#now draw frost getting hit by a bus

[erminecore]

I really liked @doodledrawsthings’s A Hat in Time “Coffee Shop AU” idea… but also got me to thinkin. What if Vanessa’s poison was rather more immediate, so she had time to gloat, and so poor Luka had to deal with the idea of coming home to Harriet as a big snakeghost… who won’t recognize him at all?

--

“I’m not here to talk about custody.” Vanessa says, her smile angelic, perfect. She flicks a strand of hair from her shoulder, just to complete the illusion of the person Luka thought she’d been.

Luka’s emptied cup hits the saucer with a clatter. His nerves, which were screaming at him the whole time, rise to a fever pitch. He sharply stands, his stomach rolling, his hands hitting the table with the clatter of cutlery - but if anything, Vanessa’s smile only widens at the show of frustration. “...If this isn’t about custody, then what is this about?”

Vanessa laughs even as Luka’s stomach winds knots like dancing snakes, even as he bends double with the roiling pain of it. She laughs even as he hit the floor, his arm coming up to grip the tablecloth for support - and failing, his nerves turning to jelly, his muscles screaming as if melting under an acid kiss. “Oh, Luka. You should really know better by now. I’m here for revenge.”

From his vantage point on the floor, Luka gets a good view of the tableware as it comes crashing down around him. Forks and knives twirling like dangerous silver dancers around his spinning head, the graceful fall of a teapot in slow motion… but it is his own cup that, rolling to a stop near his arm, that draws his attention. In the tea, he sees the same purple, the same stain that is creeping down his arm - the purple of night, of pouring ink, of scribbled over legal documents and things gone wrong. Luka is aware, painfully aware, that he may be dying.

“What,” he rasps, aware of the spasming of his own arms, of the distant sound of his shirt tearing. His entire body was nothing but a ball of fire and nerves, somehow nebulous, but growing longer all the time, growing larger. “Have you done to me, Vanessa?”

In response, Vanessa stands - perhaps was always standing. Luka doesn’t know. His sense of time, of continuity, is near shattered. But he sees her perfect pink shoes, ribboned and sweet, as she walks over, and deftly kicks the cup away.

“I never wanted the child, you know.” Vanessa says, her voice full of spite. “You should have known that. I just wanted to make you suffer - to remind you whose you were.”

Luka tries to speak, tried to form the words to tell her just how awful she was, just how awful she still is. But the only sound that comes out is a soft gurgling, a pained wheeze. It’s like trying to breathe through a straw. His hands come to his neck and he feels them - large and clumsy, clawed and fumbling, two fingered, inhuman.

“You know? I don’t think you’ll be winning custody now.” Vanessa says, her voice sweet and pleasant. As pleasant as when she cut his hair while he was sleeping. As pleasant as when she told him to choose between her and Harriet. As pleasant as when she told him to stop talking to his tutor at law school. “No one would give a child to a monster like you.”

“You’re the monster!” Luka manages to spit, coughing up something black, something wretched onto the carpet. He forces his gaze upwards and yes, Vanessa’s glaring at him, glaring, but smoothing her face quickly, tightening it into a smile just like always…

“You think so?” She says, with a little chuckle, reaching into her pocket to pull out a silvered hand mirror, no bigger than her palm. It shows very little. But what it reflects nearly stops Luka’s heart.

Glimpses of black, of yellow eyes like a lantern, of fangs lit by an endless glow set above a gaping maw. He’ll never work at a law firm again - he’ll never fit in a law firm again. A long slithering tail where his legs should be… it is no wonder he cannot feel them anymore.

“You always were a little snake, my prince…” Vanessa croons, her eyes twinkling even as the monster in the mirror begins to cry. “Now the whole world will know.”

“...How could you? How could you?!” Luka sobs. He’s not thinking about Vanessa. He’s thinking about poor Harriet. He’s thinking about his job. He’s thinking about his life, in tatters. About the child he has to support. About the case he has to win. How in the world is he even going to get through courtroom doors like this? How is he going to navigate the formal attire required to be his own lawyer? What, is he going to just wear a tie on the day of the hearing and nothing else?

“How could I? How could you?” Vanessa snaps right back, crossing her arms and glaring, glaring as if Luka’s the one in the wrong. “You took my heart and ran away with it! You left me, alone, all alone in the world over a child!”

Luka sees frost beading at the edges of Vanessa’s clenched fists. Sees the tears of fury in her eyes. It explains everything. Magic? Magic. God, of all the people in the world to have magic, it has to be his ex…

“Now you understand, though, don’t you?” She says, her smile smoothing crookedly, uneasily over her face. Jagged lines and uncertain swoops. “You’re mine. Mine and mine alone. You can’t go anywhere else. No one else will accept you. No one will love you, not like me. That wretched child won’t even recognize you now.”

Vanessa reaches down, her pale hands coming to caress Luka’s cheek. Her fingers are still icy, horribly cold, all the worse on Luka’s freshly burned skin. “There’s nowhere else for you to go…”

“...I…” Luka whispers, shivering, trembling in her fingers. He sees her eyes widen. He sees the hope there. It’s the old hope, the hope he fell in love with, the light that was brilliant, that drew him in like a moth to the flame. God, he’d loved her so much, when he first saw her look up from her books, when he saw the boredom drain from her eyes to be replaced by this fire…

But that was then, and this is now.

“...I’m going to be pressing charges.” He hisses, pressing his hands into the dirt, scrabbling, sliding, slipping away into the night, however he can. He doesn’t think about it, can’t think about it - to think about it is to not be thinking about the furious howls of rage behind him, the wintry blasts of ice that shatter and smash tree branches above him - flash frozen in an instant.

Somehow. Somehow he gets away. Hauls himself up to a park bench somewhere, puts his head in his hands. Somehow, he finds a moment to think, but there’s only worry, only the same burning fear, over and over.

“She’s right.” Luka whispers, the horror dawning on him. “There’s no way the kid will recognize me now.”

--

He said he was only supposed to be an an hour, maybe two.

Luka had never been home late before. But, then… he usually didn’t make appointments this suddenly either. Not the day of, not thirty minutes before. But… it was with Harriet’s mom. So maybe that’s what made it special?

Harriet wasn’t supposed to know where, or with who but… she’d kind of listened in. Heard the phone call. It was… easy enough to pick up the details through the shouting, even without poking her head through a crack in the door. Subcon park, eight pm, sharp. They were going to talk about things. Talk about her.

It felt like the only thing anyone ever talked about anymore was her. But not in the way Harriet liked. Not talking about how brilliant she was, or how bright, or what she brought home from school. Talking about who she’d be happier with. Where she belonged. Who owned her.

Luka still talked about how bright she was, of course. How brilliant, how beautiful. But when he spoke about it, he was always… defensive. Or tired. Harriet wasn’t sure which one was worse.

Harriet… isn’t supposed to go out late. Or alone. But her dad is really, really late now. Maybe… maybe he got lost? Maybe it’s time to go look for him, to make sure he’s okay…

Harriet checks her phone again. Still no calls, no texts, nothing. Except, exactly as she’s looking the phone lights up, with a text from her dad -

“Dad

11:48PM

idmworot994 w”

-and nothing else. Not even the usual “Sorry I forgot it was in my pocket, kiddo!” that her dad always sends after scrambled texts. That seals it. He really must be in trouble, or he wouldn’t be so sloppy and un-Luka like…

Harriet snatches her hat from the hatstand, grabs her coat, and rushes out of the front door, into the night, unaware of the bright yellow eyes anxiously following her the whole way…

Luka follows along behind his own daughter, clumsily, awkwardly, anxiously, his body ribboning through the trees like an eel. He feels horrible doing it, but who else will keep an eye on her? Except, now he’s the embodiment of everything that he’s warned her to be afraid of in the night, the very essence of a “stranger.”

How is he going to be able to talk to her? How is he going to warn her about Vanessa, Vanessa who is even now, on the prowl, hunting for the both of them?

He waits until there is light, at least. A light and a bench and… hope. It’s risky. But he can’t wait any longer. He calls out, his voice rasping, low. Will she even recognize it?

“Hey, kiddo?”

Harriet jumps nearly out of her skin, starting back from the light - gazing around wildly into the night. She sees nothing. Just trees, darkness… and two glowing yellow eyes, suspended above a grinning mouth.

“M-monster!” Harriet shrieks, fear tingling up her tiny spine as she scrambles for the bench, crawling under it, losing her hat her haste to take cover and hide. Trembling like a leaf, too scared even to cry…

Luka feels his heart fall out of his chest to shatter on the cold ground below. Wasn’t it just like this? When things started getting rough. When him and Vanessa started fighting, and he had to turn the whole house upside down just to find the poor kid cowering under the bed…

Vanessa was right, of course. He doesn’t see any recognition in Harriet’s eyes. For the first time, he is a stranger, someone new, someone terrifying. Someone awful - a monster. He can’t blame her for hiding. But it still hurts him, leaves a sucking wound that sinks down to the pit of his soul, a chasm that might never heal…

“...H-hey, I’m not gonna hurt ya.” He chuckles, clumsily flopping down from the tree tops. The ground is hard, and the impact is harder as he lands in an ungainly heap. But the little giggle Harriet gives is worth it, even if the humor is lost as he shakily pulls himself into the light. “Don’t you recognize me, kiddo?”

Nothing. No reply, no recognition. Not even a response. He’s raised his kid well, even if it’s to his detriment. Don’t talk to suspiciously friendly people. If anything, she crawls further under the bench, keeping a wary eye on him. Luka sighs, running a hand over his head. Of course… it wouldn’t be this easy.

He spots the forgotten hat, lying on the ground, and reaches for it, stretching his arm far, grabbing it - and in that moment, when his eyes shift, Harriet makes a run for it. Smart girl. But he sees her hesitate, as he’s lying there with her favorite thing in the world. In response Luka slowly lifts up his girl’s favorite little topper, smiling forlornly.

“Come on Harriet. It’s me, Luka. I know it might be hard to believe right now but… don’t you recognize your father?”

Harriet stops. Not because she believes him. But because those words are familiar. Because when she was under the bed, sobbing her eyes out because her parents were splitting over her, over her… her dad had leaned down, with that same, forlorn smile, and had said…

“Come on, Harriet. I know it might be hard to believe right now… but it’s going to be okay.”

...In that same tone of voice…

“...D...dad?!” Harriet whispers, leaning down to take the hat, her eyes practically boggling. “What happened to you?”

Luka just laughs. That nervous, over-loud laugh he does when he’s losing a case, and pulls himself closer, wrapping around his daughter for a hug. Harriet tenses under him for the suddenness, the strangeness of it - but she doesn’t try to run. Instead she holds him back, comforting and being comforted at the same time.

“I have no idea. But we need to go. It’s not safe with Vanessa still around.”

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [6]

Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

➜ Words: 7k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

➜ Notes: I know it’s not Christmas or even remotely winter, but in the timeline of the fic, it is. I hope you guys don’t mind.

cr.

Sometimes when Jungkook doesn’t hear from you for an extended amount of time, he wonders who you’ve found to terrorize now.   But he doesn’t have to wonder for a long time since you always find your way back to him, plopping down at his table at the dining center during breakfast when he’s mid-conversation with Jimin, sitting beside him during the lectures and online shopping on your laptop when you’re supposed to be paying attention, texting him to ask how you pop a pimple on your back….   The list is endless. You weasel your way into his life until it’s almost natural. Like you’re Hoseok or Taehyung.    And that extended amount of time where he wonders whose life you’re ruining decreases from days to hours to minutes until he eventually stops pondering altogether, knowing that it’s his life you’re destroying and no one else's.    “So I’m guessing you didn’t completely bomb the tempering chocolate part of your final.���   You look over at him with a raised brow. “Who told you?”   “You would’ve screamed about it over text if you did.”   “Hmph.” You tear your eyes away from the dark-haired man, continuing to scrub your dishes beside him. “That’s right. I did well, no thanks to you.”   “Excuse me, I think it was through our failures that you learnt the most.”   The kitchen is still bustling with kids cleaning up after themselves. The two of you are beside each other, washing your own dishes. You hate that Jungkook’s sharing a sink with you, but he complained there was nowhere else to go, and you figured kicking him somewhere else would’ve been more work.   “I’ll admit, it was the motivation to destroy you and win that got me through it.”   He scoffs as you smile mockingly at him, finishing the rest of your dishes. “Are you almost done with all your finals?”   “I have one more tomorrow and I’m finished. You?”   “I’m done with all of them.”   “Wow, are you trying to brag, you little shit?”   Jungkook grins. “Look, I—”   He’s interrupted by the vibration of a phone.    Jungkook quirks a brow, knowing full well there’s not supposed to be any phones in the kitchen. It’s a dumb policy of your teacher, but a policy nonetheless.   You pout at him, pulling the device out of your back pocket. “I’m waiting for a call, alright?”   Luckily class is over and there's only cleaning to be done, so you don’t get into trouble for turning around to answer the call.   Jungkook continues to wash his plates and bowls, minding his own business. But he inadvertently catches the conversation.   “Hey….yeah….I’m good...uh-huh. I have an exam tomorrow and then I’m off for the rest of the month until the second week of January.” You’re speaking in hushed whispers, arm hugging your body as the other presses the phone to your ear.   You peek over your shoulder and Jungkook looks away right in time. But out of the corner of his eye, he sees you frown and whip yourself back around into the corner.    “What do you mean? No, mom. I...broke up with Jin, remember? I’m not—…..what? Are there any more tickets?” There’s a long silence. You release a frustrated sigh, pressing your hand on your forehead. “Can’t you cancel your trip then? Or find a way….”   There’s yet another pause. Jungkook can vaguely hear voices on the other line.    “So you’re just going to leave me behind?” His ears perk when your voice cracks like you’re going to cry, or maybe you’re just angry. Jungkook can’t really tell. “Well, what am I supposed to do for three whole weeks? There are no classes, mom. I don’t want to spend Christmas by mysel—Fine. Fine! Have it your way!” you spit in a whisper that’s loud enough to draw the attention of your other classmates nearby too. “You have fun on your little trip then. No—don’t talk to me! I’m hanging up.”   You remain there for another ten seconds and Jungkook watches you hang up, sliding the phone into the pocket of your apron. He looks at you fast enough to see how your eyes are glossy and diverts his vision, not wanting to embarrass you or put you on the spot.   “Trouble in paradise?”   “There’s always fucking trouble in paradise,” you mutter. “Nothing ever goes right for me. Whatever.”   Jungkook put the dishes away with you. He decides to address the elephant in the room, clearing his throat. “I, uh, couldn’t help but hear…so what’s gonna be your plans for the break?”   “I don’t know.” You sigh again. “I’ll probably just stay here. Work on some stuff. Learn a recipe or two or maybe get a head start for next semester. You?”   “I’m going home. We’re not really religious, but my entire family usually gathers for the holiday for gift exchange and to eat and stuff,” he says, trying not to rub salt all over your wound.    You nod. “That sounds nice. Have fun.”   There’s tense silence again, merely the noise of bowls and plate clanging as you put them back where they belong. But Jungkook is unable to move from the conversation. His thoughts brew in the forefront of his mind.   He knows it’s unnecessary, that he shouldn’t, but his conscience compels him otherwise.   “You should come with me.”   Goddamn. Jungkook hates himself for being such a good person. Why can’t he be as cold as Yoongi? He’s gonna have to ask the man how he does it.    But Jungkook also knows if it were him who just got dumped by his two year long girlfriend, he wouldn’t want to spend the holidays at this damned, empty institution by himself.    “Pardon?” You give him that look of yours, like you’re disgusted or confused. He’s not sure which one it is in this context.   “You should come with me.” The words leave Jungkook’s mouth before he can consider what he’s exactly offering. “Spend Christmas with my family.”   “What?” You shake your head. You’re not appalled, merely perplexed at why he’s going out of his way to propose something so big. “Why would I do that?”   Jungkook shrugs. “You don’t have to. I just think you shouldn’t have to stay here by yourself.”   Your expression softens. “Won’t it be weird?”   “No, my parents won’t mind. Taehyung and Jimin actually spent Christmas with me two years ago and that was fine. You don’t have to stay for the entire break, but at least for the holidays….”   Jungkook knows that expression — the nibble of your bottom lip, the way your brows knit together. You’re touched by his hospitality and benevolence, but hesitant as you consider it, even though you want to.   “There’s no pressure,” he says and quickly adds, “I wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself when I put the ornaments on the tree better than you can.”   All at once, you make a noise between a scoff and a laugh. It bubbles out of your throat and makes him smile. “How does someone put ornaments on the tree better?”   Jungkook shrugs. “Someone without a sense of aesthetics wouldn’t know.”   Your mouth curls. “Is that a challenge, Jeon?”   “You have to come to find out.” He smirks.   “Okay, sounds like a plan then.”   Jungkook grins, ruffling your hair with his hand until you swat it away. “We’re leaving in two days. Get packing.”

