no.

Ruby couldn’t find her words at all, even if there was little Cinder could directly do to her here she still couldn’t help but be afraid.

Oscar picked up on something being wrong immediately, he’d never seen Ruby look so vacant and afraid, and this woman who had approached looked vaguely familiar. He frowned slightly before looking at the guest. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

Cinder, seeing how this wasn’t going her way and so incredibly angry with Ruby getting her way, did not in fact excuse them for a minute. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you heard me, I said may I have this dance?” Her grip on Ruby’s shoulder now bruising as she tried to rip her away from the Prince.

Oscar immediately got in between the two of them, and the guards were there almost immediately. Cinder did not go easily or quietly, in fact it made for a rather impressive wrestling match to watch in the middle of the dance floor before she was actually dragged off.

Everyone was quiet, shocked, and confused but slowly the party came back to life with people chancing quiet conversation and then returning to their dance.

“I’m sorry- about that.” Ruby mumbled, voice trembling slightly.

“That wasn’t your fault… at all. But, you seemed to know her?” Oscar spoke carefully, not wanting her to feel obligated to answer.

“She’s my stepsister.” She answered shortly

Suddenly something clicked for Oscar about the ‘family issues’ Ruby had alluded to before and it left a bitter feeling in his stomach. “Hey, you’re safe now.” He said, pulling her close.

“Yeah, for now.” Ruby sighed, she would still have to go home to.. To whatever was going to happen now.

“No, for always. You could stay here, stay with me.” Oscar blurted out, more than anything just wanting to make sure she was safe and happy. It took him longer than it should have to realize just how that sounded. “Okay, uh to be clear that was not a proposal. I promise that will be much better thought out and not asked when you’re dealing with a lot of stress-” His explanation was interrupted with a kiss.

“You do realize you just implied you’re going to propose, right?” Ruby asked once she pulled away.

Oscar laughed, giving her one more peck on the lips. “I thought that was obvious.”

[rwbyconversations]

The Scarlet Letter: Let’s talk about RWBY’s male LGBT rep

I have been sitting on this post for nearly four weeks waiting until the 15th due to the Before the Dawn spoiler rules.

So let's start with a blunt statement: RWBY's male LGBT representation has not been good. If the series' handling of female LGBT rep is good (which... well there's worse shows) and the general standard for how you write LGBT characters in a show like this, its handling of male rep has been... how not to. And Before the Dawn kinda solidified the idea in my head that the show's handling of its male LGBT cast just isn't good enough, either by the standards of when RWBY began in 2013, or today in 2020 when compatively massive steps have been taken over the past decade to show a more diverse list of characters... or at least a more diverse list of female characters.

I don't wanna make this a pissing match over how over-or-under-represented male or female LGBT characters are, but I feel like it's safe to say that the majority of the trend-setters for modern romances, especially in western animation, have been between women. Korra and Asami from Korra, Chloe and Max from Life is Strange, Marceline and Bubblegum in Adventure Time, (insert the relevant Steven Universe characters here, never watched it), and more recently, Adora and Catra in She-Ra and Luz in Owl House.

Compatively, while studies have shown that in general male LGBT characters get more appearances on a purely numerical level, in general they're more one-off characters there to pad a roster, or played more for comedy (see Josh Gad in the Beauty and the Beast remake or the gay guy in Avengers Endgame that was more notable for how hard China and Russia snapped him out of existance). The only big male-LGBT focused media I can think of from the last decade would be Yuri On Ice, Moonlight, IDW's Transformers: More Than Meets The Eye (Chromedome/Rewind best pairing fuck you Roberts for issue 16) Love Simon, and the anime adaptation of Banana Fish.

So it's no surprise that RWBY basically follows these ideas. It's big romance is (unless the writers are very stupid) going to be between Blake and Yang, their first out character was Ilia, Coco got sent to the Book Dimension where she confirmed "I use my sunglasses to perv on women without their knowledge" which uh... yeah you can definitely tell RWBY is written by men... and Volume 6 had Saph and Terra being a good example of an LGBT couple without any real drama. In the last three years alone, the show has drastically increased its lesbian and bisexual characters, alongside even including its first out trans character in May Marigold (albeit only revealed on Twitter). In general, these depictions of sexuality have been pretty OK. Would have liked it if Ilia wasn't immediately written out of the show after Volume 5 as it made her feel a bit more disposable than intended but whatever, subject for another day.

RWBY's male rep though is a bit spottier. There's the plant bois in Volume 5's premiere, we nearly had Pilot Boi until some last-minute revisions, and... Scarlet.

Why Scarlet's a bad launchpad for male LGBT rep

I don't like Scarlet or how his sexuality has been handled. Scarlet's homosexuality wasn't revealed in the show, or by the writers, or even in anything that's actually canon. He's confirmed gay in his sole of dialogue in a non-canon fan anthology, where the manga's Twitter team had to say that Miles suggested the idea and approved of it.

In short, Scarlet is Dumbledore'd, where his sexuality is revealed in out-of-show material and in a way that doesn't make it supremely obvious (Miles himself never commented to confirm this so this news was limited in how far it could spread. I'm genuinely curious how many people still don't know Scarlet's gay), and Scarlet himself is a nothing character who was written out of the show after Volume 3 and only reappeared in Before The Dawn, half a decade after he vanished. Compared to Ilia, as this came out after Ilia's entire arc in Volume 5, it's not a great starting point for mlm rep. But things would have been forgiven if it had gotten better, if the show did have more male LGBT characters introduced, even just on the Saphron/Terra level of just being around for a few episodes before leaving. Then it would have been a misfire but then we could all say "Things got better."

It... didn't. Which is why when Before the Dawn released in 2020, a full two years after Scarlet was first confirmed gay, while the franchise had more than doubled its wlw rep, Scarlet remained the one male character in the entire franchise who had a name and liked men. I remember vividly a fake leak for After The Fall which claimed Yatsuhashi would come out to Velvet and admit to having a crush on Fox. And I remember as well how many people were disappointed when it was said to be false, because it would have been nice for Yatsuhashi's character, especially after the fleshing out he gets in the CFVY books. If Yatsu had come out as gay in the books I'd like his writing enough to say he's a good case for rep, albeit with the caveat of "This is all in side material." But in reality, the leak was fake and Coco was confirmed gay instead.

Unfortunately, Before the Dawn proceeded to ruin Scarlet and made me at times feel genuinely uncomfortable as a queer man! Let's talk about that.

Before The Dawn is crap and Scarlet's writing is borderline offensive

I hate Before the Dawn. It's... bad. I read it while on a vacation and the only solace I had about the entire thing was that I'd bought an M&M chocolate bar. The bar was finished before the book. That bummed me out. It's not a very well written book, the prose is very Early 2010s YA Writer, none of the characters are memorable and there's various Fun Incidents like "NGDO using children as bait for Grimm," and "Neptune's hydrophpobia being used as a threat to torture him and the scene is played for comedy."

Theo was cool. I can't wait to see him as written by good writers, he should be a highlight of the Vacuo arc.

I had two hopes for Before the Dawn- "Don't be bad," and "Let Scarlet and Sage be well written." I'd liked how After The Fall had handled some of its characters (barring, y'know, Coco perving on women), especially Fox and Yatsu who were surprising in how much I liked them. I was looking forward to seeing Myers give Sage and Scarlet similar treatment- two relatively nothing characters meant he'd have a blank slate to write them however he wanted, he could give them unique personalties and if nothing else it could be cool to see their Semblances.

And then I read the book. (Sage fans I am so sorry for you, you got baited harder than Johnlock fans)

Scarlet's a giant dickhead in the book. It's his sole character trait and his inner monologues go on, and on, and on about how much he hates Sun, how he revels in mocking him. Most of his dialogue is sarcastic put-downs about Sun and how lame he is, and Sun is never properly allowed to defend himself or point out how going with Blake meant he was able to help save Haven Academy.

(hey remember when Sun in Volume 6 expressly says to Blake "I was a bad leader for ditching Neptune and the others, and I need to work on that" only for Before the Dawn to have him staunchly refuse to accept that he let the team down? I don't think Myers did but I do)

Scarlet being a ratty bitch would be one thing if, again, the franchise had done more rep. He'd still be a badly written character, but it wouldn't sting as much. But because Scarlet is still the only expressly confirmed male LGBT character in canon (the book teases that Nolan is gay but there's never confirmation either way beyond him smiling at Scarlet), it means that he has to represent that entire ideal. So when the one gay man in Remnant is being an asshole and a snide loser, that means that by extension, this is how the franchise sees gay men. And that fucking sucks! I wanted to come out of Before The Dawn singing its praises, I wanted to like the book, but it was a massive letdown, especially coming off of the other big 2020 RWBY controversy involving gay characters.

Yeah. We're doing this.

Clover and Fair Game: Technically not queerbaiting. BUT:

Let's pre-empt this: Clover wasn't queerbaiting, and Fair Game, while cool and I dig it, kudos to them for becoming one of the top 5 RWBY pairings on AO3 in one year that's fucking impressive (I say with mild malice as an IronQrow main), never had a chance. The writing never seriously boosted it barring one interaction which was flirty (them talking in the lobby of the Schnee Manor), and everything else was out of show boosting through the social media teams and CRWBY hyping it themselves by saying they liked it. If you wanna blame people, blame the animators who went off-script with stuff like Kim Newman adding the wink as a deliberate nod to the Volume 4 waitress, or the social media team deliberately using the same policies for Fair Game as they do for Renora and Bumblebee.

It wasn't Eddy's fault that things escalated, and he himself has said that in retrospect, he should have warned people that this never had a shot.

But I can't blame the Fair Game fanbase. Because Fair Game took off like wildfire. It came right as the fanbase began seriously asking for more male rep, Qrow's pretty hot, and the Clover wink came right after the Great IronQrow Reawakening of November 9th, 2019. The rocket was primed, and they rode it to the moon. Finally, to these people, after seven years RWBY seemed to be doing something with mlm rep in show. People started getting into RWBY just for Clover and Qrow's interactions. And if heroes were boring, Watts and Tyrian also had a fantastic dynamic that made Nuts and Volts one of the more popular villain ships overnight. Things seemed to be turning around! RWBY was remembering that gay men existed! You could hear the choir sing!

... And for those people, that meant that episode 12 hit like Truck-Kun.

People got pissed. People were horrified. And it didn't help that some members of CRWBY had said in the build-up that episode 12 would have some shots that made them nauseous (probably the Tyrian thumb thing) Out of context, it looked to these fans like CRWBY were basically laughing at their suffering, like they were saying "Lol, you thought you had a chance, get fucked, I hope your vomit burns on the way up."

Yeah, Fair Game was never gonna be canon, and I think some people ran too far with it. But in the wider context of how desperate RWBY's mlm community had gotten for basic crumbs of content? I can see why they'd run with what they had. The writers aren't at fault for what happened, but CRWBY didn't help matters. And that desperate mix of what felt like official backing from the crew, jokes about how cute the ship was, and the hope that finally the show would have onscreen rep? I can see why people ran with it.

So why is the show more lackluster in depicting mlm characters?

Money. Let's be honest, most RWBY fans don't care if the show doesn't have good male rep. I'm willing to bet some of you reading this won't care and just dismiss it as not being that big a problem. I don't think the writers care if the show doesn't have good mlm rep because they're not poaching that market. They're after what they see as a bigger, more lucrative market, which in this case is female LGBT rep. That gets people buying games, watching shows, raising awareness and boosting awareness of your property, which means you make more money. In short: Two women kissing hits more markets and generates more attention than two men.

Am I saying that Miles, Monty and Kerry deliberately sat down seven years ago and said "We're not doing gay men because it won't generate enough ad revenue and traffic to be worth the loss in revenue from homophobes?" No, that's silly. But I'm saying that it's less important for them, and it shows in the things that are small and add up. Things like Miles not verifying Scarlet's sexuality or retweeting the manga account's confirmation to spread the message (compared to how he enthusiastically confirmed Ilia being a lesbian himself during the Reddit AMA). It shows in how Pilot Boi would have been the first mlm character only to die in his second full episode until M&K were told about the Bury Your Gays trope. It shows in how Shannon believes that Ozma is "megaqueer" and Miles jokingly laughs it off instead of confirming it, leaving it to just be Shannon's headcanon. It shows in how actor shipping is compared between the mlm and wlw ships, where Arryn and Barbara's frequent pushes for Bumblebee are seen as "official confirmation that it's endgame" while Michael and Kerry saying they enjoy Seamonkeys is treated as "well it would be cute if they did it, but they're never going to."

I'm not gonna say anything like "CRWBY are gonna have Qrow end up with a woman like Robyn out of spite against the bad apples of the Fair Game crowd." I'm not gonna say that I don't think CRWBY cares about male representation in the series. It is, however, definitely a low priority for them, and because that leads to gaffes like Scarlet's writing in Before The Dawn being offensive in his depiction, it only makes the contrast between the sexes all the more painfully apparent.

I'm kinda tired of waiting for Rooster Teeth to show that they do care about mlm. I'm kinda tired of RWBY's male rep being written like it came from a 1993 time capsule where I have to enhance the screen to see a guy holding a sign of Sun's abs or be content with the only onscreen rep still being the plant bois in Volume 5. I'm tired of how often the crew dances around answering basic questions about sexuality (and age, and birthdays, and heights, and so on) by treating it as a spoiler question, as if just wanting to know what way people swing would ever be a spoiler. I'm just... tired of all this. When the best mlm rep in Rooster Teeth's history remains the two dads in Camp Camp who show up in a few episodes, that should say something really bad about your company and your biases (To say nothing of the recent Red vs Blue seasons and their blatant queerbaiting for Grif and Simmons and the whole can of worms that is Donut).

I'd like to not feel like I'm borderline unwelcome because I'd like to see two men in this show kiss, and that the sole thing that represents people like me in this show is some British twat who complains about sand.

I'd just like to feel like my sexuality isn't a joke to Rooster Teeth (or at the very least, be like Donut and have it be a funny one). But at this point after the last few years? I feel like a very uncomfortable punchline to them. And it just sucks.

[danddymaro]

Erron Black X Reader |Pt.3

Previous: A Familiar Sense

Thoughts are italics in quotations = ‘Example’

Flashbacks are in italics = Example

Fixed

Wordcount :   8111

Pt. 3 |   The Big Bad Wolf

His dark, espresso-colored eyes lazily fell over the captive female, eyeing the silent, somber woman as she sat across him. 

She was still bound and helpless, her face set blank as she slept, yet again escaping reality through her slumbering moments.

‘She’s out again,’ He thought to himself, emitting a low blow of air that flew up to the flat under-piece of his hat. By then he’d quickly caught on to her ingenious, little plan, taking it in with growing exasperation,

“ Nearnin' three days and not a bite,” he told himself before standing, rolling his shoulders with a low, little groan escaping him before he strode over to her. 

He knew that if she kept up with her act, she’d starve before they made their way to their destination, something that would definitely reduce his pay, bringing the number down to zero if she so happened to perish while under his watch.

‘That has to be your plan...right?’ He mused while he stepped towards her slumped form, quickly reaching over to where she was, soon looming over her just as a shaken breath left her.

It was as though a cold gust of wind had violently struck her, but he knew her reaction had nothing to do with the weather.

It was still sunny out, the last bit of heat the day could provide slowly dying out, but not enough to bring anyone to such violent shivers.

‘Sunny... Well as sunny as it can get in this godforsaken place,’ He told himself, looking up to see the blinding brightness of Outworld’s star spread its last bit of light out to the realm before it retired.

'Pretty soon we'll see sundown,' He thought to himself, '...And I can't help but wonder...Just what are you're thinking of little miss...’ He wondered while bringing his eyes back down to his sleeping captive, his gaze instinctively drawn to her. 

He’d formally wasted what felt like short minutes gazing at her, when in reality they were hours of silent entrancement.

It had occurred earlier too, soon after her messy outburst, following his discovery of her lovely orbs. 

Even after he'd been cautious, moreso, unwilling to fall under any little spell she would have set for him, he still found himself entranced by her. 

However, he reasoned that technically, it was part of his assignment. 

So silently, he sat back and watched, interested in just what lay deep within the crevices of her mind, haunting her.

‘Just what does she see?’

He briefly wondered just what had her so shaken and helpless, however, the interest was easily overrun by the annoyance he felt at the small act of rebellion, because all it did was make his job harder.

- All it did was threaten his pay, and that was what it was all about.

The pay.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“- Not a scratch on her,” The masked man said with an icy undertone present in his already curt way of speaking. “Do you hear me?” He pressed on. 

With rolling eyes, Black agreed, not needing to be told twice about the done deal, because by then, it’d become almost insulting.

"- Got it." He replied back nonetheless, his tone calmed as he wiled out all of his annoyance from the short response.

“That is the only rule I have; that you bring her to me in one piece.” The cloaked male added while handing the brunette a sack of golden coins along with many other little treasures in the bag, none of which could outweigh the value of the woman within the mysterious man’s sharp eyes.

“Here. This is only a small portion of what is to come,” His new employer said with a nod full of certainty, promising so much more in exchange for the job.

“Riches await you, So long as you complete your task.” He added while he blew out a little huff of amusement, well aware of who he spoke to, having personally asked for him, because until then Erron Black hadn't had a single blunder to his name.

He knew the language the native Earthrealmer spoke, aware that so long as there was profit, there was a way to convince him.

And that was just who he needed, 

- A man willing to spare no expense if it meant success.

Holding the bag within his own hand, Erron stared down at the handsome pay with widely peeled dark orbs, struck by a small stun of disbelief, 

“You mean to tell me there’s more than this?” He asked with a small chuckle, tickled by the high pay he started off with, weighing the contents with his outstretched hand.

‘All this for a woman,’ Black thought while shaking his head, amused at how much the man before him was willing to pour into his hands just to have the female delivered to him.

Black was of course, a man; one who’d lived a long life. 

During all his time living, he’d become aware of just how much a single woman could reign over a fool, but even then he was still in awe at the situation he was in.

But who was he to complain?

‘I’d be a bigger fool to let you take your business elsewhere,’ He thought while he chose to stay silent, swallowing down his own opinions.

“There is plenty more, but remember Erron Black, your pay will depend on the state you deliver her to me.

Take care of her throughout your travel, and make certain she is steered from danger,” He specified while he lifted his chin up, aiming to the sky as he gazed at it.

Simultaneously, while his sight properly aligned up to the heavy clouds, the sky above them roared with a mighty cry, the vicious sound echoing for miles to where the man hoped it'd reach his darling beauty.

'Hear the sky cry out; be aware of my existence as I am yours,' He thought to himself.

“Do whatever it takes, and do not fail me,” he then went on, his already dark eyes dimmed, “ And If you have to get rid of anyone that blocks your path, then do so,” He added, caring of only the end goal.

All he cared about was having (f/n) with him.

“Soon... Soon the spring will be invaded by the rain, and they will exist as they should. " he declared.

" Together, as one.” He added softly, the mask which hid his face not only hiding his identity, but the small smile that played at his lips as well.

The expression was touched by a linger of sweetness that then reached his eyes, infecting every bit of his being.

 “My dear goddess… soon she will be within my arms,” He mused aloud, the change in tone apparent.

“Only you are worthy…” He added lowly, still referring to the woman and all her splendor.

“- Very well,” Black murmured while taking hold of the brim of his hat, lightly tipping it as he performed a single nod, a hidden smirk curling his lips as he agreed with the condition, taking in all of the other man’s odd behavior with astounded amusement that had yet to cease.

‘All this… All this for a woman,’ Erron thought to himself while he was also handed a scroll that gave him all of the information available.

‘It’s easy pay,’ He mused while his dark eyes scanned over the illustration of the woman, making sure to remember it down to the last detail.

With his small, personal booklet in hand, he recorded down every bit of information he had of her, including her location.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the precise location, but it narrowed down the search considerably.

‘ (F/n)’ He thought to himself while he scribbled the name onto the once blank page,‘ That’s your name little missy..,’ He thought to himself while he found himself staring down at the dark ink delicately painted onto the paper in hand.

“I’ll get back to you soon,” Black said before he whistled loudly, the call responded to by his snow-haired steed as it approached the two men with an assertive bray, letting his master know he was at his disposition.

“Good boy,” Erron said while his palm fell over the side of its long, strong neck before easily mounting the creature with a leap up,

“ And don’t worry, I’ll be back soon,” He repeated while taking the reins of the saddle, turning to his employer with a wide grin, “ Very soon...with your goddess,” he added with a tickle of amusement, shaking his head at the praising address.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey...You,” Erron said while lightly tapping the side of his boot onto her leg, repeatedly doing so until the action caused her to stir, the (h/c) haired young woman seemingly bothered by the disturbance, but not enough to immediately wake.

Instead, A fussy, little groan then fell past her, the small sound rousing a grin from him as he detected the annoyance weaved within it,

“Rise and shine Darlin',’' He said while nudging her again.

Her dark lashes slowly fluttered up as she opened her (e/c) colored orbs. Soon, her glazed eyes slowly found his as she looked up to see who woke her, a little pout then performed right as her sights landed on him.

“-Glad you’re awake,” He said flatly, eyeing her shining (e/c) colored eyes for just a moment before his own strayed, falling down to what he had in hand instead.

“I’ve noticed a certain someone hasn’t been eating,” he started, “so... here," he said while shoving the piece of meat over to her, immediately glaring at her as she turned her head, her lips pursed together as she showed her notable disdain, not even wanting to give any consideration to the offer.

‘After being kidnapped by him…

Tied up so uncomfortably...

Forced to be so close to him…On that damn saddle too!’

