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greenninjagal-blog · 4 years ago

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Deja Vu pt 5

Heyyy guys! whos ready for 24 pages of hurt and comfort and then plot? If you’re new around you can find the first chapter [here] and if you need a refresher, the previous chapter is [here]!

Summary: Remus can see the future. Sometimes too much. Dee is there to pick up the pieces.

Word Count: 10283

TW: mentions of suicide in detail, temporary character death, blood,

Read on Ao3 || My general Writing masterlist

Its three AM and there’s something wrong.

Its three AM and he’s standing on the balcony of a hotel in a city he doesn’t remember the name of and he hasn’t slept in a day and a half. His head hurts, and his throat is dry, and he’s having a hard time keeping his hands from shaking.

The air smells, like smog and like grime and earth and rain, like something so familiar and worldly that he should be grounded in it and not just floating over everything. Any yet here he is, floating, drifting, hovering and haunting and utterly untouchable by anything.

The sky is heavy and hard and dark, grumbling and threatening with its load so much so that one couldn’t tell where one cloud started and another ended. It was reminiscent of the gritty asphalt of a highway, of black snow piled on the sides of the roads, of endless piles of ashes.

There’s something wrong.

With him.

Its the fourth floor, and the balcony framed by a blackmetal fence. A few doors down another guest has left a flag up for some sports team and it flaps in a breeze that one wouldn’t be able to feel on his arms. Actually he can’t feel his arms at all anymore. He can’t feel anything, anymore.

Down below there’s nothing but a parking lot: concrete sidewalks and empty vehicles and a couple lamps that bring just enough light that phantom people don’t trip over the sidewalk on their drowsie attempts to get inside before the skies crack open again. Its quiet.

Too quiet, he thinks. Like the whole world was holding its breath.

Its makes the sounds of sirens and broken glass and a car alarm screech in his head. His fingers curl around the railing, stiff and cold and white knuckled. He feels….mechanical, with his joints frozen solid and his breath so even he forgets its there. Like his body isn’t his own even though its the only one he’s ever known, and someone else is holding the controls. He’s stuck.

But he’s not really. He knows he’s not. At any point he can make a choice.

He just hasn’t yet. He’s holding his breath along with the world, with the sky, with the night and the shadows and the future.

And because he’s holding his breath, he’s stuck here, seeing, watching, feeling, thinking, floating.

--He stays, and its as easy as breathing, as lonely as it is too. The air is cool, the rain starts in thirty minutes, chilling to the touch and turning his body to stone. There’s nothing to watch, but he does it anyway: stare into the emptiness around him and forget everything he’s ever been. Time drip, drip, drips away and the sky is still crying and Dee is too when he finds him for some reason.---

--He stays, and its as hard as breathing, as lonely as it is too. The air is cool and the rain starts in thirty minutes but by that time he’s sitting on the railing with his legs between the rungs waiting for a whisper to knock him off. Time drip, drip, drips away, and the sky is still crying by the time Dee breaks down the door to his room in a frantic desperate frenzy--

--He leaves, turns, heads back inside without a fuss. There’s a complimentary water bottle on the desk and the remains of Wendy’s frosty that he never finished thats an accurate representation of what his insides look like. It's funny going down his throat, like drinking warm swamp water and tasting each tadpole egg as it goes down his throat. It makes him want to laugh, makes him want to feel something, makes him so tired and he shuffles over to the Queen sized bed and face plants into the torn and shredded comforter. He doesn’t sleep, can’t sleep, won’t sleep and his headache makes him wish the comforter suffocated him.--

Its three am.

--He leaves, turns, goes without even stopping to grab his room keycard. His head is sudsy, fuzzy, buzzy and the complementary lights make his eyes ache in a way beyond being physical. He avoids tripping on the fourth step on the staircase. The air feels like static, like his thoughts, like everything and anything and nothing at all. There’s no one outside, not at this hour, not in this section of the city when the sky is so finicky like this. There’s a 24hour diner, and he knows its there because he and Dee ate there earlier and the music was shit but it was louder than his thoughts right?

“Uh,” The waiter says, when he shows up. “We have a no shoes-no shirt- no service policy?” Like its a question. And its funny in a way that makes everything around him feel like cotton. He didn’t even realize he wasn’t wearing shoes.--

--He leaves, turns, goes without even stopping to grab his room keycard. His head is sudsy, fuzzy, buzzy and the complementary lights make his eyes ache in a way beyond being physical. He avoids tripping on the fourth step on the staircase. The air feels like static, like his thoughts, like everything and anything and nothing at all. He walks in a direction, any direction, this direction, that direction until he’s as lost as he feels and the sky cracks open and drowns him--

Its Three AM.

--He goes, slowly, lethargically, but determined. He collects his things, his memories, his presence, and stuffs them back in his travel bag and zips it shut with more force than is necessary. Shoes, shirt, jacket, soap. His head is sudsy, fuzzy, buzzy and the complementary lights make his eyes ache in a way beyond being physical. He avoids tripping on the fourth step on the staircase. The air feels like static, like his thoughts, like everything and anything and nothing at all. He stops, stands, breathes like his lungs are on fire and he has so many regrets but nothing hurts more than when he thinks about how Dee is gonna hate him when he wakes up in a few hours and finds himself all alone again--

--He goes, quickly, chaotically, but reluctantly. He collects his things, his mistakes, his presence, and stuffs them in his bag zipping it closed. Shoes, shirt, key card. His head is sudsy, fuzzy, buzzy and the complementary lights make his eyes ache in a way beyond being physical. He stops outside the door across the hall and he’s just enough of an asshole to unball his jacket and gently hook it over the door handle for Dee to find in the morning and hate him for. The air feels like static, and its buzzes under his skin breaking through the numbness as he walks to that stupid 24 hour bus station and disappears forev--

--He goes, quickly, chaotically, but reluctantly. He collects his things, his mistakes, his presence, and stuffs them in his bag zipping it closed. Shoes, shirt, jacket, soap. His head is sudsy, fuzzy, buzzy and the complementary lights make his eyes ache in a way beyond being physical. He stops outside the door across the hall and before he knows what he’s doing his knuckles are rapping on the wood so hard, so loudly, so desperately that he can feel the shockwaves all the way to his elbow.

Dee opens the door, looking disgruntled and like he just woke up (he did, he has, he will) but not upset and really thats all he needs to see isn’t it? He doesn’t really think because the second that the door is open far enough, he’s launching himself into Dee’s arms and they both stumble backwards into the room. Dee should tell him to get lost because its too early to be anything other than insane but he doesn’t and then his lips are colliding with any part of Dee he can get to and--

ITS THREE AM.

--He throws his head back and scREAMS. As loudly as he can, as long as he can, as much as he can until he can’t breathe, until the silence of the morning shatters like the glass facade it is, until the echoes of his voice are ringing in his ears and he can’t possibly hope to hear anything else. Until the lights of the surrounding buildings flicker on and the other visitors are frantically looking out to find the source and the banging on his door matches timing with the pounding in his own brain. He screams until he can’t anymore because he’s too busy laughing.--

--The TV is on and then its not because his fist is going through the screen in a mess of blood and knuckles and laughter--

--His bag is in his hands and then its not because he’s throwing it over the railing to see if it sets off the car alarms when it smashes the windshield of the car on the street.--

--He’s on the railing, balancing like a tightrope walker and then he’s not because he bent his knees and jum--

Its strange, He thinks, watching his crumpled body dent the front of an SUV and feeling each shard of the windshield going through his spine and flesh and setting off all the fun dazzling alarms that can be set off.

Its strange because this is not the first time he’s seen his life snuffed out. Its not even the hundredth time. Tonight alone he’s seen his body go into a freefall at least three hundred times.

Its strange, he thinks, its weird. Its three AM and there’s something wrong with him.

It takes a whole minute for the receptionist running the front desk to come running out of the building because she hadn’t been looking and the car alarm was the first thing that warned her anything was wrong. It takes thirty seconds for someone else to react to her screaming. Another minute for someone to open out their doors and come running to her aid. At three minutes, there’s a man standing over his body, yelling.

Then the vision cuts off because he can only see three minutes after his death and not a millisecond more.

He’s stuck watching again and again.

A million possible futures, a billion different endings, a trillion things that could be tweaked ever-so-slightly that change the outcomes, and he can see them all. It doesn’t make sense-- shouldn’t if he thinks too much about it. Because time should be passing while he stands here watching his death, but instead the whole world halts while he flickers in and out of reality and he can’t-- won’t-- isn’t--

There’s no what ifs. There’s the facts: this will happen when he jumps, when he falls, when he dies, when he goes back to bed, when he runs away.

Something warm hits his hand, practically igniting his whole arm. Suddenly he snaps out of the loop, blinking three times and the world returns to him as the present moment. He blinks slowly looking down at his hand where the shadow of a dark liquid is splattered just below his index finger knuckle, rolling over the side of his hand, and pooling on the flat of the railing he was gripping. Laughter rumbles in his chest, crawling up his throat like a hundred beetles trying to find their ways out by any means possible.

His legs buckle and his knees hit the concrete at the same time his giggles start exploding between his lips into the silent morning. He clings to the railing and presses his forehead into the slim bars, as his chest heaves for oxygen that doesn’t quite taste right. He gulps in so much he can’t imagine why he feels lightheaded, his mouth tastes like blood, and his palms itch where the cold metal is cutting to the flesh.

He’s twenty one, richer than he ever dreamed of being, and there is something wrong with him.

Why is there something wrong with him?

Dee doesn’t have this problem. Dee changes into other people, animals, hybrids all the time; how come he doesn’t get stuck? Why doesn’t he wander around with a head full of golden curls and horns? Why don’t his legs morph into a fishtail without warning sometimes? Why doesn’t Dee wake up in a fit because he can't remember who he is or who he’s pretending to be?

Why is he the only one who can’t get a grip on himself as he floats in the air like the coming rain and then goes crashing to the street below again and again and again?

Why can’t--

Why--

Why is there always blood trailing down his face? Why does his head hurt so much and why does his mouth taste so bad? Why is he stuck staring at the congealed blobs on the concrete underneath him and why does he feel so numb about it? Why can’t he just--

-- The windshield shatters underneath him, his head slams against the roof, so hard everything bends and breaks and his soul is forcibly ejected from his body and that alarm screeches into the sky and the girl at the front desk comes running out, screams, and then the guy is over him, yelling nonsense and climbing on the hood with him, reaching out, fingers pressing against his non existent pul--

Its so annoying. He knows it's annoying. He’s annoying.

His skin prickles and itches with phantom glass shards. And his eyes ache and burn in a way that makes them water and screw themselves closed. And his head pounds and drums to a rock concert that outplays the thunder overhead.

He’s stuck, on the fourth floor balcony, with his forehead pressed to the railing, with his mind floating in the nothingness, the everythingness, the possibilities and the emptiness. He’s lost, losing himself, free falling and smashing into the hood of the car again.

And its three AM still, forever and never and he wants it to stop being three AM and wants to stop feeling his spine snap like a toothpick.

But that means he has to move and change things and make a decision.

And he shouldn’t be scared of this, shouldn’t be worried, shouldn’t want to cry just because he needs to make a choice. Everyone makes choices, everyday, without even thinking about what they could be affecting. Who they could be affecting.

And most of the time those choices don’t mean anything at all. What kind of cereal do you want to eat? What music do you listen to? How many alarms do you sleep through? In the end it doesn’t matter. How can it?

Everyone dies after all.

-- car alarm screeches into the air, stealing all the peace and quiet and the isolation from the night. The girl at the front desk comes running out, tripping over the curb when she sees exactly what landed on the hood of the car and her scream is so fucking funny he wants to laugh but he twisted a little in the air and now there’s glass shards cutting open his lungs and filling them with blood and his vision is all blurry, cutting out faster than before, but slower than that time he fell purposely head first and isn’t it weird how he calls it “falling” as if he didn’t bend at the knee and--

Everyone dies.

So why does he still care so much? Why does it still hurt to think about Silver Sedans and why cant he glance at snow globes without remembering how easy they are to swing down on someone’s unsuspecting skull? Why does he still think about doctors and therapy and wonder why it hadn't worked before?

Everyone dies.

And yet he cant breathe when he thinks about casino cash boxes in the middle of crowds, about jewelry store doors being blown open, about children who think "super power" and "can do no wrong" are synonymous. He cant breathe when he thinks about all the meanings of the term "suddenly", about how quick and fast things can happen, about how differently things could have gone.

Did it make a difference?

Was it the right one?

Or was it supposed to be that Roman, for all his liveliness, for all his popularity, for all his basking in attention and the terrible life lessons he had taken upon himself to teach his brother-- was it supposed to be that Roman should have died 13 years ago to a reckless teenage driver in a silver sedan? That Dee should have died several endless months ago stealing a cash box he couldn't have kept? That one day soon a man named Logan will find his life suddenly stolen by a misstep on a rainy afternoon?

Was he supposed to be changing things? Or was he supposed to have merely watched, observed, accepted?

What if there were choices and because he made the wrong ones, he is falling, falling, falling, splat, now?

Everyone dies.

-- girl at the front desk comes running out, tripping over the curb when she sees exactly what landed on the hood of the car and her scream is so fucking funny he wants to laugh but he twisted a little in the air and now there’s glass shards cutting open his lungs and filling them with blood and his vision is all blurry--

Is this how he's supposed to go?

Its Three AM and time doesn’t move but somehow he finds himself lying on the balcony twisted up in knots and drooling blood from the back of his itchy, burning throat. He’s on the cement balcony; he’s on the hood of a car. His fingers are wrapped around the railing like he thought it could anchor him in the middle of a hurricane; His arm is twisted and broken up in seven different ways and there are shards of glass in his shoulder cutting off the nerves. Its raining soft and sweet and gentle; he’s crying because this is not how he wants to go, please don’t make him go like this, he doesn’t want to leave--

He’s alive and breathing through undamaged lungs; He’s dead and Roman is twelve minutes older than him because his vision is black and the front desk girl is screaming again.