If you told yourself half a year ago you’d be lugging a suitcase and backpack to Jeon Jungkook’s parents’’ house, you would’ve laughed and then called the psych ward to pick up an insane girl in your dorm room claiming she’s from the future.   But you guess in the recent months, insane things have been happening to you one after another.   You’ve been on the bus for five hours now, slowly making your way up north where it’s icy and snowy. You only get to stretch out your legs at a rest stop for about an hour.   “Took you long enough.” Jungkook pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on, eyes flickering down to a bag you’re holding. You notice his stare and you move the bag behind your back. “I thought you went to the bathroom. Went shopping on the way?”   “It was just a souvenir I picked up. A lame key chain for the occasion. How much longer is this gonna take?”   “Well we’re halfway through, so another five hours give or take?”   “Oh my god.” You sigh while stepping outside. The snow hits you at once and it makes your cheeks numb in the frost. “My ass is so sore.”   “You’re the one talking.” Jungkook rolls his shoulder. “My shoulder aches from your heavy head.”   “Hey, it’s your fault for stealing the window seat.”   “I didn’t know you would be sleeping four out of the five hours.” He sighs with a small smirk, feigning frustration. Yet Jungkook’s the first to climb onto the bus.    There are people all around, napping, playing games. You put your souvenir bag into your backpack, sliding it back onto the overhead bin before you look down at the boy who’s settled in his seat in spite of his complaints, looking out the window like he’s having thoughtful contemplation and there’s something in that empty brain of his.   “Are you not gonna give me the window seat?”   Jungkook turns his head, arm propped up on the rest. He flashes a brilliant smile. “Why would I?”   “So your shoulder doesn’t have to be sore anymore, Jeon.”   He hums a low note. “Nah. I’m good.”   You scoff. “Your call.”   You plop down, immediately lolling your heavy head onto his shoulder. You try your best to lean your entire weight on it, as heavy as you can, and you shut your eyes and cross your arms to continue your nap.    Jungkook mutters how bratty you are and it only makes you smirk in satisfaction.   Eventually you’re shaken awake when you arrive at the destination five hours later and your ass is sore beyond belief. Your eyes are bleary as you try to rub them awake, squinting out the window to look at the small town covered in snow.   The white is blinding and it almost overflows into your boots.   You pull your suitcase behind you with your backpack on your back. Jungkook drags his belongings with him too. “Where to now?”   “It’s a fifteen minute walk. Think you can handle it?”   “Yeah.”   Even if it’s cold enough that your fingers are curling in on themselves and snot is dripping down your nose, it’s still better than being by yourself in your warm dorm room with nothing to do.   The town is quiet, not in an eerie fashion but serene. The houses are twinkling with strung lights, puffs coming out of chimneys, people through the windows putting up ornaments or gathering around the fire. This place is the perfect Christmas movie setting, small shops and friendly folks. You wonder if this is where Jungkook grew up.   “It’s this one.” Jungkook stops on the sidewalk suddenly. It’s house one two three at Imlings Avenue, a cozy looking home with a giant front yard and two cars on the curb. You can hear the festive music already.   As you roll your suitcase up the shoveled walkway, hearing the wheels roll, you become increasingly nervous. It’s odd — even if you and Jungkook are friends now — you’ve never met his family before. You’re a stranger to them and you’re probably unwelcome considering this is just a family affair…   “Wait.” You linger back. “Jungkook—”   But it’s too late.    He knocks before he can hear your voice. And the door swings open.   Oddly, you don’t see anyone….until you tilt your head down. There’s a little girl in a red and green plaid dress, her black hair in pigtails. She looks up at Jungkook and bats her lashes. A wide grin spreads into her chocolate stained cheeks and she throws herself onto him. “Kookie!”   There's a stampede of steps and you hear multiple voices. “Yeonjun! He’s here!”   “Oh my goodness, have you been eating well? You look so thin! We’ll change that.”   “Kookie! Kookie!”   “There’s food in the kitchen, son, go have some.”   “Or get some rest if you’re tired. There’s plenty to do, but that can get done later.”   “Okay, okay.” Jungkook laughs and turns around to see that you’re still standing outside. He quirks his head to the side. “Are you going to come in?”   What ensues is one of the most awkward moments in your life. There’s sudden silence, and then two or three sharp gasps. You manage a smile, looking down at the floor as you step into his house.    The door shuts behind you, solidifying your position here.   Your eyes flicker up. There are two kids, an older lady that resembles Jungkook but with wrinkles creased at her features, and an older man, aged like fine wine and with Jungkook’s doe eyes.   “Hi. I’m Y/N. S-Sorry for the intrusion. I really...appreciate your generosity for letting me stay.”   Jungkook smiles softly and plops his hand on your shoulder, gesturing to each person. “Mom, dad, this is Y/N. She’s my friend and, uh, classmate I told you about. Y/N, this is my grandma, my uncle, my aunt, and my two cousins, Lia and Eunbi.”   He goes over them so fast, you’re reeling.   Lia grins a toothless smile, arms politely behind her back as she sways from side to side. “I’m seven, nice to meet you.”   Eunbi, the one who opened the door, spreads her hand in front of you. “Five!”   “Nice to meet you.” You nod.   But instantaneously, your hands are taken by the old lady. Jungkook’s grandma, despite her entire head of hair being stark silver, has her irises shining with newfound energy. “It’s my pleasure, sweetheart. Please, come in. Take off your coat.”   “How long have you known Jungkook for?” his uncle suddenly asks, wearing a blazing smile as well like he knows something you don’t.   “Umm….actually, we went to high school together.”   “Really now?”   “We weren’t close though until...until recently.”   “Jungkook.” His mother shakes her head in disapproval. “You didn’t tell us your friend was a girl.”   Oh god. Now he knows what’s going on and why they’re treating you like you’re a prized possession. “It’s not like tha—”   His aunt completely jumps the gun. “How long have you been dating Jungkook for?”   You choke on air, taking your hands away from Jungkook’s grandma to pound on your chest lest you die this pathetically. Jungkook’s eyes bulge from their sockets. And Lia is old enough to understand and wrinkles her face. “Ewww, are you guys gonna end up kissing?”   “No! No.” He takes a deep breath. “Y/N is a friend. She’s just a friend.”   “I-um, sorry if there’s been a misunderstanding.” You back him up. “I’m not dating him. Frankly, I can’t handle someone like Jungkook. B-Because he’s too great,” you quickly add, not wanting to insult their son in front of their faces when they were already inviting you into their home.    It’s so awkward, you want to run outside and faceplant into the snow and die from hypothermia. “We’re just not like that. Never.”   “Yeah. She’s a classmate. A friend. Like Jimin or Taehyung.”   “O—kay then.” Jungkook’s mom breaks the tension with a warm smile. “Well, we shouldn’t dilly dally here all day! Jungkook, you can take your suitcase up to your usual room. Y/N can have the one down the hall, the guest one—oh no, dear, you don’t have to carry it.” She stops you when you grab your luggage again. “Jungkook can do it for you.”   “A-Are you sure?”   “Of course. He has to make himself useful somehow. Make yourself at home! Lia, Eunbi, want to show Y/N the stockings you made?”   “Yeah!” Lia grabs your hand, leading you away. You glance at Jungkook and he has a tight lipped smile. But the moment you turn the corner, he’s bombarded by his family members' curious stares.   “Are you sure she’s just a friend, dear?” his grandma croaks. “She’s awfully pretty.”   “Are you in the process of courting her, son?” his dad inquires. “Let me tell you, when I courted your mother, I did all sorts of things to get her to like me, so if you ever need advice—”   “You learnt how to drive a motorcycle and almost killed yourself with it,” his mother chides.   “I’m glad he didn’t.” His grandma turns around, deadpanning, “Your funeral would’ve been a terrible embarrassment to the family.”   “I remember that. You stole from me to get that motorcycle and never paid it back,” his uncle pipes up, and his dad ducks his head behind his mom.   His aunt laughs and pats his uncle’s chest. “Now, now, let’s not get ourselves worked up.” She turns, addressing the real issue in the room. “Jungkook, is Y/N really just a friend?”   “Yeah.” He stops, having ignored his family and struggled to carry the suitcases across the living room. Jungkook doesn’t know how many times he’ll have to insist his relationship with you is platonic, but out of everyone he knows his aunt is the most understanding and convincing. If she believes it, the rest will too.    “She’s just a friend. Actually, she….recently broke up with her long-term boyfriend, so…...yeah, um, and she’s my internship partner and I felt bad that she was spending Christmas by herself….”   “Well then, that’s fine. Friends are as valuable as any other kind of relationship. I think your mother and everyone else were just surprised that you brought a girl home.”   “She was going to spend Christmas by herself?” his grandma asks, surprised by the mere idea of it.   “Yeah, I think she was supposed to spend it with her boyfriend’s family but they broke up, so…”   “Well then I’m glad you invited her! No one should spend the holidays by themselves. Poor girl.”   “The more the merrier!” his uncle proclaims.   “But you still should’ve told me it was a girl,” his mother chides with her hands on her hips. “I would’ve gotten her a suitable gift!”   “Friend or not, I don’t want any shenanigans under my roof, Jungkook,” his dad warns. “You’ll both be sleeping in separate bedrooms.”   The mere idea of it has him frowning. “Of course!” Jungkook says as if it should be obvious.    He lugs his suitcase and yours up by himself while wondering what if you brought actual bricks with you.   It hasn’t even been ten minutes in this house and Jungkook already has a headache.   //   Not even an hour at the house, you and Jungkook are thrown into a truck with his dad and uncle to go buy a Christmas tree at some small market.   Your hands dug into your pockets as you walk alongside each other, finally able to get a breather.   “Sorry about them. Did they ask a lot of questions?”   “Only about my education, how old I am, what my parents do, my hobbies, if I have siblings, if I’m religious, where I grew up, and oh yeah, my plans for the next five years.”   “Sorry,” Jungkook repeats with a sigh. He knew they were overbearing but this is really something else.   You giggle. “It’s okay. Just felt like a job interview. I’m just happy they’re so welcoming. Your family’s really nice, Jungkook.”   “Yeah. Mostly. My mom can be pretty crazy. My grandma can be hysterical — same with my aunt. And my uncle and dad can be short tempered.”   “Every family has their fair share of crazy.”   “You could say that again.”   You stop to point at a tall, luscious looking tree. “That tree’s pretty nice, huh?”   “I think it’s too big for the house.”   You keep walking. “I’ve actually never gone looking for a tree like this before. Certainly not a day before Christmas Eve.”   “Really?”   “Yeah, my family usually uses artificial trees.” You smile at the memory. “Oh, Jin’s family uses a real tree. Usually it’s already decorated when I get there though—……” It takes a moment for you to realize what you’re saying. “Never mind.”   Jungkook glances at you. It falls into silence and he can see you brooding in your thoughts. He then taps your shoulder. “What do you think of that tree?”   The boy points to a small one that’s drooped over. “It’s so….sad looking.”   “Hmm, like you, right?” Jungkook laughs hard when you shove him. He catches himself before he faceplants into the snow.   “God, you should be lucky I love your family or else I would kill you.”   “As if you even could.”   “Don’t test me, Jeon.”   “Hey, kids!” His dad shouts, a few meters away. “Come help your uncle and I with this one. It’s a good one!”   Once it’s paid for, you all haul the tree into the back of the truck.    You muse that you’ve truly never done this before as you watch Jungkook’s mom screaming as all the men try to shove the tree through the front door and the tree losing nearly half of its pine needles, shedding to the carpet.    But finally they manage to get it inside without much damage done and all that’s left is to decorate. You help pull out old boxes from the cottage and Lia shows you the noodle ornament she made in class. “Look!”   You’re genuinely impressed at how intricate it is. God knows your talent was in baking and never in arts and crafts. “Wow, it’s really pretty!”   “Thanks.” She grins and you pick her up so she can slide it on at the very top.    You try to hold Eunbi too so she can put the star topper on but when your arms begin to shake with the weight of the five year old, Jungkook takes over for you. He puts her on his broad shoulders so she can lean over to do it. And you’re finally able to race Jungkook to put the rest of the ornaments up, and find out who’s the true Christmas master. But you don’t get far into the game when his grandma waddles over and starts complaining that he was bunching the candy canes too close together.   “When you kids are done with that, come outside. We’re going to put up the lights,” Jungkook’s dad says as he carries a ladder with his uncle.   Though once you’re actually outside, dressed up from head to toe in Winter gear, there’s not much you can do. You watch as Jungkook climbs the ladder while you hold the bottom rung to steady him, but his uncle ends up telling him to get down when he nearly slips off the roof.   “Imagine if you actually fell…”   The both of you looking up, squinting as you observe the old men bickering to one another about how to string the lights on. “You’d probably laugh and use my body for a ritual to summon a demon, huh?”   You turn to him, deadpanning, “How’d you know?”   What follows is snow hurled to your face and a shriek of his name. “Jeon Jungkook!”   Your body shakes with rage and you collect a snowball in your hands. But he takes cover in the backyard behind a tree, giggling boyishly like he’s four years old. “You coward! Come here!”   You chase after him at full speed, but he runs, laughing even more. You smack the back of his coat, but there’s no effect so you gather another one, patting the snow firmly to chuck it. You wish you had ice shards, so you can put it in and attack with full force.   You sprint after him before taking a leap, jumping onto his back. Unfortunately, your plan in tackling him doesn’t work. Jungkook doesn’t waver, knees not even buckling, but you adapt and slap the snowball to his face. He laughs, shaking you off and you fall onto your ass. It’s one bad thing after another considering you’re not fast enough to run away — and he chucks another one to your face.   Your aggressive shouts and Jungkook’s laughter draws the attention of the kids because they come out all bundled up in toques and scarves, cheeks overflowing above them. They march out in snow pants and thick coats, ready for battle.   “Be careful!” Jungkook’s aunt shouts from the porch before running back inside to hide from the frost.   “I wanna play! I wanna play!” Eunbi hops while Lia runs and falls back, making a giant snow angel.   “Come here, Eunbi! Come here!” Jungkook motions her over and she waddles. “We’re gonna get the evil witch!”   “Excuse me?!” you shriek and it makes the both of them giggle. You tell Lia to help you and she’s old enough to understand your instructions, making snowballs with you quickly as she laughs hysterically and tries to chuck them at Jungkook to no avail.   Lia is hit a few times by her feet, while you’re smacked straight at the neck, freezing snow melting down your shirt inside and making you cry out in agony. You try to smack Jungkook with one but then he holds Eunbi up so she can take the hit.   “Are you seriously using her as a shield?!” you scream at him.   “You gotta do whatever it takes to win!” Jungkook laughs like a maniac as his human child shield giggles along.   You’re unable to hit him at full capacity, but you get the upper hand when you tell Lia to sneak around. She shouts she’s going to the bathroom while you continue to fire light snowballs uselessly. But when the seven year old walks around the gate instead of going inside like she declared, she smacks Jungkook at the back of the head with a snowball, catching him off guard.   “Hey!”   At that moment, you rush him, trying to shovel snow down his coat. But his reflexes are too good. He lightly tosses Eunbi down on the fluffy surface and she laughs, making snow angels and Jungkook wrestles you. “I think not, witch!”   “If I’m a witch, you’re the grinch—!”   Jungkook successfully tackles you down, but you manage to rub snow all over his face, making him spaz.   In the meanwhile, his grandma, aunt and mom watch from the window, laughing hysterically. And the men up on the roof are speechless. “What are they doing?”   “You know how the youngins are.” They exchange a meaningful look, wishing they still had that same amount of energy.   //   Jungkook is a fucking lucky bastard — sometimes you can’t fathom it.   Not only does he have a great group of friends, but his family is amazing. He really has it all.   You find out his dad is an absolute airplane enthusiast, and he even shows you his aircraft collection of small planes he gathered over the years. He’s knowledgeable on all the models and tells you about a realistic flight simulator he’s planning to set up. His mother, on the other hand, can paint like a genius. The artwork in the living room that looked expensive was ones she painted and when you found out, your jaw dropped to the ground.   Everyone in his family also knows how to play chess ridiculously well and everyone seems to know how to play some kind of instrument. Jungkook’s grandma is teaching Lia piano, his aunt plays violin, his uncle is dedicated to guitar and Jungkook tells you he used to sort of dabble in drums.    You wouldn’t be surprised if he turns out to be a musical genius.    The gene pool of the Jeon family is just too strong. You can’t handle it.   And it’s no wonder he’s good in the kitchen. Everyone in his family is spectacular at cooking. You nearly start crying at dinner because of the sheer delicious taste of every dish presented in front of you. You thought you were in Heaven.   After dinner, there are games, and everyone calls it an early night to prepare for Christmas Eve the next day.   By the afternoon of the eve, the adults all leave for last minute Christmas shopping while you and Jungkook stay at home to babysit the kids.   “What are you two doing?” You approach said children when you finally snap out of the Charlie Brown Christmas special playing on the television, remembering it’s for the kids’ entertainment and not yours.   The both of them at the small table, scribbling on some paper. “We’re writing letters to Santa!”   “Oh, is that so?” You look over to see the chicken scratch. Eunbi can’t write yet so she draws pictures. “Wow, looks good. What does...this say?”   “It says cooking stuff, silly!”   “Right, silly me,” you laugh, endeared at how she wrote it as ‘Kooking’ like Jungkook’s name. “You want cooking stuff for Christmas?”   “Yeah.” Lia nods enthusiastically. “I saw on tv this oven and you get to make stuff and stuff.”   “Oh. You mean Easy Bake Oven?”   “Yeah!” Her drawing isn’t bad for a seven year old. “What do you want for Christmas?”   “Me?” You hum, considering it. “Maybe an A for my pastries class. What about you, Eunbi? What do you want Santa to give you tomorrow morning?”   “Chocolate!” she shrieks with laughter.   “She always wants chocolate,” Lia tells you listlessly.   “Candy! Cookies!”   You grin, lowering your voice like you’re about to tell them a secret. “Do you want to make cookies?”   All at once, there’s a change. Eunbi gasps. “Yeah!”   And Lia’s hand stops scribbling. “Can we really?”   You shrug. “I don’t see why not.”   It can’t be too hard.   But you’re sorely, sorely mistaken.   The moment you preheat the oven, Lia opens it and tells Eunbi to climb in — but you shut that down real quick, joke or not. When you melt the butter and turn around for one second, you come back to find Eunbi drinking the butter straight from the measuring cup.   Her lips greasy as she grins. “Yummy.”   “Oh my god—” You collect them together, keeping a reign for both kids. Calming down, you try to show them how to crack the eggs, but they’re clumsy and you end up having to fish eggshells out of the mixture.   As you’re cleaning, you hear a thump. When you whirl yourself around, the floor is coated in white. The flour bag is upside down on the ground.   “Uh-oh.” Eunbi giggles.   Lia’s hands are covered in the all-purpose flour, but she points to her younger sister. “She did it! Not me!”   You take a deep breath, mustering your patience. “It’s okay.”   But it’s not okay.   Not when they put in a cup of salt instead of sugar and you have to scoop it all out. Not when you wash their sticky fingers, clean their faces, and open drawers to look for a spatula to fold the mixture, but you hear giggles instead. Not when you slowly turn around to see them mixing the batter with their bare hands.   But with a sigh, you give in. Some of their techniques are physically painful to watch and make you cringe, but as long as they’re having fun, you’re not going to stop them.   Or at least until Eunbi sneezes straight into the batter.   “Okay, alright, let's not do that.”   “Can we eat it?”   “Eat it? You mean raw?”   Eunbi is already taking the cookie dough by the fistful. “Yummy!”   “Not too much.” You cringe as you watch them taste it. “You might get sick! Hey— Jeon Eunbi, take your hand out of the chocolate chip bag!”   The five year old grins, cherub cheeks rosy as her eyes glimmer with mischief. But after all the trials and tribulations, you finally get the tray of cookie batter into the oven.   In the meanwhile, Jeon Jungkook comes downstairs with a towel draped over his shoulder. His hair is still damp but he came down at the ruckus. He stops at the doorway of the kitchen, freezing as he regards the surroundings. “I left for one shower.”   “We made cookies, Kookie.” Lia grins with a milk moustache, sitting on the counter with her sister.   “They’re almost done,” you tell him sheepishly. “We’ll clean up soon.”   He hums as he looks at the floured floor and the sink overflowing with dishes. He wonders what happened. They’re just cookies — but it looks like a battlefield.   You approach him with a mug. “I made hot chocolate.”   “I thought chocolate was your nemesis.” Jungkook smiles, taking the cup. He notices the floating marshmallows and happily sips.   “I can melt it,” you chide. “I know how to do at least that much.”   You can hear giggles from the girls and at this point, you know it means they’re up to no good, so you turn around with your brow quirked. Jungkook is curious too and Eunbi answers the unsaid questions when she points above you both, right at the doorway.   “Mistletoe.” Lia laughs. “Eww, are you guys gonna kiss?”   You look at Jungkook, and he frowns. His expression wrinkles like he just bit into a lemon. “Gross.”   “Gross?! Excuse me?!” You loll your head to the side. “I’m gross to you?”   The boy grins. “Yeah. You are.”   “Give me back that hot chocolate.” You try to grab at it, but his reflexes are fast. Jungkook moves the mug out of the way and then above his head where it’s out of your reach.   “Nuh-uh. Finders keepers.”   “But I’m gross, aren’t I? You wouldn’t want to consume something made by a gross person.”   “I’ll make one exception.” He brings it down and quickly chugs the steaming hot chocolate.   “It’s hot, you idiot!” you shout, but like the masochist he is, he downs it all with a groan.   “Delicious.” Jungkook grins, wearing his milk moustache with pride.   You shake your head. “You’re ridiculous.”   He helps you clean and when the oven timer goes off, the scent of freshly baked cookies fill the home right in time as the adults arrive home. All twelve chocolate chip cookies are inhaled at an instant and you muse how the entire Jeon family has sweet tooths.    You share a cookie with Jungkook and it’s delicious for the disasters you had to go through.   The evening eventually settles in and they tell you about the family tradition of getting in ugly Christmas sweaters and taking a family photo. You’re touched when they show you the sweater they got, one in neon red plastered with dogs and cats in Christmas hats. Jungkook’s has batteries and physically lights up, and you can’t stop laughing.   “I feel like a tree.”   “You almost look as pretty as one, Jeon.”   It’s cute when they waddle together in front of the fireplace and you wonder what it takes to have a family like this. “What camera are you using?” you ask. “I can take it for you.”   “Oh no, dear. Don’t be silly! Come in, come in!” Jungkook’s grandma motions you over.   His uncle moves to a cabinet. “We have a tripod!”   But you hesitate. “Uh, are you sure?”   “Why wouldn’t we? If you spend Christmas with us, you’re family. Get in here!” His mother moves aside. “Stand beside Jungkook.”   Everyone shuffles, creating a perfect slot for you to join with the Jeon family. Jungkook even slings an arm over your shoulder, giving this biggest and most boyish smile of life. His uncle clicks the button and runs to his spot. The light begins to flash. “Everyone! Say cheese!”   With one snap, the moment is engrained forever.   Dinner is delicious like last night and it feels like you’re being stuffed like a pig. Your stomach nearly bursts at the seams and you would fall into a food coma if not for how Jungkook drags you along to go caroling with the rest of his family.   “I’ve never been caroling before.”   “Yeah, well, it’s something my grandma likes to do. She used to do it when she was young and she freaks out if any of us say we don’t want to go. Personally, I don’t like caroling. It feels like I’m a car salesman harassing people.”   You know what he means when he’s swaying from side to side awkwardly on some stranger’s lawn while his dad knocks on the door and everybody else waits for it to open. Jungkook looks out of place. But the minute he opens his mouth to sing Silent Night — it’s fucking angelic.    You’re shocked, like you found out the devil actually has a halo above his head.   The lady and her child thank you all for the song and while walking, Jungkook finds you staring intently at him. “What?”   “Since when did you sing?!”   “I don’t.”   “How can you say you don’t?! You literally sound like perfection.”   The sudden praise makes laughter bubble out of his throat, a cloud of condensation emitting from his parted lips. His aunt turns around with a smile. “That’s what I’ve always told him. I’m glad someone else can recognize it.”   “I remember when Jungkook was just a small boy,” his grandma pipes up. “He sang so well, knew all the lyrics, and all the neighbours were so surprised. He was so cute, even the grumpiest of grumps would be melting because of him.”   “Remember when he would start crying if he didn’t get the main part or had the harmony?”   “God, can we not talk about this?” Jungkook cringes.   But you grin. “No please, keep going. I’m so curious now.”   “Well one winter…” His mom hugs your arm, leaning into you like she’s sharing a secret. “He peed himself but didn’t want to tell anyone because he was scared caroling was going to be cut short and it ended up freezing in his pants. Poor child got a butt rash afterwards.”   “You peed yourself for caroling?” you ask incredulously.   “I don’t recall,” he deadpans.   “Oh, he used to pee himself all the time,” Jungkook’s dad clarifies. “There was an incident on a plane—”   “That’s enough of that.” He puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes you forward at a fast pace. You laugh as the two of you walk way ahead of the rest of his family and how Lia and Eunbi begin to sing-song that Kookie’s a bed wetter.   Despite being out in the cold at night, you didn’t know your Christmas would end up so warm, surrounded by people who treat you as one of their own. You feel lucky. Privileged to be part of it.   The rest of Christmas Eve is spent around a fire and the tree until it’s lights out at nine. It’s early again since the adults know that the kids will end up making it an early morning the next day. So with cookies and milk left out, you bid your goodnights. But their predictions end up exactly as said after many years of celebrating the gift-giving holiday together.   Right at five thirty with the sun barely risen, you’re shaken away by Jungkook.   “What’s going on?”   Your bleary eyes blink and you rub at them. Jungkook’s tender grin and sparkling eyes are the first thing your vision focuses on. His hair shags over his forehead as he stares down at you. “Get up, sleepyhead. We’re all opening presents.”   “It’s so early,” you whine, but he tugs the covers off anyhow and helps you stand on your feet.   Jungkook ruffles your bed head. “I know.”   The two of you make your way downstairs. The adults are already hugging their coffee cups while Lia and Eunbi tear up their gifts that Santa left them. Christmas melodies are turned on for background noise, and there are hugs and gasps given during the exchange of presents.    You’re given one too.   “For me?”   “Yes, we managed to pick up something yesterday for you, dear. If Jungkook had told us beforehand he was bringing such a nice friend, we would’ve gotten something better.”   You open up the box to find a red, wool scarf. The texture is soft and it looks warm enough to protect you from the cold Winter wind. You’re touched beyond belief. “T-Thank you, I love it.”   “We’re glad.”   “I-I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”   “Please, your presence is more than enough, sweetheart.”   “I got this for you, Y/N!” Lia comes over with a piece of paper. “Eunbi and I drew it yesterday, well I did most of the work, but she drew you. Thanks for spending Christmas with us!”   “I love it. Thank you.”   Jungkook watches with a gooey smile. It’s good to see you like this — for once not moping around or crying after some guy that didn’t know your worth anyway. But what he catches him off guard further is when he’s tugged away into the hall by you.   Your arm extends, holding a bag haphazardly.   “Sorry, I forgot to wrap it,” you mutter, barely coherently. Your vision is diverted elsewhere, looking towards the ceiling so you can spare yourself the embarrassment of how he’ll react.   But if you looked, you’d see that Jungkook’s grin could almost break his face. He takes it. “Isn’t this the souvenir you got at the rest stop?”   “Well, I lied. It’s not a souvenir. Open it.”   He does. Quickly. With much anticipation.   You lean over to watch him.   Inside the bag is a box. Jungkook tears it open to find a simple, white mug. But across the surface in black text, it’s written ‘Jungkook — World’s Best Chocolatier’.    “I found an engraving place. Took ten minutes. It’s nothing. But see? I can be thoughtful. Sometimes…”   You pause. There’s silence so you look at him to gauge his reaction. His face is blank, hard to read. Damn. You had second thoughts in the moment but you didn’t think he would hate it this muc—   Suddenly, you’re being hugged.   Jungkook has his arms wrapped around your shoulders, and he pushes you into his chest. “I fucking love it, you witch.”   You smile, a rush of air leaving your nose. “Glad you like it, grinch.”   He muses that you’re the most softhearted witch on the planet.   Jungkook can’t yet pinpoint the reason why, but he knows without a doubt that this is the warmest Christmas he’s had.

[imaginesupply]

Warm me up - Loki x Reader imagine

Alright, so after complaining that no one had yet written a Loki imagine that included cockwarming, I decided to write one myself. Be aware that it’s 2am in Paris, that I haven’t written anything in ages and that English is still not my main language, so please forgive any weird wordings or mistakes you might find in this. I did proofread it, but you know…

I also feel like I messed up Loki’s portrayal?

Includes: Jotun!Loki, mild cursing, mild smut, very minor angst, fluff and ugly pajamas.

Word count: About 2800.

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Waiting impatiently for the elevator to take her to the second highest floor, she clutched the pillow tighter to her chest, trying to stifle a yawn.

Tony had texted her as soon as they'd gotten back from some overly complex mission that wasn't even taking place in this realm - if she'd correctly understood while eavesdropping on the team, that is, given that Loki tried to keep her in the dark most of the time because apparently her life expectancy was already 'frighteningly short' and he refused to do anything that could potentially shorten it even more. There had also been a part about  him wanting to get his hands on one of those 'incredibly sneaky Idunn apples’ but she wasn’t sure what that meant.

Maybe he could try learning how to text, that would certainly make her live longer and a lot more stress free, she mused.

Right now, she was just overly excited to see him again for the first time in eight days. Tony had told her Loki was exhausted and had gone straight to bed upon their arrival. She couldn't help but find it a little bit odd - usually he'd go straight to her room five floors below when he came back from a mission, but she tried not to worry too much.

The elevator came to a halt and she was hurrying to his room before the doors had even fully slid open. Her feet slipped on the polished floor, her socks not allowing for much grip but she was sure it was worth the risk of a bruised bum if it meant she'd get to Loki a few seconds earlier.

"Hey fluffy socks!" Tony called after her when she passed him in the kitchen. She had hoped he hadn't seen her since he was staring into the open fridge but apparently Iron Man had eyes on his butt or something.

For a split second, she considered ignoring him but he was her boss after all, and a very generous one at that, allowing her to live in the tower.

"Yes?"

Now that he had her attention, he first drowned his full tumbler of Scotch before actually speaking to her. Couldn't he just say what he had to say?

"Are you going to see Loki?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. Was he seriously asking her that?! Why else would she would she be running in the hallway at 2 in the morning in her pajamas?

"Right, stupid question, sorry. Look, we ran into some unforeseen complications and Loki, well..."

"Was he injured?" She blurted out instantly, eyes wide with fear but to her relief, Tony quickly shook his head.

"Not really. There are no wounds but he had to use a lot of that weird seidr of his to get us out of there and now he - he is... feverish?"

She could hear it in her boss' voice that he was unsure of his own choice of words. A fever? But Loki was an alien God or a Frost Giant or whatever, surely he couldn't get a fever?

"Okay. Thanks for the heads up!" She replied way more cheerfully than she actually felt, hoping Tony wouldn’t stop her if she looked okay.

It was with a sense of dread that she now walked the rest of the way to Loki's room. Once at his door, she was surprised he hadn't locked it and - wait! Was that ice on the handle?

Pushing the door open, she let her pillow fall to the floor as she was met with an unexpected wave of cold that immediately had her chilled to the bones. What the hell? Whispering for FRIDAY to turn on the small night lamp, she was startled by the state she found his room in, but most importantly by what she found on the bed.

Loki was lying in bed, covers drawn up to his chin, only he wasn't in his Æsir form. "Shit!" She cursed in a whisper, stepping on the thin layer of ice that had formed on the floor until she got to his side.

His skin was a deep shade of blue but for the white intricate markings adorning it. Something was very wrong with him, she realized. His Jotun form didn't bother her. To be honest, she actually found him rather attractive like that in a weird alien sort of way. However, she knew Loki wasn't comfortable with that aspect of himself and he'd never revert to his Jotun shape unless he didn't have the strength to keep on his Æsir appearance.

Softly, she lowered her hand to his cheek only to hiss in pain as soon as her skin made contact with his. The tip of her finger had turned purple in the split second it had made contact with him. She had almost gotten frostbite just from touching him!

In a panic-induced rush, she hurried over to the control center on the charcoal painted wall and turned the heat to the highest setting. She knew he was colder in his Jotun form, but not that cold. She had touched him like this before, but she had found his lower temperature refreshing, causing her nothing more than a pleasant shiver.

The next step was the en-suite bathroom where she dropped some rags into the hottest water that would come out from the tab, and put some towels to warm up by the heater.

Humans were warm blooded but you had to cool them down when they had a fever. So, by analogy, Frost Giants being cold blooded, she had to warm him up, right?

In truth, she wasn't entirely convinced of her logic but it was the only solution she came up with. Quickly, she walked back into the bedroom, bending down at his side to place some hot rags on his forehead and around his hands.

"Loki?" She whispered worriedly when he didn't open his eyes, but his face remained unchanged, the small frown not leaving his features.

Carefully, she pulled back the covers only to notice he had managed to freeze his clothes solid. Not waiting another moment, she started undressing him which was easier said than done because one, he was still wearing his battle gear; two, although his clothes weren't as cold as his skin, touching them was still painful like holding a frozen snowball in her naked hands and three, he was a lot heavier than you'd expect from his lean body.

With clenched teeth, she managed to get rid of the layers on the top half of his body until she was met with his naked blue torso before unzipping his leather pants and pulling them down with his underwear.

Oh - oh! Well, that's certainly interesting, she couldn't help but lose focus for a second as she saw his Jotun body naked for the first time. I'll definitely keep that in mind next time things are getting frisky and he isn't quite literally freezing to death in front of me. With another hard pull - that drove her backwards with such force, it was a wonder her butt didn't collide with the floor - she managed to get him out of the rest of his frozen clothes.Now, I know why he always uses seidr to undress. Leather is pain to take off!

"Love... is that you?"

Tears of relief slid down her face almost instantly at the sound of his voice. "Yes!" She pretty much shouted before tiptoeing around the bed until she was right at his side. "Yes , Loki, it's me. How do you-?"

"You need to leave," he grunted between clenched teeth, trying to pull himself upright by the strength of his arms but not quite succeeding. "Now!"

She could tell his was trying hard to keep his crimson eyes open as he glared at her, as if hoping it would scare her away.

"I'm not leaving until you feel better," she crooned softly, hesitantly lowering her hand to caress his cheek. It was still way too cold but there was no longer a risk of getting frostbite.

Without a warning, Loki tried swatting her hand away, but his hand movement was much less grateful than habitually. He was actually shivering, she realized.

Resigned after lacking the strength to pry her hand away by force, he closed his eyes tightly, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath. "I don't want you to see me like this. So, will you please leave alone or do I have to make you leave?"

He had meant to draw her away by hurting her feelings, but she could see right through him - masking vulnerability with anger. In a sense, he did manage to hurt her feelings as her heart now broke for him. Was he so unused to people actually caring and looking after him?

"If I leave, I'll have to send someone else in to take care of you. It's your call, Loki." His red eyes opened wide at her threat and he immediately shook his head. "See? That wasn't too hard. Now, one more time, how do you feel?"

Loki groaned, obviously uncomfortable by the whole situation. "To use your midgardian slang, I feel like I've been hit by a bus."

She rolled her eyes at him, something she never dared to do when he was in his normal capacity because the only time she had dared to, he had responded by using his seidr to tickle her to tears. "I'm serious."

"Fine! I feel as if my body has been frozen from the inside."

Now that Loki was actually cooperating, she felt like they were getting somewhere. First, she made him drink a full glass of water and asked him if he was hungry but he only rolled his eyes at that. He's still Loki, after all.

The towels she had put over the radiator were now warm enough to drape over his body. Not waiting for his approval because knowing him, he'd play difficult, she pulled back the covers once again so she could wrap the homemade heating pad around his body.

He stared at her, brows furrowed in confusion, as she lifted, first his right shoulder, then his left one, to tuck the towel beneath them. How was she not disgusted by him, he couldn't help but wonder. Not only was he weak right now, but he looked like those monsters children were afraid of. And yet, he couldn't help the sense of warmth that washed over him at knowing that she accepted him whatever his heritage. That was more than he could say about his own father.

She continued with her task, trying to build a warm cocoon around him but she couldn't help herself from tracing some of the intricate silvery markings with her fingertips. A few lines ran from his chest down to his stomach, others only started at the level of his belly button and had more a twirl to them, leading straight to his -

"Oh, someone is happy, it seems," she chuckled when she noticed his erection standing proudly despite the cold. It actually appeared to be a deeper shade of blue than the rest of him, with a slightly upward curve.

Instead of seeming pointlessly embarrassed by his body's natural reaction, especially given the lack of disgust she had expressed, Loki actually looked rather smug. "Well, someone's is being rather handsy."

She huffed, somehow feeling herself blush as she looked at him. "Well, someone has been trying to help someone else warm up."

"Well, someone knows of other ways you can help someone warm up." Loki used the second that it took her to get his innuendo, to take her by surprise and pull her closer him, until she was pretty much straddling his body.

And then he kissed her. A gasp escaped her as his cold lips made contact with the sensitive skin of hers. It was almost like kissing an ice cube... but an ice cube that tasted of Loki, of mischief, of home. Only when his tongue prodded for entrance, did she realize what they were doing.

Pulling back a little to break the kiss that had her lightly panting as she carefully pushed his shoulders down into the pillow, she was quite certain he let out a little frustrated whine. "We should not be doing this," she admonished them both before sitting back on her butt, accidentally causing some very pleasant friction that had the, both moaning at the sensation. She had to bite her lower lip to keep her resolve, "right now, you are in no state for such activities."

Instead of coming up with a lokiworthy line, she watched as his face took on a focused look before turning into a frown. Was he seriously trying to seidr her clothes away right now?

"That's exactly my point," she couldn't stop her giggle as she bent forward to kiss the tip of his nose. She had always wanted to that but he was too tall and always too fast, managing to turn his face away from her and kissing her cheek instead. A girl has to take the chances that presented themselves to her.

"But I want to be inside of you, to feel your tight warmth around me," Loki drawled, softly thrusting up his hips to prove his point.

She actually whimpered at the contact - needy Loki did things to her, it seemed. Wetting her lips before nodding once, she quickly stepped away from him.

Loki followed her movements with his eyes, the disappointed look in his eyes rapidly turning to excitement when he realized she had only stepped away to discard those ridiculous cat-print pajamas of hers. Despite the radiators being at their highest capacity, her nipples pebbled almost painfully as she resumed her position above him, the chill that emanated from his body still quite noticeable.

Both let out little sounds of pleasure as the friction was now stronger without any fabric acting as a barrier between their bodies. She couldn't help but to grind her hips against his before leaning down to kiss him.

There was a power surge suddenly rising up in her when she realized that - for the first time - Loki was at her mercy. Usually, when she was on top, it was because he let her be on top. And even then, it was him who set the pace.

From his reactions when she traced them with her fingers, she gathered that the silvery lines adorning his skin were particularly sensitive. They also stood out a little, almost like scarifications and the best was that they down there as well. Alright, let's not get ourselves carried away, her inner voice reminded her.

When she slid her hand between their bodies to guide himself inside her warmth, she had to stop herself from grinning at the look on his face - like a Frost Giant boy who had just spotted a bag of candies. If they had candy in Jotunheim, she actually didn't know.

Loki groaned, throwing his head back and exposing his long blue neck to her as she impaled herself on his cock. It was quite a stretch, even more so than in his Æsir form and she felt incredibly full with him inside, the ridges only adding to that sensation. Focus, girl!

At her stillness, Loki impatiently thrust his hips upwards but she was quick to press his body down against the mattress. He looked up at her, confusion written across his face even as his grip tightened on her hips. Surely, she wouldn't do that to him, would she?

She smirked at his reaction even though she wanted this wanted this as much as him. "You only asked to feel my warmth around you," she explained coyly.

His crimson turned a shade darker. "You are a very reasonable person, love, surely you cannot expect me -"

"Shh," she hushed him with her index finger to his lips. "If you are too weak to overpower me, you are too weak for sexy times. For now, I'm going to warm you up. Afterwards, you can do whatever you want with me," she promised just as she felt him twitch inside her. Focus!

Without waiting for his response, she lowered herself until the upper half of her body was lying over his torso and she was cuddled against him.

His muscles gradually relaxed as he came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t be able to convince her. Sighing, he nuzzled his nose into her hair. Gosh, she smelled of whatever Valhalla was made of! And if he was honest with himself, being like this was rather comforting, the ability of feeling her everywhere somehow making him forget that a whole world existed beyond the cocoon of her body.

"Fine," he complained a little theatrically, "but I'll hold you to your word."

Within minutes, both were soundly asleep. Not only was it the early hours of the morning, but he had exerted himself more during the mission than he wanted to admit and she never got much sleep when he was away.

Hours later, she found herself being woken up by a rhythmic rocking movement that she would gladly have compared to a calm boat ride if there was the biggest storm in the century and the boat was ramming into her.

With a gasp caused by sudden pleasure, she opened her eyes to find Loki thrusting into her with a mischievous smirk. "It seems your technique got me warmed up in no time, love."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Let me know what you guys think!

[thatnamelessbutler]

(OoC: The winter scene that you mentioned- meant to type that sorry)

((ooc: OH POGGERS, Lemme grab it-))

Okay SO

It's winter, Billiam and Hubert wanted to go outside in the snow. So they got themselves + Butler all bundled up in warm clothes and hopped out. Butler mostly stayed at the doorway, closest they can get to the heated mansion while still being outside. Bi's off to the side, building something out of snow(it's probably a bastion), and Hu's off on the other side drawing in the snow. Bu's content to watch for a little bit, but eventually they start messing around in the nearby snow and shape some into a snowball, which gives them the greatest idea.

They send one of their vines into the ground(and it is frigid, but they can deal with it in favor of a prank) and if sneakily comes up behind Hubert, and shapes some snow into a crudely-made packed ball. And it scoops it up, CHUCKS it at Billiam, and retreats back to Bu. Billiam gets hit dead-on, and blames Hubert, who. doesn't know what's happening, but can get the gist that Billiam is challenging him to a snowball fight.(he is not challenging them to a snowball fight)

So, the two just go BUCK-WILD. The snow walls and the pyramids of snowballs to chuck and everything. Meanwhile Bu's just off to the side trying not to wheeze his lungs out with laughter.

Eventually, someone gets hit in the eyes and, momentarily blinded, start flinging snowballs everywhere and a stray one or two smack Butler dead-on. He brushes the snow away, steps back into the mansion to let the frost melt, and then he steps back outside and sends like 3-6 vines from each limb while also idly preparing a few snowballs with his own hands. Billiam and Hubert, caught up in their (friendly)feud, don't notice this aside from a fleeting glimpse at the vines behind the other, also shaping crude but effective snowballs. Upon each vine and the main body having about five snowballs prepared, pale/darker vines emerge from beneath their clothes. Three shots are fired behind each end, warnings from the flora: The endgame has begun.

