#not to be taken seriously i just think it’s funny. maybe he’d use that new knowledge to shop for hair masks for jason. idk

[mysterycitrus]

i draw dick as robin w straight hair and dick as an adult w proper curls because i do not believe bruce wayne was cognisant of the curly girl method in the early aughts whereas kory took one look at dick with his fluffy, unmoisturised nightmare of a scalp and was like i can fix him ❤️

[awhoreintheory]

okay so MCU canon Peter in DC is all funny and games but what about comic canon Peter? Peter who’s in his 30s, whose life is falling apart(again) and has clones to deal with(man I hate the fact that Ben became evil :(.)

extra points if Miles and/or Mayday is with him. This single dad is STRUGGLING. And the bats wanna help him/his kids cause man! Look at them :(

(extra extra points if Dick = Richard Parker. That’s a whole nother can of worms. Like the bats are thinking Peter = Family of Dick they didn’t know but NO! It’s actually Dick’s son! Dicks a granddad!)

I want to PSA to anyone sending asks/requests, I'm not ignoring you!! I'm just a slow writer!!! I hope you enjoy though <33

Peter B. Parker could, 100%, picture landing in (yet another) alternate universe. You know what? As a matter of fact, he expected it.

What he didn’t plan for, however, was being stranded in another universe with his baby girl strapped to his chest. 

But here he was, crouched in a narrow alley in the darkest corner of Gotham City, New Jersey. From the name alone, Peter knew he landed himself in a section of the Multiverse Miguel had expressly labeled as off limits. It wasn’t his fault he’d landed here, though!

One minute he’d been web-swinging through New York, enjoying a rare peaceful day with Mayday babbling happily, and the next he was crash-landing onto a grimy rooftop in the most dangerous city he’d ever seen. It was like New York turned up to eleven, all shadows and towering gargoyles, dripping with rain that seemed perpetual. The interdimensional bracelet he’d been given to travel the multiverse was sparking and smoking in his pocket— total toast. He was officially stranded. 

Ok, so it maybe, kinda sorta, been an eensy weensy, tiny bit Peter’s fault. 

Peter’s, very high-tech and likely expensive bracelet had been, uh, scratched in a fight the day before. Barely even a nick! He swears he could’ve reattached the wires and fixed the screen. 

He probably should’ve also taken the watch out of his robe pocket before he started swinging Mayday to daycare. 

MJ was going to be so mad. 

It became evident early on it’d take a little bit to find a way home, or for someone to find him. If it had just been Peter, he could’ve roughed it on some rooves and abandoned buildings. It wouldn’t be a big deal, he knew he would be getting home eventually. Being a little smelly was the least of his worries. 

But he had his baby girl with him. 

So, with the money in his wallet, he found an under-the-counter, rundown but otherwise warm, apartment in a place called Crime Alley. (What a seriously terrible name) Peter started pulling together whatever side gigs he could, fixing appliances, tuning up electronics, just enough to get by. Even for a guy who was used to scraping by, the situation felt bleak, especially with Mayday depending on him. 

His little red-headed whirlwind was still too young to understand what was happening, but she noticed the tension and started clinging to him more tightly. Peter knew he couldn’t keep this up forever, but he wasn’t sure how to trust anyone in a city that had both criminals and vigilantes lurking around every corner. When he spotted someone in a cape swinging overhead, he instinctively hid in the shadows, holding Mayday close, her tiny face tucked into his shoulder.

But the Bats noticed him. 

It was hard not to notice a single dad with no records, no job, and no explanation for why he was squatting in Gotham’s most dangerous neighborhood. Bruce, ever vigilant, put out word to the family to keep an eye on him. 

Jason, who patrolled Crime Alley, wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “A guy moved into my turf with a baby?” he grumbled to Tim. “Either he’s got a death wish, or he’s crazy.” 

Tim, on the other hand, was fascinated by the mystery. He dug through every database he had access to, and then some. But “Peter Parker” returned zero results— at least, none that matched this Peter Parker. no criminal record, no birth record, no online footprint. It was like he just spawned in! 

Dick didn’t have a whole lot of opinions. He thought the man was nice, though he had only met him once in a routine mugging. He evidently cared for his daughter, and matched Nightwing’s wit and humor pretty nicely, too. He looked annoyingly familiar too. Maybe it was Tired Dad Chic? He kind of reminded him of Bruce, in a way. 

Steph seconded the funny part. This Peter guy could be one of those dark-humor comedians. 

From what they observed, and conversations supplied by Jason (who was his neighbor in a series of fortunate events), Peter really did seem to just be an ordinary guy.  

Then one night, Peter was picking up groceries from a corner store when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find a man in a ski mask brandishing a knife, gesturing for his wallet. 

“Hand over the money, and I won’ hurt ya’ kid.” The man threatened, waving his knife around threateningly. Peter tensed, dropping his groceries in favor of cradling Mayday closer. 

Peter blinked at him tiredly. “The best I can offer is some lint and a can of beans.” 

The man tensed, stepping closer in an attempt at intimidation. Peter thought that his face turning red with anger was kind of funny.

“Don’t fuckin’— are you makin’ fun of me?” The man fumed. Peter might have let out a sleep-deprived chuckle, partially forgetting to respond. 

The mugger lunged, and before he could dodge, Peter felt a searing pain in his side as the blade plunged in, his vision blurring with the shock. Normally, Peter would’ve disarmed the guy without breaking a sweat, but tonight, with Mayday in his arms and his body worn from days of restless sleep, he kind of just… blinked and the knife was there. 

Peter blinked again, then looked back up at the man.

“Oh, wow,” he said, his voice dripping with deadpan sarcasm. “A knife in Crime Alley? Super original. Really, I’m honored to be a part of your creative process.”

The mugger blinked, clearly caught off guard. Peter rolled his eyes, adjusting Mayday to better apply pressure to his side. “Next time you stab a guy, maybe aim for someone with insurance.”

The mugger stumbled back, looking increasingly confused by Peter’s lack of fear. Peter sighed, bouncing Mayday gently as she began to fuss. “Listen, I’m already running on no sleep and the caffeine fumes of yesterday’s coffee. And now you’re just making my night even worse.”

Peter winced, feeling the slow but consistent leak of blood. His healing factor was helping, but it was dulled due to lack of sleep and hunger. 

Between one long blink and the next, someone had jumped down and knocked out Peter’s would-be mugger. 

After another blink Peter realized he was on the ground, Mayday’s wails filled the air, her cries echoing down the alleyway, and Peter tried to smile through the pain. “It’s okay, baby,” he mumbled, clutching her tightly. “Daddy’s fine… just a little… scratch.” But his vision was going hazy as he pressed a hand to his bleeding side. The world began to spin.

One of the vigilantes that Peter recognized as Red Robin rushed over, talking hurriedly into a comm. Peter blinked up at him, his mouth curling into a weak smile. “Hey, nice costume,” he muttered. “Does the utility belt come in dad sizes?” 

Red Robin blinked in surprise, but otherwise keept his focus as he worked to stop the bleeding.

“It doesn’t, unfortunately.” Red Robin offered, popping open his emergency med kit. “I’ve got help on the way, ok? Stay awake for me.” But his attention was snagged when Mayday, overcome with distress, reached out to him, her tiny hands gripping his arm. She wasn’t just clutching it— she was sticking to him, her fingers locked like suction cups on his suit. Tim’s eyes widened as she scrambled up his arm, scaling it like a bug on a wall. 

Red Robin took it in stride, scooping Mayday up as he continued to work. Peter had been on the Meta radar for a bit— a few things here and there just a little off, and it was mostly based on Red Robin’s time spent with super-powered individuals. 

But as he patched up Peter, he discreetly swiped a sample of blood, stashing it in his belt just as the Batmobile pulled up. 

—

Later that night, he ran the sample through the Batcomputer, expecting some small lead. A Meta, possibly insect-based? What with how the kid had stuck to him. Instead, the results left Tim absolutely speechless. 

Peter Parker, the man who was in his early 40s and a single father, didn’t just match someone in the system— it matched Dick Grayson.

Not as a brother, or a cousin, but as a son. 

Tim must’ve ran the test at least 100 times. It came back the same every single time. 

Tim called Bruce and the rest of the family, each of them crowding around the screen with varying levels of shock and amusement as the analysis rolled in. Dick was dumbfounded, staring at the results in disbelief. 

“You’re telling me this guy is my… son?” he stammered, struggling to wrap his mind around it. 

Bruce, socially unaware in all his glory, tried to comfort Dick. “He’s likely from far into the future. Barry said there was a ripple in the timestream around the time Peter showed up.” 

“So what does that make Mayday?” Jason asked, snickering. 

“His granddaughter?” Steph said with a teasing grin. 

“Wow, Dick. You went from a dad to a grandpa in the same minute.” 

“That’s gotta be a world record.”

“You think we can submit this for a Guinness World Record?”

Dick groaned, rubbing his temples as Jason laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. 

“He’s from the future, right? Something must’ve gone wrong on his end," Tim said, folding his arms with a thoughtful look. "He’s definitely got the skills. Moves like you, Dick. It's obvious he's had training.”

Dick couldn't help but smirk, puffing up a little with pride. “Of course he does. He’s got Grayson blood in him, after all.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah, because the whole ‘falling on his face with a baby strapped to him’ bit? So graceful.”

Tim rolled his eyes, trying to stay on track. “Look, I don’t know why he didn’t come to us for help in the first place, but the point is, he’s family. We should get him back to his time, if that’s even possible.” He looked over to Bruce. “Are any speedsters available? Maybe the League could lend us Wally or Barry—"

“Hold on,” Dick interrupted, frowning. “I’m not sure we’re ready to ship him off just yet. The guy’s been trying to make it on his own. He’s got a baby to look after, and I think he’s afraid of dragging us into whatever’s going on with him. You know this family and their pride.”

Damian, who had been silent up to this point, finally piped up, his arms crossed. “I’ve seen him with the baby. She’s… persistent.” There was an almost begrudging respect in his tone. “But he clearly doesn’t have the resources to keep her safe here. If he did, he wouldn’t be living in Crime Alley.”

Dick nodded. “Exactly. The guy’s holding it together with duct tape and dad jokes. We can help him and get him back on his feet while we figure out a way home.”

Bruce, listening intently, finally spoke up. “He’s right. Until we find a way to get him home, Peter and his daughter stay here. We’ll pull together whatever resources we can to help them both.” 

Steph and Tim shared a look. He just wanted to meet his grandson and great-granddaughter. 

There was a beat of silence as everyone absorbed the decision, and then Tim looked at Dick, a small smirk playing on his lips. “So… you ready to be a dad, Dick?”

Dick flushed, looking a mix of horrified and pleased. “I’ll just stick to ‘Uncle Dick’ for now. Baby steps.”

EXTRA:

“Hey,” Jason drawled, barely suppressing a smirk as he looked over at Dick, “you think we can submit this for a Guinness World Record? Fastest unplanned parenthood, or maybe most confusing family reunion?”

Dick rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite hide his grin. “Very funny, Jay. Maybe we can submit you for most inappropriate comments per minute.”

Jason chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Just saying, man, it’s impressive. One day you’re Nightwing, lone acrobat extraordinaire, and the next? Boom— you’re the proud father of a scruffy, interdimensional— what'd you say it was, Tim? Spider-dad? A Spider-dad.”

Tim snickered, glancing up from his laptop. “We’re all just living in a 'Strangest Family Reunion’ reality show at this point. Besides, if anyone’s submitting to Guinness, it should be Peter for most relentless optimism under terrible circumstances.”

Bruce cleared his throat, giving them all a look. “Enough. This isn’t a joke. We have a situation to handle here.”

Dick, still grinning, turned back to Bruce. “All right, fine, we’ll save the record-breaking for later. Right now, I say we start by finding this guy and getting him some real help.”

[littlelambscandyland]

Let Her Be

CG!House x Little!Autistic!Fem!Reader

Notes- Made the gal autistic because I am and couldn't stop myself from writing this, leave me alone, lol. That being said I just got my laptop working again, so I'll be working on requests again soon!

Warnings- Skin Picking (around the nails), Arguing (Cuddy and House), Hyperventilating, Panic Attacks, Non-violent biting (mentioned),

(Fun Fact the word count is 2,012 which is the same year the show ended)

It'd been 20 minutes. 20 damn minutes and no one even knew what this conversation was even about anymore. Cuddy had come to talk to House about yet another one of the man's many neglected duties. Normally it’d be a quick in and out where he’d complain, moan, and insult but eventually do, somewhat, what she asked. However, when Cuddy entered his office she noticed one of their interns off to the side. You.

You had been hired a few months back. A part-time intern for the psychiatric department. Cuddy was initially hesitant to hire you on because of your own mental disorders. You were autistic, quite ironic that you went into psychiatry. Despite her initial fear you were proven very useful and hardworking. Sometimes she felt herself feeling bad for ever thinking so wrongly of you, thinking how she played into the stigmas wrongly, but other times she feels glad she pushed those aside to hire you on.

Then again, maybe it was a mistake. Not because of you, mostly. You experienced age regression in high stress situations or for reasons Cuddy wasn’t quite aware of, and House had taken some special interest in you. He made excuses for you to work more with his team. Eventually Cuddy gave in letting you help with their cases by, essentially, being the patients temporary therapists. She gave you a raise and promoted you from intern, though most people still thought of you that way as Cuddy basically made up a position for you, just to shut House up.

The problems only really came when Cuddy noticed House having you around, almost, all the time. Noticing that unless he sent you away you were glued to his side. She also noted that you seemed more childish whenever he was around. Eventually, she realized you were regressed during these times. Of course, by realizing it was actually Wilson telling her after ranting to him about her confusion.

Now the actual problem wasn’t all of this. No. The problem was with House keeping you around all the time you weren’t able to do your actual job. You seriously couldn’t do it while in the mindscape of a five year old. It was ridiculous, so with feeling like there was nothing else to do she changed your job again. This time she made you House’s personal intern. Your new job entitles keeping him on track and mentally stable. Tieing in his need for you to be around and your degree in psychology.

Back to the present. It’s the first time Cuddy had to come and remind House of his job. The man had even been doing his clinic hours with a little less complaints. Today, though, House hadn’t been out of his office all day. According to Forman, House quickly dismissed them of any and all cases, and you’d done nothing about it.

So, here Cuddy was trying to talk to two incredibly distracted people. You wrapped up in a chair at a desk House had added just for you, and House sat opposite from Cuddy. He sparred more looks toward you than at Cuddy. Despite the “serious” talk, House just couldn’t ignore you. Sending funny faces or glances when you weren’t looking. If anyone knew any better they’d say House’s eyes were filled with adoration more than fascination.

And if anyone knew any better they’d realize they were right.

House had no idea when or why you became so important. He remembers meeting you, how kind you were. He remembers how he’d made a rude comment and you immediately shot back. He remembers how he called you out only for you to do the same to him. House remembers how you took everything he threw at you in stride. How you were so sweet and funny. How you willingly showed yourself with little doubt. He saw how sweet you were. How smart you were. How honest you were.

It was just you. Everything about you. He felt protective and calm with you. House felt like he didn’t have to mask himself around you. You openly answered anything he asked you and you told the truth. He knew from the moment he saw you that you were an age regressor. House knew that you wouldn’t hide that part of yourself from him as long as he asked, so he did. House confronted you the way he does everyone, bluntly. You answered him with slight embarrassment, but openly you answered with kindness towards his curiosity. 

Ever since he confronted you on it you’ve been completely responsive to every push he’s given. House can’t explain why but when you willingly started regressing around him he’d gotten so happy that he couldn’t help but coddle you. Even he found it odd how you became so special. A simple fascination turned to admiration. He saw you as a new extension of himself. Not because of how physically young you were to him, but because of how mentally young you could be. Even out of regression you had a positive childish view on things, and House was begging to protect that. He knows how rare a girl like you is. He felt even more proud when you asked him to be your caretaker when you regress. He felt even more proud than that when Cuddy transferred you to a new position as his “personal intern”. He liked spending his days with you. He liked how you needed him.

Now he sat looking at you. Eyes filled with boredom that changes to love whenever he looks towards you. You sat at a colorful deskright across from him. Eyes interchanging between a screen, Dr.Cuddy, and House. Sweet distractions and an inability to hear whatever the two of you are being told. Thick irritation unable to crush your five year old wonder.

You remember asking House if he was alright with having you around so often. You knew how it could be being stuck with someone unwillingly. You remember him telling you to shut up and if he didn’t want you around you’d be gone by now. You remember making him smile genuinely, not a sarcastic cocky one. You remember him questioning everything about you like an intense interview. You remember the smile that he tried to hide in pride when you asked him to be your caretaker.

You moved as gracefully as you could with the new changes thrown at you. You acted with stability and a mask that could be unbreakable. Yet. Anytime you were with House, alone, you dropped the mask and he did too. Two people completely real with who they’re supposed to be, if only for a short time. He saw you in a way most people didn’t. He didn’t doubt you because of your disorder. House became, so quickly, such an important part of your life. Platonically, you loved him and he loved you. Neither of you would admit it, but even when you weren’t regressed you saw him as a father figure. Someone who is actually there, who actually cares about you.

So, here you sat at your desk. The mindset of a child as you did your best to do your damn job. Cuddy scolding you and House simultaneously. Her words work too quickly in a tone you didn’t enjoy so you took in kind the silly looks and glances from House. You “worked” on the small computer in front of you. An open document with random words or phrases you’ve typed out being the only “work” related thing open. All your tabs have games or silly videos on them. Despite your current age you did try to listen to Cuddy, it was just so hard.

Cuddy stopped her rant midway through a sentence. A look of annoyance played in her eyes. She looks over to House who is once again making faces at you, and she looks at you trying your best to suppress your giggles.

“Will you pay attention, damnit.” Cuddy exclaims in frustration.

The sudden exclamation made you stiffen. You immediately shot your eyes to your lap, afraid Cuddy would turn her glare to you.

“Hey!” House shouts out just as quickly. “Watch your tone in front of the kid.” He says with a bit of a tease.

Cuddy bit at her words for a moment. Gapping for only a few seconds while looking between you and House. Finding her words she finally speaks again. “She shouldn’t be a child right now!”

“Well, maybe we should be more accommodating.” House argues, playfully.

“House this is serious. I won't have a reason to keep her working here if she isn’t actually working.” Cuddy replies.

“She is working.” He shakes his head. “She keeps me on track.” He says matter-of-a-factly.

Cuddy narrows her eyes at him. “Not today she isn’t. Today she is the biggest distraction you’ve ever seemed to have. Today you haven’t even taken on a new case!”

Their conversation continues. A bickering background as your mind takes in the overall statement “I’m a burden”. Of course, that wasn’t what Cuddy was trying to say. That doesn't mean that wasn’t the message coming across to you.

Your hands shook as you started to pick at the skin around your nails. Your eyes blurred, not with tears, but because of your ragged breaths. You picked and tore at the flesh. The red didn’t really bother you as you continued to rip at your fingers.

Suddenly House was moving across his office.

“What are you doing?” Cuddy questions before her eyes land on you.

“Will you shut up for like five minutes?” House answers with a voice filled with indignation.

House is near you in seconds. He takes your shaking hands in his and holds them tightly. He tries to guide you. Keyword tries.

“Alright well this isn’t working.” He says to no one in particular.

He pulls you out of your chair and to the couch, sits you in between his legs, and wraps his arms around you. He holds you tightly and says something to Cuddy you can’t quite hear between your own heart beats. Something about not telling anyone something, something.

“Tell me what you need.” He commands.

You shake your head feverishly. You’re pulling his arms more and pushing your back against him.

“Alright, alright.” He says.

One hand goes to your head and his other goes to your legs. He repositions you until your face is shoved into his shoulder. A few more minutes of pushing and pulling, and a bit of biting from your side. Finally you're calm enough for him to get an answer from you.

“What happened?” He asks bluntly.

“burden…” You say, your voice lowly.

“You're not a burden..” House replies quickly.

“That’s what this was about?” Cuddy asked dumbfounded.

He rolls his eyes. “You’re still here?” House asks.

She huffs at him before beginning to walk out.

“Next time watch your mouth in front of the kid!” He calls out to her.

House turns his attention back to you. Your mouth latched onto the collar of his coat and you were lightly chewing on it. 

“What’re you a gerbil? Get that out of your mouth.” He says taking his collar from you. “You know how many germs may be on this thing?” He teases.

“sorry…” You whisper.

He snorts. “No you’re not.”

His response pulls a small giggle from you.

“Hey,” He nudges you. “You’re not a burden. You hear me?” House looks into your eyes.

You nod your head.

“Good. Because if that was your takeaway of the conversation we need to teach you more on reading a room.” He tells you condescendingly. “Because I,” He emphasizes. “Don’t think of you as anything other than my kid.”

The way your eyes lit up at his words made House’s heart swell. If humans were actually made of stardust, House could’ve sworn all of your stardust was in your eyes. A moment of peace after what felt so intense.

Thankfully House didn’t see Wilson standing outside his office watching as, what he called, “House makes progress”.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 10: Red Right Hand

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace Burgess x OC

Summary: In the midst of trying to juggle a dozen developing situations at once, Tommy and Lucy separately encounter the new pretty barmaid.

Word Count: 2,971

Notes: Warnings for depictions of blood and violence.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter  

Chapter 2: The Guns

“I’ll hang out here,” Lucy said, coming to a stop at the entrance of the church. He pulled off his hat, running a hand over his hair to smooth it.

“Thanks.”

“Mm,” she eyed the church warily. “Are you sure that you won’t burst into flames the second you step inside?”

He gave a fond nudge. “You’re not funny.”

Lucy snickered, nudging him back even as he smiled, beginning to climb the steps.

“This won’t take long.”

Huffing to herself, she crossed her arms, leaning against a wall and pulling a cigarette from her coat. It was likely that Polly had called Tommy to see her in the church because she had caught some inkling about the guns. Or maybe she just knew that Tommy wasn’t telling her everything. Which meant she wasn’t going to let it go until he did. 

She was annoying like that. 

The guns. The guns were a problem, but also an opportunity. She could still remember that night at the yard, a lantern clutched in Tommy’s hand while the rain pelted down on them. Charlie and Curly using a crowbar to wrench open the crate. Lucy had been beside Tommy, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm, pressed against his side to seek refuge from the chill that had come with the rain. It had taken all four of them to pull one of the large boxes from the crate. And the machine gun that greeted them when they unlatched the box and pulled it open had glimmered against the downpour. 

Twenty-five Lewis machine guns. Ten thousand rounds of ammunition. Fifty semi-automatic rifles. Two hundred pistols with shells.

It was like fucking Christmas. 

But with them had now come that copper from Belfast. Probably sent down to Birmingham with the sole mission of finding and recovering the stolen guns. That was no small problem. 

The door to the church creaked open and Polly stepped out, chin held high with a small huff when she spotted Lucy waiting. She walked past her without so much as a hello.

Screw you too, you old witch.

Lucy pushed the lump of bitterness at Polly’s constant rejection down. No point in getting upset over something that would never change. A moment later, Tommy came out of the church. 

“What did she say?”

“Well,” he cleared his throat. “I told her about the guns.”

“Let me guess: she thinks we should throw them in the cut.”

“Something along those lines, yes.”

“Are you?”

Tommy sighed. “I don’t know yet.”