The thunder rumbles. He feels it in the air when every molecule in Earth's atmosphere vibrates and in the ground when every raindrop splatters into nothingness. He can feel the rain pouring over his body, plastering his thin shirt to his heavy limbs, caressing his face to the point where he can't tell the difference between it and the from blood in his hair--

--twisted a little in the air and now there’s glass shards cutting open his lungs and filling them with blood and his vision is all blurry, cutting out faster--

He's on the ground splayed out like a massacre. A hot mess, except he's so cold and empty and everything hurts.

When was the last time he slept?

His head aches, his eyes feel so heavy, and there’s something twisting in his chest: something wriggling and heavy that’s not the glass tearing through his muscles, but just as real as it. He thinks it's terror. But how can he be scared when this is what's supposed to be happening?

Unless it's not. In that case he should be more than just a little scared. He should be frightened, horrified, aghast. His limbs shouldn’t feel like lead weights dragging him down because there should be adrenaline, right? He should be so desperate to change this fate that he launches himself--

--the guy is over him, yelling nonsense and climbing on the hood with him, reaching out, fingers pressing against his non existent pulse and he almost wants to curl into the touch but he’s dead and his vision is black and there’s nothing left--

--back into the hotel room, tripping over the sliding door base and stumbling his way into the carpet. He should be so full of nerves and that his hands are shaking, that he can’t imagine being alone, that he throws himself out the door and across the hall to the safety that is Dee’s always welcoming arms.

Because Dee is safe. And warm. And Dee’s….Dee’s…

They’ve been running around for months now, amassing a fortune larger than they can just carry around, enough to buy the moon from the sky if they wanted it, enough for them to not need to have two separate rooms at all.

But if they share a room, he knows what will happen. What should happen. He knows the only reason Dee doesn’t know about everything, about his hatred of the color red, about why he won’t get near a silver sedan, about why he needed to make that phone call just to hear that his mother had completely forgotten him again-- the only reason why Dee doesn’t know is because he hasn’t asked yet.

Is it a mercy? Or a threat?

Can it be both?

Is it supposed to be both?

He can’t keep a secret. Not for the life --cutting open his lungs and filling th-- the life of him. Not from Dee. Because he’s seen a billion deaths that could have happened, he’s seen a hundred different realities and drowned in all of them.

Because he’s tasted asphalt under the tires of cars on a highway, felt the wind caress him off the top of skyscrapers, fallen asleep in a bathtub of blood in a hotel room. Because he’d died so many times before he ever reached Twenty One and no one cared.

But suddenly Dee had shown up and he kisses like he knows time is limited here on this Earth, in a way that he’s never been able to convince anyone else. Not Roman who sang and danced to everyone else’s tune, not his mother who tried to fix him and then forgot him when that got too improbable, not his dad who stayed silent when he should have been anything else, not the kids at school, not his teachers, not his doctors.

Dee had shown up believing in him and that meant something. He didn’t want it to mean nothing in the end. He didn’t want it to end.

Not like this.

Please, not like this. Please, please, please, pleasepleaseplease--

“REMUS!”

Its not Three AM but Remus is staring at the pouring rain in the sky wondering what the fucking hell just happened to him.

He’s wet and not in a fun way. His head rings. The air is lighter, the morning later, and his limbs are trembling from being outside in the middle of a fucking thunderstorm. His clothes stick to him like a second skin, and Remus does not like the implications of that at all.

He blinks, once, twice, thrice, and his lungs struggle to gain anything worth keeping. Everything in him is screaming for his attention, making him writhe with the sudden influx of stimuli. His fingers and toes are freezing, his stomach is aching, his head pounds and his thoughts feel like the inside of his brain is coated with molasses or some shit that makes him so slow to register anything around him.

The touch is burning. Remus at once needs it like he needs oxygen and needs it gone because its boiling him alive from the inside out. He wants to scream, but the most he can get is a pathetic little whimper.

“Remus, what the fuck,” Dee says so unelquently that Remus is pretty sure he’s crying.

That makes two of them.

“I don’t--” Remus clings to Dee, because he’s real and solid, and Remus’s throat is coated in blood from a swan dive he didn’t take. “I don’t, I don’t, please--”

The balcony is slick with blood and rain, mixing so freely Remus has a hard time looking at it. Dee helps him move, slowly, because everything makes him dizzy. Water pours off pockets on his body, and drags the dredges of his insides over the edge and on to the car below. Remus flinches with each drop, each splash, each splatter.

Remus wants to laugh. He cries instead.

“I’ve got you,” Dee says. “I’ve got you, darling.”

Remus almost wonders who he’s talking to. Darling? Him? Isn’t there someone else Dee should be calling that? Someone softer, someone kinder, someone who isn’t covered in their own blood and getting snot on his clean vest? Someone who doesn’t hold himself at a distance and play pretend that he’s okay like he’s still eight years old and hasn’t picked up that stupid red rubber ball yet?

“Remus,” Dee says, and it takes him a moment to focus on the way that Dee is in front of him, a hand gently cupping his chin and sending shivers all through his frantic body. They’re so close and Remus is sobbing and Dee is still here.

��I don’t need you,” Roman had said four years ago and then again every time Remus had closed his eyes since. Roman had been his tether, his anchor, his goal and his reason to do just about anything. Because that was what brothers were for, right? He had done everything he could to see his brother smile, to see Roman feel loved, to see Roman live unafraid of dying.

But when Remus was floating alone in the nothingness, the emptiness, the everythingness, Dee was the one who had shown up. Why was it that a stranger he met by chance at a casino wanted him there more than his own brother? Why was Remus covered in blood and crying and one swan dive from becoming an actual hot mess and Dee was still here, holding him, calling him darling, and speaking to him so softly?

“The one thing I want…is for us to stick together.” Dee had said several hundred billion futures ago.

Dee is right there and Remus can see the stars in his eyes, those soft, worried blue grey eyes that are uniquely his right along with the tears trailing down his face. Dee is right there and his hair is swept to the side, utterly mused from its the slicked back look that Dee likes. Dee is right there.

And Remus’s lips are on his.

Remus feels like he’s back in that IHOP from forever ago, feels like he’s bending over a table and just put Dee’s hand in syrup for funsies, feels like the clueless waitress is about to run over to them and command that they stop. He feels like he never punched Dee in the face for having feelings, feels like there was never a kid in that mall, feels like he didn’t drive for ten hours just to get away from himself.

Dee kisses like he needs the control. Remus kisses like every second is going to be his last.

Because everyone dies at some point and Remus is not the kind of person people stick around with. Because at any moment he might lose everything. Because the universe and the deities he doesn’t believe in are not nice. Because Remus, of all the people in the entire world, is aware of how short a second can be.

Dee pulls back with a pant, his pupils are blown wide, like a fucking cat. His fangs tease from between his lips, dripping with a smear of blood that’s probably Remus’s.

“I can’t tell if it's the blood loss or if you’re serious,” Dee says in that nauseating smart tone of his, “But can we put a pin in this?”

“Fuck you,” Remus says, because he can’t really think of anything else to say to him when he looks like that, when Remus’s chest hurts, when he’s so tired he thinks standing might kill him, when he’s so cold and Dee’s lips are a fire that he wants to ignite the rest of his body.

“Clothes off first,” Dee says somehow breathless and with more oxygen than Remus thinks he can ever get into his lungs. He can feel his fingers, twisting and pulling at the edge of Remus’s soaked shirt, dragging it up and over Remus’s head without any help from him at all.

Remus leans forward before the curve of the collar can stop him and chases after Dee’s warm lips.

“Rem--fuck, fuck, Remus!” Dee says again, and its the softest way anyone has ever said his name before. “Remus, we have to get you into dry clothes--” But then Dee is the one pushing his lips into Remus’s so what does it matter?

Water drips from Remus’s bangs into his eyes, and blood makes his mouth taste like metal and whatever the fuck it was that he ate last. Dee tugs at his shirt again and it finally comes off of him. Without any ceremony it goes flying behind them, somewhere in the room, and the resounding splat makes Remus flinch.

Dee hoists him up from under his arms, holding him when Remus ragdolls completely and stars blur his vision entirely. Remus digs his chin into Dee’s shoulder (he’s taller again; taller and stronger and carries Remus without real problems). Remus should feel bad, probably, because he’s soaked to the bone and now Dee is too, but all he feels is tired. A flicker of pain dances in his awareness, his arm whimpering from cuts Dee gave him at the rest stop. Its gone before he even recognizes what it is fully.

“Your internal temperature,” Dee breathes, placing Remus down, and oh this is familiar. A bathtub. Remus has been in a tons of those before taking keys, scissors, his own nails to his own w-- “is a fucking ice cube.”

Dee’s hands are trailing on his shoulders, on his collarbone, up his neck and cupping his cheeks. He’s so warm, and his touches paint Remus in invisible blisters, like Dee is turning his body into an arsonist’s memorial. He’s a pyre and Dee is the torch come to turn him to ash.

The water is a surprise. The rumbling of the hotel pipes sounds like thunder and Remus tries really, really hard not to let his stomach swoop with the dizziness the pounding in his head makes. Dee is talking to him, Remus thinks. But the words sound so much more prettier when he can’t understand them.

Dee has a really nice voice. Remus likes it, likes him. He likes the way it sounds talking french even when Dee is drunk off his ass, he likes the way it makes shapes and moves when he’s speaking, he likes the way the words always seem so genuine even when they aren’t, won’t, can’t be.

Remus feels his head tip back and his eyes follow the way that Dee’s lips form that perfect circle and maybe that’s a bad thing, but he can feel all his limbs tingling from warmth for the first time in fifty billion Three AMs that didn’t happen.

He is scared, but Dee is still here.

He lets his eyes close and sleeps and trusts that Dee not is go ing to b e lik e ev er y ot her pe rson tha t Re mu s ha s e v e r m e t

H e c o me s to w ith hi s he ad fe eling heav y as s hit a nd his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Remus is warm, and its the type of warmth that he hadn't remembered he’d forgotten: the type that reaches all the way down to his toes, to the tips of his fingers, that winds its way around his limbs and cocoons him in an embrace that makes him want to stay there forever. He’s warm and safe and its all he’s ever wanted.

“--strikes again! It seems that wherever malcontent is stewing, the Prince shows up to stop it. This week alone he’s been all up and down the East Coast. Crime rates in nearly seven states have gone down 8% over this past month.”

Remus blinks his eyes open, with far more effort than he probably should need. He feels tired, in a way that's ingrained deep in his bones, carved into the marrow with a switchblade and decorated with flesh that's only there for show and not for use.

“I hear you, John. At the press conference held by the Department of Defense earlier today, Princeps--”

“See, Is it Princeps or Prince? I’ve heard it both ways recently.”

Remus is in a bed and he’s under the covers, tucked in with a care Remus doesn’t think he’s been given since that day he first saw Roman die and his mother didn’t know why he was crying yet. The ceiling looks like popcorn kernels, and he has a lucid memory of sharing a bag of popcorn with Dee and tasting the salt and butter and feeling his teeth break on the unexpected seeds.

“I think it was Princeps. Although Prince certainly has a much better ring to it. Brings back the chivalry, doesn’t it, Ladies? If he keeps this up I’m gonna start expecting more from the men around me-- that means you too, John! Coffee on Tuesdays isn’t going to be enough.”

“Oh good god Karen! You sound like my wife. Pretty soon us normal guys aren’t gonna be able to begin to compete with the World’s First Real Superhero.”

“Oh Fuck that noise,” Dee says, followed by a thump of something hitting the ground across the room.

It takes much more energy than Remus thinks it should but he manages to leverage himself just a bit: folds his arms to his sides and presses his elbows into the quicksand mattress and with a grunt he pushes his limp upper body into the air. For a wonderful split second, he stays upright, breathing fine and taking in the sight of Dee sitting casually at the foot of the bed, legs crossed and one of his dress shoes in his lap with a buffing brush in his hand.

Dee spins at the noise, dropping his brush and tossing his other shoe into the void around them. “Remus!” He’s around the bed in the next instant, gently catching Remus’s shoulders and laying him back on the mattress. “You’re awake-- I didn’t-- Are you-- wait no fuck…”

His touch is fire, even through the T-shirt Remus is in, which, he realizes in a cotton stuffed thought process, doesn’t smell like his own. There’s the distinct smell of fresh ink, of shoe polish and dried linen and of something that he hasn’t ever been able to put a name too other than “Dee”. He’s wearing Dee’s clothes, lying in Dee’s bed, wrapped up in Dee’s blankets and Dee is standing over him fretting like a mother hen.

Its almost funny considering that Remus can’t remember if his own mother had ever done that for him.

Remus wonders what it would take to get Dee to lie down next to him and sleep too.

He blinks and when he opens his eyes again Dee is kneeling next to him and urging an open bottle of water to his lips. Remus takes it like a drowning man takes in air. Its cool, almost cold, even though logically Remus knows its just room temperature and it feels so fucking good going down his throat and taking away the bad taste in his mouth.

Its like metal and Remus tried very super hard not to imagine the finger’s propping his neck up as shards of a windshield slicing through his medulla. His tongue pries off the roof of his mouth he nearly chokes on the small sip he gets.

Dee pulls the water away but he stays and Remus thinks that three inches has never been so far away before in his life. Dee’s breath is warm, a tickle against his cheek, a caress that for some stupid reason makes him want to cry.

Isn’t he out of tears yet?

“Hey,” Dee says, barely more than a whisper, as if he’s afraid talking too loud will shatter this reality. Remus kinda wishes he’d forgo all the talking and just go back to kissing him; his thoughts are fuzzy but Remus is certain there’s at least one place that Dee missed on his neck.

“He…” Remus swallows, “hey.”

“You alright?” Dee says possibly softer than before. It almost doesn’t suit him at all. Remus has known him for months now, known every inch of his personality, every scale on his face, every breath from his lungs. Remus has seen him live and laugh and love and lie and its all been loud and proud. He’s not soft and he’s not kind and Remus loves that about him.

Soft and kind people are forgettable; Dee is not.

“I’m…” Remus’s mouth is too full of words to actually say anything at all. His chest aches when he inhales, and “Kiss me again?”