Billiam and Hubert look to where they knew Butler was standing, and find them being raised by their vines, stepping just close enough to cast a shadow. Billiam's more focused on the threats, the vines, each wielding this war's weapon of choice. Hubert, on the other hand, is focused on the gleam in Butler's eyes, the growing toothy smile on his face. As his eyes catch the light, he is reminded that their child Butler is a being of pure earth, wielding it's power, and right now, they delight in the prospect of revenge.

Without breaking eye contact, Hubert reaches for his ammo. The second his hand closes around a snowball, the rest go flying.

It is a massacre. Billiam and Hubert stand no chance against the multiple limbs and eyes and skill in battle of The Child Over, the one they taught themselves. Not one throw is wasted; what doesn't hit the people hits their ammo, or their walls. Butler himself hits every point hit on his own body and then some.

The endgame lasts for five seconds. And in those five seconds, the two sides are obliterated. Butler descends, cackling so hard his sides hurt. His vines retreat into the earth and back into his skin to warm up again. The chill they bring has them shivering and rubbing at their arms.

Billiam and Hubert just stare in astoundment. Billiam stand up first to brush off the snow before it melts into his clothes, and Hubert waits a little longer. When he does stand up, his hands are folded behind his back.

"Good game," he says, walking towards Bu and extends a hand. Bu grins at him and goes to take it, and then Hubert's other hand flies out and smashes a snowball into their face, and then he bolts. Butler swipes the snow away.

"Oh, it is on." And they dip down to make more snow, not using their vines this time because they're still incredibly cold.

So, Butler and Hubert have their own little second round. Billiam just stands off to the side, easily dodging every snowball sent his way.

Bu and Hu stand across from each other in a ten-pace, flinging snowballs with planned reckless abandon. It lasts for a minute before Hubert lands a perfect shot in their hood, on their neck. Butler freezes a moment, stumbles, and holds a hand up to their neck. Rue flowers bloom in their hair.

Hubert panics and rushes over to scoop the snow away. Billiam comes up and asks what's wrong, and Hubert says he thinks he accidentally hit one of Bu's spore glands. Billiam also panics, because those are sensitive as fuck and are not supposed to be touched a lot, much less hit with snow, that hard no less. Once Hubert clears away the snow, Billiam reaches in and his natural high temperature melts the rest. Butler leans into his hand, shivering violently now that adrenaline isn't coursing through his veins. Beneath his clothes, his skin starts to frost over, starting with where the chilled vines are. The frost quickly reaches their hands, but he's wearing gloves, so it's still not seen.

Billiam's trying to ask if he's okay, or trying to get him to respond at all, but they can't. The cold is starting to reach too deep, and now they can't move, or speak, and the other side of their head is starting to frost, as is their hair. The rue flowers wither and die.

Hubert suggests they get him inside; he's one of flora, and flora doesn't survive in such conditions. That's enough to get Billiam to scoop him up and run back inside. Hubert says they have to warm them up slowly, so they bundle him up near a fireplace and Billiam just sits there with this plant child in his lap until they become aware enough to respond again.

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

“After all, who doesn’t need a friend who has dirt on everyone?”

(OOC: This is a rare time that I’m writing actual Marauders continuity instead of alt-Marauders continuity.  Let’s say this takes place shortly after Kate’s resurrection but before Emma and Kate’s ridiculous beat-down of Shaw.)

“We’re not exactly friends, though, are we Shaw?”  Pyro shifted uncomfortably in the fine leather arm-chair that Sebastian had insisted he occupy.  He was vaguely aware that there was some kind of bad blood between Shaw and Emma Frost, who was technically his “boss,” he supposed.  And why on earth would a Quiet Council member invite him for a private meeting?  Either Shaw was trying to bang him (that was a “maybe”), or he had some kind of dirty work in mind, the only reason the mutants “on high” would talk to someone like him.  Pyro’s guard was up automatically. 

“No,” Sebastian admitted.  “And I doubt we will ever be.  But we can maintain a cordial relationship that might be....mutually beneficial.” 

Pyro sighed.  This was exactly the kind of weaselly beating-around-the-bush he expected from the high society types.  Never willing to get their own hands dirty, never willing to even outright state aloud the atrocities that they set into action.  He took a generous gulp of the whiskey, and decided that it wasn’t worth staying for however long it would take Shaw to indirectly suggest that he’d like Pyro to commit just a teeny little spot of arson. 

“Let’s not muck about, Shaw.  You obviously want something from me.  What do you want?”

“I see you prefer to be direct.  I can respect that.  I don’t like to waste time, myself,” Sebastian nodded, apparently willing to ignore the rudeness.  “You are in a unique position to bring me valuable information.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.  You see, I have reason to fear that the White Queen is using the Hellfire Trading Company for her own selfish purposes.  Trust me, I’ve worked with her for many years.  The woman is a snake.  Constantly playing games.”

“I didn’t know snakes played games.  Unless you mean that one with the ladders.”

“Don’t be flip, Allerdyce, this is a serious situation, and a unique opportunity for you.”  A bit of the charm had dropped out of Sebastian’s voice as he continued.  “I know she has Kate wrapped around her finger, the poor naive child, even though Emma’s own manipulations led to the girl’s unfortunate death.  And  the others onboard are no match for Emma.  Iceman is just as naive as Pryde, and Storm and Bishop are too noble and high-minded to be able to counter the White Queen’s treachery.  But you.  You don’t have the same ideals.  You are a practical man.  You understand that the world is a dark, vicious place.  I need you to be my man inside the crew.  Pass along information about the missions.  For the sake of Krakoa, and your own crewmates.  Together perhaps we can prevent any more....tragedies.”

Pyro wasn’t entirely sure he believed any of that.  But he also couldn’t say he entirely trusted that Frost woman.  Of course, she HAD carefully arranged a psychic trick to get Yellowjacket out of his body without harm, even though the resurrections meant that it wouldn’t have really mattered if that horrid bug-man had exploded him from the inside.  Plus she’d let him burn those awful children for a sadly short time.  That counted for something, in Pyro’s book.

“If I’m so worldly and cynical as you say, surely you can’t imagine I’ll just take your word for all of this,” Pyro grinned, leaning back and finishing the glass of whiskey.  “Or that I’ll do anything ‘for the good of Krakoa.’  Even if I did believe you, you’re asking me to take on a dangerous job that’ll piss off not one, but three Council members if I’m caught.  And I’m not keen to get kicked off that boat, which would be the very least they would do.” 

“Of course I wouldn’t expect you to work for free,” Sebastian said, leaning forward to refill Pyro’s glass of whiskey.  “I recognize the risk involved, and I will see you handsomely rewarded.  Surely you can see the resources I have available.”  Shaw gestured at the impressive drawing room, just a small section of the luxurious Blackstone Keep.  “And that’s just wealth.  I have connections, political power.  The question is, Pyro - what do you want for yourself?”

That was.....a damn good question, actually.  Since coming out of the cocoon with the Brotherhood disassembled, Mystique acting distant, Blob playing bartender, Phantazia MIA and Avalanche bloody dead, he’d just been drifting with the wind.  Or rather, drifting with the ocean currents.  

“I’m sure it hasn’t escaped your notice that the rest of the crew occupies far more privileged positions than yourself.  Bishop, a Captain.  Emma, Kate and Storm on the Council.  Iceman lacks political power in Krakoa, but has become something of a minor celebrity among the humans.  They all live in luxury on this island, where all mutants matter but some clearly matter more than others.  And meanwhile, I believe you are still spending most of your time in Krakoa at the Brotherhood compound.”

Pyro had a nice little hut in the area that they all shared.  It was all he really needed, and very convenient for game nights.  Which often turned into drinking-fighting-and-ripping-the-game-board-in-half nights, but it was all in good fun. 

“Yeah, you really seem to care about economic disparity on the island with your giant castle and all that,”

“I’ll not apologize for the wealth that I’ve earned,” Sebastian said.  “I’m offering you an opportunity to earn some of your own, with relatively easy labor.  Be my eyes onboard the Marauder, and I’ll see to it that your life is vastly improved, however you see fit.  As a reward for your service to Krakoa, of course.” 

Pyro gulped down the entire glass of whiskey again, hoping that the jolt as it hit his chest might bring some clarity. 

He wasn’t keen on betraying team-mates.  Once he was on a team, he was there for that team.  He’d only betrayed his team once, the last-minute “heroic” mistake of a dying man.

But he was also very keen on bumping Avalanche up the resurrection queue.  Surely Sebastian could flex his authority to move things along, something even Mystique hadn’t bothered to do.  He could imagine himself and Avalanche living in a castle like this, but with more fancy cars, big-screen TV’s and titty posters.

Assuming that Shaw was telling the truth about any of this.  Assuming that Shaw was successful going up against three Council members at once.  Assuming that Shaw would actually follow through on his promises and not immediately throw Pyro under the bus.  It was something the powerful mutants tended to do with lackeys.  Pyro had many years experience as a lackey to back that up. 

In the end, Pyro supposed it came down to this - who did he trust?  The corrupt businessman who might generously reward his service?  Or the squeaky-clean X-types who might kick him off the boat or even into the pit if he got a little too enthusiastic with his fire? 

Who would have his back, when it came down to it? 

Pyro made his decision, and poured himself more whiskey.

“Shaw, I think we can work something out.  Let me tell you everything I know.”

____________________________________

20 minutes later, Sebastian Shaw had learned that Iceman was cheating on Christian Frost with Bishop, who was also carrying on a passionate affair with Storm, and that Kate had come back “wrong” in her resurrection, but was hiding her ill health from crew-mates while searching for a cure.  Jumbo Carnation had been secretly captured by a human anti-mutant group and brainwashed into being a sleeper agent assassin, but had been subdued by Callisto who had taken him off for deprogramming in the Swiss Alps while also rekindling her love of fashion modelling.  “Storm” had actually been replaced by her evil twin sister “Zalastorm” who stole her powers and appearance, while trapping the real Storm in the Negative zone.  Christian Frost was somehow pregnant.  And Emma was being haunted by five identical psychic ghosts that represented the loss of her childhood innocence.

It was, quite possibly, the most obvious steaming pile of bullshit Shaw had ever heard.  Like something out of a dreadful daytime soap opera.  Downright insulting.

“You know, you could have just said ‘no,’ Allerdyce.  There was no need to waste both of our time.”

“It hasn’t been a waste of my time,” Pyro said cheerfully, drinking again.  “I’ve been having great fun.”  Sebastian reached out and snatched the glass away.  Whiskey was for people who were useful, not obnoxious “guests” now overstaying their welcome.

“You’ve thrown away a tremendous opportunity for the sake of what?  A cheap joke?  You really are as stupid as everyone says you are.”

“No, I’m not,” Pyro said, suddenly straightening up with a serious expression.  “I know who really has my back.  Those X-Men might be self-righteous pricks, but they’ve looked out for me since I came aboard.  They treated me like a team-mate.  I doubt you’d do the same.” 

“I would have treated you with the respect that you earned,” Sebastian said honestly.  “Which, at the moment, is less than nothing.  Get out.”

“Suits me fine,” Pyro said.  He snatched up the whiskey and took a long chug directly from the bottle, winking at Sebastian as he did so.  Sebastian yanked the bottle back.  Not because it was worth anything now, but because he wasn’t going to give Allerdyce the satisfaction of walking away with it.  He grabbed the Australian mutant by the collar, dragged him to a window, and tossed him down into the turbulent waters of the bay, taking some small satisfaction in the splash.  Pyro could probably swim to the shore.  Probably. 

He spun and tossed the whiskey into the fireplace, flames flaring up as it shattered.  A 25 year-old bottle of Chivas Regal, $425.  Thank God he hadn’t wasted any of the good whiskey on trash like Allerdyce.  

Sebastian needed another plan.  Pyro might run and tattle.  Emma had made it clear that she wanted his head.  And Kate had seemed smugly hostile at her resurrection party.  After some thought, he sent out a summons to his worthless son, and the slightly less worthless Fenris.  A storm was obviously coming, and Shaw would be a fool to sit alone in his castle unprepared.  And anyone who knew Sebastian - who knew him and truly understood his character - would know that he was no fool. 

(OOC again: I’m afraid this might have leaned too far in the direction of Pyro making a fool of Shaw, which really wasn’t my intention, especially after that last Marauders issue.  Instead, this was meant to be ‘Sebastian makes an offer, and Pyro acts like his obnoxious asshole self.’  Also, I stole the joke about Sebastian thinking of really expensive alcohol as something that can be ‘thrown away’ on someone like Pyro directly from your own excellent writing.)

[smearsyd]

Day Again | Sehun | Part Three

Kim Haru knows loss. She knows what it means to miss someone, to find out what isolation looks like in the flesh. These things, she expects them and she patiently waits for the day she may wake up and greet them as griefs of the past.

What she does not expect, is the same grief reflected back in another’s face. She doesn’t expect to find solace through this person either, nor does she expect to cherish her days with him, rather than wait them away.

characters:

+ oh sehun (exo), you as kim haru (because names are important)

what to expect:

+ christmas + friends to lovers + fluff and romance

warnings:

+ mentions of death, grief + sensitive topics

length:

+ five parts + 30k plus total

read it here: (updating… stay tuned)

+ masterlist + part one + part two + part three 

author’s note:

+ this was late merely because I was too lazy to update it oop 

@i-peachesandstrawberries​ @itsmesa​

if you want to be tagged, please reply to the masterlist!

Golden Hour 

I held the slightly crinkled note in the palm of my hand, feet antsy in anticipation of those stormy eyes. My stomach fluttered at the memory and I tried to swallow it down, to pretend I was feeling nonsense, but the wings of his touch and those grey, grey eyes of his were too encompassing to let it pass.

My fingers traced the spot where his feather like kisses were branded into the crown of my head and my heart thumped against the cage of my chest in half-faltered beats as if it were still attempting to match tempo with his. Is it normal for your body to remember someone, to long for someone, when even your mind is still lagging in the words to comprehend your emotions?

His writing was soft and rounded, not at all like I would expect.

I’m sorry I have to leave…

Don’t go, I wanted to say at the parchment.

You are sleeping so peacefully. I don’t want to wake you, but I have to pick Jisung up from his friend’s house…

Wake me, I don’t care.

I’m glad we ran into each other once more…

So am I.

If you’re not busy, come next Sunday at 7. Jisung is having a party. He’d love to see you— so would I…

I wouldn’t miss it.

Call me sometime, okay. So, I can hear your voice.

Always.

A week had passed and yet, I hadn’t stopped reading his note as if I were reading it for the first time, discovering something new within myself as I overlooked it. Oppa would laugh at me if he knew the way I was feeling about his best friend. Or perhaps, maybe he always suspected, and I was the one who laughed it off.

The thought slipped away from me as I neared Sehun’s building, my ears perking at a familiar, short chuckle. His broad shoulders and tall frame took over the center of my eyes and I found myself walking faster, drawn like a hummingbird to its favorite nectar. He was unloading his truck, a fresh Christmas tree in tow; it was bigger than any I had ever seen, and the green thistles were cascading all around him like imitation snow.

I found myself calling out to him as he sat the tree down and closed the back of the pick-up. His head quickly turned in my direction, a bright smile lighting up the frosted bits of his nose and cheeks. We spotted one another and then he was taking the few large strides to my side and enveloping me tightly in his arms. I breathed him in, his usual scent of fresh pine and a vibrating greenness from the trees he handled coursing through my senses.

“Haru-ya,” he whispered into me. “You should have told me you were leaving, I would have come and gotten you, so you didn’t have to take the bus.”

I pulled back, taking in the pooling, content lightness of his stormy eyes in delight. “The walk was nice actually, and you were working anyways.” He was still wearing the thick, cargo jacket and sporting a black task belt filled with different equipment I knew nothing about. The title Environmental Field Specialist, Oh Sehun, was shining brightly on his chest.

“The walk was nicer than riding in a warm car with a handsome man?”

“A handsome man?” I pretended to look around, my eyebrows scrunching as I searched for such a culprit. “I’d have to find one first to know.”

Sehun tsked and I broke out into a light laugh, moving my hands to brush the snow and stiff thistle from his broad shoulders. “It was nice,” I stressed, “because I’m still getting use to the new neighborhood and I’ve found that there is lot to explore.”

Sehun let out a half-defeated-half-reprimanding sigh. “Still, call me next time,” he insisted, his fingers going to tuck a lock of my hair away. His touch was warm, and dare I say it, nicer than anything else.

I waved him off with a playful jest to my eyes anyway, taking a step away, but then he pulled me gently back, his stormy eyes suddenly serious. “Promise me, Haru. We can explore the neighborhood together if you want, just don’t go alone anymore.” He muttered gently, as if the thought of me walking alone in the cold pained him.

The air caught in my throat and I was struck silent by the pervasiveness of his demand, but regardless, a calming warmth spread through my body and I found myself nodding yes. His hand fully laced with mine, a thumb going delicately over the bend of my knuckles.

“C’mon,” he smiled, “Jisung and his friends are all inside.”

He pulled me up the stairs and into the small apartment he had always stayed in, the familiarity hitting me like a wall of cool, crystal water. The numbers 203 were gleaming in my mind as a photograph revisited countless times when he opened the door and led us inside. The first thing I remembered was the light.

Sehun always kept things so open and bright. Now, as the sun was setting, the apartment was basked in golden, beautiful light that illuminated the space and highlighted the blonde crown of Sehun’s locks in a halo of warmth. He looked lively then more than ever, a kind smile blooming on the quiet of his face and his fingers drumming lightly against mine as he watched me watching him.

The second thing I noticed was the homey kind of chaos that ensued around the space. Sehun’s small dog, Vivi, came running to my feet with a trail of whimpers following him, and in the living room, playful yells could be heard from the booming entertainment center.

“Hello,” I cooed, reaching down to pet an awfully vibrant Vivi, who was usually stuck up and only responded to Sehun. “Did you miss me? I missed you!” I patted his head and Sehun simply chuckled, looking fondly at the two of us before turning to call across the house for Jisung. Shortly after, Jisung came trotting out with six other boys in tow.

“Noona! You came!” He exclaimed, running over and embracing me in a quick hug. “I’ve missed you being over all the time.” I squeezed him tightly back, his young face twisting my heart. He looks exactly like Sehun did at that age— except somehow so much taller.

“I missed being here too.” I smiled, patting down his messy hair. “Are these friends from school?”

“We all play basketball together.” One of them said, sporting a boyish smile and kind eyes. “I’m Mark, the captain. It’s nice to meet you Noona.” He shook my hand and I couldn’t help but to return the smile.

The rest introduced themselves one by one. Renjun, the small one, and Jaemin, the oddly charismatic one, bickered about how Jisung is always forgetting his water bottle at home— to which Sehun glowered at. Chenle and Haechan, the loudest ones, were in a heated debate about something regarding the game they were playing. And lastly, Jeno, a mildly shy boy, shocked me by asking for a hug— something he apparently likes to do when greeting all new people. Sehun shook his shoulders at me as if to say it shocked him as well, but of course I gave him a hug.

Then they were back off to their game and it was just Sehun and I again. He nudged me before trailing off into the hallway that led to his room, throwing me an all grey look over his shoulder to make sure I was following. My feet shuffled after him, but all I could think about was my brother’s nasally kid voice always telling me I wasn’t allowed down there with them, that girls were a bore, especially little sisters, he would say.

Then Sehun would let me in anyway. I let the memory sit on my shoulders, its weight getting easier to hold.

Sehun’s room was just as I remembered it— well lived in and a little messy, but organized in his own fashion. The bedspread was still the same warm chocolate color and his walls were still the same shade of his light eyes, the ones he is flashing me now.

“The only thing that’s changed in here is you,” I remarked, touching the edge of his over-spilling bookshelf.

Sehun tilted his head in question, sitting back on his bed as he watched me lazily look through his room. “I’ve changed, really?” His hand was propped under his chin and his blonde hair was falling into his eyes. My fingers began to tingle in desire to run through the slightly knotted locks, to pull the strands through my digits and feel—

I blanked when an amused bend to his lips graced his angled face as he caught me staring. I turned away, pretending to look at the books so he couldn’t see the flush of color rushing to my face. “Yeah…” I almost coughed, “you look old now.”

Sehun snorted, throwing his head back. “Is that so?” He asked, a layer of husky playfulness coating his voice. “What exactly about me looks so old, huh?”

His laugh was contagious, and I found myself turning towards him. I neared his spot on the bed and he reached out to me, pulling me closer so I was standing over him and in between his legs. I pretended to inspect his face, drawing my eyes lightly over all of his features and following their movements with the pads of my small fingers. He let me, leaning gently into my touch as his hands rested on my hips.

“Your nose is longer,” I started with a short chuckle, tapping the bridge lightly. He raised a brow at me, but his eyes were sparkling. “And your face got quite bigger.”

“Seems like fair signs of aging,” he played along as I traced the outline of his face, coming to wrap his arms around my waist. We melted into one another, seemingly forgetting the painful circumstances that haunted us as our past became a point of comfort, of familiarity that propelled us together rather than pulled us apart. In the moment, there was just us two and nothing else mattered.

“Of course, there are so many wrinkles now too.” I finished with a smirk.

Sehun pretended to be offended. “Me? Having wrinkles? You must be blind.” He spilled out, reaching for my face to gently lower it to his. “Is there something wrong with your eyes?”

This time it was his turn as he looked over me, slightly prodding my skin and pinching the apples of my cheeks until I was giggling slightly under my breath. “Hmm,” he whispered with a crescent fall to his lips, his breath falling over me. “Nothing’s wrong here, they’re just as beautiful as ever.”

Somewhere along the way, we had ended up face to face. His nose was brushing against mine and all I could see was his stormy eyes gazing at me, the golden hue of the sunset filtering in through the window and surrounding us. I leaned into him and his warm hand settled on my cheek, pulling me closer as his—

The door slammed open and I jumped back. The two of us separated from shock, but at seeing that it was just Jisung’s form in the doorway, Sehun seemed to instinctively pull me closer again. It wasn’t until we really looked at Jisung, however, that we noticed his puffy red eyes and the blank look on his face as he stared down at his feet. He was holding his cellphone haphazardly in the palm of his hand, looking as if it were about to lose its grip and fall from his grasp at any second.

I went to ask what was surely on both of our minds, but Sehun beat me to it. “What happened?” He breathed out in building question.

Jisung took a slow, shuffled step forward before finally meeting Sehun’s gaze, a loose tear running down his small face. “Hyung—” he broke off, more tears falling freely.

Sehun stood up almost instantly, grabbing Jisung on the shoulders as he looked back and forth between him and the phone. “What’s wrong? Tell Hyung what happened.”

“M-mom called…” Jisung finally got out. Sehun’s face went blank, but his eyes darkened significantly. “She was trying to get me to meet her somewhere, b-but when I refused, she—” he choked, his face splotching in red. Sehun tried to calm him, one hand wiping tears away as the other patted his back. All I could do was stand helplessly, the image of them two weighing down the same image of my brother and I.

Jisung struggled. “—S-she got really mad and started yelling—”

Shh, Sehun soothed, his voice quivering slightly, but from the growing look in his eyes and the stiff posture building in his muscles, I could tell it was from anger. “You don’t have to say it.”  

Sehun glanced over his shoulder and I froze from the pure intensity he was giving off, but his gaze softened as it landed on me. His eyes conveyed everything I needed to know in order to see that he wanted help. I quickly took the few steps over to them and Sehun maneuvered the phone from his grasp and stepped out once I had a hold on Jisung. His footsteps were booming as they walked from the room and through the front door, it slams behind him.

“Come here,” I breathed out, taking his hand. “Come sit down.”

“I hate crying.” Jisung sniffed, letting me pull him over to Sehun’s bed. He folded in half, rubbing his tears away with small fists as I patted his back lightly.

“There’s nothing wrong with crying.” I offered smally, not expecting his remark. “Noona cries all the time, so does your Hyung.”

Jisung looked up then, his red eyes watery and unbelieving. “Does he really?” He asked in a cracked voice.

“Of course. Everyone cries sometimes, there is absolutely nothing wrong with letting out your emotions and feeling whatever it is that you are feeling at this moment. Sometimes Sehun and I even cry together.”

Jisung’s face scrunched up, the tears slowly coming to a stop, but he didn’t say anything else or try to rub them away. We stayed silent until he had completely caught his breath, some healthy colors returning to his face.

“I don’t get it…” he trailed off, looking at the ground as if he was waiting for it to provide him with all of the answers to his questions. I found myself looking too, hoping in a sliver of chance that maybe it would. He let out a reserved huff, one that resonates the guttural exhale of what it means to be a young boy expected to handle everything like a grown man.

Men were pitiful like that, I’ve realized, stuck in a box that was their body, confined and betrayed by even their ability to express. I looked at him and was reminded of my own brother, a tightness surrounded my throat and my eyes began to burn. I set my hand atop his shoulder and tried to radiate every bit of support I could through my fingers and into the cool fabric of his red jersey.

Sehun entered then and the door creaked open as he pushed through the small wooden frame. He had to bend a little as to not hit his head, his large hand rested backwards onto his neck as he feverishly rubbed his blonde locks around. He looked tired as he made eye contact with me, the tired that is mental, the tired that rests in your bones. I knew this, for I too understood that unwarmable ache.

Pleasantries never worked, nor did your favorite movie on a Saturday night wrapped in pajamas that you deemed just right. You still clicked the TV remote off and let it sink back in, let the tired rest into your bones and whisper silence louder than any attempt to lighten yourself had ever spoken. I smiled at him, albeit a weak one, but it was genuine. He returned a soft gaze of his own, one that was so Sehun-like that I felt like no other gaze amounted to it. Stormy eyes blinked out a gentleness; a comfort that had always been there.

He rested next to Jisung and placed his hand in the same position as mine on his opposite shoulder, rocking his younger brother a bit before pulling him into his chest. My hand fell away and I closed them together in my lap, so I didn’t have to feel the absence of warmth.

The sight of brothers clinging together, always together, brought a tender image I felt connected to, yet so far distanced from that I found myself looking away, sniffing to acknowledge to myself that I was indeed real in this moment. Sehun stroked the top of Jisung’s identical blonde locks and looked down at him with a wiseness that he seemed to carry on his shoulders. It was the same look he would give my brother when they were growing up, and at times, would even give me.

It was a look he always had, even when he was young, and I, even younger. A soft smile of bitter sweetness glimpsed my face as I remembered.  

“Halmeoni!” She cried with the anguish of tightened muddy fists and a tarnished dress, painted with the throes of play gone wrong. “Halmeoni!” She looked at the familiar, yet unfamiliar way in which strangers moved past her, their eyes reflecting the muddy remains of her dress.

“Whose child is that?” They whispered. “Who cares.” Another says.

Haru pushes past, suffocating within the bends of foot traffic and bike whistles, distant radios and patron chatter. Her eyes blur and she wails out in desperation just as someone grabs her arm tightly, pulling her to the side with the grip of heated intent.

“What’s the matter, my puppy, what happened? Where’s your brother at?” She recognized the sweet sigh of her grandmother’s voice. The distant, but firm smell of earthy mushrooms from their shop and the blue starch apron that was always wrapped around the bend of her wide hips. Haru collapsed against her side with huffs of pink lips exhaling the remainder of her stress and releasing the stares from cold, careless faces.

“Halmeoni, Oppa needs help!” She begged with tense eyes, taking fistfuls of that blue apron into her tiny palms. “He falled from the top, the top top Halmeoni! I-I told him to get up, to stop picking on me like you told me to do, b-but he won’t get up! Halmeoni,” she whined, tugging again, “Oppa won’t get up! Oppa won’t get up!”

“Oh, my puppy, my sweet Haru, what am I goin’ to do with you.” She clicked her tongue as her hand caressed the brown locks of Haru’s tangled hair and tucked them behind her ear.

“Dry them tears baby, here comes your Oppa now, and that handsome Oh Sehun boy beside him. Go on, look,” she coerced with a slight push, unfurrowing the small hands from her apron and giving them a loving pat. She reached down and pinched the soft flesh of Haru’s pink cheeks and Haru giggled, a tinkle of soft bells, before nodding her head and turning anxiously to find her Oppa.

She gasped once seeing them indeed coming up the road, her brother waving an arm in the air and Oh Sehun gazing on with that particular look of his. The grandmother simply chuckled before turning back around to tend to her rows of turnip roots, mushrooms, and other vegetables littered throughout the small shop.

Haru had a fresh set of crocodile tears falling down her face by the time she reached her brother and his best friend. She ran into his arms and he patted her head like older brothers do.

“Why you didn’t get up?” She accused, her fiery eyes demanding answers while sneakily running her gaze over her brother’s body, inspecting for wounds the size of watermelons she would beg her grandmother to cut into bite sizes during the summer months.

Her brother simply smiled. “I’m sorry, I was just catching my breath. Sehun will tell ya’, won’t you?” He nudged his best friend with a look of obligation, but Oh Sehun was already patting her small head with the same look of love her brother had given her.

“You don’t have to worry Haru-ya,” Sehun announced, his voice steady and warm. “I’ll take care of all the bad things before they happen, that way you won’t have to cry again.”

Haru dried her tears and held out her small pinkie finger as a response. “It not true if you don’t promise it.” Sehun laughed, but held his hand out, nonetheless. “And don’t forget to stamp it!” Their fingers pushed up against one another like walls of support and they both smiled, innocent, loving smiles.

A light hand fell against my knee and I blinked the memory away, looking at the large palm of Sehun’s warm hand as it rested against the dull material of my jeans. I had the urge to envelope that hand into my own, to hold onto it and force it to promise me like it did once ago to drive away all the bad things, to turn back time and make everything better again.