She thought with a little huff, the muscles in between her legs involuntarily squeezing, causing the soreness that previously settled onto her to become more prominent.

‘After seeing only just part of who you truly are… I wouldn’t dare take anything from you,’ She thought with hard resolve.

‘Because despite what you think…

Despite what you may find amusing…

I’ll make sure to find my freedom.

I’ll make sure that even if I don't get to escape… I’ll ruin every bit of satisfaction you can get from delivering me!’

There wasn’t anything she could do while being tied up, and she despised the fact.

‘I hate you! I really hate you!’ She repeated while yet again her muscles strained, ‘And I don’t want to get on that horse again!’ She added while biting her inner cheek, not thinking she'd ever get used to it.

They’d spent nearly two days on foot, and in her opinion, it was much better than the other form of transportation.

‘I’d rather walk,’ She thought with a low blow of breath being released, deciding that it was much better than the humiliation he put her through during the first time.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“There you go!” he mused, watching her glare at him as he perfectly sat her on his horse’s back, having let loose of the binds on her legs to do so, but not giving the same treatment to the ones binding her hands together. 

He played it safe by altering the position of her arms, tying her wrists up in front rather than back for the ride.

“Come on, lighten up doll,” He told her, reaching up to give her thigh encouraging little pats, the little contact causing her to jump at the first tap. 

“It’s much better than walking,” He assured her, knowing she was already dog tired.

Soon after, an actual shiver then ran through her as he mounted the creature himself, sitting right behind her, his arms draped over her bound ones to take the reins.

“Don’t wanna chew gravel, right?” He asked her, his strong arms at each side of her, holding her still, 

“- So just stay still...no squirmin," He advised her.

Momentarily, her eyes fell down to the dirt ground, swallowing hard as she realized that if she did struggle against him, she’d only end up hurt.

‘He's right...I’m so high off the ground…’ She thought while hanging her head, her chin aimed to her chest with hopelessness.

Anxiously, she tried to squeeze herself tiny, not wanting any contact with him. Little by little, she tried to inch forward, her torso leaned ahead to try an attempt at even the slightest bit of distance, failing altogether as he took the opportunity to press his chest to her back each and every time, knowingly irking her.

‘I don’t want to be pressed to you,’ She inwardly cried, straightening her back from the uncomfortable slouch she had set it at.

‘The very idea disgusts me…’ She added while the warmth of his body was shared with her via the contact.

‘And the action itself...’ She went on, trailing off while her stomach churned, her heart set into anxious mode as she slowly caved. 

By then the air began to mellow down and grow colder, the woman begrudgingly appreciating the comfort of his heat whilst the wind began to pick up, and the sky began to darken furthermore.

She tried to not think much of it, wanting to put every bit of memory she had of him down a deep, dark abyss to never think of him again, but finding it nearly impossible.

‘I detest this more than anything in the world…’ She thought while her vision began to blur, her stiff shoulders falling as she was lulled to sleep, the slow, careful beating of his heart which bounced off his chest and melted with hers providing a strange sense of comfort that overwhelmed her. 

 The rest of the travel was silent, save for the occasional soft hums he released out of sheer boredom, something that was normal during his travels. 

 What he did find surprising was that throughout the ride, she'd let out not a peep.

'I guess they're not all bad then,' He told himself, beginning to think that perhaps she had a nice dream every now and then.

' Or don't tell me…. ' he then thought while grinning, a stupid little thought coming to him and livening him up,

'Darlin'...have you taken a liking to me already?' He mused with a powerful grin, the thought so far stretched, it was almost comical.

'The second you realize what you're doing… I know it'll give you all the more reason to want to kill me,' he went on, by then having the sleeping woman leaned back to him, for the most part, cradled by him as he made sure she was safely secured within his grasp.

"And here I thought you hated me," he said whilst he came down to her little ear, certain that it'd be an action that would bring her back to reality.

-And he was right on the money because not a second after she stirred.

She had awoke to the sound of warm chuckles and what was the unmistakable touch of gloved hands grazing her forearms with slow strokes.

Groggily, she answered back, emitting a soft groan in response that was preceded by yet another sound of amusement by him,

“I see...” She heard the awful man speak, “Taken a liking to me already sweetheart?” He asked her, her tingling spine shooting up stiffly straight as over the course of her entire body, cold shudders raked her.

The events afterward happened in a blur, perhaps because she tried hard to forget it, that, or her mind was so frazzled by him that she could barely focus.

It was all fuzzy to her, but through it all, she could hear him chuckle, the deep, warm sound twisting her already knotted stomach as she tried to sleep yet again, attempting to ignore him after he had the nerve to sit her back down and tie her up again, moving her around like a little sack of potatoes.

‘ Just one,' she decided with certainty, biting her lip, convincing herself that she just needed the chance, whatever slim it may be, to slip away.

‘ And then I can go back home.

I can make my way back…

And I can wait for you there,’ she thought while for just a moment her mind drifted back to the hazy vision of the woman.

‘ I’ll wait for you there,’ she said again, ‘ because I know deep in my heart that you'll make your way to me.’

Sure he'd been able to catch her easy, but she wasn't going to let him win in the long run.

She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction, and what was much more, she'd make certain she'd get away.

'I need to get away from him.

Far ...Far away from him.'

 "hm...What a rude, little lady," he said lowly, taking the piece meant for her in between his own teeth, taking a bite as he watched her, studying her and every twitch of her face as an array of emotions broke through.

It wasn't like he had anything else to do but watch her anyways, so entertained, he watched her display her truths.

She went from stubborn bitterness to a hard resolve, slowly but surely melting in a softhearted expression that was touched by sadness before she came back full circle, her lips pursed as she willed herself into the same bullheadedness.

'I won't take it…' she thought to herself, ' I don't want to…' she went on, trying to convince herself, 'but…' she thought while she swallowed hard, trying to brush away the empty feeling she felt, and what was much more, the desire she had to sink her teeth into the savory, smoky scented piece.

Her pressed lips then loosened in the slightest, the bottom one lightly sinking into her mouth as she continued to watch him, (e/c) colored eyes trained on his chewing mouth.

Longing invaded the lovely shine of eyes as she watched him, but stubbornly, she continued to deny him the satisfaction, not wanting to give the man any more reason to reign over her.

However, despite all the effort she made to seem collected, her stomach rumbled, the sound immediately drawing his eyes to her pathetic, little figure.

Catching the little twinkle in his eye she swallowed down fiercely.

Instantly her face grew warm, color blossoming over her cheeks from being so easily put to shame, all by her own roaring tummy.

“ Stubborn too.” He added with amusement, eyeing the warm color sitting on her shamed face.

‘I see… so that really was your plan,’ He mused, watching her determination slowly crack. ’Good to know,’

It'd been a hunch, but now he was convinced she purposely starved herself, be it for the reason he’d assumed or not, that was her intention, and now he was certain.

Seeing his notable enjoyment at her dismay, she tightened her teeth together, glaring at him viciously, still willing to keep up her front despite her humiliation, which always came at his hands,

“ I'll die before you get me there!” she said through gritted teeth, her words filled with malice as all the while, her face showed the same evident embarrassment that had yet to leave her even while she desperately tried to fight it.

‘ I swear… I swear I’ll find my way home,’

“You won't get a single coin for me! Not One!” She taunted him, snorting, picking at the mercenary like a madman poking a sleeping bear,

‘Because I know well enough that whoever paid you to take me wants me unscathed,’ She thought with assurance. 

‘So you can either let me go….Or let me die,’ She went on, the latter being a path she didn’t want to take.

‘I don’t want to die…’ She thought to herself, pained at the thought, her heart aching, ‘ I don’t want to meet an end where I feel such incompletion, but...but if I were to continue to live, What would be my fate?’ She wondered, afraid of all of the horrible things she could be subjugated to.

‘What awaits at the end of this journey?’ She wondered helplessly.

‘Who...Who awaits me?’

“Oh really?” He said amused. “You think so?” He asked her, continuing to eat, unbothered by her threats, interested in provoking her in order to see just how far she’d really go, because he hadn’t known she could bark so much.

He thought she was meek. 

He figured she was easy to break, but he was slowly being proven wrong.

At the sound of his entertained tone, she strained against the tight ropes, “I know so !” She answered back, roaring at him with a voice that held a dangerous firmness within it,

“I don't know who paid you to do this…” she started, in her own mind trying her damn best to figure out just who in the world wanted her so bad that they'd pay some armed mercenary to whisk her away.

"But they won't give you anything seeing me dead!" She cried out, her arms still attempting to pull away from each other, wiggling on her seat on the floor, attempting to do the same with the restraint on her legs.

“I’m starting to see that you’re really stubborn,” he muttered, watching her waste her energy, seeing her waste the lovely, flickering flame that had him entertained.

“You’re barkin’ at a Knott. Wiggling so much won’t get you anywhere, so all in all, I’d say that once we get there, you’d just wasted that breath of yours,” He informed her, watching her continue to shift with the knowledge that she’d stay bound regardless of what she did.

'Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!'

Fuming, she stopped squirming, refusing to answer him back, instead looking up at the sky, her nose turning up to it as she inclined her head back to gaze at it fully.

Up there in the sky….

‘ Does anyone see me?’ She wondered. ‘Can anyone save me?’ She continued to ponder, wishing that somehow the ropes that bound her became unwoven, somehow unthreading.

(F/n) continued on, ignoring him instead as her thoughts strayed up to the sky with a yearning gaze, sadness dancing with the little shining specs in her (e/c) colored orbs.

‘If you know I need you…

If you know where I am…

If you come to me in my hours of sleep…

Then why don’t you save me from this nightmare? From this horrible isolation and sorrow?

Why don’t you show yourself?

Why have you abandoned me?’

Hearing no reply back, Erron took a step closer, staring down at her from his upturned chin, glaring down at her with an irked twitch to his brow.

 “So...After all that, you're ignoring me again?” He asked her, approaching her again and crossing his thick arms above his chest.

He saw her jaw move, tensing up and tightening as she kept her eyes up to the dark sky, seeming to grow more and more annoyed by his presence, and nearing an approach to yet another explosion of hers.

He knelt down to her, his eyes fixed on her, staring at the woman dead on yet, still being ignored by her as she continued to reside in her thoughts instead, choosing to do away with his presence the only way she could.

“Really now?” he said with a low sigh,” After all that bark you plan on giving me the cold shoulder ?” He asked her, receiving a cold, desolate silence in return, irking him, the woman easily crawling under his skin with her little act.

'Stubborn little brat…' he thought while huffing.

“...I’ve said all I need to say to you,” She said lowly, still not bothering to look towards him, instead, gazing up at the air, the dark, night sky soon in her line of vision,

“...You rotten man,” She added with a clenched jaw.

 "Alrighty then,” he said with a nod, “That's just fine,” he told her, shrugging disinterestedly. “Fine by me if you keep your mouth shut,” He retorted, “But you know… I can't have you starved,” he informed her. 

“ Dying on me…” he added nonchalantly.

“So eat,” He told her, receiving a brisk and snarky No in return.

“ It’s not good for my business, you know?” He told her, and as he spoke he could see a thick shiver run through her, rattling her as he put in his complaint.

“Bringing in a dead body won’t do me any good,” He added, almost as though him telling her about his little dilemma would convince her otherwise.

“Screw y-”

Not letting her finish, he caught her nose in between his two fingers both his thumb and index pressed on either side, squeezing tightly and cutting off her airflow.

At that, her eyes bugged, arms flailing to tear his hand away, but as she did, she was left with the same helplessness as the restraints which bound her didn't budge.

Being trapped, she couldn't really fight back, and the best she could do was shake her head, but even then, his grip was firm, causing tears to bubble in her eyes as the sting of his press and lack of oxygen overwhelmed her,

“Ah!”

It didn't take long for her to gasp, her mouth flying wide open, and with a quick hand, he shoved the last of his morsel in her mouth, offering her a satisfied grin while he succeeded.

She would have spit it out had it not tasted so heavenly, especially while she was starved.

He watched as she begrudgingly ate, satisfied with himself, "’atta girl," he muttered, making her scowl, her eyes once again glowing with a fierce fire.

“ If looks could kill,” he started,” by now I’d be dead, dead, dead,” he mused, “ right honey?” He asked her, making her scoff before she swallowed down the bit of food with a dried mouth,

‘ How dare he…

How dare this… this… rotten man toy so much with me!’ She thought with dismay, convinced that every thing he did was to bother her.

If it wasn’t bad enough that he’d caught her and had her at his mercy, he seemed to enjoy picking at her and making her suffer.

‘But then again…’ She mused while a sudden thought came to her as she saw an open window, ‘It's to my advantage…Right?’ She thought to herself, slowly finding her voice, her (e/c) colored eyes drawn to his boots, not daring to look up at him, knowing her eyes could betray her,

‘If he finds me to be so vulnerable…

If he thinks I’m so helpless… then wouldn’t that mean he sees no threat in me?

Wouldn't that mean that he doesn’t expect me to get the best of him?

Isn’t he too confident?... Enough for me to take my needed chance? ’ She wondered with hope.

‘I’m nowhere near as strong as he is...’ She thought with certainty, ‘But maybe I don’t have to be,’ She thought while momentarily bringing her eyes to the weapon strapped to his side.

‘Maybe I just have to be smarter,’ She added.

‘If I can get it away from him... and maybe even use it myself...’ She trailed off, biting her lower lip, 

‘If he can get closer to me...and give me just a moment...’

“Can I...I have some water? ” She asked him softly, making him chuckle.

“ You have to be sweeter than that honey. After all that big talk I'm a little hesitant to get closer to you… Who knows right? “ He asked her. “For all I know you could try and bite me.

From that little devilish look in your eye, I can only assume you're on the shoot.” He told her, betting on the chances of her planning to escape.

“I’m parched,” She told him, which wasn’t too much of a lie because she actually was thirsty.

“ I haven't had anything to eat or drink,” She said to him, giving him large doe eyes, the sudden look of plea hitting him with surprise.

Again, her little stars were shot to him, causing his jaw to lock at the sight, remembering just what they did to him the last time, figuring she was making the same attempt,

'She's a damn witch,' He told himself, convinced she had some sort of magic to her as he reached towards his water canteen, unscrewing it as he approached her yet again.

He then kneeled to her, coming closer to her level while his right hand began to tilt the opened container just over her mouth, his left hand momentarily running his fingers over the soft skin of her chin, lifting it up with the tips of them to make sure she didn't spill anything.

"Open up," He murmured, his actions making her frown, the expression instantly washing over her as he leaned in.

"C-Can't you let me go?" She asked him, having expected him to untie the restraints to let her drink," I can drink on my own," she said softly, barely uttering the words, because as she spoke she knew she was being too hopeful and that he wouldn't take a bite to her bait.

- But she had to try.

She had to take every chance she could.

Adorning a little smirk, he chuckled, " I sure hope you don't take me as a fool darling," he said while watching her stiffen.

"Insincerity...It really isn't in you, is it?" He asked her, having noticed how little she could hide her true self.

"You want me to let you go, don't you?" He asked her, placing the canteen aside, moving it out of the way before he trailed his left hand down from her waist to her thigh, moving down even more to reach her ankles where he'd tied her up.

All the while she stared at him wide-eyed, watching him undo the knot that held her before he made his way to the other tie, both knees pressed to the ground as he placed himself before her, his arms fully around her figure.

" You know...All you had to do was ask," He told her, his grin present as he was pressed to her, momentarily working on the binds while she basked in his strangely warm, sweet scent of leather.

"If you'd just kindly asked me before...there'd be no need to try and fool me," He murmured, the thickness in his voice causing her to swallow down strongly.

 "After all, I'm a sucker for pretty girls..." He informed her, her face blooming with color at the statement.

During then the tip of her nose was pressed onto his chest, breathing in his smell with tightly shut eyes,

'It's overwhelming,' She thought to herself, having already been surrounded by the scent while they'd rode on the hooved creature, but not having been encased by it as she was now.

It was inescapable and tantalizing. 

Unlike before, now she was facing him, and it felt so much more intimate to be pressed together in such a manner, 

'-But...wait...what...what's going on?' She wondered with confusion while the pit of her stomach warmed, a strange, yet sweet, and warm feeling spreading out to the rest of her body as it was surrounded by him.

" You think I'm the big bad wolf, don't you?" He asked her with a small hum, hearing her reply to him with a nearly soundless sigh, having nothing more to really respond with.

' No. I think you're awful...I know you are...' She thought to herself, trying to ignore the strange, and foreign feeling that washed over her.

'You're...You're the worst,' she reminded herself.

"But really... I'd only bite if you gave me a reason to...If you'd tempt me to..." He added while drawn so close she felt uncertain on whether or not he could actually feel the wild pace her heart ran with.

'You must know what you're doing to me...

Whatever it is you’re doing to me...You have to know...' She silently spoke, wanting to draw back from him, yet left stupidly stilled.

Unwillingly, a little, anxious whimper escaped her, causing his chest to rumble with yet another chuckle, the sound surrounding her, causing her skin to bump up, the woman becoming thoroughly flustered.

'You must be enjoying this...' She thought with perturbation. 'Toying with me like this... making me feel so helpless and small...I...I...Just why do I even feel like this to begin with?'

He suddenly stopped, his voice low, beneath his breath, sounding clear as day to her as she was at such a close range, daring to ask a question that needed no answer, 

"Am I making you nervous?" He asked her, teasing her, causing the tension between them to thicken furthermore.

It had always there. The same thick, uncomforting feeling as the villain was pressed so close to her was always present, however, somehow, with just the single teasing utter, he'd made the air became almost unbreathable and suffocating.

'Is it just me? ' She wondered, suddenly feeling warmer, the feeling somehow similar to standing near a blazing fire. 

She felt so nervous and small, her vulnerability making her feel delicate beneath the rugged man who she was growing certain remained unmoved.

" what do you want from me?" She then asked him, her chest heaved as she shook, wanting to know just what his plan was.

She was aware that he was dangerous.

She knew he wasn't there out of the kindness of his heart, and that the only reason their paths crossed was because of who he already was.

‘You’re someone who’s done awful things. 

You’re someone who doesn’t care about anything but himself and what he can get back.‘

She knew it, and yet, within such a short time, the warmth of his body had already become familiar to her, melting over her sweetly, and leaving a mark that now responded at any form of closeness. 

‘You’re not someone I should be comfortable with in any way...

So why is my body responding in this way? '

 "Why me?" She asked him in search of a concrete answer.

Why her of all people?

 " Someone just wants you that bad..." he replied, answering briskly.

"Who?" She asked him anxiously, all while pleading.

'Just who,' she thought with fright.

" Can't say," he answered back because truth be told, he had no idea.

He'd only ever met the man once and during then his voice was slightly muffled by the mask he'd worn. And if that wasn't enough, he'd also worn a long hood, hiding most of himself save for his dark gaze.

The almond-shaped eyes clicked in his mind, but not enough to give him certainty on just who it was.

 " But we'll see when we get there," he told her.

"In the meantime-"

" Why don't you just let me go?" she interrupted him, questioning him in the same hushed tone of before, "You can let me go," she assured him, her glimmering eyes pleading as she inclined her head back, gazing up at him.

 ' If there is any good in you, please... please let me see it.

Please let it shine through.' She thought with growing faith. ‘ This feeling...give it reason.’ She went on, searching for a soft spot within his glaring dark stones, trying to weave through to a portion of his heart that held mercy.

"And why would I do that? What do I get in return?" He questioned her, scoffing at her plea, because she couldn't really believe it was just that easy, right?

Did she think she could give him puppy eyes and she'd be set?

His resolve then hardened even more as he looked down at her, challenging her, letting her understand that if she thought a look from her eyes was enough to bind him again, she was sorely mistaken.

It wasn't going to happen another time, because he was a strong man, one that wouldn't be caught off guard.

- One who would cave down to no little woman.

Just then the ropes fell, and in that instance of freedom her hands went up to his chest, intent on pushing back while he did the contrary, slowly falling onto her until she was left supported on her elbows.

 ' Do you understand..?' he mused while he was coming close to her, ' I'm In charge...and for now... I make the rules.

So don't think you have anything over me.

Don't think you can play me in any way. '

Her hand then moved to snake over to the side his gun was strapped to when he spoke, stopping her, 

" Tell me Darlin', if we were to cut a deal....what would I get from you?" He asked her, the question making her eyes widen.

The featherlight hope within her grew, her eyes gleaming with the lovely look of trusting faith causing him to shake his head in disbelief. He was amused she really had so much optimism in her despite being trapped beneath him, and that all in all, she was stuck at the mercy of a man that made his living spilling red.

" Anything," she said nodding, starry-eyed and happy, "Anything you want," she breathed.

"Oh? And How much is that ?" He asked, interested, "How much can you give?" he asked her, "You might be able to buy your way out of this," he informed her, knowing there was no way in hell she could, but entertained by just what she'd give,

 What did she think was valuable?

 " I already told you, you can have anything you want!" She said desperately, not understanding why he pressed on so much. 

Didn't he understand that anything was better than being sold off?

Didn't he get that all she wanted to do was make her way back home?

 "Just let me go home and leave me be!" She exclaimed.

"So..." he started, dragging out the word with a little teasing grin, "You're willing to give me anything I ask for... You want to be free that bad?" He asked her, and with a furious nod, she agreed again.

"Please..." she airily murmured.

' I don't know what I've done...

What I've done wrong...

But if it gets me back home, I'll owe you my life.'

A miserable, little smile touched her face while her wet eyes looked up at him, holding onto the small string of hope he'd tossed at her. 

"Well..." He started, idly running the fingers of his left hand beneath one eye to catch any escaping drops, the sweet touch giving her a soft form of comfort.