There’s three inches between them, two, one, and Remus’s lips touch against his so softly he almost thinks it is a dream. Light as a feather, careful, and simple, like he’s asking a question and waiting for Remus to say “no”. For a greedy as he is-- and yes Remus knows Dee’s greedy, knows that when money is involved his appetite for it grows tenfold, knows that they could have all the luxuries in the world and Dee would still want something more, knows that “satisfied” is not a word in any dictionary Dee has-- for as greedy as Dee is, the way he kisses here, now, in this instant, is like he won’t fight if it gets taken from him.

(Which is as stupid as it is ridiculous. When was the last Remus had denied him something he wanted?)

“Like this?” Dee breathes into his mouth, “Kiss you like this?”

This is different, this is new, this is strange, Remus thinks. Because this is not like any future he’s ever seen. Not like bending over an IHOP table, not like knocking on Dee’s door in the middle of the night, not like winding his fingers around Dee’s suit lapels or his tie or his waist and dragging him closer.

Its warmer, burning through him like he’s made of gasoline and even the smallest touch of their lips is enough to make Remus combust. Dee doesn’t bite, although Remus knows he can, and usually does, but takes all that Remus will give him.

“Ye-yes,” Remus pants, “please--”

Dee smiles at him, a wisp of his brown hair floating down over his misty eyes. He looks like an angel, ethereal and untouchable. Remus is so busy being in awe of the way he looks that he completely misses the flash of movement in his peripherals until the pillow is actively coming down on him.

“Fucking!” Dee snarls, slamming it down on his face again and again, “Dumbass! What the hell were you thinking?!”

“Ow! Owowowow!” Remus yelps in between being smothered. Is it bad he kinda likes it? “Sorry!”

Dee slaps the pillow on his head one more time and then sits back on his haunches. He pants a couple times, because he’s a prissy rich white boy who’s never worked out before now, and then massages his temples.

“Goddamned idiot,” Dee huffs, “What the hell was that? You didn’t answer your door and so I shifted my way in and you just fucking... you were... I thought...”

Remus watched him breathe, watched him shudder and shake and stare down at the carpet like it held more answers than Remus’s face.

“Dee--”

“I know what we said, okay?” Dee spits out, “I know that we made that agreement about no feelings or shit but I lied okay! I can’t do this without having emotions. I look at you and I just… I don’t want to ever see you hurt. I’ve been looking up medical references on how to handle the nosebleeds and I’ve been trying to get you to eat foods to thicken your blood just a bit because god knows you don’t eat enough broccoli as it is--”

“Dee.”

“--and I was trying to figure out how to say something because I’ve known something has been up for so long now and I should have said something sooner-”

“Dee.”

“--but then you were just about out of your mind all that day and you took the keys and drove us and I was afraid if I said something you were gonna leave me behind and I think if I lose you I’m not gonna… I’m not gonna…”

“Dee!” Remus says and the shapeshifter finally looks up at him. His eyes are red rimmed, and his face is pinched like he’s trying still trying to hold back a word hurricane and it’s tearing him up inside.

“I’m sorry,” Dee says, with a quivering lip. “I’m sorry, I’m sorrysorrysorr--”

Remus wants to launch himself off the bed and steal the syllables from Dee’s mouth. He manages to flop over, and hang himself off the edge of the bed, dangerously close to falling right into Dee’s lap.

“Why are you apologizing?”

Dee stares at him, like he’s from another world, like he’s not real, like he’s another piece of a future that isn’t going to happen and Remus wonders why this one feels more fake than any other future he’s ever lived through.

“That’s super not like you,” Remus says, talking like there isn’t a lump the size of a boulder in his throat, talking and hoping his words aren’t gonna be the thing that scares Dee away finally, talking without thinking, “But if you really want to make it up to me, you can get back up here and kiss me again. Maybe something saucier if you--”

Dee hits him with the pillow again, and he tumbles off the bed right into Dee’s lap, bruising where his head collides with a knee and his neck does something not-good.

And then… well then Remus is staring up at Dee and whatever else he could possibly say wanders off somewhere in his mind, leaving only a painful silence in their wake: a sizeable gap, a puzzle piece hole where something should be but there isn’t and it pretty much ruins the whole picture now, doesn’t it?

“Tell me something, Re,” Dee says and Remus thinks that he should have said something, anything, everything, anyway.

Whatever it would have taken to get away from this, to put it off, to push it away until they both forgot about it and things wouldn’t have to change. He doesn’t want things to change, doesn’t want Dee to look at him and expect something different because if he does Remus will and then he’ll slip up one day and Dee will realize how much better off he could be and then Remus will be alone.

And he was alone for four years and he doesn’t want to do that again. Not now. Not ever.

He doesn’t think he can. The idea of driving without having to fight over the radio station, of having to talk to the hotel receptionists himself or sleep in his car again, of turning with one of his hilarious comments only to find an empty space next to him? It makes his stomach rebel to consider.

Out of all the people in the world he knows how lonely being alone can be.

“How long?” Dee says, “How long were you out there?”

For a moment Remus thinks about lying. Of saying just a few minutes, thirty tops, don’t look at me like that. Of pretending, of doing that make believe-- but then he remembers how much lying is like acting and how much he hates being a performer.

“Since… three am.” Remus says and the honesty burns his tongue, “And I couldn’t…I couldn’t move. I was stuck.”

Dee’s grip on him tightens, which is frankly startling because Remus hadn’t even realized Dee was holding him. There’s an audible swallow, a gulp, that’s nearly a whimper and Remus doesn’t know which of them make it.

“Th-three,” Dee echoes, lips shaking so much that Remus sees double and wonders if he could kiss that shake away. “W-what do you mean you were stuck?”

Remus blinks away the cold feeling of rain pouring over his body, of gravity dragging his core downwards, of his neck snapping to the side, of a receptionist screaming and car alarms turning his thoughts to mush.

“Like… like just physically stuck, Remus?” Dee asks, “Like you fell and hurt yourself and couldn’t get up?”

He sounds so hopeful about it that Remus wants to lie again.

He grinds his molars together and shakes his head instead. There’s blood in the back of his throat. Why does the truth always end with blood? On a snowglobe shattered on Roman’s head, on the gravel after it drips from Dee’s nose, in the back of Remus’s throat right here, right now.

“Stuck,” Remus says, “as in I couldn’t get out of the future.”

Dee breathes slow, hard, painfully. “Th-that can happen?”

Its not like Dee to be scared. It makes Remus feel less stupid for hiding it for so long. He doesn’t trust himself not to start unravelling at his seams if he opens his mouth again so he just wiggles his shoulders.

Dee exhales every atom in his lungs, Remus breathes them all in. The silence is awful, but its better than words.

“Has it...have I made…” Dee says, which is bad.

“No,” Remus says, so tired, so exhausted, “No, Dee. You didn’t make me do anything, okay? Don’t think that. I look because I want to. And when I get stuck its my fault--”

“What causes you to get stuck?”

Remus’s mouth closes with a click. His eyelids ache, heavy and itchy but his arms are way too cumbersome to even think about rubbing them.

“I don’t…” Remus says and stops, because he does know. He spent all morning thinking about it, spent eleven billion trillion freefalls thinking about it, spent a thunderstorm and an unconsciousness thinking about it. What causes him to get stuck?

What makes the visions repeat, the future to become repetitive? What makes living feel like deja vu?

“Whats the smallest animal you’ve ever turned into?” Remus asks, “Like an ant? A worm, maybe a spider?”

Dee crinkles his nose at the mention of spiders. “An African Egg Eating snake. I used to ride in the pocket of….nevermind. Why are you asking?”

(Its the first time Dee has ever brought up the insinuation that someone else knows about his power. Remus doesn’t know what to think about that so he doesn’t.)

“When you were that small, did you ever…were you ever afraid? Of being crushed?”

“You get stuck in the future because you’re afraid of it?” There’s no judgement in his voice, just desperate curiosity and a need to understand why Remus is so fucking suicidal.

“That’s not an answer,” Remus points out, but it falls flat when Dee just stares at him. “No. Or yes. Maybe? Do you know how many possibilities there are in the universe? How many things are impacted from just one decision? The Butterfly Effect-- you know that right?”

Dee’s eyebrows furrow, “You mean from the concept of time travel? Where if you go back in time and kill a butterfly you can start a chain reaction of events that drastically alter the future and prevent yourself from ever being born?”

“Yes!” Remus says, “Exactly. Except think about if Every. Single. Object. Is a Butterfly. Your clothes are a butterfly, your shoes are a butterfly, what cereal you eat in the morning is a butterfly, the music you listen to, what bus you take, if you make eye contact with a stranger, if you smile-- They’re all fucking butterflies.”

Dee’s not following. Its cute how he tries to pretend like he is.

Remus swallows and tries again, “You wear a suit most days, right? Say we’re out in public and you wear a suit and so as we’re walking everyone moves out of the way for you, cause like… youve got money. One of the guys who moves out of the way isn’t watching where he’s moving and he bumps into a woman with a baby waiting at a crosswalk. She’s off balance so she falls into the road and oh no a bus is coming! Splat! No more woman or baby all because you wore a suit. And the bus driver gets fired and the media paints him as a devil so he can’t get rehired and really thats just the last straw since his wife died of lung disease last week so he gets a belt and bye bye. Guess what his son sees when he stops by for a visit the next day? Everyone loves free trauma--”

“Remus,” Dee says, “You need to breathe.”

Remus gasps in all the air in the entire world and its still not enough to calm him down. Its not enough and Remus doesn’t think it will ever be enough. He’s shaking right there in Dee’s arms and he’s begging for air that his lungs refuse to hold.

“There are so many,” Remus wheezes, “So many, Dee. And people die all the fucking time in them.”

“Shhh,” Dee murmurs but Remus can’t get himself to stop.

“Everyone dies and I can’t-- I don’t-- If I don’t stop it isn’t it my fault? If I do stop it, is that what I’m supposed to do? I was standing there and I could see everything and I felt so wrong doing it. What if next time I’m not fast enough? What if something like the mall happens again? What if I can’t save you in time and I’m left staring at your corpse knowing I could have?”

Dee smells like shoe polish and dried ink. His heartbeat feels like a drum beat, pounding louder than Remus’s thoughts when the shapeshifter yanks him up and into a hug that Remus can’t possibly hope to return. He doesn’t realize he’s crying again until the side of his face is pressed into Dee’s chest and he’s breathing in the scents and hearing that heartbeat.

Dee’s hands rub fiery circles on his back and he’s rocking them gently, like Remus is an unruly newborn who doesn’t know a thing about mortality yet.

“Shh,” Dee whispers, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Remus feels like he’s falling again even though he’s safely in Dee’s arms. The ground is coming isn’t it? And if he opens his eyes it will be there and Remus will go splat and there will be no more do-overs.

The possibilities are so big, so large, so many. And everything has an impact. Cause and Effect and everyone ends up dead in the end. Roman and a silver sedan, Dee riddled with a bunch of bullet holes, Logan and a cracked head in an unlabeled open manhole-- it could happen at any moment, every moment, this moment.

Remus’s visions are so large and he’s so small and every time he makes a choice it feels a bit like he’s setting this life up for a tragedy. It wouldn’t take much for the comic forces in the universe to crush him like an ant, or a worm or a spider or an African egg eating snake.

“We’re okay,” Dee says, wiping away a tear from Remus’s eyes. “We’re going to be okay, Remus.”

He talks like he’s the one with the ability to see the future. Or that he’s going to fight every god there is until they are. And there’s a part of Remus that believes him.

It sounds like a promise, like a challenge, like Dee is waiting for Remus to ask him how he knows and Remus doesn’t have the guts to actually do it. Always a coward. After all, when things get bad, Remus runs, doesn’t he? Away from home, out of the car, into his mind.

The room around them turns golden and orange and then purple and grey and Dee makes no movement to change where they are curled up on the floor of a hotel room. The carpet is hell but Dee keeps rocking them and hums until Remus’s tears dry up and he himself forgets how to push air out his nose.

Somehow throughout all of this the TV is still on, playing the news or a rerun of the news from earlier, but it feels muted from the world: something in the background, something not real, something that can’t ever touch them.

“Do you feel better now?” Dee asks softly.

Remus groans, “headache.”

Dee nods absently. He presses a kiss to Remus' forehead, “I have some ibuprofen.”

“Won’t work,” Remus presses his nose into Dee’s collarbone, “Medication doesn’t do shit for me. Never has.”

“Then we need to get something to eat,” Dee says subdued.

“Ice cream for dinner?” Remus suggests.

“You need a protein.”

“What if I put hot sauce on it? And chili peppers.”

“Those are not proteins, dear.” There’s a ghost of a smile on Dee’s face, which isn’t much, but considering how crappy both of them feel, Remus counts it as a win. He breathes in and listens to Dee’s steady heartbeat.

“Dear” and “Darling” make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. It sounds so eloquent coming from Dee, so natural and easy. One of Dee’s hands trail up Remus’s back and twist around the curls at the base of his hairline. Remus thinks he wouldn’t mind staying like this forever.

“--Secretary of Defense, Dragana Witchall, made this announcement this afternoon regarding the influx of beings with so called “super powers”--”

“Wait what,” Dee says, shifting them to the side to get a better look at the screen. Remus follows his gaze by proxy. On it is a recording of a lady who matches Janus in terms of dressing immaculately: a plum striped pantsuit and with a white shirt underneath and no jewelry. Her blonde hair is pinned back in the same professional bun that just about every no-nonsense teacher Remus ever had had. She looks about three seconds away from slapping every reporters’ hands with a ruler and giving them detention for questioning her.

Remus hasn’t ever seen her before. He thinks he would remember a face like that.

“Emergency legislation,” She says, and Remus gets chills, “Has been put in place to ensure the safety of all beings living in America.”

“Oh no,” Janus says.

“Starting immediately, under the implications of the Next Evolution Act, all beings with discernible inhumane abilities will be required by law to register their abilities with the Federal Bureau of Evolution (FBE). While this is to protect all citizens from possible catastrophic danger, we have been assured that identities of those with such power will be handled with the utmost professionalism and confidentiality. Information about locations for registration will be shared in a few moments. We ask that people seek out these locations as soon as possible and will implement incarceration for an indeterminate amount of time for those who refuse to cooperate with the FBE. In the meantime, we encourage all citizens to remain calm and look to the future with hope.