I wanted, in an unfair pleasure, to have Oppa back, to laugh with him and do normal things with him. I wanted to receive texts way after I had shut myself in my room, asking if I wanted ramen and if I wanted spicy or savory because he knew my answer would always be yes. I missed the constant chatter, the TV blaring as soon as I walked through the door because he constantly forgot to turn it off. I missed being loved, unconditionally, by one person who would always be there.

Was supposed to always be there.

It was unfair, but it isn’t a fairness I could change. And it isn’t a fairness Sehun could change either. He wasn’t ever able to, which in itself, is the most fitting, and yet unfitting thing to say about him.

I decided to hold his hand anyway. It felt nice in mine; it felt like it could warm my bones. He rubbed his thumb over the back of my knuckles and squeezed tightly. It was like he needed something to ground himself on— just as I held onto myself for reassurance, he reached out and held onto me. The grip, though warm and gentle, felt foreign, like the grip only knew how to comfort, not to receive.

It made me wonder, who was ever there for him?

Just as easily as he held on, he let go. And as if one was normally able to see warmth leave your body, I saw it leave his with a tremble of his fingers and a dullness of responsibility in his gaze.

“Listen,” he spoke clearly, pulling Jisung back to look him properly in the eyes. “There are going to be people in this world, no matter where you are, that will try to tell you how to feel about yourself. They’re going to tell you that what you feel isn’t real, that what you feel isn’t right. They will de-validate you every chance they get in order to validate themselves. Do you get what I mean?” He asked firmly, his stormy eyes searching intently for something I wasn’t even sure of.

Jisung sniffed, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. I pushed a tissue from my pocket into his palm, to which he took absentmindedly. “I guess… I just don’t get why. Why would she call me after such a long time, call me close to Christmas,” he seemed to correct himself, his words like embers from a dying fire. “Why call to just tell me that she’s tired of trying and that I’m a lost cause? What does that even mean?”

Sehun sighed through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut for the smallest of moments before pulling Jisung back into a hug. He looked almost motherly then, as if he was willing to be, to do, whatever it took to protect Jisung. Protect, though, felt like a small word in light of what I felt Sehun would do for those around him. He was extraordinary in that way, selfless in the most self-driven way.

“She says those things because it is easier for her to believe that you are the problem instead of acknowledging that she is the problem. That’s where you have to know inside that what she says isn’t true, that everyone else doesn’t get to say who you are or what you are capable of being. You and only you get to decide that.

“It’s an awful lot to ask of one person, but I need to know that you understand that there is nothing wrong with you. Can you promise me that you won’t listen to her when she says things like that?”

It was Jisung’s turn to sigh this time, his though, was short and contemplative, it came from the head instead of the gut. “I promise... I guess.”

“You guess?” Sehun asked in the same way Oppa used to when I back talked him.

Jisung turned and looked at me instead of answering Sehun. It shocked me inside and my eyes widened, remembering that I was here too, not just watching from the outside, but actually a part of something important. Jisung pouted his lips out, but his eyes were suddenly dancing. I knew that look and for a few seconds, I felt light in anticipation.

“Noona,” he deadpanned in a very no-nonsense manner. I looked at him straight before he said rapidly in one breath. “Please-date-Hyung-already-he’s-an-inch-from-being-seventy-years-old-and-I-fear-that-you’re-his-last result-for-liveliness-I-mean-you-should-have–”

Sehun let out an indecipherable blurt of words, quickly reaching for Jisung’s mouth to stop him from continuing. Jisung’s laughter escaped through his palm, however, lightening the room with every outburst. “–shood’ve heen ‘em pashin’,” he struggled against Sehun, his eyes turned half-moons before finally freeing himself from his grip “–waiting for you to call!”

“Oo-okay,” Sehun ended, picking up a cackling Jisung by the arms and pulling him from the bed. Jisung gave me a few half attempts at winks over Sehun’s large body before Sehun covered his face with him palm and pushed him out the door. “Since you are so funny now, go be funny somewhere else.”

“Ahh Hyung,” Jisung whined, looking like the smallest fourteen-year old I had ever seen. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud as Sehun slammed the door in his face, completely unmoved by Jisung’s efforts. It was times like this that I remembered they were siblings, young siblings, before everything else. Maybe it was the most important thing to remember about them, yet the easiest forgotten.

Sehun waited patiently by the door until he heard the video game music cue backup and Jisung laugh at something one of the boys had said. His shoulders seemed to relax then and he finally turned away, coming back to the bed and plopping down beside me.

“I’m sorry,” he directed at me around a huffy laugh. His eyes were closed, and his cheeks were lightly dusted in petal-like pink. I thought he looked awfully cute then, and though a small part of me felt that feelings as such were too unfitting of our circumstances, another significantly disagreed.

“Don’t apologize,” I said as I fell onto my back beside him. “I’m just glad Jisung is feeling a little better. Your mom sounds…” I trailed off, not wanting to say anything to worsen the mood— although like an asshole, was resting on the tip of my tongue.

Sehun hummed in response, a low, guttural one that made my insides tingle and a soft shiver to run up the expanse of my back. A swirling haze of clouded grey was pooling in the depths of his eyes that felt endless as we sat still and breathed on another in. His eyes housed a lifetime of enduring, of letting it all in and swallowing it down one grain of salt at a time. A grain for every loss of innocence, a pinch for each disappointment, a spoonful for building regrets, and a handful of molding heartache— he was cooking inside, and it was bubbling up, over, and into the space he allowed me to exist in. There was only a small crack he hinged open to fit a hand through in hopes that someone would hold on.

He gazed on at me and I gazed back, as simple and completely un-simple as that.

“There were times that were good,” he furrowed his eyebrows as if it was hard to speak. “It wasn’t always this way, I guess. But still, you can say it, she is an asshole,” he smiled one of those not so happy smiles and I tried to return the favor, but the notion didn’t quite translate.

“When Jisung was born, I really thought they had changed. Dad came back from America and ran the business remotely, and Mom stopped—” he paused, and my insides broiled, but he knew I had known for a long while and so he settled on, “—the abuse.

“They love Jisung, they really do, even if they suck at being parents. But even so, they aren’t good to be around and there’s no way I can sit and let her do to Jisung what she did to me. Especially since Dad left and I am no longer the small, easily manipulated boy anymore. There is no one else but Jisung to take her anger out on.

“He misses her, though, I can see it when he looks at the other mothers at his school or comes back from his friend’s houses and talks about how kind their parents are.” He gulped as he looked into me with unsteady, dissolving ends. “Sometimes, I’m worried I am not enough.

“Am I doing the right thing Haru?” He whispered and the crack in his large wall grew a little more.

I felt overwhelmed in the moment, a wall of frost falling around us and encapsulating the sacks that held the soup of us inside. Sometimes, I’m worried I am not enough. Sometimes, I’m afraid to figure out what enough is.

Instinct, really, is what drove me to reach out for him, to stop the numbing and reach for the fire. To say it was anything else would be purely extrapolation. It was embedded in me to reach out, but for him, it was a new sensation, a bleeding of orange and yellow ink into the thin lines of his torn skin. He held on, though. And when our foreheads rested against one another’s, his body was left shaking and needy, dripping the salty exhaustion of boiling so much frost inside.

I spoke when he was warmed.

“I think that enough and right thing will never be a judgement I can make for you, maybe not even for myself. I can’t tell you what makes sense or why things are the way they are. Those are all things we have to come to ourselves, in our own time.” My hand reached out and gently grasped the side of his chiseled face. His skin was warm and soft, and he closed his eyes against my touch. “I can tell you that being here, right now, and feeling upset, afraid, doubting yourself, being unsure of the future, or anything else, is okay. Sehun, it’s okay to not know and it’s okay to not be okay.

“All we can do as people is feel everything there is to feel, soak it up and process it, but then we let it go. What we decide to do from there is exactly what we were meant to do— enough and right thing will never factor into that because you are simply you and your actions will only ever be yours.”

His eyes fluttered open, his long lashes bouncing with the weight of unshed tears— tears that I would guess hadn’t seen daylight in a long time. “Jisung loves you and he is protected, loved, and accepted unconditionally by you. Those are things that you, solely, provide for him with no guidance and no one asking you to do it. If enough exists, then you will always be enough for Jisung.

“And for me.” I added as an afterthought.

He took a while to say anything and I imagined he was soaking it in as he slowly evolved me into his grasp. His fingers became nimble petals, leaving light traces of growth on the small of my back and the soft of my arm as he bloomed all around me, sliding his tender rooted fingers into the locks of my hair. He breathed in my oxygen and I breathed in his grounding presence until we were buried into one another.

“You won’t leave me, right?” He asked in tightened fingers and pollinated yellows.

“No,” I promised. “And you won’t leave me?”

“I’m yours, Haru-ya, that’s never changed.” He planted a delicate kiss across the loam of my forehead and breathed out the words I knew I had wanted to hear for a long time. “And if it’s what you want, then we can be each other’s.”

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[ninja-go-to-therapy]

The Ninja as Things My Friends and I Have Said

My friend keeps a quote-book and I thought y’all would enjoy this lol

Jay: say your last words to me, I’m about to be smited

Jay: I am so bright, I am star

Kai: Pickles and Dick Jay: Pickle my dick? Kai: PICKLE AND DICK! Lloyd: TICKLE MY DICK?

Kai: I want to play hot potato with a hand grenade

Lloyd: this chocolate milk mocks me

Kai: Can we all agree that when Jay walks he looks like a flamboyant gay drag-queen toddler

Lloyd, looking at a tampon: is that a cheese stick?

Kai: Where you at you little hoe?

Cole: Don’t do gay it’s not healthy 

Jay: I live life as a pirate. Because a pirate is free

Jay: The sun's only up for half the year in Alaska Cole: We have that too. It's called nighttime

Morro: Lick his nuts, they have a sorta Mexican flavor

Kai: I need to be surrounded with seven beautiful naked women in order to sleep at night

Lloyd: You know how there's like a line between bravery and stupidity? Nya: Jay is that line

Jay: Disclaimer: I am an anxious bean

Wu: It’s not your fault but it is your problem

Cole: I can't keep a straight face anymore. It's gay now.

Lloyd: That was such a late reaction it could've been my dad coming back

Zane: DISCO PENIS

Kai: I wanna stand around and look GORGEOUS

Kai: I'm outrageously good-looking Zane: No you’re not

Lloyd: I admit when I'm wrong! Kai: Oh yeah. But I'm like never wrong!

All of the ninja, always: It would be so much fun to hurt a bad person

Zane: what state do I live in? Jay: depression

Kai: cool onesie... can I get inside it?

Lloyd: They call me Santa. I bring snow to the children.

Kai: Don't fucking giggle you little shit.

Nya: I will beat you with a meat stick

Cole: You moan more than the dumpster out back

Wu: Don't stick the plungers on your foreheads!

Garmadon: whY are you SMelLING the plungers?

Zane: How does one piss in a watermelon?

Lloyd: When I become 99 pounds I'm going to eat a pound of chicken nuggets so I can be 1% chicken nugget. It's indisputable.

Cole: It smells like SHIT. Like it smells kinda okay now, but it still smells like shit. So it's like. Perfumeshit

Jay: Your socks are untied

Lloyd: Morro can just molest himself

Jay: Can you please not get a fucking locker smaller than my self esteem

Zane: You be smellin your own shit soon Jay: I already do Zane: Get it? Cause your mom gay. Everyone: ...what?

Lloyd: My name's Lloyd and I wear shoes sometimes

Nya: Unlike Skylor, they actually like balls

Kai: Fuck fuck fucking fuck fucking fucktown

Jay. I’m about to go commit space heater in bathtub

Kai: Vaccines make you gay

Lloyd: It’s not because I’m Asian, its because I eat rice so much

Zane: Hi. I’m Zane. ... my dick fell off

Kai, to Lloyd: Your dad is my fuckbuddy. ... wait. Shit.

Lloyd: You didn’t miss. You hit me right in the fucking nipple.

Kai: Eat my dick

Nya. Bite off your own dick

Cole: Your face looks like you're trying to make your dick fall off

Lloyd: So we were sitting watching TV eating macaroni with a fruit roll-up soaking my feet in a trashcan

Jay: I’m gonna go commit visit Pompeii in time machine

Jay: How can spiders fall from the ceiling and just skrrrrt away

Kai: Because none of us can speak proper sentences

Kai: Hold on. I'm sending a meme. I can't fight.

Jay: Engulf your own dick

Jay: Please don’t have a Boston tea party in my back yard

Kai: Still it felt like I committed a minor crime in Iran with all the water in my nose

Jay: Sensei Wu, please throw scissors... I kinda wanna die

Kai: I got royally fucked

Jay: Get your meaty luscious legs

Jay: The fuck you mean take my pants off? They're always on! Cause no one wants me to take them off!

Lloyd, picking up a napkin and seeing food fall out: IT’S BIRTHING 

Zane, threateningly: Give me your kidneys 

The Overlord: Where is your technology stored?

Zane: I can balance my body on my boner and spin like a beyblade

Kai: My balls are not a muscle

Cole: So apparently I'm not the only one with asymmetrical balls. Lloyd: Wait actually? Cole: Well yesterday Kai gave us a very descriptive description of his balls

Zane, sarcastically: Gosh darn don’t you hate it when you're not allowed to bring your 5 dollar footlong subway to training

Lloyd: So he poked me in the back with a pencil and my third grade self was like, "BLASPHEMY"

Kai: You.... dickmuncher

Jay: We're playing infinity Life. It's like Life but the cars are infinity stones.

Kai: I could have divine gay sex and it would still be nohomo.

Cole, during some super serious training: Bake me into a pie daddy

Kai: a compliment sandwich, like this: I like your shoes, YOU SUCK, your eyes are pretty

Zane, to Lloyd: Don't KILL her! Too much paperwork!

Jay: Stop moving your butt. It's uncomfortable when you clench it

Cole: The STICK.. will be UP YOU! Kai: My ASS is your spot!

Jay, teaching Kai to roller skate: First, we master walking  

Kai: I know I’m beautiful and perfect and amazing and huMBLE

Lloyd: I'm here for a good time, not a long time.

Cole: I'm allergic to emotions!

Zane: Yeet is not a valid Scrabble word

Kai: I love myself 3000. And you should, too. Love yourself, that is. Unless you wanna love me as well, cause that’s cool too.

Zane: Is doing drugs illegal

Lloyd: Post-traumatic stress? More like spicy memories

Jay: Be quiet so I can see

Cole: Why is my wallaber grinding its ass on the floor?

Kai: Whatever, my ass cheeks are balanced ... just as all things should be

Garmadon: IT WOULD BE SO MUCH FUN TO MAKE SOMEBODY THINK YOU WERE GONNA HIT THEM WITH YOUR CAR!

Sensei Garmadon: First of all, nobody says they're fine when they're good

Lloyd, getting himself a donut: A chocolate frosted donut for a chocolate frosted child

Nya, about Harumi: I just loathed her at first sight. Like your dad!

Morro, about Lloyd: He reminds me of a cucumber.

Cole, after becoming human again: I’m like Jesus... I thirst

Lloyd, sipping apple juice out of a shot glass: I'm just... done, ya know

Jay: Zane was eating my popcorn and I was like "hey that's my popcorn!" And he looks me dead in the eye and goes "surprise communism!"

Lloyd: I consumed a spatula

Jay: I almost burned down my house making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich

Zane, after Jay climbs on his back: Unmount me you heathen.

Kai: Yeah it's been such a dick-licking long time

Karlof: In Metalonia we do not have sister, we have brother with pussy

Zane: I want to delete my meatsack

Little Lloyd: At about 10 I was so hungry so I went to the med tent and pretended to be fainting so I got crackers

Garmadon: Before we leave I'm gonna sing a Disney song to attract all the females. Especially Misako

Jay, about to get sunburned: I know right, sunscreen is gross, you look like a glazed donut after you put it on

Cole: I like nuts but not that much. ... both kinds... I like my own nuts.

Zane: Hi I’m Zane and I’m the only one in this group with any form of common sense

Lloyd: Oh there's just someone throwing up over there! Kai: That’s hot

Cole, having a cashew thrown at him: I don’t want to swallow your nut ... I DON’T WANT YOUR NUT

Lloyd: My uncle is  going to sacrifice my body

Kai: Okay. You ALL can eat MY ass

Lloyd: A picture will last longer than your family will

Garmadon: That last rep was like a hydroflask and this one was like a kleankanteen

Kai: I bet for a second he was like "oh my God they care about me"

Kai: Because no one would be ballsy enough, no pun intended, to whip his dick out and piss on a crowded bus

Jay: Fuck a duck Lloyd: Please just dont ..ff... a duck Jay: But the duck likes it. It goes quackquackquackQUACKAFLACK.

Lloyd: Digiorno? More like I'm fucking hungry

Lloyd: My socks are so wet tis but a small price to pay for salvation

Kai: No means no muchacho

Dareth after failing at spinjitzu: Now I'm just dizzy and my ass hurts

Zane: I said, Cole, don’t orgasm in public, it’s rude, and Cole started moaning as loud as humanly possible

Lloyd: Say cheese! Kai: Whiskey!

Jay: Who the fucking dammit

Jay: Spongebob square-nuts

Jay: Actual- ACTUALLY it WOULDN’T make me more of a smartass because my SMART has yet to be caught up with my ASS

Lloyd: I hate it when my foot becomes the itch

Kai: STDs are like pokemon, you gotta catch em all

Kai: Here y’all are like "I like them 'cause of how they hold themselves and whatnot" and I’m just like “GIRL PRETTY"

Cole: I hate it whenever my foot becomes the gay.

Kai: I’m shit at being a person, not a shit person.

Zane: Buses turn me on

Jay: No pissing in our VSCO hangout!

Lloyd: Are y’all on high?

Kai: Its gotta warm up to start lavaing, now it’s just lamping.

Kai, crying: When I was crawling through the sewer my hair got stuck in my knee pit and ripped out a chunk

Lloyd, deepthroating a plastic recorder: I’m blonde so naturally, I'm good at this

Kai: I’m depressed. I’m stressed. But at least I’m well-dressed.

Lloyd: Nom nom milk carton

Cole, playing Life: Give me children

Jay, on a Thursday: If Friday was a Tuesday, it would be today

Kai: We're eating lotion and calling it spicy butter ... it’s spiritually spicy

Kai: I don’t fucking know! I'm not a cheese wheel!

Zane: Beepbeep bitch what's that? My lie detector smells a lie

Lloyd: I aced two tests today! The PSAT and the rice purity test!

Pixal: I don't really get the phrase "dry as bones" because your bones are in fact, wet

Cole: Kai, Kai, we can draw you as one of those anime girls. With humungous eyes. Actually no, it doesn't matter what the size of your eyes are. But your boobs are HUGE.

Lloyd: Jay wants to become the Alpha hoe

Cole: STOP TOUCHING MY HEAD AND SAYING IT FEELS GOOD

Jay: Deli sandwich equals cold hamburger

Lloyd: How was your day? Cole: Good. I have pie dough in my water bottle

Jay: If we do that we can reach our minimum requirement which is our goal

Kai: You can taste the freedom in that nacho cheese

Lloyd: I lust for the crust

Garmadon: You dirty-minded fools!

Anyone, to Skylor: You sucked the fire

Lloyd: OHMYGOD WE GET TO COLOR WITH CRAYONS!

Nya: Not to be lesbian or anything... but DAMN

Jay: No means no in Spanish

Kai: Bro saxophone is literally the sexiest instrument alive

Wu: The only wrong answers are the ones I don’t agree with

Kai: Look, why do you need to be a bottom to suck someone else's cock?

Cole: Jay, you suck Jay: More so than you do? Kai: Wait... wait you mean like you suck at the game or you’re better at sucking than he is?

Kai: WE CAN WANT YOU SEXUALLY TOO

Cole: That's not kinky, that's just abusive

Lloyd: CAN WE STOP USING THE TERM “BLONDE BITCH”

Cole: That’s not how you do it! Straddle me HO!

Kai: I didn’t mean to kick you in the coochie! Jay, I’m the distance: Be genital with her!

Cole: Yeah, also Jay tackled me and then grabbed me in between his legs and Kai jumped on top and Jay smacked his ass and I tried to record so Kai tried to smack my phone out of my hand and missed and his finger went right in my eye so I rolled over screaming and they got up and threw pebbles at me

Cole: It sounds naked! Music!

Kai, to anyone after they say Wu seems chill: He looks like a big soft squishy man but he is not

Zane: On average, in order to feel happy, you need to be touched, (pokes Jay) 8 times a day Kai raises two fingers on each hand: I’m about to make you ALL happy" *every person at the table in unison scoots away*

Zane: You looked like lord farquad but in a cute way!

Jay, after getting a pizza shoved at him. The pepperoni sanitized my facehole

Kai: I am the WITNESS! VICTIM! And I will play ... the e x e c u t i o n e r .

[crackimagines]

Take Over (FE: Three Houses Short Fic)

Persona 5 AU (Crimson Flower)

P5 AU Masterlist Here

—

With the Adrestian Empire declaring war on the church and moving to invade Garreg Mach, the Phantom Thieves move to steal the heart of Archbishop Rhea.

The clock is ticking for the Phantom Thieves, because if the invasion fails, then all their classmates are doomed to perish from the might of the Church.

—

Akira made sure that the Black Eagles and the Imperial forces were moving far ahead of them, as his team slowed down.

(Morgana) “I don’t think they’ll realize we’re gone in time.”

(Ryuji) “Alright, then let’s hurry this shit up! If we can take down Rhea and her lackies, then we can stop this war before it even begins!”

(Makoto) “As much as I would like for that to happen, we need to be extra careful. Something’s been acting up with the MetaNAV as of late!”

When Akira pulled out his phone, their Phantom Thief outfits began flashing onto them before fading away.

(Futaba) “This has happened everytime we’re preparing to enter it, what’s going on?”

(Yusuke) “I’m afraid we do not have the luxury of time to be asking that. We must hurry before the Imperials reach Garreg Mach!”

(Ann) “Yeah, and Rhea’s palace is on full alert. We gotta get going.”

(Haru) “Akira, if you would!”

Akira nodded and pressed the button.

(Phone) Transformation successful. Now merging Metaverse and the Real World.

(Everyone) ?!

The world around them began to distort as normal, but when it was finished, they noticed the world had not even changed in the slightest.

Even Garreg Mach in the distance had no visible effect. Edelgard and the others kept marching.

(Ryuji) “The shit is this?!”

(Makoto) “How is this even possible, we shouldn’t be able to access our Personas in the real world!”

(Haru) “This is bad! Everyone might be walking into a palace! They aren’t equipped to deal with shadows!”

(Futaba) “No, I’m not detecting anything different except...Holy crap, there’s one super strong reading in Garreg Mach!”

(Ann) “Rhea!”

(Yusuke) “They’re going to get massacred!”

(Morgana) “Joker, what’s our orders?!”

(Akira) “We need to get there before they do as fast as possible! Our identities might get compromised, but that doesn’t matter right now! Futaba, take Yusuke and Haru on your Persona and head over right now! Makoto, you break through that front gate and make a way for us! Morgana, Ryuji, Ann! With me! Our mission objective remains the same, STOP RHEA!”

[Life Will Change - Persona 5]

Wasting no time, Makoto rode Johanna straight down the road, pulling out her revolver.

Futaba’s Persona beamed the three of them up and flew around the sides.

Morgana transformed into his bus as Akira got on the wheel and stepped on the gas pedal.

...

(Edelgard) “THIS IS EMPEROR EDELGARD! BEGIN YOUR ASSAULT!”

All the soldiers charged the gates, ready to break it down until everyone heard a strange noise coming up behind them.

BANG BANG!

(???) “OUT OF THE WAY!”

Several squads’ advances were halted when a woman on a strange vehicle flew past them and crashed through the gate doors, making several of the church soldiers fly off from the impact.

(Soldier) “Who was that?!”

(Soldier 2) “Was that one of ours?!”

(Hubert) “Doesn’t matter. If they’re helping us then we cannot refuse their help! EVERYONE, CHARGE!”

The Black Eagles charged in with the rest of the soldiers, not noticing the flying saucer soaring above them.

Driving up the middle, Makoto used the front wheels to stop her, turning the back wheels up and hit away a squad of Church soldiers, sending them onto the concrete.

Getting off, Makoto quickly got her mask back on as Johanna disappeared, clenching her fists.

Another squad of soldiers rushed her, swiping their swords at her.

Swiftly dodging the first strike, she counterattacked with a fist going into his stomach, and a kick to the face hurling him back onto two other soldiers.

Grabbing her revolver, she quickly spun around and shot a soldier’s spear, making it fly out of his hand.

Elbowing his head, she ran to the sides of the nearby buildings and found a nearby ballista.

(Soldier) “Take out that thing that’s flying in the sky!”

(Makoto) “Oracle! Tch, NO YOU WON’T!”

...

Futaba beamed down Haru near the ballista Makoto was fighting at, and flew towards the other one.

(Futaba) “Fox and I will get the other ballista! Help Queen!”

Needing no further instruction, Haru held her axe firmly and hit a soldier in the back with the hilt.

(Soldier) “Huh?! BEHIND US-!”

Seizing the opportunity, Makoto used her legs and swept underneath several soldiers, tipping them all over.

(Haru) “MILADY!”

Summoning her Persona, it used a psychokinesis attack and distorted the soldiers, making them unable to get up.

(Makoto) “Thanks for that, Noir!”

(Haru) “No problem, now get back!”

Haru had a devilish smile as she pulled out her grenade launcher and pointed it at the ballista.

(Haru) “It’s going to go boom!”

Makoto smiled and saw other soldiers coming towards them.

After firing a single shot, it completely blew apart, scaring the others.

(Soldier) “W-What kinda weapon is that?!”

(Haru) “WHY DON’T YOU FIND OUT!?”

...

(Futaba) “BEHIND YOU, AIM DOWNWARDS!”

A soldier came for his back, and Yusuke aimed his rifle downwards and shot the sword, the reflection making the soldier recoil in surprise.

His Persona appeared behind him and froze the soldier solid.

(Yusuke) “And now!-”

Turning right around, he used his katana to break the wires and gears, and his Persona slammed its sword downwards, crushing it completely.

(Futaba) “Good job, Fox!”

(Yusuke) “Thank you. Come, we must infiltrate the main room without being seen!”

As they rushed off, the Death Knight and several other Imperial forces took notice of them.

(Death Knight) “The Phantom Thieves are here...? You, send a report to the Emperor!”

...

Once Edelgard and her company took out the squad in the middle, an Imperial soldier ran to her.

(Soldier) “Milady, the ballistae have already been completely wiped out, and enemy forces are dealing with a third group inside! Reports indicate its the Phantom Thieves!”

(Edelgard) “What?!”

Byleth came in from behind and shook his head.

(Byleth) “I couldn’t find Akira and the others, they just disappeared!”

(Edelgard) “Where-...wait a minute, could they?-”

Her thoughts were interrupted when a bus came barreling through.

(Familiar Girl’s Voice) “S-SORRY EVERYONE!”

(Familiar Punk’s Voice) “SHIT MAN!”

Spinning around, the bus exploded into a cloud of smoke, revealing 3 figures and a cat.

(Byleth) “Identify yourselves!”

Looking up, they all had masks that was hard to make out their faces, but their hair...

No one had time to get a good luck and recognize them when 2 golems headed their way.

(Soldier) “INCOMING!”

The 3 figures and cat turned around, reaching for their masks.

(Everyone) “PERSONA!”

4 shadows emerged from them and flew towards the golem, using a combination of slicing and spells to wipe them out, with a fireball and tornado wiping out one while a bolt of lightning wiped out the others.

The wings of the boy in black’s shadow blew an incoming squad away and straight into the walls.

The boy made sure not to say a word and moved through the main gate of the Monastery.

(Byleth) “I’m going after them!”

(Edelgard) “Professor, wait!”

Before she could follow, Edelgard heard someone’s voice scream out.

(Dimitri) “EDELGAAAAARD!”

Slamming his lance against her shield, she knew that he wasn’t going to stop until either of them were dead.

She quietly muttered to herself.

(Byleth) “...Akira, Byleth, please be careful...”

Finally making it to the final room, Catherine was blown back by an explosion while Cyril fell to the floor, covered in frost.

[Blood of Villain - Persona 5]

(Rhea) “They’re still alive...You play an interesting game, Phantom Thieves.”

Everyone noticed that her eyes were yellow instead of green.

(Futaba) “D-Did her shadow merge with her real self?!”

(Ryuji) “Tch, she was already powerful enough!”

Byleth ran in, and stood beside Akira, drawing his sword.

(Rhea) “YOU, I WILL MAKE SURE YOU DIE BY MY HANDS! I WILL RIP YOUR HEART OUT OF YOUR CHEST!”

(Byleth) “Heh, kinda upset I didn’t realize you all were the Phantom Thieves beforehand...”

(Akira) “Little slow there, teach! But hope that isn’t true when it comes to this fight! As for you, you have anything to say Rhea?! For all the lives you’ve taken?!”

(Rhea) “THOSE WHO OPPOSE THE CHURCH WILL BE CRUSHED WITHOUT MERCY. I CARE NOT FOR YOUR OPINIONS...No matter...Thanks to your appearances, I can now get rid of all my problems at once! Phantom Thieves, the Empire, Byleth...Your crimes will not go unpunished!”

(Ann) “That’s our line, you psychotic bitch! Enforcing your law on everyone and killing them as soon as they disagree?! You’re the one in the wrong!”

(Rhea) “You have NO idea what I’ve suffered! THE EMPIRE WORKS WITH THOSE WHO SLITHER IN THE DARK, AND I WILL NEVER FORGIVE ANY WHO WORK WITH THEM.”

(Yusuke) “So, it would seem that she refuses to admit the fault in her logic.”