The hand so close to the weapon withdrew fully, moved to his kind hand, offering a lax hold to his wrist that assured him she was thankful and appreciative. 

‘There is something in you then...something that is good,’ She began to think.

"Now that you mention it, there is just one thing," He said to her, continuing to smile, leering down even closer to her, the proximity causing her breath to hitch as he fully climbed over her, caging her down.

" I know there's one thing you could pay me with," he added. " Hell...I don't think you've shared it with anyone yet," he said chuckling, running the same hand's fingers down over her neck, falling to her chest to where his touch became nearly nonexistent, ghosting over the bosom until he went down to her ribcage.

All the while, his eyes were glued to her ripening face as it glowed and realization dawned onto her.

"Mind sharing it with me? "He asked her, his husky voice falling over her little, heated ear as he whispered the offer.

'Did it cross your mind?' He wondered, 'Or are you that innocently foolish?' He went on, interested to know what went through her mind.

During the entire time, he'd been just toying with her, but even then he felt a small twitch, growing excited as he caught a whiff of the sweet scent she carried around. 

 The smell that emitted from her (s/c) flesh was eerily similar to fresh wildflowers, and it was only really noticeable as he brushed his nose over her flesh, the little arousing aroma only just letting itself be known.

' I'm starting to see how you could make a man go stupid,' he thought to himself, recognizing that she was arousing from sight to scent.

"Not! Not that!" She cried out, literally shaking at his fingertips, the woman growing as delicate as a brittle leaf,

"Get...away..." she said with harsh pants, her voice trembling.

"But you said anything, right? " he said in a low murmur, reminding her of just what she had said, making her realize just how stupid she was.

 ' You thought you'd strike a chord in me and that I'd cave.

 You really thought this world worked that way.'

 "So convince me," he said whilst his lips grazed over her neck, the little contact tickling her, causing her to shiver.

A little sound that she'd never produced before set free from the confinement of her strongly heaved chest and soon after, A sweet, virginal moan struck him. 

With a tight bite to his lip that slowly raked over the flesh, he then took a long breath through clenched teeth.

"No... no..." she shook her head, tears bubbling in her eyes as she wanted to pull back every promise she made, swallowing down the words of compromise she had given him because by then she had become thoroughly frightened.

" ...Off," she weakly begged, her hands which were still on his chest fisting his shirt before she resorted to pushing her balled hands toward his chest, feeble, shaken strikes bumping him.

'For just a moment...For just a measly second...I actually trusted you!' She thought with growing anger. 

' You made me think that there was a shred of kindness in you when you're nothing but a sick... 

Degenerate...

Awful... 

Rotten man!' 

The little quakes that had overcome her ceased, as she clenched her teeth tightly, barring them with a low snarl, "Get off of me now!" She demanded, her voice suddenly stern and certain, filling with spite. 

Her right hand flew up to his face, her palm greeting his flesh with a vicious contact that echoed out, the quiet silence of the desert land interrupted by the clash.

His head moved with the force she used on him and blankly, he stared off to the side, feeling the bothersome sting left on his cheek after the well-deserved assault.

"You actually went and struck me..." he said slowly, his brown eyes glaring down at her, darkened down to near black as he watched her fierce features then melt, regret gleaming in her eyes as she realized just what she did.

His tongue slowly ran over his top lip, a heavy breath passing through his parted lips as he inhaled, sucking in a low breath.

His two hands then reached for her wrists, one pinning her left over her head with unkind force, the other lifting up her right hand back up to his face, forcing the offending hand to lay over the stinging spot it had struck.

Under her touch the spot was pulsing hot, throbbing with pain which overall left him impressed, 

"I didn't think you'd actually go ahead..." he said chuckling, no true show of malice or rebuttal being reflected.

'Serve's me right, right?' He thought to himself cheekily.

" I Didn't take you to be so brash," he admitted to her, because despite the spikes of strength that glowed in her eyes, he hadn't figured she'd be brave enough to actually take a strike at him.

"Not with these hands," he added, continuing with the same amusement, feeling her shake, the little quake present even in her fingertips.

‘These little hands that were so sweet to patches of weeds, ‘ He thought to himself as he remembered how sweetly she interacted with her garden. 

" Little miss sweet and innocent; Miss I wouldn't hurt a fly..." he jeered, "She has some poison in her, doesn't she?" he said while watching her, the said venom which had previously brewed not there, replaced with fear.

"It's a real shame..." he murmured, pressing his lips over her stinging palm, giving it a quick, playful peck that lingered.

' I know it hurts darling'...it hurts you more than it does me, doesn't it? ' He mused while his lips rested on her warm palm.

‘ I can only assume you detest violence. You loath it as much as you say you hate me.

Maybe because... To you, I am violence.

To you, I’m a complete nightmare. ’ 

There was so much shame in her eyes that she shut them close, not wanting to be ogled by the man that had already greedily drunk in their sight.

' It is such a shame...

A shame I can't touch you,' he thought with the same excitement.

' It’s A shame your nothing but an inexperienced girl at that,' he added with a shake to his head, his mind wandering to territory he knew shouldn't be threaded upon, but was unavoidable.

He dared her to stop him again, willing to take her command if she found her voice, 

' Tell me no and I'll stop.

If you can...

If those pretty lips can form the words...I'll step back now,' He thought while in the end, she stayed silent, leaving his warm mouth stuck to her, not moving from the little spot it’d landed on.

Afterward, he let her limb fall, retreating and ultimately, leaving her little body to lay with haggard breathing that was difficult to ease.

It was then that her hands reached up to her risen chest, scrambling back further from him, wanting to run, but left a wobbling mess.

Her erratic heart was in desperate need of a steady hand to grasp it, and helplessly, she clutched her chest, her wide, teary eyes following the man, afraid of him, and yet, somehow excited.

It was all too much for her.

What was much worse, the present excitement she fizzled with had her in a poorer state, the woman wondering why her body had grown so hot, as well as questioning why the sight of him caused her chest to ache so much.

' I can't stay here... I just can't,' she told herself, watching as he seemed unaffected, the light of the fire being put out by the sand he gently kicked into it. 

'I have to leave...' She told herself, letting the precious time slip past her fingers as she stayed motionless instead, watching him in quiet silence until he decided to pay her mind again.

As his eyes landed on her, she couldn't help but shrink furthermore, much more as he went to her, the bind in his hands yet again, having already given her enough time to enjoy being unbound.

'She didn't try anything,' He told himself, somewhat surprised. ‘She didn’t even move an inch,’ He observed.

" Time for some shut eyes darlin," he murmured lowly, suddenly seeming somber, all the traces of amusement he typically wore drained out, the overall sentiment having been vacant throughout the entire two hours of calm quietness.

Reaching towards her, he pulled her dangerously close to him as he carefully knotted the rope around her wrists and ankles, each twist done with slow carefulness, making certain it was secured, yet kind. 

‘Since you’ve been good...I suppose I’ll be nice.’ He silently spoke to her as he finished up restraining her, doing so in a much more comfortable manner, leaving her arms before her rather than behind.

" We're heading out in the morning, just before the sunrise," he informed her while draping a small, woolen blanket over her, her little, balled body covered by it.

"So rest up..." he added while going back to his previous spot across her, keeping his eyes on her until he was sure she was out.

Again, the same small sounds of discomfort he'd become familiar with drew from her, making his lips press together firmly, his head shaking. 

Inclining his head back, he then stared up at the stars, leisurely counting them until somewhere along the count he closed his eyes a final time, his eyelids grown to heavy to blink open. 

‘A good night’s rest,’ He thought to himself. ‘That’s all I need.’ 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Next Part: I Know I shouldn’t 

[goosewhisker]

this crooked posture (is all you’ve ever known)

read this on ao3 || read this on fanfiction.net

i wrote this whole thing in a span of about 5 days :pensive: as u can maybe tell i have a lot of feelings abt that one conversation btwn scourge and jules...there is so much potential here and im sad we never got to see it

as far as timeline goes- this would probably take place in the pre-boot universe about six months or so after scourge & co escape from zone jail. the destructix are camping out on mobius for the time being to avoid drawing zonic's attention and knothole has wrapped up the ixis naugus/metal sally arcs.

Summary: Fiona heads off with a wave, and he's left where he started - staring through a window into a nearly-empty kitchen, looking in on a life was never his and never will be. Inside, the robian sets bacon on the stovetop to fry and starts making toast, blissfully unaware of the hedgehog just outside. It's hard to tell on a robot, obviously, but he looks perfectly content with his life. Happy, even.

Pathetic. 

Or: Scourge avoids his problems, Fiona is exasperated, and Jules is mostly oblivious.

It's the early hours of the morning. So early, in fact, that it shouldn't even technically be called morning because it's still basically nighttime and no one sane is up right now.

Which is probably why the idiotic robian is up at five o'clock in the morning, puttering around in the kitchen and making breakfast. There's literally no reason for it. It's not like he can eat anything, after all, and his stupid son lives off chilidogs, so he's not going to eat it. And his stupid wife isn't getting up for like two hours, so she's not eating it either. See? Idiocy.

Yet another thing that their universes seem to have in common.

"What are you doing?"

Scourge almost shrieks - key word is almost, 'cause he's too cool to scream like a dork - and tackles Fiona into the bushes. "Shhh!"

Fiona splutters indignantly and a second later her fist bounces off his jaw, which, ow. "Are you nuts? Get off me!"

"Shhhut up!" Scourge throws a quick glance over his shoulder at the window. No one's come outside to investigate, so hopefully no one's heard. He rolls off her a second later. "You wanna get us arrested, woman?"

"Hey, I'm a legal citizen of this universe!" Fiona protests. "If anything, it's you who's getting arrested, Mr.-Snooping-Through-Other-People's-Windows. That's so creepy."

"We're both wanted criminals here; if we get caught, we're going down together," Scourge points out, graciously ignoring her last comment. "And anyway, I'm... gathering intel."

Fiona snorts. "Pull the other one, Scourge. That's not gonna work on me." Crossing her arms, she adds, "You've been gathering intel every night for the past week. And I know you're technically the same person, but watching Sonic sleep is really weird."

"I'm not watching him," Scourge snaps before he can help himself.

"Oh?" Fiona's eyes glint and it's then that Scourge realizes he's slipped. "Then who are you watching?"

"Uhhh..." Scourge fidgets while trying not to look like he's fidgeting. "No one. I'm just passing through, not watching anything. Why'd I want to do that anyway?" He forces a laugh. "So lame."

Fiona regards him with a flat stare. "Your fingerprints are smudged all over the window."

"What?" Scourge whips around to check the window. He'd been so careful not to leave any traces of his visits, but-

Waitaminute.

"Very funny," Scourge growls into his gloved hands. Fiona snickers.

"Look, if you don't want to tell me, I won't make you," she says, standing up and brushing the dirt off her pants. "But I'll find out eventually. And if this new obsession of yours endangers yourself or the team, I'm going to put a stop to it."

"Yeah, yeah," Scourge mutters, waving her off. "Get lost."

"Mhm. We still on for that movie night?"

"'course. See you there, babe."

Fiona heads off with a wave, and he's left where he started - staring through a window into a nearly-empty kitchen, looking in on a life was never his and never will be. Inside, the robian sets bacon on the stovetop to fry and starts making toast, blissfully unaware of the hedgehog just outside. It's hard to tell on a robot, obviously, but he looks perfectly content with his life. Happy, even.

Pathetic.

Scourge kicks the side of the house, suddenly incandescently furious with everything. Inside, Jules looks up in surprise, but Scourge is already gone.

"I need to stop," Scourge says later. The movie is over - some samurai flick that Simian had picked out and Lightning had ruined with his constant nitpicking - and they'd gone out for ice cream afterwards (read: robbed that nice gelato place downtown). Getting used to having teammates again is... something, Scourge supposes. But it's not completely terrible.

"You need to stop," Fiona agrees. She's texting furiously, slouched into the ratty couch in their current hideout with Scourge's head on her lap.

"It's just weird seeing him alive, is all," Scourge tells the ceiling. "That's all it is. Like, when you see something weird, and you just gotta look at it. It doesn't mean anything."

"Are you trying to convince yourself or me?"

"Not tryin' to convince anyone. I'm just saying what it is."

Fiona sets down her phone with a sigh. "Look, you gotta stop hurting yourself like this."

Scourge sits up a little too fast. "Hurting myself? What? Babe, have you forgotten who you're talking to? I'm Scourge the Hedgehog, I don't hurt."

Fiona gives that all the acknowledgment it deserves, which is none. "I told you about the... the prison, when I was a kid," she says. Scourge falls silent. "I went back there a few times, after I was big enough to handle myself. There wasn't a reason, really. I just thought I had to see it. And it sort of helped the first time - I cleaned out all the bots and made sure that place couldn't hold anyone ever again - but after that, I just went back again and again because it made me hurt and that felt good. Because I was hurting anyway, and being able to make it worse when I wanted to made me feel like I could control it."

Scourge doesn't say anything.

"But that wasn't true," Fiona says. Her voice shakes just a little, and without thinking Scourge takes her hand. It's stupid (sentimental) but she smiles faintly. "I wasn't healing or in control or anything. I was just hurting myself. And I can't stand watching you do the same."

"Babe," Scourge begins hoarsely.

"Tell me it's not the same," Fiona says flatly. "Or tell me- tell me that if I went back to that prison and crawl through that tunnel I dug with my own hands and relive every moment of the hell I went through, that you wouldn't stop me. That you would watch me do it."

He can't tell her that. He can't tell her that and she knows it.

Scourge looks away.

Fiona sighs and runs her hand along his spines. "He's not your dad, Scourge," she says quietly. "He's an entirely different person. Hurting yourself isn't going to make anything better."

"Okay," Scourge agrees. "Okay." Then, after a moment, "Thanks, babe."

Fiona smiles again, and there's something so sad about it he squeezes her hand again (uncool, but it's not like there's anyone else to see it). "No problem, hun."

He goes back again the next day.

This time, the wife is there too.

Scourge crouches in the massive oak tree beside the window, pretending he doesn't feel like a massive creep. His green fur blends neatly with the leaves, rendering him all but invisible to any casual observers, particularly when it's not-quite-light. With luck, it'll fool robian eyes as well.

Anyway.

Scourge doesn't remember his mother. She was simply never in the picture; whether because of death or divorce he never knew. Generally, he suspects the latter - months upon months of neglect, of being constantly passed over and ignored for the more important burdens of the state and the good of the people - yeah, he can see how a divorce would happen. Not that he'll ever know now.

The hedgehog in the kitchen doesn't look neglected. She throws her arms around the robian, not seeming to mind the cold metal, and dances around him as they prepare breakfast. The robian, in turn, leans into her touches and takes advantage of a moment of distraction to dab pancake batter on her nose. It's disgusting. Scourge gags.

Part of him wonders what he's gaining out of this. Hiding in a tree, spying on some losers and their dumb domestic life - not exactly fitting behavior for the former king of Moebius, after all.

It's not... It's not that Fiona's right. It's not like he's hurting himself - like he told Fiona, he's Scourge the Hedgehog. He doesn't do that emotions garbage. That kind of wimpiness is more Sonic's thing.

(Let alone that Fiona had said it happened to her. Let alone that she's usually right, and that she's one of the strongest people he knows.)

He's just curious. That's all. Nothing more, nothing less.

(The voice in his head sounding suspiciously like Fiona whispers, Yeah, right.)

Inside the kitchen, the robian starts flipping pancakes. For a second, Scourge tries to imagine his own father like that: Jules the Hedgehog, king of Moebius, flipping pancakes in a frilly pink apron and laughing with his wife. Arguing over who gets to wake up their son. Talking and hugging and laughing and living -

- and the illusion dissipates. Jules wouldn't set foot in a kitchen. He had servants to do that kind of thing, just like he had servants to take care of his son.

Scourge drops down from the tree branch and lands lightly on his feet. He's done here. He slinks off into the streets, hiding his face from the strengthening sunlight as synthetic laughter rings out behind him.

"Hey, Simian," Scourge says a few days later.

Simian continues lifting weights without slowing. "Yes?"

Scourge likes Simian, as much as he likes anyone. The ape is steady and has a solid head on his shoulders, and while it's kind of a drag most times, he does occasionally have helpful bits of advice. And when he goes loose on the battlefield, he can be really fun to fight alongside.

So that, plus the fact that Hawk doesn't care and Lightning would probably make fun of him and he'd rather eat his own shoes than talk to Fly, makes him Scourge's best option.

Scourge swings his legs back and forth as they dangle off the chair and tries to think of a way to broach it. He just needs to be subtle, right? "When was the last time you saw your parents?"

And maybe that wasn't super subtle after all, because Simian stops in the middle of his workout session (he never stops in the middle of a workout session) to stare at him. It feels... extremely uncomfortable, actually, wow. Scourge hops up and starts his stretches (anything to avoid looking back).

"When I last left my village, I was eighteen," Simian says at last. He sounds thoughtful, which is never a good sign. "That was several years ago... six years, I believe."

"That long, huh?" Scourge moves to quad stretches. "You're pretty old, man. Slowing down anytime soon?"

He's rewarded with a sharp grin. "I'm not that old. Though I suppose most people look slow next to you."

"Damn straight!"

"Why do you ask?"

And that's the issue - when even Scourge isn't sure why he's asking. He takes his time answering. "Oh, you know... just curious. Ever think about 'em?"

There's another ponderous silence, which mostly just succeeds in making Scourge antsy. Well, antsier.

"Sometimes," Simian says. "But I am a dedicated member of this team. You can rest assured of that."

And that's nice, but it's not what he's asking-

"...but that's not what you're asking, is it?"

Scourge freezes. Is he just that transparent? Why can everyone suddenly read his mind now? "What're you on about, man?" he deflects.

Simian shakes his head. "I do miss them, sometimes. It is natural for children to miss their parents."

"Not me!" Scourge laughs, and if it comes out a little too sharp, well, who's to blame him?

"Of course," Simian says, sounding vaguely indulgent. "Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

"Uh, sure," Scourge lies. "A little heavy on the oversharing, but it's cool." And then he scarpers, because if super speed's good for anything it's for escaping uncomfortable conversations. Simian doesn't say anything about it later, and thank Chaos because he doesn't think he'd be able to face Fiona if she ever got wind of that little talk.

The next time he's in town, Scourge picks up a new set of woodworking knives and leaves it on Simian's equipment. It's not like he's gone soft, buying presents for his friends or whatever, Scourge tells himself. He's just... buying Simian's silence. It's a bribe, is all.

(Simian saves him some extra ice cream the night after and that's that.)

It is natural for children to miss their parents, Simian had said. Ha! As if. Scourge hasn't missed his old man a day of his life and he's not about to start now.

... that'd carry more weight if he wasn't spending two or three mornings a week moping outside their kitchen.

Scourge sips his frappe and pretends he's not sulking. Right now, he's outside some random diner in Knothole in full disguise, complete with a trenchcoat, fedora, and sunglasses. He was honestly expecting someone to stop him before now - this kind of garb is about as suspicious as it gets - but no one seemed to even notice anything out of the ordinary. Idiots.

Fiona would kill him if she knew the kind of risks he's taking - which, of course, is why she doesn't need to know.

Scourge checks the time. Seven o'clock, meaning the wife is just getting up and they're having breakfast right now - Chaos, he has their entire morning schedule memorized, doesn't he? Fiona was right, he is obsessed. Scourge slumps over the table and buries his head in his arms.

He can still turn this around. Knowing their schedule is useful, from a strategic standpoint; he could threaten them, take them hostage... even kill them. Sonic would be taken completely offguard. It would be simple. Easy. The smart thing to do.

Scourge's groan is only partially muffled by the table.

"...you alright, son?"

What-

Something electric shoots up his spine. Scourge's claws dig into the edges of the table with a crunch as he bolts upright. And there, before him, with a look so familiar but so foreign in his eyes is-

He's not the same.

His skin is metallic where it should be flesh, plated where it should be furred. His eyes burn a bright pixelated red when they should be brown. That stupid tuft of fur on his head is shining chrome that glints under the bright sun.

But the way he stands - colored though it is with a hint of a soldier's posture - that proud tilt of his chin, the gentleness in his hands as they reach out to him -

It's Jules.

It's different from seeing him in that dim, lamp-lit room. In the daylight, the differences are exaggerated - and so are the similarities.

For a second, Scourge can only see his dad standing there.

He reacts on instinct. Scourge rears back and smacks Jules' outstretched hand away. "Don't touch me!"

Jules straightens up, virtual eyes widening with shock. "I'm- I'm sorry, it looked like you were unhappy. I only meant to-"

"Well, don't," Scourge spits. "Get lost."

Jules looks at him longer and then, for some Chaos-forsaken reason, doesn't leave. Why isn't he leaving, Scourge thinks furiously, and only realizes he's breathing heavy when his breaths start coming too fast and harsh in his ears. Jules says something, but the words don't make sense and he can't tear his gaze away from the polished metal. Beneath his fingertips, the table starts to splinter.

And then there's warm hands on his shoulders, and a steady voice in his ears, saying, "Listen to me. Do you want me to leave?"

Nothing comes out of his throat. Scourge shakes helplessly. He wants him to leave, he wants him stay, he wants to never see him again. He wants his dad.

Jules must take it as permission to stay, because he doesn't leave. The grip on his shoulders is a solid, unmoving presence, and Scourge can't help but lean into it. "I'm going to count slowly. Try to match your breathing to my voice - it's alright if you can't. Starting now. One, two..."

For some completely batty reason, he tries, and it helps some. His breathing is a little too fast and a lot shaky, still, but it settles into a more even pace instead of the uncontrollable rush. Sense comes back slowly, and with it, an acute, uncomfortable awareness of what just happened.