Lucy looked at him shrewdly. Much as he may have pretended that he hadn’t made up his mind yet, she knew him better. Those guns weren’t going anywhere.

“I need to go take care of some boys who have been making trouble at the Marquis for the past couple of nights,” she informed him as they walked. “I’ll meet you back at the shop after?”

“You know, we have people who’ll do the brunt of the enforcing for us, these days,” Tommy said, eyebrow raised.

“Yes. But these boys are repeat offenders. Clearly they aren’t taking our men seriously.”

“Mm. Try not to get blood everywhere.”

“You know I never make any promises in that regard,” she grinned. Tommy snorted, stopping to give her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Be safe.”

“Always am. I’ll see you in a bit.”

∗ ∗ ∗

Peeling off her coat and removing her hat, Grace hung them both on the peg in the backroom, smoothing down her white shirt once before stepping out behind the bar. Harry was already busy wiping down a table. He smiled at her kindly.

“Still not too late to back out, you know,” he said. Grace smiled politely and shook her head. He shrugged. “All right. To work you get, then.”

He’d given her an impromptu training session right after she’d convinced him to hire her, so she already knew where everything was. They only had a few patrons at the moment, crowded around their tables and muttering quietly amongst themselves. A group in the corner were beginning to grow rather rowdy, laughing boisterously as they gulped down their drinks. Between pouring beer and whiskey she busied herself with tidying things behind the bar.   

The doors slammed open and a tiny woman strode in. She was dressed like a man, in dark trousers with a matching waistcoat over a white button down shirt, a gray hat identical to the ones that the Peaky Blinders wore pulled over her head, a black coat swishing around her legs. There was a gun clutched in her hand. At the sight of her all laughter and conversation suddenly ceased, the entire pub growing eerily silent.   

She strode to the bar and settled the arm holding the gun down across it. Shaking dark red, bouncy loose curls out of her face, she grinned at Grace.

“Hullo. You’re new,” her dark green eyes glittered with genuine warmth, looking Grace up and down.

“Um, hello,” Grace wasn’t quite sure what else to say. The woman tilted her head, the light catching slightly, illuminating the shape of her cheeks. There was a doll-like quality to her, only accentuated by her porcelain white skin and short stature. But the mischievous sparkle in her eyes could only be described as devilish.

“Whiskey, please. Irish.”

Grace hesitated. Harry had yet to tell her what the rules were in regards to serving women in the pub. The woman pressed still smiling lips together. There was a smudge of something red across her left cheek. Either it was blood, or the woman had been terribly off the mark when applying her lipstick.

“Miss. Winters,” Harry said, appearing from the backroom. He nodded to the gun still settled in her hand. “Do you mind?”

Winters looked down at the gun as if she’d forgotten that it was there, smile widening as she placed it in the holster inside her coat. “Sure,” she cocked her head to the side. “You’ve hired a new barmaid, Harry.”

“Yes.”

Glittering green eyes landed back on Grace. She fumbled awkwardly with the rag in her hands, hoping that Winters didn’t notice how flustered her constant, grinning gaze was making her.

“Hi. I’m Lucy Winters,” she thrust out a hand to Grace. Taking it carefully, she forced herself not to look away from those bright eyes as she shook her hand. 

“Grace Burgess.”

“Where are you from, Grace Burgess?”

“There’s no need for an interrogation, Miss. Winters,” Harry said. Lucy raised an eyebrow.

“It’s alright,” Grace said quickly, moving to pour Lucy the whiskey she’d asked for. “I’m from Galway,” she set the bottle back behind the bar and nudged the glass of amber toward the red head. 

Lucy’s eyes narrowed a very tiny fraction, as if assessing if she was telling the truth or not. She took a slow sip of her whiskey. Around them, the patrons had begun to return to their conversations, but in considerably more hushed tones than they were previously.

“You have, um…” Grace bit her lip, unsure how to say it. She instead just raised a hand to her own face, pointing at her cheek in the approximate spot where the splatter of red was smudged across Lucy’s face. Lucy’s brows furrowed, a hand wiping down the opposite cheek. “No. Um, here,” she reached into her pocket for her handkerchief, reaching across the bar, hand cupping Lucy’s chin to hold her face in place as she wiped the fabric across her cheek. Her skin was startling, almost alarmingly, cold to the touch. The red stained the pristine white of the handkerchief. Yes, it was definitely blood. But clearly not hers.

“Thanks,” Lucy’s eyes still danced with amusement, and Grace glanced away bashfully, refolding her handkerchief and tucking it away. 

“How did that happen?” she ventured, carefully. Lucy’s eyebrows rose, and she swallowed down the rest of her drink, tossing a few coins onto the bar.

“That’s a story for another time, love. Glad to see you got things all cleaned up, Harry,” she called to him from across the pub, then pushed away from the bar and headed towards the doors. “It was nice to meet you, Grace from Galway!” she called over her shoulder, the door swinging shut behind her.  

∗ ∗ ∗

“The coppers picked up Arthur,” she said, poking her head into her and Tommy’s office, where he was reading over some papers. His head snapped up.

“What?”

“He’s all bloodied up. Said something about a broken finger, too.”

He shot out of his chair, following her to the kitchen, where John had just hauled Arthur into a chair. He groaned deeply in pain.

“We need some booze for the cuts,” Lucy said, moving to riffle through the pantry. At no sight of any bottles of liquor, she straightened. “Okay, where the hell is everything?”

“Polly went on a cleaning frenzy a day or so ago,” Ada said apologetically.

“I’ll go get some rum from the Garrison,” Tommy huffed. At the mention of the pub Lucy’s head lifted, jogging to follow Tommy as he headed for the door.

“Hey, when you get there, check out the new barmaid that Harry hired,” she said softly to him. “She’s pretty.”

“Is that so?” he shot her an amused look.

“Mhm.”

“You’re a strange woman, you know that?”

“You like my strangeness.”

He touched her cheek lightly. “I do,” his eyes darted over her shoulder at another groan of pain from Arthur. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay,” she watched as the door clicked softly shut behind him, biting her lip to hide her smile.

∗ ∗ ∗

“Are you a whore?” 

The question, from the man who up until that moment had her half hypnotized by his beauty and deep voice, knocked her completely off balance, lips parting and eyes widening. In his eyes–the lightest pair of blue Grace had ever seen–something cold and suspicious looked back at her. 

“Because if you’re not, you’re in the wrong place,” he didn’t even wait to see her reaction to his words, turning on his heel with the bottle of rum he’d ordered and stalking from the pub. For a moment Grace could only stand there, jaw clenching with anger and humiliation while her cheeks flared pink. She grabbed the notes he’d set on the bar and slammed the doors to the snug closed with a little more force than necessary.

“He’s one of them you warned me about,” she said to Harry.

“Look, Grace, you’re a friendly girl but be careful. If I say something’s on the house, then say nothing to whoever you’re serving.”

She nodded. Harry looked down.

“If they decide that they want you, there’s nothing anybody could do about it,” he shot her an apologetic look. “Lucky for you, since he got back from France, Tommy doesn’t want anybody at all. Except…” he hesitated.

“What?”

Harry shook his head. “They’re just rumors. I shouldn’t say,” he glanced down. “Some people say he and his assistant, Lucy Winters, have…something going on.”

“The woman who was in here earlier, with the red hair?”

Harry nodded. “But,” he shrugged, “like I said, they’re just rumors,” he shuffled around her quickly, to attend to the other patrons and probably to avoid any more of her questioning. Grace remained standing there for a long while, just staring at the shelves of liquor before her, the sounds of the customers behind her little more than muffled noise. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Lucy sat sprawled out in a chair, her feet propped up on another as she watched Ada and Polly fuss over Arthur. All the while John pestered Ada from the sidelines.

Watching them all without Tommy, it was a miracle that they were able to survive a few hours without his constant supervision.

The door slammed open, the Devil, conjured seemingly by her thoughts of him, sweeping back into the room, a bottle of rum clutched in one hand.

“Let me see him,” Tommy walked around to face Arthur, opening the bottle and handing it to him, working quickly yet carefully as he dunked the cloth seeping in a steaming basin of water and rang it out while Arthur took a large swig of rum. “Give me that,” he took the bottle back, pouring a helping into the cloth and cupping Arthur’s chin in one hand. Arthur inhaled sharply as Tommy pressed the cloth to the cuts on his face. “You’re all right,” Tommy assured, wiping away the blood. Arthur grasped him by the arm. As he started to speak, giving a report of what Inspector Campbell had told him, Tommy stiffened and pulled away. 

When he was done speaking, he was met with silence. 

Tommy looked down and away, to the cigarette in his hand. Lucy suddenly became very interested in examining the toes of her oxfords.

“What’s wrong with you?” Arthur asked. “Lucy?” his eyes snapped to her. “What the fuck is going on, eh? What do you know?” she didn’t meet his gaze, instead choosing to focus on her rings, fiddling with them. Arthur let out a growl and turned to Polly. “What the fuck is wrong with him lately?”

Tommy straightened, jaw clenching. Lucy’s shoulders tensed.

“If I knew, I’d buy the cure from Compton’s chemists,” Polly said, and turned away. Lucy could feel the beginnings of a fight building in the air, leaving her teeth on edge, muscles tense.

“You tell her, but you won’t tell us?” Arthur hissed at Tommy through bloodied teeth. Lucy’s head lifted in surprise at his tone. Usually Arthur was the nicest towards her out of all the family members outside of Tommy. “Why? We’re family! She’s not–”

“Careful, Arthur,” Tommy’s voice had dropped dangerously. “Careful.”

Arthur retreated, eyes darting between them. Lucy thought she saw a flicker of regret there, before his gaze dropped to the floor.  

“Maybe we should talk about this at another time, when you aren’t so hard to look at, Arthur,” she suggested. “We have a meeting to get to,” standing, she gave Tommy a pointed look. He nodded, stiffly. She didn’t wait around to hear what he said to Arthur in farewell, heading straight for the door.

Her fingers twisted in her hair, running through her curls before yanking her cap on. Tommy’s hand was warm, even through the layers of fabric she was clothed in, when he rested it on her shoulder and turned her to face him.

“Arthur doesn’t mean it,” his voice was a soft rumble. With a half smile, she rocked her head from side to side.

“Yeah, I know.” But the others do, she added silently. Tommy looked at her sadly. He tried. He really did. But there was only so much that even he could do. It wasn’t like he could force them to like her. “I’m fine.” Taking the cigarette dangling from Tommy’s lips and pressing it to her own, she took a healthy drag before handing it back to him. “What do you want to do about…all of that?” she jerked her head towards the door. They began walking down the street, away from the betting shop.

“I don’t know yet,” he admitted with a tired sigh. For a brief moment, she let her hand rest comfortingly between his shoulder blades. He shot her a semi-alarmed look. “I don’t actually have meeting right now, do I?”

“Hm? Oh, no. That was a lie,” she shot a look over her shoulder at the house. “Figured we better get out of there before things got ugly.”

“Mm. Thanks.”

“Did you see the new barmaid?”

He shot her a look. “Yeah, I did.”

“And?”

He shrugged. “You were right.”

“You say that as though it’s surprising–hey!” she gaped at him in mock astonishment as he elbowed her playfully, his lips pressing together in that way they did when he was trying not to smile. “You’re a right bastard, you know that, Shelby.”

He chuckled, offering his arm to her so that she could loop her hand through it, palm resting over his bicep.

“So? Did you introduce yourself?”

“Not exactly.”

Something in his tone gave her pause. “Tommy…what did you say to her?”

“Nothing.”

“Tommy.”

“I just ordered the rum and left,” at her unconvinced look, he sighed. “I asked her if she was a whore.”

“You what!?”

“Alright, listen–”

“Tommy…” she half whined. 

“Oh, as if you weren’t wondering the same thing!”

“Yeah, but you can’t just ask someone that!”

He shrugged, unbothered. “Why not?”

“It’s…it’s rude!”

“Since when have you concerned yourself with manners?”

When she shot him a glare, it was to find him looking at her with a smirk, clearly taking quite a large amount of glee in teasing her. 

Bastard. He was lucky he was so pretty.

“She’s never gonna talk to us again,” she complained. Tommy chuckled, patting her arm.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, love.”

She nudged him lightly. “Cocky.”

He just chuckled again at her chastising, smiling to himself for a moment more before his expression turned more serious. “Ask around about her,” 

“Harry said she had references. I haven’t had time to properly verify them yet, though.”

“Pretty, highly qualified barmaids like that don’t just show up. Not here.”

Lucy chewed on her bottom lip. Much as she knew he was right, there was a not insignificant part of her that was tempted to just for once throw caution to the wind. Grace was so pretty. And she seemed so nice…

“Maybe she’s just down on her luck. Like I was.”

Tommy’s eyes were soft like the sky on a warm summer day. “No one’s like you, love.” 

Her heart fluttered, shooting him an affectionate look before stretching up to kiss his cheek, squeezing her arm around his as they walked in comfortable silence. 

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[fischerfrey]

A Christmas Prince; The Royal Wedding

Chapter 5: The Breaking Point

Summary: Dawn investigates the situation in Alderly, leading to unexpected consequences.

Words: 5k

Characters:

Dawn Harvelle and Evander Alderly by @potionboy3

Quincey and Olympia Alderly, Tess Brandon

Rocky Weasley by @magicallymalted

Pandora Lovelace by @gcldensnitch

Also featuring:

Evan Harvelle by @potionboy3

Beginning| Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Want to read the first fic in the series, A Christmas Prince? Click here!

Chapter 5: The Breaking Point

Dawn was on a video call with Rocky and Pandora, while Rosa and The Queen argued about flower arrangements.

“We're on our way to the airport,” Pandora was saying. “See you in just a few hours!”

“It’s arse o’clock in the morning, try and get some sleep on the plane, okay?”

“I'm on vacation,” announced Rocky. “I'll sleep after New Year's.”

“You’re insane.”

“Your blog is what’s insane,” Pandora said. “It got like a billion hits in under ten hours but why did you take down all the photos?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Everything you put up is like, gone,” Pandora explained. Dawn minimized the call window and pulled out his blog.

“Vanished about an hour ago,” said Rocky.

“I didn't take it down,” Dawn said, confused.

“Someone did,” Rocky observed.

“I bet I know who…”

~

Pince’s new office was on the same floor as Dawn’s wedding hell, so it didn’t take long for him to storm there. The culprit in question was talking one of the palace aides, a man by the name of Mr. Gorski.

“May I suggest a little damage control?” said Pince.

“I shall have a word with my friends in the press,” said Gorski.

“Much appreciated.”

The aide left and gave Dawn a funny look at the door.

Dawn stepped inside. “Did you censor my blog?”

“With all due respect, I thought we had talked about this, and agreed that…”

“I never agreed to my work being censored!”

Pince sighed and turned her computer screen to face Dawn, with all the pictures he had taken on full display. Another tab was open on the background, something about a company called Meadowlark but Dawn didn’t get a good look, before Pince maximized one of the pictures. The one showing Olympia and Gaia goofing off.

“Do you really think that this is the sort of image the royal family should portray?”

“I saw that it's trending!” Dawn argued. “It had tons of positive comments.”

“It's also a breach of protocol.”

“I seriously doubt,” said Dawn and took a deep breath. “…that traditional protocols were set up for viral social media.”

“Times change, protocol does not.”

“Well, in this case–,” Dawn started but Pince simply said: “Your photographs belong to us now. It's just the way that it is.”

Dawn couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Maybe he should have cleared a permission to post the images. He’d have to have a word with Quincey about this.

“Now, shall we turn our attention to the royal portrait?” asked Pince. “It is to be rendered at 4:30 promptly.”

~

“I can tell something's bothering you,” Quincey whispered. They were posed for the royal portrait, which Dawn had to admit, was not the best position to have a conversation in.

“Can we talk about it?” Quincey asked.

“I don't know, can we?” he hissed back. “It seems like we need a royal decree to go to the loo.”

“Who's ruffled your feathers now?”

“I had a rather unpleasant conversation with Miss Pince today,” Dawn explained. “I don't appreciate being controlled.”

“It's a balancing act,” said Quincey. “At the end of a day, they work for us, but we need to play by the rules.”

“She deleted posts from my blog, without informing me.”

“Please, be quiet Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness,” said Rosa.

“Once we get through the wedding and you're officially Prince Consort, we'll be at a better place to pick our battles,” Quincey added quickly.

“’Once we get through it.’ Sounds like you're talking about a medical procedure…”

“Let's just go with the flow. Keep calm and carry on, for now. Okay?”

The photographer cleared his throat, and both Dawn and Quincey assumed their poses.

“Chin up, King Quentin, give me some regality.”

Flash.

“Watch the smiling. This image must exude solemnity and control.”

Flash.

They were ordered to turn this way and that, change hand positions, change sides, and Dawn was getting annoyed. He knew this to be a part of life as a member of the royal family but Pince censoring his blog had already burned away much of his already short fuse.

“How much longer will this take?” he asked after twenty minutes.

“The sooner we get it right, the sooner we can go,” said the photographer.

“It’s the necklace,” said Miss Pince. “Who approved this? You, Miss Yaxley?”

Dawn realized they were talking about Tess’s necklace, and he grabbed it protectively.

“I…” Rosa started. “I thought it had been agreed upon.”

“I chose it,” said Dawn.

“Well, it's absolutely wrong! Take it off.”

“I want to wear it.”

“It's inappropriate,” said Pince and snapped her fingers for Rosa to take the necklace. Rosa walked over to Dawn apologetically.

“I really want to keep this,” said Dawn.

“This isn’t about you,” said Pince. “It’s about the royal portrait.”

“Quincey?” Dawn attempted, turning to his husband-to-be.

“Miss Pince, is there really no way he could…”

“This is the official portrait, Your Majesty, I’m afraid I must insist on the removal of the necklace.”

“I don’t see–,”

Pince stepped closer. “You two don’t want to insult the crown now, when we’ve come so far. It’s crucial we do everything by the books.”

Quincey sighed and Dawn could see the fight draining out of him. “Alright.”

“What?” Dawn asked.

“It’s just a necklace, Dawn.”

Dawn felt like he’d been dumped into cold water. Silently he took the necklace off but instead of giving it to Rosa’s expectant hand, he carefully put it in his pocket. Then he got back into his pose, and it certainly wasn’t hard not to smile anymore.

~

The atmosphere was not quite merry, when the family gathered together in front of a fireplace to read Christmas cards sent by the Alderlian people.

“It makes us proud to have you as our royal family. May you be blessed with the happiest of Christmases. Love, the Potters,” Queen Isabella read from her big, throne-like armchair. “All the cards from well-wishers have to be my favourite part of the season.”

“I love hanging Christmas cards from my partners and customers on my office wall back home,” said Tess.

“Would you like some coffee with that whiskey, Evander?” asked Quincey when Evander sat next to him on the couch. Evander made a face at him. Dawn could suddenly see them as kids, bickering over toys or the front seat of a car.

“Dear Royals, while I'm sure you're having a dandy Christmas at the palace, the real working people of Alderly are suffering…” the queen stopped short and cleared her throat. “This one isn't very festive.”

“Keep reading, mother,” said Quincey.

Isabella hesitated, but went on: “I've lost my job, as the business I owned and worked at my whole life, but which was put out of business by your New Alderly disaster. Thanks for nothing but a big lump of coal in my stocking this year.”

Isabella lowered the card and looked distraught. “We are doing everything we can, aren't we? That man has no idea how hard we're working for the long-term well-being of the kingdom.”

Evan nodded encouragingly. “Some people just like to complain. It's like I always say: can't let the naysayers bring you down. Right, peanut?”

“Dad…” muttered Dawn.

“All hail, Prince Peanut!” said Evander, raising his glass.

“All hail, the village idiot,” said Olympia.

“Mr. Harvelle has a valid point,” said the queen. “Mustn't let a malcontent disrupt the season.”

“Read another one, mother,” said Quincey.

“Dearest royal family, sending you warmest wishes this holiday... and hoping for the best. Merry Christmas…”

~

Olympia came with Dawn to wait for the arrival of Rocky and Pandora. Quincey had sent a car to fetch them from the airport. They were coming together, since Jimmy couldn’t get away until the wedding due to his father’s magazine going out of business. Nymeria was also working until Christmas Eve, so Maxim had postponed his arrival, too.

“I think there’s more to these New Alderly problems than meets the eye, but I've been too caught up thinking about the wedding protocols,” Dawn told the princess.

“What do you mean more?” Olympia inquired.

“Call it journalistic instinct.”

Just then the car pulled up and Dawn’s friends filed out.

“Dawn!” said Pandora excitably and came to give him a hug. Rocky followed suit.

“Hi guys,” said Dawn. He was very happy to see the two of them, especially after the insane stuff that had been going on in Alderly.

“You must be Princess Olympia,” said Pandora and curtsied. Dawn felt proud.

Rocky bowed and said: “It's an honour to be a guest of the realm.”

“Uh, excuse Rocky, this is his first royal wedding.”

Olympia laughed. “The realm welcomes you both. Abide, and you will avoid the dungeon.”

Pandora and Rocky exchanged glances.

~

Dawn showed his friends around. Their reactions were pretty much in line with Dawn’s own.

“Oh, my gosh, can you believe this place?” said Pandora. “It's amazing.”

“You think if we just moved in, they'd even notice?” Rocky asked.

“Let's give it a try.”

“Where are the knights in shining armour?” Rocky continued. “When's jousting? I want to joust.”

“I want wenches serving mead,” Pandora announced.

“There are no wenches in my kingdom,” said Quincey, who had appeared at the end of the hall. He walked up to them, smiling. He’d spent more time with all of Dawn’s friends throughout their engagement and they got along nicely. Dawn was willing to wager that Pandora and Rocky had more goodwill for the king than he did, at the minute.

“Quincey,” said Dawn. He was still pissed off about the necklace, but he didn’t want to start an argument when his friends had just arrived.

“My King!” said Rocky.

“Good to see you both again,” said Quincey.

“Good to see you, too,” said Pandora.  “You have a beautiful country.”

“So many dignitaries about, too,” said Rocky. “I never get to meet dignitaries at the Noodle Chalet.”

“I wish I could come have some fun with you three today, but sadly, my day is far from over. mother has the new accounts for us.”

Of course she did.

“Well, I’d love to stay and help but…” Dawn started.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t postpone our celebrations?” asked Pandora, looking between Dawn and Quincey. Dawn, however, had other plans in store.

“It’s quite alright, you should show your friends the sights of Alderly. But think of me when you're having fun.” His tone was a little off, so maybe he wasn’t completely unaware of Dawn’s hurt feelings.

“You heard the King, it's party time,” said Pandora.

“It's your bachelor night!” said Rocky. “We're gonna get it going!”

Quincey rolled his eyes at them in amusement and left. Dawn turned to his friends, half a plan formed in his mind.

 “Actually, there's something I was hoping you two could help me with.”

“What kind of something?” asked Rocky.

“A lead I want to follow up on.”

“A lead?”

“More of a hunch. Potentially a source.”

“Wait,” said Pandora “A lead for what? A scoop?”

“Discrepancies in the kingdom's finances,” Dawn explained.

“That sounds way more fun than a bachelor party,” said Rocky, sarcastically.

“Should've seen this coming. It's just days to your wedding, your best friends just flew in to celebrate, and you want to work?” asked Pandora.

“Yes. There's something going on in Alderly that doesn't make sense.”

“What does Quincey say?” asked Rocky.