(Haru) “I can’t say that I’m surprised!”

(Makoto) “Words are meaningless, we gotta let our fists do the talking!”

[Blooming Villain - Persona 5]

(Rhea) “THEN ALL OF YOU WILL DIE!”

(Akira) “EVERYONE, LET’S FINISH THIS!”

Byleth rushed first, slamming the Sword of the Creator against Rhea's dagger.

She kicked him away, her strike hurting far more than he anticipated and flew back near the stairs.

(Akira) "ARSENE, TAKE HER DOWN!"

(Ann) "DANCE, CARMEN!"

Both of them took off their masks and summoned their Personas, Carmen igniting the area around Rhea as Arsene used its foot blade to cut her.

Wounded from the cut and bits of cloth and skin on fire, she ran through it and fired a spell at Arsene, making it stagger back.

Akira clenched his teeth as he felt the pain Arsene did, the spell hitting the shoulder hard.

Ann used her whip and swung it at Rhean which wrapped around Rhea's dagger.

Yanking it back, the whip flew out of her hand and into the floor.

Before Rhea rushed forward, she noticed that the rest of the Phantom Thieves were nowhere to be seen.

She leaped onto the air as bullets flew and hit the wall where she was, everyone pointing their guns at her.

Yusuke kept the pressure on her with his assault rifle, the bullets coming too rapidly for her to try anything.

When Rhea landed, she used her dagger to deflect a bullet, seeing Makoto attempting to make precise shots.

Rhea dashed towards Makoto and threw a fist out, which was caught by Makoto's arm, and whiffed to the side of her head.

Makoto kept her in place as she took off her mask, and a blinding blue light was underneath them.

Headbutting Makoto away, Rhea dodged the explosion by rolling away as she was barely caught by it.

Looking upwards, Ryuji, Morgana, and Haru had their Personas out, and Rhea was blinded by a psychokinesis spell.

Morgana's persona thrusted its rapier at her, but managed to dodge every single strike.

(Ryuji) "CAPTAIN KIDD!"

A cannon shot out of its arm, and hit Rhea in the stomach, making her crash through a wall.

Quickly getting up, Rhea tried to anticipate the next attack and barely managed to catch Yusuke's katana with her hand.

Joker came from behind and had Arsene grab her by the neck and slam her against the floor, sliding her and tossing her up onto the ceiling, making it crack with the impact.

Byleth jumped in and used the whip function of his sword to strike her midair, leaving a nasty wound across her chest.

Despite such a harsh assault, she managed to land on both her feet, looking at the Phantom Thieves.

Seeing her hands covered in blood, she clenched her teeth and her eyes widened with rage.

(Akira) "Surrender Rhea, you have lost!"

(Rhea) "No...NO! I WILL NEVER SURRENDER!"

(Futaba) "She's weak guys, LET'S FINISH THIS!"

(Akira) "ON ME!”

All of them hopped back and prepared for a final assault.

Drawing their weapons they all rushed her at once, striking at her weak and wounded spots in the blink of an eye.

Joker landed in front of Byleth, adjusting his gloves as Rhea’s body started shaking.

[Song End]

Rhea collapsed to the ground, not being able to stand up after that onslaught. 

Byleth nodded in thanks, and moved towards Rhea, pointing his sword at her.

Edelgard and the other Black Eagles moved in, surrounding her with the Phantom Thieves.

(Edelgard) “So, it really is you guys.”

(Akira) “Surprised?”

(Edelgard) “Not particularly. But, that’s for another time. Rhea. By the order of the Adrestian Empire, you will be imprisoned. This fight is over, you have lost.”

(Rhea) “No...”

Her body shook violently again, with her looking straight at Edelgard.

(Rhea) “NO! YOU WILL DIE! GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-”

The pressure she exerted pushed everyone back.

With her shape changing form, she towered over everyone.

(Edelgard) “Damn it! EVERYONE, RETREAT!”

Everyone started running out, with Byleth and the Phantom Thieves keeping her occupied.

(Edelgard) “EVERYONE, COME ON!”

(Akira) “Oracle, escape route for us? If she chases us, then everyone outside’s done for!”

(Futaba) “I can’t find any! Dang it, come on!”

(Ryuji) “Tch...I think there’s only one way out of here for them.”

Everyone turned to Ryuji, but realized what he meant.

There was no other way.

(Akira) “Professor, go. They need you!”

(Byleth) “What?! What about you all?!”

(Akira) “Don’t worry about that, you just gotta-”

Rhea began charging up a beam from her mouth, and Byleth spun around and activated the whip function, slicing at a massive pile of debris above them, cutting off the Black Eagles from them.

(Akira) “...I see.”

(Edelgard) “Everyone, what the hell are you doing?!”

(Byleth) “Hah...It’s all right. Now, get out of here!”

(Edelgard) “No, I won’t accept this! WE’RE NOT LEAVING YOU ALL BEHIND!”

(Akira) “Then we have to make you. ARSENE!”

Appearing outside the rubble, it closed its wings, using the pressure of the wind to send them flying away.

(Edelgard) “NO! LET ME STAY! BYLETH, AKIRA! NO!”

Byleth and Akira had a self-mocking smile, as they turned around.

(Akira) “Everyone, it’s been a good run.”

(Ryuji) “I don’t wanna die but...Hah, I’m glad I’m at least dying together with you all.”

(Ann) “You idiots were the best thing that happened to me, you know that?”

(Yusuke) “I concur...with you all, my life found its meaning.”

(Makoto) “I’m proud to have fought for justice with everyone.”

(Haru) “May we all meet again in a better life...”

(Morgana) “I guess this is goodbye then...Hey, Byleth...Thanks for everything too.”

(Byleth) “All of you...”

The Phantom Thieves turned around to Byleth.

(Byleth) “I’m proud to have been your teacher.”

Rhea fired the beam at them, everyone accepting their fate.

However, the beam reflected onto the ground from an unknown force, shattering the ground around them.

Rhea managed to fly away from it, albeit heavily injured but the rest of the Phantom Thieves and Byleth were surprised.

(Ryuji) “You gotta be effin’ kidding me! IS THIS FOR REAL?! AFTER ALL WE SAID, WE DIE TO SOME GOD DAMN RO-”

Before everyone could process that they were still alive, the ground beneath them collapsed, sending them into the bottomless canyon below.

(Everyone) “AAAAAAAH!” “SHIIIIIIT-” “WOAAAAH!? “GAAAAAAAAAH-”

...

...

...

[onewaigu]

Like Magic

Genre : predebut!au

Theme : mild fluff(?)

Pairing : Bang Chan X Reader (not really)

Description : all you knew was that every time you took the no. 4419 bus back home, he would always be there, cladded in all-black, sitting exactly two rows in front of you. that was, until he no longer rode the bus.

“Right on time”, you said to yourself as your eyes followed a boy, probably a few years older than you, boarding the same no. 4419 bus.

No, you weren't a creepy stalker. No, you were simply an observant person and for some apparent reason, this boy had always caught your eyes for as long as you had been taking this bus back home from school.

How could anyone not take notice of him? The boy practically stuck out like a sore thumb. He was always wearing black everything. Except for his chains.

“Bet his wardrobe looks like an empty void”, you chuckled at the thought.

He exuded a mysterious yet intriguing aura. Something that certainly pulled you in.

Like always, his stop was a stop before yours and the bus journey usually took about half an hour to get there. Any person would've taken the opportunity to steal a quick nap but, he wasn't any person.

He would usually take out his laptop or launchpad before slipping on headphones. With the noise from outside world muted, his fingers would begin to move meticulously and rhythmically to whatever beat he was making.

You for one, somehow had missed the memo since birth of being naturally talented in music. While your family played their respective instruments, the only music you had ever made naturally would be the sound of unpleasant snoring. Despite your lack of musical consciousness, you were always interested in music.

You admired how the back of his head stood still, concentrating hard to find the right pitches.

The little curls at the nape of his neck would slightly bounce whenever the bus hit a bump. Cute.

Sometimes when he seemed to be in his zone, the music he made could be heard. You were interested in his diverse taste in music genres. You wanted to know more. Who were his favourite artists? Did he upload any of the songs he made online? Was he planning on becoming an artist? So many questions but you felt that the chances of you actually having a conversation with him was little to none.

You sighed, letting your eyes close till you reached your stop.

The next day though, was a little bit different than ordinary.

No. 4419 bus was almost packed. The bus before had broken down so the passengers transferred buses. Luckily for you, you managed to catch a seat, with an empty one beside you.

You sat there in silence, taking in the view of the busy streets of Seoul through the bus window. The day was fairly cold as the year approached its end so the windows were slightly frosted.

The kid in you convinced yourself to draw little stick figures on them as a way to pass time. You were busy perfecting the stick figures' hair when you heard someone coughed beside you. You turned your head to the sound of it, only to be staring at a pair of beautiful dark brown eyes. Oh. It's him. It's the mysterious Beethoven. He was sitting next to you. Oh.

“Nice drawing you got there”, he smiled widely. At that moment, you saw them— chin dimples. He had adorable chin dimples. You swore your heart skipped a beat. You were a sucker for dimples and him having them was just perfect.

“Uh, it's n-nothing”

“It's just..water and..science?”, you mentally face-palmed at your own dumb reply. Way to go, Y/N.

“Well water scientist, my name's Chris”

There it was. He had an accent. A nice accent at that.

“Y/N”

Then came awkward silence. You weren't a social butterfly so that would explain why you were more of the observing type. However, the silence didn't last long cause Chris decided that he wanted to share some demos he made with you. He wanted an unbiased opinion on them hence you were the perfect candidate. You didn't mind at all. Truthfully, you couldn't believe that any of this was happening. Just the day before, you were wondering about his musical preferences. The next thing you knew, you were sharing an airpod with him, listening to one of his original works. How convenient.

After that day, you somehow became his unofficial critic on every single bus ride. Even though you were sometimes exhausted from school, you didn't show it in front of Chris. You didn't want to ruin the look he always had whenever he talked about his passion in music. His face would lit up like Christmas lights and you would always listen intently. Seeing him in his happy place warmed your heart. Maybe a little too much.

Days gone by and the both of you were still at it with the same routine. Only difference was, Chris seemed like he had something on his mind. It might not be something necessarily bad but you wanted to make sure he was okay. But every time you tried to poke something out of him, he would shrug it off.

“You worry too much, Y/N”, his shoulder nudged yours playfully.

You could only smile at his words. You hoped that whatever he's going through, he'd be okay eventually.

You weren't okay. You were worried. For the past few weeks, you didn't see Chris boarding the usual no. 4419 bus. The first week, you thought that maybe he was ill. The second week, you thought that maybe he felt like taking the train. The weeks after, you gave up thinking of possibilities.

You sighed.

What went wrong? The moments you spent with Chris were the best moments of your 19-year-old life, even if they were as long as a bus journey back home. Chris was talented, passionate, dorky, and endearing. He made you feel things that you weren't aware of. And now he's gone.

“Poof, like magic”, you scoffed.

Was it real or just a dream? Either way, you missed it.

[a/n]

i'm sorry if this story makes no sense > < basically Chan disappeared bcos the boys were preparing for their survival show :'(

(gif credits to yunhoed)

- i'm still not sure if i credited correctly so if i didn't, pls tell me so i can give proper credits

[mermaid-of-the-valley]

Don’t Be Afraid (Pre-Paternal Moxiety)

Backstory to my Superhero AU. How Patton and Virgil met.

He was hiding, in his mother’s old room. It was hardly the safest spot, but in his distress, it was the only place he could think of. Now his sister was stomping around the house looking for him. He hadn’t meant to use his powers. They just-

“Get out here, you little freak! When I tell you not to play around like that you listen!”

Happened.

“I know I raised you better than that! Would it kill you to be normal for five minutes!”

He covered his ears. There was nothing wrong with him… right?

“You selfish brat!” A bang startled a yelp from him and everything went quiet. Moments later the noise redoubled at the door. “I know you’re in there, and if you don’t come out now, I’ll report you to the Collectors! Don’t pretend it wouldn’t do me any favors!”

He retreated further, sealing himself in the closet. It smelled like perfume and moth balls. They’d seen him playing with his shadow, the people his sister had wanted to take him in, and they’d run out convinced that he was possessed.

Maybe he was. It would certainly explain some things.

She gave him to the count of three. The blood rushed in his ears.

Then he heard her paper puppet slip under the door. The lock clicked open and he heard her come in.

His heartrate shot up; this was it. She’d never forgive him for this one. The knob turned.

A draft of air hit his face as he looked up. There, standing like an avenging angel with a papyrus body guard, was his sister. With the light at her back he couldn’t make out her expression. She must have said something, but for the life of him he couldn’t hear it over the sound of his own breaths.

The puppet reached for him.

He screamed.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Logan had just started rinsing the shampoo from his hair when an obnoxious series of tones railed through his bedroom. He stumbled in a sudsy mess over the tub’s rim, barely avoiding the door frame as he grabbed the beeping device before it could alert his roommates. He spent several precious seconds squinting at the screen before he realized he’d left his glasses by the sink.

Once that, completely reasonable and not at all embarrassing, scene was handled, Logan read the digital scroll.  A set of coordinates, the request for assistance from all available heroes, and the presumed hazard level of the emergency in question. That was perhaps the most alarming aspect. The level was somewhere among 6 to 7. The former due to the need for evacuation and the latter due to the phenomenon steadily expanding. The actual casualties were, as of yet, unknown.

Logan allowed himself the very short mercy of a quick spray from the shower to disperse the rest of the soap. There was no time to waste! He was half way from his bedroom door before he realized.

…Clothes, he still needed clothes. Newton, he hated working without coffee.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, across town, Patton was awake and working. He’d actually been up since 4:30 to catch the morning rush at the bakery. The tiny tv in kitchen was buzzing with the sounds of gossip and talk shows when he heard the breaking news screech.

“All residents of the Bellmara area are ordered to evacuate immediately. An incident of potentially villainous inception is developing in the lower sector and expanding at a fixed rate. Citizens are to remain away while the appropriate response is mounted. More information to be determined.”

The message continued to repeat with obnoxious alerts breaking in intermittently to draw attention. The other bakers and decorators whispered in concern. Patton wiped some flour from his hands and surreptitiously glanced down at his watch. The digital numbers remained as they had always been, no shift or sign of detail.

Patton frowned. This seemed like a big deal, shouldn’t they be calling in everyone?

“Oh! Guys, guys look!” Patton’s eyes snapped back up as a coworker with a rainbow frosting bag waved for their attention.

The screen switched to an aerial view. Several houses on a street were engulfed or being engulfed by a cloud of black mist. Thin wisps swirled and swiped around an epicenter that could not be determined, and even from the grainy footage, Patton could see that the radius was ever so slowly expanding outwards.

“Authorities have determined the emergency is power based!” Shouted the on-site reporter over the whirring of her chopper. “Efforts to breach have apparently been met with unusual resistance, but no injuries have been verified!” The scene spun around the phenomena. “There are no gaps that we can see, bu-“

A tendril of smoke made a wide arc near them and the helicopter was forced back, disrupting their words as the reporter and cameraman braced themselves in the cabin.

One more look down at his wrist. Nothing. Okay, this was ridiculous! He couldn’t just wait around for a summons when people were in trouble. With another glance at his coworkers, Patton slipped out the back door.

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Logos was staring up at the tempest when a pastel colored hero rode up on a motorcycle with an equally baffling color scheme. The figure swung of the bike and popped off his helmet, revealing his domino masked face and curly blond hair.

He gave the technopath a grin and a wave. “Hiya! Logos, right?” He held out his hand.

Logos reacted without thinking, shaking his colleague’s hand. “Um, yes. Good to meet you…” He took notice of the large P pasted to the front of the uniform. “Patriarch?” Why call in an empath?

“Oh, I actually pronounce it Pat-triarch!” He corrected with a giggle, like he was sharing a private joke with himself.

“So, with a French lean? I will endeavor to remember your preferred pronunciation.” He realized they were still holding hands and jerked away. “My apologies.”

“No worries, Kiddo.” Logos played with something on his suit cuff. “Have you figured out how to get in there?”

Logos frowned. “Well, therein lies the problem.” He approached a thinker wall of the mist and reached in.

Patriarch watched curiously as an exact copy of Logos hand reached out above his own and pushed the hero away, retracting back at the same time he did. “The thin parts of the barrier are imperfect lashes that push away and the thicker parts create perfect reflections with the same effect. I have been attempting to calibrate a device that the matter will not perceive to see the inside.” He picked up a piece of gravel and tossed it unimpeded through the wall. “Inorganic matter does not evoke a reaction.”

Patriarch hovered over his shoulder to see the technopath making gestures over his cuff, like flipping the pages of a book or adding pieces of something only he could see. Finally, he presses down on the outline of disk and sections of the metal spring up into the shape of a sp-

“Spider!” Logos jerked his head towards the exclamation finding Patriarch decidedly further away.

“What?” He shifted his gaze between the little robot and the cowering man. “Fear not. I assure you that while my device might appear arachnidan in nature it is not in fact-”

“Please! Please just- I am terribly afraid of those little…” He made a shooing motion at the probe. “Monsters. And I would much rather stand way over here.”

“I- very well.” Logos shuffled as close the wall as he could before directing the probe down his hand and into the barrier. He then showed the other hero his empty fingers and was allowed to move next to him. The technopath drew up a small screen for Patriarch to see what he could through his A.I.’s lens. At first it was nothing but blackness, but soon thin spots of color began to peek in between the thick clouds. Logos directed the probe forward with a thought.

The thin patches became more and more noticeable the further the bug went until the shape of a home could be discerned. “Whatever this vapor is, it is not capable of filling space without dispersing to an extent. I suspect the phenomena is only capable of defending itself at the outermost edges.”

A pulse emanated from the structure, stirring the vapor at the windows and reverberating out. They watched as it flew past the probe and saw moments later when it hit the barrier from the inside, pushing it several near imperceptible inches forward. Patriarch hissed beside him. His hands folded over his chest.

“Oh. Logos, I think someone’s in there.” His blinked rapidly, wetness present in his eyes. “They’re so scared.”

Logos flicked a finger and the camera’s vision became highlighted with thermal colors. Sure enough, in one of the upper level rooms was a white and red splotch, pacing. “It appears we have found our source, though what motive they might have for subsuming a neighborhood I do not know.” He turned to his companion, but instead found him marching intently towards the barrier. “Patriarch?”

“You said it doesn’t react to inorganic stuff, right?” He asked, slipping off a glove and flapping it through the mist a few times to test.

“Yes, but,” He waved up and down the empath. “You ARE organic.”

“Yeah, but whoever is in there needs help and your little robot can’t talk to them. I want to see if I can trick the lock.”

“How?”

“I’m going to shield the emotions and energy I give off and see if I can stretch the definition of inorganic.” He pressed the sides of his domino and the mask stretched to cover his face and hair down to the neck. When every inch of skin was covered, Patriarch focused. If one looked close enough, they might see the air around the hero heat rapidly and then go flat.

He reached out to the wall, only the material of his suit being perceived, and pressed in. No copy sprang forth to defend the perimeter. A foot edged forward, no response. Patriarch inhaled and slipped right through the mist.

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Inside it was just like the footage. Waves of shadow floating in odd, uncontrolled directions, but nowhere near as firmly as the outside. He took a few more steps forward and released a breath. He started forward, carefully feeling his way along the roadway and cautiously stepping onto the curb.

The spaces between became more pronounced. He squinted through the lenses of his mask at a label on the house’s mailbox. ‘Shae’. Not much to go on, but it was a start. He moved on up what he assumed to be the driveway and then the walkway to the front stoop. He decided to test his theory there, opening himself up the interference of the dome and its occupant. His mask peeled back to its original position. Still no reaction, but now the air was palpable with a myriad of negative emotions.

Grief. Fear. Sadness. Regret. All of these came at him in waves. Patriarch tried the doorknob. Unsurprisingly locked like the vapor, but not very easily jimmied.

Something crawled over his boot.

Patton kicked out with a yelp and the thing hit the door hard. He watched with horror as Logos’ little spider-bot flailed on its back with its limbs wriggling. After a couple seconds the joints stilled abruptly, rotating to stand in a new manner with the camera tilting up. The lens ‘blinked’.

“…Sorry?” The empath squeaked. The machine ambled to the side of the porch and crawled up a small rock. It tapped in a circle on the top of the stone and then scampered off. Tipping it revealed a plastic hatch.

Patton retrieved the key from its hiding place and then bashfully thanked the air around him in case Logos tiny friend happened to be nearby. The door was unlocked, and he stepped inside.

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The emotions were far more present in the house along with the scent of mildew and… paper? He called out as loudly as he dared. “Hello?”

Terror. A wave of it pouring from the staircase. Patton couldn’t tell whether it was because of him or not though. It shifted the smoke still inside the foyer and lightly rattled the wood of the door behind him. Distress. Grief. Sadness. He followed the negative feelings up the stairs.

They emanated most strongly from a room at the top of the steps. The door was cracked and hanging open by a single intact hinge like it had been blown back in the wrong direction by the force behind it. Patton winced at the sound of sobbing. He got as close to the frame as he dared before peering in.

A kid, probably barely a teen, was curled in on himself. He was gasping and crying over every breath. He would sometimes seem to gain some calm only to pitch forward with renewed horror spilling out.

That was the only way Patton could think to describe it later as thick black vapor would spill from the boy’s mouth with each wave of panic.

The room was in great disarray, objects scattered against the walls, scraps of fabric and paper strewn about the floor and- a mass encased in front of the boy. The empath swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

After a moment’s consideration, he knocked on the door frame. No change. The teen was still spiraling, powers and emotions flapping around like the disjointed mess in the room. Patton went in, approaching slowly and knelt down next to him.

“Hey.” A slight hitch in the breaths. “It’ll be okay. You don’t need to be scared.” A sob. “I’m Patriarch.” He introduced. Shivers from the other party. “Easy, just try to breathe.” A heavy exhale. “Good, that’s good.”

Patton bit his lip, not completely sure how to proceed. “I’m- I’m going to count for you. Okay, Kiddo? Can you try to match me?”

Some confusion mixed with hesitance. His eyes jerked towards Patton for the first time, like he was trying to understand how the hero had gotten so close. “It’s okay,” He held up his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” He took a slow, deliberate breath. “Can you try to breathe with me? One… Two… Three… Four…”

There were some false starts before they managed to follow the pattern. The cries became less stilted and more firm. “That’s great, Kiddo. You’re doing really well.”

“Wh-who’re you?” He jolted back a few inches in jerky movements.

“Patriarch.” He repeated, unbothered. “I’m a superhero, Kiddo. I got worried that someone in here needed help.”

“M’not a kid.”

Patton smiled gently. “Aww, that’s just what I call everyone. I’m a Dad at heart. What would you prefer?”

“…Virgil.” He mumbled for the first time without the smoke. His eyes caught on the mass in front of him and his expression twisted in on itself. Looking around didn’t help the situation, and Patton rushed to prevent the new influx of grief from impacting them.

“Virgil, look at me. I need you to stay calm.”

A strangled whimper slipped out. “I’m sorry. I don’t- I didn’t mean to-” A puff of vapor that Virgil fought to hide with his hands. “I can’t make it stop! She was so mad, I just wanted her to leave me alone!”

Patton tapped his hand lightly to regain his attention. “Virgil, I’m an Empath. I can tell where this is coming from. If you want me to, I can help you control this and then we’ll help her.” That last part was iffy, but they couldn’t do anything if Virgil kept panicking.

Virgil made hard eye contact with him, no doubt weighing his concerns with Patton’s promises. Another flicker of fear jumped across the air and, with the same force of will he’d shown in hiding his power’s expression, he shoved it back. “Fine, fine! Just do it! Whatever it is!”

Patton made all of his movements slowly, giving the kid time to opt out. His fingertips settled against Virgil’s temples.

Scared. Regret. Bad.

The feelings flew forward immediately, much clearer now. Patton could trace how they affected his powers, pushing and crashing like an ocean storm. It explained how they were slipping out of control. He asked Virgil to focus on his breathing once more, and directed a series of calm waves at the turbulent source. It thundered in response, equally reactive to the diminishing negativity and Patton’s efforts.

Even so, it was growing dormant. The mist still hovering in the room coalesced together and started fizzling away. The darkest shadow beside them crumbled like dust.

Inside was a black-haired woman wrapped up in paper, ripped at the edges and stained with signs of struggle against the dark matter. The barrier fell around her.

She was still breathing, thank goodness. His relief echoed back at him. Glancing up, he could see Virgil was crying.

A bang rattled the house as the front door burst open. Patton bit back a curse at the reflexive power surge that was startled out of Virgil, reassuring him with nonsense platitudes and soothing pulses. “I got you, kidd- Virgil… Sorry. It’s probably just the med team for her.”

Bootsteps on the stairs, closer, closer. Patton turned, desperate not to disappoint the younger super. Logos stood in the doorway, a stark contrast to the riot gear covered police behind him.

Patton squeezed Virgil’s shoulder and grinned up at the technopath. “Hey, Logos! Great timing, we need some paramedics up here for…” He trailed off, realizing he didn’t yet know the girl’s name and eyed Virgil for help.

“Lavinia, but she prefers Vinnie.” He mumbled, darting his gaze back to his sister.

Patton leapt back in, keeping his tone as light as possible. “Right. Well, you heard me! Go get some help for Vinnie. Please.”

Logos reiterated the instructions much more forcefully and the officers behind him split, one half going back down stairs and the other half following him into the room. Logos personally approached Lavinia and maneuvered her into a recovery position. The lack of reaction from her incited another sob from Virgil. “Please keep calm. It is not uncommon for injuries sustained to prevent immediate response and she seems to be stable.”

Patton could have hugged the man for his unflappable demeanor. Virgil’s emotions deescalated with his assurances in a way Patton wouldn’t have expected from the dark boy. It must have been the certainty Logos spoke with, it definitely put Patton more at ease.

The EMTs arrived in short succession and took over for the supers. Lavinia was rolled onto the backboard and lifted away. Scraps of paper floated after them on an invisible breeze and Virgil’s whole posture loosened at the display. “I- I almost. She almost-”

Logos put a hand on his opposite shoulder, urging him to stand. “You don’t have to explain yet. There will be time enough for that later.” It was slow going out of the home. Not least of which because of Virgil’s apprehension and the police herding them outside.

Virgil barely stepped over the threshold when everything went to hell. City officials and paparazzi pressed into the flimsy caution tape to get a better look, flashes and sirens disorienting him. He was brought suddenly to the ground. A hand grabbed the back of his neck. Something pricked his skin. There was a rush of cold and then everything turned fuzzy.

Patton should have known that the cops were being too docile, but Virgil’s emotions were so much more intense than the surface level calm being projected. He was shoved from the kid before his foot left the porch and Logos had only seconds before the same happened to him. The empath caught himself on the walk and spun back to see Virgil roughly restrained on his stomach, head jerked to side and a needle being pushed into his skin.

“What are you doing?! Get off of him!” It was Logos, surprisingly, whom screamed first, rushing at the team he’d lead only moments earlier. More officers blocked him. “He wasn’t a threat anymore; you have no right! Get away!” The older heroes could only watch in horror as Virgil’s hair was released and his head dropped forward without support. “What was that?!”

The man holding Virgil’s arms finally responded. “A sedative. You saw what this punk was capable of. He’s going into lock up.”

“He’s a child. He didn’t intend any of this. The last thing he needs is to be treated like a criminal!” Patton interjected.

“Patriarch!”

Patton whipped around at the call. For a moment he was relieved. “Commissioner Sanders.”

A man in a truly horrible church suit stood by the ambulance Lavinia was being loaded in. He looked like he was trying to be stern. Patton felt less relieved. Thomas huffed a breath through his nose. “Come on, guys. See this from my point of view.”

“Wha- But!” Virgil was wrapped up in a restraint vest and hefted past them. “Hey! Wait! Commissioner you can’t just- I mean, he’s not! Gosh, words are hard!”

Logos jumped in. “What he’s trying to say is, we don’t think locking him up is the best decision. In fact, it would most likely only exacerbate what allowed his powers to spiral out of control. Surely you can understand that!”

The man watched the heroes closely and then switched to Virgil as he was loaded into the back of the police van. The boy slumped limply where he was placed, eyes glazed with the drug in his system. He didn’t look like a threat now, but that could change on a dime. There was a reason he was called to the scene after all. Thomas closed the door and knocked against the back of the van.

He tried not to flinch at Logan and Patton’s betrayed expressions. He sighed as the van pulled away. “Let’s talk.”

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His wrists hurt. Why was that? There were bracelets on them. Too tight. Why? Everything was so sloppy.

“Virge?”

Who?

“Come on, V. Push past it. We need to talk about some stuff.”

Someone had his hands. Did they put on the bracelets? No, wait that was…? He looked different than before. Where was his mask? “P-” He tried.

“Easy. I got you. Can you hear me? Understand me?”

He wasn’t quite sure if he nodded or just jerked his head from where it was falling.

“Can you move your fingers? Give me a squeeze if you understand.” He managed that much. “M’kay. Wearing off then. Virgil, I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

What happened? He didn’t fight, so why was he…? Eyes slid around the room. One of those cells with a mirror on the wall, like on Lavinia’s crime dramas.

“We talked it over with the commissioner. He’s willing to give you a shot, but we have to establish a few things first.”

This was an interrogation room. That should scare him. Why wasn’t he scared? Was it the bracelets? Patriarch? He didn’t seem the type, but then why was he here? Where was his sister? Was she okay?

“La-Lvini?” He choked.

“She’s still resting at the hospital, Virgil.”

Virgil surprised them both with how fast he pulled his right wrist free. “I need to see her!” A surge of something shot through him, but he was left suddenly winded as the force was stifled. It crumpled into a ball, putting pressure on his head until he curled over the table. Patriarch squeezed his other hand in sympathy.