Well. At least he's not crying.

Scourge stands abruptly, tearing himself from Jules' arms. The robian raises a brow but doesn't protest. "Are you feeling better?" he asks instead. It's entirely casual, with no hint of pity, and Scourge hates himself a little for being pathetically grateful.

"Peachy," Scourge snaps and whirls around, hiking up his collar. Jules isn't screaming yet, so he clearly hasn't realized who he is, and Scourge is in no hurry to correct him. Honestly, this hedgehog's stupidity knows no bounds.

"Well." The robian stands up, reaches for a grocery bag that Scourge only just realized was there, and adds, "Stay safe, son."

Scourge's vision briefly whites out from fury. "Don't call me that," he snarls and takes off running before Jules can reply.

He finds a secluded place in a lonely corner, throws his warp ring, and promises himself that he'll never go back.

Scourge does some research.

It's called a panic attack, apparently. Common among soldiers, which is probably why Jules knew what to do - he said he'd been on the front lines, hadn't he? Common among victims of PTSD, the website says, and Scourge scoffs and closes the tab. Trauma - ridiculous. Scourge doesn't do trauma. If anything, he gives it to other people.

He's still snickering at his joke when Hawk comes in to tell him that Finitevus called in with another job. Normally, Scourge would tell him to screw off, but he's offering a massive stack of Anarchy beryl in return - something they've been in short supply of since they ditched Moebius.

Scourge's body itches at the thought of going super again. He accepts.

Thirty minutes later, they're waist-deep in smashed Eggman bots and struggling to fend off a fresh wave while Fiona and Hawk bicker over the terminal.

"I'm telling you, if we do that, we'll get locked out of the system entirely!" Fiona snaps.

Hawk throws up his hands. "Fine! Ignore me! It's not like you literally just have to enter the code or anything!"

Scourge spindashes down the line of Eggpawns, smashing through them like paper. He hits the wall at the right angle to bounce right off and uncurls in midair to land on his feet.

"Wrap it up, guys!" he yells and ducks beneath a stray kunai. "Watch it, Lightning!"

"Thought you were supposed to be the fast one," Lightning calls back.

"And I thought you were supposed to be able to aim!"

"I can." Lightning flicks a wrist and Scourge drops backward into a roll to avoid the next kunai that comes his way. When he springs back onto his feet, ready to chew out the idiotic trigger-happy lynx, there's a Badnik pinned to the wall right where he'd been standing. Lightning shoots him a smug grin.

"Right back atcha," Scourge mutters and barrels through the cluster taking potshots at Hawk and Fi.

"Ugh, fine!" Fiona shoves Hawk away and starts typing furiously.

Scourge drops another five Badniks and skids to a stop as an Egg Launcher smashes through the wall directly in front of him. "Fiona!"

"Give us a minute," Hawk snarls back.

The Launcher brings its arms down to eye level and Scourge leaps into the air as its targeting system locks on - and then Fly drops out of nowhere onto on its shoulders. "Need help?" the frog giggles (sweet Chaos Scourge hates him) and rips the thing's head off. Scourge blitzes right through its chest.

As its body slumps bonelessly to the floor, another Launcher steps through the wall behind it... and another one. And another. Chaos.

"If those things unload all those missiles in here, we're going to have a problem," Lightning says, echoing Scourge's own thoughts.

"Out of the way," Simian grunts, swinging the first bot's disembodied missile launcher-slash-arm onto his shoulder and taking aim.

"Are you nuts, man?" Scourge yells. "Didn't you hear Lightning? You fire that thing and this whole building's going down!"

"Better have the exit ready, then," Simian returns evenly.

"Got it!" Fiona announces, jumping up from the terminal with a chip in hand. Hawk follows, looking severely disgruntled. "Turns out we really did just have to enter the code. Hah."

"I told you," Hawk begins, but Fiona waves him off.

"You were right once, don't go getting a big head. You got the ring ready, sweetie?"

"Everyone over here! You miss the ring, we're leavin' you behind!" Scourge doesn't wait for a response and throws the warp ring. The portal spins into existence, glistening faintly in the electric light, and they all pile in. Simian fires off a final missile salvo before the ring vanishes and they tumble haphazardly into the Doc's lair to the sound of the entire base going up.

For a second, no one moves, too tired and bruised and tangled together to bother getting up. Lightning sighs heavily from the bottom of the heap. Scourge laughs.

"I trust you have what I asked for?" Finitevus asks from literally two feet away, and Scourge isn't even going to question how he knew where they'd end up. After all, they are at his mercy inside his weird evil lair, and Scourge knows how to be tactful.

Scourge props himself up on an elbow. "So do you like, practice being creepy, or is it natural?"

Without looking, Fiona smacks him in the back of the head.

"Ow!"

"We have it," Fiona says, extricating herself from the tangle. Scourge considers tripping her as she walks past, decides against it, and settles for hooking his ankle around Hawk's heel as he stands up. The bird goes down with a satisfying squawk right on top of Lightning and the ensuing chaos lets Scourge hop up onto his own feet.

Fiona ignores it.

"All the files relating to the roboticization process are on this USB," she says, holding it out. Finitevus takes it and, after a moment's inspection, slips it into his robes.

"So why'd you want that, Doc?" Scourge asks, adjusting his sunglasses. "Woulda thought that robot stuff wasn't quite your style."

"It is true that roboticization is a perversion of the natural order and representative of that which I seek to destroy," Finitevus concedes. "But I am not opposed to much that will give me the advantage against my nemeses. And I must admit the idea of enslaving your opponent's will to your own has a certain... charm."

Scourge and Fiona exchange a look - of the literally why is he like this and the why do we talk to him again variety - and Scourge shoves his hands in his pockets and steps up. "Uh... yeah, man. Totally. Anyway, if we're done here, can we have the beryl now?"

"Of course. But first, I have one more task for you."

Scourge scoffs disbelievingly. "Are you kidding? The deal was we break into Eggman's lab, steal your stupid information, and hand it over. We've done that. It took like forever and it was a massive pain in the butt the whole time, we are not adding anything else onto that and that's final."

"...I'll double the amount of beryl."

Scourge hesitates.

... which is how they ended up here. Scourge crouches on the windy rooftop, tugging his dumb fancy suit jacket closer and hoping idly that something happens soon. "Can we go in yet?" he asks.

Hawk, who's busy adjusting his own disguise, shakes his head. "You really have no patience at all, do you?"

"Nope!" Scourge tugs on his overly-tight tie and mostly just makes it worse. "How 'bout now?"

"If you were any good at infiltration, Fiona would've let you go in already," Hawk says. He's typing on his communicator, syncing all their devices into something they can actually use. It's not that Hawk's particularly adept at technology, or anything; it's just that all the rest of them are so abysmal at anything electric that tech duty usually falls to him or Fiona. "Unless Plan C falls through, you're not headed in 'till the last minute."

Scourge sighs loudly, letting his feet dangle off the edge of the building. "I could just walk in and grab him. They wouldn't even see me coming. Then we wouldn't have to spend a million years sitting out in the cold."

Hawk doesn't look up. "And then Sonic would pursue, and then we'd have to fight him off while trying to kidnap a geriatric former soldier without killing him. Which, given our previous track record..."

The bird trails off and Scourge grimaces. Yeah. They'd given up on kidnappings for a reason. They wouldn't have even considered this one if not for the offer of Anarchy beryl - which has been in extremely short supply recently, given they can't hop dimensions without instantly snagging Zonic's individual attention. And it's not like Scourge isn't flattered that the self-important dimensional cop will drop everything for a chance at catching him, but he's not planning on seeing the inside of Zone Jail ever again.

Anyway. It's a small blessing that Zonic hasn't come looking for them personally, or sent Sonic after them, but it's one Scourge isn't willing to throw away just for a power-up. Thus the kidnapping mission.

Scourge swings his legs contemplatively and longs for Fiona to hurry up so he can bash some heads.

Right on cue, their communicators ring. "Alright, boys," Fiona's voice comes through a little tinnily. "You ready?"

"Heck yeah," Scourge says immediately.

"Ready to go whenever," Hawk confirms.

"Roger. Meet me where we agreed." The comms unit crackles and goes silent. Scourge hops up and starts stretching quickly, trying to limber up his half-frozen muscles. Hawk sets his communicator down and picks the lock on the trapdoor they'd been sitting next to. Once it's open, they slip down a small flight of stairs and through an empty hallway. At the end, they take a right through another hall and stop outside a janitor's closet.

Scourge raps on the door. "Knock, knock," he says.

There's a moment of silence. Then Lightning opens the door. "Hurry up," he whispers, peering over their shoulders.

Scourge clicks his tongue in disappointment. "Dude, you're supposed to say 'who's there.'"

"Yeah, Lightning," Fiona says from inside. "You're ruining the script."

"I- what?" Lightning sputters. "You people are so immature. Simian, can you tell them to shut up?"

There's a good fifteen seconds of judgemental silence. "...you should've said 'who's there.'"

Lightning rolls his eyes and Scourge pushes past him into the room. Simian nods as he enters and Fly, who's doing something he can't quite make out, cackles in a corner. Scourge spreads his arms wide. "Alright, I'm here now, the party can start!"

"Good to have you," Fiona says. She's sitting on an overturned bucket, one ankle folded over her knee and eyes glued to her phone. "Alright, so Plan A failed."

"Yes!"  Scourge cheers, pumping a fist in the air.

Fiona shoots him a glare. "We weren't able to get him away from his bodyguards and the speech is about to start soon. I didn't want to do this in front of a crowd, but we may not have a choice. Right now, we only have to deal with the normal security and Sonic. After the ceremony, they're going to meet up with a bunch of Sonic's friends before going back home to Knothole."

"Wouldn't it be better to wait, then?" Simian asks, folding his arms.

Fiona shakes her head. "No for two reasons. We can handle the normal security easily, especially if we use the crowd for meatshields while Scourge is distracting Sonic. Sonic's friends are, frankly, a much greater threat than the security, and they will not be holding back. And if we wait until they go back to Knothole, we have that... woman to deal with."

Everyone shudders at the mention of Nicole. Their last attempt on Knothole is not a memory anyone wants to relive.

"So if we use the crowd for cover and Scourge's able to distract Sonic for long enough, this is doable," Fiona resumes. "We'll just have to time it right. And we can not let Sonic know our target at all costs. If he realizes we're trying to kidnap his uncle, he won't let the old man out of his sight, and our job will get a lot harder. Got that?"

A quick briefing on everyone's roles later and it's time to go. Scourge starts to follow the guys out the door and is caught short by Fiona's hand on his wrist. "Sweetie, can I talk to you for a second?" she asks and drags him back inside before he can answer.

She turns him loose and Scourge spins around, rubbing his wrist. "Alright, if this is about what I think it's about-"

"Don't worry, I'm not yelling at you. Just..." she trails off to stare at him.

Scourge tries not to fidget and goes for a confident smile, propped up against the wall. "Babe, don't worry about me. This'll be a lark."

"It's... you know." Fiona shrugs and apparently decides to just go for it. "You've been having issues about your dad. I need to know if that'll affect your performance here."

"What?" Scourge is almost kind of offended. If it was anyone but Fi asking, he would be offended. "Babe, my uncle was a total nutjob. Like, worse than my old man. No issues here."

Fiona looks at him a second longer. "Alright," she says at last. "If you say so. I'm counting on you."

She brushes past him on her way out, squeezing his hand on the way, which is nice since she's weird about stuff like that. Scourge follows a minute later.

I require one more thing for my research, Finitevus had said. Charles the Hedgehog. Inventor of the roboticization process. He is receiving an award for his technological advancements in Central City in two days. Bring him to me alive and you will have your full reward.

Scourge scans the crowd for Charles now, leaning on the fancy railing of the fancy indoors balcony overlooking the fancy banquet hall. There's a name for a balcony like this - a mezzasomething - but he can't remember what it is. Maybe Fiona would know.

Scourge tugs at the collar of his unbearably fancy suit jacket and longs for his sunglasses.

He'd told Fiona the truth earlier - his uncle was a wackjob. Paranoid, jittery, simultaneously ravenous for power and terrified of it - no one had liked him, least of all his nephew.

Jules had liked him, probably. Enough to give him a home and a laboratory for his crazy experiments and to turn a blind eye when they started getting darker and more deadly. That had gone on up until Charles had invented a machine that turned moebians to robots, and its first (unwilling) test subject had been Jules.

Yeah. After Ivo managed to save Jules' life, they'd put a stop to that real quick.

They'd told Scourge that Charles had gone far away to someplace he could be happy. He still remembers that scene - Jules crouching down before him with mournful eyes, one arm cold and stiff where the roboticization process had gotten it before Ivo had pulled him out. His flesh hand had been warm and comforting on his shoulder, and Scourge had been so distracted by the touch that he hadn't even cared that his uncle was gone. He'd faked tears just to get Jules to stay with him a little longer.

Scourge shakes his head wildly, dissipating the memories. Anyway, it was painfully obvious in hindsight that Charles had either been jailed or executed for treason. Not that Scourge would have cared either way. Mostly, he's just vaguely curious to see what Charles is like in this world. Still a mad scientist, or something more benevolent?

A mass of whispering erupts at the main entryway of the hall. Scourge straightens up.

A bunch of bodyguards in black enter, followed by a few people who could be family or friends. Sonic's there, obviously, and next to him can only be Uncle Charles.

Scourge doesn't really remember his uncle; he was, after all, a kid when the guy vanished, and he avoided him whenever possible. But the face before him is undeniably like his own. He has the same sloping forehead, the same pointed muzzle. Honestly, he looks exactly like Sonic with a mustache.

Scourge leans forward, intrigued, as the old guy says something that has Sonic pitching forward in laughter. It's weird, seeing him. Not like seeing Jules, or even like seeing the mom. Just... weird.

Not the kind of weird that Fiona's worried about, thank Chaos. No, he'll have no problems handing this schmuck over to the Doc.

Charles and his little squad sit down in the front row while the bodyguards split up to cover the exits. Scourge tracks their positions automatically, mostly focused on the target. Charles claps his nephew on the back and leans over to whisper something in his ear. Scourge looks away with a sneer.

The ceremony starts. A bunch of people Scourge doesn't know talk about a bunch of things he doesn't understand, blah blah blah. Scourge yawns and taps a tattoo on the railing with his claws. Luckily, all the civilians seem to have gone down to the seating area, so he's alone on the balcony. As long as the security doesn't notice him, he should have no problem staying under the radar until it's time to make his move. Until then, he amuses himself trying to find the rest of the Destructix hidden in the crowd.

Down below, the speeches start wrapping up. Charles ruffles his nephew's quills one last time and heads up to the stage. Scourge straightens up as he accepts his award and takes the mic.

"First, I'd like to thank you all for being here today," the hedgehog says. Scourge taps his foot impatiently. "I know it's a bit of a long way for a lot of you - we've got some visitors from Holoska, even! - and it means a lot to me that you'd take the time to make it here today. So thank you."

Ugh, so boring. Can't Fiona hurry up? At this rate, they'll be doing the audience a favor by sparing them all this drivel.

"- of the University of Spagonia for funding my research and going out of his way to help me whenever I needed it. Thank you, old friend."

Scourge taps his communicator and almost jumps when it crackles to life.

"Alright, everyone's in position," Fiona says. "On my mark, Scourge, you're going to distract Sonic. Jump down there, challenge him to a fight, anything. His sole concern needs to be beating you up."

"All he has to do is be himself and Sonic'll be jumping at the chance to tear him a new one," Lightning interjects. "Works on me."

"Oh, shut up," Scourge says. "Fiona, tell him to shut up."

"...well, he has a point."

Lightning's amused huff is audible over the comm. Scourge rolls his eyes. Traitors, all of them.

Fiona's voice goes serious. "But for real. Get him mad and get him out of here. Make him chase you 'till I call you back, and don't give him a second to realize there's more going on. If he comes back here before we're done, it's over. Okay?"

"I got it handled, babe," Scourge says. "Worry about yourself."

"Believe me, I am." The comms go silent a second later. Scourge stands up, shakes the stiffness from his limbs, and hops up to crouch on the railing. It's showtime.

On stage, Charles is still talking. Does the hedgehog not know how to shut up? "And finally, I'd like to thank my family, who loved and supported me every step of the way, up to and including being here with me today as I accept this award. Sonic, my amazing nephew - you've grown so much and, while I wasn't there for all of it-"

Well, that's enough of that. Scourge leaps into the air, curls up, and lands a perfectly executed homing attack on the podium. Splinters, chunks of wood, and a massive dust cloud fly everywhere. Someone in the audience screams, and behind him he can hear Charles stumbling back and coughing furiously.

"Uncle Chuck!" In the front row, Sonic rockets to his feet and dashes forward, only to come skidding to a stop. As the dust dissipates, Scourge grins. He can feel the light glinting off his fangs.

"Long time no see, faker," Scourge spits. He pulls his sunglasses out of the stupid suit jacket's pocket and slides them on with a flourish. "Can't exactly say it's a pleasure seeing you... then again, I always look forward to a chance to kick your butt."

"Wh- Scourge?" the blue idiot sputters. The shock only lasts a matter of seconds before fading, as the flabbergasted expression turns into something more like a smirk. "Well, well. I haven't heard from you since I demolished you and left Zonic to drag your sorry carcass away. Did they let you out on good behavior?"

Good behavior. Hah. As if Sonic knows anything about what goes on in Zone Jail. "Please. I smashed my way out of there the first week. The Zone Jail's in shambles; just ask Zonic! Oh wait - you can't." He laughs.

Sonic's smile slips a notch and the quills on his back bristle. "What happened to Zonic?"

Scourge keeps laughing.

"Alright, pincushion. Maybe you'll tell me when I beat it out of you!" Apparently done talking, Sonic curls up into a spindash. Scourge, still laughing, topples off the wrecked podium and leaves Sonic to smash into the stage where he'd been standing. People are screaming, someone's escorting Charles off the stage, and Scourge is reveling in the chaos.

"Slowing down, blue boy?" he mocks him. "You'll never find out about your stupid friend if you can't even touch me." Zonic's perfectly fine, actually, unless you count the truckload of paperwork Scourge saddled him with after his escape from Zone Jail. Not that Sonic needs to know that, 'cause if anything ticks him off, it's a threat to one of his friends.

And, true to form, Sonic snarls wordlessly and Scourge knows he's got him.

"You're looking kind of slow today - let's see if those legs of yours still work," Scourge calls over his shoulder and takes off. The world blurs around him as he taps into his speed, rockets between panicked partygoers and confused waiters and angry bodyguards. Out of the corner of his eye, he briefly spots Fiona crouching behind a pillar before she's blown away in his wake. Like this, outside sounds, sights, everything drops away, leaving him alone with himself and the wind.

It's nice. Peaceful, even.

And then the only other being who can keep up with him barrels into his side, sending them tumbling over each other right through the big open doors outside. Scourge lands a kick to Sonic's chest, sending him spinning away, and sprints down a sidestreet towards the marketplace. A moment later, the sound of footsteps running at 300 mph picks up behind him.

Scourge grins. The plan's working, then - Sonic's so ticked that he hasn't even stopped to wonder why Scourge isn't stopping to fight, or why he crashed the party in the first place. Now he just has to play this out 'till Fiona's done.

"Been slacking your exercise regimen lately? 'Cause I thought you were faster than this!" Scourge calls out.

"That so?" Sonic returns. The sound is unexpectedly close and Scourge looks back to see Sonic running only a few paces behind him. "I could say the same for you."

Scourge growls and vaults a fruit cart, sending it flying with a back kick. Sonic dodges the cart and dives through the onslaught of flying fruit, coming up without a scratch. Scourge's gained a precious few seconds, but in a contest of speed, those seconds mean everything. He blocks Sonic's path - kicking over trash cans, dodging in front of moving cars, knocking a baby out of its mother's arms with a well placed swipe. Sonic dodges the trash cans, goes over or around the vehicles, and loses a good fifteen seconds saving the baby. By the time they've cleared the marketplace, Scourge is about thirty feet ahead and gaining.

"What's wrong?" Sonic yells. "Scared of a little fight?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Scourge yells back. "Dunno 'bout you, but I'm not wasting my time fighting someone too slow to keep up!" Up ahead, a pile of trash bags is stacked against a sloping wall, reaching up to the edge of the roof. Scourge leaps up in a single bound and sprints along the rooftop. Behind, the trash bags crinkle as Sonic races up, and tiles creak as the hedgehog fights for balance. Scourge snorts and picks up speed.

The rooftop run is fraught with near-misses and almost-falls. This area of town has a mixture of buildings; some are modern and boxy, with flat tops, but there's a number of older structures with pointed tile roofs. Scourge skids down the sloping ridge of one of these, slips off the building, snags a flagpole on the way down and turns his fall into a launch point. He lands upright on the narrow ledge of a skyscraper and darts along the line of windows, flashing a mock salute at some goggle-eyed kid in its bedroom.

Sneakered feet hit the concrete behind him as Sonic pursues, grinning despite his ferocious eyes.

Scourge hooks a fast right as the ledge ends and drops down to the top level of the parking garage nestled against the 'scraper. Mostly he's planning on going back down to street level, but Sonic puts on a burst of speed and tackles him right there.

They roll head over heels across the concrete, colliding with a dusty pickup truck hard enough to dent in the side. Scourge throws himself out of the way and rolls onto his feet just as Sonic picks himself up. The blaring car alarm is the only sound as they stare each other down.