“Now, here with a few words, is Princeps, who has graciously agreed to partner with the American Government--”

The rest is drowned out by the cheering of the reporters as the self acclaimed superhero steps into the screen, onto the stage, up to the podium and everyone surges forward.

Remus feels sick looking at it: the cheery smile of the man in white with a red plastered face mask and eyes that seem to stare into his soul, the way he takes control of the podium with ease and fluidity, the way that the camera bobbles trying to get closer. Princeps-- Prince-- whoever he is soaks in the chaos of the questions being thrown at him and revels in it.

Dee’s nails prick into Remus’s back.

“They can’t do that,” he says.

“I think they just did,” Remus says, maybe laughing, and wondering how much the government is paying the guy on stage to stand there. He doesn’t look real. He looks like someone’s fantasy, a pipe dream, a day dream created to placate the undercurrents of terror. Remus gets the urge to throw something at him, just to see if Princey boy here would dissipate into smoke like a dream too.

“No, Remus,” Dee says, fixing him with horrified gaze, “They- They cannot be allowed to do this. Forcing people to register with the government-- You know what that is right? They’ll sit you done in a windowless room and ask you how much you love your country. Enough to die for it? Enough to put your life on the line for it? And then they’ll turn you into a human weapon. And that’s just if you say yes automatically.”

“What if I say no?”

“Then they’ll tell you to fill out this form with your home address and let go you on your way and about two weeks later you’re going to be killed in a drunk driving accident.” Dee snarls between his fangs, “Or-- Or one of your family members will go mysteriously missing, okay? And they’ll show up on your doorstep and ask again. And even if that doesn’t happen, they’ll be some asshat who hacks the database or sneaks into the Headquarters and gets his hands on even a portion of the list and releases it and people will die from prejudices. This is bad.”

Remus stiffens.

Princeps is still on TV talking animatedly to the reporters who hang on his every word. “As I was saying, with the help of the FBE, I managed to gain control of my abilities, which otherwise could have hurt those around me. In fact the FBE helped all of my team--”

“Excuse me, Prince! ” A reporter interrupts, “Did you say Team?”

The figure on screen laughs brightly; Remus thinks it the most irritating sound he’s ever heard even if he can’t pinpoint why exactly.

“Yes, fair maiden! I do have a team! They are the most wonderful people I have ever had the pleasure to meet, Although I started my journey alone, I’m proud to call them my friends. We’re few in numbers now, but hopefully with time and patience, more brave souls will step forward to help us protect our homes and the lives of the people we love--”

Remus is pleased that both him and Dee fake gag at the same time.

“--That being said, each of us have agreed to partner up and help the FBE with their registration. I, myself, and my partner will be heading out to the West Coast right after this and we’ll be in the Portland area for most of the week for any of you fine folk who may want autographs.” He flashes a brilliant, blinding smile at the camera.

“Portland,” Remus repeats. “Isn’t that where we are?”

Dee has a look on his face and Remus knows that look. Very well in fact. It’s haunted his favorite memories in the past several months: the moments before he’s picked a mark, moments before he nudges Remus in the side, the moments before they start planning on how to do something illegal.

Its based on trust: Remus will find them the future that works, Dee will listen without hesitation and they’ll get out together.

Dee shifts and wiggles a bit, sticking a hand in his pocket and comes back with a coin, the purple Barney from the Baskillisk Casino where they met that had wandered off the floor in Remus’s pocket. He rolls it between his fingers.

“Are you...can you…?” He asks.

“Still see the future?” Remus finishes.

“Without it hurting you.” De says, “Because it's a definite no if you’re gonna end up in a pool of your own blood like that again. I’d rather not know things than not have you here next to me.”

Remus is quiet, which is unlike him. The TV switches to a commercial break about toothpaste or something and the screen illuminates Dee’s very kissable lips very nicely.

“Tell you what,” Dee says, shakily, “Heads, we do something about it. Probably end up taking out an entire new branch of government and putting some superheroes in the hospital. And possibly become the most wanted men on the Earth. Tails, we ignore it until we can’t.”

He swallows. Then he balances the coin on his thumb. In the dark of the room Remus can’t even tell which size is which.

--It flings up into the air with an impressive height, flipping eight times by its pinnacle and another eleven by the time it comes down on the floor and bounces into another arc, another flip, two, three. And Remus thinks that “supposed to be” can go fuck itself, because he doesn’t care what should and shouldn’t happen all of a sudden.--

It flings up into the air with an impressive height, flipping eight times by its pinnacle and another eleven by the time it comes down right into Remus’s palm.

“What do you know,” Remus says, innocently as it comes. “It landed on Heads."

[Chapter 6]

#Deja vu AU #Demus #Janus Sanders #Remus Sanders #tw:suicide #tw: blood #KISS KISS KISS KISS #look I was so excited to write this kiss scene alright #Epic level of foreshadowing here #Guess whos gonna show up in the next chapter guys #the dragon witch #roman sanders #the Plot emerges!#finally!!#sanders sides

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chipsfics · 4 years ago

Text

Part 1 - Introduction/Invitation

Part one of my currently-unnamed Inanimate Insanity fanfiction :)! Feat. Tissues and Yinyang. Some shipping but not a whole lot ;)

Rated: PG (A few heavy themes)

Hope you enjoy and much more to come !! :D

~~~~

Unlike Tissues, Yinyang knew he was going to be eliminated. Yin did, at least. He figured after a certain amount of time, the viewers just saw him as... Annoying. He had used up his entertainment value- Inanimate Insanity had packaged and squeezed dry his "quirks" of any and all comedy until they were just problems again. He was sure his other half knew elimination was at least a possibility- He was probably too preoccupied with his own thoughts, which sometimes blended together with Yin's. A lot of... "Everyone here hates me," and "I hate everyone here." Seemed like the situation was stressing them both out.

Weeks later, After they were all freed from the closet, Yinyang watched the episode where he was eliminated. Yinyang cried, not because he lost, but something kind of got tangled in his brain watching the way he acted. He was grinding his teeth watching the playback, Yang holding back tears and Yin letting them flow freely. If only, if only, if only. Needless to say, he didn't really remember a lot about what happened cooped up in that tiny closet. He mostly hid in the corner and tried not to grind his teeth down to his gums. Tissues, on the other hand, barely knew what was going on. One place to another, off a plane, rushing from iceberg to dodgeball court, grass field to bleachers- Next thing he knew he sneezed himself through a portal and ended up cooped up in a closet. Once the dizzy feeling cleared and he ended up face down, alone, in an empty closet with a locked door- One thing was abundantly clear: He lost. As usual. When another contestant stepped through the portal, the relief he felt was overwhelming- and as the closet filled up with eliminated contestants, the sense of relief he felt was replaced by self loathing and shame- Everyone else pretty much all hated him. As usual.

When they finally got a breath of fresh air, space to move around, personal rooms and even a breakfast juice bar- After everyone who came in contact with him was thoroughly sprayed down by Soap, nobody hated him anymore. They just didn't talk to him. Although, when he walked in the hallway, Soap would follow a safe distance behind him and clean where he last stepped with disinfectant. That didn't really help his self-esteem.

One quiet afternoon, everyone was still trying to settle into their new (but much nicer) living situations, Tissues got paired with the roommate who hated him the most. One Trophy horseplay, who was the one who stomped his face in more than a couple times while stuck in the closet. Of course, due to the technological advancements of melife, Mephone brought him back immediately after he got the death notification- bzz-ding, Tissues died again, to Trophy's frustration. Living with Trophy, he tried to keep all of his stuff in one corner- And he was kind of being shoved over by Trophy's ever-growing collection of sports equipment. Apparently he had nowhere to put it except for cluttering up their shared bedroom. He didn't have much things anyway- and he spent most of his time in the front game room. Tissues, Yinyang, and a few wanderers in and out every day in that same room, that same dinky game system, the same 4 outdated platforming games. He didn't remember the names of those old things, and he wasn't great at them anyway- It'd surprise you, but he didn't have the best hand-eye-coordination.

Yinyang was also bad at them. He'd argue and curse and throw the controller and tug at the wires, Tissues would follow slowly behind him in co-op play. It was fun to play with someone who had the same skill level as he did, and it seemed like Yinyang had mellowed out a little from his appearance on the show- Having a bit more freedom and alone time seemed to make Yang calm down and Yin become cheerier and more friendly. If Tissues could say one Inanimate Insanity contestant was his friend- It was Yinyang. They had something big and terrifying in common- They were both freaks. The unlovable tend to find a way to love each other.

~~~~

Yaaaawn. Tissues stretched and looked at the clock- 11:30, about 3 hours earlier than when he usually woke up. He wiped the drool off his face, got up and feverishly brushed his teeth. He realized the breakfast bar was still open for another 30 minutes- More like 25 now that he'd dragged himself out of bed. OJ wasn't the world's most attentive hotel owner, but the breakfast bar seemed like something he was passionate about. There were rumors that he refilled the cereal dispensers by himself and doesn't let anyone else do it. Soap always threw a fit when someone else did the chores for her, although she seemed to have a quiet respect for OJ's breakfast bar. Tissues took the elevator down- He didn't trust himself to go down the stairs because of his vertigo. Lo and behold, someone else bumped into his hand reaching for the down arrow. It was Yinyang!

"O-oh, go ahead, you first," Tissues said bashfully.

"No, you first!" Yin chirped. "I assume we're both going down?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna try and catch the last wave of breakfast, guyse. I'm not usually up this... SNIFF. Early," Tissues said, and jammed his finger into the down button, which started to glow a faint yellow.

"Wait, is the free breakfast thing still open?" Yinyang said, "The one where you can make waffles with the little do-it-yourself waffle iron?"

"Is that what that is? I thought it was just a weird smoothie dispenser. I thought the stuff that came out of it tasted like waffle batter," He sniffed.

Yinyang laughed. Tissues would have been peeved, but it didn't seem like Yinyang was laughing AT him. That, or just the fact that his laugh was crisp and clear as a ringing bell. Tissues didn't think he heard him genuinely laugh a whole ton of times. It was nice.

As they waited for the elevator to come up, Tissues noticed one of Yinyang's eyes blinking and drooping. Yang's side seemed to be sleepier than Yin's- His body lagging to one side until he had to jerk back into a standing position. Was it possible for one half to fall asleep and the other half to stay awake? DING. Tissues' train of thoughts was interrupted by the elevator door sliding open. They stepped in, and for the entire ride down Tissues fought as hard as he could not to sneeze- In a closed place like an elevator, that could be very annoying. More annoying than usual. The elevator ride was mostly silent and awkward- It seemed that Yang almost tried to fight on what button to press, but he was too tired and hungry to cause any trouble this early. It was a Saturday after all, the slowest days in the hotel, and once they made it downstairs to the breakfast bar, there didn't seem to be many contestants looking for something to eat so late. Tissues grabbed a paper plate and put a blueberry muffin on it, and got a small paper cup of orange juice. He noticed Yin and Yang were having some sort of quiet argument about what to get for a drink. Tissues couldn't help but overhear-

"Coffee." Yang spoke in a harsh whisper. "Not today, Water." Yin replied. "Coffee." "Juice, then." "Ok, Fine." "Apple juice." "I want orange." "Not today. Apple Juice feels more..." "Pure?" "Yeah." "Bull." "Let's just get our food, I'm too tired to argue." "..." "..." "Me too."

Tissues seemed distracted, until Yinyang moved down the line and bumped him further down. He looked away, face flushed, and moved to the couch, flicking on the TV- He felt like he had just intruded on Yinyang's privacy, but Yinyang didn't seem to care. He'd grabbed apple juice and a pastry of some kind, filled with cream cheese. Yinyang and Tissues ate together, Tissues sitting on the carpet and Yinyang on the couch close by, both staring at the gameshow program that was playing on TV- something that aired often, it was starting to get old. That and the fact that the episodes are hard to tell apart. Same host every time, same backdrop, same formula. Because of this, Tissues' mind couldn't help but wander, and so did his eyes. Yinyang was focused intently on the tv, one hand, Yin's, tapping the sides of the paper cup and the other, Yang's, lifting the pastry to his mouth and taking a bite. They seemed to have figured out a good way to eat without arguing.

"So," Tissues said, breaking the silence.

"Yes?" Yin said politely.

"Can i sit next to you guyse?" Tissues asked. Yinyang looked a bit puzzled.

"Sure. Why not?" Yinyang said, "Just try not to get any of your germs on me." Yang grumbled. Yin pinched his arm. "Don't be rude," Yang growled, but once Tissues got up and hopped up onto the couch cushion next to him, Yang seemed to have forgotten about it. Tissues was so short he had to put in a lot of effort to get onto the couch- It was almost comical. Because of that, he preferred to sit on the ground. People seemed to prefer him down there anyway. It was kind of nice, up there, though, and honestly the only thing he felt different was... More comfortable, and taller. It was nice. He hadn't even noticed the TV program changing from the game show to an ad break- some kind of infomercial on chairs.

"Sooo.... Do you want to go and check out the pool today? I've heard that there's like, complimentary towels. I haven't actually been there yet," Tissues said.

"Are you... asking us to hang out with you?" Yinyang said curiously.

"Well sure," Tissues smiled. "We're friends, right?"

"Umm..." Yinyang's face flushed a bright red. "Of course!" Yin chimed.

"Whatever." Yang added, clenching his jaw and slightly baring his sharp teeth.

"I just didn't wanna show up alone. Can you swim?" He asked. Yinyang looked away.

"Not really," He said, embarrassed. "It takes a lot of coordination, and Yin hates listening." Yang said aggresively. Yin glared at his other half.

"Ohhh thats cool. I can't either," Tissues replied. "I was just planning on sitting by the side. Maybe putting my feet in- Its just nice to have like... uhh. SNIFF. Change of scenery... I like the chlorine smell."

"Well that sounds nice!" Yinyang said. "But we need to go back to our room first, Right?" Yang sounded like he was directing the question less towards Tissues and more towards Yin.