“I’m sorry, Virge.” He repeated.

Virgil cringed. “What was that?”

“Backlash. Virgil, you have a profound amount of power, but what happened at your house made everyone nervous.” He pointed at the manacles. “These put a cap on how much you can do. I felt you panic, so I guess your power reacted past the limit.”

Virgil’s eyes bubbled with regret. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” They sat in silence waiting for the teen to regain control of his emotions. “Commissioner Sanders does too. But you didn’t see what we did. The way your powers reacted was bizarre and uncontrolled. Which means, people are scared.”

“Am I going to jail?”

“I don’t want you to. Logos and I think you could be great if you get ahold of those abilities, but you’d need to keep those on until we’re sure you do.”

“Can I stay at my house if I practice?”

“It’s not the easiest thing to figure out on your own. Plus, you’re still a minor. As long as Lavinia is in the hospital, you shouldn’t be alone.”

Virgil’s face scrunched. “How long is she going to be there?” Patton flicked his eyes around, debating with himself.

“I’m not sure, Virgil. She’s stable, just not very responsive.” He sighed. “Even when she wakes up, she’ll need to recuperate for a while. Do you have any other family at all that can take you in? Or any friends with powers?”

“…No. ‘Cause I’m wrong and scary. I only hang out with my own shadow.”

“You sound like you’ve heard that a lot.” Virgil looked away. “You could, I mean if you wanted to, I might be able to-”

Patriarch fumbled uselessly at the air like the perfect words would appear to him. Virgil frowned. “What?”

“Um, I could help? Teach you, I mean! Feelings are my thing, I’m sure I can handle that much.”

“Handle?”

“Mentor! I can mentor you in how to regulate your feelings and how they affect your abilities. You can even stay with me if you want!”

Virgil had gone wide-eyed.

Oh, did he just say that? Yes. Yes, he had. Did he mean it? Patriarch opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“I- You’re serious?”

“No, I’m Patton.” Oh. My. God. Why did he say that? “…Patton-ly heroic?” Smooth save.

A watery half-laugh slipped from his companion. “Nice try. I almost believed you for a minute there.”

“I still meant it!” And Patton was surprised to realize that it was true. He couldn’t live with himself if this kiddo ended up in the hoosegow when he could have done something about it. “I want to help you and if you need a place to stay in the process, then so be it.”

“If I say yes, can I get these things loosened? My fingers are going numb.” Virgil grumbled, flopping back in his chair and raising the bracelets with an air of apathy. Relief.

“No problem, Kiddo.” It may have been rocky, but at least it was a start.

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Backstory! Hope it was enjoyed. I’m going to pass out now.

[jellyfishdooter]

LISTEN

I HAVE VERY LOW IMPULSE CONTROL

In spite of the current community fire I give you this Rise of the Guardians AU

Character explanations/ mini story under the cut

So after watching Rise of the Guardians (one of my fav animated movies) I got the idea for an AU where the egos are like the Guardians of the JSE community.

Their designs are based off/ inspired by the characters in the movie but instead of just drawing the egos as those characters, I more so let them inspire re-creations of their outfits/ powers

Chase: Jack Frost- Guardian of Family

In the beginning he doesn’t see himself as a guardian. He’s a screw up, a washout. But even through his depression he tries to make others happy before himself. He does this by having fun and trying to get those in the community to join in with him! It’s later on that he realizes he has a part to play and that his is making sure everyone is still together as one big community. He’s here to remind us that in troubling times that we all have each other- that we’re all family.

JBM: Santa- Guardian of Hope

Being the super hero of the group, it’s JBM’s job to protect the innocent and give off the appearance of being something people can depend upon- someone who can protect everyone from danger. He helps the community become strong and makes them laugh along the way (even if he has to make a fool of himself to do it, he loves our smiles)- he gives them hope.

Marvin: Tooth Fairy- Guardian of Creativity (Sams: small Tooth Fairies)

Much like tooth fairy in the movie, it’s Marvin’s job to collect fanart/ fanworks and store them so when the community forgets all that they have built together, he shows them. Not only that, he inspires the content creators and represents their passion for their art. And it’s what he protects. (Along with the help of the little Sams who are the ones who actually collects and re-distributes it so everyone can see what they’ve made.)

Jameson: Sandman- Guardian of Positivity

Arguably one of the most important guardians of the community, JJ is there to remind people the importance of PMA. In his own quiet ways, he encourages the members to think on the bright side- or is just there to give hugs and be there for them. Whenever someone is in such a dark place, he uses his powers to show them that they still have so much potential and that they’re not alone. He give them a light in a dark place to hold onto. (Yes, he uses sign language AND the sand symbols for those who don’t understand sign)

Schneep: Bunny- Guardian of Health

Being the good doctor of the group, he’s there to remind the community to take care of themselves. Yes he may be a lil aggressive in the way he gives out advice, but for a lot of people they need their butts a little kicks to get them moving to help themselves. But not only physical health, he’s also willing to sit down and talk about mental health and analyze what the problem is/ works to help you understand how to improve yourself.

Anti: The Boogieman- “Guardian” of Fear and Chaos

And last but not least, our dear little firestarter. For so LONG he’s waited, waited to be in the spotlight. Before the other egos show up it was just him and it was delicious. He had so much power as he fed off of our fears, insecurities, and of course the headcanons and theories we made about him. But then Jack HAD to make more egos and fill the community with positivity and light. So he sunk back and waited for his opportunity- he waited for his powers to grow strong in the background. And with all of the hints being dropped and community fueling the fire in a continuous positive feedback loop, he gains more and more strength every day. He reminds the community not everything is peachy and rosy. That there are awful things in the world and how you’re just a tiny ripple in a storming ocean. Insignificant. He doesn’t want to stamp out the community- that would be counterproductive. No he just wants them to feel fear for the channel- that nothing is safe anymore- at any turn he could be there. And with that everything always comes back to him.

And sooner or later, the others will fade away...

Extra Headcanons/ Tidbits:

Before they were all guardians they were other people. (TW: death and suicide mentions) -Anti was a reckless criminal and one night his “friends” betrayed him, leaving him behind which wound up being the end of him. They were running from the police and were trying to jump a tall fence when his comrades left the struggling man behind to take the fall. He did in more ways than one. -JBM was just a regular dude, but he sacrificed himself to save a kid getting hit by a bus in the city. Even though he was about to die he kept asking if the kid was okay. The medics told him he saved them and that’s all he needed to hear. -Marvin was a street magician in his time. He did tricks to cheer up people sitting on the sidewalk/ sitting alone and talked to them about their passions. Later the same people would come back and tell him about the new job they got or the current project they were working on. He pulled a teen off the side of a bridge and a local cop mistook it for him attacking her and.. well.. things escalated quickly -Henrik was an upstanding surgeon. He saved lives every day in his career. Even though his wife and child left him, he worked every day to become a better doctor and continued to save people. And after the surgeries he would personally counsel the patients to make sure they were okay physically and mentally. But one day.. they didn’t have a matching organ for the patient on standby.. and he knew he matched the credentials. -Jameson was a small movie star in his time. And when he wasn’t filming he went down in quiet to lift the spirits of homeless children and teens. He would put on small performances and then go around to each of them and comfort them if they said it was okay. He made sure by the end of his visit they were all in high spirit. But one day the filming studio caught fire. The smoke damaged his lungs so he couldn’t call out before the building collapsed. -And Chase... He had a loving wife and two kids who he cared for with his life. He vowed to himself to protect them, even though his wife turned into a bitch as the years went on. One night they were walking home from a day at the amusement park and Chase got jumped with his kids nearby. The criminal threatened to kill the kids if Chase didn’t comply. So to protect them, he did as the criminal said, handing over his wallet and watch and phone. And when the criminal was about to kill one of them anyway, instinct took over and Chase knocked the man down and knocked him out- but when he fell the gun went off

The lights on the globe are the septiclights, each one representing a person in the community

Instead of holidays, the guardians help in the background of charity livestreams and videos to give them that little extra spark.

Sean is the equivalent of the Man in the Moon

The extra fan-made egos (like Robbie, Shawn, Angus, and Bing) are still around, they just aren’t the big guardians.

If they were tho... Robbie- Guardian of Innocence, Shawn- Guardian of Voice, Angus- Guardian of... idk, Protection? Or maybe head cannons lol, Bing- Guardian of Online Connections

When too much of the community becomes afraid/ depressed, the guardian’s form changes (like in the movie) before they disappear -JBM: Becomes weaker, probably needs his glasses to see again, basically turned into a comicbook nerd -Marvin: Loses a lot of his color, magic goes away, turns into a cat? -Henrik: Hands continuously shake, gains a stutter so people can hardly understand him, becomes super paranoid/ closed off -JJ: His colors fade to black and white, it’s really hard to summon his powers, always about to cry/ wants to scream -Chase: Goes into a low state of depression, isolates himself a lot -Anti: His bravado diminishes- basically turns into an edgy teen with spasms instead of actual glitches, wound on his neck closes.

Like in the movie there’s a point where Anti takes over (like right now) and everyone’s powers start to fade

To make this angsty(er) he manages to kill JJ and he disappears, along with the light of positivity in the community.

Chase blames himself for not being fast enough to save him

To turn thing around Henrik suggests a charity livestream to promote a mental health organization. So they all work together to prep

A young community member somehow gets into Henrik’s realm

Memes and shenanigans ensue

“We spend all our time trying to protect the community, we don’t HAVE TIME-... for the community..?”

Chase runs off after young familiar voices calling out for their daddy

Chase ends up in Anti’s realm of fear(the opening is in the woods under an abandoned computer desk). It’s a series of twisted hallways bathed in red light and entire walls of glitching computer screens that cast weird shadows

When Chase gets out he realizes all the equipment is destroyed and he wasn’t there to help

Henrik blames Chase and sad dad runs off.

The community is plunged into a state of fire and fear and there’s no positivity anywhere to be found.

Except one last light...

A fan is talking to a Sam plushie, saying that yeah they understand why the stream COULD have been cancelled.. but everything in their life is just so dark they were really looking forward to it.

Chase finds them and uses his powers to make images of septic lights and funny moments in Jack’s videos

They realize it’s Chase who’s doing it and can see him

All the egos fight Anti with the help of a few community members beside them- giving them power to fight back.

The members bring back JJ

JJ kicks the ever living shit out of Anti with the help of the others beside him Okay I think I’ll stop here XD If you read all this... wowie!

[fireladybuckley]

Moments in the Woods

Fandom: Supergirl Pairing: Lena x Reader Prompt: “Snowy woods” for @musikat18‘s birthday challenge Word Count: 2598 Warnings: Nothing, it’s pure fluff <3

           The mid-afternoon sun throws golden beams of light around you as you walk, the snow glinting like diamonds as more of it crunches under your boots.  You draw your jacket a little tighter around yourself as a cool breeze playfully ruffles your hair, and you pull your toque down a bit so it covers your ears completely.   You hum to yourself as you walk, anticipation at what is to come bubbling in your chest.  You haven’t seen Lena in almost two years, and now you are finally going to get to spend some time with her.  You’d flown to National City to visit family but mostly because you’ve been lost without her;  your heart aches to think just how long you’d been apart.

           You slow as your destination comes into view.  A tree, so familiar to you when full of leaves, looks very different with all of its branches bare.  Still, the shape of its large, sturdy trunk brings back memories, and you smile as you come to a stop about twelve feet in front of it, looking up into its branches.   You pull a folded note out of your pocket with a mittened hand, unfold it and read it through once more, even though you know what it says by heart.

“Meet me in the woods.  You know the place. By that enormous ancient oak tree, the one where we buried our time capsule.”

           Folding the note back up again, you glance around as you stick it back into the pocket of your wool coat.  You seem to have beaten Lena here, and you shiver slightly as the breeze ruffles your hair again.  You take one more look around before tilting your head up to gaze into the tree’s branches again, your hands jammed into your pockets, hoping they’ll keep you warmer than just your woolen mitts.

           Out of nowhere you hear a slight whooshing noise, and before you can react, something hits you square in the back of the head.  You let out a surprised shriek as the snowball explodes on impact, nearly knocking your hat off your head and sending cold snow down your neck.  You whirl around in indignation to see Lena, half concealed behind a tree ten feet away, grinning.

           “Is that how you greet me after almost two years?!” You yelp, and Lena laughs.  “Ohh you’re going to regret that, Luthor,” you grumble, but you’re mostly playing.  Honestly you’re somewhat delighted by the greeting, as it allows for immediate banter and play.  You scoop up some snow and quickly compact it into a snowball, then straighten up to throw it only to receive another explosion of cold power to the chest.

           “AUGH!” you yell, flailing momentarily before taking aim.  Lena lets out a cry of laughter and spins away, your snowball hitting the tree behind her instead.  Letting out a yell of playful frustration, you quickly crouch and scoop up more snow, making a few snowballs, then stand, ducking and successfully avoiding a third throw from Lena.  

           “Ha!” you shout triumphantly, as your first throw explodes over her shoulder, peppering her face and hair with snow.  You throw another and miss; your third gets Lena in the back of the head and you throw your arms up into the air in victory.

           “Okay, truce, truce!” she calls, laughing.  You grin and brush off your mitts, then hurry towards her as she rushes towards you.  You meet in the middle and throw your arms around her, hugging her close as she encloses you in a tight bear hug.  You can feel tears stinging your eyes as you bury your face into her long, thick hair and hear her sniffle a little as she holds you close.

           “I missed you so much,” you mumble into her hair, and feel her squeeze you in response.

           “I missed you too,” she replies, slowly breaking the hug and moving back only far enough to be able to look at you, her eyes shining with joy.  “You’ve been gone far too long.”

           “I know,” you say, taking her gloved hands in yours, curling your mitts a little clumsily around her fingers.  “But guess what... I might be able to get a transfer to National City in the New Year!  I might be able to come home!”  Lena lets out a squeal and you’re immediately engulfed in another hug, which you happily return.

           “That would be amazing!” she exclaims as she pulls away, squeezing your hand.  “You must tell me all about everything!”

           “I will,” you say, smiling.  “But first... why are we meeting out here?  In the middle of winter?”   Lena smiles at looks up at the tree, her eyes filled with warmth.

           “Well, I feel like it’s sort of our tree,” she says, and you nod in agreement.  “Digging up that time capsule a few years ago was wonderful.  We’ve been friends for so long now.”  She squeezes your hand again and you squeeze back, nodding again.

           “Since we were nine,” you agree, smiling at the memory of the two of you as kids, and in your early teens, gossiping and giggling together.  Your first stolen kiss, right under the branches of this tree.

           “Well, I have a surprise for you.  Come on, we need to walk a bit,” Lena says, and she tugs on your hand, trying to lead you on.  You follow her willingly, falling into step beside her until holding hands became a little too difficult in the snow and you let go reluctantly, trying to keep your balance.

           It starts to snow, and you stare up into the tree branches as fat flakes float down around you, settling on everything.  Lena leads you through the snow for a good twenty minutes before she slows to a stop, looking down at something.

           “Hm,” Lena makes a noise that sounds somewhere between contemplative and concerned, and you step up beside her to see what she’s looking at.  She is peering down at something clutched in her hands, and you fully intended on looking to see what she was holding, but your eyes catch on her face and stay there.  Her hair, liberally covered with fresh snowflakes, frames her face, her cheeks rosy, her eyes bright.  She is so beautiful it makes your breath catch in your throat and you nearly forget about anything else until she makes another noise, her brow creasing as she looks down at the thing in her hand.

           Shaking yourself, you manage to tear your gaze away from her face and look down to see a compass in her gloved hands.  Making an incredulous face, you raise an eyebrow at her, as she looks at you with a mixture of ruefulness and worry.

           “Um, I think we might be lost,” Lena admits, and your eyebrow raises further, as you peer at her suspiciously.  Lena had always been a prankster when you were kids, and this was just like her.

           “Uh huh.  Compass not working?”  You ask, your tone expression much skepticism.

           “It’s fine, but I don’t recognize any of this,” Lena says, gesturing around.  She sounds genuinely worried now, and you feel your heart flicker with concern. “I think we went too far northwest.”

           “Oh,” you say, unsure.  You glance back the way you’d come, eyeing the trail you’d left behind.  “We could backtrack.  Where are we going, anyway?”

           “I don’t want to spoil the surprise.  Let’s just try it.” Lena says, and you follow her as she walks back down the way you’d just come.  Every once in a while Lena looks down at the compass and makes a concerned noise, and you dutifully follow her along for a good fifteen minutes before you start to get very concerned.  You’d taken a new path shortly after backtracking, and you’re starting to worry that Lena was truly lost.  You glance around nervously;  there’s maybe a half hour of sunlight left, and you feel a bit of fear creep into your chest.  The thought of being stuck in the woods at night, in the cold and snow, is terrifying.  You hurry to keep with Lena, about to ask her if maybe you should just go back for tonight, when she stops so abruptly that you walk into her from behind.   Her arm is immediately there to steady you, and you stare at her, wondering what was happening.

           “Look,” she says, pointing.  “There’s a cabin there.  We can ask them where we are.”

           “Er, Lena, I- I don’t think...” you trail off, unable to coherently explain why the thought of knocking on the door of a random cabin in the woods is freaking you out.

           “It’ll be fine, come on!” Lena reassures you, then grabs your hand and pulls you along.  Sighing, you follow, remembering just how strong willed Lena is as she drags you along behind her.

           As you approach, you see that the cabin is quite nice.  There’s a lovely porch out front with a bench and a small wood stove, and the windows, frosted from the cold, glowing in many colours from holiday lights within.  It didn’t seem like a murder cabin, at least, and you feel a little better about following Lena up the few steps towards the front door.

           Instead of knocking, as you expected, Lena instead fishes in the pocket of her jacket and brings out a small ring of keys.  You watch, your mouth falling slightly open, as she inserts a key into the lock and turns;  you hear a click as it unlocks, and make a noise of disbelief.  Lena turns to you, grinning, amusement glinting in her eyes.

           “Got you,” she says, before pushing the door open.  A rush of warm air, scented with cinnamon, cloves and other holiday smells washes over you, and you make a noise of indignation.

           “This is your cabin?” you ask, your voice higher in protest. “I thought you were lost!! Unbelievable,” you grumble, as she laughs and gestures for you to come inside.

           You step inside despite your indignation at being tricked, and feel yourself taking a deep breath.  The cabin smells incredible, the spicy scents you’d detected before mingling with the smell of burning wood from the crackling fireplace nearby.  The cottage is somewhat small but looks incredibly cozy, a couch and several chairs gathered around a coffee table by the fire, the furniture strewn with fluffy blankets.  Lena gestures to the boot rack, so you slip your boots off and follow her down a hallway, sliding a little on the smooth wood floor in your socks.

           “This place is adorable, Lena,” you say, indignation forgotten as you look around.  “It’s so...” you pause, at a loss for words to describe how welcoming and warm the cabin felt.  “so cozy.”

           “I couldn’t resist buying it when I saw the photos online and realized how close it was to our tree,” Lena says, showing you the bathroom, her bedroom, another bedroom.  You gape slightly as you realize your suitcase was sitting neatly in the corner of the room, and Lena chuckles as you look at her.

           “I had it brought over.  I thought we might want to stay here for a night or two,” she says, raising an eyebrow at you.  You grin and nod, then reach out for an impromptu hug.  Lena laughs and hugs you again, then leads you back to the porch area to store your jacket.

           “I have another surprise,” Lena says, and you follow her wordlessly, wondering how many wonderful things she was going to surprise you with today as you trailed after her through the kitchen and to the back porch.   You step outside as she gestures to do so, the cold from the wooden boards under your feet immediately sinking into your socks, but you gasp as you look around and spot what she’s pointing at.

           “Ah!  Hot tub!” you gasp, dancing on the spot, both from excitement and the cold under your feet.  “Can we go in now?”

           “Of course,” Lena agrees with a soft laugh.  She leads you back to your room and disappears into hers, and you meet a few minutes later in your bathing suits.  You admire her curves as she fishes a couple of pairs of flip-flops out of a nearby closet, watching her long black hair swishing around her shoulders as she moves.

           You spend several hours in and out of the hot tub, chatting and spending a long time just catching up, sitting yourself up on the side of the tub whenever you got too hot, letting the cold air attack your skin for as long as you could stand it and then sinking back into the water again.  The snow starts falling more heavily, and you move over to sit beside Lena, looking out into the trees as the snow falls  around you, melting as the flakes hit the steam rising from the hot tub.  You put your head on her shoulder after a while and she smiles, wordlessly moving her hand to gently stroke your thigh under the water.

           After a long time, the two of you were getting a little too wrinkly and sleepy after the excitement of the day, so you hurry inside, giggling and shrieking softly as the cold air prickles your hot, wet skin.  After getting changed, Lena makes you both steaming mugs of rich hot chocolate and you curl up by the fire with her, leaning against her side once more.  Lena puts on a holiday movie, but half an hour in you can barely keep your eyes open.

           “Here, lie on my lap,” Lena says, putting a soft cushion on her lap and patting it.  Happy to obey, you pull your feet up onto the couch and lower your head onto her lap, squirming a little until you’re comfortable.  Lena strokes your hair absently as she watches the movie and you spend the next hour fading in and out of blissful, light sleep, thrilled to not only be with Lena but be cuddling like this, lying in her lap.  It’s more than you could ever have wished for, and when the movie ends, you’re disappointed, despite having slept through most of it, because you know the evening is over.

           Ready for bed, you’re about to say goodnight to Lena and head to your room when she smiles at you and catches your hand.

           “Y’know, you don’t have to sleep in your bed,” Lena says softly, threading her fingers through yours.  You look up at her curiously, and she smiles again.

           “I have a king sized bed, and it’s pretty lonely by myself.  Care to join me?”  You smile slowly as you realize what she means and you nod, squeezing her hand back.  She leads you into her room and throws the covers back, and you get into bed, watching her as she changes into her pajamas (you’d already changed) and slides into the bed next to you.

           “Come here,” she says, after turning out the light and settling down onto her back.  She holds out an arm and you scoot closer, laying your head down on the crook of her shoulder, curling up along her side.  She loops the arm under you around your back and shuffles closer until you’re snuggled up close. Lena falls asleep almost as soon as she’s comfortable, and you listen to her soft, even breaths as you begin to drift off, hardly daring to believe you’re tucked in close at her side, your joy slowly fading into wonderful dreams as you fall into a deeper sleep than you’ve had in years.

Send me an ask or message if you want to be added to (or removed from) my tag list! <3 @outside-the-government @littlecarowrites @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse @stormsnevercometostay @southernbellestatues  @mad-girl-without-a-box @reading-in-moonlight

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Semi-Sweet III

Uhhhhh...This story still exists LOL. I’m sorry if anyone was reading this and hasn’t gotten an update since May! It’s highkey a rushed ending and I lost all motivation for it TT. Story page here for the previous parts and the baking terms! Also check out our masterlist that’s always updating! 

✿ Seventeen’s Mingyu  x Gender Neutral Reader ✿ Fluff  ✿ 3.8k words ✿ Not Requested ✿ Written by Chii ✿

Last time on Semi-Sweet

“I’m sorry.” She looked down and wiped her wet cheeks with the napkin you gave her earlier.

“It’s fine but I have an idea.” You said as you put the mason jars on the table.

“That is?” She looked more confused than upset with herself.

“No time to waste! We’re wasting time right now!” You readied a few boxes of butter out of the fridge to warm up into room temperature.

“Yes, boss!” You two laughed, you grabbed Kyla the knife block and put it on the table before slamming down a flat pan and started to cover it over with parchment paper.

         “Kyla could you use butter knife to cut off the sides and then the use the cake leveler for the top and bottom?” 

“Alright!” She said before getting into business. You stood on a stool to reach for the round cookie cutters. Looking for one that would fit the top of the mason jar wasn't as hard as you expected, they were all organized by diameter. 

“Two and a half inch cookie cutter. Two and a half, ” you mumbled to yourself until you found the silver circle and grabbed it. You set it down on the counter as you went into one of the industrial fridges for the French buttercream frosting you made earlier in the day and set it next to the butter you bought out. Kyla came over to you telling you that the edges were off and the cake was leveled.

“That's great! Take some butter and put it on the cake.” You handed her the butter. She made a face, not really understanding why.

“It's dry,” you walked over to the sink to wash your hands before poking at a corner of the cake on the table and showed her how it crumbled much easier than a regular cake, “the butter adds the moisture backs in if it's still warm.” Kyla nodded and went to add a layer of butter over the cake while you got the last remaining things you needed. That butter trick was one thing you learned from Mingyu while working here.

         “So what's the plan?” Jun said as he came in and turned over to Kyla slathering the cake with butter.

“We make layered cake jars,” you said to Jun.

“Uh, no offense but we could always make a new sheet of cake.” He eyed the cake again.

“We don't always have to think like that. There's other ways to solve a problem and my way doesn't involve chucking a whole cake into the trash.” You crossed your arms and unconsciously stood in a defense stance.

“Alright, alright. You’re getting all mouthy with me. What should I do?” He said. You smiled and walked him over to the counter.

“This is the French buttercream I made earlier, taste it.” You held out a small spoon for him. Jun looked at you suspiciously before taking the spoon and testing it.

“Tastes like buttercream,” he said, not thinking much about it. It was creamy and smooth, probably smoother than Mingyu’s if he had to argue.

“Right, it's boring. I was thinking about adding flavoring and garnishes to create different combinations of flavors,” you said as you bought out eight glass bowls and began to divide them.

“I planned on doing strawberry lemonade, peanut butter cup, salted caramel apple and, coconut and pineapple,” you said as you listed down the flavors on your fingers.

“Do we even have all that stuff?” Kyla said as she washed off the knife before drying it and putting it back.

“Yes, actually.” You clapped loudly and started ordering Jun around to mix flavors into the buttercream. You took over the cake and asked Kyla to cut up lemons and green apples, shred some chocolate shavings and to toast some coconut shavings in the oven.

         As time passed you three were layering vanilla cake, flavored buttercream, vanilla cake, flavored buttercream and a finishing of fresh whipped cream and the garnishes. Jun decided to color the frosting to make the dessert more appealing to the eye. Pink frosting with a wedge of lemon that was coated in sugar, chocolate garnishes on the already light brown peanut butter frosting, large salt chunks on the caramel lined frosting and thin apple roses that Kyla learned from Joshua and last but not least toasted coconut on the fruity buttercream. The sheet cake made only around 7 of each flavor combination but they looked amazing and you didn't know if your brain could take anymore.

“Bring them out Jun, I think my brain is fried,” you pleaded to Jun, he nodded and pat your back before taking the tray of layered cakes jars to the front. You immediately heard gasps and people adding them to their orders, RoA eventually called Eunwoo over to help her bring the cakes out onto the trays.

“What happened here?” Mingyu and Joshua stepped into the room and saw your tired figure hunched over on one of the counters. Kyla went to explain to them. You wanted to stop her but felt no strength to do so. Seungkwan came into the kitchen with three cups of coffee on a silver tray.

“Special delivery for Jun, Kyla and of course the mastermind!”

“Thanks.” You let your red splotched fingers hold onto the handle and drank the liquid.

         Fast forward a few weeks of sugar burns, powdered sugar all over your black chef pants and a lot of good times. You made by the first month of work and only wanted to seriously hurt Mingyu a few times, ‘what an achievement!’ you thought. You and RoA were hanging out by the front while it was almost closing time and no customers came in.

“Is he always like this?” You said quietly to her, afraid of Mingyu’s scary good hearing. You thought back to when Kyla would whisper something to you and he would hear from across the room.

“Moody and acting like two people? Yea, he always does. It’s hard to deal with his bad side but it doesn’t last for long. His ‘mean’ wall is easier to break than a sheet of sugar.” RoA laughed a bit.

         Mingyu had been noticeably nicer as time went by. His walls melted down like chocolate once it was around the middle of your second of work. He would still shoot you glares every now and then but sometimes he would offer you a taste of his new creation. You were beginning to think he didn’t know his own feelings towards you as his co-worker. You turned back to RoA, remembering your plans you made tonight with Jeonghan.

“Want to come over to celebrate the fact that Mingyu doesn’t have my head on a stick? I'm having some celebratory drinks and food,” you sand the last line in a high pitch in attempts of drawing out an acceptance to your offer.

“I’d love to but I have an essay due tomorrow, it hurts to get your masters degree in business.” RoA hugged you goodbye. She stopped wearing her scarf since it was a bit warmer had on only a wool cardigan over her white button down. Kyla and Eunwoo weren’t here since left before you two due to their shifts ending earlier. 

“Did I hear celebrations?” Mingyu threw his arms around your shoulders. You saw him in casual wear and figured he finished cleaning up the kitchen. RoA’s eyebrow raised at this action, her mind started to run with questions but didn’t want to say anything. 

“You,” you shrugged off his arm, “have selective hearing.” You smacked his cheek lightly. RoA flinched and was ready to plan your funeral but she didn’t need to.

“Do not,” he sneered at you and huffed. RoA rolled her eyes at his childish manner.

“I asked you for the whisk and you ignored me, my caramel almost burned!” You jabbed at his side as your brows furrowed. 

“That's because I don't like you and stop that,” he stuck out his tongue like a little kid and poked a finger in between your brows, “you’ll get wrinkles early.”

“I can’t tell if you two look like siblings or elementary school lovers,” she sighed at the two of you. The two of you wanted to refute but her bus came to the stop and she made a run for it. 

“Good night guys!” She screamed as she ran out, fishing inside her bag for her bus card. Mingyu got his weight off of you and stuck his hands into his pockets.

“So, can I come over for food or what?” He asked as hip bumped you. You heard the rattling of the cafe closing. Mingyu thanked Seungkwan and he wished you two to get home safe. He waved and walked across the street were there was little snow left to be melted away and the grass was green finally after months of cold and harsh treatment.