Sonic moves first. He doesn't bother curling up, just lunges fist first at Scourge's face. Scourge ducks the punch and goes in low for Sonic's solar plexus, narrowly dodging a knee to his face. Sonic slams his heel down on Scourge's foot and drives an elbow into his neck. Scourge stumbles back, falling into a roll to avoid Sonic's left hook, and comes up on his feet with room to spare.

There's another moment of staring and circling as they pant heavily and pretend they're not.

And then Sonic steps something that crunches and looks down.

Scourge lunges. Sonic sidesteps him easily and snatches it up - and wait, Chaosdammit that's his communicator-

"Is this a mic?" Sonic asks disbelievingly and then the pieces click.

He stares at Scourge blankly, and Scourge can practically see his train of thought - comms means accomplices, accomplices means there's a plan, a plan means Sonic was intentionally drawn out here away from the ceremony, and if Sonic's out here then -

Then -

Scourge swears and moves to tackle Sonic but the idiot's already gone. Instinctively, his hand goes to his ear - "Fiona, he's coming your way, I-" No, wait, Sonic's got the communicator and it's broken anyway, dammit. The plan's falling apart and it's entirely his fault.

Well. It hasn't fallen apart yet.

Scourge takes off, running full-tilt after Sonic. The irony of the situation isn't lost on him, not that he appreciates it. Sonic's trail is a direct beeline back to the hall. It should be easy to follow, but for some reason Scourge can't catch up those last few feet.

"I thought you wanted to fight, you dingus!" Scourge snaps. "Make up your mind already, sheesh!"

"You tricked me," Sonic growls.

"Uh, yeah? I'm the bad guy. It's kinda what I do."

"What's your actual plan?"

"Thought you were gonna beat me up and find out?"

Sonic snarls and, impossibly, picks up speed. Scourge has to drop the conversation entirely to focus on just keeping up.

They hit the convention hall scarce minutes later. There's clearly a fight going on inside; explosions and the faint sound of screaming accompany the flood of people battering down the doors in their desperation to escape. The Destructix are clearly having fun... and more importantly, haven't escaped yet. What on Moebius are they doing?!

Sonic zips through the crowd, dodging panicking mobians with practiced ease. Scourge doesn't bother; he kicks one middle-aged cat into the heart of the rush and vaults over the resulting pileup without missing a step. "Babe! Hope you're wrapping it up in there!" he yells as they burst into the ceremony hall.

The Destructix are more than holding their own. The security has been almost entirely cleared out; fallen guards litter the area while none of their own are even scratched. Fiona, wielding a G.U.N. issue stun pistol, jerks up in surprise as Sonic skids into the room. "Scourge, you had one job!" she screeches.

"So did you!" Scourge rams into Sonic from behind, sending them both flying into a row of seating. Scourge comes out on top. "What happened to Ch- the target?" he asks, pinning Sonic down with an elbow to his throat.

"Escaped," Fiona says grimly. "We've already informed the Doc... and, uh, we have a new objective now."

Sonic makes a choked-off sound and Scourge leans down harder. Something shifts behind him but he ignores it. "Alright, what is it?"

Fiona hesitates.

And then cold metal claws clamp down around his shoulder and tear him off Sonic, lifting him bodily into the air. The hedgehog wheezes for breath on the ground, but Scourge isn't paying attention. He's not paying attention to anything anymore, because in front of him-

"What the hell are you doing here," Scourge breathes.

Artificial red eyes burn into his own. "Don't touch my son," says Jules, and the anger in his voice causes every limb in Scourge's body to lock up with instinctive fear.

Of course Jules is here, Charles is his brother, why wouldn't he attend the ceremony - hadn't the blasted hedgehog said as much during his speech? Scourge should've realized it then. This was a bad idea, they need to get out of here, why did Scourge even come here in the first place-

Something in Jules' mechanical expression thaws.

The clawhold on his shoulder eases as he's lowered to his feet, but Scourge's brain is still spinning in circles. He's gone completely unresponsive, some part of him knows, but he can't think.

"Get away from him!" Fiona yells and plants a high kick right in the center of Jules' chest. The robian goes flying, pursued by Simian, and Hawk swoops down behind them to tackle Sonic away. "Babe," Fiona says, kneeling down beside Scourge, feeling frantically at his shoulder. "Did he get you?"

The world shifts a little bit back into place. "No," Scourge mutters. "Fiona, I don't-"

"Save it." Fiona's eyes are full of worry as she grabs his wrist and hauls him to his feet. "I think you need to sit this one out, sweetie."

"What? No." Scourge grips her hand like a lifeline. "I can fight. I can still fight."

"Scourge... the new target is Jules."

Something in his chest catches. Scourge stares at her, and around them, the noise of the battle seems to fade. "...what? Why?"

Fiona grimaces. "We lost the inventor of roboticization. Next best thing is its last survivor."

"No. We're not doing that." Scourge has no idea what he's doing, only that they cannot hand his- hand Jules over to Finitevus. He catches both her hands in his own and squeezes them tight. "Call off the mission, we're going home."

Fiona stares at him. "What? Scourge, you can't be serious! After all the work we've put into this? And what about the beryl?"

"We already got the beryl from the first mission. We'll be careful and save it until we can restock. We've gotten this far without any beryl at all, we don't need it that badly!" Scourge hesitates. "...Fiona, please."

It's the last word that breaks her. She knows how bad he hates saying it, knows how much this means to him that he's saying it now. Her shoulders slump in defeat. "...fine. But you get to explain this to the Doc - and please, let's try to avoid burning that bridge again."

Scourge squeezes her hand one last time before letting go. "Thanks, Fi. And don't worry about the Doc; I'll take care of him."

"That's what I'm worried about," Fiona grumbles, but she's smiling. "Alright, team," she calls out, pulling out her warp ring. "Mission's off. We're going home."

"Wait, what?" Hawk asks and nearly gets clobbered by Sonic for his trouble. "Why?"

"Ask questions when we get home," Fiona says and throws the ring. As the portal whooshes open, Scourge turns to survey the troops. Lightning and Simian are slowly retreating back to the portal, fighting Jules every step of the way, while Hawk and Fly are trying without much success to fend off Sonic long enough to run.

Scourge spindashes into Sonic, knocking him off-balance. "Get to the portal, idiots!" To Sonic, he adds, "Sorry, but it looks like we're cutting this date short." If Chaos has even a drop of mercy in its unforgiving soul, Sonic will have been too thoroughly distracted by the fight to have overheard his exchange with Fiona.

And it looks like for once, his prayers are answered, because Sonic's grin, strained with exhaustion though it is, hints at nothing off. "I'm not letting you get away this time," he says and launches into another spindash. "I still have some questions for you to answer!"

"Then they'll have to wait for next time." Scourge ducks the attack and slams his heel into Sonic as he passes, boosting his momentum to slam into the opposite wall. "Alright, time to go!" he yells, scrambling for the portal. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the rest of the Destructix doing the same.

Fiona's already waiting at the portal, with one leg halfway through, and-

"-aaaaaAAAUGH, WHAT THE HELL," she screams and falls back, pinwheeling wildly.

"Fiona!" Scourge yells and then the world blurs briefly and he's at her side, hauling her to her feet. "Fi, what's-" and then he screams too, because Finitevus is literally right there, climbing through the ring like a monster in a horror movie.

The battle cuts off. A few feet away, a newly recovered Sonic skids to a stop, staring incredulously. The Destructix are sort of ranged out behind him, looking to Scourge and Fiona for the next move. And who knows where Jules is.

"Dude," Scourge says emphatically, putting a hand to his chest. "Don't do that."

"What are you doing," Finitevus hisses.

Scourge makes a show of looking around. "Uh, escaping? I mean, what does it look like?"

"I should have known better than expect you lot to pull through," Finitevus mutters, and hey, that's actually kind of offensive.

"Hey! Screw you, man!" Scourge yells, shaking his fist. "We're leaving 'cause we want to, not 'cause we're losing!" Fiona slaps a palm to her face.

"Oh? And what possible reason could you have to do that?" Finitevus asks, but he doesn't seem very interested in an answer, because his hands flare with dark energy a second later, and Scourge knows what that means.

"Scatter!" he yells and hits the ground with Fiona as a bolt of Chaos energy goes right over their heads. Fiona rolls out from under him as he leaps to his feet.

Sonic seems to have switched targets. Currently, he's hammering away at Finitevus' defenses, running his mouth the whole time. The ring portal is still open behind Finitevus, but they need to get the crazy echidna out of the way first.

Fiona, as usual, is two steps ahead. "You're going to need to team up with Sonic."

"What, seriously? Can't we just let Sonic take care of the Doc and ditch?"

She gives him a flat look. "I don't know how he did it, but Finitevus must have hijacked the ring's signal and keyed it to his lair. I need time to reset it before we can leave. Just, you know-" she waves a hand vaguely. "Move the fight away. Whale on Finitevus. Keep them both off my back long enough for me to work."

"Ugh. Fine." Scourge turns around on his heel. "Hey, loser!" he calls out, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Five minute truce?"

Sonic uncurls in midair long enough to yell, "Make it two!"

Fiona had better work fast, because this isn't going to take long. "Destructix, watch Fiona's back," he orders and throws himself into the fight.

Finitevus was clearly anticipating something like this, because he moves smoothly into defending against the both of them without hesitation. And it's - frustrating. Whenever Scourge throws a punch, a ring portal swirls into being in just the right place to take his hit. If he tries a kick, the same thing. And Chaos forbid he spindashes, or he'll wind up on the opposite side of the room (or, more accurately, slamming into Sonic).

Between the ring portals and the constant misdirection, the two minute mark passes and they haven't landed a single hit. The guy isn't on their level, exactly, but he's unpredictable with enough tricks that he could probably take either of them on their own. Against both of them, he doesn't stand a chance - or he wouldn't if Sonic would get out of his way.

"Dude, we're supposed to be working together!" Sonic snaps.

Scourge flicks his ear (it's been ringing since Finitevus dropped a portal that sent a spindashing Sonic on a collision course with Scourge's face) and ducks beneath a Chaos-infused punch. "Not my fault you can't keep up."

He sidesteps a second punch and follows up with a roundhouse kick that comes inches from the Doc's face before another ring portal intercepts. Dammit.

Sonic, of course, chooses that moment to go for a homing attack, which takes him right into the portal as Finitevus dodges. From somewhere on the other side of the room, the moron makes a faint oomph sound as the portal spits him out.

Scourge rolls his eyes and sweeps his legs under Finitevus' ankles, forcing the echidna to stumble back. "You make a remarkably disloyal minion," Finitevus says and drops into a portal.

On a hunch, Scourge spins around and slams a haymaker into Finitevus' face when the echidna reappears behind him. "Calling me a minion was your first mistake, Doc," Scourge says. "I'm the king, baby."

Finitevus snarls and vanishes again. "I must wonder at the cause of this particular instance," his voice says. Scourge whirls around, fists up before him, but the scientist is nowhere to be seen. "You were, after all, so eager to serve at first. What changed your mind?"

"You really gotta learn the difference between serving and making a deal, bud," Scourge says. "This why your friends always leave you?"

Finitevus ignores him. "Nothing changed between then and now. Nothing... except the target." Something flickers in the corner of Scourge's eye and he starts to turn, but he's met with a blow to the jaw followed by one to the shin. Scourge crumples to his knee with a cry of pain and looks up to see Finitevus' Chaos-powered boot swing for his face-

And then someone's hand snags his wrist and they're moving.

The world blurs just a little as Sonic hauls him across the room at lightning speed to drag him behind an overturned table. Scourge clutches the lapels of his jacket and tries to force his racing heartbeat to settle. For a second, they just breathe.

"Okay, we need to coordinate," Sonic says belatedly.

"Don't tell me what to do," Scourge says, mostly on reflex.

Sonic rolls his eyes. "If you draw his fire, I'll go behind to take him offguard. Think you can do that?"

"What? No. You draw his fire and I'll sneak up behind him."

"Yeah, maybe I'd do that if I had any faith at all in your stealth. You aren't exactly subtle, bud."

Scourge thinks back to every mission that involved some level of sabotage/stealth/general sneakery and their inevitably disastrous ends and winces. Unfortunately, he has a point. "Fine, whatever. Don't mess this up, dweeb." A blast of chaos energy rocks the floor beneath their feet - time's up. Finitevus is here.

Scourge breaks for the left.

"Hey old man, having trouble keeping up?" He leaps into the air as Finitevus goes for a sweeping kick and curls into a spindash, aimed at the scientist's head. Predictably, he sails right into a ring portal and falls out several feet away. In midair, he uncurls and kicks off the ground to rebound towards Finietvus.

The Doc raises his hands coated in Chaos energy and actually catches the spindash. For a moment, they war against each other - dark energy to living buzzsaw - before Finitevus shoves back and they break apart.

Scourge hits the ground in a crouch and lunges again. This time, he feints an uppercut followed up with a knee strike to the gut. The echidna stumbles back, but recovers almost instantly. As Scourge goes in for another strike, Finitevus snags his collar and yanks him off-balance, slamming him into the dirt. Scourge tries to wriggle out of his grip, but the Doc pins him to the ground with a hand on his throat and a knee on his chest.

"I can't say I haven't been waiting for this," the mad scientist breathes, and raises a handful of swirling black energy.

Scourge scrabbles helplessly at his wrist and wonders, briefly, if this is it.

And then a blue ball of spikes rockets out of nowhere, smacking into the back of Finitevus' head so hard the floor creaks when he faceplants. Scourge kicks him off and rolls back onto his feet, smacking away Sonic's outstretched hand. The echidna staggers upright, but his shield is broken and Sonic and Scourge poised on either side of him. The echidna eyes them warily, rings at the ready, and for a second no one moves.

"Got it!" Fiona's voice breaks the spell.

Sonic's concentration slips. Scourge can see it; the way his posture straightens slightly, the way he half-turns to face her. Finitevus sees it too.

And then Finitevus' hands are up, radiating dark energy, and Scourge drops into a defensive stance 'cause the blue buffoon can get himself killed if he wants but Scourge is going down fighting- but Finitevus isn't looking at either of them.

He's looking behind them.

At Jules.

Jules, who has no Chaos abilities, can't break the sound barrier on a whim, can't dodge bullets point-blank.

Jules, who both is his father and isn't, who's a machine but still alive, who stood across from Scourge in a dark room and didn't flinch though Scourge held his life in his hands, who loves his wife and child and wouldn't hesitate to die for either of them.

Jules, who would walk a random stranger through a panic attack on the street but can't dodge a Chaos spear if it's pointed at his chest.

Time slows down to a crawl. Scourge doesn't think.

He just moves.

The last thing he sees, as pain erupts from his chest like lightning and the world is drowned out by the black of corrupted Chaos energy, is the bright red of Jules' horrified eyes.

There's a beeping noise somewhere near his ear. Fiona's phone, probably (even though it sounds nothing like her alarm). Scourge reaches up to shut it off and is stopped halfway by the clink of cold metal.

...huh?

He opens his eyes to dim electric light and a pounding headache. There's a hard surface beneath his back, thin sheets around him, and a metallic chill around his wrists, ankles, and throat.

Through the haze, something about the last one feels familiar.

Beside him, something rustles, and a soft voice says, "Awake, then?"

"Dad?" Scourge mumbles foggily. For a moment he's eight again, in the hospital after a near-drowning, and his dad took a whole day off from work to rush to his bedside and hold his hand. It was the first time he'd seen him in a week.

Then reality catches up and reminds him that no, his dad is dead and whatever's going on here is something to worry about. The fog is gone in an instant.

Scourge's eyes snap open and he throws himself as much he can to the far side of the bed from the figure standing there now. Jules is there - a little scratched and dinged up but very much alive.

There's a flicker of something like relief inside him before Scourge stuffs it down and crushes it very firmly. Chaos, Fiona was right. He let his stupid hangups about this robian get out of hand, and now look what's happened - the mission went south, Scourge is chained to a hospital bed, the rest of the Destructix are nowhere to be seen, and worst of all, he made a heroic sacrifice like he's Sonic or something.

Chaos, Scourge is never living this one down.

"It's good to see you're moving around already," Da- Jules says in that same too-soft tone. "Some of the doctors were convinced you wouldn't live another day. I suppose any son of mine, even from another dimension, is just too durned stubborn to go out like that..."

"Don't," Scourge rasps.

Jules blinks at him. "Pardon?"

"That." Scourge lets go of the bed's railing just long enough to gesture irritably. "I'm not your son. Don't call me that."

Instead of rearing back in offense or dropping the nice act altogether, Jules tilts his head slightly, as though in recognition. "Ah," he says after a moment. "So that was you."

Scourge freezes and tries to play it off. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"That day in front of Chuck's diner," Jules says. "That was you. I wasn't sure, since you were still supposed to be in Zone Jail then."

"Chuck's diner? What?" Scourge forces a laugh. It comes out entirely fake and just a little unhinged.

"You had a panic attack," Jules continues, unperturbed. "I walked you through it. Honestly, at the time, I thought it was because of me."

It was because of you, Scourge wants to say. Instead, he asks, "Whaddya mean?"

Jules gestures vaguely to himself. "I'm a robian," he says. "Robotnik put Knothole through a lot when the roboticizor was still functioning. Plenty of people have had... adverse reactions to my body in the past. It's unfortunate but can't really be helped, except through time and patience."

...for some reason, that stings. Scourge pushes the thought away and snorts. "Sucks to be you. Don't see what that has to do with me."

"You did ask," Jules reminds him, which is fair. He supposes. They lapse into silence.

Scourge slumps against the bed, a little more relaxed with no attack evidently imminent, and holds up a hand to the light. The dangling cuff glints coldly. He can't reach the collar on his neck, but he suspects it shines the same way - like the inhibitors back at Zone Jail. "You guys already talked to Zonic, then?" he guesses.

He's not really expecting an answer, but Jules gives one anyway. "We did. He gave us that inhibitor collar you're wearing right now." Nailed it. "He wanted to take you back with him to Zone Jail right away, but with the condition you were in, we didn't want to risk moving you until you were stable."

Scourge flexes his fingers, watching the muscles move. He'd suspected already, given how drained he feels right now, but knowing that he's wearing the collar is... disheartening. That level of powerlessness is something he'd never wanted to feel again. "I'm stable now. So when will you be moving me?"

Jules hesitates. "Now that you're awake, we'll probably call Zonic to pick you up sometime tomorrow. It's nighttime right now."

"What? How long was I out?"

"Two days."

Two days, and he's still here? Either the Destructix got nabbed too (possible), are planning a rescue mission (unlikely), or ditched (most likely). That... also stings. A lot. He'd liked Fiona, and he was getting used to the rest of the idiots, too.

"What about my team?" he asks.

"Vanished. They tried to retrieve you but retreated when reinforcements arrived."

It doesn't mean much - he is, after all, their strongest fighter and tactically it makes sense to avoid losing him if possible - but it makes Scourge feel better to know they'd at least tried. He lets his hand fall back to the bed with a metallic jingle.

"I still don't understand," Jules says, and Chaos, why won't he shut up? Is this something inherent to Sonic's family? "Why did you save me?"

Scourge inspects the patterns of cracks on the ceiling. That one looks like Sleuth Dog's face. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he mumbles.

"You took an attack meant for me. That much concentrated Chaos energy would've killed me - it's likely the only reason you survived is because you're a very adept controller."

"Sounds like you already have an answer to me."

There's a brief pause. Scourge continues avoiding eye contact. "I do have an idea," Jules says softly. "But I'd like to hear a confirmation from your own mouth."

Scourge doesn't say anything.

What's he supposed to say - that every time he sees Jules some stupid, long-dead part of him longs for his approval? That Jules is dredging up memories better left buried? That when he saw his dad - any version of him - in danger, that his first instinct was to protect him, despite everything he'd done?

Ha. Yeah, right.

"Think what you want, old man." Scourge bares his teeth. "It doesn't mean anything. It was an accident."

Jules doesn't waver. "I think we both know that's not true."

Can't this guy take no for an answer? Scourge huffs and rolls over as much as he can so his back is toward Jules. "Leave," he says. It's what you're best at, after all.

"Sonic heard that you attacked the ceremony to kidnap Chuck."

Scourge has a sudden, sinking feeling he knows where this is going. "I don't care. Go away."

Jules marches on, implacable. "He said that halfway through, after Chuck escaped, Finitevus told you to switch targets. That the new target was me."

"Shut up!"

"And that when you heard I was in danger, you-"

"So I called it off, alright?" Scourge bolts upright. The handcuffs snap back against his wrists painfully and his ankles scream as the cuffs cut into his skin, but he's too furious and aching and raw to care. "Yeah, I called off the mission. Yeah, I took that stupid attack. It doesn't change anything! I'm still your enemy, I'm still going to kill Sonic, I'm still going to tear apart your world and everything you love! So what if I- if I..."

"Risked all that to save one broken-down, tactically unimportant robian?" Jules finishes quietly.

"Yes! No!" Scourge tries to bury his face in his hands and can't even do that, damn this tiny range of motion. "Will you leave me alone?" Metal glints in the corner of his eye as Jules reaches out a hand. Scourge growls deep in his throat until the hand is slowly drawn back.

Mercifully, the robian is silent while Scourge desperately tries to keep himself from falling apart. Chaos, what is wrong with him?

"What do you want from me," he mutters.

This time, it's Jules who looks away. "There's not much time before I have to call Zonic in," he says. "Before he left the first time, there was talk of... life in solitary confinement. Or execution."

Breathe. It's fine. Scourge has been in worse scrapes before. "I can see where the similarities between you and my dad come in," he says softly. Venomously. "He never hesitated to lock me away, either." Sure, it hadn't exactly been tossing him in a prison cell and throwing away the key, but the perpetual grounding to an empty mansion, the total abandonment of him to an endless stream of nannies... and then, of course, that fiasco right before he died.