Dawn scoffed, annoyed at the mere thought. “He's too busy going with the flow. Please, I need your help. There's someone we need to find tonight.”

~

Dawn’s plan involved finding the Christmas card sent by the displeased subject. It was from a man by the name of Aberforth Dumbledore. Tess agreed to help, too so they had four people combing through the cards instead of three.

“Let us search the realm for one Mr. Dumbledore,” announced Pandora.

“We should at least bring our sunglasses,” Tess said as a clear dig at Dawn for his disguise at the airport. “Having the Prince-Consort-to-be spotted roaming the city without any security might be a bit risky.”

“I’m security,” said Pandora but Tess was not convinced so they all dressed up as incognito as possible. Dawn put on a hat for good measure. He was aware of the risky nature of his plan, but he had started to seriously doubt the court’s ability to handle this situation.

~

The four of them went to the most popular pub in town to start with. The Three Broomsticks it was called, and they had it on good authority that it might be a place to find this Mr. Dumbledore.

“If this Aberforth guy isn't here,” said Pandora. “Can we please do something fun?

“Yes, something that resembles a bachelor party,” agreed Rocky.

“I spoke to Mr. Flitwick, and he said that Mr. Dumbledore’s been here almost every day since he lost his job.”

“Notice how he didn't answer my question,” grumbled Pandora to Rocky.

“Well, at least it's a bar…”

~

The bartender was an older lady with magnificent, light brown curls. Her name was Rosmerta and Tess went to ask her about their mystery man so as to protect Dawn’s identity. While he waited, a man walked up to him, clearly well into god knew how many pints.

“Why are you wearing sunglasses inside?” he demanded. “It’s dark as a dungeon in here.”

Dawn, not wanting to cause any kind of a scene but being well aware of how drunk people were capable of causing a fight from nothing, just said: “I have a light sensitivity disorder.”

The man did a double take and squinted his eyes at Dawn. “Do I know your voice from somewhere?”

“I gotta go, sorry,” said Dawn and joined Tess at the bar. He very much did not want to be discovered here.

Rosmerta pointed them to one of the corner tables, where an elderly chap was sitting, nursing a pint of ale.

Dawn approached, his companions behind him.

“Aberforth Dumbledore?”

“Who wants to know?”

“I’d like to ask you some questions.”

Aberforth did not seem particularly forthcoming when he asked: “What kind of questions?”

“About your work situation.”

“You some kind of reporter?”

“Well, sort of,” said Dawn and removed his sunglasses.

“Merlin’s beard,” said Aberforth, obviously recognizing Dawn. “What the devil are you doing here?”

“I want to help,” Dawn said. “The situation is getting out of hand, and I think I might be able to do something about it. Not that King Quentin isn’t trying his best, he’s barely slept since I got here.”

“And I'm supposed to feel sorry for him?” asked Aberforth. “How much sleep you think I've been getting?”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Dumbledore, that's not what I meant,” said Dawn, backpedalling. “It's just that they... that we are all trying to find the best solution.”

Aberforth scoffed. “But you're one of them. Why should I trust you?”

To be fair, Dawn probably hadn’t thought this thing through. He wasn’t used to not being the underdog himself so having it thrown to his face made him hesitate. Still, he pressed on: “Why else would I be here? I want to understand what's going on, too.”

Aberforth sighed and motioned for them all to sit down. Maybe because he actually believed Dawn or maybe because he figured if he cooperated, they’d all leave him alone sooner.

“This whole New Alderly initiative, it's a fraud. It was supposed to be a way to get the country to invest more money back into itself. That be the case, the money should actually stay in Alderly.”

Dawn took out a tiny notebook and a pen. He wasn’t going to fumble what might very well be his last chance of doing some actual investigative journalism.

“I owned a pub called Hog’s Head Inn for 45 years before we were shut down.”

“If local businesses like yours aren't getting a piece of the pie, then who is?” asked Dawn.

“Well, a new company, Meadowlark. They bought out many local businesses and there simply weren’t enough customers to stay afloat. They could afford lower prices.”

Meadowlark grabbed Dawn’s attention. It was the name he’d seen on Pince’s computer this very morning. This, however, was the first time he was hearing anything about a big corporation buying out local businesses.

“An Alderlian company?”

“Well, on paper, maybe. But them and another couple of companies formed at the start of the initiative. All a bit fishy, if you ask me.”

Dawn wrote down everything he thought relevant as fast as he could. Aberforth eyed him and then asked: “What are you planning on doing anyway?”

“Getting to the bottom of this.” Dawn said determinedly. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Dumbledore. It's a good start.”

Aberforth nodded. “I never did like being called Mr. Dumbledore. Aberforth will do if you happen on these parts again, Your Highness.”

“Alright, Aberforth–,” Dawn started, when suddenly someone yelled across the room: “There he is! With the hat!”

“I think we got trouble,” said Rocky, standing up quickly.

“Dawn! Dawn Harvelle!”

“For cock’s sake,” Dawn swore and slipped his notebook back into his pocket.

The four of them retreated to the very back of the pub but paparazzies had already been alerted to their presence. Suddenly someone grabbed Dawn by the arm, and he jumped.

“Follow me,” said Evander of all people. “I know a way out.”

“What the hell?” asked Dawn.

“Or you can stay here and be picked clean by the vultures,” Evander said urgently.

“What… You tipped these people off, didn't you?”

“If I tipped them off,” Evander demanded. “Why would I be trying to help you escape? Let's go.”

“I don’t see any other way out of here,” said Tess.

“Fine,” Dawn relented, and they all followed Evander out from a side exit.

~

Once outside and away from the earshot of any paparazzi, Dawn asked: “Did you follow us here?”

“We're fighting on the same side here,” said Evander.

“I don't know what angle you're playing, but I know you're playing one.”

“This is my car, come on,” he said, ignoring Dawn’s comment. It was tiny and old, and Dawn couldn’t place its model. All he could do was ask: “What happened to the Lamborghini?”

“It was a Ferrari and I told you I had to sell it,” Evander said. “Now get in unless you want those people to catch up with us.”

They filed in, Dawn stubbornly in the back while Tess took the front seat. He didn’t appreciate having to be rescued by Evander.

“Thank you,” said Tess.

“Why on Earth did you think it was a good idea to go snooping to town?” Evander asked and he was clearly talking to Tess, made more evident when he added: “Dawn’s the most famous person in the country right now.”

“In my defence,” said Rocky from the right side of Dawn. “I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

“We wanted to help,” said Tess. “And I think we might have found something worthwhile.”

~

“Not much on Meadowlark Enterprises…” Dawn said later back at the palace. He’d pulled out his laptop and was trying to find out any information he could about the mysterious company. “Just a public web site with no physical address. It's like someone's scrubbed the records. There's no footprint.”

“Is that the best you can do?” asked Evander.

“Remind me again why you're here?”

“I rescued your asses from the paparazzi,” said Evander. “And I know more about the economic situation than you.”

“Really?” asked Dawn. “Here I thought you were just a waste of space.”

“You have such a way with words,” said Evander.

“Well, I am a writer.”

Rocky drew Dawn’s attention back to the computer screen.

“Hey, check that out,” he said. “Looks like Meadowlark is getting the lion's share of the contracts with these two other firms: Geller Inc., and Houghton Alexis.”

“Those must be the others that Aberforth was talking about,” Dawn mused, examining the screen.

“Do you know anything about those companies?” Tess asked Evander who looked slightly surprised at being asked a direct question.

“No, but I do know that any company involved in public works projects has to register their financial information with the Hall of Records database.”

“How do we get in there?” asked Dawn.

“You're the one with the King for a fiancé,” said Evander.

“I don't want to ask Quincey about this. Not unless I really have to.”

“Why not?” asked Evander, smugly. “Do I detect trouble in paradise?”

“Wipe that stupid look off your face,” said Dawn.

“Guys,” said Pandora. “Can we stay on subject.”

“Right,” continued Evander. “We could break into the Hall of Records. Or kidnap the records keeper, toss him in a dungeon, and hope he gives up the passcode.”

This solicited a few chuckles from everyone around the table but Dawn.

“Or we could hack it,” said someone by the door. Olympia walked in; arms crossed.

“How long have you been out there?” asked Dawn.

“Long enough to get the gist,” Olympia replied. “Chances are Alderly's public firewalls aren't exactly state of the art.”

“Are you saying you could do it?” asked Dawn.

“No, she’s not,” said Evander, looking at Olympia in equal parts surprise and suspicion. “Remember how I said I went to Oxford for Economics?”

“Vaguely.”

“I minored in computer science.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” asked Dawn.

“No, he isn’t,” said Olympia. She didn’t seem at all happy about having spoken this idea out loud but if there was a chance they could get to the bottom of things this way then Dawn had to admit that it wasn’t entirely bad.

“If I can create a network interface that catches the traffic to the legitimate server, I can backdoor the access.”

Everyone looked at Evander like he’d just spoken a completely different language.

“An interfacing server-traffic-catcher,” he said. “Never heard of it?”

“Of course,” said Dawn, sarcastically. “So obvious.”

“Do you think you can crack this?” Tess asked Evander.

“Yes, but it's going take some time,” he said as Dawn handed his laptop to him. “Perhaps all night.”

“No problem,” said Pandora and then turned to Rocky. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

“Bachelor party?” asked Rocky.

“No,” said Dawn.

“I would appreciate it if you let me work in peace so by all means, go have your little party,” said Evander.

“I do not feel comfortable leaving him alone with this,” said Dawn. “He has my computer, after all.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” said Tess. Dawn squinted his eyes at her. He wasn’t sure why Tess was suddenly so nice about Evander.

“Alright, fine, but no partying” he said. At least he knew he could trust Tess.

~

Olympia led Dawn, Rocky, and Pandora upstairs.

“Alright,” said Olympia. “The coast is clear. Now.”

“Where exactly are we going?” asked Dawn.

The princess reached a door and tried the handle. It was locked, so she produced a key from her cardigan pocket. “Since we’re not throwing a party, we might as well do something fun.”

Olympia let them in. It was a standard palace bedroom and Dawn couldn’t immediately tell to whom it belonged.

“Olympia, whose room is this?” he asked and then noticed a framed photograph of Evander on one of the nightstands. Had they entered the lair of some secret Evander fan-club or did this man seriously have his own picture on his nightstand?

“Evie’s, of course,” said Olympia as innocently as she could muster.

Dawn walked over to the bed and picked up the picture frame. “I would’ve guessed his mother.”

Olympia chuckled and began to search around the room for something.

“What are we looking for?” asked Pandora.

“I happen to know that Evander has a collection of quality sheet masks somewhere in here,” Olympia explained, opening drawers and cabinets. “We’re going to… borrow a few.”

“Sheet masks?” asked Rocky, as if he hadn’t heard Olympia correctly.

“Yes!” the princess said. “It’ll be fun, trust me!”

Dawn got to looking and soon enough discovered a stash in one of the drawers of Evander’s closet. “Oh, wow, these are like… posh posh.”

“I know right,” said Olympia. “Everyone, take your pick.”

Pandora and Olympia chose masks for themselves, but Dawn was still stuck on the price tag.

“He had to sell his car but he’s still sticking to these…”

“Priorities,” muttered Pandora and examined her mask’s package.

“He does have a very soft-looking skin,” said Rocky, grabbing one for himself.

“That’s so true,” Pandora said.

“Is there anything else we could nick?” asked Dawn. He was definitely interested in mildly inconveniencing Evander in any way he could.

“I mean,” started Pandora. She looked around the room. “He’s basically poor, now, right?”

“He’s still a count,” said Olympia. “He might be exaggerating his struggles a little.”

“His car did truly suck, though.”

Rocky cleared his throat. “He is currently trying to help the country… Maybe. Just a friendly reminder.”

“Let’s just grab the masks and go,” suggested Pandora.

Olympia looked at Dawn. “Hmm, what do you think? Has Evie deserved our mercy?”

“Well, with a quick glance we didn’t find anything particularly evil…” Dawn said.

“Yeah, alright,” said Olympia. “Masks it is.”

“Actually,” said Dawn, still holding Evander’s picture. “I’m taking this. It’s a good Christmas present for Quincey.”

Olympia laughed. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“I’ll place it in our bedroom… His bedroom…? Do we have to sleep in separate bedrooms?”

“Not once you’re married,” said Olympia. “Propriety rules, and all.”

“In The Crown they have separate rooms,” said Rocky.

“They used to have those here too,” said Olympia. “And I’m sure you could get one if you wanted to.”

“Do you think he wants that…?” asked Dawn, carefully.

Olympia looked at him quizzically. “Quincey? I very much doubt it.”

Dawn shrugged. Quincey was always so busy that Dawn thought he might’ve even wanted some privacy.

“Let’s go, then,” said Olympia. They all filed out of the room, stolen masks in hand. Dawn felt a bit good about it, even though he was well aware of the good works Evander was currently performing.

~

They went to Dawn’s bridal suite and put the masks on. Olympia also insisted upon mani-pedis, so that’s what they did. She had some glühwein brought up and they passed a pleasant evening. Rocky was very much looking forward to waking up with the world’s softest skin the next morning and Dawn didn’t think about his wedding drama all that much. But this, much like a lot of things in Alderly, wasn’t the night Dawn would have planned for himself, and if it had been Jimmy, Maxim, Rocky, and him, the night would have gone very differently. Probably something along the lines of beer-pong. However, all things considered; it was still pretty fun.

~

Dawn was woken up way too early by someone calling his name.

“Mr. Harvelle. Mr. Harvelle!”

“Rosa, go away…”

“I am not Rosa,” said the distinct voice of Miss Pince. “Now, get up, get dressed, and follow me to my office.”

Dawn sat up. Pince’s face did not promise good news. She left the room so Dawn could get dressed in peace but was waiting right outside the door. When they arrived at the office, Quincey was already there, looking slightly dishevelled. Pince had probably woken him up, too.

“Quince?”

“Dawn, what are you doing here?”

“I have no idea,” admitted Dawn “You don't know?”

“Not a clue. Miss Pince asked me here…”

“Your Majesty, thank you for coming,” said Pince and took a seat.

“What can we do for you?” Quincey asked. Dawn was starting to feel like his actions from last night were going to come back to bite him in the arse.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” said Pince and opened her computer so Quincey and Dawn could see the article displayed on it. “But we have been hit by a rather severe public relations snafu. This is exactly what we don't want.”

It was a front-page article proclaiming: The Prince Consort goes barhopping! Complete with several pictures taken at The Three Broomsticks.

“That's Dawn's bachelor party,” said Quincey but then he stopped and looked at the pictures more closely. “Is that Evander?” His tone was more that of surprise than disapproval though. Still, Pince didn’t look happy.

Dawn cleared his throat, he had better tell the truth than let Quiney think Dawn had invited Evander to his party. “It wasn't a party, we were investigating.”

“Investigating?” asked Quincey.

“Investigating what?” Miss Pince echoed the king.

“The discrepancies in the royal finances.”

“Excuse me?” asked Pince.

“What?” said Quincey.

Pince took a deep breath and said, more to Quincey than to Dawn: “I'm afraid that Mr. Harvelle does not understand his role within the royal family.”

Dawn, pissed off that he was spoken of as if he was a child or not in the room, said: “Oh, no, I get it. I'm supposed to smile, and nod, and do as I'm told. I understand, I just... I don't agree.”

“Well, I suggest that you cease from any further investigation and any activity pertaining to your blog immediately.”

“No way,” said Dawn.

“Your Majesty?” Pince implored.

“I…” Quincey started. “Look, Dawn, I think Miss Pince might be right about this. The approval ratings for the royal family are in the gutter and I–,”

“Really, Quincey?”

He couldn’t even say that he was surprised by Quincey not taking his side and that was probably the most disappointing thing about the entire situation.

“Just for a while.”

Dawn got up from his seat. He’d had enough of this entire bloody farce. He was beginning to think that maybe he wasn’t really cut out for this role and that maybe he had fucked up when he agreed to it in the first place. He stormed out of the room and could hear Quincey calling after him and Pince saying: “Sir! Give him some space. Let him calm down. And meanwhile, The Queen Mother has sent some notes for tonight's speech…”

tag list: @lifeofkaze, @gcldensnitch, @endlessly-cursed, @cursed-herbalist, @magicallymalted

(ask if you want to be included or removed)

[louhomebear]

this is a prompt of chubby louis if you want any... maybe a confident louis before and he gained some weight and got a bit chunky and his 'friends' and family are constantly being rude and telling him to loose weight and he gets sad and very introverted which causes him to eat more?

all the love ❤️

-anon :)

Ok this isn’t edited !! 2.3k :) xx

“So what happened with that bloke Lou?” Niall screeched over the loud music. “What?” “That bloke! The one who was shagging you left right and centre! What happened with him?” Niall quirked his eyebrow. Louis giggled. “Oh! Hahaha, he ended it. But it’s fine lad! I was too hot for him anyway!” “Oh louis.” He rolled his eyes. “What I would do to have your confidence!” Louis giggled in response.

***

Louis stretched and squirmed in his bed, slowly opening his eyes. He hadn’t fallen asleep till 3am, munching on snacks and watching Frasier on his laptop.

Thinking about it, he had been munching a lot lately. Oh well, he had a nice body. It probably hadn’t effected him much. He’s always been petite and had never had to worry about weight fluctuations. Wiggling his toes, he got out of bed and plodded to the shower to get ready for work. He was going home next week and couldn’t wait to see his little sisters. His mum was another story, but he didn’t really want to burn a bridge with her and have it affect his relationship with his younger siblings.

Next week rolled around pretty fast. He was trying to pull on jeans he hadn’t worn since summer and felt his heart jolt as the jeans snagged at his thighs. He took in the large expanse of them and felt his tummy squirm. What the fuck! When had this happened?

Liam barged into the room. “Louis! Have you seen my jumper? You didn’t steal it again did you, you little shit.” He started to rummage through Louis' dirty washing pile before finding the soft sweater.

“Ah hah! I knew you had taken it.”

Louis raised his eyebrows at his friend and shrugged. “Aw bless, you’re getting a little tummy there Tommo. A Tommo Tummy! What a great name!” Liam pinched the new little pocket of pudge at Louis’ tummy, smiling fondly.

Louis burned bright red and batted his hand away. He looked down and noticed a slight curve of his tummy. Obviously he’d never had abs, but his belly used to be relatively flat, now it had a bump that jutted out slightly underneath his belly button.

“It’s not funny Payno, piss off. I can’t get my jeans on!”

Louis actually felt his face burn in embarrassment. He’d never had to experience this before and he knew his mum was a little fat phobic. He was panicking. Liam’s faced softened and he pulled his arms back. “Lou, it’s fine. You look adorable. I didn’t mean anything bad by it. Honestly, your new curves are so cute!” He slapped his hands down by his newly soft hips and puffed his cheeks out. “Liam! Help, I’m meant to be going home and look! I’m too fat for my jeans! What am I going to do!” He burrowed his head in his hands and let a tear trickle out. “Seriously Liam, my Mums going to make comments in front of everyone and it’s going to be so embarrassing.”

He let Liam pull him towards his bed and into a hug. “It’s okay Tommo! You’ve just got yourself a little belly and it’s cute, don’t worry about it. I’ve got jeans that will fit your waist, you’ll just need to roll them up at your ankles a little okay?” He nodded and wrapped his arms around his tummy. “Okay, I guess. I’ve never felt this way Liam! I don’t know like…I don’t know! It’s so foreign to me!” He whined. “it’s okay louis, I mean you’re just a little pudgy, you’re not like, fat.” Louis sneered. “Wow jeeze! Thanks Li. You really have a way with words you know.” He sniffed. “what! I’m just being honest. it’s not like it’s bad. You just have a little chub. I think it’s cute.”

louis rolled up to his parents house and braved himself for the inevitable. “Louis son! Good to see you! Oh wow, you’ve sure got comfortable. Getting a little double chin there!” Mark commented, wrapping his stepson in a hug. He caught Mark looking at his midsection but Louis sleeked out of the hug quickly, running into the living room.

His sisters squeezed him tight and they caught up with each others lives before their mum came sauntering in. “Louis dear! How are you! Oh dear look at that stomach! What have you done to yourself!”

“Mum!”

“What I’m just saying, you’ve gained quite a bit of weight! I got you some clothes for Christmas but they probably won’t fit you! My god Louis, look at that belly.”

She reached forward and patted his stomach where it was sticking out the most

So after that Louis became really insecure. And the thing was, he had never had to feel this before. He had always been so comfortable in his skin, eager to flaunt it to the point it was vaguely irritating for whoever was around him. And Louis wasn’t helping himself at all, it was as if all the comments made by his friends and family upset him enough that he actually began to binge a little more.

His mum had slapped his hand away when he reached for more cake at the table. He had been forced to go back home in February to celebrate his parents' anniversary.

“Louis, do you really think you need more?” She had said. “You need new jeans” she had tutted, pinching the small, thick roll of fat that had snuck out his jumper. He had glared at her and stuffed the cake into his mouth, just to annoy her. She had then muttered something about him turning into a right porker if he wasn’t careful.

Louis grew to not mind his heavier body, it was soft and squishy and he liked that he had more curves. But he was so embarrassed and ashamed for anyone else to see it, he knew it wasn’t attractive.

He had a slight double chin now and his thighs were large, rubbing together when he walked. His tummy had turned into a sort of double belly, the top part getting round and hard by the end of the day after he’d overstuffed himself, the lower part staying soft jiggly, almost sitting on his lap when he was sat down.

He was trying to get dressed for the lads night they were going to have, when he realised Liams jeans didn’t fit him at his waist anymore. He felt shame bubbling up in his belly, knowing this was self-inflicted. Maybe he could try and button them underneath his tummy? Yes, that seemed to work, but it meant that his belly was proudly on display and he needed to find an oversized jumper to cover it. Walking into Liam's room, he ruffled through his closet before finding a massive dark blue jumper.

“Alright Lou? Is that you stealing my clothes again!”

For fuck sake, Liam was back with all his mates, and a new one that Louis didn’t recognise.

“Liam! Shut the door!” He sneered. Too late. Niall and Zayn came sauntering in along with the new bloke, Harry.

Harry was very tall and broad, which was exactly what Louis liked in his men. He had long hair that rested just below his shoulders and gorgeous green eyes. He offered Louis a little wave.

“Hey Lou! Hey tommo tummy, you’ve grown again!” Zayn cooed, giving it a prod.

Louis glared at him and pushed his hands away. “Leave me alone.” He whined. He saw Harry smirking and he felt a crimson blush rise to the tips of his ears.

“Tommo tummy?” Harry asked.

“It’s what we’ve named Lous belly, it’s so cute hahaha.” Niall laughed, patting it.

“Will you all stop touching me chub and let me get dressed! I need to find something that will actually cover this.” He gestured towards his stomach.

It was probably pretty obvious how self conscious he felt as he wrapped his arms around himself and backed into the wardrobe, pretending to search for something to wear. Liam ruffled his hair and beckoned them all out.

“You look great, Louis.” Harry said, giving him a hard stare. Louis blushed again and smiled in thanks, leaving Harry to let himself out.

Louis emerged a few minutes later in one of Liam's oversized jumpers, which drowned him.

They were munching on Chinese and watching the footie when Zayn picked up the teasing again.

“So when are you going to stop stealing Liams clothes and get your own, even his jeans aren’t fitting you now!” Zayn gently grabbed his lower roll and gave it a shake, everyone in the room burst out laughing aside from Harry, who was frowning.