“When did we get so close?” You said as he turned back to you.

“When you did something right for once,” he said as he kicked the last bit of snow away from the sidewalk.

“Oh yea? What was that and what do you mean for once! I do my work right all the time you giant!” You walked up to him and stared at his face that was a good few inches away from the top of your head. He turned his attention to you and have you the serious face you hadn’t seen in a while.

“When you were able to man the kitchen alone.” A wave of emotions came through you. Sure you’ve gotten compliments from other chefs before but this one wasn't even a compliment. It felt genuine and something out of what you thought Mingyu would ever say to you. You turned away from him to raise your head to avoid your teary eyes from becoming something more like a waterfall. You nodded to him and told him that he was officially invited to come over. Mingyu was happy to be invited, he wanted to see you outside of the bakery. He wanted to see if it was possible for you to act the way you did around the others for him.

         You two made no small talk. Just a quiet walk to his car where he drove you two. His radio was on a current hits station but you didn't feel right singing along. Although, Mingyu did and belted out some off tone notes to break the ice. You laughed and rolled your eyes at him.

“You should have been an idol instead.”

“Are you saying baking isn't my forte?” You looked over at his profile that was focused on the road but made out the raised eyebrow on his face.

“I think baking is exactly what you were made for thank you very much.” Mingyu laughed and thanked you. You felt like you might have said a little too much for comfort.

          When you two finally got to your place, you waited for Mingyu to park while you went to call Jeonghan to come over. You stood outside the lobby, your breath coming up as puffs in the chilly night. The neighbors started to gossip around you, you never came home with a man unless it was Jeonghan. Mingyu finished parking and you waved over to him. He saw your figure in front of the bright lobby of your apartment building and lightly jogged over. The two of you went into the elevator and just your luck a few people had came back from work as well. The elevator wasn't cramped but you and Mingyu were a little too close for comfort. A few people had to push their way through to get off at their respective floors. Mingyu offered to switch places with you so you stood by the wall and he took the impact of people shoving each other. You and Mingyu easily got off at the 5th floor when there was only 4 people left in the elevator. You led him down the hall and found your dark door with golden numbers that read 117. You fished your keys out to unlock the door. Before you opened it, you turned to Mingyu.

“My apartment is kind of small, just letting you know now,” you said as you opened the door and kicked off your shoes before placing them on the rack next to the door. You felt the rough mat you kept in front of your door to avoid outside dirt from coming in. Mingyu did the same and stood aside as you closed the door. He took off his pea coat and hung it on the coat rack. He took into account of your two seater gray loveseat that rested on a fluffy white rug. A single throw pillow was lazily resting against the armrest and a blanket was thrown across the sofa. You kept your walls white and left the dark wood planks alone. He saw your neatly kept kitchen that offered almost no counter space and a gray Kitchenaid stand mixer to match the loveseat.

“Take a seat on the couch, I have someone else coming. I can offer you tea, coffee or if you want to get started on drinking early I have some wine coolers,” you said with your head halfway into your fridge.

“I'll take some water, that's alright.” Mingyu’s words caused you to grab a bottle of water and throw it at him. He caught it but not before

“What,” you said as you harshly popped the cap of your wine cooler harshly against your counter, “scared?”

“I'm not a big fan of how alcohol makes me after a few bottles,” he said. You chuckled before pulling out some take out menus and turning to choose one. The doorbell rang and you asked Mingyu to get it.

“Hey, I got food already and who is this?” You hear Jeonghan's voice as he stood by the door.

“I wish you would have told me you already got us something to eat,” you practically sigh out as you let him into the room. You formally introduced Jeonghan to Mingyu and they hit it off. They talked endlessly about anything and everything, mainly about food. Jeonghan had convinced him to try this fusion hungarian restaurant not far out of town. The night played out with Jeonghan doing most of the talking while you dug into the food and drinks. Music was being played so you bobbed your head to the beats and ate, making a mess.

Mingyu caught you out of the corner of his eye on your phone with a messy face, he laughed before he said something, “you look like a child.”

You rolled your eyes at his words before coming back at him, “you act like one.”

Jeonghan got up and opened your freezer for dramatic effect before saying, “do you want some ice for that?”

“I’ll take some, there's a bunch in the freezer anyway right? Likes overly iced drinks.” You stared at him while you wiped your mouth area.

“How do you know that of all people?” You said with your brows furrows, you don't ever recall having anything but hot coffee around him.

“I told him,” Jeonghan said as he sat down on your couch.

“He actually told me a lot about you.” Mingyu motioned over to Jeonghan who gave you a guilty smile. Mingyu sat next to Jeonghan.

“When did you two get so chummy?” You asked as wiped your mouth.

“He talks about food, I work with food. It’s perfect.” Jeonghan slinged an arm around Mingyu.

“Alright well perfect couple, it’s getting late.” Mingyu and Jeonghan threw protests at your sudden celebration ending.

          Come Monday night and you were ready to leave with the Eunwoo, Kyla didn't work on Mondays and RoA left earlier. Eunwoo filled her name in on the work schedule board for a 4pm shift. You didn’t have the pleasure of choosing your hours yet so you where on a fixed schedule of 5am-9pm on Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays.

“Y/N,” you turned to see Mingyu still in the kitchen and not changed out of his work clothes, “you’re staying behind.”

“Am I getting overtime?” You learned to be snarky with him as you got more comfortable. He would get flustered and not know how to answer back but he’s been getting better at it.

“No, but if you'll want to learn you'll stay.” You audibly sigh at him and walk back to the employee locker room.

“Get home safe Eunwoo.” She nodded and walked out of the bakery, the bells ringing sounded the empty bakery.

“Lets get started then,” you say to Mingyu, “what’s the dessert today?”

“Souffle.” You heard a tone of playfulness in his voice. Souffle was the one thing you were nervous about making. Mingyu saw the expression on your face and smiled widely, “it’ll be great!”

          Around half an hour later and you were finally able to start mixing the ingredients. Mingyu gave an overly long and unnecessary lecture on the importance of leveling ingredients and separating dry and wet ingredients.

          He looked at you maneuver your wrist and arms to fold the dry ingredients into the wet. He instantly recognized the technique you were using. This brought back memories he didn’t want to remember. Memories of his ex. Mingyu wasn't one to dwell on the past but easily got upset when he would notice the last bit of their existence in his apartment. He remembered how in love he was, how they always made him happy, how they trusted each other. You noticed Mingyu was dozing off. You quickly dropped the rubber spatula into the bowl and waved a hand in front of his face.

“You’re over flooding your cookies.” You said. He looked down at the cookie. His thinned out royal icing went over the border he made earlier.

“Where did you learn that?” Mingyu asked.

“My cousin taught me.” You smiled and thought back to your cousin, she had introduced you into the world of pastries and had taught you a few tips and tricks. Mingyu put two and two together and boom. You’re the cousin of the girl who broke his heart. Threw it to the ground like a sheet of melted sugar, leaving it shattered.

“I have to go,” Mingyu grabbed his coat and bolted out the door. Leaving you with souffle batter in a bowl and a preheated oven. You decided to continue working without him.

Your buttered the ramekins, poured in the batter and put them into the oven. You left the oven light on while you picked up your phone.

You called your cousin while you watched the oven, hoping that she was awake in her timezone. Luckily, she picked up.

“Hey, do you know a Mingyu?” You asked her. She responded with a quick yes but hung up right after. She texted you, apologizing.

C/N: I'm sorry ma petite (F)/mon petite (M).

Y/N: It's alright, tell me about Mingyu. Why is he so angry at you.

C/N: How do you even know him?

Y/N: I work for him now.

C/N: Small world, I used to work with him too. We dated, Y/N.

You started at your screen, you couldn't imagine your cousin dating someone like him.

Y/N: Did you break up with him or something?

C/N: He actually broke up with me. We both entered a contest together. I won and he got mad.

Y/N: The contest that sent you to France?

C/N: Yes! It's so beautiful here and I don't regret leaving to be honest. I found myself here and found a better love.

Y/N: So he’s just holding a really bad grudge?

C/N: Probably, I don't suggest you pry too much on it. He dwells on the past too much and I suggest you quit as soon as you can.

C/N: I have to go! I'll talk to you soon! Bien Nuit!

You sighed, wanting to ask more but you knew you shouldn't.

          The following days were awkward. You two made no eye contact and the absence of your usual bickering made the others worry. Kyla made effort to make you comfortable in the situation she didn't even know about. You thanked her for trying to help. On Friday night you and Mingyu were on lockup and cleaning duty, great. You scrubbed the area Joshua used today, cursing at him slightly for getting hardened sugar all over the counter. The kitchen was so quiet that you could hear the hum of the fridges. His voice cut the white noise.

“Listen, I'm sorry.” You turned around to see where he was, not realizing he was behind you. You tried to back up but your back hit the counter.

“Mingyu, I don't want to hear it. You’re just angry at my cousin. I get it.” You sighed before turning back around to continue scrubbing.

“Just angry? No, I'm infuriated but,” he turned you around to face him. The grip on your arm kept you in place.

“I'm apologizing to you.” His softened like a puppy that was being scolded and looked at you.

“She won a contest and you didn't. What's wrong are you that much of a sore loser?” You said in a very obvious joking tone in hopes of changing the atmosphere.

“What you don't know is that she stole my recipe.” You where shocked, she didn't tell you that.

“We made an agreement to share the prize and go to France together. I was going to propose to her god damn it!” His fist banged on the table.

You froze in place, your heart felt tight and you wanted to run away. Mingyu saw how scared you looked and get go of you.

“Go sit outside, let me explain myself once I calm down.” He turned to the sink and faced away from you.

When he didn't hear you move he choked out a quiet, “please.”

          You walked out of the kitchen, taking one look back at him before going onto the floor. You sat by one of the windows where the moonlight shined in. The only source of artificial light was coming from the kitchen. You took out your phone and read the messages again. You hesitated to text her when a cup came down in front of you. You put your phone on the table, screen down. Mingyu took a seat in front of you and signed for you to drink. The warm liquid spread around in your mouth, calming you down. You closed your eyes took in the flavor, opening them you saw that Mingyu was anything but calm. He looked distressed, a look you have never expected to see on him. He drank from the cup and put it down.

“What do you know? Actually, what did she tell you.” Mingyu said, there was little to no confidence in his voice. He obviously didn't want to talk about it.

“Mingyu, we don't have to talk about this. We can forget that night happened and go back to how we usually are as complete opposites that make the mood.” He smiled at your words.

“If only it was that easy to forget.” He sipped the drink as he looked out the window. The bustling streets now empty and the moonlight hitting his face.

YEET THATS IT. ITS A BAD ENDING BUT THIS IS THE LAST TIME IM GONNA TRY DOING A SERIES LOL IM SORRY Y’ALL

[montpahrnah]

hp fic recs

sirius/remus, part iii

part i / part ii

The Survivor, by apolesen (145k)

1985. Four years after the death of his friends, Remus decides to break out of the pattern of his post-war life and try living among Muggles. In a sleepy town in southern England and the bustling city of London, he tries to build a new life for himself, piece by piece. The more he sees of the Muggle world, the more Remus wonders if that structure is as stable as he would like to think it is.

“The Survivor” is set in Thatcherite Britain, in the wake of the Falklands War and the onset of the British AIDS epidemic. It explores themes of disease, stigma, war trauma and grief, reflecting both on the historical context of the 1980s and Rowling’s characterisation of Remus Lupin.

Time, As a Symptom, by tigrrmilk (12k)

“Ah,” Remus had said, as dry as he could manage. “An aristocratic youth on his grand tour.”

Sirius knocked his arm. “Hey,” he said. “Grander than most, at least. You’ve got to give me that.”

Seven of them go to space. One stays there.

Light in August, by orestesfasting (21k)

Summer, 1977. With the full moon approaching, Sirius heads up to the Lupins’ countryside cottage to make himself useful. Or to make a complete and utter arse out of himself, because really, that’s all he can seem to do around Remus these days.

EXILE/RETURN, by zambla (5k)

Sirius makes a road trip down to the Gower peninsula. Non-magic AU. 1980s-1990s.

Orbital, by tevere, (3k)

The thing about orbiting is, see, that it’s not flying at all – it’s falling. It’s just that you’re going fast enough to match the curvature of the Earth: you’re falling round and round, and never getting any closer.

Anastasia & Spinning Jenny, by librae (8k)

Grimmauld Place is eating Sirius alive.

A Bright Particular Star, by torch (24k)

Remus and Sirius celebrate their last Christmas at Hogwarts.

A Late Frost, by kest (1k)

Remus and Sirius in the first war.

the summer you let your hair grow out, by ladymemebeth (20k)

an AU story in which sirius decides to go to remus’ house when he runs away, rather than james’. remus finds this situation to be trying in more ways than one. includes gratuitous references to twentieth-century cinema and music.

A Short Discourse on Cruelty, by imochan (1k)

So, friendship - it hurts, sometimes. Companion to A Short Discourse on Kindness.

A Short Discourse on Kindness, by imochan (1k)

Companion to A Short Discourse on Cruelty. Three verses.

The Rosary, by fluorescentgrey (31k)

On a Thursday in April 1943 Remus took the train from London to Birmingham, where a stately black car was waiting at the station to take him a short drive southwest to Hagley. In a wood on the estate of the Viscount Cobham of Hagley Hall four local boys hunting quail had found a woman’s skeleton in a wych elm tree.

These Young Lions, by enjambament (26k)

On Hallowe’en night, 1981, Sirius runs for his freedom and ends up as a dog on the doorstep of No. 11 Privet Drive. But that’s only the beginning. What comes next is a desperate hunt for the evidence to give Sirius his life back, and give Harry a home.

The Weather Inside, by earlybloomingparenthesis (43k)

Sirius rides a flying motorbike, and snogs strangers in pubs, and strikes moody poses Remus finds irritatingly attractive. But for Remus, who drinks milky tea and wears flannel pyjamas, there’s a chasm cracked right down the fault line between wanting and doing.

How he wants, though. How he wants.

Longsdune, by imochan (3k)

He supposes that this is what is expected of him, to sit here and listen to wetness sinking into the earth and remember how it felt when it was sunny, and there were four of them, and Sirius Black looked at him like he was a piece of the universe he wanted to understand so badly that he was willing to take Remus apart completely and then put him back together.

Tesserae (the Missing Pieces Remix), by glass_icarus (3k)

Post-PoA. Sirius is picking up the pieces, but putting them back together requires help.

When We Were Gone Astray, by shaggydogstail (4k)

A brief history of Christmastime with Sirius bringing up Harry.

it is our crooked aim, by misandrywitch (4k)

He’s been gone for three days, and he didn’t tell Sirius where he was going or how long he’d be gone. He has no idea where Sirius is, or when he’ll be back. That’s how it’s been for a while now. He makes himself tea and runs a bath and sits in the tub until the water is grey and chilly with sloughed-off dirt. Remus is twenty-one. He feels eighty.

This World Lies At The Bottom Of A Lake, by berhanes (7k)

Briefly he’d considered going to visit Remus, but Sirius has too many stacked up feelings about him to add any more, and he doesn’t trust himself not to ruin their carefully patched situation in the wake of the incident – it’s only been a year, after all, and there’s no better way to shatter a barely recovered friendship than by doing something stupid like throwing out a declaration of love in the middle of explaining the myriad ways in which your family is deranged and terrible. So instead Sirius had hailed the Knight Bus and requested Bowness-on-Windermere.

Postscript, by yeats (1k)

“All that anger — I don’t like how it feels anymore, having it inside me.”

What forgiveness might look like.

One That You Can Keep, by thistlerose (1k)

“Where all my journies end / If you can make a promise / if it’s one that you can keep / I vow to come for you…”

bright ambassadors, by librae (1k)

(PWP, basically)

The Years to Come, by toyhto (3k)

Remus is watching him closely and trying to weight their love, trying to decide if it’s real enough or not, and he knows he would be doing the same if he didn’t already know. It’s real. It always was. They were complete idiots.

Escape for Another Day, by veeagainst (2k)

A life and death experience brings Sirius and Remus together.

four thousand two hundred and sixty, by Kel (2k)

I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn’t a happy thought, so the dementors couldn’t suck it out of me.

– Sirius Black, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Atlantic Specimen, by ourmutualfriend (3k)

Opiate dream.

A Peripheral Vision, by carmine_ink (2k)

Set in Cambridge at the end of the century, Remus and Sirius struggle to exist in a society that refuses to accept them.

Hold On to Whatever You Find, by fallovermelikestars (10k)

“…he hadn’t planned to jump Sirius’ bones almost as soon as he walked through the door, had actually planned to fix him a square meal and then set about avoiding him for a few days – or forever – but he’d been marinating in whiskey for over an hour and Sirius had fucking smiled at him as he pushed the door closed behind him and that smile, it’s always been Remus’s undoing.”

Then I Would Come and Find You, by RuinsPlume (2k)

This is what saves them every time.

between towers, by tigrrmilk (8k)

Through the doorway at the end of the entrance hall, he could see a wide portion of the small quad ahead. Green and lush. It was early October, and the sun was shining, thank the lord. Or at least thank Merlin. It was Michaelmas. And Remus was taking up a place at Oxford to read English.

Argentum, by happiestwhen (1k)

Memories are only as permanent as you allow them to be.

Homeless Near a Thousand Homes, by lorax (3k)

“He went there because he wanted to remember, and he stayed because he had no other place to be.”

Our lives will run like / Sparks through the stubble, by zambla (13k)

1984. Remus J Lupin, post first wizarding war, is in Berlin. His father has just died. He goes back to his childhood homes, the places he passed through, and realizes that his memory is a map that is folded on itself.

Told in interwoven present and past times, concerning his relationship to his parents, himself, and the traitor, Sirius Black.

My homage to the film Blue (1993) by the great English filmmaker Derek Jarman.

Diamonds and Rust, by toyhto (6k)

“My heart would get broken,” he says roughly, “that’s why.“

Sirius draws his hand back. “I wonder how that feels.”

“I don’t.”

The Season of Love and Death, by mustntgetmy (2k)

A little love letter to autumn, Remus/Sirius style. From their first kisses at Hogwarts beneath the Forbidden Forest foliage, to sharing cups of cocoa in a London park near the end of the first war.

The Man Who Counts Waves, by Underlucius (1k)

If he stops counting he’ll remember who lives on the other side of that azure flood, and then he would walk into the sea and never return. So he counts the waves.

The Impossible Season, by coyotesuspect (21k)

Six months after falling through the Veil, Sirius comes back. As a seventeen-year-old.

Remus takes him in.

A Candle Put Out, by sopdetly (2k)

Now they hadn’t had sex in months, and Sirius knew he pulled away from Remus in his sleep, when they managed to sleep in bed together.

Lay Down, by taffetablue (1k)

After, they Apparate home, saturated with rain and blood, and the oily slide of dark magic skidding along Remus’s skin like unfamiliar hands.

Ghost of Winter, by earlybloomingparenthesis (3k)

Christmas is coming and the bite of winter is in the air, and way up north in the Highlands the mountains are big and bleak enough to hide even Azkaban’s most wanted from prying eyes. All Remus can imagine is being snowbound alone with Sirius. Unfortunately, there’s a ghost who has other plans.

Wandering, Gets You Down, by hiddendaze (5k)

AU premise: Remus is in Ravenclaw and doesn’t really know Peter, James and Sirius. Consequently, there is no Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.

a country mile, by sea_schtick (1k)

The summer after Harry’s third year, and Sirius refuses to be alone.

To Fill A Gap, by berhanes (8k)

Sirius’ face is caught in a rectangle of late afternoon sun and Remus wants suddenly to reach across the three feet and fourteen years between them and touch him where the light hits. He lets himself imagine that he could, that in a moment he’ll just lean forward and trace the curve between Sirius’ neck and his jaw with his fingertips without it feeling like penitence. A different version of himself would’ve already done it. But then, a different version of himself wouldn’t be here in the first place.

Any Other Night, by mustntgetmy (6k)

In 1977, Remus and Sirius set about trying to kill the moon, and years later, in Azkaban, Sirius reflects on this and on his damaged relationship with Remus.

Of Monsters, by llassah (8k)

Sirius always expected to go into the Black family business. Said family business just happens to involve kneecappings, murder, and the most powerful criminals in London. When Sirius decides to leave home at nineteen with a briefcase full of money and a few other essentials, he has no idea that he will end up sharing a dosshouse with a lunatic in a tweed jacket with the reading habits of an Oxford don and staggering intermittent anger issues. Sad thing is, it’s probably the safest place for him right now. Until it isn’t.

stir the flame anew, by blanketed_in_stars (5k)

It’s a light tawny who sits patiently while he reads. Moony—send something back if it’s a bad time. Otherwise I’ll be there at noon. Cheers, Padfoot. There’s nothing more, as if it were the last note in a conversation they’d already been having, but Remus can’t recall anything of the sort. He’d remember if they’d talked about this. He’d remember, he thinks, watching the owl drink the water which he absentmindedly offers her, if they’d talked at all.

Two winters after the war, Remus receives an owl, and, shortly thereafter, an unexpected houseguest.

Souvenir, by sopdetly (3k)

Remus returns from another mission; Sirius has missed him.

Concomitant, by peccadilloes (1k)

Remus comes home and into the kitchen that evening with a soft blue book, and he sets it on the table.

“Some hipster hippie witch in Venice gave it to me,” he says. “Makes them.”

Sirius picks up the book and in his hands it changes, grows large and slim and harder bound. He rubs his thumb over its waxed thread, and its cover pools with longing.

a lie low in Los Angeles, oneiromancy

We’ll Both Forget the Breeze, by happiestwhen (1k)

In winter, time seems to trickle down with the melting snow.

[killervibe]

The Snow Project

Notes: So I’m late for Day 3- Time Travelling, but the good news is that this means you’re getting two fics from me today!!! Here’s yesterday’s theme! I really liked this idea...Enjoy! Also, I’m having WAY too much fun with the abundance of fic. I wish EVERY week was Killervibe week!!! 

@killervibedaily

The Snow Project 

Cisco was in the middle of sketching a prototype for the Quantum Electric Multiplier Gun when Barry sped into the Cortex. 

“Hey,” Barry said, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Cisco looked at his garbage drawing and gladly pushed it away. “Yeah, What’s up?”

“Joe just told me about a really puzzling meta case at CCPD.”

Cisco looked intrigued. “Why is it so puzzling?”

Barry’s face lit up. “So this pedestrian, Nolan Fisher, about 50 years old, gets into a car accident, right? He was walking across the street with his eyes glued to his phone so he didn’t realize he was walking into ongoing traffic.”

“Okay…”

“Get this,” Barry said, getting all excited. “He loses an arm!”

Cisco’s mouth dropped in horror, “That’s terrible!”

“No, it isn’t!” Barry objected, “Because he gets in the ambulance and the paramedics realize they can just,” Barry made a funny gesture with his hands, “Pop!  Attach his arm back where it was just like that! No blood no nothing! Just like that he gained complete motion of his arm!”

“What?” Cisco screeched. “You mean like a mannequin?” Cisco paused. “Mr. Mannequin, that’s a good one.”

“Uh huh,” Barry nodded, “And it gets crazier. This guy claims he had this from birth. And not just that, his whole family can do it. His mother, father, maternal cousin…”

Cisco frowned, “But how is that possible? Metas only started appearing due to the particle accelerator or Devoe’s bus metas.”

“And the similarity in both were the dark matter,” Barry agreed. “But this guy’s medical tests show none.”

“There are more metas out there,” Cisco said. It’s not a question. It would’ve been, two years ago, but not anymore. Not since Cisco vibed with Caitlin her repressed memory where she had turned into Killer Frost as a kid. Caitlin asked him not to tell anyone, so he hadn’t. He kept quiet, but now he wondered if maybe he should be speaking up.

Barry threw his hands in the air, “Maybe there were other types of metas this whole time!” He looked around the room, realizing it was quieter than usual. Ralph was away in Wisconsin but... “Wait, where’s Caitlin?”

Cisco sighed, “She’s sick. She caught a cold so she’s staying home. Ha! That’s ironic.”

“Okay,” Barry said slowly, and you could tell he was calculating something in his mind. “Okay, that’s good actually.”

Cisco scrunched up his face in confusion. “You want Caitlin to be sick? That’s not being a good friend…”

“No, there’s a reason.”

Barry sat down next to Cisco and explained to him that apparently there was a doctor who researched into the possibility of superpowered humans about seventeen years ago with several examples. It was pretty much ignored by academia and dismissed as a joke paper, buried away. It was obvious however, based off descriptions of abilities, that one of them was a relative of Nolan Fisher. The problem? The contact information on the file was an old phone number and home address for the doctor, which was great. Except for the fact the research was published posthumously after the doctor’s long battle with multiple sclerosis.

“Who was the doctor?” Cisco asked.

Barry looked down at the brown folder. He opened it, then silently slid the papers across the table to Cisco.

Mr. Ethan Snow.

Cisco’s eyes widened. “Caitlin’s dad?”

“Yeah. Does Caitlin ever talk about him?”

“No,” Cisco admitted, “I know his death hit her hard, it inspired her to become a doctor, but it was also the driving force that put a wedge in the relationship Caitlin had with her mom.”

Barry worried his bottom lip into his mouth, giving Cisco a look.

Cisco knew where this was going.

“You want to go back in time and meet him, don’t you?”

Barry at least had the audacity to look sheepish. “Before you freak out, I asked Jay Garrick. If we meet him several months before he dies, Jay said us being there shouldn’t have much impact if we’re careful.”

Cisco mulled it over. He was still stunned. Caitlin’s dad. That was really interesting. It seemed too coincidental, for this to not have anything to do with Killer Frost. The more he thought about it, the more bothered he got. If Caitlin’s father knew about her, he should’ve told her. Maybe it could’ve helped, if Caitlin was prepared…

“I’m in,” Cisco said. “But we’re not telling Cait.”

Barry nodded, “I know you don’t want to keep secrets from her, but I think that’s the wisest choice.”

Cisco started to get excited. He heard all of Barry’s adventures from time travelling and after the Flashpoint fiasco. Unless he quit Team Flash and joined the Legends, he always thought it was something he’d never get to experience.

Cisco took a deep breath. “When do we leave?”

~.~

It’s 2004, and the first thing Cisco does is pull a Diggle and puke into a public garbage can.

“I’m sorry man,” Barry said apologetically as Cisco gagged.

It took a minute for Cisco’s stomach to settle. “I’m usually good with your speed travels but we were going really fast.”  

Barry found a map somehow and located Caitlin’s old home address. They were using the face morphing tech made for H.R. so to not alter anything should they run into Caitlin.

Hopefully they won’t. It’s the middle of the day and she should be in middle school.

Cisco flexed his fingers and opened a breach. They ended up right in front of Caitlin’s house.

To use the word house was being modest. It was a mansion.

They both took a minute to soak it in.

 Cisco whistled softly, “Damn, I knew Caitlin’s family had money but this house is…”

“Bitchin?” Barry joked, nudging him forward, “Come on, let’s go.”

They ring the doorbell and a middle aged nurse opens the door. Barry told her they’re visitors for Dr. Snow and the nurse beamed delightedly.

“It’s been a long time since he’s gotten any visitors from young people like you. Sickness scares people away, you know. It’s a shame, really. How about I go for my lunch and leave you with him for an hour? He’s having a good day. If you need anything, you can ask Meyrielle, the cleaning lady. She’s in the basement. Mr. Snow is in the living room.”

She stopped after she grabbed her purse.

“Who did you say you were, again?”

“We used to work with him when we were residents,” Cisco made up on the spot.

“Oh, that’s nice!” The nurse gave them another sunny smile and left.

Barry and Cisco shared a look. That was ridiculously easy.

They walked down the luxurious hallways with mahogany wooden floors and walls lined with what looked like expensive original paintings.

“Caitlin’s mom has an interesting taste of interior design,” Cisco mumbled as they made their way to the living room.

Barry knocked on the side of the door and peered in.

There was Dr. Snow, the Mister Dr. Snow, on the couch watching television.

Cisco marvelled. Caitlin looked a lot like him. He was very thin in places people only were when they were chronically sick, and he hunched over himself in an awkward angle. But he still had a full head thick of Caitlin’s brown hair. They had the same complexion, and a very similar face shape as well. A wheelchair was next to him and there were many pills in a pouch on the adjacent coffee table. Cisco was rather surprised, he was bracing for him to appear a lot worse.

“Hello, Dr. Snow? I’m Barry Allen and this is Cisco Ramon. We came to ask you some questions about something sensitive regarding your research and we were wondering if you had the moment to talk with us about it.”

Dr. Snow perked up immediately. “Oh, I’d love to discuss medicine with you. I miss practicing.”

Barry glanced at Cisco who nodded. They agreed to just go ahead and tell him everything. The man only had two months left to live and it was unlikely he would deny their story if Barry and Cisco could show him their powers to prove it.

“Bear with us,” Cisco warned, “This is going to sound crazy.”

Barry retold the entire tale. The time travelling, him being struck by lightning due to the particle accelerator explosion, his job at CCPD, including the particle accelerator explosion and being best friends with Caitlin. Finally, Barry asked about the Fisher case and what Dr. Snow thought about genetically hereditary powers.

Dr. Snow listened carefully throughout and explained his theory of mutant genes being a genetic possibility for having powers from birth.

“You mean like the X-Men?”

Dr. Snow nodded. “Maybe Stan Lee’s comics aren’t so fantastical after all. I believe although rare, there might have been...Metahumans as you say...Since the beginning of time.”

Barry was leaning forward absorbing every word that came out of Dr. Snow’s mouth, reminding Cisco a lot of how he used to act around evil Wells.

“How on Earth did you get so involved with this?” Barry wondered outloud.

Something twisted in Cisco’s gut. No matter how awesome Caitlin’s dad seemed, he was still hiding this from his daughter. How could he say all of this to two people he just met but not Caitlin, who should know?