"Oh. Well that's ok. I'm here all day," Tissues said, pulling his mouth into a goofy half-smile. Yinyang finished off his apple juice and got up, silently turned and smiled towards Tissues, and walked away. Tissues wondered what he was thinking about.

~~~~

#inanimate insanity #fanfiction #ii #ii2 #fanfic #yinyang #tissues #tissyang #tissuyang #yissues

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years ago

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Shining Just Like Diamonds Do

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker) Rating: General (G) Word Count: 5k Notes: This gem started after I saw this post here. The idea of Peter being the person who hid an engagement ring in plain sight was too hard to pass up. Thanks to @goindownshipping & @starkerscoop for the final push in the right direction. Warnings: There aren’t any - this madness is pure fluffy goodness. Summary:

Peter buys an engagement ring on a whim - he’s ready for the next step, but lacks a plan. Instead of wasting brain bytes worrying about it, Peter makes a challenge out of it instead. The ‘how many ways can I hide a ring in plain sight’ game becomes a thing.

Or - Tony is oblivious and Peter takes advantage of it to be the cutest sneak out there.

Check out more of my writing here and read this story on AO3 here

----

They met at a conference.

Peter loved getting to shed his professor title and get into the nitty gritty of engineering and the technological advances being made. In another life, he took a different route and didn’t end up in a classroom – but in this life, Peter got to escape from it to play with all of the cool tech in the name of continuing education.

That year, however, Peter was tasked as a keynote speaker for the nanobyte technology research he started to work on when Wakanda opened up its borders a few years prior. Being in direct contact with the brilliant Princess Shuri gave him lots of insight and many tangible examples of the technology – her brother’s Black Panther suit design amongst them. He loved his research and felt more than prepared to present upon it. Especially at such a big wig conference like the International Conference on Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering – all of the monumental names in the industry would be there.

It wasn’t often that Peter got to leave New York during the school year, so he relished the train ride into Boston without pulling his work laptop out once during the journey. He practiced his talk so many times that he’d been doing it in his sleep for the past few nights. Any more rehearsal seemed like overkill. Relaxing into the 1st class seat he splurged for instead, Peter took a long sip of the complimentary red wine. The welcome banquet started right around the time his train got in – so the harder stuff would need to wait.

When he got to the hotel, Peter made a quick pit-stop in his room to drop off his bag and change out of the suit trousers he started the day in. He bought a brand-new pair of black slacks for the occasion and planned to wear them to their fullest. Splashing some water on his face and undoing the first couple of buttons of his shirt, Peter slung his badge around his neck and headed down to the meeting room the banquet was in.

His sensitivity to crowds never seemed to dull over the years – as a 29-year-old, Peter should’ve been able to control the way too much stimulus affected him. That was not a success he could claim, however. It took several minutes to blend into the crowd and by the time he calmed down enough to fit into it, the line for the bar wasn’t even worth standing in.

He looked around to see if any of his fellow academics were in attendance and was stopped by a soft touch to his elbow. “Dr. Parker, it’s nice to see you here.” Natasha Romanov, the beautiful red head with a mouth like poison and wit so sharp, stood before him, a soft smile on her face. Peter shot her a swift look of gratitude, his own smile shaping his lips.

“We were research partners for 3 years, Nat – you can call me Peter,” he replied easily, his hand finding hers for a brisk shake. They did great work together during their time at Columbia – she specialized in Aeronautical and him in Mechanical – they were the perfect team when GE Aviation came knocking with an idea of how to minimize fuel costs down to the creation of the plane – parts and pieces included. The journey to his doctoral degree was a fun one, the many hours of work made tolerable by the woman in front of him.

“You’re right. The title never does get old, though – the blood, sweat, and tears to get it were pretty memorable, too.” Natasha smirked at him, her blood-red lips enhancing the look. “I saw your name on the itinerary – nanobyte technology, right?”

Not a single bit surprised by her knowledge, Peter nodded excitedly. “Correct. They even gave me the prime-time spot tomorrow night.” He grinned widely, his eyes lighting up at the look of excitement that crossed her face.

“You’re on your way up, Peter. I’m actually glad I caught you, there’s someone I’d like for you to meet,” Natasha said, her eyes moving past his face and over his shoulder. Trying not to look too stupid doing it, Peter turned slightly, his eyes settling on the beautiful brain that was Tony Stark. He turned back around and suddenly berated his choice of no tie – what kind of professional came to a dinner without a tie? The mini freak out ate up his time to make up an excuse, Nat was already calling the man over.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Peter kept his eyes down until he felt Nat’s elbow press against his arm. “Tony, I want you to meet a former colleague of mine, Peter Parker. Peter, this is Tony Stark,” Natasha announced, her eyes burning into his.

Peter took a quick breath in, his hand slipping out between them in what he hoped was a casual manner. “Tony, it’s great to meet you,” Peter decided on, his eyes finally focusing on the other man. As expected, the tech guru was dressed in a fine 3-piece suit – the shirt and waistcoat both black to enhance the darkness of the ensemble. His pale skin balanced everything out – the well-kept facial hair adding a new and admittedly sexy element to the whole thing. It wasn’t enough to be incredibly intelligent, Tony Stark got to own the obnoxiously sexy title, too.

Tony grabbed his hand and gave it a firm shake – the callouses on his fingers way more developed than Peter expected them to be. He knew that Tony was the brain behind everything that Stark Industries created – Peter wasn’t aware that carried over to creation, too. It made sense, though – what sort of brain didn’t want to have their hands all over the thing stuck in their head? They locked eyes and something just clicked. Whatever it was, Peter couldn’t keep his mind off of it from that second on.

“Nice to meet you, Peter Parker. I saw your name in the keynote spot tomorrow night. I can’t wait to hear more about the nanobyte tech. I’ve been trying to get face time with King T’chala for years – he’s been surprisingly fussy,” Tony said in reply, his mouth moving gracefully through some of the petulant words coming out of his mouth.

It took everything in him to stop the spread of an amused smile – the only evidence of his true feelings reflected in the glow of his eyes. The similar look in Tony’s made him want to laugh even more. “He’s particular, that’s all. I flew out there last summer and met with Princess Shuri, the king’s sister – she’s smarter than you and I put together.”

As if those were the magic words, Peter and Tony spent most of the next couple of hours talking about Wakanda and it’s many attributes, the nanobytes and the technological advancements they could make, and most importantly – how much they were looking forward to playing with the new tech at the booths the next day. Peter was surprised by how nerdy Tony truly was, the man completely enraptured by the topic of particle physics and the latest coding programs being taught to the up and coming engineers of the future.

When the end of the function was upon them, Peter didn’t think twice about accepting the offer of a drink at the bar in the hotel. He felt a certain way and didn’t want it to end – whatever it actually was. A few of the others had the same idea and soon, there were many groups scattered around the bar – the conversation going like there was never a break in it to transfer venues.

A warm hand on his knee when they sat down behind the bar had Peter looking up, a shy smile overtaking his face. Tony looked at him for a moment, then returned the look – the darkness in his eyes highlighted by the low light they were sitting in. “What’s your poison?” Tony asked, his hand staying exactly where it was, the long fingers now cupping his patella.

“I’ll have a whiskey neat,” Peter answered immediately, his own hand landing on top of Tony’s. It wasn’t normal, the freedom he was giving himself in that moment. At the same time, it felt good to be a little reckless – he genuinely liked the things he was learning and wanted to at least see where getting to know Tony went. The fact that the older man turned his hand over and let their fingers slide together sent a tingle down his spine – the warmth of it sitting in his lower back, starting the pool of heat there with a jolt.

Shooting him a smile, Tony flagged down the bar tender and order their drinks – the efficiency in which he did it more than impressive. Tony pulled his credit card out to start the tab, the sharpness of the look sent in Peter’s direction enough for him to put his hand down and stop the reach for his own wallet.

“Tell me more about you, Pete – there’s got to be stuff outside the nanobytes,” Tony said, breaking the comfortable silence they found themselves in.

“There is a lot of stuff outside of nanobytes. I have a beautiful golden retriever named Marla – she’s an agility dog, so we spend a lot of time at the training complex. I’m a New York native, so I spend a lot of time heading to the little hidden gems I’ve found over the years – food spots and little record stores. My most hidden talent, though – is caricature.” Peter paused then, his eyes turning to take in Tony’s reaction.

It was well worth it, too – Tony’s eyes bulged, his cheeks crinkled at the corners – his smile wide. “Caricature? There’s got to be a story behind that,” Tony muttered through a laugh, the free hand that was fiddling with the rim of his glass coming up to swipe at the rogue laugh-tear threatening to spill from his eyes.

“I spent every summer of my undergraduate college years working at Coney Island. The research assistant job I had on campus didn’t pay enough to make rent – so I rode out to the island on the days I didn’t work in the lab to draw families and couples in the silliest fashion I could.” Peter smiled at the memory, his chest warm from the recollection and the alcohol settling in his system. “What about you? Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist – that’s quite the resume.”

A swift feeling of satisfaction rolled over him when the skin of Tony’s cheeks and neck colored, the pale skin there taking on a reddish hue – the blush absolutely divine. “And exaggerated. I’m a pretty big nerd that gets to tinker for a living. The playboy lifestyle went out the window a long time ago,” Tony replied, his eyes moving down to the lock of their hands still resting lightly against Peter’s leg. “I would’ve taken you to bed by now if it hadn’t.”

Though Peter didn’t comment on Tony’s admission, the fact remained between them for the rest of the night. He couldn’t deny that the very thought passed across his own mind a time or two throughout the conversation, and when they headed back to their rooms, Peter gave Tony the go ahead. Yet, he wasn’t surprised by the fact that Tony didn’t take it – his denial seemed to be more about the principal of it than anything else.

Not wanting to leave himself hanging, Peter let his hands linger on Tony’s sides when the older man pulled him in for a hug. Peter dug his fingers into Tony’s trim flanks, the grip just enough to keep Tony exactly where he was. Leaning in, Peter was not disappointed when Tony took the remaining space and met him in the briefest of kisses. The remnants of expensive whiskey and something that could only be classified as Tony sat on his lip, the taste a constant reminder of what a little more time and effort possibly held for him.

----

4 years later, Peter still liked to remember the hurried blow job Tony gave him five minutes after his speech the next night, the obscenity of 2 highly sought-after professionals locked in a bathroom stall together making the moment even more powerful. Tony wasn’t subtle in the way he practically dragged Peter with him towards the men’s room, his eyes were completely overtaken by dark pupils, a sharp look of lust there for anyone to see. Tony muttered endlessly about Peter’s brain and sucked him down with a skill that he still couldn’t describe.

The last night of the conference was spent in the confines of Tony’s room and the next day in the back of the private car that Tony ushered him into without asking about the train tickets that Peter willingly let go to waste. Happy, who took his bag with a knowing look and a stiff nod, turned up the music and made no noise for the rest of the drive from Boston back into the city.

It was easy to get lost in Tony after that. He appreciated Peter’s work and genuinely wanted to help in whatever way he could. Peter tested that theory out and prompted Tony to come and talk with all 5 sections of his coding class – he not only showed up but put on an amazing presentation for the kids that were already looking up at him with dreamy eyes. By the end of the 5th one, Peter was pretty over the moon, too. Tony’s comment about Peter’s brain made a lot of sense after seeing his lover in action – there was something about a handsome man with expertise that really got him going.

In the same way their brains were compatible, their interests lined up, too. Tony was adamant that they take a weekly trip to Coney Island when it was possible and joined Peter for his random walks around the city – the new food places all of the sudden taking on a different look after introducing his favorite person to them. Peter found himself making room for Tony in his life without much of a thought – there wasn’t any reason not to. Since the day they met, they were inseparable.

Which quickly became apparent when Tony asked him to move in before they were together a whole year. Peter was flipping his famous candied bacon with a pair of tongs when Tony saddled up next to him, a peculiar look on his face. “Why don’t you move in? I like having you here, you look good exactly where you are – you’re always over. I can get a key made right now,” Tony babbled, his affinity for speaking while all the words were ripe on his tongue a thing Peter loved the most about him.

The grin that overtook his face hurt a little, the muscles in his cheeks not ready for the intensity of it. “I could get behind that.” Peter spoke nonchalantly, but his hands were shaking, the move obvious in the quake of the tongs in his hands. It would be the perfect time to admit that he was thinking the same thing – he craved the coziness of Tony’s penthouse when he wasn’t around, the man’s presence engrained in every inch of the place.

Peter spent most of his adult years on his own with very little interest in accumulating things, so the transition into the penthouse was pretty seamless – it took them 2 trips across the city to get all of his stuff and another few hours to get it all adjusted into the nooks and crannies that seemed to be there waiting for Peter. Christening every square inch of the place was the best part – Tony took great joy in introducing him to all the different surfaces that Peter looked absolutely divine bent over and pressed against.

Happiness that flowed so easily between them made the rest of that 1st year together fly by. As did their 2nd, 3rd, and 4th years together – May always told him not to blink; and now he understood why. Without really knowing it, or giving time his permission to do so, life with Tony sped by. There was so much contentment and ease in their relationship that dates didn’t seem to matter – being with Tony every day felt like something to celebrate. The thought might be cheesy, but the genuine nature of it reigned supreme – Peter didn’t mind the fluff when it came with a Tony attached.

Which is why Peter didn’t feel a single bit odd wandering into a a jewelry store after a rare afternoon without his other half. Despite loving Peter for everything he was, Tony still didn’t like to spend an abundance of time with May and sent him on his own to the bi-weekly lunches his aunt still insisted upon. Though telling Tony was out of the question, Peter cherished the separation – it was nice to have a reason to miss his partner in crime. Shaking his head of the thought, Peter sucked in a deep breath when he was immediately tracked down by one of the workers in the store – his presence a possible commission for whoever got to him first.