Louis had had enough and felt tears well up in his eyes, he slammed down the Tupperware box of fried rice and stormed into his room. Sitting down on his bed he let the tears cascade down his round cheeks not bothering to wipe them away. A soft knock was heard on the door and Louis allowed them to enter. It was Harry.

He sat down beside Louis and pulled him into his side, he could feel his chubby hips and belly squish into the hard planes of Harry’s abdomen.

“Shhhh it’s okay Louis. Don’t cry.” Harry offered and Louis looked up at him with the best smile he could muster up.

“Sorry Harry, I don’t mind a little gentle teasing but my Mum insults me enough and sometimes when the lads do it doesn’t always feel funny.” He sniffed.

Harry’s hard expression softened a little more and he nodded. “I don’t obviously understand how it feels but we’ve all been a little bullied and I remember people making fun of my greasy hair eventually got tiresome. For what it’s worth, I really like your body.”

Louis’ furrowed his brows in confusion. “You can’t possibly think I’m good looking Harry. You don’t need to pretend, I get it.”

Harry shook his head, his curls flaying about a little. “I like chubbier men. I like a little meat to hold onto. Your body is actually perfect, Louis.”

Wide eyed, he continued to look up at Harry, feeling his tummy squirm. He liked the way Harry didn’t pretend he wasn’t overweight and he didn’t dance around the subject either, he just views Louis’ playful pudge in an entirely different way. “Really?” He asked.

Harry smiled, “really. I like a man who can eat.”

The lads crowded into Louis' room with guilty faces and sad eyes.

“Lou we’re sorry, you usually just giggle when we tease you but we get it’s gone too far. We’ll stop.” Liam said.

“It’s okay, I’ve gained a lot of weight and I know it can be funny but I get enough bashing from my mum and sometimes it doesn’t feel so jokey.” He said quietly.

They all coddled around him, kissing his cheeks and ruffling his hair.

“We love how cuddly you feel now Loulou, you’re stunning!” Zayn said.

“Yeah Lou! You were always gorgeous but I mean it when I say the extra weight really suits you, you’re so cute love.” Liam offers, squeezing his friend a little tighter.

** “Want a cuppa Lou?” Harry asked.

Louis had started to hang around Harry a lot more, growing quite close. They were constantly flirting and touching each other, Harry was never feeling content unless he knew the boy was well fed and warm, he had taken to looking after him realising that Louis didn’t do the best job of it himself.

Since then Louis had put on a few more pounds, but that was okay, Harry assured him it was. And when his mum came to the flat while him and the boys were having dinner, she scolded him for having more food than the rest of them.

“Louis, why have you got double the amount of casserole that Liam and your friends have?” She hissed with a hand on Louis’ shoulder.

“Because he’s hungry.” Liam jumped to his defence.

Mrs Tomlinson stood back baffled at Liam, the boy had always been nothing but polite to her.

“He certainly doesn’t need it, look at his belly and god Louis, your thighs look like slabs of meat, at least have the decency to wear some joggers. Those shorts look positively ridiculous on you.”

Harry stood up abruptly. “Mrs Tomlinson, what is your problem? Your son is nothing short of perfect. He has a degree, a house, a life - he’s flown the nest perfectly if you will. Just because he’s overweight now, doesn’t equal failure or a free pass to belittle him. He’s perfect. And if you are concerned about his health then speak to him about it in a proper manner. Do not come in here to simply humiliate him.” Harry’s brows were furrowed and he had clear indications of frustration and sadness etched into his features.

“And who exactly are you?” She sneered.

“I’m Harry. I’m his other half, if you will, Mrs Tomlinson.”

“Very well, Harry. Stand up Louis.”

Louis sat routed to his chair, gobsmacked.

“You don’t have to, lou.” Zayn said.

“I said, stand up.”

Louis stood up and let his mothers eyes rake over his imperfect body.

“I will be sending you a gym membership. And I expect to see results. I can’t have someone like you in my family.”

“Leave. Now.” Harry’s eyes were stone cold.

Louis' mother did a 180 degree turn and slammed the door.

His friends all huddled around him but he let Harry pull him into his lap, cradling him like a baby,

“I’m okay guys.” He sniffed, wiping his eyes.

And Louis was okay. He was overweight and he was happy. Anyone who says you can’t be fat and happy, obviously hasn’t tried it.

Louis finished the rest of his dinner.

[beantothemax]

It’s late at night when he hears Aki stirring.

Shinjiro is already awake, seemingly cursed to forever have a terrible sleep schedule from all his nights on the streets.

Aki gets up and fumbles with something for a moment before Shinjiro finally sits up.

“You’re up late,” he mumbles, and Aki jumps, turning around. His grey eyes meet Shinji’s, kind and adoring as ever, and his gaze shifts from shock and surprise to loving concern.

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” He asks, and Shinjiro is quick to shake his head. Ever since the incident back in October of ‘09, he’s been determined to keep Aki from ever blaming himself for things that weren’t his fault. Even down to simple things like Shinji being awake at 2 o’clock in the morning.

“What are you doin’ up...?” Shinjiro asks sluggishly. Cursed to forever be awake, doomed to forever feel exhausted. Without Aki there, anyways.

Aki smiles fondly, the corners of his mouth curving up softly, the lids of his eyes dropping slightly. Little things that make up the big picture, Shinji had said once. Little details about Akihiko Sanada that remind Shinji how hopelessly in love with him he is.

“Couldn’t sleep. I was gonna go for a walk,” Aki murmurs, and Shinji hauls himself out of bed, wincing slightly when he feels the twinge of an old wound.

Aki watches him rise to his feet, watches him grab his jacket, light and maroon coloured, a gift from Fuuka, from their closet. “Mind some company?” He asks, and Aki smiles again, reaching to entwine their fingers.

“No, I don’t mind at all,” Aki murmurs, and Shinji presses a kiss to his lips, soft and reassuring. A reminder.

Long ago, they would have brawled until they tuckered themselves out, disappearing into the covers of their beds until morning when they had to face each other in new light, injuries from the night before thrown into detail in the sun.

But now they used soft words, gentle touches. Aki used to punch to convey how he felt, used his fists to show his meaning. Now here he was using those same hands to caress the back of Shinji’s knuckles, scarred from their brawls and others.

Shinji had never been good with words, and he sure as hell wasn’t good with emotions. But he knew for sure that he liked it when Aki’s touches were gentle.

The stars outside twinkle like a thousand diamonds, all of them reflected in Aki’s pearly hair.

Shinji can’t help but stare at his husband. So many years spent dancing around the truth- and it had taken a bullet for them both to realise.

Shinji doesn’t mind, though. That bullet had led to good things. It had led to the defeat of Nyx, the survival of the world. It had led to Ken’s adoption, and later Goro’s. It led to them being married, with Kotone being Shinji’s hyperactive maid of honour and Makoto being Aki’s smiley best man. (Seriously, Shinji doubts to this day that Makoto had smiled as much the whole time he had been in SEES as he did on their wedding day.)

Now here they are, sitting together on the curb by the bookstore, hands still intertwined and eyes up at the sky.

“...There’s Castor and Pollux. Gemini,” Aki murmurs, pointing up at a cluster of stars.

“...And now we have Hephaestus and Caesar. Kinda funny how our Personas now are completely different, huh?” Shinji nudges Aki with his elbow, smiling. Long ago, this would have turned into a fight. But Aki just grins, rests his head on Shinji’s shoulder.

“Even if our Personas are different, something tells me we’ll always be connected. Think we’re like this in every universe, Shinji?”

Shinji wraps his arm around Aki, drinking in the cool summer breeze that he once thought he’d never feel again.

“Maybe. Maybe we’ll always be connected, in this life and the next. Maybe in every universe, there’s a way we’re connected.”

Aki looks at him with those loving grey eyes, and Shinji wonders how he never realised sooner how hopelessly in love he was with this man.

“I hope I love you in every universe.”

ACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! both of them thinking about their personas and how they’ve changed!!!!!!!! aki changing!!!!! shinji changing!!!!!!!! the unending progress of the world they live in!!!!!! dissolving!!!!!!!!!

[snickerdoodlles]

typing up character sheets for my minor kinnporsche faves/OCs, and currently i have:

cash

the in-house accountant

yes, he’s aware his name means money. you’re not that funny, and he promises he’s already heard whatever joke you’re about to say

(his mother believed in being very direct and upfront with Fate about her expectations for her son, and unfortunately he’s useless at anything but figures)

became an accountant for the mafia partially so he could threaten people with a gun after one (1) too many jokes about his name

he’s never owned a gun. accountants aren’t allowed to keep guns in the mansion. this is the universe laughing at him for his hubris, he’d like it to stop now please

he makes his debut when kinn goes to order thirty new fish for tankhun (as an apology for his crush being a total walnut). he makes the mistake of crying over how the cost of this purchase is 3x his annual salary, then goes thru the very stressful process of begging kinn not to give him a raise. his life is a fucking trial

vegas’s muder-sex dungeon cleaners/maintainers

there’s two of them. absolutely no one knows their names, just the way they like it

as gross as the clean up is, they prefer that job to stocking. they are utmost professionals on and off the job and don’t judge, but sourcing half this shit is a trial. seriously, bubble gum flavored lube? do people even sell that still? please stop desecrating these top of the line hand wrenches sir, the hardware stores are starting to know them by face. they still haven’t found the right leather sex swing for mr. vegas and they’re running out of stores to shop in, he’s not really expecting them to custom make it, right? right?

the monk

u know which monk

personally i like to think he originally started this whole thing as a con (u know those people that charge money for free parking? like that). some dumb tourist handed him free food and money one day in mistake and he went “o heck, this could be a gig” but then he legitimately became a part of the temple

basically: came for the free food, stayed for the spiritual awakening

ultimate fake it til you make it icon

a much beloved part of the community. he’s especially in demand for baby blessings

maybe a little too quick to pass out those blessed dildos

Kim’s ex-bodyguard

when kim first moved out, there were some...ahem, disagreements between him and korn about how much protection he still needed, and kim took it out on the bodyguards assigned to him

this guy went “hahaha no” after a day of that and quit. except there was a mix up in the paperwork which resulted in him being taken off the guard rosters, but he’s still on the payroll accounts and this guy just...went with it

absolute madlad and world’s ballsiest gambler

the way he sees it, this is still safer than finding true bodyguard employment and he can just ride it out. if kim finds out, there’s an 83% chance he’ll just use this to get rid of more bodyguards. if the payroll accountant finds out, it’s 50/50 on whether the mistake is quietly fixed or made an example of. if chan finds out, 99.8% chance he’ll get a bullet to the head, but at least it’ll be quick

he likes pressing flowers

a select handful of deutsche bank employees who happen to work in a certain set of offices

their contact is cash. he’s been ignoring their calls for years, but when they called to complain about the sex pool shenanigans, he made the mistake of being sympathetic and now he can’t get rid of them

one monday night call: “i have a bullet hole in my office right now and im blaming you” / “we’re not even one of your clients!” / “which is exactly why i can complain to you” / “ugh”

kinn’s cleaning staff

THE TRUE MVPS OF THE SHOW U KNOW IM RIGHT

there’s five of them, each one of them armed with a cleaning weapon tool of choice. i’m still picking out names for them, but vegas would take notes if he ever saw meen and her broom in action

threatens the kitchens any time they try to make a meal with high stain potential. the bodyguards might think they’re hot shit, but they have nothing on these guys. the only fruits kinn’s had in years are bananas and boys and it’s all because of them

are not utmost professionals on and off the job. they have a secret groupchat that’s passcode protected with three kill switches jic where they complain about the kinky shit kinn gets up to. kinn’s tailor has wanted to be a part of it for years, but no outsiders allowed

all of them meet up for coffee at least once a month, but no more than twice

honorary mention to arm, who would be a part of this group if he had less of a role. he’s the most absolute unit of a bodyguard and apparently the only IT guy in the theerapanyakul‘s employ and i love him. chan is the only other one who seems to know how to operate an ipad, but he outsources that kind of thing

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

what happened the first time Wes tried to crack open the Danny is Phantom conspiracy did he like, confront Danny first or was it all behind his back like, maybe hoping ground zero would be lost among the gossip and that Danny wouldn't find out who spilled the beans once everyone knew

I mean it obviously wouldn't work because nobody believed him and the gossip didn't take off very far beyond a few people talking about Wes being kinda weird

I should absolutely write a fic about this.

I am absolutely going to write a fic about this.

I AM RIGHT NOW GOING TO WRITE A FIC ABOUT THIS.

----

"Hey Fenton! Fenton!!" Dash came bounding over and threw a meaty arm around his shoulder.

"Jesus Dash! What?!" Danny buckled under the weight (pretended to anyway) as Dash gave him a surprisingly lighthearted punch on the arm.

"You haven't heard?! Wes has this total batshit insane theory, it's hilarious!"

Dash was in a genuine giggle-fit, Danny didn't think he'd ever seen him this merry, he was also starting to suspect he was going to leave this conversation being the butt of the joke somehow. Wait-

"Wes? Who the heck is Wes?" Danny asked, it wasn't like he knew everyone in school, like Dash seemed to.

"He's on the basketball team, you know, tall guy, red hair, threw a sick move at least month's game! You know, WES!"

"I didn't watch that game."

"Oh," said Dash, flatly, "Oh yeah, almost forgot you're a total nerd. Anyway, like I was saying!"

Dash grabbed Danny by the shoulders and nearly lifted him off the floor.

"Wes thinks," he could barely speak through his giggling, he even snorted a few times, "Wes thinks your secretly PHANTOM."

Dash dropped Danny back down as he doubled over laughing.

"Could you imagine?! You! You're not even DEAD!" Dash honest to god slapped his knee in mirth.

Danny went through an incredibly swift array of emotions in the span of about five seconds.

The first was fear, clear and bracing, then came confusion, how did he know? Had he seen something? Then there was hope, Dash didn't believe it, and if DASH didn't believe it, maybe nobody else believed it either. Then relief, he could roll with this, he could TOTALLY roll with this! Dash was right! It was absurd, it was ridiculous, it was hilarious, him being Phantom? What utter nonsense!

Sam and Tucker had been standing by his side at a Dash-safe distance, looking absolutely horrified. Sam looked ready to jump in and lay down a swift defence, but Danny gave a quick little low wave for her to stand down. He got this.

"Oh my god SERIOUSLY?" Danny busted out a slightly hysterical laugh, okay so he wasn't completely over the initial terrified anxiety.

"How could I- I mean what- WHY does he think I'M Phantom?! I mean how does that even work I don't-"

Dash clapped him on the shoulder, this was probably the most contact he'd ever had with him without being physically assaulted.

"I know right?! Like apparently he thinks you look alike? And he's all like 'But I've seen his eyes glow green' and 'they're never in the same roo-hoo-hoom." Dash wheezed and started hacking and coughing.

Danny carefully constructed a look of offence.

"Hey I mean, it's not THAT funny. Why couldn't I be Phantom! I know how to use a Fenton Thermos! Look I even HAVE one right-" he torn open his backpack and pulled one out, making sure to fumble it in a terrific display of fuck-uppery and drop it noisily on the cafeteria floor, he dropped to his knees trying to grab it but knocked it under a table.

A few girls standing nearby who'd been listening in started tittering, one of the guys sitting at the table snorted milk through his nose and Dash was just about on the floor in hysterics.

Even Sam and Tucker covered their mouths in an attempt to look like they were holding in laughter. Tucker muttered to Sam, just loud enough for people around to hear.

"I mean, he's our friend and we love him, but god that was painful to watch. He knows he's terrible at ghost hunting! He's got like, nothing but thumbs."

Danny climbed under the table, grabbed at the thermos and lifted it up as he crawled back out.

"See! See! I have a thermos! I could TOTALLY be Phantom!"

Sam walked over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It's okay bud, I think you'd be a great Phantom." her voice was thick with her usual sarcasm, soaked in pity though it were.

Danny's ears burned in embarrassment, he might have been humiliating himself on purpose, but it was still humiliating, watching everyone laugh at him for being so weak and incompetent. He was grateful to his friends for pushing through their discomfort and keeping up the act, it was still painful, but it came with a wash of pure unadulterated relief.

Nobody believed this Wes guy, nobody thought it could be even remotely possible. People would talk about it for a little while, have a laugh, maybe there would be a few memes and in-jokes, but eventually it would drop off. People would forget all about it and it would be just another notch on the gossip mill belt.

Even if someone DID believe it, they could never admit it for fear of vicious ridicule, for once in his life peer pressure was his friend.

And then Wes walked in.

Once Danny saw him he realised that he did recognise Wes, he'd seen him hanging around Kwan a few times, and chatting with Star, he was also in Danny's english class. That was about as familiar as he got with the guy, they'd never spoken a word to each other.

Wes had a terrifying expression of seething fury ripping across his face. He was glaring at Dash.

"It's NOT. FUNNY."

Dash was completely unable to stand, it was honestly overkill, Danny almost thought he was hamming it up on purpose, but maybe not, his face was turning an alarming shade of red after all.

"Wes don-" Dash gasped. "Don't do this to me man, I can't brea-" Dash was gasping for air, trying desperately to hold down the giggles.

Danny could almost see steam rising as Wes seethed. Then suddenly that furious stare was shooting daggers straight at him. Danny shrank into himself, looking as small and helpless as he possibly could.

"Uh hey Wes, um, I've heard the news." he joked tacking on a nervous laugh for emphasis. "Uh, soooo," he tossed the thermos from hand to hand, nearly dropping it again. "Is this like, just a joke or do you really-?"

Dash continued to wheeze, Kwan was holding him up by the arm, muttering about getting some water to cool off.

Wes strode over until he and Danny were face to face, he was taller by a good couple inches, even more so with Danny making a conscious effort to appear small.

Wes jabbed a sharp finger into his collarbone.

"Don't think I'm fooled by this pathetic act you've got going on, I am ONTO you, Phantom." he spat.

Danny glanced sidelong at the table beside him, silently begging for assistance, they only watched in silence, strained faces trying not to laugh. A glance the other way to his friends, they simply shrugged.

"Um, okaaay," Danny started backing away slowly. "Uh look Wes I am honestly really flattered but, do we really look that alike?" Danny ran a hand through his hair and then pointed up at Wes. "I mean we BOTH kinda have Phantom's haircut."

Sam deadpanned from the sidelines, "Maybe they're BOTH Phantom."

"We should start marketing that haircut." Tucker muttered to himself, tapping something on his tablet. "We could make a fortune, are you any good at hairdressing?"

Sam shot him a look of disgust and did not dignify the question with a response.

"Don't play dumb you two," said Wes, flipping his focus, "You're definitely in on this!"

The entire cafeteria was awash with giggles by this point. Just about everyone had heard about Wes' theory, but were mostly convinced it was some kinda joke. Now? Now they knew Wes was straight up fucking delusional.

He glanced around as people laughed, at him. At HIM.

"It's not funny!" he yelled over the crowed, the tittering increased in volume. Someone across the room yelled-

"Hey if I get the haircut, can I be Phantom too?"

One of the goths stood up on her seat.

"I've GOT the haircut! Mom says it's MY TURN to be the Phantom!"

There was a fresh round of mirthful laughter, some kids wheezing as hard as Dash had been. Another few kids piped up above the cacophony, throwing jokes of their own.

"I've got a soup thermos so I'm Phantom now, sorry sweaty I don't make the rules."

"If I wear a Phantom shirt does that make me Phantom ALL the time or am I only Phantom when I'm wearing it?"

"I have an ass, Phantom has an ass. Conclusion: I am Phantom's ass."

"Tag yourself I'm the thermos."

"DO THE BUTTS MATCH?"

Wes had been trying to scream over the din, infuriated, desperate to find SOMEONE who would listen.

Danny gave him a pat on the back.

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, The Guys in White once hunted some guy down because he had white hair, if a government agency can fuck that up then-"

Wes slugged him.

It wasn't a particularly solid punch like Dash's hits, it was quick and precise, Was wasn't a brawny guy, but he was lean and fast and had good aim.

Danny whuffed out a heavy breath as Wes' fist collided with his sternum and he collapsed to the floor.

Everyone in the cafeteria lost their shit, a few people screamed and one table of football jocks all stood up chanting, "FIGHT. FIGHT. FIGHT. FIGHT."

Tucker ran over to him as Sam stepped up and without hesitation slammed a fist straight into Wes' nose.

The footballers lost their minds, one of the goths stood up on their table screaming "REPRESEEENT!!"

Wes backed up immediately, crying out from the sharp pain blossoming across his face, he'd never been hit before and couldn't pull his thoughts together quick enough to throw a punch back at her, so he was taken by surprise once again as Sam placed a solid roundhouse kick to his stomach.

He had certainly not been expecting that kind of brute strength from her, she had incapacitated him swiftly and effectively, barely having broken a sweat.

One of his teammates hollered over the crowd and came barrelling down on the goth, she dodged without batting an eye and darted nimbly out of the way, giving the guy a quick kick in the pants to throw him off balance as she rocketed for the cafeteria door.

As Wes took a deep breath through his mouth, his nose dripping blood, he realised that Danny and Tucker were gone. The fight had lasted only seconds but Sam had run distraction well enough for the boys to take off without anyone noticing, a glance around showed Tucker supporting Danny about to exit through the cafeteria doors.

The doors opened to an out of breath Mr Lancer on the other side.

"'The Light Fantastic!' WHAT is going on here?!"

Oh they were all so fucked.

[books-and-catears]

Just You

- Solomon X Gn!MC

(Warning: Fluffy NSFW. Don't read little babies.)

He'd learnt another new spell. That's what he told you on the phone. An indirect request to meet him right away. Eversince you two started sitting together in Applied Magic classes - you are the first person he shows new things to.

"He's a 1000 year old sorceror-" You sigh as you walk out the door, "how can there possibly be any more magic he's left to learn?" Only he can answer that.

You walk into the Purgatory Hall past Simeon and Luke's room. Solomon's was right next to theirs. The door was ajar so you walked in.

"Solomon? I'm here!" You call out in the dark. His room looked like a cross between Satan's room and the Potions lab. But thankfully it smelt far more pleasant because Simeon and you convinced him to get scented candles.

"Hello MC..." A voice spoke up from behind, rightfully startling you. But that didn't sound like Solomon. Why did it sound like...

"Satan?" You turn around him and see him standing there, smiling cheekily. Did Satan always smile that? No. Something feels out of place.

"Yes it's me. Are you wondering where Solomon went too? He called me here. Told me he'd learnt a couple of new spells." Satan said.

"That's funny. Last time I saw you, you were in the park with the kittens. It was your turn to look after them. And you never come back till your turn is over." You said, inching closer to him .

"Oh is that so? Then I suppose I should have played my prank better." Satan's voice warped into Solomon, as did the clothes and body.

"Shapeshifting?! That's so cool!" You almost jump in excitement. "Oh the amount of chaos we can cause with this!"

"Indeed. We can play pranks and put the blame on others, give exams as someone else and we can even kiss someone we like even if they're taken." Solomon inched closer to you.

"Well the last one is not really advisable but-" You saw he'd morphed into Satan again, his face dangerously close to yours. "What are you doing Solomon?"

"If I pretend to be Satan, won't you give me a kiss?" He locked his lips with yours. You'd parted them in shock but now his lips had invaded the space. But they weren't even his lips...