Dads. So eager to foist their screwups on other people, wash their hands and move on.

"Doesn't any of this setup seem odd to you?" Jules asks abruptly.

Scourge blinks, thrown. "What? You hit your head somewhere, old man?"

"Think about it. You're a top-priority prisoner. You've broken out of Zone Jail. And yet your only security here is an inhibitor collar, some handcuffs, and a broken-down old robian."

...there's a trap here somewhere, Scourge knows it. "Yesss?" He eyes Jules warily. Is this some kinda reverse-psychology thing?

Jules laughs wearily. "You're not the only one with emotional ties he can't quite cut, son."

"Don't call me that," Scourge says reflexively before the weight of Jules' words catch up to him. "Wait, what? Are you saying-" and then he cuts off, because that's so ridiculous it shouldn't be said out loud.

"Yes," Jules confirms. "I volunteered for guard duty because I had to ask, first. To make sure for myself that something of my son is in there."

"I am not your son," Scourge snaps. Distantly, some part of him recognizes that he's being actively detrimental - that if he plays his cards right he could actually walk out of this free - but he's past that kind of rational behavior now. "You're chasing ghosts, old man! Stop looking for stuff that isn't gonna happen!"

"You're not my son," Jules agrees. "You're not my Sonic. But you're a Sonic, and somewhere... that potential for great good is inside you."

And isn't that exactly what Sonic had said on their last birthday - the day he'd finally ditched that lame Anti-Sonic moniker, had finally stepped out of Sonic's shadow into his own light - that all it'd take is a bit of decency, and Scourge would be just like him? The echo stills him.

"You're making a mistake," he says hoarsely. He's not going back to Zone Jail, he'll die before he goes back to that hellhole, but he needs Jules to understand this. "I'm not Sonic. I'm no hero. If you let me go, I'm just gonna go right back to doing what I did before. People will die because of you."

"No, they won't," Jules says, half-smiling. "I've done my research. The Destructix don't kill. You wreak havoc and destroy things, but... no bodies. I understand it's to avoid trouble with G.U.N.," he adds, holding up a hand to forestall Scourge's protests, "But you don't have a body count. That's important."

Shows what he knows - but Scourge can't bring himself to point out the obvious. "I still ruin lives," Scourge says instead. "There's other ways to kill people without holding a gun to their heads."

"I know. And that's where I'm being selfish." The half-smile turns into a full smile, but it's so sad and wracked with exhaustion and bitterness that Scourge has to look away. "I... I lost my son once. I can't help it... I can't watch a son of mine - from any universe - be destroyed while I can do anything to stop it. I'm not a good person, Scourge. I've lost too much to try. So I'm going to be selfish, just this once, and hope you don't make me regret it."

Scourge is silent. He's silent when Jules stands up and unlocks the cuffs, one by one. He's silent when Jules reaches up to his throat to unlock the inhibitor, and he's silent when it falls away and power rushes freely beneath his skin once more.

His boots are on the floor, suit jacket draped over a chair. He pulls on the shoes and digs through the pockets until he finds his sunglasses, but leaves the jacket behind.

"Scourge," Jules says quietly, as Scourge pushes the window open. He hesitates over the window sill, half inside and half out.

If Jules asks him to stay, he doesn't know what he'll do.

But he doesn't. In the end, Jules looks down and whispers, "If you ever need somewhere to rest, my home is always open. Till then... be safe, son."

The words catch in Scourge's throat. He nods, wordlessly, and drops out of the window to land lightly on his feet on the ground below. For a moment, he dallies beneath the window, waiting for-

For...

He doesn't know. Scourge shivers in the cool night air and starts running.

...thanks, Dad.

He finds the base a few hours later, jogging to the next town over and hopping a train the rest of the way. When he walks in, the base goes dead silent.

Fiona leaps up from the circle of Destructix - planning a rescue mission, he later finds out - and tackles him, hugging and pounding him in equal measure. She cries a little too, which he only discovers when she points out he's tearing up himself. The Destructix surround them, yelling over each other and clapping him on the back until Simian picks them all up in a group hug. It's at that point that Scourge declares he's done with all this mushy stuff and if they don't knock it off he won't bother coming back next time. Fiona announces that if there is a next time he won't have to worry about coming back because she'll kill him first, and Simian gives them all one last squeeze before turning them loose.

Scourge retrieves his leather jacket with a sense of great relief and they all end up watching another trashy samurai movie, which Lightning ruins again. Fiona holds him tight the whole time and doesn't chew him out like he deserves, for which Scourge is unendingly grateful.

He doesn't go back to the house. He pulls jobs with the Destructix, they beat up on Sonic and his lackeys, they have one run-in which Finitevus that they come off much worse for. And they watch crappy movies, eat ridiculous amounts of junk food, and get personally banned from every arcade and amusement park across the continent. He's... not gonna lie, it's actually pretty fun.

But in the back of his head, the house is always there. The robian bustling around the empty kitchen in a pink apron. The scent of pancakes frying. Till then... be safe, son.

It takes a long time - months of denial, of wondering and longing and furious self-restraint - but he caves eventually.

He shows up on a morning he knows Sonic and his mom won't be there. He doesn't knock on the door, or ring the bell. Mostly, he just hovers outside, unable to work up his nerve to do anything.

He's about to leave when the door swings open. Jules stands there, looking exactly the same as he did that night by the hospital bed, with eyes too soft for his wayward not-son. Scourge, half-frozen on the sidewalk, searches for something to say and comes up empty. They stare at each other silently.

Scourge shoves his hands in his pockets and forces back the lump in his throat. "I was in the area, so I dropped by," he mutters. "Don't think this means anything."

Jules looks at him for a long moment and Scourge forgets to breathe. Slowly, softly, his dad smiles. "Welcome home, son."

[darriness]

Klaine Fic - You’ll Always Be The Home - Chapter 2

Author: darriness

Fic Summary: Everything is finally settled in Kurt and Blaine’s life…right?

Rating: T

Link to: Prologue - Chapter 1

Chapter Word Count: 3389

Chapter Summary: Decisions and news

Author’s Note: I’m the worst at summaries. Don’t even bother reading them. Just read the chapter lol Also, it was brought to my attention that there may have been confusion with the chapters for this fic. Just note that there is a prologue before chapter 1. So TECHNICALLY this is the third chapter but it’s chapter 2 because of the prologue. I’ll stop rambling. Thanks to my beta @darrenismydarcy and enjoy!

AO3 Link

“Do we ever have to leave our honeymoon?” Blaine asks four days later as he kneels on the bed where Kurt has been lounging with a book for the past hour.

Kurt looks up from his book, lazily, and his breath catches at Blaine’s appearance. They haven’t really worn anything more than swim trunks and tank tops since they arrived in Fiji three days ago but right now Blaine is only in low hanging shorts and his golden skin and easy smile take Kurt’s breath away.

Blaine smirks at Kurt’s expression before moving forward on his knees toward his husband, “See something you like?” He asks.

Kurt swallows, “You are unfairly attractive right now.”

Blaine chuckles as he puts his hands on either side of Kurt’s shoulders and leans in to press a slow, warm kiss to his lips. He hums when he pulls back, “Just right now?”

Kurt chuckles as he rolls his eyes, “Stop fishing for compliments.”

Blaine smirks again and shrugs before sitting down on his hip and leaning on his hand that he rests on the other side of Kurt’s hips, “You didn’t answer my first question.”

Kurt closes his book and puts it on the nightstand before putting his hands behind his head and giving Blaine his full attention, “To answer your question, yes, we eventually have to leave our honeymoon.” Blaine pouts and Kurt laughs, “We have jobs to get back to, and a Bethany to think about for starters.” Kurt reminds.

Blaine waves a hand, “Bethany’s practically an adult.” He says.

Kurt laughs, “I know sixteen-year-olds THINK they’re adults but...she’s not done needing you by a long shot.”

“Needing us.” Blaine says and Kurt shrugs, conceding the point even though he knows he’ll never have what Blaine and Bethany have and that’s okay.

“What are you going to do with yourself when Annie’s off at college?” Kurt asks, curiously.

Blaine pouts his lips thoughtfully, “Probably cry for a while.” He says and it’s Kurt’s turn to pout, sadly, up at him before Blaine shrugs, “But then, I don’t know, I figured you and I would have a little one of our own?”

He asks the question almost hesitantly. They’ve talked about kids, and both want at least one together, but it’s always been hypothetical. Both of them had been content with raising Bethany.

“You wouldn’t...want a break for a while?” Kurt asks, running a hand up the arm Blaine is bracing himself on, “You’ve been raising another human since you were fifteen. I would have more kids with you tomorrow but is that what you want? Would you rather we wait and just be us for a while?”

Blaine sighs and shifts slightly. Kurt wonders if he’s made Blaine uncomfortable and hates that he’s ruined their relaxed Fiji honeymoon vibe.

Eventually, Blaine looks up at Kurt through his lashes, “I can’t think of anything better than raising a child with you.”

Kurt beams at him and leans up to press his lips to Blaine’s. Blaine joins the kiss easily and they lazily make out on the bed with the afternoon sun shining in through the floor to ceiling glass doors of their room. They’ve had more sex over the last three days then any other three day period in their entire relationship, but there is something cementing and gratifying about this moment in a none sexual way.

“We’ll have to talk to Bethany.” Kurt whispers when they finally pull apart.

“Not it.” Blaine whispers back before moving back to press his lips against Kurt’s. They’re both laughing this time, though, so it’s more a meeting of teeth than lips but neither care.

“Wanna go for a swim?” Kurt asks when they pull away for a second time.

Blaine hums, thoughtfully, “Only if you can keep your hands to yourself while we do it. We’re going to end up arrested one of these days.”

Kurt rolls his eyes without any heat, “Please. One, you’re just as handsy. Two, it’s a resort in Fiji - we won’t be the only handsy ones. And three, you are my husband, I can be as handsy as I damn well please.”

Blaine smirks, “Yes sir.”

Kurt quirks an eyebrow, “Ooooh I like the sound of that.”

Blaine throws his head back and laughs and Kurt smiles.

“Come on,” Blaine says when he’s calm, flicking his head toward the beach outside their room, “let’s go swimming. And if we get arrested, there will be punishment.”

It’s Kurt’s turn to smirk, “Yes sir.” He repeats.

-- -- --

It’s two weeks since their honeymoon and Blaine and Kurt still giggle every time they look at each other or catch sight of their rings. There is an overabundance of giggling in the house which usually causes Bethany to roll her eyes even as she smiles at the pair and their ridiculousness. 

Tonight, Bethany is staying at a friend's house and Blaine sits, almost vibrating, on the couch as he tries to read a book and wait for Kurt to get home from the grocery store. 

They’re going to have a date night. 

A slightly silly concept considering they are married but, seeing as they live with a 16-year-old, nights by themselves are few and far between so they take advantage of them when they come along.  They’re going full out; dinner, candles, a movie, groping during said movie, and sex. Lots and lots of sex.

Kurt grunts his way through the front door and Blaine leaps up from the couch, tossing his unread book onto the cushions, “Here. Let me grab some of those.” He says, taking a few of the bags from Kurt’s hand, “Did you bring them all up on the first go?”

“Of course I did. Gives me a workout.” Kurt snarks.

Blaine laughs as they make their way into the kitchen, “Some might say going down and back up the stairs a second time is equally a workout.”

Kurt levels him with a look that would be bitchy if they weren’t so ridiculously in love that anger isn’t a thing they do nowadays (they’re both sure fighting will return...they’re just enjoying the lack thereof), “Yeah, well, considering what our night holds I don’t think I needed to workout at ALL before hand.”

Blaine smirks, “Touché.” He says as there is a knock at the door.

They both turn in its direction with identical curious expressions. They aren’t expecting anyone. That had kind of been the whole point of the evening.

“Maybe I dropped something and a neighbour is dropping it by?” Kurt wonders, almost to himself, as he riffles through the bags to check.

Blaine shrugs and figures there is only one way to find out. He walks over to the door, laughing when Kurt calls out ‘You better not offer sexual favours for the return of produce!’

He’s still laughing when he pulls the door open but his laugh is cut off abruptly when his eyes land on the figure on the other side. He and the person on the other side of the door stare at each other, neither speaking, for what feels like hours.

They are silent and starring long enough for Kurt to come out of the kitchen anyway, “What did I drop?” He asks but goes quiet when he comes to stand next to Blaine. Whether it’s the general vibe of the moment or the fact that the person on the other side of the door isn’t someone Kurt has ever seen before, Blaine’s not sure. But right now, Blaine isn’t sure of anything.

“Dad.” He chokes out and his throat feels raw and scratchy. The name coming out like sandpaper against his vocal chords. It’s not a word he’s used in many years, and a word he never thought he’d use again to the man in front of him.

Marcus Anderson shifts almost awkwardly. Everything about him in this moment seems awkward in Blaine’s opinion, and it’s so different to the mental memory Blaine has of his father. Marcus Anderson is a commanding presence, usually. He’s not an overly tall man (a little under 5’11”) but his general presence seems to make even taller men shrink in comparison.

Now, he stands in a three piece suit (which seems wholly out of place in the basic but neat hallway outside Kurt and Blaine’s apartment), shifting from one foot to the other and adjusting his lapel and cuffs almost reflexively. Blaine can’t help but remember his own actions on the day of his wedding and he swallows hard, trying to rid himself of the mental connection. He wants to be nothing like his father.

“Are you going to let me in?” Marcus asks finally and it’s then that Blaine realizes he and Kurt have just been staring.

Blaine turns to Kurt, whose face has morphed from the happy relaxed expression from the kitchen into a scowl with blazing eyes, and clears his throat, “Um, yeah, sure. Come in.” He says, backing up and opening the door further.

Marcus steps between the pair and clears his throat as he passes Kurt. Kurt tracks the older man as he makes his way into the living room and stands just in front of the coffee table.

“Did I catch you in the middle of something?” Marcus asks.

“What do you want, Dad?” Blaine asks instead of answering. He silently curses himself for not sounding stronger. He had wanted that to come out angrily but instead it comes out almost resigned.

Marcus clears his throat and nods down at the carpet, “Is your... sister here?”

“No.” Blaine answers, simply.

Marcus nods again, his eyes moving around the room without really landing on anything, “I have news. For her.”

Blaine’s eyes narrow. What could that possible mean? Neither Blaine or Bethany have had contact with their parents in seven years, what possible news could their father have for Bethany, and not him, that he felt he couldn’t impart over the phone or email or, Blaine figures, not at all.

“Evelyn is dead.” Marcus says simply, finally meeting Blaine’s eyes.

Blaine instantly feels like he’s been punched in the chest. He stares back at his dad but his eyes aren’t really seeing. He’s finding it hard to breathe and hard to swallow. Out of his peripheral vision, he becomes aware of Kurt looking back and forth between Blaine and his father.

“Who’s Evelyn?” Kurt asks, anger seemingly forgotten for the moment as curiosity takes its place.

Marcus breaks eye contact with Blaine only to sneer in Kurt’s direction and it’s that action that shakes Blaine awake, “Get out.” Blaine whispers over the lump in his throat.

Marcus’ eyes snap back to Blaine, widen, and then narrow, “That is a very rude way to treat a guest, Blaine. I thought I had taught you better.”

“You taught me nothing.” Blaine spits, “Now, get out.”

Marcus’ narrow eyes regard Blaine for a moment longer before clearing his throat once more, straightening his suit jacket once more and nodding, “Bethany is welcome at the funeral.” is the last thing he says before marching out of the apartment. Blaine doesn’t miss that he waited long enough to make it seem like it was HIS idea and not Blaine’s.

The door closes audibly behind his father and it’s the only indication Blaine gets that he actually leaves because he’s still staring at the spot where he was just standing. When he hears the click (his father is too prim and proper for something as ‘low class’ as a slam) he blinks for the first time in what feels like forever. Why can’t he remember the last time he blinked? Why are his eyes so dry?

He becomes aware of Kurt next to him when the other man clears his throat, “Ummm, what’s going on? Who is Evelyn? What the fuck just happened?”

Blaine runs a shaky hand down his face and pulls his bottom lip out slightly as he removes it, staring off into the middle distance, “Evelyn is our mother.” 

-- -- --

Kurt’s not entirely sure how to act.

He’s been trying to take his cue from Blaine but trying to figure out what Blaine needs from him without outright asking (he’d tried and gotten a strange ‘What kind of question is that?’ non-answer in return). 

Blaine seemed last night to want to forget his father had even visited. He had clapped his hands together after a moment of silence and declared that the groceries weren’t going to put themselves away. He’s been speaking mostly in cliches ever since.

They’d gone to bed right after dinner and while Kurt had understood the night they had planned wasn’t really an option anymore, he had mourned it a little. He’d mourned it a little more when he’d spooned up behind Blaine in bed and gotten a ‘I’ve got a headache’ cliche in return. He wasn’t sure if that just meant no sex (which isn’t what he had been aiming for anyway) or no cuddling but when Blaine had shrugged his shoulder slightly, Kurt had taken the hint and rolled away. He’d fell into a fitful sleep only after he knew Blaine had done the same a few hours later.

Now, the morning sun is shining through their small kitchen window and the pair is sitting at the kitchen table with mugs of coffee in front of them. They haven’t really spoken since waking up almost a half hour ago, but Bethany should be getting dropped back home any time now and Kurt’s still not sure how they are going to tell her.

He coughs and Blaine looks over at him with a curious expression, “Have you...thought about how you’re going to tell Bethany?”

Blaine pouts thoughtfully before shrugging, “Best just to rip the bandaid off, I guess.”

Kurt’s nerves bristle at the cliche. He wants to shake Blaine and ask him what the hell the cliches are for and why he’s acting so strange but he also doesn’t want to make Blaine mad at him - a fight isn’t what he wants or thinks Blaine needs right now.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out as Blaine continues to look at him curiously, passively. Kurt licks his lips and tries again, “Did you...want to tell her by yourself? I can...make myself scarce.” He gestures out of the kitchen as if his meaning isn’t clear.

Something flashes in Blaine’s eyes for the first time since his father’s visit the night before. He reaches across the table and grabs Kurt’s wrist, locking eyes with him and his eyes look pained, “Please stay.” He says.

Kurt nods repeatedly, “I will. I will.” He reassures.

Blaine mirrors his nods before pulling his hand back. He nods continuously, almost to himself, before his eyes settle back into the passive stare they held before.

The sound of a key in the front door grabs their attention and they both turn in its direction to hear the door open and Bethany enter, “Hey guys!” She calls with an obvious smile in her voice, “I don’t care how late you stayed up last night - I want waffles! Let’s go get breakfast!”

They don’t answer her, and a few seconds later she all but bounces into the kitchen and smiles wider when she sees them at the table. She’s wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt with her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She’s slightly out of breath, almost like she ran up the stairs instead of taking the elevator, but her smile is so bright and her vibe is relaxed...until she catches the vibe of the kitchen.

She stops with a hand on the door jam and looks back and forth between Kurt and Blaine with a furrowed brow, “What’s going on?” She asks.

Kurt looks at Blaine, who is staring at his coffee. There is one thing Kurt knows for sure in this moment: no matter what he’d do to help Blaine, and Bethany, through this, telling Bethany himself is not something he’s going to do. This news shouldn’t come from him.

He coughs and it seems to shake Blaine out of his thoughts. The other man looks up and gives Bethany a pained smile that fools no one, “Have a seat, Annie.” He whispers.

Bethany follows the instruction cautiously, lowering herself into the seat she usually occupies at the table and continuing to look back and forth between them. She laughs awkwardly after another beat of silence, “What? Did someone die?” She asks.

Kurt can tell she means it as a joke but when he looks over at Blaine, who winces slightly, in the ensuing silence Bethany puts her hands flat on the table, “Burt?” She asks, her voice taking on a panicked note.

Kurt does feel like that’s a question for him to answer. He reaches across the table, quickly, and lays a hand on Bethany’s arm, “Burt is fine.” He says and for good measure he adds, “Carole and Finn are fine, too.” He sort of loves that his family is Blaine and Bethany’s family, too, and even though his heart is hurting and confused, it also swells at her concern.

She nods and looks back and forth between Kurt and her silent brother, “Then who? Or what? You haven’t said no one died. Did someone die?”

“Mom did.” Blaine whispers suddenly and the room goes silent again.

Kurt’s still got his hand on Bethany’s and he squeezes it slightly as he waits for her to react. She’s looking at Blaine with wide eyes. Kurt’s not sure how he thought she would react, hell he STILL isn’t sure how Blaine is reacting, but he knows he wants to be there to help with whatever it is.

Bethany blinks a few times, “How?” She finally stutters out.

Blaine adopts a thoughtful expression, “I...don’t actually know how she died.” He whispers.

Bethany shakes her head, “No.” She says, “I mean, how do you know?”

Blaine looks at Kurt, briefly, before turning back to Bethany. Kurt wonders in that moment if Blaine is going to lie about how he came to know this information, “Dad, uh, came here last night.”

Bethany swallows thickly and nods but doesn’t say anything. She turns her eyes to look at the table in front of her. They’re slightly wide but otherwise dry. Kurt’s not sure why he was expecting tears.

“Bethany?” Kurt says after another moment of silence. So much silence. She looks up at him with a surprised expression, like she forgot he was there, “Are you...okay? Do you...need anything?” He tries asking her what he asked Blaine the night before, hoping she’ll be more receptive.

She blinks and then coughs slightly before looking at Blaine, “Is there a funeral?”