Like all things with Tony, Peter didn’t struggle to find the perfect ring for his boyfriend. In the years of knowing him, Peter knew that Tony wore lots of black to contrast his pale complexion. The rich darkness of the tungsten of the simple band would look so good against the creamy white porcelain of Tony’s skin. Despite the dagger of a price, Peter instinctually knew it was the marker Tony deserved – the ring a simplistic, yet complex beauty; not unlike the man himself.

And though he found the perfect ring, Peter never actually meant to slap down the black credit card he carried in his pocket for impulse purchases such as that very one. His eyes bulged with reluctant acceptance at the price, long fingers wrapped delicately around the bag the woman behind the counter slipped the box into, and when he walked into the street, Peter smiled to himself – he didn’t walk into that building with a plan, and still didn’t have one; but, he was one step closer to having Tony Stark as a permanent fixture in his life for all the years to come.

Peter assumed an idea of how to propose to Tony would just pop into his head. When it didn’t in the 20-minute walk back to the office, Peter felt a little miffed. Most things were so simple, especially where Tony was concerned. Yet, a suitable idea didn’t come to him, no matter how hard he thought and willed it into existence. Tony deserved absolute perfection – Peter knew that from the second they met. Striving for anything less in this situation just wouldn’t do.

In an attempt to jumpstart his brain, Peter started carrying the ring box in his pocket. If pre-planning didn’t work, maybe spontaneity would. Trying to force himself into a bubble never worked before – why he ever thought it could for something so important seemed a little silly. Peter worked the best when he was relaxed and stress-free. Proposing felt stressful enough, tacking on a precise plan of attack only added to it.

For the first few days of his plan, Peter worried that Tony might catch on. Not every pair of pants let the box rest peacefully against his leg – the very first day he decided to start carrying it with him, Tony tried to feel him up in the elevator and almost palmed the velvet box instead of his rapidly stiffening erection. A swift move of his hips into Tony’s was the only thing that saved him.

As the days went by, Peter found it easier to keep the secret and quietly delighted at the fact that Tony genuinely didn’t have a clue. The damn thing was right under his nose most of the time – so much so that Peter found himself wanting to test fate even further. If Tony really wasn’t paying attention, Peter wondered how many times he could set the ring out in front of the man without him noticing. Blinking, Peter pulled in a deep breath and let the rightness of that plan settle over him. He wanted creativity and perfection – a little game seemed like the perfect way to achieve both of those things.

His first attempt at it was very minimal. They were sitting in the kitchen preparing dinner together – the whole scene insanely domestic. A rush of want crept up into Peter’s chest and sat there, taunting him to pull the ring box out. He stuffed his hand into his pocket as quietly as he could, the top of the box making the slightest bit of sound when he pulled it open. Looking up, he smiled to himself; Tony was completely occupied, carried away by the oldies rock on the radio and the sizzling warmth on the stove. In the picture, Tony’s hips were swaying, the movement tangible in the blur of his figure.

From there, Peter got a little friskier about it. He took one when they were sitting together on the couch, his back against Tony’s chest, the man’s hair spread out on Peter’s shoulder as they watched TV. The next was in bed later that night, the ring between their bodies while Tony snored obliviously. Peter saved each of the new snaps into their own folder and spent several minutes after taking each one cooing over the cuteness of Tony’s naivety. There weren’t many moments when Tony didn’t know exactly what was going on. Peter allowed himself to revel on the few he crafted.

There were several more encounters of oblivious Tony over the next couple of weeks. Peter planned a picnic and let the box sit in the collection of goodies on the blanket for what seemed like hours before picking it up and storing it in his pocket again. He pulled it out when they were sitting in the drive-thru line at McDonald’s and shared a laugh with the young girl behind the window when Tony went about his business, despite the open box showcasing a shiny black ring right by his face. Peter shot her a wink, the girl’s smile in the photo one of the best mementos of the experience yet.

Just as Peter figured, the perfect opportunity came during one of their many treks out to Coney Island. In the span of the last week, Peter put the actual ring in Tony’s hand while he was sleeping, left the box open on his lab table, and let it sit in Tony’s briefcase all the way from their office into the house. The idea of getting away with his ploy made that finale that much more important. He played with fire enough – it was finally time to make Tony his.

Getting out of Happy’s car, Peter pulled them towards the teacups – Tony’s favorite ride on the island, despite the dizziness it brought them both for the rest of their trip. He wanted Tony disoriented – it was an important part of Peter’s plan finally coming to fruition. Since they were a little earlier than usual, the lines weren’t long, so they were able to ride the cups twice before the idea of waiting became a thing.

Antsy now, Peter pushed through the spin in his head and led Tony over towards his old station. Despite the fact that more than 10 years passed since his job there, artist alley was in the same place – the easels there the same ones he spent hot summer days behind. His eyes met MJ, who made a guest appearance in her old spot for the occasion. Tony knew enough about her to know about their connection, but not enough to put all of the pieces together.

Peter took his seat first, his part of the picture already complete – the rough draft of it sitting on his art counter at home, the design one he sent to MJ that very morning. He sketched himself kneeling on one knee in the mirror twice before it was exactly how he wanted it.

She went through the motions, however – Tony’s nosiness needed to be assuaged while he stood there, waiting impatiently for his turn. Wiggling his eyebrows, Peter relaxed into the chair and let the anticipation build – the ending of his game was quickly spiraling towards them.

It took another 20 minutes for MJ to finish up whatever she drew of Peter and the two of them to switch chairs – Tony’s excited smile making it super difficult not to just drop down on one knee right then and there. Instead, he watched with a huge smile as MJ went about finishing the actual picture she’d be presenting at the end of their little modeling session. Peter crouched down and let his eyes move with the brush of her hand – the sight of the art becoming exactly what he pictured exhilarating, better than the game of chase the last few weeks provided.

With the last flick of her wrist, MJ finished their portrait, her eyes narrowing into the smoothest wink – her immense coolness still a thing after so many years. Grinning in her direction, Peter got up, his heart slamming against his chest. The distraction of MJ’s “do you want to see it?” proved to be enough for Peter to get into position on one knee – Tony’s attention was on the end result completely, his ability to focus so singularly such a gift in that moment.

The soft inhale of air was the only sign Peter got before Tony was looking in his direction, whiskey-smooth eyes glued to him. “Pete?” Tony whispered, his head tilting ever so slightly. The expression never ceased to drive Peter crazy, Tony’s cuteness pulling a soft smile across his own lips.

“I bought this thing weeks ago. When I saw the jeweler on my way home from lunch with May and couldn’t stop myself. It didn’t have any intention of actually getting anything – but here we are. I spent way too many brain bytes wondering how the hell I’d pull off this insane proposal – you’re the personification of all things good and perfect, our first step towards forever needed to be exactly that,” Peter stopped a second, his fingers readjusting the box in his hand. “I finally figured out that there would never be a perfect way, because the perfection is you and the promise of forever, not the proposal or even the question itself.”

As he spoke, Tony moved a little closer to him, his face split into the biggest grin Peter recalled ever seeing. Reaching out, Peter grabbed his hand, their fingers tangling together. “There’s not a better person in this world to spend the rest of my days with. Your brain is marvelous and gives way to the biggest heart I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. Time with you flashes by like the recollection of beautiful memories. It’s exquisite, really – the consuming way love resides in us. There’s no forever without you. Not when my heart beats for you and my thoughts exist in hopes of melding with yours.” Peter looked up; his eyes wet with unshed tears. “Marry me, Tony.”

----

Hours later, Peter spent the entire drive back into the city with his hand covering Tony’s possessively, the coolness of the ring on his finger the best reminder of what just happened. After Tony mumbled a soft ‘yes’, he pulled Peter onto his feet, strong arms wrapping around his neck to pull him into a hard kiss. A soft throat clearing pulled them away from each other a few moments later, MJ’s smiling face meeting them when reality came crashing back. “You two are so sickeningly cute. Congrats, guys,” MJ said, the smile on her face a smooth juxtaposition to her sassy words. Peter shot her a wink, his hands already moving to pull Tony close again.

Between getting the ring on Tony’s finger and making sure their caricature made it off the island with them, Peter got lost in the next couple of hours. They wandered around for a little while before Tony’s demanding hands and tantalizing ideas whispered against Peter’s ear were a little too much. Peter led them back to the Bentley before the idea of the dirty boardwalk underneath them became a good one.

In their fumbling to get to the car, Peter started to describe the whole proposal process to Tony – the whole thing a desperate attempt to distract himself from the boiling attraction that always threatened to consume him. He talked about all of the different places he hid the ring, all the obvious times he let the damn thing rest right under Tony’s nose – each description of the past month’s events making it easier to lean into his fiancé’s warmth without the sizzle of arousal consuming him.

Settling into the back seat of the car, Peter took out his phone, the file of photos opening easily after weeks of navigating to that very spot time and time again. Going through them with Tony made each one feel a bit more special, the other’s reaction and surprise bringing the memory to the forefront, crystalizing its beauty with a whole new coat of affection.

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice. The ring is sitting in the palm of my hand in this one,” Tony remarked, his eyes flashing with amusement as he made the picture bigger, his fingers toggling on the screen. “Oblivious was never a word I’d use to describe myself.” He turned then, his hand finding Peter’s cheek. “Until now. Thank you for this, Pete. The whole thing – it’s gorgeous.”

Their lips met in a soft kiss – the genuine nature of Tony’s words alive in his warmth and attention. Tony’s singular focus on Peter felt like a rainstorm – intense and all consuming, rowdy in the eye of it. The subtle press and pull went on the rest of the drive, Tony’s lips only leaving Peter’s when oxygen became a necessity – they shared breaths when they could and separated mere inches when they couldn’t.

Both knew they didn’t need to rush – that seconds and minutes were no longer a factor.

Forever was an awfully long time.

#starker #ironspider #bobbie writes #shining just like diamonds do

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thdorkmagnet · 5 years ago

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Light of the Sun and Stars Chapter 24: The Spy We (Might) Can Trust

Summary: His whole life Marco Diaz has been raised by monsters, living under the cruel rule of their leader, Toffee. But one day Marco escapes into Mewni where he meets a magical princess and Mewman like himself, who begins teaching him all about her world. Together they will learn about life, love, and the lights within each of them, as they change their world forever.

Chapter Synopsis: The Magic High Commission has sent one of their own to “help out” with Star’s peace commission, but the gang is suspicious and unsure if they can trust the possible spy now living in their midst.

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Disclaimer: Star vs and all its characters are owned by Daron Nefcy and Disney. All rights go to them.

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“Ughh, I can't believe how long this is taking?” Star complained, tapping her foot impatiently as she stood in the waiting room of the Magical Archives, where the Magic High Commission resided. She and Marco had been there for hours after being summoned by the MHC themselves and yet it seemed like they had been all but forgotten by the magical beings as they continued to remain on the bottom floor rather than be welcomed up like they had expected to be. “What are they even doing up there? Seriously, what is soooo much more important than our meeting. I have things to do too, y'know?”

Star looked over at Marco, who sat in one of the waiting chairs, looking around at the room with wide-eyed curiosity. He was still so used to Mewni he couldn't help but gawk anytime he was in a different dimension. But feeling Star's gaze on him, he quickly turned to his girlfriend with an apologetic look. “Sorry, what was that?” he asked.

Star sighed, before taking a seat next to her bestie. “Nothing, I'm just frustrated that their making us wait, is all,” she admitted, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Well they are really busy making sure the entire galaxy is running smoothly,” Marco pointed out and Star smiled at him. Her bestie always found some way to see the good in people and always chose to give them the benefit of the doubt. “Just be patient, I'm sure they'll be done soon.”

“Yeah, you're right, Marco.” She reached out and took hold of his hand. “Thanks for coming with me, it's really nice to have you here,” she said sweetly to him, before leaning over and cuddling his side.

Marco blushed, before saying, “I'm just glad you asked me to come. It's a big deal, meeting the Magic High Commission.” He bit his lip, adding a bit nervously, “ I just hope I don't mess it up.”

Star laughed, before reassuring him, “Don't worry, Marco. I'm sure they'll love you. Just be yourself, okay?”

Marco nodded. “Okay,” he agreed, trying very hard not to let his frantic brain worry and fret over every possible thing that could go wrong during the meeting or try to think of the perfect way to introduce himself. He would just take Star's advice and be himself.

Star, seeing her boyfriend perking up, rose back up from her seat, saying, “I'm just going to go check and see if they're ready for us yet.”

“Then I'll come, too,” Marco said, rising up from his chair and following after the blond.

The two approached the desk of the only security guard in the entire archives, for whatever reason, a yellow deer creature named Shawn. The guard spotted the two approaching and put a wide smile on his face, greeting them pleasantly, “Hello Princess Star, what can I do for you?”

Star smiled back, before saying, “We were just wondering if the Magic High Commission was ready to see us, yet?”

Shawn kept the smile on his face as he replied, “I'm sorry princess, but the commission can't see you right now. They're still busy.”

With what, Star thought angrily, but didn't dare say it out loud. After all, it wasn't Shawn's fault that they were stuck there. So she tried to keep her face neutral as she pressed, “Are you sure? Cause we've been waiting for over three hours now and when they summoned us here we didn't expect to wait this long.”

“I'm sorry, princess,” Shawn apologized, still with the unnerving smile plastered on his face. “But your going to have to continue waiting until the commission is ready to see you. But in the meantime, you are welcome to try one of our complimentary muffins.” The deer gestured over to the basket of muffins sitting on the desk beside him, all of them misshaped and gross looking.

Marco started to reach out a hand to take one, Star quickly grabbing a hold of it to stop him in the most indiscreet way she could think of. The hooded boy eyed her in confusion, but just stood with his hand in hers, as he continued to stare eagerly at the treats.

“That's okay, Shawn. Just please re-inform the commission that we are here and that we're ready to meet with them as soon as they are available,” Star said.