"Solomon wait!" You pull away and hold him back. He looks at you sheepishly. "Oh that's probably not how he kisses you right? Don't worry I'll get better at it."

"No that's not it. Why pretend to be someone else? And why Satan? What kind of relationship do you think we have?" You ask. He turns back into himself.

"Well I know you love someone." He said matter of factly. "And that someone is here. You also happen to love cats and books and mysterious people with lots of knowledge to give - you told me that the first night you got drunk. So naturally it's Satan."

You burst out laughing. "Look at Sherlock over here! You couldn't be more wrong!"

The usually confident Solomon, looks puzzled at this point. "Not him? The only other cat loving people I think of are Mammon and Diavolo. And none of them really scream 'mysterious' to me."

"That's because I don't like them either tsk tsk." You say, shaking your head. Oh this dumb wizard.

"Well who is it then?" He asks, impatiently.

"I won't say. Can you seriously not think of anyone else?" You were having fun at this point. Looking at that frazzled expression on his face, you wished you brought your camera.

"Well it will hardly take any time to find out using the new potion I learnt." He reached out for what looked like a light blue perfume and sprinkled it on itself.

"Color changing blueberries, lustful violets and truth serum." He said inching closer again, taking your hand. "One touch from you will turn me into the person you like most."

You both stare each other for the next five seconds waiting for something to happen.

"Why isnt it working now? I tried it on others. It worked just fine." Solomon said, squeezing your hand before placing it on his shoulder.

You shake your head. "Well maybe it worked and you're too dumb to know it. Jeez I thought you were smart." You mutter to yourself.

Solomon stared at you wide-eyed. "I- you meant me? Cats, books and- oh. Now I see it." He smirks and bumps his head against you, teasingly. "Is that why you waited till after the kiss to push me away?"

"Ugh. Come here. Let me the kiss real you first." You say, exasperated. You pull him towards you, cupping his face and threading your fingers through his silvery hair. This felt right.

His arms wrap around you tightly, holding you in place. You bite his lip playfully, he lets out a guttural growl and bites yours harder, pushing his knee between your legs.

"Now that's...much better." You say, pulling away panting for breath. "Also never do that again. Don't ever pretend to be anyone else for...kissing purposes or things like that. You deserve to be loved as who you are. Not because you look or sound like someone else."

"What's a wizard to do? When he finally falls in love after years with someone who loves somebody else?" He said, kissing your fingers that were on his cheek. "I got desperate. I just wanted to taste you once. Just.. one kiss."

"Just one kiss? All you needed to do was ask!" You huffed and pouted before pecking at his lips again.

"Well now you've gone and made me desperate for ...more." He whispered in your ear. You could hear him smirk. It sent shivers down your spine in the best way possible.

His hand snaked up your shirt, pressing against your waist and chest. You let out an involuntary moan. You grab his shoulders and shake your head, horrified.

"We have LITERAL ANGELS next door! I'll be too loud! We can't do this here!" You say trying to get away, but he pulls you back and drags you to the bed instead.

"Oh I am hoping you'll be loud. Cause the angels are going to be with Diavolo the next six hours." He said, pulling his shirt off, and trapping you within his arms.

"You planned this whole thing? What did you even have in mind?!" You ask in disbelief, holding him close.

"Well I thought maybe.. if I can make you get carried away as Satan then maybe..." Solomon said sheepishly, pressing kisses onto your shoulders as he stripped you off your top.

"I love you as just you, Solomon." You nip into his neck as a punishment. He only smiles and almost purrs in reply, his hands exploring your body eagerly.

"And for that... I shall do my best to you show you my gratitude." He said, unbuttoning your pants and slipping his hands inside. You let out another moan. "Yes MC, I love you too."

[robininthelabyrinth]

3. I have no idea if this time line would work, but MYX and XY get attached to each other, so when the time comes that MYX and XY need to leave Koi Tower, JGY helps them get married in secret and run away to Dongu. Anyways, a few years latter, JGY has a kid that needs to go and people in a removed location that owe him favors! Isn’t that a wonderful combination! A Jin(?) Rusong raised by Uncles Mo and Xue, or whatever they go by these days, would be very chaotic. Bonus: they start a relatively safe demonic cultivation sect, maybe with some guidance from the Nie (has NMJ never been killed by the Jin in this Au?), or more specifically, Huaisang. SL and XXC who got a happy ending decide to check out this no blood line sect (it looks slightly dubious, but surely can’t be to bad! Right?) A-Qing at least is enjoying her new friend -🟪🦋

Should Have Been Listening - ao3

“Let go of me.”

“I won’t,” Mo Xuanyu said, clutching Xue Yang’s arm. “I won’t, I won’t! You’re my only friend here!”

Xue Yang looked down at him in what he thought was mostly exasperation, but might have also been a little fondness – after all, if it’d been anyone else who’d grabbed him, he’d have stabbed them.

He still didn’t know why he didn’t stab Mo Xuanyu, too, but in all honesty, he wasn’t that interested in exploring it. He did what he wanted, and right now, he didn’t want to murder Mo Xuanyu.

Irritating as he sometimes was.

“Little brat,” he said. “I have important business to go do.”

“It’s not something that he ordered, though!”

“So what?” Xue Yang bristled. “I don’t just do what hetells me!”

“But that means he won’t cover for you, and that means you’ll get in trouble!” Mo Xuanyu argued. “How can I let you go all alone to get in trouble? You have to take me with you! What will you do without me? Who’ll keep you entertained and sneak sweets for you if not for me?”

Xue Yang’s lips twitched. Okay, maybe there was a reason he kept the brat around.

“You don’t understand,” he said. “This is something I’ve got to do – something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. I’m going to kill a lot of people and get into a lot of trouble, more trouble than ever before. I’ll probably lose my life. How can I possibly take you with me?”

Mo Xuanyu scowled up at him. It was a very weak scowl – barely more than a pout. “You think that’s going to make me not want to come with you?”

Xue Yang’s eyebrows went up. “You cry at the sight of blood!”

“I cry at a lot of things!”

Xue Yang wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was true, Mo Xuanyu cried at a lot of things.

“Maybe if I come with you, it won’t be so bad!”

Yeeeeah, Xue Yang wasn’t going to count on that.

“Or maybe you don’t have to go…?”

“I have to go,” he explained. “If I don’t go, I can’t get revenge, and I have to have revenge.”

Mo Xuanyu blinked up at him.

“I don’t really understand, but okay,” he said, and tugged on his arm. “Let’s go together, then. I promise I won’t cry!”

-

He cried.

He cried a lot.

-

“Stop fucking crying.”

-

“Just – ugh. Listen. You’re ruining the mood.”

-

“If you can’t stop crying, go away. Now. Or I’ll stab you!”

-

“Okay, see, look, I just killed the leaders, see? Just the old men. Everyone else is just locked in their rooms. Once the sect leader comes back, I’ll kill him too, and that’ll be all. Okay? Everyone else lives. I promise. Now stop crying, okay?”

-

“I don’t want to know,” Jin Guangyao said when they got back. “I don’t want to know at all.”

“Good,” Xue Yang grumbled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Enough people heard about the reason for what you did that opinions are mixed as to whether your actions were the Chang clan’s just rewards for their former misdeeds or if they were actually wrong,” Jin Guangyao said. He looked irritated. “But you still killed high-ranking members of a sect, and you left enough alive that they’re demanding your head on a platter. You’re going to need to run away.”

Mo Xuanyu hesitantly gestured as if he wished to speak.

“Yes, you can go with him. Now that my father is dead, no one cares where you are.”

Mo Xuanyu beamed.

“You’re just going to let us go?” Xue Yang asked suspiciously. “That seems unlike you. What’s in it for you?”

“Oh, I’m not just going to let you go. I’m going to give you money, too,” Jin Guangyao said. “And all you need to do for me is one little tiny favor –”

Pity that that was when Xue Yang stopped listening, too busy staring at Mo Xuanyu’s delighted face and counting all the way he was in for it now.

-

“I’ve always wanted to take care of a baby,” Mo Xuanyu said happily.

“Good for you,” Xue Yang said darkly as he stalked through the streets.

He would rather that Jin Guangyao had needed a body buried and a death covered up or something – and judging by the baby’s perturbed expression, it probably agreed with him. Fuck, maybe Jin Guangyao had meant for them to murder the baby once they got it far enough out of the way. It was just as plausible as Mo Xuanyu's assumption that they were supposed to take care of it.

Damnit, maybe he should have been listening.

“Listen, neither of us are equipped to handle a baby. Go find a woman to help us – someone poor and helpless who doesn’t have any other choice.”

“Okay!”

-

Xue Yang shut his eyes. “What exactly,” he said slowly, “did you think I asked you to get us a woman for, exactly?”

“To…watch the baby?” Mo Xuanyu guessed. “When we’re busy or sleeping? Anyway, what’s wrong with A-Qing, anyway? She’s nice!”

“I’m not nice,” A-Qing said. The damn brat was smirking – and for once it wasn’t his damn brat, but some blind brat with a cocky expression. “I stole your wallet and you burst into tears and it was really embarrassing.”

“He does that,” Xue Yang said wearily. At least he’d noticed the theft this time – all of his lessons in ‘how not to be a sucker and get constantly taken advantage of’ were maybe having something of an impact. Maybe. “For some reason I’m apparently into it.”

He couldn’t explain it any other way.

“…loser.”

“I will stab you,” Xue Yang threatened. “I don’t care if you’re blind.”

“Won’t someone tell me why A-Qing isn’t a perfectly good babysitter?” Mo Xuanyu demanded. He was holding the baby in his arms again – the baby liked him more than it did Xue Yang, which meant that between Mo Xuanyu and the baby, the baby had better self-preservation instincts – and he was trying his best stern scowl which was of course barely more than a pout and a so-called ‘fierce’ expression that made Xue Yang want to laugh.

Not even Mo Xuanyu’s horrific make-up skills could make thatface intimidating. Or maybe it was just that the person behind the face was just so completely unthreatening that there was no help for it?

“Well? Tell me!”

Xue Yan opened his mouth, then shrugged and shut it again.

A-Qing patted Mo Xuanyu on the shoulder. “I’m too young. No milk.”

“…milk?”

“You know. The thing babies eat?”

“…milk,” Mo Xuanyu repeated, only now he looked absolutely heartbroken at having failed the mission that Xue Yang had assigned him almost entirely just to get him out of the way while Xue Yang collected some spare cash and threatened their way onto a ride out of this piece of shit town.

“It’s fine,” Xue Yang said hastily. “We’ll just get a goat or something, I don’t know.”

“Okay, I actually only came here to laugh at you,” A-Qing said. “But now I’m legitimately worried about this baby. Don’t you two know anything? How’d you even get a baby, anyway?”

-

“Stop laughing. It’s not that funny.”

-

“Seriously. Stop laughing, or I stab you.”

“Don’t worry, A-Qing,” Mo Xuanyu said. “He doesn’t mean it! Threats are just how he expresses affection!”

“It most certainly is not.”

“That is absolutely amazing,” A-Qing said, wiping her eyes. “Best thing I’ve ever heard., if by best I mean worse-but-hilarious. I mean. If that’s what he considers affection, what must his flirting be like?”

“No one is flirting with anyone!”

-

“Are you going to leave at some point?”

“Obviously not,” A-Qing said. She’d caught the same ride as them, using Xue Yang’s cash no less – Mo Xuanyu had insisted that it was the least they could do after the whole milk misunderstanding, which was stupid, she ought to be paying them for wasting their time. Xue Yang couldn’t wait to get rid of her, although he had to admit that she’d been pretty useful in terms of putting on the ‘poor sad blind girl and her two brothers all alone in the world’ act to get them a room at the inn at prices even Xue Yang felt comfortable paying. “Are you joking? This is so much funnier than walking by myself. Anyway, I enjoy watching people crash and burn.”

“Aren’t you too young to be such a bitch?” Xue Yang hissed. “And, I don’t know, blind?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t care what you –”

The sound of crying came from the other room.

It was quickly followed by a second set of crying.

Xue Yang felt the onset of a headache.

“…truce?” A-Qing suggested sweetly, as if she knew exactly how much it pissed him off and thought it was the funniest thing ever, which was…probably accurate, actually. “I’ll get the baby to stop crying if you do the same with Mo Xuanyu.”

Yeah, that was definitely a headache. The sort of headache called why do I like that brat.

Mo Xuanyu owed him so much candy for putting up with this shit.

“Fine,” Xue Yang said begrudgingly. “Truce. Temporarily. And then you leave!”

-

“So we live here now, huh?” A-Qing said, looking around the house they’d claimed. “That’s neat.”

“Why do you live with us again?” Xue Yang asked her, though by now he barely even meant it. A-Qing was clearly another one in the same mold as Mo Xuanyu: you just couldn’t say no to her…or, rather, you could, at length and top volume and with threats, only it just didn’t stick. “I definitely did not recall asking you to stay.”

Though it was nice to have someone else around that wasn’t going to get immediately ripped off by literally anyone who came their way. Mo Xuanyu’d started getting conned by the literal infant that they were taking care of – he was completely hopeless.

Also, questionably blind or not, at least A-Qing had no hesitation about beating people with her stick if they struck her the wrong way, which was a life approach Xue Yang agreed with wholeheartedly.

“She’s going to learn to cultivate!” Mo Xuanyu chirped from where he was applying his make-up. “Demonic cultivation, too! We had a whole discussion about it while you were out getting groceries!”

That made a certain amount of sense, Xue Yang supposed. You didn’t need talent to be a demonic cultivator – technically speaking, given his bloodline, Mo Xuanyu was more naturally gifted in cultivation than Xue Yang, which was just wrong on all sorts of levels – and it was certainly more effective a defense mechanism than A-Qing’s stick. If there were two of them, they could protect Mo Xuanyu and the baby more effectively, taking shifts when needed, and Mo Xuanyu, who was also going to learn demonic cultivation no matter how many times Xue Yang had to hammer it into his head, could be the last line of defense, largely since no one would ever expect him to be able to do…anything…and they’d be right, too.

So it wasn’t the craziest idea in the world, only…

“…who is she going to be learning from, exactly!?”

-

“Have you ever considered charging for your skill in teaching cultivation lessons instead of your skill in stabbing people?” A-Qing asked one day. They were lying on the ground and having the corpses they’d raised fan them to try to reduce the temperature – it was that sort of day. Also, Mo Xuanyu, who might’ve objected, wasn’t around. “You’re not actually that bad at this. Might be more profitable, and less work. Just a thought.”

“Shut up. I’m great at stabbing people.”

“Yeah, but then after a while we have to move because people get annoyed at that, and it’s getting a little annoying to have to pack up all the time.”

“We’d have to move anyway. We’re wanted criminals, remember?”

“We could be wanted criminals with a house. Besides, wouldn’t you like to be called Teacher Xue?”

“What? No. Gross.”

-

“So you see, it turns out that they were teaching demonic cultivation in a safe and organized fashion,” Xiao Xingchen explained enthusiastically. “They’d even gathered up their own little sect! And of course everyone heard what the Chang clan did, so there’s no need to worry about them going around and murdering people at random – it was a targeted revenge scheme.”

“We’re working on teaching them regular cultivation,” Song Lan agreed, nodding. “To help mitigate the negative effects of demonic cultivation…well, we started out by just teaching them.”

“It turned out that they’d been secretly teaching all of the local delinquents, too, or at least Mo-gongzi had been teaching a few and Mistress Qing was teaching a few others, and even Sect Leader Xue had a few disciples,” Xiao Xingchen said, politely omitting or possibly having not noticed the fact that Mo Xuanyu had been teaching his ‘friends’ (read: scammers trying to take advantage of him), while A-Qing and Xue Yang had each been trying to form competing gangs and/or obtain lackeys. Xue Yang didn’t mind the oversight, largely on account of the fact that A-Qing had been winning, damn her – he’d kept getting distracted by inventing new things. “And a few of them had real talent – and you know that Zichen and I have always wanted to start a sect of our own, with no bloodline ties –”

“We’re joining their sect,” Song Lan said. “We’ll be leading the orthodox side, while they lead the demonic cultivation aspect – safely, of course.”

“I guess it’s better than them being crazy,” Jiang Cheng said. He sounded dubious. “I don’t like it, but at least all the demonic cultivators can be in one spot, you know?”

He made it sound like they’d be dropping off new ones there in the future.

Like they’d opened up some sort of pet rescue and were taking in unwanted puppies or something.

“Agreed,” Nie Mingjue said. “To the extent that they aren’t causing active harm, containment seems an appropriate remedy here. Who seconds the motion?”

“I do,” Lan Xichen said, and smiled at the newly agreed-upon sect. “Welcome back to the cultivation world, Sect Leader Xue.”

-

“I don’t want to know,” Jin Guangyao said, glaring.

“Don’t worry,” Xue Yang told him. “This comes as much of a shock to me as to you.”

The glare intensified, but that was fine. Jin Guangyao’s facial expressions, however minor and generally overlooked, had been the only thing getting him through that awful, awful meeting just now where people kept trying to salute him and make him salute back and if he didn’t then he was letting down Mo Xuanyu (who would send him a sad look) and A-Qing (who would hear about it from Mo Xuanyu later and then find a way to step on his foot right when he was concentrating on something).

Not to mention their two new resident lovebirds, who looked so righteous and proper from the outside but who also may or may not have accidentally full-on actually resurrected some dead asshole cultivator more or less the first time they’d joined Xue Yang in his demonic cultivation laboratory – which would have been fine, you know, that happened in demonic cultivation though not normally to quite such a wow-is-he-actually-alive extent, except that the guy’s intermittent moments of clarity suggested that his two new sect members might have just brought back the Yiling Patriarch himself, which was going to make all of them wanted criminal again the second anyone found out about it.

Ugh.

Being called sect leader was completely not worth this shit.

Xue Yang comforted himself with the reminder that later today he was planning on publicly introducing Jin Guangyao to the Xue sect’s head junior disciple “Xue Song” and announcing loudly that the brat needed some lessons in manners, that he’d heard that that was Lianfeng-zun’s specialty, and nominating him to take care of the kid while they were visiting.

See how the fucker liked that.

“I always knew Xue-gege could do great things!” Mo Xuanyu said, clapping his hands as A-Qing rolled her (by now, Xue Yang was almost definitely sure not actually blind) eyes behind his back. “As long as I went with him!”

[seriesxwriting]

I’m gonna end up in prison anyway.

JJ maybank x you! <3

JJ is upset about jhon B being in prison and takes it out on you… but JJ soon realises he’s in the wrong and apologises confessing his love for you at the same time <3.

Warnings- kissing and swearing. I think that’s it.

Also just wanna say that I know all my writing has been outer banks characters but more characters are coming soon I promise. I’m just obsessed with this show at the moment :)

“JJ your an idiot!” I yelled at him once he’d climbed in to the speeding car explaining what he had tried to do. “well I’m going to end up in jail anyway so who fucking cares” JJ ran his fingers through his blonde hair avoiding eye contact with me sitting tight in the seat next to him.

“I fucking care JJ” I mimicked him in a calmer tone.

He looked at me still panting from the run “you alright?” Pope eyed his best in the mirror from the front seat. “Just a shit day” he inhaled and exhaled loudly turning his whole body away from me and staring out the window.

What the fuck was he thinking trying to bust jhon B out with that plan! We needed to prove his innocents not go on the run again.

Ki drove us back to where we were staying in silence. Her and pope went off in to the night talking about some random stuff, giggling some might say flirting. “y/n” he called out when I was walking away from the car minding my own business “what”.

JJ came around to my side climbing out of the white suit he was dressed in tying it around his torso.

“You still mad?”

“I’m not even mad JJ I’m -just worried” I stuttered trying to think of the right words so I would give him any clues to how I really felt about the boy.

“John B is in prison! I needed to do something It’s him you should be worried about” “I am! But I’m worried about you as well your acting like an idiot your not going to prison JJ so stop blaming all your shit on that, it’s not down to you we’re all doing everything we can to free him but your choices there down to you! So watch them”

“None of you are doing anything” he scoffed, I went closer to take his hand in mine. “why do you think your going to prison?” I whispered looking up at his beautiful eyes holding his hand in to my stomach.

“Because I am! Im going to end up in prison anyway so what’s the point” he shouted pulling away from me looking up at the sky with the roll of his eyes.

“well I’m not gonna let you!”

“You can’t do anything about it y/n were all fucked! ki just got kicked out of her parents house Pope hasn’t been home for days! My dad is a dick head- so is Sara’s and you, I don’t even know what your doing here you could go back home to you warm fluffy bed any time you wanted… John B is already in prison it’s just a matter of time before we’re ALL in there too” he shouted at me with tears in his eyes.

I wanted to hug him because he was in pain but he’d hurt me.

“FUCK YOU! I’m a pogue”

“are you? Do you want to be in prison with us” JJ asked me calmly with a hint of a smile.

I pushed him on the chest and he stumbled back a bit looking at my face knowing he’d hurt me.

“your upset …about John B I know, but you don’t have to be such an asshole! If you wanna fuck your life up and go prison be my guest JJ… but you won’t see the others in there, don’t say I didn’t try to help you because that’s all I’ve EVER tried to do” I shouted with a tear sliding out my dolled up eyes. Side looking him before turning my back with attitude and leaving JJ stood there. Alone.

I couldn’t believe I was actually in love with that ass, he’d never spoken to me like that how I knew he was just hurt.

But I wasn’t going to take that it’s not acceptable, no one should be spoke to like that and if he wanted me to forgive him he was gonna have to work for it. I went to sleep soon after that, on the beat up sofa with scrappy blankets feeling empty inside, though I didn’t get much sleep overall.

I tossed and turned for what felt like hours, playing back the conversation in my head overthinking it. finally getting to sleep around five am.

“Don’t tell me how to wax my bored!” Is what I woke up to.

My head was clanging from lack of sleep and the sun glaring down at me through the dusty window.

“Boys, SHUT UP” I sailed out to them, not being in the mood to be awake yet “sorry y/n! JJ is just being an idiot”

“what else is new?” I wondered to pope coming out into the straight heat blocking the sun with my hand.

Kiara and pope laugh at me while JJ stood there looking guilty underneath his sunglasses. His face showed that he regretted what happened last night but I really wasn’t interested at the moment. He’d pissed me off.

“Don’t you think he’s using to much wax?” Pope pointed at the bored in JJ’s hands.

“don’t tell me how to wax my bored! Jeez”

JJ lifted up his sparkling sunglasses up on to his head in anger at pope.

“I’m just saying…” “guys seriously stop it!” Kiara looked up giving them daggers clearly getting annoyed. “Remember when y/n suggested you shut up, listen to it!”

“wait shhh.. do you hear that?” JJ rotated his head and eyes away from me peering in to the distance of the road “is that…” I trailed off listening out. Jhon b swerved around the corner in his van with a huge smile on his face. The feeling in the air changed immediately.

“JHON B?!” Kiara jumped over the sofa throwing her magazine on the floor running towards him excitedly flopping in to his arms

The boys followed jumping in to a happy group hug I didn’t Wanna disturb. Though it did put a smile on my face.

“what the hell bro?” JJ slapped John B on the back with a beautiful smile fixed on his face. It was nice to see him genuinely smile.

“They let me go” he smiled shrugging while everyone took a step back.