“On Sunday morning.” Blaine reports, “Dad said you were welcome to go if you want.”

Bethany’s brows furrow, “If I…” She stops and shakes her head before starting again, “I think we should go.” She says with a decisive nod.

Kurt and Blaine turn to each other for a moment before turning back to Bethany, “Ummm, Bethany…” Kurt starts.

“Dad said YOU were invited. Not me.” Blaine clarifies.

Bethany’s brows furrow even further and she shakes her head, “That’s bullshit!” She explodes. Neither Kurt or Blaine reprimand her for her language, “Now I want all three of us to go even more.” She smirks, “It’ll be the perfect send off - piss her off one more time.”

Kurt’s eyes widen in surprise at her declaration before he turns to look at Blaine, gauging his reaction. To his surprise, Blaine actually laughs slightly, shaking his head and bringing a hand up to his mouth. 

“I should have known that would be your reaction.” Blaine says, almost to himself.

Bethany amazes Kurt (and Blaine) on an almost daily basis, she truly is an amazing young woman, but her reaction brings Kurt back to that night seven years ago when he first learned about the night Blaine and Bethany’s parents abandoned their two children. Bethany, seven at the time, had stood up to their father on her big brother’s behalf, going so far as to punch their father in the stomach to keep him away from Blaine.

Bethany winks with a smile, “I’ve always got your back, big brother.”

[atxlxs]

Beyond The Veil: Chapter 6

A glance at the time told Eras that Muska was still stuck in the meeting. Unsurprisingly, but also disappointing. She had hoped the meeting would go faster so Muska would get home an hour ago. She really wanted to get food started so she could relax, the nerves of Musa going to a highschool had eaten at her all day.

Great, she was starting to sound like an actual mother.

*sigh*

Pulling out her phone, Eras opened the phone app and pressed call on Muska’s contact. Conveniently titled ‘parasite’. It rang for a total of 3 times before it clicked, suddenly two voices flooded through the phone. One, that was Muska, the other was definitely Nedzu. So the witch put her on speaker phone. Nedzu was probably trying to get her to answer more questions then they agreed to answer.

The chirpy “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your meal but if I may inquire, is your guardian real or not? I know you're older than most of us but as you said you are a minor for your kind. We would like to get you in a safe environment for the time you spend learning here and research revealed nothing but a name, Viridis Eras if I remember correctly.” was surprisingly soft and sounded genuinely sincere.

Maybe, Eras wouldn’t have to worry constantly about her friend.

“I am very much a real person, Nedzu.” She said simply, her voice coming across smooth and melodic. The other side of the line went dead quiet. It almost made her chuckle but she refrained. Intimidation was hard to maintain through giggles.

“Hey Eras, what's up?” Muska asked, a hint of relief in her voice. Ah, Nedzu definitely was trying to pry more details out of her.

“The person that actually needs to eat physical food is not in my house to eat it. Since school ended 2 hours ago and my parasite wasn’t here yet despite me stating it was a pasta night, I got worried.” Eras responded, ignoring the soft “actually need to eat?” from the background of the call.

She wasn’t lying. After school had ‘released’ she had been checking the clock every 10 minutes. Anxiety over what could be happening kept her from focusing so she had sat down on the couch and glared at the fireplace for the entire 2 hours.

So what if she was overly worried, and for nothing it seemed? She has had bad experiences and experience is always the best teacher.

“Awe, was my sugar mommy worried about me?” Muska said, her tone teasing and Eras could pick up the faint sounds of choking from the other side of the line. Of course she would throw that term around in front of others.

“You wish, gremlin child.”

“Old woman.”

“Bitch witch”

“What kind of pasta?”

“Spaghetti, homemade, and with a homemade roasted garlic seasoned meat sauce. As well as a salad but Who knows if you’ll have the appetite for it. It’ll be there though.” Eras had gotten up at this point and was shuffling around the kitchen. “Will you need a ride home?”

“Nah, Nedzu is practically vibrating in his place at the thought of another veil member, which he has correctly hypothesized you are, and would most definitely stalk the gate for you.” Muska returned, amusement bleeding into her tone as Eras caught snorts from around the room she was in.

Suddenly, a cough snapped her attention back to the conversation as said rat cleared his throat.

“As amusing as this is, Before you leave would I be able to ascertain who or what you are? Considering the age of the witch present, for her to address you as ‘old woman’ I assume you must be someone who has lived far longer.” Nedzu stated, interest coating his words.

Before she could respond someone in the back of the room, a gruff voice that was deep as fuck holy shit, spoke up with a warning present in his voice.

“Nedzu, I don’t believe interrogating them will get you any of your answers.” the voice said, agitation and resignation in his tone. He was probably well versed in Nedzu.

“Thanks Aizawa-sensei.” Muska said, a little choppy on the sensei but that was expected honestly. Well, nice to know the name of the voice. However, Eras wanted to make the rat suffer a bit. He spent a few hours interrogating so she might as well dangle an interesting opportunity in his face and not allow him to reach for it.

“Yes thank you Aizawa-san, I don't mind telling you what race I am , Nedzu. I am also much older than the teen witch in front of you at the moment. Yet, alas,” she said with faux disappointment and sorrow, “I seem to be needed somewhere else. The pot that hasn’t even begun to boil yet is very threatening to me so I simply must end the call here. See you at home bestie.”

With a response of “You got it bestie.” the line clicked and went dead. Snickering to herself as she finally started the stove.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aizawa Shouta has had several revelations as the day passed. First of all, the broken bone boy was very determined to keep his place in the heroics class. He’s going to be a problem child, he has a sixth sense for them at this point. Secondly, one of his students is an enigma. She looks to be a bit older than 16, maybe 17, yet is over 2 and a half fucking centuries old. When he had first come across the term ‘beyond the veil’ he knew there were probably things that far surpassed humans in different areas but that old? That counts as a teen?

With a heavy sigh, Shouta sat through one of the wildest faculty meetings he had the displeasure of being forced to attend. That was saying something considering his employer was Nedzu. Granted, he wouldn’t have skipped this one anyways when knowing answers to the veil would be given. Understandably, not all of the answers, but now they had a firm idea about what actually lived beyond it. Also understandably, the new information was perplexing. Shouta wouldn’t touch any more information with a ten foot pole until whatever he was just given was processed.

As Viridis left the room, thankfully less chaotic than when she had entered, Shouta let out a sigh of relief. He rubbed his hands down his face and contemplated what he just heard. Finally, they had an overall summary of the types of races present in the veil and a somewhat structured hierarchy that would have to be explained further at some point in case they stumbled into the veil now but that could wait.

Shouta shivered as he remembered how oppressing the air had gotten in the room during Viridis’s talk about the forgotten. He had met hardened villains that had less presence and conviction then she did during her rant. They would need to hear about the taboos as well, he really didn’t want to be branded thank you very much.

Luckily, the goblin of a teen did actually have a guardian that existed. (No ‘Zashi, his jaw was firmly in place and had not dropped when the person spoke, even if it did that was warranted because he's sure he saw even nemuri marvel at how smooth it was, and no he did not snicker when they obviously baited Nedzu.) They wouldn’t have to worry about finding a place for them to stay safely while attending their school. This brought up some new considerations though. Groaning he slammed his head onto the table dramatically, the other teachers swiveling their heads to snap their gaze to him.

“Nedzu, she’s probably already done with the general education curriculum. If we don’t find a way to occupy her, we’ll have to deal with whatever chaos she makes to entertain herself while bored in class.”

All the teachers nodded in agreement. Fear flashing through their eyes at the idea. The flashy pro’s were unusually subdued after that showing. Whether from the presence of something completely unknown to them that was downright terrifying, or just the way Viridis acted and spoke to Nedzu, Shouta wasn’t sure.

Honestly though? Rat-man was his new favorite nickname to call the chimera in his head, it was stuck and was hilarious.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The morning of the second day of Muska's highschool life, Eras felt off, like something bad was going to happen kind of off.

When she had ‘woken’ from her vegetative state that morning everything just felt wrong. Then as she got up to start the day things just kept happening. None of them were good.

First, she found out that Tibbles had knocked over her higher end coffee grounds. (Accidentally of course, Tibbles may see them as servants but he was smarter than most and knew better than to ruin something a vampire enjoys. Eras could hold a grudge and it isn’t pretty) Next, she was informed that she had 4 business meetings, back to back, since there was a supply disruption and her pseudo-bosses that she pays to handle shit like this were out of their depth and had never experienced this before. Great.

Rushing, Eras made the coffees out of the cheaper brand and it hurt her soul to do it, coffee was sacred, and ran back to the observatory where her closet was to get dressed.

Grabbing out one of her many business related outfits, she threw on the first one she saw and paced over to her full length mirror to adjust it. A forest-pine green silk button down, the top three buttons were left open and a mesh underbust corset tied it together and tucked it into black dress pants. She tugged on black platform heels that came to a stop above her ankles. A charcoal black coat that stopped at ankle length hung off her shoulders. Since fall was starting to approach, the days have gotten cooler so it was there just in case.

Not that she actually felt the cold, she was technically undead, but the aesthetic was important.

A few extra accessories to tie it together, a silver chain necklace and several statement rings that were scattered on both hands along with earring sets, and after fixing her middle part she was done. Black circle sunglasses were grabbed absentmindedly through habit as she left the room. The sun was bright and Eras’s eyes were made for the night.

When she walked back into the kitchen to grab her thermos filled with a caramel macchiato she heard a wolf whistle from the dining table. Spinning around, she noticed Muska staring at her with surprise.

That was warranted, Eras dressed like a gym obsessed hobo most of the time.

“Holy shit, Lookin hot as fuck, Damn bestie. where are you heading to?” Muska said as she idly sipped her coffee while the phone she was scrolling through laid on the table, opened up to some kind of story based on the paragraphs of text she was seeing.

“Thanks, I have 4 business meetings that are emergencies because apparently a food supplier that I relied on had to recall everything, so I have to go down and explain what to do and listen to suggestions all day. I should be done by the time your school gets out so I’ll swing by and pick you up if time favors me.” Eras rambled a bit towards the end while fidgeting with her cup.

She was never able to gracefully accept a compliment outside of a text message, no matter how many years Muska’s been with her and hyping her up. Grabbing her keys, this time to her car and not the motorcycle (no matter how much she loves that bike she doesn’t want her hair ruined before she gets to the meeting, she's about to rip into some people.) She turned to Muska.

“Want a ride there?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

A total of 3 minutes passed as Muska’s sleep-addled brain caught up and she nodded, downing the rest of her coffee like a shot and slipping into her room to change into the uniform.

That was also a new weird thing, Eras was definitely not used to seeing Muska in anything but various black outfits with the occasional color. She missed seeing the edgy outfits and platform heels that were always an unneeded height since Muska was fucking taller than her. (she could change that but she was comfortable with 163cm)

Once Muska came back out, a quick pet to Tibbles given on the way which gave them a meow (Muska immediately glared at the cat. Sadly, Eras was at a loss as to what the cat was saying. Again.) and they both walked out of the door. Despite living on a mountain, they had a stone path that led to a fairly sleek building that blended in with the surrounding trees and mountain terrain. Once inside, parked along the furthest wall and facing the exit were three vehicles. The motorcycle that Eras had driven Muska with on the exam day, a military grade jeep that was blacked out and decked out, and finally, a 1970 volvo. It was a pastel mustard color and belonged to Muska.

Swinging open the door to the Jeep, Eras climbed in and started the car. Opening the garage door with the touch of a button and left the moment Muska was strapped in.

The ride to UA was easy and calm, except for the blaring of Muska’s playlist that Eras didn’t dare tell her to turn down because it was one of her favorite songs and she was loudly singing along. Pulling up a block away from the highschool, Nedzu precaution, Eras waved Muska out of her car and yelled another “KICK ASS WITCH BITCH!” before cackling as she drove away from a very aggressive middle finger from her friend.

Time to go deal with meetings that could have been a conference call.

“I AM-” A loud voice sounded from the hallway, startling Muska from her glare down with PomPom, “COMING THROUGH THE DOORWAY LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!”

That is, not how normal people enter a room what the fuck?

The newest blond in the class stood at around 200 fucking centimeters tall and wore spandex like a second skin. In american colors. Muska had never paid attention to the #1 Pro hero before but the more she looks at this walking american flag the more she’s grateful for not paying attention. Then something caught her attention.

The man had the same leaking weird energy as the twink from the faculty room.

How the hell did the solid brick wall of meat turn into the skeleton of a man she had seen literally yesterday????? Not only that but the leaking energy seemed to travel through the classroom, as if closer to the source of what's gathering it. As she followed the line of energy she noticed it stopped in front of her, going right into greenie….

What did she just stumble upon?

This feels like national secret type shit.

She tuned back in to hear the hero describe the battle trails they would be facing. 2 on 2 battles with full quirk use and indoors with a fucking bomb to locate. Paper mache but still, this was kinda advanced. She did, however, perk up when he mentioned costumes.

That, she was extra excited about.

Despite not really coming to UA for the hero aspect but more of the quirk training aspect, Muska still felt pretty excited about the costume. Also, she would legally be allowed to beat people up as a hero as long as they were classified as criminals or villains. That sounds like a good stress reliever within reason. She wasn’t going to just maul them. That’d be an abuse of power.

After being dismissed to change, Muska ran up to snatch her costume and bolted to the locker room. She had some say in the weapons but Eras had actually taken the time to design the costumes basics in order to cover everything that might be flung after her. It was also a way to help placate her. For some reason Eras had been extra fidgety ever since she started going to school. There were some things she didn’t know about Eras’s past, but she definitely knew that there was some kind of trauma there, and whatever caused it happened in a school setting.

Opening the case, the first thing Muska noticed were the knee high steel reinforced combat boots that had armor built into it to act as knee braces as well. Next to them was a pair of mirror sunglasses that were purple, placed on top of a letter.

[You’re probably wondering about the glasses. I sent them into a support company for a little upgrade to help you out on the field. They're not necessary so if you want to skip wearing them that's fine but at least check out the surprise I’ve added ok?

Kick ass witch bitch

-E.V ]

Placing the sunglasses on her face Muska almost jerked them off in surprise as a cat mascot character appeared on the right side and waved before jumping across the glasses and they powered up, showing an HUD layout. Something said ‘put on suit to connect’ but that was ignored in favor of the other abilities. The right side had facial recognition software and a tracker for things that are marked in view. There was also a marker that she could activate to aim weapons, like a video game. The left had the ‘connect to suit’ warning at the top but underneath that was a mini map of the surrounding area using a fucking satellite. How the fuck?

Taking them off for now, Muska went and picked up her suit to throw on. There were Two layers. First was a black body suit with colored accents that glowed when wanted, right now they were purple but they could change colors. It was Kevlar and another special type of alloy to make it shock resistant, fireproof, frost proof, and immune to knives and bullets. Next, was a cropped hoodie and shorts which stopped at the upper thigh. The cropped hoodie was purple and the hood part of it looked like a witch hat, the long point fashioned after the stereotypical black witch hat.

There was a tactical belt that wrapped around her waist and connected to two belts that wrapped around her thighs below the shorts. The belts that went vertically on the side of her thighs held pockets of medical supplies and smoke bombs. The previous on the left and latter on the right. The belts that were wrapped around her thighs carried the pockets that held her brass knuckles. The belt around her waist held the whip so it dangled while coiled up off her right hip. Slipping on the boots and lacing them up surprisingly quick, the full outfit was on.

Putting on the glasses once more Muska discovered why it said to put on the full suit. At the top left of the sunglasses was a full body scan that continuously displayed her vitals. It was green for now but if she retained injuries it would slowly move between green to yellow to red. Red being critically or fatally injured.

Holy SHIT Eras! This is some Tony Stark shit?!?

Tags:

@baguettehead

[dontshootmespence]

Cherry Red

Summary: Ness says they can’t do anything about Chronos until the morning, so what should Dean do all night in 1944?

Pairing: 1944 Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,900+

Warnings: Spanking, p in v, girl on top, come, arousal from pain. 

A/N: For those of you 18 and over! This fulfills my @spnkinkbingo square for spanking. Gonna tag @impala-dreamer​ because I’m proud of this one. 

“Kid, we got nothing to kill the bastard and we can’t get it till mornin’, so why not go get some sleep?” Ness asks, deftly flipping his hat onto his head with the flick of his fingers.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

He bids Ness goodnight with strict instructions to be back at 5 AM. Even though he feels like he’s in The Untouchables, he needs to get back to Sam as soon as possible. That being said, there’s no way in hell he was going to sleep his way through his free time in 1944. Something tells him there’s some good strong whiskey and a beautiful dame out there somewhere.

As he saunters down the block (he’d say he wasn’t sauntering, but the 1940s garb had him feeling some kind of way), he grabs the brim of his hat and tips it in the direction of anyone and everyone he comes across. He’s so outta place but he plans to play it up for as long as he’s here.

Under his feet, water splashes from freshly fallen rain. The streets around him smell of rain with tinges of cigar smoke, which happens to be coming from a bar named Cahoots.

Opening the door, the bell above it rings, alerting everyone in the bar to the out of place “cop” that just walked in. Deep brown wood is bathed in low light, bottles glistening on the simple shelf before the fellow patrons.

Dean starts to pull up a seat, seeing mostly men around him, but through the fog of cigar smoke he sees her. She scowls at every man who comes near, though most of them are acting like they’d never seen a woman before, coming on too strong thinking they were meat or not coming on strong enough. Sure, Dean had gone to bed with his fair share of women, but he was big on willingness. Their willingness was pretty sexy.

He strides over and gently pushes through the throng of men, ordering a whiskey neat before turning his attention to the woman at his side. “So what’s a beautiful dame like you doing at this bar all alone? Are you rationed?” He asks, feeling every inch Humphrey Bogart.

“How d’ya know I’m alone, g-man?”

Her hair is pinned in waves, perfectly framing her doe eyes - not innocent ones though, they held much more than most would think he’s sure. She’s decked in cherry red, a black belt cinching her waist and matching black heels showing every inch of her beautiful calves. He’s used to seeing more skin on a woman, at least one in a dress, but something about the way she’s dressed intrigues him. He wants to know more. Maybe Sammy had the right idea going after the classy girls.

Dean smirks and glances around at the other men in the bar; they’ve started to dissipate after realizing that the g-man had her attention. “Well, you aren’t wearin’ a wedding ring, so you’re not hitched and in the two minutes I’ve been here, I’ve seen you wave on about five others who’ve been desperately trying to make a pass at the doll in the pretty red dress.”

She blushes and glances down at her glass. “You got me, g-man, I am here alone. I’ve recently lost 180 pounds. I’m here to celebrate.”

He cocks his eyebrow, a little confused.

“Just dumped the cheatin’ bastard,” she laughs.

Dean extends his hand and introduces himself, learns her name is Y/N. Apparently, she’d only been going steady with the guy for a few months. “He seemed a decent guy, you know. A real dreamboat, but then I caught him in bed with another woman so I got rid of his ass. What about you, Casanova? What brings you here?”

Loaded question.

“A little time off before I meet up with partner to finish this case we’re working on,” he says. Technically true, but way off the mark. As per usual in his life. “Can I buy ya another drink?”

“With a face like that, why not,” she replies with a smile. It’s the kind of smile that can ruin a man like Dean.

But what a way to go. “Well, excuse me for a bein’ a little doll dizzy, but would you wanna take this somewhere else?”

“You take me for a charity girl?”

He assumes that means an easy woman, so he chooses his words wisely. “Definitely not. But maybe one who’s looking for a good time.”

“And you think you can show me that?”

Dean bites his lip and slips his hand over hers. “Absolutely.”

Placing money on the counter to cover both their tabs, he escorts her out of the bar and into the cool night air. “My motel is just done the block. Kinda here from outta town.”

“Well, as long as you can show me a good time anywhere, I’m good to go, dreamboat.”

He could get used to her calling him that. But he shakes that thought away and picks up the pace. Though there aren’t many people on the street, those that walk by seem impressed with the woman on his arm. As they approach the motel room, she leans into him, her eyes swirling with mischief. “How do you feel about a lady takin’ charge?” She asks, her cherry red lips forming a smirk that makes him feel things he definitely shouldn’t be feeling. “Lemme show you a good time.”

The key fumbles in the lock, but he manages and when they cross the threshold, she pins him to the wall, peeling the pinstripe suit jacket away from his shoulders. “Oh, the gun holster does things for me Dean.”

“Take a picture in that pretty little head of yours, because I need to take it off to do what I want to do. Need free range of motion.”

His hands skim up the backs of her thighs, gathering the material of her dress so that he can grab what he really wants. “I might be taking off this dress, but that doesn’t mean something else can’t be cherry red.”

Dean kisses her hard and starts to unbutton her dress, pushing it down to reveal the era’s lingerie. He had to admit that modern era lingerie had his approval over this, but if anyone could pull this off it was her.

Hungrily, they cover each other in love bites and kitten licks as they remove the remainder of their clothing. “Alright, doll, get on your hands and knees on the bed and I’ll give you what you need.”

She giggles as she crawls onto the bed, wiggling what is quite possibly one of the perfect asses he’s ever seen. When he rakes his fingers up the right side of her ass, she shivers and leans into the bed. “Trust me?” He whispers.

For some reason, she does. “Spank me, Dean.”

A guttural grunt gets caught in his throat, his cock straining against the boxers he’s still wearing. His hand comes down on her ass, the resounding sound of the smack making him even harder. She whimpers and looks back at him. “Harder.”

He does as she asks, a faint imprint of his hand forming on her soft skin before he moves to the other side. “Have to make sure they match.”