Shawn nodded, saluting the future ruler, saying enthusiastically, “You can count on me, Princess Star.”

“Thank you,” Star replied, before going back over to her seat, the frown returning the second her back was to the guard.

Marco stood where he was for a moment, watching his bestie, before turning back to Shawn. “I'd like one of those muffins, please,” he asked nicely.

“Help yourself,” Shawn said and Marco took one, before going back over to join his girlfriend.

Star watched Marco as he approached and took the seat next to her, cautiously keeping an eye on the muffin in the boy's hands. The hooded boy licked his lips and slowly brought the treat closer to his mouth, until the blond put a hand on his, stopping him before he could take a bite. The boy looked over at her in shock and Star shook her head, telling him, “Marco, trust me on this, you don't want to eat that.”

“Why?” Marco asked.

“Well according to the rumors, the last person who ate one of those ended up with food poisoning and couldn't hold food down for a week. It was not pretty,” Star whispered and Marco's eyes widened in fear. He looked around for a place to stash the muffin until deciding to hide it in the pocket of his hoodie, keeping an eye on Shawn in case he looked that way. He didn't want to hurt the guard's feelings, since he had been the one who had asked for one in the first place, after all.

Once he was done storing the inedible snack away until he could throw it away later, he sighed in relief and leaned back in his chair, trying to relax while they waited for the commission to give the okay to send them up. “Your Majesty,” a voice suddenly sounded out of nowhere from right beside Marco, causing the hooded teen to scream in fright and bolt upright in his chair once more, nearly tipping the whole thing over. Star instinctively grabbed onto her boyfriend by the back of his hood, making sure he didn't tumble to the floor, before pulling him back into his seat.

Once Marco was sitting properly in the seat once again, both Star and Marco looked beside them to see Shawn staring at them with a wide, but somehow emotionless smile, which both found quite unnerving.

“Wait, how did you-” Marco started to say, looking over to the desk he had just seen the guard sitting at, then back to the figure now standing beside him.

“Sorry about that, didn't mean to startle you,” Shawn said impassively, the smile never leaving and his unblinking gaze never shifting away from the two. The hooded boy continued to gaze back and forth in confusion trying to figure out how this deer man had moved so fast without them noticing.

Star, on the other hand, knew to dismiss this weird behavior to save herself from a headache, instead calmly telling him, “That's okay, no harm done. Right Marco?”

The blond looked over to her boyfriend who still looked quite puzzled but was quickly giving up on an explanation he knew he wasn't going to get. “Uhh, right.”

“What were you going to tell us?” Star asked, hoping it was good news.

“The Magic High Commission is ready to see you, now,” Shawn said around his plastered on grin, causing Star and Marco to gasp in excitement and jump out of their seats, Star even exclaiming, “Finally!”

The two ran toward the elevator, until Shawn suddenly held a hand up in front of them, stopping them in their tracks. “Hold on a moment, please,” he said. “First you'll need to get through security check-up.”

Star and Marco turned to the seats behind them, which were now empty before looking back at Shawn, who had somehow gotten in front of them. “How do you keep doing that?” Marco asked and Shawn gave him a baffled look.

“Do what?”

Marco opened his mouth to reply, but seeing how perplexed Shawn seemed, instead simply shook his head, saying hesitantly, “N-Never mind.”

“Okay then,” Shawn said, in a very chipper voice, as he pulled out a clipboard from seemingly nowhere. “Now, are either of you carrying any magical items or contraband.” This was when Star and Marco noticed the sign on the floor, stating, 'No magic beyond this point.'

So the two decided to cooperate, Marco pointed at Star, who raised one hand and held out her wand for Shawn to see with her other. “Um, just my wand,” she said slowly.

Shawn nodded, writing something down on the clipboard. He looked back up to Star telling her nicely, “I'll need you to leave that here.” He pointed over to where a box suddenly appeared, filled with strange magical items of all shapes and sizes. She hesitated, feeling a little unsure about leaving the most prized heirloom in Mewni and the most important possession of her family's legacy to be left with some strange deer-man. But, seeing no other alternative, decided to obey.

“All right,” Star agreed, looking into the box, trying to find the best place to leave it, not wanting it to get damaged by any of the other magical items while it was left in there. Finally, she set it down gently next to a strange bell-looking thing, which gleamed with magical energy itself, but otherwise looked relatively harmless.

“Now, I just need you to step through, please,” Shawn continued, still looking down at his clipboard as he waited for Star and Marco to walk through a magical detection gate that again hadn't been there a moment before. Marco looked at the glowing and blinking doorway with uncertainty, before shifting his gaze to Star, his eyes cutely pleading with her not to make him pass through alone. Star smiled before taking his hand, leading her bestie through the gate, right by her side.

Marco closed his eyes as they passed through and squeezed Star's hand tight, as if expecting it to shock him or harm him in some way, but once they had made it safely to the other side, his brown orbs opened once more, blinking a few times in shock, before the hooded teen's whole body visibly relaxed. He looked sheepishly over at Star, softly saying, “Well, that wasn't so bad.”

Star just smiled at the boy, holding in her laughter, as they continued their way over to the elevators. The blond pressed the “up” button, the two only waiting a few seconds before the doors opened, revealing Shawn, standing inside, that same far-too-wide smile on his face. “Hello, Your Majesty, which floor?” he asked pleasantly.

Star and Marco shared a look, but didn't question how the deer man could possibly be inside the elevator and didn't even bother turning around to check and see if he was somehow still behind them, knowing he couldn't possibly be. So instead the young couple just shrugged, before stepping into the elevator, both saying at the same time, “Top floor, please.”

The ride was a short one, but to Star and Marco it felt like an eternity. The elevator was dead quiet, only the slight hum from the machine providing any form of sound within, which quite upset Star. Seriously, one of the most powerful groups in the multiverse and they couldn't even put some elevator music in their “magical” elevator, something most human elevators would provide. And in the unnerving silence, Star couldn't help but feel her anxiety beginning to plague her some, her heart rate elevating with every floor. After all, this would be the very first time she had even met with the MHC by herself. Sure she had Marco, but every time before she had been accompanying her mom, this time Marco was accompanying her. She had never really even spoke to the commission before as far as she could recall, only Glossaryk and she wasn't sure how much he really counted. Now she was mere seconds away from standing in front of the most powerful group of magical beings in the galaxy. She really wished the ride would just hurry up, before her nerves got the better of her... or Marco for that matter.

If Star was feeling anxious she wasn't sure she could comprehend what her insecure and often shy-natured bestie was feeling. That was when she picked up on Marco's labored breathing, the boy trying to take in deep, shaky breaths to calm himself, but seemed to be failing to do so. She looked over at him and felt her heart clench at how panicked he looked. His face had paled, a look of dread on his scrunched up face, as well as a grimace that seemed to be his attempt to mask his fear and doubt. Sweat was beginning to drip down his face, as his skin started to turn a near sickly color. The poor thing, he looked like he was about to puke.

“Hey,” Star said to him in the most calm voice she could and waited until Marco's nervous gaze fell upon her. “Remember just be you, okay?”

Marco swallowed, the muscles in his face relaxing some and his color returning a little, as he just nodded. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance, but could offer him no more encouragement as a ding in the elevator sounded and the machine lurched slightly in warning, before the doors opened up wide, revealing the large chamber where the Magic High Commission were already sat waiting. Star reluctantly let go of Marco's hand, immediately missing the warmth and strength it provided her.

“Here we go,” Star muttered, taking a single relaxing breath, before putting up the best royal mask possible, as she stepped regally and defiantly into the room. She felt Marco's presence next to her and she felt a mixture of pride and relief that he had followed in after her with zero hesitation. Star made sure to keep her gaze level with at least one member at all times, which was hard to do, since their seats stood several feet above the ground, making it so they literally towered over the two in an intimidating manner.

The two stopped in the center of the room, now practically surrounded on all sides by the MHC. “You wished to meet with us today, Magic High Commission?” Star asked politely.

“Actually, we stated we wished to meet with you,” Heckapoo spoke up, hers arms crossed in front of her chest, giving Star an accusing look. “We never permitted you to bring along a friend.” Everyone's attention shifted to Marco, who flinched but continued to stand tall at Star's side.

“Yes this is a sacred temple, only a select number of people should be permitted inside,” Omintraxous added.

“This isn't just a friend,” Star explained, trying to keep the contempt out of her voice. “This is one of my fellow members, the representative of the Monsters.”

“Ah-ha, so your the one we've been hearing about, huh?” Rubilax suddenly shouted, his voice full of disgust and hate, as he pointed one of his snake hands at the boy accusingly.

Star was about to speak up for her boyfriend, but to her surprise, it was Marco who spoke, his voice sounding much stronger than the blond royal was expecting, “Yeah, that's me. My name's Marco D-”

“Your the one who was raised by Toffee, right!” Rubilax continued, his beady eyes narrowing on the boy's form.

“Well, sorta...” Marco hesitantly responded. “It was more like he let me live, while Buff Frog and the rest of the Monsters actually took care of me.”

“Well I'm onto you, Monster spy,” the magical being continued., slamming a hand down on his seat, menacingly. “And once I catch you in the act, I'm gonna freeze you in a crystal so strong no one will ever be able to get you out.”

Marco shuddered at this, looking quite frightened by the threat and Star quickly jumped to his defense, forgetting who she was in the presence of for a moment. “Hey, don't threaten my boyfriend!” Star shouted up at Rubilax. “He hasn't done anything wrong! In fact, he's the whole reason the Monsters aren't fighting us anymore. If anything, you should be showing him some gratitude instead of treating him like a common criminal!”

“Oh yeah, well-”

“Hey, knock it off, Rubby, or you go in the time-out corner again,” Heckapoo scolded her fellow member, who looked at her in frustration.

“But-”

“I said no,” Heckapoo interrupted again, a finality to her tone. “You can't freeze Star's boyfriend in crystal.” This did finally silence Rubilax from further arguments, though it didn't stop him from grumbling to himself. Marco sighed in relief and Star relaxed as well, her protective rage ending now that she knew Marco was no longer in any danger.

“And as for you,” Heckapoo suddenly said, turning to Star with a look of anger. “We will permit Marco to remain here, but if you speak to any one of us in such a manner again, no matter the reason, both you and your boyfriend will be removed from this dimension. Don't forget, you are only here because we have given you permission to do so, and we can just as easily take that away from you. Am I clear?”

Star felt her anger burst a bit, but held her tongue, reminding herself she needed to remain on their good side. Not to mention she couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated as the magical being continued to glare her way, waiting for a response. “Right, sorry. Won't happen again,” she apologized, bowing her head in submission.

“Good.” Heckapoo said, satisfied that she had gained control back over the meeting. She then cleared her throat and began again, “Now then, the reason we summoned you here, Princess Star Butterfly, as I'm sure you probably guessed, was to discuss your peace commission, whatever it was called.”

Leckmet's bleating suddenly sounded, as every person in the room heard a voice in their head saying, “The Mewman Monster Peace Commission.” Marco looked quite startled by this, looking around him to see where the voice could be coming from, but no one else seemed to notice.

Heckapoo raised a critical eyebrow. “Really that's what your calling it?” she said with a scoff. “Couldn't have come up with any better name?”

Coming from the Magic High Commission, Star thought to herself, but made sure not to let her contempt show. “We just wanted something simple and plain, something people could remember easy,” the blond explained.

“Yeah, okay but, maybe you could have come up with something with a bit more flair. That name just sounds kinda dull.”

Lekmet gave a quick bleat, which managed to snap Heckapoo out of her critiquing, as she returned focus back to the matter at hand. “Oh right, well regardless of the name, your commission is going to be starting up soon, correct?”

Star nodded. “Yes, I already gave you the proper paperwork you requested just the other day,” the blond royal said.

“Well, then that just leaves which of us will be set to join your commission as an act of good faith..” Star mentally scoffed. An act of good faith? Yeah right. More like an act of mistrust. “And after much deliberation,” Heckapoo continued, interrupting Star's thoughts and snapping her back into the moment. “The member we have chosen...” This was it, the success of her commission depended on the council's decision. Everything from this moment on would decide the fate of Mewni. “...is...” Star held her breath and mentally crossed her fingers. Though she wasn't sure why. She was still trying to decide which of them would be the least destructive to join. Who was she hoping she became stuck with? Her eyes scanning the room once, though none of them seemed all that promising of candidates.

Heckapoo clearly disapproved of her commission and the Keeper of the Scissors was sure to do everything in her power to see it destroyed. She could easily make life for Star quite difficult. Star really hoped it wasn't her. Omnitraxus wasn't any better, he too seemed to dislike Monsters and had pretty much said so. She doubted he would be doing anything in the way of helping build trust and good relations with Monster kind. And the farther away Rubilax stayed from Marco the better. That just left Lekmet or...

“...Glossaryk.”

Star reeled back in shock from that line, blinking in confusion. “Glossaryk?” Star asked, making sure she had heard the Keeper of the Scissors correctly.

“Yes, is there a problem with that?” Heckapoo asked crossly, raising an eyebrow.

“No, not at all,” Star quickly piped up, her voice squeaking a little. This almost seemed a little too good to be true, out of all the members Glossaryk was the absolute best possible one. After all, he was the one who had given Star the idea in the first place. He didn't seem to have any affiliation with the other MHC so it was unlikely he would try and ruin Star's plans or report back to them anything condemning. But she couldn't let them see her joy, so immediately hid it, clearing her throat before saying in a much more dignified tone, “We would be honored to accept any of the members of the Magic High Commission.”

“Well that is excellent to hear, because he is ready to get started right away,” Omnitraxus said.

Star's eyes widened at that. “Wait, now?” she questioned. “But the commission isn't even ready yet.”

“Which is why we will be sending him to help you get set up,” Heckapoo clarified, though Star almost heard a hint of a snicker in her tone, which was a little puzzling to Star.

But before she could question the meaning for this further, she felt a tap on her shoulder, before Marco leaned in closer to her. “Who's Glossaryk?” the hooded teen asked in a whisper.

“Why that would be me,” Glossaryk replied, suddenly floating between the young couple and they both reeled back with a shout.

“Where did you come from?” Marco asked in shock.