“Come here” jhon B laughed putting his arms out to me, I’d stayed in the dorm frame the whole time just watching. I bounced over and we met in the middle hugging tightly. “Ugh it’s so good to have you back” I whispered softly

“but they just let you go?” Pope questioned confused.

“Sure did- charges were dropped, wheres Sarah?” He looked around and then at me.

“She didn’t come back last night” JJ sighed so I didn’t have to answer “she went to meet wheezie and didn’t come back” he explained again in more detail when John B looked at me for answers again.

Suddenly out the corner off our eyes we saw a speedboat heading to us, with topper and Sara. The confused ,but happy to be reunited, pogues all ran towards it but gently my wrist was grabbed. Stopping me from following.

“can I talk to you?” JJ asked with a sad soft face pointed to the floor,

“maybe if you actually look me in the eyes for once” I told him while folding my arms defensively so I’d get out of his grasp.

“I’m- sorry I’m so sorry y/n, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that you didn’t deserve to hear that, it came from a place of anger and worry and sadness it wasn’t meant for you”

“That’s what I said to you JJ, I also said I was here for you but you can’t push me away like that” I attacked him with guilt “I know that…” “but theres a reason” JJ fixed his top setting it straight and looked dead into my eye.

This time he took my hand…myy heart beat quickened as I grew more nervous thinking about all the possible things he could say.

“Uh… okay, I really like you..y/n” JJ confessed with a smirk.

“W-what?” My words didn’t know how to come out and my body insisted on making me look like an idiot. I forgot got how to control my body, my mouth was open in shock with What the boy had just said.

“me?”

“Yes, you” JJ’s laughed filled my ears flicking his blonde hair out his eyes . “I said all that’s shit to you yesterday because I know I’ll never be good enough for you… and that hurts so I fucked things up.. but I don’t wanna fuck this up”

“You didn’t fuck anything up, I like you too” I told him softly snaking my hands up to his face holding it so he was looking at me. It was all such a rush.

“but you need to work on your eye contact because you have such pretty eyes” I smiled against his soft lips before kissing him.

Our tongues entered each others mouths and my hand held on to his blonde hair for support. We both pulled away out of breath and burning with the excitement of young love. leaning out foreheads on each other’s.

“Fucking hell y/n, I’d thought out every possibility about how this would go but none of them where like that” he breathed quietly, giggling holding my waist and bringing me closer to his body.

“I promise I won’t ever shout at you again”

“I can deal with the shouting JJ ,it’s the part where you put your self down! That hurts me because I believe in you”.

He looked taken back, “no one- has ever spoke to me like you have” he whispered in realisation, “well then you better fucking listen to what I have to say huh” I raised my eye brow chewing on my bottom lip

JJ nodded his head grinning down before pulling me in to a hug.

“thank you” he whispered in my ear. “For what?” I looked at him funny “for not giving up on me” “no I like you too much” I shrugged looking at the floor to distract my smile.

“I promise I won’t ever give up on you” I told him seriously.

JJ beamed and leant in for another kiss warming my heart and securing me in his strong arms.

[lunar-wandering]

Sparkling Laughter

the giggle glow au is the only thing keeping me sane right now

Word Count: 2.6k

Read on Ao3

MK hadn't really noticed it at first.

Between always being in a brightly lit area and mainly focusing on training, it wasn't exactly like he saw Wukong laugh often.

So maybe it took him a while to notice.

But after he noticed, it was kinda hard to miss.

Wukong straight up glowed when he laughed.

And MK didn't mean that figuratively. No, he meant it very literally.

A single chuckle was enough to get Wukong glowing like a nightlight. Full out laughter could very nearly light up a whole room.

"You know, the stories never mentioned that you glow." MK said, one day, a few monkeys climbing all over him. The monkeys messing his hair up was what had prompted Wukong to start laughing in the first place, and MK figured there was no better time than the present to bring it up.

"It was never really something that others deemed important, I guess." Wukong said, shrugging, still faintly glowing with a few remaining chuckles as he helped remove some of the monkeys from MK. "It's definitely not showstopping or cool, so it was just left out."

"I think it's neat." MK said, "You're kinda like... a light up toy or something."

"Hm, not sure how I feel about that comparison." Wukong said, pulling the last monkey off of MK's shoulders, and ruffling MK's hair, fixing the mess the monkeys had left it in. "There you go, bud, all good as new."

"Thanks, Monkey King." MK said, scooping up his bag from where he'd laid it on the ground, summoning the staff and getting ready to vault back to the city. "Y'know, we are just doing game night tonight. You're welcome to join if you want to-"

"It's fine, I've got something to do tonight." Wukong said, giving MK a smile that didn't feel...fully real. "You go have fun with your friends."

MK slowly nodded, not fully believing Wukong, but figuring that arguing would probably get him nowhere. So he turned, jumping off of Flower Fruit Mountain, and leaving Wukong all by himself.

-

Two months later, on the ship, Mei found a game of Twister in one of the closets.

It hadn't taken much to convince everyone else to join in, that is, other than Macaque, who insisted on not taking part. Not even 4 minutes into the game, Red Son forcibly kicked Wukong out, on the grounds that his tail gave him an unfair advantage. This left only Tang, Pigsy, Sandy, MK, Mei, and Red Son on the Twister mat.

Macaque lazily spun the spinner with his tail.

"Left hand blue." He said, voice a complete deadpan. Mei moved to reach over across MK-

And Tang fell down, bringing Pigsy down with him, who accidentally bumped into Red Son, who, knocked off balance, fell into Mei, who fell down on top of MK.

In the end, only Sandy was left still in 'standing', the others in a pile on top of the twister mat.

".....Sandy wins?" Macaque said, a questioning lilt in his voice, prompting MK to look over at him-

Which caused him to notice the expression on Wukong's face.

It suddenly struck MK that within the one week everyone had been on the ship, Wukong had yet to laugh, which in hindsight was rather concerning, but right now that meant that the other's didn't know-

"Uh guys? You might want to shield your eyes." MK said, barely managing to say it before-

Wukong burst out laughing, doubling over, and lighting up like a flashlight, accompanied by a few sparkles shining in the air. Macaque startled at the sudden noise, and ended up falling off the couch, which just made Wukong laugh harder, glowing brighter as a result. The others yelped at the sudden brightness, MK's warning not having registered in time.

Wukong, registering the fact that he was currently blinding the others, calmed down a little, the glow lessening as he went from full out laughter to soft chuckles.

"S- sorry I just-" He started, clearly trying to keep himself from falling back into hysterics again. "You looked so funny I just- I couldn't help it-"

Mei was the first to manage to blink the residual spots out of her vision and register what had just occurred.

"You glow?!" She asked, incredulous, the others also sporting similar expressions of surprise.

Things proceeded to go downhill from there, questions getting thrown out without any answers. At some point, in the chaos, Wukong straight up left the room without anyone noticing he was gone until Macaque pointed it out.

Of course, after a day or so, the hype of the new information had died down a little.

But not completely.

-

It was early morning, and almost everyone was in the kitchen. Mei and MK on their phones, Pigsy working on breakfast, Sandy pouring some tea, Red Son sipping some coffee, Tang reading a newspaper, and Wukong leaning against the kitchen wall, looking lost in thought. (They'd all long since learned it was pointless to try to wake Macaque up, he was not a morning person.)

Overall, it was an average morning.

And then Wukong started giggling, glowing softly. He was clearly lost in thought, probably completely forgetting where he was at the moment. Mei looked up from her phone to glance over at him.

"What, did you think of something funny, 'Sparkle Snickers'?" Mei asked, and Wukong-

Wukong's giggling abruptly cut off as became aware of where he was again, and as soon as he registered what Mei had just said, he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck in a flustered motion.

It took a moment for the others to connect the dots.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me." Mei said, an evil smirk appearing on her face. "Glitter Gleam."

Wukong's tail waved back and forth in a nervous gesture.

"Giggly Nightlight."

A nervous smile formed on Wukong's face.

"Twinkle Toes-"

"Okay, stop." Wukong said, a hand covering his face, a faint blush visible on the tips of his ears. MK almost felt bad for him, but at the same time...

"C'mon, after everything I've tried teasing you with, nicknames about your Giggle Glow is what gets to you?" Mei asked, laughing a bit herself as Wukong squeaked as the word "giggle glow" left her mouth. "Seriously? This is what embarrasses you?"

"It's not embarrassing-" Wukong said, which was a sentence nobody really believed, considering the way he still wouldn't look at them and the fact that the faint blush still hadn't faded. "It's just, not....cool, y'know?"

"No, I don't know." Mei said, leaning forwards on her elbows. "Please, enlighten me."

Wukong stuttered, clearly trying to figure out how to explain it, as MK set his phone down on the table.

"Is that why the stories don't mention that you glow?" MK asked, "You don't think it's cool, which, by the way, it totally is, but since you believe it isn't you got them to cut it out cause you're embarrassed over it?"

"It's not cool! And I'm not embarrassed!" Wukong denied, fur bristling as the others leveled him with a look that clearly showed that they didn't believe that statement one bit. He looked around the room, registering everyone's expressions-

He could tell they weren't going to let him live this down.

So he did the first thing he thought of.

He turned and ran away, hitting the light switch as he did so, sending the room into complete darkness so no one could see where he went.

"Wh- hey!" MK cried out, standing up and fumbling for the light switch. As he did so, he heard a thump, a muffled yelp, and a door shut, but he was mainly focused on trying to find the stupid light, why could you never find it when you need it-

The light switched back on, revealing that MK had been a good distance away from it. Macaque stood beside it, looking confused.

"What is going on?" He asked, looking confused.

"Monkey King ran away over something stupid." Red Son said, filling the shadow monkey in on the situation.

"So, what, you're all going to go look for him?" Macaque asked, sighing when the others nodded in response. "I should've expected that...."

"C'mon! You can search with us!" Mei said, grabbing hold of Macaque's arm and dragging him with her, MK and Red Son following close behind. Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy opted to stay in the kitchen, in case Wukong ended up circling back. MK, Mei, Macaque, and Red Son ended up walking through the halls, keeping an eye out for any sign of the Monkey King.

"Couldn't you just, y'know, use your hearing to find him?" Red Son eventually asked Macaque, who stumbled a little at the question, having not expected to be addressed.

"Who, me?" He asked, looking...oddly nervous. "Nah, he has ways of getting around it anyways."

"...Are you sure?" MK asked, now feeling just the slightest bit suspicious. "I remember you saying that you could hear anything-"

"I'm sure! I won't be any help here, I assure you!" Macaque said, shrinking down a bit as the three continued to stare at him.

"Y'know, you've seemed a little off this morning...." Mei said, and Macaque scratched the side of his face nervously. "Are you....okay?"

"What? Oh, I'm fine." Macaque said, chuckling nervously- and immediately realizing his mistake, as a faint glow resonated from him for a few moments. It wasn't long, but it was enough.

"Monkey King." MK said, and Wukong turned, dropping the Macaque glamour as he ran down the hallway, the trio chasing after him. he rounded a corner, and the trio turned to follow, but MK paused, hearing a faint banging coming from the closet door. He stopped, letting the others continue to chase Wukong, and turned, opening the door-

And the real Macaque tumbled out, onto the floor.

"I'm going to kill him." He mumbled, distractedly letting MK help him stand up. "He locked me in the closet. I'm going to kill him."

"Yeah, maybe save the murder for later." MK said, turning to follow where he'd seen the others gone.

-

He eventually found them, standing in the common room, looking around them with a healthy does of suspicion.

"Where'd he go?" MK asked.

"We know he hasn't left this room. Red Son made sure of it." Mei said, Red Son holding up a tablet to show he'd hacked into the ship's security systems. "But as for where in this room he is...."

"...As much as I hate this, I've got an idea." Macaque said, the others looking at him with mild shock. "Don't look at me like that, I'm only doing this because it'll be funny, and cause I wanna get revenge on him for locking me in a closet."

"The floor is yours." Red Son said, doing an over dramatic bow as he said it. Macaque rolled his eyes (and MK mentally decided to bring up the shadow monkey's own dramatics later-) but he stepped forwards, into the center of the room.

A shadow clone appeared, slowly emerging from Macaque's own shadow. It stood there for a moment, still, before turning and merging with a shadow on the wall.

A few seconds passed.

And then a faint glow, as well as some muffled giggling, came from behind one of the cabinets. MK quickly moved forwards, reaching behind it-

And pulling out a doll-sized Monkey King, holding him up by the edge of his clothes.

Wukong squeaked, quickly switching back to his usual size, sending MK a bit off balance, and trying to run away, but MK refused to let him, holding tight to the edge of Wukong's outfit. It took a few minutes of struggling, (which Macaque clearly enjoyed, if his own muffled laughter was anything to go by.), but eventually Wukong gave up, sighing as he fell down onto his back, laying there, defeated. Mei and Red Son moved to stand closer to him, and MK lightly nudged him with his foot.

"You ready to admit that your Light-up Laughter is cool now?" He asked, and Wukong groaned, rolling over so that his face was hidden by the floor.

"Stop giving it stupid names!" He whined, "And it's not cool!"

"I should warn you." Macaque said, sitting down on the nearby couch, "You're not going to make much progress on this. He was like this even back when we we're 'friends'. I'm surprised he didn't grow out of it, honestly."

"You shut up." Wukong hissed, sitting up a little just to glare at Macaque before going back to laying face down on the floor. "I should've never let myself laugh in front of any of you."

Well. That sentence was, on some level, mildly concerning, but MK decided to brush past it for now.

"Aw, c'mon Monkey King." Mei said, kneeling down and poking Wukong's arm, repeatedly. "You can't just mope over a few nicknames forever."

"Watch me."

"If you keep this up, we'll have to start calling you the emo monkey, instead of Macaque." Red Son said.

"Should I be offended by that?" Macaque asked, "I feel like I should be offended by that-"

Wukong didn't respond, continuing to lay face down on the floor. Mei continued poking his arm. After a few minutes of consideration, MK started to lightly nudge Wukong as well. Red Son knelt down beside MK to start poking Wukong in the back with a pencil he'd found on a nearby desk. Macaque watched this go down with thinly veiled amusement.

After a few moments of no response from Wukong though, Macaque sighed, standing up and making his way over. Silently, he created a few pairs of sunglasses, handing them off to each member of the trio, indicating for them to put them on. A bit confused, but willing to go along with it, they complied, sliding the glasses over their eyes. Macaque, having affirmed that their eyes were protected, slid his own pair of sunglasses on, then looked down at Wukong, contemplating.

And then he leaned down and skittered his fingers behind Wukong's knee. The reaction was immediate, Wukong squeaking before breaking into loud laughter, lighting up like a beacon, sparkles shining all around him. It was nearly bright enough to make the trio shield their eyes, even with sunglasses. Wukong kicked his leg out, very nearly missing hitting Macaque in the face, rolling over and getting up, practically scrambling to get away from the other monkey.

"Don't do that." He hissed, once he'd managed to get a hold of himself, the light dimming and vanishing completely. (Mei, quietly, mumbled something about wishing she'd gotten that on camera.)

"Either you stop moping around and accept the facts about your, what did Mei call it- right, 'Giggle Glow'-" Macaque said, giving Wukong a threatening look. "Or I tickle you again. Your choice."

".....Fine. Fine!" Wukong said, "It's cool! Whatever! Can we just drop this already?!"

-

They didn't drop it. They very much didn't drop it.

Whenever Wukong so much as lightly chuckled, someone would comment on the glow. At some point, he genuinely considered the idea of just never laughing in the others presence ever again, but that plan was quickly laid to rest-

The others were just. Too. Funny.

"Kill me." Wukong muttered, his face on the table, a faint glow still surrounding him from residual laughter. "You guys are going to kill me."

"Yep, that's the plan!" Macaque called from the door way. "Can't believe it took you so long to figure that out, Sparkling Peach-"

"I hate all of you."

[smells-like-mettaton]

Rating: T (for inherent neutral ending angst)

Summary: Toriel's old house feels like a mausoleum. She will gladly ignore chisp crumbs and lumpy mattresses for a place that feels more like home.  (Queen Toriel ending fic for Soriel Week 2021.)

Word Count: 5211

XXX

The bedroom was exactly how she left it. Her bed pushed up against the gray wall. A book about snails on the wooden desk. A knit sweater with the embroidered words "Mrs. Mom Lady" in the wardrobe.

Even after all this time, she could barely look at it without her soul splitting in two.

She'd known this wouldn't be easy. She hadn't seen this house in over a century. Still, she wasn't prepared for how Asgore had sealed up her old room like a tomb, a photograph of the day that everything went terribly, horribly wrong.

At least the last child was safe. They should not have had to take a life to save their own, but she doubted Asgore had given them a choice.  Her own soul felt more numb than anything.  To her, Asgore had died a century ago.

What was done, was done. And as usual, she was too late to do anything but sweep up the dust.

She backed through the doorframe, shutting the door with a quiet click. She would have to return eventually, but for now, she yearned for a place with fewer painful memories.

"Hey, Your Majesty." A voice startled her as she attempted to escape the foyer. Luckily it was a voice she would always recognize.

"Hello, old friend." She turned and smiled at the monster leaning against the stair railing.

He was smaller than she expected, with that deep voice. Not that that was a bad thing. As for him being a skeleton, that had been apparent from the abundance of bone puns.

"You know the formality is unnecessary," she told him softly.

"Is it?" He shuffled from foot to slippered foot. 

In all her time of joking with him through the door, she had never expected him to be so cute. 

"Didn't want to assume, old lady."

He winked, and she felt a weight lift from her chest. At least one monster would still treat her like a person, and not like a mythical figure returned to save them.

"Toriel," she introduced herself for the first time. He had to have heard already, but between rushing to the palace, scattering Asgore's dust, comforting their—her people… she hadn't had time to seek out her friend.

He seemed to feel comfortable walking right into her home, though. Did he ever visit Asgore when he was here? Her friend seemed like the type of monster who went wherever he felt like, and Asgore, for all his flaws, had never turned a monster away from his home.

"Sans." He held out a bony hand. "Sans the skeleton."

"Nice to meet you, Sans," she tested out the name and clasped his hand with her paw.

A loud pthbbbbbt echoed through the empty hall. Her eyes widened.

"Wow, Toriel. That's, uh, some way to make an introduction." He winked.

She squinted down at the inflatable object in his hand, the source of the farting noise. Then she pretended to ignore it.

"It certainly is. I was not aware that skeletons were capable of flatulence."

His eyelights gutted for a moment before he burst out laughing.

"Your jokes are even better in person," he said once he composed himself.

His laugh set her soul fluttering. In all their conversations through the door, he'd never laughed like that. Maybe she should have tried fart jokes sooner.

"I am always happy to tickle your funny bone." She smiled, and his face tinged blue.

"Happy to be tickled. But, uh. I guess that's not all I'm here for?"

Her breath caught in her lungs. Of course he would not visit without a reason. 

"I suppose not. Would you like to have a seat?"

"It's nothing that serious," he assured her quickly. "I just thought you'd want an update on the kid."

"You've spoken with them? They are still here?"  She tried to keep the hysteria from her voice.

How could they have taken Asgore’s soul and not returned home?  Had the Barrier proven too powerful?

"No—geez, I'm making this sound worse." He ran a bony palm down his face. "They’re definitely gone.  Papyrus tried to call them nonstop.  Besides that, you know the big stuff. The king's dead."

Her lips drew to a thin line, pulling tight across her fangs.

"I can hardly fault them for that."

"Right." He stuck his hands back in his pockets. "I gotta be honest. The way the kid looked when I last saw them… I don't think they did it."

Her brow furrowed. She was inclined to hope that the child had not chosen violence.  They had been so sweet, so eager to talk and joke with the monsters of the Ruins, so quick to hug her even after she’d fought them.  It was hard to imagine them striking down Asgore.

"But… then what do you think happened?"

Sans shrugged. "Wish I knew. I kept watch best I could, but…"

"I could not expect you to come between them and your king." As much as she wished he could have. She had hardly expected him to agree to watch over the human at all.

“Couldn’t have even if I wanted to.  These bones aren’t as sturdy as they look.  Maybe I shoulda listened to my bro and drank more milk...” He grimaced and glanced away.  “Anyway.  Like I said, I don’t know what happened.  Just.  Be careful, okay?”

“Careful?” She blinked.

“Yeah.  You never know.” His gaze flickered to a potted golden flower on the end table next to the stairs.

“Sans.  If I did not know better, that would sound like a threat.” She crouched down, so she could better meet his eyesockets. “Is there something you are trying to tell me?”

“Man. First I rip one in front of a lady, then I threaten her.  I’m makin’ a great first impression.”  He rocked back and forth on his slippers. “Look. Toriel. I don’t wanna scare you, ‘specially since today must’ve been hard. Real hard.”

His eyelights bored into her irises. She found herself needing to look away.

“It has certainly been… interesting. Moreso than any day since I last saw this place.” She suppressed a shudder.

Change. Her life had been constant for so long.  There would be no more of that, now. Hopefully that would be for the better, but only time would tell.

“Yeah. Being flung away from everything you’re used to… don’t imagine that’s a cakewalk. Don’t want you to worry about freaks hiding in the shadows on top of that.”

Somehow, she felt he made more sense when he was on the other side of a door. Knock-knock jokes had a formula. Just another normalcy she had forfeited, she supposed.

“Please, Sans. If you believe I am in danger, you may say so.”

“Fine. So.” He grinned, and she couldn’t help a snort.

“Alright, I suppose I walked into that one.” She smiled, despite his warning. “Under normal circumstances, I would say I could handle myself. But I must admit you are more updated on the state of the kingdom than I.  Do you have any information that could help?”

“...Not really?” His grin turned sheepish.  “You look like a tough lady. I bet my bones are rattling over nothing.”

“I would still humer-us you.”

He gave her a funny look. “You’re actually taking me seriously?”

“Why would I not? You are my friend.  Perhaps… my only friend, at this point,” she admitted.  It would be foolish to ignore a warning, even if it was based on gut feeling. Or, whatever skeletons had in place of a gut.

“Well.  Uh.  If someone, something, was behind the king’s… yeah. If it wasn’t the kid, whoever else it was might still be around. So.” He coughed. “Sounds stupid when I say it like that, huh.”

“It does not.  I think it is sweet that you are worried.” He wouldn’t be able to see her blush, thankfully. It had been a long time since anyone had looked out for her.

“Geez, Toriel.” He rubbed the back of his skull. “You’re gonna ruin my reputation.”

“What reputation? Are you typically a monster with a heart of bone?” she teased.

“Nah. I just don’t worry. Too much work.”  It was difficult to tell if he was joking.  “Guess I can make an exception this once, though.”

“Why, thank you, my friend.”  She had the sudden urge to reach out and squeeze his hand.  It would be more for her own comfort than his, so she did not act on it. “To be honest, your words are a relief. I do not mind the excuse to avoid this place.”

“Oh.” He sounded surprised. “You got somewhere else you’d rather be?”

She both did, and did not. How could she explain without sounding like a clinging child?

...Perhaps that was the wrong metaphor. She would have preferred her children to be a little clingier.

“‘Cause, uh, if you don’t mind a bit of mess… my door’s always open.”

She blinked at the offer. Had he felt the thoughts stirring in her soul?

She didn’t want to be alone. Not again. And she had told him the truth: there were unlikely to be any other monsters she knew still around. Perhaps Gerson; she and Asgore had always joked that he would outlive them.

That joke seemed awfully morbid now.