She snickers, crawling backwards and standing bare before him. “Sit,” she says quietly. He stares up with rapt attention, watching the curve of her body as she places herself over his knee; he’s pretty sure he’s died and gone to heaven, but he’s been to heaven before and it ain’t this fun.

A peace falls over, his mind going blank once she sinks into him, her body pliable and ready for whatever he touch he intends to give. He runs his pinky over her slit, she’s already wet. “Already?”

She senses the teasing note in his voice. “Absolutely. I can never seem to find a guy who’ll do this with me.”

Dean’s in awe and then he remembers when he is. “Everyone insist on treating you like a proper lady?”

“And I am,” she says. “I just like it rough.” She gasps the last of her thoughts when his hand comes down on her again. “Fuck.” Each successive slap brings warmth to her already heated skin. Her nerves are alight, the contrast of sharp smacks and his soft touches sending her body into overdrive.

With each hit, she moans, squirming against his clothed cock. “Dean, more, please.”

“Count them. Five each.”

“One, two, three, four,” she counts out in quick succession. “Oh fuck.”

He’s entranced by how wet she is, her juices slipping down the side of her leg. He has six more hits to go but all he can think of is being buried inside her. After one more hit on her right side, he switches to the left, giving her two before stopping himself, allowing her to stew in her own anticipation. 

During the in between beats, he watches how her body reacts, goosebumps prickling her soft skin, arousal dripping, muscles shaking. With the final slaps, she slips to the floor, her body pooling at his feet. She reaches up and pulls his boxers down, allowing his cock to spring free, already dripping with pre-cum. 

When her mouth slips over the tip of his cock, he moans, but even her mouth isn’t enough right now. He crawls backward onto the bed, silently inviting her up to join him. 

The bed dips under her weight, her tongue running up the length of his cock before she straddles him, her legs on either side of his hips. “Want this pretty pussy?”

“Doll, you have no idea.” 

She sinks down onto his cock and whines at the stretch. She’s only been with a couple guys, but none have felt like him, velvet soft and insistently hard. The way his mouth drops open makes her smile; she’s never had this kind of power over a man before, and it’s intoxicating. 

Reaching up, Dean grabs her by the back of the neck and brings her body flush against him. “Right here, doll. Move that ass for me.”

She moans into his neck, crying out when he grabs the flesh of her ass, the sting from his hands blooming anew. 

Dean moans. “Fuck me.”

Her body moves of its own volition, the pain of his grasp spurring her on. It’s frenetic and driven. And she starts to lose control. He steadies her hips above him and commands her not to move. He wants to watch as he pumps in and out of her. “Look.” He needs her to see it too.

As his cock thrusts upward into her, her breasts bounce with the force. He can’t take it. She’s completely blissed out and it’s all him. Keeping her steady with one hand, he moves the other to her pussy, massaging her clit with his thumb. “Oh hell, Dean. I’m gonna-”

She can’t complete her thought. Her head drops back, mouth agape as she cries out and her walls constrict around him and he’s not far behind. 

Pushing her back, he pulls out and pumps himself roughly, her body still shaking when he comes on her stomach. “Doll, you have no idea what you do to a guy.”

She dips her finger into his release and sucks it off, moaning at the taste. “I have some clue, sugar.”

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Winner’s Curse Ch. 25

“What are we doing here?” Jay asked, kicking at the impenetrable wall.

“You three need to talk. Your little feuds are ruining the mission for the rest of us so nows a time for heart to heart before we all die in battle.” Calix said.

They all stared at him disbelievingly.

“We could die in battle. Especially with your teamwork skills.” They still stared at him, each a stony and defiant face.

“I could do a truth spell to make you talk but I thought it should be more organic. Instead we’re all going to be stuck here until you work things out.” Calix said smoothly.

Aziz tried to use a more diplomatic approch, “Cal, you said it yourself, we have a mission to do. We can’t waste time talking and-”

“Oh, but we can. Because this is a life changing adventure, and as we know from our parents’ stories, there is almost always a heart to heart before the final battle. This is it.” Calix threw out his arms grandly as  if he was presenting a magnificent buffet of chocolate fountains and not being trapped against their wills.

“You cant keep us in here,” Jordan protested, “This is my lamp. I’ll just poof us out here. So nice try but-”

“The spaghetti incident.” Calix said simply and Jordan’s stilled the hand she was about to poof them away. She glared at him but did nothing else to help get them out.

“What’s “the spaghetti incident?” Aziz asked, confused.

“It’s nothing,” Jordan waved off, refusing to look anyone in the eye.

“It’s blackmail.” Calix clarified matter of factly before giving a thoroughly annoyed Jordan an enthusiastic one-armed hug, “Don’t fight the heart to heart. Don’t fight the tropes of adventuring and ragtag misfits against evil. You must go with it.”

Jay rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall in a classic bad boy biker pose which seemed a bit ridiculous since he was posed next to an ultra girly beaded curtain.

“If we’re supposed to, hypothetically, have a heart to heart,” Jay began “Didn’t think you knew such big words,” Aziz muttered

Jay glared and continued, “Why are you still here?”

“I’m here to make sure you do it,” Calix magicked up some headphones, and increased the volume, “I won’t hear anything. Just give me the signal when you’re done.” With that instruction he hopped onto a pile of pillows, jamming out to his own playlist.

Where once it was like they hadn’t been able to stop spewing enough curses and vitriol at each other, now silence reigned. Silence and the blinding shine of the golden walls which they stared at resolutely because they didn’t want to look at each other. None of them wanted to participate in this idiotic heart to heart and spill feelings to people they currently hated.

So Calix jumped up from his pillows and tried to get the ball rolling again.

"Okay, maybe my presence is making it hard for you to be your usual motormouth selves so I’ll go and leave this to start the conversation. How about you start with Jordan and your obvious trust issues toward everyone that makes you incapable of a “Thank you." Calix suggested a bit too enthusiastically than the situation called for.

"I don't!" Jordan immediately argued but Calix clapped his hand over mouth, "I know denial is your go-to but we have to save the realm tomorrow so let's get this over with."

"But but-"

"Again,” Calix sighed, frustration finally creeping into his voice as he repeated himself again, “Every hero's journey has that tipping point where they must come together and share their deepest fears to find out the fears are irrational because of the power of love and friendship." Calix said.

"I seriously hate it when you use my lectures on story tropes against me." Jordan grumbled.

"I don’t care what you hate," Calix began to fade away, "If you don't start bonding I will transform you into mice when this is over."

"Why mice?" Jay asked

"Mices are automatically inducted into Cinderella's sewing circle. So double punishment to you for not listening to me as you always should. Ta ta!” And with a final woosh of breeze that came from nowhere, he was gone.

Aziz and Jordan resumed their previous staring contest with the wall but Jay, fed up with this situation, and figuring they might as well get this over with, glared “So what is with your trust issues? You came from Auradon, not the Isle, why are you so paranoid?”

Jordan glared at him in return, furious that he was expecting her to dignify his question with an answer he should obviously know.

But she had to admit, she was tired too. Her arms hurt from the crescent moon marks that her nails had dug in. She was feeling residue cramps from the Antiquam’s cream or maybe it was her own tension. Not to mention her teeth hurt from clenching them so tightly. She remembered once, on a family trip long ago, Jordan had been in a mood because she had missed an Orpheus concert due to her parents’ inability to care about time. Her parents had offered to take her to another concert later that night, but she pettily refused to enjoy it.

Her dad had said it hurt more to hold onto  a grudge when you can be enjoying the present. And it was true, once she had stopped ruminating on her parents’ flaws and simply listened to Orpheus’ sweet voice, the burning ball of annoyance had faded away.

And she was so tired.

She had nothing left to lose.

“As if you don’t know,” Jordan began, though with a lot less malice that she usually put behind her snark. Not that it made Jay raised his guard any less. Jordan sighed and tried again, more gentle this time.

“Well you already said it yourself. Auradonians can be hypocrites. It’s all happily ever after and respect and love and harmony is everywhere but it’s not true. They can’t have my lamp so they think if they’re nice to me and pretend to care but they’re just waiting for the right moment to ask for wishes. All of them,” Jordan side-eyed Aziz who stared stonily at her instead of looking guiltily away as she wanted him to.

“And I know people think my magic is amazing, with the wishes and all that. But it’s not,” Jordan continued, on a roll of her own, trying to make Jay understand taht even though she didn’t have Jafar as a father, her life was not pastel perfect as most Auradonians, “It’s not. I can’t give wishes to myself. If I did, I’d wish for people to like me, to be nice to me not because they like me, they think I might grant them something. And when I don’t grant them a wish, those fucking lying smiles and royal manners disappear. Because I am not human. I don’t get to be treated as if I have feelings or anything. Hell, one of my exes told me if I’m not granting wishes then I’m worthless because what else do genies live for?”

“And when I do grant wishes, usually against my will, I can’t even use magic against them. I can’t hurt my masters unless they wish for that or I find a loophole somehow. But I can’t find loopholes all the time,” Her mind automatically went to that awful night, the repeat that had almost occurred with Antiquam and Jordan choked. She hastily wiped away the tears that were beginning to streak down her cheeks.

Allah, she felt embarrassed as she saw Jay’s uncomfortable expression, eyes darting as if he wasn’t sure if he should comfort her or look away from her breakdown.

But she couldn’t stop, she felt words clamber and spill out of her throat like uncontrolled word vomit.

“And-and I wish that I didn’t have wishes to give. I wish I didn’t have to become semi-phenomenally cosmic just so I can be free. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to use it. Auradon has a fucking Magic Ban because it’s unfair to you, mortals. It’s unfair to us. Genies, and faey need their magic to live or else they’re just wasting away. Why are we punished for being born “better than you.”

“But instead, instead we have this. Resentment for being forced to hide ourselves so mortals can feel better. We can help people. But it’s also the same thing that makes people fear us and send those like Circe and Morgana Le Fey to the Isle and then they become evil because they’re bitter that they’d do this to them. Auradon creates their own enemies like a self fulfilling prophecy. “It’s like a winner’s curse.” Jordan muttered.

Sometimes when her father talked about Aladdin’s story, he phrased it as a series of winner’s curses. A winner’s curse, where one has all the power, the riches, everything they could want as a winner but the cons usually outweigh such gifts.

Jasmine was a privileged princess but that meant she was a target for a greedy vizier and princess who only wanted to add her money to their fortunes.

Aladdin got the lamp but it meant only that he had to be on guard to keep up his Prince Ali lie, and later, for Jafar who stole the lamp.

Jafar became a genie, he technically “won” since he got what he wanted, to become all powerful with phenomenal cosmic powers. But he couldn’t use it since he was stuck in an itty bitty living space.

A genie’s life was one big winner’s curse. She was beholden to people who only saw her as much of an object as her lamp and the wishes she could materialize.

Maybe everyone’s lives had a bit of a winner’s curse. The Aks “won,” got their happily ever afters in Auradon but others would always be resentful of their status and try to take it away from them. Like all of their most dangerous enemies that lived just across the bridge plotting to do just that.

And if they won, if they somehow managed not to screw up saving the world, the villains would still rise to do just that. Someone will be jealous of their fame and try to usurp the glory. People might see her as more than a wishmaker... or people would just see it as bonus. Date her for the popularity and the power.

There would always be something to outweigh the good.

And unlike any other curse, there was no way to break it.

“And I thought maybe if I did this, helped lead to save Auradon that it could change. People would see that magic can be used not just for selfish desires but to help the kingdom. That I’m so much more than wish fulfillment. But all this proved just the opposite. I can’t lead. I should be accept that my life will eventually be solitude and greedy people. And admit my parents were right all along to boot.” Jordan sank to the ground, staring uselessly at her wrists where the gold bracelets would usually shine like a mocking reminder.

And for some reason, Jay was caught by that last part rather than the real emotional turmoil that she talked about before.

“I thought-why are you so upset your parents are right?” He asked

Jordan wiped her eyes again now that she was no longer feeling weepy, “I love my parents and I love hanging out with them but- you know. They’re not- They gave up parenting me so I- I thought I would get back at them by not being like them at all. I’m serious and hard working and not spontaneous at all. Just be nothing like them, cut ties and all that. Well,not that I had to try too hard, a lot of my personality comes natural but I wanted to stick it to them.”

“Not that they care. They say it’s just a phase and when I’m a grown up, I’ll act like a regular genie like thm. Still.. hate to prove them right.”

“To be fair, I think some of the standard genie personailty comes from being in solitary confinement for thousands of years at a time,” Aziz said with a small smile as he slid down next to her.

Just like old times.

Jordan genuinely smiled at the glimpse of Aziz, the Aziz that was her best friend and brother and confident, her platonic soul mate that she loved. “Actually, because I made that vow to accept that I’m a genie and that I should act like one, that’s why I was more interested in your love life than usual. You’re my Aladdin so I had to keep you safe from your worst mortal impulses. As usual.”

Aziz’s small smile faded and Jordan frowned at the change, remembering their previous words, “Though we’re not like our Dads… not if you just-”

“I don’t tolerate you for the wishes you might grant me.” Aziz said, directly staring her in the eye so she’d know he was telling the truth. Not that she needed that, somewhere in her heart she knew that had been a lie. But what hurt more than the lie itself was..

“Then why the hell would you say that? You know that’s my worst fear and that you’re one of the few exceptions. Why would you-” “I wanted to hurt you as much as you’d you hurt me.” Aziz answered calmly.

“How have I ever hurt you? I’m the one always saving your neck!” Jordan defended.

“That’s exactly it! You’re always trying to save me or set me up on dates because you don’t think I can do it myself. You think I lead with my dick, that I’m clumsy and breakable and impulsive and foolish. The same thing you think of all mortals. And I thought I was the one exception to you, but I’m not.” Aziz cried.

Jordan scoffed, not sure how to respond except, “Can you blame me? You mess up on so many things.”

“Thanks, Jordan. Really.” Aziz rolled his eyes, “Thanks for thinking the same things of me as everyone else does.”

Aziz seized up Jay who came to sit down across from them in a small triangle with a bewildered look at their back and forth. Totally confused as to the thought that Aziz could have problems of his own which Aziz was too happy to correct.

“You don’t think I can do anything on my own. Everyone else thinks I’m forgettable, I’ve been totally useless on this mission. The only reason people know me is because I’m Aladdin’s son and you’re my genie. That’s it. But Jay… Jay is….”

Jay tensed as if already waiting for the moment he could punch Aziz for the insult.

“Jay is wonderful,” Aziz mocked in a high falsetto before going back to his normal voice, “”Jay is so charming and agile and clever. He’s a real thief.” Do you know how much it sucks for people to say that you’re more like Aladdin than me?”

Jay gaped, “Um-h-how I never-No one told me?” “No, they’d never tell you that your similar to one of Auradon’s heroes. I’m the one they tell.. Straight to my face how they think you’re more Aladdin’s son than I am,” Aziz said bitterly.

“Well, you’re definitely Jasmine’s son. You have her political intelligence,” Jordan pointed out optimistically as she used to do when Aziz vented about Jay. Cutting off Jay’s proud smile when he opened his mouth, clearly about to self brag at the worst possible moment.

“It still sucks. I’m forgettable to people. Invisible now that Jay’s around.” Aziz turned to Jay, “I used to wish you were a mini Jafar. I would have had more of a reason to hate you if you were like your dad, and I wouldn’t have to admit that I’m just so jealous that you’re better than me in everything.”

Aziz felt his blood pump, and stod up, pacing for more room as more feeling spilled into words that he hadn’t been able to say out loud before, “I’m not like the other princes. I’m not going to rule Agrabah, my sister is, so what do I do? I don’t have to take governing classes or really find a future queen right away which is great but- that made me even more unremarkable. I had no prince duties, I’m not a mini Aladdin. It felt like my introvertedness, my own personality was preventing me from following my legacy. And I tried to change myself to be more outgoing and be one jump ahead of what everyone expected of me but then Jay came and then…. I felt like I was always going to be inferior to everyone. All the Jays and the magical genies around me were more interesting than I could ever be.”

Jay’s proud look vanished, taking on a more thoughtful expression, “Maybe I could help you be better? So we’re equals in stealing.” Before this conversation it would have been mocking, another punch to the gut, but Aziz could see that Jay was being genuine, and Aziz smiled at the offer.

“Thanks but no thanks. I had a conversation with a friend,” He turned to Jordan, emphasizing, “Just a friend, and she made me realize that if people can’t bother to see past my introvertedness or prefer Jay over me, that I don’t need them.”

Aziz turned to Jay once more, “But I’m sorry that I took out all my jealousy on you, and acted like you the Jafar I wanted you to be.”

Jordan leaned his shoulder, still thinking of his previous words, “I’m sorry that I made you think you weren’t the exception to my view of mortals. You are. I don’t think you’re completely incapable of doing things on your own. I like hanging out with you, we have the best times together. And your… your love life is entertaining. Honestly, sometimes-and you’re not allowed to overanalyze this like usual or use me as your case study in psychology class again-maybe the reason I’m so invested in your life because it’s better than my own. And if you need me, you won’t leave me. But if it bothers you, I’ll ask for your permission first.” Aziz side-hugged her and for once, did not try to probe that admission ripe for psychoanalytical analysis, “'Ant ealiq maei, Bmout Fiki.”

“You know, I really dislike when you talk like that in front of me.” Jordan and Aziz unhugged and looked quizzically at Jay, “What the sentimental mushiness? You’re stuck in a heart to heart, you gotto deal with it.”

“No, the Arabic thing. I don’t know,” Jay almost physically shrank back as if wishing he could take the words back but he continued trying to pretend he was talking to Jade again or his friends, “Like you said Jafar only taught me how to steal and cheat, not language. I-I want to, I heard so much about Agrabah but…”

Jay sighed and started again, “I want to know stuff like Arabic and see Agrabah but you always stuck together and throw it in my face that I don’t know those things. How can I? It’s not my fault that I was born here. I never had a chance to learn all the things you know. Or learn “big words” or-or anything you grew up with. You know I’m not like you and you keep judging me for that. I’m trying to change and you think I’m lying.”

Aziz and Jordan looked shame-faced at the floor, mullifying the last of Jay’s previous anger towards them.

“I am trying. But- Everyone else is doing better than me. Mal is embracing her role as a court lady, Carlos is having a blast at school, getting to learn techno stuff and helping the animal shelter. Evie has her business. I have tourney and R.O.A.R. but that still involves the fighting that makes me a Vk.”

“But we- it doesn’t make you a Vk,” Aziz faltered on the point because they all knew it was wrong. Jay’s aggression on the court was another thing that made him stand out compared to the polite royals who never fought in their life. So vulgar, so ruthless. So villainous.

“I still can’t stop myself from stealing shiny objects. I still seek out the exits of each room because that’s just what you do here to survive. It- I feel like I haven’t improved as much as the others have but I don’t know how I’m supposed to get better. But I have changed. I’d forgotten how bad it is here, I got soft.. I’m just stuck.”

“And I thought I was doing better. I care about my friends like good guys do. I protect them but I haven’t really,” Jay admitted, some of his former doubts of whether his big brother title was earned, resurfacing.

“I’ve done nothing for my friends, and I heard you don’t need to but I- I was not raised that way. You have to be able to offer something if you want to be worth anyone’s time. Everything is transactional. Dad cared for me because of what I could give him. I thought it was the same with friends. Even though it’s not transactional, I still feel like a worthless friend without being able to offer anything.” Jay ended abruptly, shifting his gaze to the lint on the oriental rug, picking at it to give himself something to do than look at their pitying stares, “I really haven’t changed if I still think like Dad, I guess, but I can’t shake it.”

But Jordan placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look up at, not pity, but a sort of understanding.

They had all messed up. Resenting each other for not seeing their difficulties, for basing their views on expectation and legacy rather than reality and how the shadows of their parents haunted many of their actions.

But with the truth revealed, the biases stripped away, they wouldn’t continue.

“I’m sorry. Neither of us have been treating you fairly, but we could teach you Arabic. If you join us in Agrabah for vacation,” Aziz trailed off, offering his hand.

“Sure,” Jay smiled, “I think I’ll be able to get through it now without wanting to punch you.”

They all stood up, stretching out their limbs, feeling much more relaxed now that some of the air was cleared.

“What are you smiling about?” Aziz punched Jordan’s shoulder to get her attention from wherever she was zoning out.

“I was just thinking it’s a funny coincidence that we’re all sexy, witty bisexuals with daddy issues and a love for gold, jewels and parkour-flipping adventures,” Jordan raised a sardonic eyebrow, “But I can’t figure out if it’s just us or maybe all Agrabahians share that.”

The three took a pause, staring at each other at the surprising commonality between them.

Jay was the first to recover with his usual smirk, “I don’t know about these two or the supposed “daddy issues” but sexiness always applies to me.”

“Get over yourself.” Aziz rolled his eyes before unsubtly puffing up his own chest, “We all are sexy. It’s practically in our national anthem. “More than often that not, we’re hotter that hot-“

“In a lot of good ways.” Jordan finished, bumping her hip against his, the first friendly smile she gave to him in days, "Though I'm the wittest out of us."

"You? Really? You don't snark, you just insult people." Jay retorted.

"It's true. And you always "reference" things that only your parents know. Like when you go all Spanish, "Say hello to my little friend." Aziz added.

"That's from Scar-right you don't know that. Well there's um...What great one-liners have you've come up with?" Jordan shot back, clearly perturbed by Jay and Aziz teaming up against her with the same condescending look on her banter skills.

Aziz, the more diplomatic of them, swung an arm over her and Jay’s shoulder, “Let’s not get into another argument now. Even if it’s a stupid argument. We have a battle plan to do.”