“Because of Caitlin!” Cisco blurted out, and Barry turned to Cisco, wide-eyed.

Dr. Snow was so shocked he began to  cough and he shouted out in pain.

“I know that you know about Caitlin’s secret,” Cisco confided. “I understand you want to protect your daughter, but keeping her in the dark about this isn’t a good idea—”

“That’s enough, Cisco,” Barry cut him off, immediately apologizing to Dr. Snow, and tending to his side.

“I’m fine boys,” Dr. Snow waved off, but Barry asked Cisco to get him some water from the kitchen anyways.

“Please, let’s keep this secret between us,” he requested, his voice a little horse, as Cisco left the room.

Cisco was glad for the excuse to leave. Being here felt wrong. He was sorry he came. Cisco had to do something. He could feel it in his bones, there’s no way that he’s leaving 2004 without altering the timeline in some way. He realized these were a dying man’s last wishes to respect, but it also went completely against everything he stood for when it came to Caitlin: Doing what was best for her.

Cisco had his hand on the fridge handle when footsteps went thundering down the stairs.

Cisco froze.

A young girl shy of fifteen made her way through the house. She wore blue jean shorts and a yellow spaghetti tank. Her hair was in a ponytail and she looked downright frazzled.

It was Caitlin. Oh god. It was fourteen year old Caitlin. Cisco couldn’t breathe.

“Daddy?” She called, rushing past Cisco so fast she didn’t even notice a stranger was in her kitchen.

“Daddy are you okay, what’s the matter?”

Cisco could hear Dr. Snow reassuring her from the living room that he was alright but it was clear she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

It went quiet for a while, undoubtedly her father and Barry diverting questions about who Barry was and what he was doing.

“I’m getting you water,” she informed, and marched into the kitchen.

Cisco knew he was wearing a different face but he still felt utterly exposed.

“Why are there two strangers in my house?” Young Caitlin snapped.

“I’m also visiting,” Cisco told her. She opened a cupboard for a glass. Cisco opened the fridge and handed her a water bottle, trying not to stare at her like a creep.

He glanced at the time on their fancy electrical stove. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

Caitlin’s face was very matter of fact as she poured the water from the bottle into the glass. She added some vitamin tablets and said, “I can stay home sometimes when Dad is having a good day. We don’t know how many of those he’ll have left.”

“You don’t seem to be the type to miss school,” he couldn’t help but say. Caitlin, his Caitlin, who managed two doctorates and a PhD in what…? Five years? She must’ve skipped some grades in high school. Cisco skipped two. That rigorous work ethic made even taking an early dismissal for a dentist appointment in eighth grade sound impossible.

Caitlin shrugged, “I don’t mind not going as long as I get the homework.”

Ah yes, there she is.

Caitlin continued, “Besides, there’s this girl, Lexi, she torments me at school for who knows why. Why would I want to spend my days there when I can be with him, right?”

No wonder Caitlin didn’t talk much about her life before college. This all just seemed so sad.

Cisco rested his chin on the palm of his hand and leaned his elbow against the marble counter, fascinated by this version of his best friend.

“You seem like a smart girl. What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Caitlin lit up, “A zoologist!”

Cisco snorted. The glare Caitlin shot him was a fetus compared to some of the ones he receives at Star Labs now.

“What about a doctor?” Cisco asked.

“Eh,” She sounded disinterested, “we’ve got enough Dr. Snows around here. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to give this to Dad.”

Cisco watched Caitlin go.

Barry walked into the kitchen as Caitlin walked out. He swiveled around her awkwardly in the doorway looking down at her and then up at Cisco repeatedly mouthing out Cait! and So Freaky! accompanied with many weirded out facial expressions.

“I got what I needed,” Barry said out loud, pulling out a high stool from the kitchen island to sit on.

“That’s great,” Cisco told him, sounding a little flat.

“I’m really confused,” Barry admitted,  “How does Dr. Snow know anything about KF?”

Cisco took a deep breath. “I vibed it with her the day we defeated DeVoe. It turns out...Caitlin’s first encounter with KF in fact happened four years ago, as in 2000. Not 2017,” he whispered. “She’s been repressing the memory.”

Barry’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, “What the hell?”

“He knows Barry, he knew this entire time and just let her go on by herself.” Cisco was so anguished. Barry patted his shoulder sympathetically.

“It sounds like he’s trying to do the right thing. He really doesn’t want her to be burdened with this fear. Can’t you imagine how scary that would be for a teenager?”

Cisco knew to some extent that Barry was right. Still, it didn’t sit well with him. It would be so easy to fix it all right there and then. If Killer Frost is triggered psychologically, wouldn’t being mentally prepared for her arrival actually work to keep her at bay?

“Can’t we do something?”

Barry sighed. He got up quickly, looked left and right and then flashed Cisco out the house.

Barry started scolding Cisco in front of the Snow’s peonies.

“You know the answer to that already. We should be going. Now.”

“Please, Barry,” Cisco pleaded, “She’s had so much pain in her life. What if we could change that?”

“You’re not getting it,” Barry cried, “It’s because of me time travelling to try and save my mom that I screwed up the timeline! If it wasn’t for my interference, Caitlin never would’ve been Killer Frost to begin with!”

“And if we don’t do something now, she’ll run away terrified of Killer Frost in sixteen years because we kept our mouths shut instead of helping our best friend!”

“Anything dealing with Killer Frost is too risky!”

“Maybe it’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Cisco replied stubbornly.

Barry crossed his arms across his chest.

“Like Dante?”

The hurt on Cisco’s face was so evident Barry could’ve slapped him and it wouldn’t have looked any different.

“I’m sorry,” Barry apologized genuinely.

Cisco sat down in the grass, stunned into silence.

“That’s what happens when you tamper with fixed events,” Barry explained softly, ridding the patronizing tone from his voice this time.

“I know how much you care about Caitlin,” he continued, “I should’ve known this would be incredibly hard for you to stand back and watch. I shouldn’t have asked you to come with me.”

“I wanted to see a slice of Caitlin’s life when I assumed would’ve been a happier time. But when I spoke to her...She’s had it so hard, man. Since the beginning. All I can think about when I’m in this house is how she’s going to lose her father and then she’s going to fall out with her mom and then she’s going to lose Ronnie and her career. Her entire life has been like this.”

Barry kicked some fancy fertilized dirt. “I know.”

“I just wish we could do something.”

“I know,”  Barry said again.

Cisco squinted at the 2004 sky. “Hey,” he said, an idea forming in the back of his mind as a Ferrari blasting Usher’s Yeah!  drove by. “Maybe we can.”

~.~

They went back inside. They waited for Caitlin to go to the bathroom for Cisco apologized and promised Dr. Snow he’d keep the secret for Caitlin to find out—-If she ever does—In 2018 and not 2004. They also showed him some pictures of Team Flash and their Caitlin from their phones and reassured him that, all in all, Caitlin was happy and successful. He should be proud.

Dr. Snow brushed away tears, eternally grateful.

He really was a nice man. Cisco had to turn away for a moment to collect his emotions. If only Caitlin could have one more moment with him. Cisco shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He couldn’t even tell her about it.

They waved goodbye to Caitlin as she returned with blankets and snacks to cuddle  up with her father and watch a VHS.

“Hey,” Cisco said to Caitlin, who looked up from the television to him.

“Don’t give up, okay? Promise?”

Young Caitlin smiled a little, intrigued if not slightly confused.

“Promise the young man,” Dr. Snow nudged at his daughter, teasing her.

“...I Promise?”

Cisco hid his smile. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

They left the house as the nurse came back from her lunch. “Aww, leaving already?” She pouted.

“Yeah, we’re pressed for time,” Barry told her, and they quickened their paces down the Snows cobblestone walkway.

“Come again!” The nurse called cheerfully.

~.~

Central East Middle School was just beginning their after school cheerleading practice of the day when Cisco breached right in front of Lexi Laroche and her stupid clique gossiping under the bleachers.

The girls all screamed.

“Hi!” Cisco enthused, “Which one of you little snakes is Lexi Laroche?”

The leader of the group stood up on wobbly legs. “Me.”

“I’m a superhero from the future,” Cisco said, “And I got informed that you bully Caitlin Snow.”

Lexi Laroche turned white. “I wouldn’t call it bullying…” She stammered. How quaint, Cisco thought, she had a french accent to accompany the French last name.

Cisco threw a vibe blast at a soccer ball. All of the air exploded out of the ball. The girls jumped, then huddled together. “Yeah,” Cisco said sarcastically, “And I wouldn’t call that exploding a soccer ball with my bare hands.”

Lexi gulped.

“This is what’s going to happen. You’re going to read this pamphlet about the dangers of bullying. It has a whole list of ugly things nobody wants to be called or have done to, but guess what? You did those. And you said that. There are far better things to do with your life. Like, say, expand your wardrobe beyond hot pink juicy couture sweatpants and bubblegum pink tube tops.”

Cisco pulled out the bullying pamphlet from his Vibe Jacket and gave it to her.

“Next, you’re going to stay away from Caitlin. I don’t want to see you behaving despicably like that to Caitlin or any other girl. Is that clear?”

Lexi Laroche nodded her head so fast she looked like a bobble head.

Cisco put his hands on his hips, satisfied. He seemed to have caught their attention well enough. He didn’t want to traumatize them.

“Good.” He opened a breach. “Bye.”

~.~

Barry brought them back to 2018.

As soon as Barry was certain Cisco wasn’t going to get dizzy and faint, he went straight to CCPD with his new information.

On the other hand, Cisco breached to a certain sick friend’s apartment.

Cisco walked down the hall towards Caitlin’s room. The lights were shut off and she was fast asleep.

He turned on her bedside table lamp and knelt on the floor next to her sleeping form. He whispered for her to wake up, placing a hand on her forehead.

No fever, that’s good.

She opened an eye and mumbled a groggy hello at Cisco. He waited for her to get her bearings and sit up in her bed. Cisco would’ve normally sat on her bed if she was injured or upset in the past, but she’s sick and he really doesn’t want her germs so he pulled up a chair instead.

“How are you feeling?”

Caitlin swallowed purposely and blinked a few more times, obviously attempting to come up with an adequate self-evaluation. “Better.”

“Good to hear,” Cisco threw a paper bag onto her lap.

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

Cisco bounced in his seat, “Just open it!”

Caitlin emptied the bag and out fell a box of cookies.

Caitlin gaped, “Choco-Hearties!? I thought they don’t make these anymore! Cisco!!” She slapped at his arm excitedly, “These were my favorite cookies growing up. How did you find them?”

Caitlin busied herself with opening the flaps and stuffed two in her mouth right away.

“I don’t even care that this hurts my throat,” she mumbled happily around her mouthful.

Cisco laughed, very much proud of his accomplishment. Also very glad that Caitlin was still too tired to notice Cisco blacked out the expiry date.

“Hey,” Cisco said casually, three Brooklyn-Nine-Nine episodes later. Caitlin was getting drowsy and her cookie box was three-thirds eaten. Cisco tried one and he too now understood why she wrote a letter of complaint to the company in ninth grade. Good thing he bought two more.

Caitlin hummed in response.

“I ran into one of my childhood bullies today, it reminded me of what you said about that girl who put gum in your hair, what was her name? Alexis?”

Caitlin frowned. “Lexi? She picked on me for maybe three months in eighth and then stopped bothering me. I heard she moved to France...Cisco I’m sorry I’m really tired.” 

Cisco ran his hand through her hair and tried to keep the silly grin out of his voice. “That’s alright. You sleep. I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

FIN.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Countless Roads - Chapter 22

Fic: Countless Roads - Chapter 22 - Ao3

Fandom: Flash, Legends Pairing: Gen, Mick Rory/Leonard Snart, others

Summary: Due to a family curse (which some call a gift), Leonard Snart has more life than he knows what to do with – and that gives him the ability to see, speak to, and even share with the various ghosts that are always surrounding him.

Sure, said curse also means he’s going to die sooner rather than later, just like his mother, but in the meantime Len has no intention of letting superheroes, time travelers, a surprisingly charming pyromaniac, and a lot of ghosts get in the way of him having a nice, successful career as a professional thief.

———————————————————————————

The ghosts follow them as they drive to the coordinates Cisco sends Len. It's creepy even to Len, and Len actually likes being surrounded by ghosts most of the time.

Maybe it's how weirdly happy they are to see him.

"Did I draw every friendly in town or something?" Len muses as he watches the scenery go by. Mick's driving, of course. "What happened to the unquiet ones in this universe, anyway?"

"Oh, they're out there, they're just drowned out in the crowd and know that if they start shit, they’ll get ripped apart," Mick says. He sounds pleased by the idea. He would be. "And it ain't all the ghosts in town."

"No?" Len asks, turning to look at Mick. "Certainly seems like it."

Mick shakes his head. "You're thinking too small. Think more like - state. Or bigger."

"That's impossible," Len objects. "I can’t manage that many ghosts."

"Right. And how would you know that?" Mick asks skeptically.

Len frowns at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Boss – you've told me about your curse and all that, right?"

"Yeah."

"Which you learned about from your mom before the unquiet dead got to her, right?"

"Yeah."

"She died in her early thirties, Lenny," Mick says, not without sympathy. "You've hit early forties – ten years older than she ever got. I think we're in uncharted territory."

"Dying in your thirties is unusually early for my family," Len protests, but he knows Mick has a point. "Mid-forties, early fifties, that's the norm, she said."

"Yeah," Mick says, "but who knows what your family members were capable of before they kicked the bucket? Certainly not you. The unquiet dead problem has been less of a problem since even before I organized the friendlies into a guard line, not more of one. You're not running out of life yet, even though you're getting closer and closer to your cut-off."

"Maybe it's an abrupt decline?" Len suggests, but he doesn't need Mick's increasingly more skeptical look to realize how dumb that sounds. He shrugs. "Dunno what to tell you, Mick. I got you; maybe I'm just lucky."

"Maybe it's time we try to find another one like you. Ask some questions. Get some answers."

"It ain’t like I haven't tried! It's just – wait. Are those stairs?"

Mick slows the jeep, which luckily enough is all-terrain since they've been going through forest for the last bit, to a stop. "Yeah," he says, staring ahead of them. "They definitely are. Stairs made of ice."

"Right," Len says, shaking his head even as he climbs out of the car and starts making his way towards the stairs on foot. Metahumans. It's like not a single one of them knows the meaning of the term 'subtlety' - even on another earth. At least his boots have decent treads. "Killer Frost, I assume."

"Yeah, I'm going first," Mick says, catching up quickly. "In case the stairs break."

"If they break," Len says drolly, "the ghosts will catch me."

"We definitely will," someone chimes in.

"Definitely!" another adds.

Len twitches. He did not need the reminder of their eavesdropping entourage; he's been trying to ignore them.

But up the stairs they go. The stairs are starting to crack a bit, but Len's cold gun easily fixes them up. Such a useful weapon; he does so love it.

And then they're in.

"It's him!" other-Ronnie hisses, his arms wrapped protectively around a very pale – inhumanly pale – looking Caitlin, who's also apparently opted for the look of a very different type of professional. Since there's a normal looking Caitlin a few feet away, Len's going to assume the would-be hooker is Killer Frost.

It occurs to him that he's being rude, given that Lisa also has a fondness for dressing in a similarly revealing way and he'd punch anyone who made any implications about her, but he's had too many fights with Lisa on the subject to think of it as anything other than hooker clothing. Not least of all because they'd gone out to a bar once and Lisa had in fact matched outfits with one of the hookers there...

Well, he just wouldn't say anything about it.

"Nice to see you again, Ronnie," Len says instead, opting to smirk at them both. "Caitlins, plural."

"You didn't have to come," Caitlin says peevishly. "It wasn't a trap, you know."

"Well. Actually, it kinda was," Killer Frost says, tone mostly coming off as seductive but also just the slightest bit apologetic. "But after Ronnie showed up in a panic, I decided to help you for real."

"...oh."

"Where's Wally?" Mick asks.

"He's in the back – we're trying to get Jesse out from the cage," Caitlin says. "We found Jesse, by the way! Of course, we found her in a cage..."

"I'll go check on 'em," Mick says.

"You need to get the girl you were looking for and go back to your universe," Killer Frost says, watching Mick go purposefully towards the back of the cave-cum-hideout. "Fast."

"No can do," Len says, disliking the condescending way she was addressing him. "We've got a time-limited ride. What's the ambush?"

"What?"

"I can only assume you're concerned all of a sudden because Zoom has a plan to kill not just us, but also probably you two," Len drawls. "Possibly large swaths of the world. Who knows where the limits of your conscience are?"

Killer Frost's eyes glow bright blue and she exhales frost. "Listen here, you little -"

"He controls ghosts, Cait," Ronnie hisses.

She pauses.

"It's true," Caitlin volunteers. "He does. It's...a little off-putting, not going to lie."

Len shrugs. With his battalion of ghosts still hovering around him, he's not disagreeing.

“Well, Frosty?” he says. “Zoom’s plan?”

“It's Killer Frost. And Zoom’s planning on leading his meta army against you at our Earth's STAR Labs,” Frost says, scowling. “He knows the majority of you, especially the Flash, are hiding out there. Your friends will be all barricaded in soon, and then –”

"Hey, boss!" Mick calls. "Got a problem!"

Len turns and goes after him without another word. Lacking anything else to do, the others all follow him.

And then they see -

"What the hell is that," Len says flatly. It's some sort of giant tesla coil loop-de-loop, right in the center of the room, except it's fastened to the wrists of the two people in what are quite literally cages – a young girl, undoubtedly Jesse, and a man in an iron mask.

Yes. A literal iron mask.

What the fuck even, Earth-2!

Seriously. This is just - this whole universe just abruptly moved beyond dystopia into sheer ridiculousness. Did they all suddenly get transported into a work of literature and not realize it? Is Earth-2 even a real place or is it actually some sort of nightmare-scape that they all need to be woken up from?

"It's a model," Killer Frost says frowning at the tesla coil.

"A model?" Mick asks. "That giant metal thing is a model?"

"Yes - I didn't realize before seeing this here today, but I’ve seen the design before. This is what Zoom's building over in McFeeny Commons. I don’t know exactly what it does, but I know he’s planning on using it against your friends from Earth-1 once it's complete."

While that area has long since been built over in Earth-1, Len remembers when Hillside used to be called McFeely Commons. If that's the same location as where it is in Len's world, it's not far away from the CCPD headquarters – and STAR Labs.

No wonder there was an ambush waiting there. No way Zoom would risk letting them get anywhere near his plans before they were ready.

"What's it do?" Len asks.

"No idea," Ronnie says with a disinterested shrug. "Just that it'd be big and impressive."

“And probably kill a lot of people,” Killer Frost says. She’s playing it off like she’s cool with that – heh, cool with that – but Len can see that she’s disturbed. Maybe it’s the idea of someone with her face dying.

Maybe the creepy crush Zolomon had been developing on their world’s Caitlin that has started seeping over to this world’s version. That'd be enough of a reason to be uncomfortable.

“We should call Barry,” Caitlin says, pulling out her phone, only to frown at it a minute later. “He’s not answering.”

“I’m telling you,” Killer Frost says, crossing her arms. “They’ll be barricaded into STAR Labs by now. No way Zoom’s going to let them have cell phone reception.”

Caitlin reluctantly puts her phone away.

"I can't get the cage door open," Wally says from where he's kneeling by Jesse's cage. She's reached out and linked fingers with him, so clearly he's not been doing nothing. Go Wally.

Len pulls out his cold gun.

"What's that do?" Killer Frost asks. "Ice won't work."

"This gun doesn’t do ice," Len says. "It's cold."

"What if that machine is set to explode?" Ronnie demands. "It's attached to them. They shouldn't move."

"What's your bright idea then, bozo?" Mick snaps. "Give up and throw ourselves on Zoom's non-existent mercy like a bunch of sniveling cowards?"

Ronnie snarls and throws out his hand, fireball hitting Mick in the chest.

Mick doesn't even pretend that it had any impact.

"How –?"

"I'm a ghost, you asshole," Mick growls, lifting his gun in response. It's instinct, when he's being threatened.

"Don't!" Caitlin shouts.

Mick hesitates.

Killer Frost doesn't. She throws ice, not fire, but she doesn't aim at Mick.

She aims at the machine.

There's an explosion of light.

Len automatically crouches down, bracing himself, but there's nothing.

He opens his eyes.

He's got a wall of ghosts between him – between the whole bunch of them that had been standing there, Len, Mick, Firestorm, Killer Frost and Caitlin, but not the ones who'd been closer to the machine – and the explosion. All suddenly visible, which means they grabbed power from Len, or from Mick, in order to defend him.

Killer Frost and evil Firestorm both look shaken at the sight of all those ghostly figures, as does Caitlin.

But Wally – Jesse had been attached to that thing, and he'd been holding her hand. They're both sprawled out on the floor, unconscious, as is the man in the iron mask.

Len's eyes narrow in anger. He presses his lips together as he turns to look at Killer Frost and the evil Earth-2 version of Firestorm.

The ones to blame for this.

"Grab them," he orders.

His ghosts are more than happy to comply.

"Oh god," Killer Frost says. Apparently ghosts are enough to disrupt her chill. "Let go of me!" Clearly not for very long, though.

"Mick," Len says.

"On it," Mick says, already heading over and kneeling by Wally. "I've got a heartbeat, but it's fast. Girl's, too."

"Right," Len says. "Enough of these cages."

He fires his cold gun. As Killer Frost predicted, ice didn't work, but his gun is not anything so meager as ice. The atoms slow and their connections become brittle.

A mere flick of the finger is enough to shatter the walls of the cage.

The man in the iron mask groans.

"Get the mask off of him," Len says. "Check for traps, first."

Mick checks it over. "Nothing," he says, and pulls the mask off.

It's -

"Doc Allen?" Len says, not without some disbelief.

"What the hell's he doing here?" Mick grunts.

"I don't know him," Killer Frost says, abandoning her struggles to stare.

Mick slaps the guy. Rude, but it works – he starts to stir.

Slowly, at first, then urgently, like he just remembered something.

"The children," he gasps. "Were they hit?"

"Yeah, and now they're out," Mick says. "What was that?"

"It's a transmitter," the guy says. "Zoom's been using it to steal the Speed Force from me, transfer it into him."

"You're kidding me," Len says flatly. "You telling me Earth-2 Henry Allen is the Flash? I thought Jay Garrick was the Flash."

"No, you don't understand," the guy says. "I'm Jay Garrick, not Henry Allen. And I'm from – well, I guess you'd call it Earth-3."

"Great," Mick grumbles. "More worlds."

"So Zoom is Zolomon," Len says. "Not just a patsy. Good to know."

"But you said –" Ronnie starts.

"I lie," Len says. "You'll do well to notice that. Did the transmitter harm them?"

"I don't know," Jay says. "It works on dark matter, like the Particle Accelerator did; I don't know what would happen if it got transferred to a non-speedster."

"Why were they hooked up, then?" Caitlin asks.

Jay looks nauseated. "Because it's not just set up to transfer Speed Force anymore," he says. "It's designed to pull out life force. Ever since Zoom found this guy to help him – someone from your world –"

Len feels a cold shiver roll down his spine. "Name of Cabrera, I’m gonna guess," he says, because he’s not lucky enough for it not to be that bastard.

It's not really a question, but Jay nods anyway.

"Shit," Mick says, twisting to look at Len with concern in his eyes. "Thought he'd be drained dry, boss; you said – "

"I said that was the goal," Len says. "Not that we got confirmation it succeeded. Garrick, tell me - how old would you say the guy looked? Forties?"

"No, much older. He was sixties at least – grey skin, wrinkles, white hair. Like he'd had a hard life."

"He was forties when I saw him," Len says. "And his hair was black."

"And something you did drained the life out of him?" Killer Frost asks. She sounds impressed.

"He did it to himself," Len corrects. "I just trapped him in it a little longer than he'd like." He considers the matter for a minute. "He's probably real pissed at me."

"You think?!" Mick snarls.

"What effect would it have?" Caitlin interrupts. "This – life-draining. How would Wally and Jesse be affected? They don't look any older."

"I don't know," Jay says. "I don't think – I think I was still on the draining end, not them; he hadn’t swapped it yet. That was going to be later today. And I have the Speed Force, which I think immunizes me from the life-draining aspects. As a speedster, I heal fast too fast, even without my powers."

"You think this is another method to steal B – uh, the Flash's speed?" Caitlin asks Len.

Len purses his lips. That doesn’t seem right. "If he can do that with the model," he says, "why's he need the big one? And why modify it to drain life, as well?"

"From what I’ve seen of Zoom’s experiments, in order to be effective on non-speedsters, the machine needs to be powered somehow, and the only way I've seen Zoom power it is by using the Speed Force," Jay says. "Unfortunately, it takes a lot of Speed Force energy to power it; it can drain you almost entirely, up to and sometimes past the point of death. Up until now, Zoom's been using duplicates of himself -"

"Duplicates?" Caitlin asks, alarmed.

"Knew it," Mick says.

"You run fast enough to travel in time, but only a second into the future, thus creating a time duplicate of yourself," Jay explains.

"But that would mean he's killing versions of himself," Killer Frost says, disgusted. "By putting them in the machine. Why would the versions of himself agree to that?"

"I told you, babe, he's totally nuts," Ronnie tells her.

She looks distressed, or at least Len thinks she does under all that make-up. She clearly had more faith in Zoom than Ronnie did.

“Jay, that sound about right?” Len asks.

Jay nods. “I’ve seen them talk,” he says. “He convinces his future self to sacrifice themselves, and they do it. He’s…not stable.”

“No kidding,” Mick says.

"So if what you’re saying is true, he won't be able to power a larger version of the machine by himself. That means he'll need another speedster, and the only other one available is Barry," Caitlin intervenes, gnawing at her lower lip. “He's planning on using Barry to power the machine, somehow. We need to tell Barry –”

“Barry’ll be barricaded in at STAR Labs at this point,” Len points out. “What can Zoom do to Barry while he's still in there?”

"Zoom said something about a race," a young female voice says.

They all twist to look. Jesse's woken up; she's rubbing her face. "Zoom, I mean. A race through the machine. That’s his plan."

Wally is waking up as well; a small weight lifted off Len's shoulders. He's glad they're all right and seemingly unaffected by the burst of dark matter.

"So, Zoom gets Barry to agree to race him through the machine; that way they both power it," Mick says. "But who's it meant to drain?"

"Everybody," Jay says.

"When you say everybody –"

"I mean, everybody." Jay swallows, his face gone pale. "Making the machine as large as I gather he's making it...he'll drain your friend to the death, and pour in just about everything he's got and what he's taken from me, too. Life-draining...Zoom's aiming to drain the life out of the whole city. After that, the state – maybe, eventually, this entire world."

"He says it'll make him fast enough to run through the breaches to another world," Jesse says, sounding numb. "He boasted about it to me, when he was filming me to taunt my dad. He says there are endless worlds – and he'll drain each one before moving on to the next one."

Len's mouth is dry at the thought of it. So many dead, all at once. So many regrets, so many lives unfinished. A world of ghosts, and no one to give them life, no one to help them across.

Cabrera said that he trapped ghosts in order to use them, he recalls. There's got to be something in this wretched plan for him, though; unless he's gone mad enough to share his secrets for a revenge he doesn't know if he'll ever get. Unless...

"It steals life, this machine?" he asks Jesse.

"Yeah," Jesse says.

"And converts it into – what?"

"I don't know," she says. "Speed Force, I guess." She shrugs. "I don't think it'll be able to drain the world or even the city all at once, though. It'd start local, then spread, assuming it's still powered. A whole world – I feel like you'd need a much bigger machine. Power is power, even if it's weird. This thing shouldn’t go beyond state lines – not that that’s not a horrific concept…"

“But what’s this other guy’s angle?” Killer Frost asks, frowning. “No one gives away intel that results in mass murder for free.”

“Not unless they’re just as crazy as Zoom,” Ronnie says. “Or they have something to gain.”

“The latter one’s what I’m worried about,” Len says.

"Zoom wants the Flash's power to make his machine go," Mick says, looking at Len. "You think Cabrera's still after yours?"

Len opens his mouth to dispute it, but then stalls, looking around at the crowd of ghosts that followed him in. He does nothing for them, he's done nothing for them, but they have no other hope and so they come to him. The come to him, they help him, they want to help him. Willingly and eagerly and desperately. Even now, they look hopefully at him, just for the life that rolls off of him like an exhale.

Imagine what they'd do for him if he offered to actually give them some.

A whole world of ghosts.

A whole world of slaves.

"Yeah," Len says grimly. "I think if Cabrera had my power and a reservoir of life force – life, not Speed Force – then he'd have enough juice to keep Zoom happy, and enough left over to power an entire army of ghosts to be at his beck and call. All the power Cabrera’s ever wanted and couldn’t get."

"Shit," Mick says.

"That's awful," Caitlin says. Even Killer Frost is silent, the sheer scale of murder stunning even her into silence.

"I knew it," Ronnie says bitterly into the silence. "I told you, didn’t I, Cait? I told you Zoom was planning to kill us all. This just proves it. Who needs a meta army if you have a ghost army?"

A heartbeat passes, and then Len and Mick both abruptly turn towards each other, the same idea lighting up both their eyes.

"Boss," Mick says.

"I couldn't for long," Len says. "Earth-2 needs more from me to do anything. But – I think I could do it."

"Guys?" Caitlin says. "What are you talking about?"

"What's the plan?" Wally asks, more accustomed to their disjointed ways of talking, the effects of nearly thirty years together.

"You know how Barry and the others are probably even now being barricaded into STAR Labs by the army of metas?" Len asks.

"Yeah."

"Well, as Ronnie here says," Len nods at him, "What's the only thing better than an army of metas?"

"You think you can use your ghosts as an army against Zoom's army?" Caitlin asks, brightening.

"Well," Len says. "Only one way to find out."