“Sorry. Was that too forward? Our friendship’s built off closed doors; guess we should just take 'em one at a—"

"No," she interjected too forcefully. “No. I would love to visit your home.”

Though she had never set foot there, she already suspected it would feel more like a home than this place.

“You really—? Great.” His skull tinged the faintest blue. “Just, uh, know that it’s nothing fancy.”

Toriel smiled. “‘Nothing fancy’ sounds wonderful at the moment.”

Perhaps wherever he lived would be out of the way enough that news of her return would be delayed. If she could be lucky enough to pass for an ordinary monster… well, that was likely too much to wish for. It certainly wasn’t becoming of a queen to hide from her subjects.

Stars, there was so much to get used to. So many formalities to reacquaint herself with.  She hoped such things would wait until tomorrow.

Sans returned her smile.

“In that case, I know a shortcut.”

XXX

She handled the shortcut well for a first-timer. No stumbling on the other end, no complaints of nausea or dizziness. Of course, she was a Queen. A Boss Monster. Why would a magic trick ruin her composure?

Sans wanted to laugh. All this time, he'd been joking with the Queen. She didn't seem to mind, but she could just be “humerus”ing him.

...Nah. She had every excuse to ignore him if she really wanted to. Instead she'd actually taken him up on his offer.

He almost forgot to drop her hand once their feet landed in the soft snow. Heh. Who was he kidding? It was just nice to feel her fur under his fingers. To touch her, and know that she was real.

"Oh!" Her eyes lit up, reflecting the gyftmas lights strung haphazardly around the house's columns. "I remember this place!"

"You do?" Sans's browbone furrowed.

"I saw it while travelling from the Ruins to…" she trailed off.  To stop the kid from fighting Asgore.

Sans felt stupid for not trying to stop them himself.  Not that a kid that determined would’ve listened, anyway.  Still… he’d believed in them.  Hoped that by some miracle, they’d get ‘em out of this mess.

Heh. That was too much pressure to put on a kid, even a determined one.

"Yeah." He coughed quietly. "Guess we're hard to miss. Papyrus did something to the Gyftmas lights—even when the CORE lights go out for the night, ours stay on. Never figured out how he pulled that off."

Toriel laughed before seeming to realize something.

"I will get to meet your brother!" She clasped her hands together. "I wish it had not come about for such an unhappy reason, but I am excited nonetheless."

He chuckled. Her excitement was contagious. That was something she and Papyrus had in common already.

He pushed the door open, called out for his brother—and noticed the monster sprawled out on his couch.

"Oh." Sans blinked at Undyne, who was snoring so loudly, he should've heard it from outside. Guess he'd been a little distracted. "Uh. This is awkward."

"What is it?" Toriel hung back, her head ducking through the doorframe. "Is your brother sleeping? I would not wish to wake him. You said he rarely sleeps, did you not?"

"Nah, it's not him. Forgot his pal's house burned down. Actually, I'm sure you met her. Undyne? Captain of the Royal Guard?"

"I… yes, we met." Toriel edged inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click. "She looks far more peaceful now than she did this morning. From what I understand, my ex-husband was something of a father to her."

"Something like that." Sans nodded in agreement. There hadn't even been a Royal Guard until Asgore created the position for her. Sans wondered if Toriel would keep it around now that Asgore was gone.

Welp. It wouldn't hurt, what with his suspicions about Papyrus's friend "Flowery." 

(Maybe Sans should let Toriel sleep on the top floor rather than the couch anyway. No dirt for stray flowers to get into up there.)

"Should we be staring?" Toriel said with a soft chuckle.

Sans shook his thoughts away. "Sorry. Just thinking. I, uh…"

There wasn't room on the top floor. Sans's lumpy, crumb-dusted mattress was out of the question. That left only Papyrus's bed, which while rarely in use, had too much sentimental value to give to Toriel without asking. Where was Papyrus, anyway?

"Undyne!" His brother practically kicked in the door. "I have returned with nutritious—oh!"

Papyrus's sockets blinked at Toriel. Then at Sans. Then at Toriel again.

(Undyne let out another loud snore.)

"Sans?”  Papyrus dropped his groceries on the table next to the pet rock. “Why didn't you tell me we had another guest??"  

Because he was an idiot who hadn't planned past one impulsive offer. His face went a little blue.

"I guest you would figure it out," he managed to joke. 

Toriel let out a bleating laugh at that. The suddenness of it was enough to jolt Undyne awake.

"NGAHH!!" She tried to leap off the couch, but ended up rolling onto the floor. "I'm here, Asgore! I won't—oh."

Her single eye blinked up at Toriel. 

"Papyrus?" Undyne hissed through her teeth. "Why didn't you tell me the Queen was coming??"

"Because I didn't know!" Papyrus replied brightly. 

"I, uh, promise I'm usually more professional than this." Undyne summoned an energy spear and used it to push herself to her feet. The attack left a small char mark on the carpet. "I am at your service, Your Majesty."

Sans thought she looked real professional in a pair of Papyrus's MTT-brand crop top pajamas. Toriel didn't comment on that though, instead opting for a matronly smile.

"There is no need for that, Captain. I am not here on business, but as a friend."

That smile turned towards Sans, and he fought back a blush.

"Yeah. I was just gonna, uh, make some dinner. Y'know, welcome our queen back with some Snowdin hospitality."

"Dinner?" Papyrus squinted suspiciously. "You don't cook dinner. I cook dinner."

"First time for everything, right?" Sans winked to hide his embarrassment. 

Of course Papyrus wouldn't buy his excuse. But he really didn't want his brother and Undyne worrying on top of Toriel. Granted, it was Undyne's job to worry about security threats… but she'd tear up the house's foundation if she thought an enemy might be hiding anywhere in a five-mile radius. 

"Sans," Toriel chided him. "You do not owe me that."

"Wowie! You must be a great influence on him, Bald Asgore!"

Toriel blinked before bursting out laughing. Sans's grin widened. 

"Her name is Toriel, bro."

"Of course!! Where are my manners?" Papyrus bustled past him to shake Toriel's paws. "I am the Great Papyrus! It's an honor to meet you, Queen Toriel!"

"The honor is mine. Sans has told me so much about you," she said, and Papyrus blushed pink.

"You? Know the new queen?" Undyne whispered to Sans while Papyrus and Toriel got acquainted.

"You know me. I know everyone." He winked.

"She came out of nowhere."

"Yeah. My bro and I know what that's like."

Undyne huffed, but Sans didn't offer a more thorough explanation.

Papyrus's affronted shout signalled that Toriel had dropped her first pun.

"I take it back! This is the worst day of my life!!" 

Sans met Toriel's eyes, and they both laughed.

"I suppose I will have to help Sans in the kitchen as my pun-ishment," she said with a coy wink.

"Normally I would object to a guest cooking, but in this case I will make an exception!" Papyrus turned on his heel and grabbed Undyne's arm. "We will clean up the living room in the meantime! Try not to corrupt the queen any further, Sans!!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, bro."

He gave a quick wink to Toriel behind Papyrus's back, and they moved to the kitchen.

"Did I actually upset him…?" She asked once they were out of earshot.

"Nah. He's just dramatic like that. He'll drop three puns per sentence when he thinks I'm not listening."

He turned away, rummaging through the fridge for something edible they could cook.  Discreetly, he tucked his empty chisp bag behind Papyrus’s spaghetti-filled tupperware.

“Oh, good.  I would not want to make a bad first impression.”

“Pfft. You’d have to try real hard to do that, Tori.  My bro sees the best in everyone.”  He smiled and pulled a “pupperoni” pizza out of the freezer.  It wasn’t anything fancy, but at least it would be edible.

He turned around, pizza in hand, and found Toriel staring at him oddly.

“What?”  His sockets widened.  “Uh, you’re not vegetarian, are you?”

She shook her head quickly, her gaze skimming off of his like oil from water.

“Pizza sounds lovely.  It has been quite some time since I had one.”

Sans didn’t pry, but he couldn’t help wondering what her expression had meant.  Had he said something weird?

...Oh.  He’d called her Tori, hadn’t he?  He should know better than to use nicknames without asking.  Papyrus hated them.

“Please, allow me.”  She held out her paws, so she couldn’t be too upset.

He handed over the pizza, and he jumped when fire flared to life in her palms.  For a moment he thought the fire would scorch the pizza beyond recognition, but the flames were just pleasantly warm.  He’d never known a monster other than Grillby to have such careful control of fire magic.

“Heh.  I didn’t know you were so hot, Toriel.”

As soon as he said it, he clamped his jaw shut.  Geez, how stupid could he be?  Making bad jokes was one thing, but flirting with bad jokes?

The fire went out.  She looked up abruptly—er, looked away from the pizza.  He was still a good two feet shorter than her.

“Tori was fine,” she said, her voice soft.

“Uh,” he replied intelligently. 

She suppressed a giggle, and he was pretty sure his face burned hotter than her fire had.  He could stand to take notes from Alphys and throw himself in the trash.

“Or not.  Whatever is comfortable for you,” she reassured him.  “Now, should we eat dinner before it gets cold?”

Eating was hardly something he could screw up at.

“Sure,” then after a pause, he tested, “Tori.”

Forget her fire magic.  Her smile could’ve heated the pizza all on its own.

XXX

For once in a hundred years, dinner was a warm and energetic affair.  In addition to the pizza, Papyrus had tossed together a salad from his fresh groceries, and Sans had briefly stepped out to grab a few orders of wings and fries.  In the end there was plenty of food for four hungry monsters.

Papyrus apologized for the lack of seating, but Toriel didn’t mind sitting on the couch squeezed between Sans and Undyne, eating off of paper plates.  She couldn’t imagine anywhere she would have felt more comfortable.

Before long, though, the day’s fatigue caught up with her.  She supposed it was to be expected—she wouldn’t regain her social stamina all at once.  

Sans caught her eye, and he nodded towards the stairs as Undyne and Papyrus “owned” each other in an MTT-Brand fighting game.

“Sorry.  I know they can be a bit much.” Sans rubbed the back of his skull.  

“They’re lovely.  I wish I had the energy to keep up with them.”  She smiled.

He leaned against the banister, smiling down at them.  Papyrus had gotten the upper hand this time, and was punching the air with joy.

“Me too,” Sans said, still looking away.  “I was thinking.  If you want a place to rest for the night, my bed’s open.”

She blinked.  Her face seemed to catch fire.  That was rather more… forward than she was expecting.  Sure, she had enjoyed his lighthearted flirting, and much as she tried to deny it, feelings had been growing in her for a long time.  But to have him return those feelings? And so boldly? It was as unfathomable as it was unlikely.

“I can get ya some fresh sheets, and I’ll crash in the shed.  My bro set up an, uh, guest room there when the human was in town.”

Oh.  She rubbed the heat from her face while he wasn’t looking.  How foolish could she be, to think he would be implying…? Well.

“I would not force you out of your room,” she said.  “If your brother prepared a guest room, I am sure that would be adequate.”

He let out a quick laugh.  “Uh, you’re not used to my brother’s… decorating.  Seriously, I don’t mind.”

She sighed.  If he insisted, she supposed it would be rude to deny his hospitality.

“Alright.  Thank you very much, Sans.”

“Great.”  He smiled back at her, then went into his brother’s room.  She waited patiently, and only jumped a little when he suddenly reappeared from the right hand door.  Perhaps the two rooms were connected in the back by a bathroom.

“Hotel Sans, one vacancy.”  He winked while holding the door open.

She chuckled behind her hand.  “You really did not have to resort to this.”

“Heh, I wouldn’t call it much of a resort.  The bed’s not even queen sized.”  He rubbed the back of his skull.

The bed was smaller than she was used to, but it did have fresh sheets.  That was the only fresh thing about the room.  Chisp crumbs had been brushed under the dresser, and… that was a tornado.  A self-sustaining trash tornado.  Though at least there was a pine-scented air freshener suspended in it.

“Sorry, it’s… really not much.  Uh.  Probably kinda insulting, expecting the Queen to sleep—”

“It’s perfect.”

He blinked.  “Huh?” 

“I am no stranger to a few crumbs, Sans.”

She remembered days that bled into weeks that bled into months.  Months where she couldn’t bring herself to clean, could hardly bring herself to care at all.  Months that had grown fewer and farther between since she’d met a friendly voice behind a door.

“I would’ve vacuumed,” he said sheepishly, “but I suck at it.”

More embarrassingly loud laughter burst from her.  In front of Sans, though, she didn’t feel the need to curtail her joy.

“Thank you.” She poured as much sincerity as she could into her voice.  

“‘S no problem, Tori.”  A light blue tinge warmed his cheekbones.  How could he possibly look so adorable? “Bathroom’s down the hall if you wanna wash up or anything.  And Undyne’ll be on the couch, so this is probably the safest place in the Underground right now.”

Her brow furrowed.  Sure enough, there was no bathroom door inside the room—he must have used one of his “shortcuts” to move from his brother’s room to here.

“So, uh.  I’ll be in the shed—uh, guest room if you need me.”  He flashed one more tense grin before turning to leave.

“Wait.” She stepped towards him without thinking.  

He looked up, one brow ridge raised.  She found herself biting her lip, wondering if she dared ask what her soul wanted.  It was silly, really.  She’d been on her own for years, decades.

Maybe that was why she was so hesitant to lose this one taste of companionship.

“I would feel… safer, if you would stay too.”  Her face burned beneath her fur, but she projected her usual composure.

“...Welp. Can’t say no to that, huh?”

She was about to reassure him that he could say no—that she was asking as his friend, not as his queen—but the soft smile on his face told her he already knew.  

He briefly left to grab a few things, then returned with a few pillows and, for some reason, a dog bed.

“You are not going to sleep on that,” she said in disbelief.

He flopped the dog bed in the middle of the floor and started fluffing it.  “Why not?  Gotta throw a dog bed a bone, right?”

“Sans.”  

The outdoor lights dimmed, as if at her command.  Only the colored Gyftmas lights outside and one dim indoor bulb lit the room.

Her confidence waned with the light.  What had she expected him to do?  She’d asked him to stay.  Unless she wanted to…

Oh, to hell with it.  She was too old to be so shy about these things.

“If you are not opposed,” she swallowed, “we could… share this mattress.”

When he looked up, she couldn’t make out his eyelights at all.  Their glow returned slowly, like the rising of the sun from her memories.

“Heh… you sure?  You don’t even know if I snore.”

She laughed and sat on the bed, patting the space beside her.  “You do not know if I snore, either.”

“Fair enough, Tori.”

They took turns cleaning up in the bathroom—she was imposing on Sans enough without adding the smell of dirty fur to his bed.  Then she did her best to ignore the flutterings in her soul as he slipped off his hoodie and climbed up onto the mattress.  She insisted he stay under the sheets; her fur would keep her warm enough with just the light blanket on top.  

The sheets were a barrier in name only.  There was only so much space on the mattress, so no matter how he adjusted and apologized, she could still feel the curve of his spine against hers.

It felt amazing.  It felt terrifying.  It felt like a mistake.  It felt like the only thing she’d ever done right.

The one saving grace of the whole situation was that it didn’t stir memories of Asgore.  Her royal beds had been triple the size of Sans’s lumpy mattress. She and her ex-husband had rarely slept back to back, and if they had, the feeling would have much different.

“...Tori?” Sans’s voice was just above a whisper.  “You, uh, still awake?”

As if she could sleep while enduring the wonderful agony of friendly touch for the first time in a century.

“Yes,” she replied softly.  “Am I taking up too much space?”

“No, ‘course not. I was just, uh… geez.” He sounded embarrassed.

Risking their precarious balance, she rolled over to face him.  Or to face the back of his skull, at least.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Doin’ sans-sational.” He chuckled to himself.  “Sorry.  Never got to use that one with you before.”

She would have laughed, had she not worried about shaking the whole mattress.

“It was sans-tastic,” she joked back, and he laughed again.

Then abruptly, his laughter cut off.

“Thanks, Tori,” he said in a quiet but firm voice.

“What for?” She wished she could take his hand, see his face, learn what thoughts were passing through his skull.  Instead she gave him as much space as physically possible… which still was not much.

A long, silent moment passed.  Had he fallen asleep?

“I know it’s not how you wanted,” he finally said, “but I’m glad I got to meet you.  So.  Thanks.”

Warmth spread outward from her soul to fill her whole body.  Sans could probably feel it radiating from her.

“Thank you, Sans.  If I had to return, knowing no one…”

He rolled to face her.  His eyelights were mere inches from her pupils.

“You would’ve been fine.  All you had to do was tell a few of your amazing jokes, and the whole Underground would’ve been linin’ up to be your pals.”

She suppressed a laugh.  “I hardly think that would be appropriate, under the circumstances.”

“Eh.”  He shrugged.  “Plenty of monsters in town cope with jokes.  You’d just be relating to the common folk.”

She stared into his sockets a little too intently.  At this distance, it easily made her dizzy.

“Would you be included in that demographic?” she couldn’t help asking.

“When I first met you?  For sure.” His gaze darted away.  “But it’s crazy.  Between you and the kid… I’m startin’ to think there’s more to life than good food and bad laughs.”

“Really?”  She and the child had made such an impact on him?

“I know.  Don’t tell Papyrus.  He wouldn’t believe you, anyway.” He winked.

“My lips are sealed.” She smiled.

Silence hung between them.  It should have felt awkward, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn away.  In the end it was Sans who yawned in her face and then hurriedly flipped back onto his other side.

She laughed, and clearly she was exhausted too, because she pressed a kiss to the back of his skull without thinking.

He froze.  She froze.  There was no way to play that off gracefully.  And there was no way she could fall asleep and pretend that it had not happened.

“Heh… those didn’t feel very sealed to me,” he finally rasped out.

It took her a moment to process what he meant.  Meanwhile her embarrassment only burned hotter.

“I am so sorry—”

“I’m not.” When he rolled back to face her, his face was bright blue.  “You’ll still be here when I wake up, right?”

His question was tinged with desperation.

“Of course,” she answered automatically, despite the many responsibilities that she would have to attend to in the morning.  She was the Queen once more.  If she had to, she could adjust the schedule of meetings and speeches to accommodate… this.

Whatever this was to be.

“Remind me in the morning,” he squeezed her hand, “that this is real.”

His hand quickly went limp.  She was worried for a moment, before she heard the faint snore escape his nasal cavity.

She gave him a fond smile, and allowed her own eyes to close.  She did not know if sleep would come or not.  She did not know what challenges the new day would bring, or what old challenges would continue to rear their heads.

But she did know that she was not alone.  For tonight, that was enough.

[laryna6]

More of the ‘alien attempts to convince human to become co-monarch of the dead and also defend humanity together in an eternal partnership, humans make assumption that someone pulling out all stops to convince human to ‘protect my kids with me’ is after a romantic partnership specifically’ ‘verse:

I was like ‘would there be angst when Sung Jin-Woo is wondering why Ashborn hasn’t set a date yet?’ and then I realize that his family thinks Ashborn is courting using Korea-specific traditions, so it makes sense that a being from another planet would not have a fortune-teller knowledgeable in the stars around this specific planet on tap.

Or actually, according to another source, the groom sends a doc with his astrological data and the bride’s family proposes the date since like, there’s extra stuff that has to be taken into consideration on their side.

So maybe it’s after the initial meet-the-parents and also have their first supervised meeting that Sung Jin-Woo’s going ‘hey I need the moment of your creation down to the hour in terms of both earth calendar and the seasons on your planet and like whatever info you can give me on what the movements and locations of local celestial bodies would have been at the time relative to that planet and images of where stars would have been as seen from the planetary surface - that sort of thing, as much as you can of that. Also have you got any constellations or significance attached to any of that.’ And there probably is given the ‘fragment of brilliant light’ thing and that the creator that is Ashborn’s parent came from the stars, so like, the approach vector??

And then obviously asking Jin-Ho to find the person to do the calculations, so like. Someone is going to get paid enough to be set for life for trying to figure out what is a good day for two spirits to be united with each other and also heaven and earth when there are two earths involved.

Research astrology, or actually research theology, since we’re dealing with one god of light and law-> god of the dead and one human -> god of the dead. Jin-Ho would absolutely manage to find someone happy to be working on that sort of problem.

Thankfully the fortune teller will be able to correct them that SJW needs to be the one wearing blue and Ashborn wearing red. SJW also asked Ms. Selner to help them out with it.

Traditional Korean marriages are very family-centered and Sung Jin-Woo is a very family-centered person and takes commitment seriously, so he’d probably dot the is and cross the ts for all the parts of traditional ceremonies insofar as that is possible rather than taking any cues from current Western/Christian marriage practices since on a ritual level those are committing to a relationship between three parties (individual + individual + god or government) rather than two people + their families (in the context of the worlds and spirits they’re connected to). Igris’ people probably have some eternal commitment/blood (sap) brotherhood ceremony he’d try to incorporate to cover Ashborn’s side of things since the rulers themselves don’t have a marriage tradition.

...since his understanding of ‘marriage’ is ‘2+ beings swearing eternal partnership where they share a domain and shelter and maybe create other beings together and also join together’ Ashborn would probably go ‘yeah that is absolutely the human word for what I am going for here.’

So Jin-Woo going ‘so is this a good day and time for us to get married and just to be sure is my apartment going to be okay to do it?’ and Ashborn is ‘well for you to become my equal and ascend to your power as a fellow death-god your soul will need to enter my shadow but there’s no reason you can’t do that from your apartment’

They work out that Jin-Woo does that, then Jin-Woo summons Ashborn as a shadow so his actual spiritual body isn’t there since it can’t survive on earth yet and they do the human ceremony of commitment and exchange of vows.

Next problem is wedding invites, and actually Il-Hwan is in communication with rulers in canon so he probably CAN ask them to come and WILL in case of any funny business. But there’s limited space in apartment, so two of them are going to have to attend from inside Go Gun-Hee and Thomas Andre, who is going to take up a ton of space as it is.

Wedding invites include a date for a meeting sometime in the previous two days so Jin-Woo can explain what’s going on so nobody freaks out, throws down, and wrecks the building. Mom goes ‘do you want me to come help explain’ and Jin-Woo is ‘ILU mom’

Homosexual marriage is not legal in SK, and although a marriage between a man and a genderless being is in fact a heterosexual marriage it’s probably still not legal, but Sung Jin-Woo’s only interest in laws and regs is ‘how do I keep them from getting in the way while I do whatever I want’ so he probably does not give a solitary damn what the government thinks of his marriage status, but GGH might be ‘oh heads up someone vital to this country’s survival is marrying a genderless person so you might want to recognize that as a thing to make sure you don’t piss him off’ and like, every country wants s-ranks so getting Ashborn docs is trivial. They’re probably even accurate.

So media is now blowing up because marriage of most powerful hunter is Big News and ofc they are pissed since it is actual canon that when when Sung Jin-Woo holds a press conference it is a sign of the end of the world. So they have to settle for AhJin guild’s press releases and whatever Go Gun-Hee and Thomas Andre feel like saying. And they are both benevolent bastards.

Ok, so... staying at bride’s house for three days after ceremony...

Couples are supposed to control their emotions and be somber and reserved during ceremony, fortunately for Sung Jin-Woo. It will be clear that they are both taking this as a Very Serious Commitment.

Korean weddings are two families becoming one as well as the two people, so like, the rulers are now Sung Jin-Woo’s Family, as well as him being grateful to them for saving his dad, so.

Ceremony is begun by entrance of The Moms. If Sung Jin-Woo gets informed re. Ms. Selner containing a piece of the creator, he absolutely will hit up the US to borrow her. She is a grandma, in the peaceful timeline at least, so presumably she is a mom.

Problem: since Ashborn has the yin element, does that mean ceremony needs to take place at his family’s place? Either way, after the ceremony at the bride’s family’s place, there’s a second ceremony at the groom’s family, so to an alien planet it is. Dates and chestnuts are supposed to be offered by the guest family at the second ceremony, and dates and chestnuts only grow on earth, so that works with the first ceremony being at SJW’s apartment. With pomegranate seeds added to cover adoption of undead children.

I was thinking SJW googling ‘marrying a god’ traditions to find things he might want to incorporate so make this ironclad? But like, a professional has been hired, so.

I was like, SJW planning a honeymoon since hosting Ashborn on earth? But like, SJW would absolutely go ‘best place on this planet is my apartment with my family’ so the fact that’s the traditional post wedding thing is just ‘yes perfect.��

‘Spend time with my family, spend time with Ashborn’s family, kill everything that poses a threat to our families‘ is optimum scheduling *nodsnods*

[crowsmybeloveds]

Shadow and Bone Series: Chapter Two

In Cold Blood

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x Reader

Summary: The Crows continue to visit Y/N at the Emerald Palace, and make some interesting developments.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Implied suicide (don’t take it too seriously hint hint); abuse; Pekka Rollins; again canon typical violence/slave stuff (this time it’s described more, but again nothing graphic); the Menagerie;

A/N: Thank you so much if you liked the first chapter!!! This one is a little longer and I promise the end isn’t as bad as it might seem.

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~

Jesper Fahey liked to do his own thing. Sure, as a member of the Dregs he had to listen to his boss and go on jobs, but he loved his free time in between. Hence, he often avoided going on little arends for Kaz at all costs. It would be a waste of his time.

Jesper Fahey was now talking to Kaz. Volunteering for an arend. For the fourth time this week.

Kaz, Inej, and Jesper had been visiting the girl in the basement regularly since their first meeting with her. Kaz chalked it up to business, the girl and her potions were powerful assets, but the other two would admit they had found a new friend.

There were rules to these visits. First, only go during the day. Even if it seemed counterintuitive to sneak there in the broad daylight, Y/N insisted she would be unavailable in the night, as that was when her “work” was done. Also, if you are there, you must hide well behind the crates, and remain armed. You were lucky every time you made it out of there alive.

It was a daunting task, but Jesper was always up for it.

“You’re going to go there again?” Kaz asked him, eyebrows raised, “You know it’s Inej’s turn, correct?”

“Yes, and I also don’t care,” Jesper answered, “Also, she probably has things to see, people to do, and whatnot. I, on the other hand, have my whole day cleared. And I couldn’t deprive the lovely basement girl of this face.” He smiled, pointing to himself, “I mean, come on.”

Kaz stared at him, seeing through his antics in a minute. Jesper had taken a liking to the girl. What will happen the day he visits to find she’s not there anymore? Kaz thought. His hopes are too high.

“Fine, Jesper,” He agreed, “but be careful not to draw attention.” He scrunched his nose. “Do your best not to dawdle.”

“Right, I’m off then!” Jesper exclaimed as he clapped his hands together and ran off.

“I’m going tomorrow!” Kaz shouted after him.

The sharpshooter knew his boss was suspicious of his actions, but in all honesty he didn’t care. Normally he would have thought there wasn’t much spending time with her could do, as she had told him many of the same things over and over. That must have meant she had told him all that she knew. But Jesper was not going for information, he was going to be with her. He liked to think they were friends.

Jesper was often distracted. Whether he saw a pretty person to flirt with or a table to gamble at, he always found a way to not be doing whatever he was supposed to. Everything around him was so appealing and stimulating, especially in the Barrel. Even so, he sped down the streets without a single double take or second thought as he headed to the Emerald Palace. He really wanted to see her. So bad it was addicting. At first he thought that maybe the girl was drugging him, seeing as that is her particular expertise, but soon he realized that he just liked her. She was funny, and she laughed at all his jokes. She was also so intriguing. So powerful yet rendered powerless. He was enchanted, but he knew something was missing. It seemed it wasn’t her fault. He wanted to help.

That day when he arrived at the window (after making sure no one could see him, of course) Jesper saw Y/N sitting against the wall with her legs hugged to her chest. He called her name softly, and waited for her to reply. She didn’t reply, or even move. Against his better judgement, he shouted louder, risking being discovered by one of Pekka’s crew. He didn’t care. He banged the windows. Praying she would say something. Or turn her head. Or nod. Anything. She didn’t. A single tear rolled down her face.

Y/N had been sitting there for three hours. There wasn’t much to be said about what had happened. Only that she did not remember, whether her loss of memory was intentional or not. It was an off day, that’s all.

Jesper was panicking. He had no idea how to get her to wake up. That is, if she was asleep. Truthfully, he did not know what was wrong with her or what to do. Unfortunately, his noise making had roused a different group of people. Jesper had to run down the alley as he heard shouts coming his direction. He ran the rest of the way home, still in shock. He was not haunted by his near escape with the Dime Lions, but the look on the girl’s face. What had they done to her?

“And she didn’t move at all?” Inej asked. Jesper had just explained to her what happened after he showed up to her room at the Slat. She hadn’t appreciated being woken up from one of her rare naps, but she didn’t complain when she saw the look on his face.

“Not that I could see,” he replied, shaking his head, “Inej, I swear she could hear me.”

Inej did not know what to say. This kind of behavior was not usual for Jesper. He had his normal amount of energy, but it was not often it was all directed to one place: worry. It was odd that something upset him and he did not distract from it by going to gamble or making a joke.

“I just, if it were you I’d understand, but who could ignore me?” he said, “Going unnoticed is not a Jesper talent.”

There it was.

“You’re deflecting” She called him out, “It’s not funny. We should tell Kaz.”

“That's not funny,” Jesper replied, “what is Kaz gonna do? Tell us to stop talking to her?”

Inej sighed. It’s possible that he would advise that. But he also wouldn’t just let Pekka Rollins keep his most dangerous weapon. Especially not when she didn’t seem to have much loyalty. She had told Inej so many times. The girls had a bond due to the Menagerie, and Y/N told her much about her past and present. She explained different chemicals she had made and plans she had heard to Kaz. But with Inej, she explained how she felt about them.

Y/N hated every second in that basement. She had told Inej as much. Repeatedly. But she was rather scatterbrained. She repeated herself often and forgot things that she had already been told. She would forget what day it was and what she had done the night before. Inej had experience with trauma and sleep deprivation enough to shrug this off. She didn’t want to cause her friend anguish by questioning it.

The incident Jesper was describing made her think that maybe she should. Y/N was smart. Hell, she was a self taught Grisha fabrikator. So good, she could kill people from miles away. How could she be so forgetful? Someone so scientifically gifted must have a better mind than that. Someone must have been messing with it.

After some convincing to Jesper that Kaz would not kill or give up on Y/N, the pair made their way to their boss’s office.

“I was waiting for this to happen,” was Kaz’s response.

“What, that’s it?” Jesper raised his voice, “You have nothing else to say?”

Kaz glared at him from his desk. “I don’t know that you thought through your attachment to her, Jesper. You should never have assumed she was on our side.”

Jesper stared bullets at his boss in front of them. They seriously weren’t going to help her at all? She needed to get out of there, he knew that for certain. If it wasn’t because he cared about her then it should be because she is an asset. A good investment. Saints, he hated calling her that.

He didn’t say any of this, however, and instead started to walk out of the office. Just before he was out the door, he heard Brekker speak up.

“I’ll go and see her tomorrow.”

When Kaz Brekker reached the girl’s window, he gave it exactly seven taps with his cane, with a very specific beat. It was a signal he had made with Y/N so that she knew to open the window and talk to him without him having to raise his voice.

The girl turned toward the window at the sound. She set down the bottle she was currently working on and walked over. Kaz started speaking as soon as it was opened.

“How long have they been drugging you?”

Y/N scoffed, “Hello to you, too!”

“How long?”

“Um, never?” She replied, getting confused. “They don’t drug me with anything. I’d notice. That’s kind of my job description.”

Kaz looked to the side, thinking. The only way to explain her odd behavior, forgetfulness, and calmness in her position was that she was being manipulated. And because she was constantly making poisons and “potions” for Pekka, it made sense that she was being given her own drugs without her knowledge. He had thought this since he’d met her. She had to be on some sort of relaxers when he first saw her. Why else would she have so willingly opened the window for strangers?

“Why did you ignore Jesper when he was here yesterday?” He asked, hoping to get the information from her in a more roundabout way.

“I didn’t?” Y/N asked, “Inej was here yesterday, she got those vials of knockout gas you asked for.”

Kaz squinted at her, “Y/N, that was two days ago.”

She shook her head, “No, no, because I was working on those just yesterday and I just finished them when she stopped by. I haven’t seen Jesper in a couple of days, Kaz. Are you feeling ok?”

Kaz wasn’t sure how to react to this. She had missed the whole day? He was sure things like this had been going on this whole time, but never in the month since they began speaking with her has she forgotten a whole day. She had to have taken something.

“Are you self medicating?”

“No! Why- what are you talking about? What is going on?”

“Y/N, Jesper came here yesterday and you were sitting in that corner near catatonic. You wouldn’t speak or even move.” Kaz informed her.

“He must not have shouted loud enough, I was probably asleep.”

“You normally sleep with your eyes open?” He is tone was sharp. “Jesper said you were crying.”

She didn’t respond. She was shocked out of her mind. It was possible Kaz was lying to her to get some sort of information out of her, but it didn’t seem that way. He looked uneasy, the kind of unease that comes from not knowing something. He was a very smart man, and when something did not make sense to him he got nervous. So, this must have actually happened. And if she could not remember it, something was terribly wrong.

“I’m sorry, Kaz. I just don’t remember.”

“Fine. Then I need you to stop eating the food they give you. I’ll have Inej stop by with something to eat during the day.” Kaz paused, thinking. “And I would like to get you out of here, and have you join the Dregs. I just have to figure out how.”

“No, Kaz. I can’t leave.”

“Why? You have loyalties to Pekka Rollins?” He asked, anger clear in his voice.

Do I? She thought. While she knew his treatment of her was unfair, she wondered whether or not she still cared about him. In her time at the Emerald Palace, Pekka had told her many things about how he was the only one who would ever care for her. He claimed that he had saved her from the Menagerie, and he was taking care of her because he loved her. He also said that he would help her find her sister, often claiming that the potions Y/N was making was helping him follow leads about her.

When he started bringing men down into Y/N’s room, she was only a teenager. The first man that had ever touched her in that room also told her information about upcoming trips, which Pekka used to choose the perfect time to rob his house. Y/N felt disgusting in her skin ever since, but Pekka reassured her. I’m sorry , canary. I’ll protect you. Those men are not like me. While any sane person would call giving her food and shelter supplying her basic needs, Pekka called it courtesy. A gift because he loved her. A gift that could be taken away. He let men take advantage of her just so she could get him information, and then called it love. And she believed him. Until one day.

A man had come down into her room, which was usual for her on any given night. However, this man started out rough and stayed that way for the rest of his visit. She had tried her best with past men to get as much information as she could through simple flirting and drugging, but he was not there for small talk. For a brief moment, she considered saying no. In the moment following, she remembered what happened the other times she had done so.

She didn’t get any of the information she had been asked to draw from the man. Pekka was livid. The argument following had been explosive and painful. Not just emotionally.

“This isn’t love.” She tried to say it in a firm voice, but it came out broken and weak.

“How could you possibly know?” Pekka replied.

“Because you don’t deny it.” She said, summoning the strength to look up at him. “The men who come down here sometimes mention their wives. They might not be the pinnacle of married men, but I know they would never do this. This is bad for me.”

“Oh, is it so bad for you?” He raised his voice. “And who is going to treat you better, hm? Who out there would possibly care about you like I do?”

She turned her back to him. She sniffled as she cleaned up her worktable, silently hoping he would just leave.

He grabbed her arm, whipping her around to face him. “I don’t care if you hate me. You will stay here because of Anais. You will stay because you need me.”

The memory was scarring.

Kaz watched as Y/N got lost in her own thoughts. His voice startled her out of her memories. “Y/N, do you have loyalties to him?”

“My sister, Anais.” She breathed. “He is helping me find my sister.”

“Is that all?”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I need to find her. Have you ever had any siblings?”

Kaz paused for a moment. The comment seemed to toy with him. “No.”

“Then you don’t get it. I want to be with people I belong with. To figure out where I’m from.” She sighed. “Pekka is helping me with that.”

“And he has proven that he is actually doing so?”

“He said that he knew she was involved with the slavers who took me away. He is getting in with them to try and figure out where they took her.”

“Y/N, I don’t think he is actually doing that.” Kaz said, shaking his head. “This is your reason for staying?”

“And I have nowhere else to go!”

Kaz took a deep breath. He had decided what he was going to do for the girl since the day he met her. She was an asset. With her power he could complete jobs and gain kruge with record speed. Not to mention, if Kaz had her on his side, Pekka didn’t. The sweet taste of revenge covered his tongue just at the thought.

“I have an offer,” he began, “You come with me. Not now, but soon. I’ll come everyday to ask questions and we’ll plan your escape. In the meantime, you gather your things discreetly and try to find as much dirt on Rollins as you can.”

“But my sister -“

“If you are a part of the Dregs, you will help when asked, but the rest of your time is yours. Look for your sister, gamble your money away, take up baking, — I don’t care. You’ll be free.”

The offer was good. Great, actually. So why was she hesitating? Was Pekka’s manipulation really enough to make her turn away an opportunity like this? I don’t know.

And what about Kaz? Could she really trust him? The man wanted her for her powers, too. How was he different from Pekka? In her limited experience, he wasn’t. I should stay.

But Jesper. In the short while she had known him, Jesper had become her favorite part of being alive. And Inej, who was the kindest soul she had ever encountered. If they were with Kaz, he couldn’t be the demon he tried to be. At least not like Pekka. I should go. I should have gone a long time ago.

“Deal.”

In the weeks following, Kaz came every day to discuss every aspect of the Emerald Palace with her, in the hopes that he could get her out. Getting her out of the building would be simple, but keeping her from being hunted by the Dime Lions for the rest of her days would be complicated. The plan would have to be completely airtight, so Kaz needed time.

A few days later, Jesper was at the window speaking with her. The other members of the dregs would often visit along with Kaz and stay to talk to her, or they might come in his place. Today, after describing her entire tailoring process to Kaz, Y/N was speaking to Jesper about music.

“It’s like this huge golden machine made by Fabrikators, right?” Y/N smiled as she excitedly spoke. “And you take this small disc, place it on the machine and put the needle on it, and then music comes out!”

Jesper grinned at her. He loved the way she looked when she was excited about something. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen one before.”

“Well, it’s wonderful,” she sighed, “Not to mention there’s thousands of the disc things, and each one is a different song. I wish more people had them than just the rich men who can afford it. I mean I wish I could have one.”

The two had been known to discuss things that had nothing to do with her escape, which Kaz had scolded them for plenty of times. But they enjoyed talking to each other, and they often got distracted. Odd topics of discussion were bound to happen whether they liked it or not. However, when Jesper realized that they had strayed from their original reason for speaking, he redirected the conversation.

“So, you get tailored nearly everyday?”

“Well, whenever anyone comes to see me. Only Pekka knows what I really look like. And you and your friends. Maybe it's a security thing.” She told him, thinking as she spoke. “Also, if anyone sees me who isn’t supposed to, I’m meant to drug them so they forget. Pekka really just does not want anyone knowing I’m here. Some bastard might try to steal me away.”

Jesper smirked at her. “I cannot imagine who would ever do something like that.”

Visits were going relatively well. Kaz had nearly enough information to finalize his plan for her escape, so he visited less and less. Y/N was becoming a solid member of the Crows even though she had so little time with them. She matched Jesper’s humor, built trust with Inej, and had a shared anger for Pekka with Kaz.

Today was Inej’s day to go visit Y/N, and she was running rather late. She knew the girl had mentioned not to visit after the sun went down, but Inej had been busy all day and could only find time to make it to the window after dark. When she got there, however, she realized why Y/N had made the warning.

When she looked through the window, she noticed that Y/N was not alone. When she looked closer, she realized Y/N was with Pekka Rollins. Luckily, Inej was the Wraith, she could watch what happened next without being seen.

“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to eat your dinner,” She heard Rollins speak first, in the most condescending tone she had ever heard. “Not after I worked so hard to get your favorite.”

Y/N sat on her cot, avoiding eye contact. “Not hungry.”

Rollins grabbed her by the jaw roughly, forcing her to look at him. Inej noticed tears shining in Y/N’s eyes. “Not hungry, hm? We both know that’s not true.” He laughed, with a terrifying lack of humor behind it. “Why are you lying to me, canary?”

The girl shook her head as the tears fell down her face.

“Your tears will do you no good.” Rollins snarled. “Do not forget what you are.” He paused, raising a brow. “What are you?”

The girl sniffled and didn’t respond.

“What are you?” He shouted and raised his voice this time, causing her to shake.

“A canary.” She whispered out.

“Good, and if I give you a song...”

He raised her chin higher, prompting her to finish his words. “I sing it.” The words fell from her lips like something rehearsed, but unbearably painful.

He gave a tight lipped smile. “Right. Don’t forget it again.” He sat down next to her and handed her the plate she had sat on the table beside her. “Now you eat and I’ll tell you about the man who is coming here tonight.”

Inej felt like she was going to throw up as she travelled the rooftops of Ketterdam back to the Crow Club. She knew Y/N was being mistreated at the Emerald Palace, but seeing it take place was something entirely apart.

As she walked in the doors of the club she felt a presence beside her. She looked over to see Jesper walking with her. He must have been guarding the door. He was waiting to ask a question.

“Yes, Jesper, I went to see her.” Inej spoke to him, her voice rough.

“And?”

“And Pekka Rollins was there.”

Jesper stopped in his tracks. “Saints, is she ok? Are you?”

“I’m fine,” Inej assured, “But I’m not sure about Y/N. He is anything but gentle with her. And he forced her to eat the dinner he gave her. I don’t think she’s gonna be able to avoid the drugs they give her anymore. If only she could remember to take an antidote before her mind goes.”

“Shit, we need to get her out of there, soon.”

The pair once again went to Kaz to discuss the girl, only to find him at his desk, writing furiously with two bottles in front of him.

“Kaz, Inej -“ Jesper was cut off.

“She told me how she’s been killing all those people.” Kaz stared at the bottle in front of him, observing it scientifically.

Inej and Jesper looked at each other before looking back at their boss. What was he on about?

“I don’t understand.” Inej had a confused look on her face as she tried her best to make eye contact with Kaz. She wanted to try and read him like she knew she could, but right now the man in front of her was like a blank page.

“Y/N. She gives them a liquid of her own design, but it isn’t poisonous,” He kept his eyes trained on his work, “At least not until she makes it poisonous. She can give someone poison hours in advance but it kills them right at the perfect moment. Right when she can get away. And, once they are dead, she can change it back to something nontoxic. It’s flawless: not a single trace is left.”

“Great, boss,” Jesper said, growing impatient. “Can we talk about why we are here?”

Kaz frowned, “What, because you want to get Y/N out sooner? She’s in a terrible situation?”

“Exactly,” Inej pleaded.

“If I tried to save everyone in the Barrel I’d be broke by dawn.” Kaz said, looking back at his work. Inej and Jesper stood there in shock. “If you don’t have anything else to say…”

Inej placed a hand up to keep Jesper from exploding. “Kaz, you told us that you would help her escape.”

“I needed information, Wraith, you wouldn’t help me if I told the truth.”

Jesper spoke up, “So you lied to us? And what did you tell her?”

“Nothing. She’s prepared to leave the Emerald Palace tonight.” Kaz tsked. “I doubt she’ll make it two feet out the building without our help. Solves all of my problems.”

Without another word, Inej slipped out of the room, leaving the boys to fight. Through the walls, she heard muffled shouting.

“How could you? You act like you have nothing you believe in but really you are so terrible that you’ve made yourself your own Saint!” Jespers voice was desperate, filled with rage. The betrayal he felt was clear even though he was muffled. He sniffed. “Put too much faith in that saint and he’ll kill your friends.”

Inej cringed, hating the harsh truths her friend was sending toward her boss. She had always known partnership with Kaz would mean conflict, but it also meant freedom. She and Jesper often commented on their cold-hearted boss. “We are both too good for him.” Jesper would laugh as he said it, but now it seemed to be a reason to leave. But where would they go? When it came to Kaz Brekker, no one was better, and no one was worse.

One thing was for certain, Inej was not going to let her friend die. She had just pulled Y/N up from the grave, and she’d be damned if she let Kaz Brekker push her back in. If he was so certain the girl would be dead by tomorrow, she’d get to her before then. She didn’t have time for Kaz’s lectures and Jesper’s shouting. There was a life at stake. She begged the Saints to help her, but deep down she knew that this was up to her and her knives. If Inej couldn’t save Y/N, the Wraith would.

When she reached the Emerald Palace, a nauseous feeling spread throughout her stomach. She willed her hands to stop shaking, but the tremor remained. She reached the window after carefully checking her surroundings and gasped at what she saw. Nothing remained in Y/N’s room but a white letter and dark ash, both standing out against the gray stone floor. Inej frowned in confusion. So, she is gone. Where could she be?

Y/N was a smart girl, she could be out of Ketterdam by now. However, she had barely had any human contact and had been drugged and manipulated for years. If she was not already found by Pekka Rollins, she could have already been killed on the street. But no one knew who she was, and only Pekka and the Crows knew what she truly looked like. She had become one huge question.

Suddenly, Inej remembered something.. Specifically, a conversation she had with Y/N not long ago.

Inej, this might be the worst thing I’ve ever made. She had said, a fire in her eyes.

Then why are you smiling? Inej replied.

Look! Y/N had pulled a thin glass bottle of a swirling liquid and a small flower out from behind her back. She then poured a drop of the bottle on the flower, which disintegrated into a pile of ash within seconds.

Saints. Inej was amazed.

Wild, huh? Footsteps came from the stairwell in the corner of the room. Shit. Inej, go. Inej hesitated. Go! He’ll see you!

Now, looking at the large pile of ash on the floor of the room, Inej realized what had happened.

“Saints,” She whispered, tears forming in her eyes. “She’s drunk it.”

She heard footsteps approaching in the alley, and immediately grabbed two of her knives, ready to protect herself.

“Easy,” Jesper appeared, holding his hands out toward her. “It’s just me.”

Inej lowered her knives as she stared back at him. “We’re too late, Jes. She’s gone.”

He laughed, nervous. “No, she wouldn’t.” He lowered himself down to the window. “No.”

Inej stood up and looked up at the stars, praying to any Saint that she could think of that she wasn’t dead. That her friend was out there somewhere. Alive. “Jesper, we need to get out of here.”

“But,” Jesper paused, his voice weak. “She was just here.”

“She’s not anymore.” Inej looked at him with pity. She could tell how much the girl had meant to him. “I’m sorry.”

“She was just here.” He repeated, voice cracks littering his words.

Inej grabbed his hand, forcing him out of this frozen state. “I know, Jes. I’m sorry.”