“I've been sleeping in your hood this whole time,” the small blue man explained and Marco looked suddenly creeped out, as he felt the inside of his hoodie, his face paling as he felt a sticky substance within. “Uhh,” Marco shouted in disgust, looking down on the brown substance on his hand.

“Oh yes, sorry about the mess, I was eating pudding and with all your moving around I wasn't able to keep myself from spilling it.”

“Glossaryk,” Heckapoo suddenly said, drawing his attention onto her. Glossaryk regarded his fellow members with the same level of disinterest as usual, which led her to ask suspiciously, “You do remember your purpose and mission that we discussed.”

“Please I was here at the dawning of time itself and created every single one of you and this commission, I think I can handle a simple task such as this,” the magical being said, though his monotone voice was anything but convincing.

However, Heckapoo just nodded and said to Star, “Very good, then we leave this in your capable hands, Star Butterfly.” As the blond felt their attention return to her, she bowed, Marco doing the same.

“I-” Star cut herself off, quickly correcting herself. “We won't let you down.” She gave her boyfriend a small smile, which he eagerly returned.

“Very good,” Heckapoo replied, all formalities, no hint of hostility in her tone. “Than I guess we have nothing left to discuss.”

Before either Star or Marco could say anything more, Glossaryk began floating toward the elevator doors. “Well since we're finished then we should hurry and head downstairs, I want to help myself to some of Shawn's muffins before he throws them away.”

Star and Marco shrugged and started to follow after, when a bunch of heavy bags landed on top of them, crushing them both under its massive weight. “Oh and do me a favor and carry those for me, would you.”

“Sure thing,” Star called back in a strained tone, trying and failing to sit up and push the dead weight off of her back. After several moments of struggling, the young couple finally managed to haul themselves out from under the bags, they began dragging them toward the elevators, grunting and groaning as they fought against the luggage’s heavy weight, the going agonizingly slow. The commission watched this whole display with blank looks, waiting until the doors to the elevator shut, sealing the princess and her boyfriend from earshot, as Heckapoo let out a loud laugh. “Ha, well that went off without a hitch,” she chuckled darkly to herself, moving so she was sitting sideways in her chair, relaxing her posture now that they were alone.

“I don't know, I still think I should have gone to oversee things,” Omnitraxus spoke up, not sure this plan of theirs was a good one. “You know Glossaryk. He's not loyal to us in the slightest.”

Heckapoo scoffed. “Glossaryk isn't loyal to anyone and that includes Star,” Heckapoo pointed out. “Seriously we already discussed this. This plan of mine is perfect.” Heckapoo smiled to herself at her genius, before continuing to brag. “Sure he may not help create a Monster free world or anything like that, but we all know what a pain that little blue man can be. And now he can go and be a nuisance to Star and we don't have to deal what that little pest anymore, it's a win-win.”

Rubilax laughed. “Ha, yeah, no more Glossaryk! This is the best day ever!” the crystal man declared, throwing his snake arms up as he cheered. He and Glossaryk had a very rocky relationship, the magical being often provoking and making fun of Rubilax just to anger him and see him punished. The crystal man despised Glossaryk and now he didn't have to deal with him ever again.

“We should throw a pizza party to celebrate!” Heckapoo shouted in joy, and the others all cheered in agreement. All but Lekmet, who were still watching the elevator doors in solace. He had been the only one to vote against this crazy plan, but had been easily outvoted by the others. He didn't like the idea of pawning off Glossaryk to the future queen just because they disagreed with her ideals. It felt wrong and petty. But there was nothing he could do about it now, he was forced to just go along with it, silently holding his tongue. After all, what was done was done, it was not his place to disagree with the younger, more immature members. He just hoped Star and her friends could handle Glossaryk and all his mysterious, self-indulgent ways.

…

Jackie and Janna were sitting and playing a card game together as they waited for Star and Marco to get back from their meeting with the MHC, when they heard the familiar sounds of Star and Marco. They quickly abandoned their game and ran to go greet their friends.”Hey, guys welcome ba-”

Jackie's greeting froze on her lips, as she and Janna took in the strange scene before them. A small blue man with an unreadable expression hovered in the air, his lazy, triangular eyes drifting around the castle in disinterest, while behind him, Star and Marco, as well as several guards were struggling to pull a large set of bags through the castle, all of them straining as they fought the massive weight.

“Hey Jacks,” Marco panted out in greeting, giving her a tired wave. “You maybe want to help us with this luggage, please?”

“Yeah sure thing,” Jackie replied, racing over to help, not that it did much good, the bags were still unbearably heavy. Janna didn't move to help, just walking behind the others, watching their slow progress, but none of her friends argued. Although Janna's Monster strength would be welcomed, they couldn't risk the guards discovering the girl's secret.

The skater kept looking over at their floating guest in confusion, before asking, “So who's this guy?

Star, noticing introductions were in order, said in a monotone voice, “Jackie this is Glossaryk. He's the one the commission sent to help us. Glossaryk this is the earth representative, Jackie Lynn Thomas.”

The skater wasn't fazed by Star's lack of enthusiasm, more thrown off by her words than her tone. “Wait, I thought the MHC wasn't going to send a member until after we got started,” Jackie pointed out.

“Yeah so did we,” Star mumbled.

Jackie dropped her voice to a whisper as she asked, “So is him being here a good thing or a bad thing?”

“A good thing, he's on our side,” Star instantly replied. But she frowned as she thought her words over carefully. “At least I think he is,” she added with a shrug.

“Think?” Jackie repeated.

“Well, he was the one who gave me the idea for the Commission in the first place, bbbuuut...” Star bit her lip, trying to think of the best way to term this. “Everything else he said was kinda... strange.”

“But he'll still be on our side, though, right? Jackie questioned.

“Wellll-”

“Is it just me or do these things keep getting heavier?” Marco commented from next to them, as he strained to pull the suitcases another inch.

“It's probably just us wearing out,” Star replied, through gritted teeth. She gave the bags another pull, feeling like her back was thrown out of place from the strained effort. “Okay that's it,” Star said with a sigh, letting go of the bag, causing the rest of them to stumble to try and keep the thing upright, as well as prevent themselves from being crushed underneath the massive weight.

Star held out her wand to the nearest wall, preparing herself to recite the spell she had been practicing for a few days now. She had been waiting to surprise the others with it when she made a new meeting room for them, but now she saw no other way around it. “Sparkle Glitter Bomb Expand!” she shouted. There was a bright flash as a bunch of glittery rainbows burst from the wand and streaked over to the wall. A second later, there was a small door in the place of where the wall once stood. “There,” Star said proudly.

“Uhh and what did you just do?” Janna asked in confusion.

“I made Glossaryk a room so we didn't have to drag around his luggage anymore,” Star explained. “Was that not obvious?”

“It was kinda hard to tell from the spell,” Jackie admitted.

“Oh,” Star said, waiting a beat before saying cheerfully, “Well then, Glossaryk why don't you go check out your room.”

Glossaryk floated over to the door, snapping his fingers to open it, before hovering inside. Janna scoffed. “Show off,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes. “We get it, you can do magic.”

Star turned to her with a glare. “Hey be nice, don't forget he's a very important guest and-”

“Princess would you be a dear and throw away those bags for me?” Glossaryk's voice asked from within his room.

“Oh sure thing,” Star called back to him immediately. She turned back to Janna, seemingly unfazed as she continued her scolding where she had left off, “...And we can't risk upsetting- wwwwait, what?!”

Star turned back to the small doorway in complete shock, her mouth agape and her eyes wide, everyone else's expressions matching hers perfectly. They could see Glossaryk inside, his back to them, surveying his new room. “Throw them away,” the magical being repeated. “I'm no longer in need of them.”

“B-But, aren't these your things,” Marco stuttered, his own mind reeling in bewilderment.

Glossaryk slightly turned toward them, before replying nonchalantly, “Hmm, oh no, I don't own any things. Those are just a bunch of rocks.”

“Rocks?” Star repeated, her brain now losing any functionality over the bizarreness of the situation.

Jackie unzipped one of the bags to check and see if the blue man was telling the truth and she wasn't all that surprised when her expectations became reality, as she far too calmly replied, “Yep, they're rocks all right.”

“Wait, why did we just spend an hour carrying around a big pile of rocks?” Marco asked, looking around at the others for answers that none of them had.

“Maybe our esteemed guest would care to explain,” Janna commented, her eyes frozen on the small figure and the others followed her gaze.

“Umm, Glossaryk,” Star tried to ask politely. “Why did we-”

“Corn chip.”

The whole room blinked, not sure where to even begin to interpret the bizarre explanation. “What does a corn chip have to do with us dragging bags full of rocks around?” Star asked.

“Nothing,” Glossaryk replied, finally turning to face them. “I'm just hungry and would like some corn chips. As for why you carried around a bunch of rocks, I have no idea, I thought that was just a strange hobby of yours.”

“But... you asked us to carry them?!” Marco exclaimed, looking beside himself with confusion.

“Oh, did I?” Glossaryk replied, looking thoughtful for a moment. “I don't remember that.”

Star sighed, knowing this wasn't going to get them anywhere, so she simply said, in a strained tone, “I'll have one of the servants bring you a bag of corn chips and if you need anything else to make your stay more comfortable, please let us know.”

She then began pushing her friends away from Glossaryk's room, leaving the poor knights to dispose of the heavy, useless bags. Once the four were back in Jackie and Janna's room and the door was slammed shut allowing them privacy and freedom to speak their mind, Janna spoke up, “So still think this guy is on our side?”

Star bit her lip, looking around at the other skeptical faces and shrugged sheepishly. “Well, I'm not a hundred percent sure, but he hasn't told on us to the Commission yet, so that's a start.”

“He just got here,” Janna reminded her.

“Yeah I know but, I don't think he would do that. He didn't seem to care all that much for the commission when we met. He's just a bit...”

“Weird,” Marco supplied.

“Creepy,” Jackie pitched.

“A pain,” Janna added.

Star paused, before saying, “Okay, all of those. But just because he's strange doesn't mean he's a spy. He's just... eccentric.”

“But how will we know if he is one?” Marco asked.

“We'll just have to wait and see, I guess,” Jackie said with a shrug.

“In the meantime, I say we keep a very close eye on that guy,” Janna spoke up. Jackie turned to her roommate with a raised eyebrow.

“Since when do you want to get involved in this stuff, Jan?” Jackie asked suspiciously.

Janna shrugged. “Hey, spying on a potential spy for one of the most powerful groups in the galaxy, now that is a bit more my style.”

The others all shared a look with one another. “Yeah, good point,” Marco said.

…

Once everything with Jackie and Janna was sorted out, Star and Marco made their way to the dining room, knowing that at this time the princess's family would most likely be eating lunch and Star wanted to inform them of what was going on. Not to mention that neither had eaten anything all morning thanks to the stupid Magic High Commission. They were greeted by cheerful chatter and small laughter echoing down the hallway and Star smiled, recognizing at least one of the voices belonged to her mother. Her mom hadn't been the happiest about Lily since she arrived, the two often butting heads (mostly caused by Lily mercilessly teasing her) but it seemed that the two were finally starting to calm down and get along, which was great news to Star, the last thing she needed right now was more drama.

Star peeked her head into the dining room, Marco doing the same, where they both saw an incredible sight: her mom, dad, and aunt sitting quietly and enjoying their lunch together. The blond royal was overjoyed that her mom and awesome aunt were finally able to eat a meal together without any conflict and Marco knowing how much both of their opinions meant to his bestie, was also quite satisfied to see everyone getting along. The two shared a look together, a knowing smile on both of their lips, before they turned back to the pleasant scene in front of them.

Lily looked over and spotted the two a second later, greeting her cheerfully, “Why hello, Star. And Marco as well, I see. We were just talking about you.” Lily smiled over at Moon, who returned the gesture.

“Really?” Star said, as she approached the table and took her seat next to her aunt, Marco taking his on Star's other side.

“Yes, were talking about all the things you did when you were a baby,” River spoke up, laughing as he devoured the corn on the cob he was eating.

Star flushed at that. “Oh no,” she groaned face-palming, suddenly wishing Marco wasn't here. She looked over at her boyfriend and was relieved to see his attention was on his delicious tray of food rather than the conversation.

But that relief was short lived, as Lily suddenly asked the hooded teen, “Marco, did you know that Star used to steal her mother's crown and then wear it around her waist like a belt?” Lily laughed, as well as her parents.

Marco shook his head and said politely, “No, I didn't know that.”

“Oh, oh, or how about the time she rode her first warnicorn, Moonpie,” River spoke up, his hearty laugh infectious to all but his embarrassed daughter. “Remember that?”

“Oh yes,” Moon said, smiling at the memory. “She took off and nearly made it all the way to the Forest of Certain Death if she hadn't fallen off.”

“We never did find that warnicorn, though, did we?” River said, thoughtfully.

“No, we didn't,” Moon replied.

“Guys, please stop,” Star begged, feeling utterly humiliated.

But they all seemed to ignore her, as they continued on with their embarrassing tales. “Well, I remember when she used to call me 'Awnt Wiwy' and thought I was an actual flower and kept sniffing my hair, that was the cutest!” Lily supplied, her laugh returning.

Marco just listened in silence, smiling at this bit of information into his girlfriend's childhood.

Star, however looked mortified, sliding further and further beneath the table and burying her heated face in her palms. Finally she groaned loudly, shouting out, “Can we please talk about something else now, please?!”

Lily seemed to oblige her niece’s demand, taking a sip of her tea, before asking, “Okay then, how did your meeting go, you two?”

“Oh yes,” Moon said, remembering hearing about her daughter's summon earlier. “Did everything go well?” Queen Moon looked at her daughter expectantly.

“Oh well, uh, it went... okay,” Star hesitantly replied, now sitting up straight in her chair again, her fingers drumming nervously on the table. She cleared her throat before adding, in a sheepish tone, “Actually that was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Well, what is it, my dear?” River asked in concern. “Is something wrong?”

“Sorrrtttaaa...” Star said, slowly.

“Star, just tell us,” her mother commanded, though she managed to also sound encouraging as well. And that push from her mom was all Star needed. “Okay, the commission decided our newest member is going to be Glossaryk,” she blurted out.

“Glossaryk?” Moon replied in shock.

“Yeah the little blue guy, that floats around in the air,” Marco explained to the Butterfly family.

“We know who he is, Marco,” Lily said, sounding equally as jarred as Star's mom. “I just thought he was retired.”

“That's what we thought, too,” Star said, stabbing her fork down on her plate in frustration. “But apparently that didn't stop the commission.”

“Well, that is surprising,” Moon said, before trying to sooth her daughter's nerves. “But I'm sure you'll be able to deal with it when the time comes.”

Star and Marco shared a look.

“Yeah, that's the... other thing,” Star said hesitantly.

“What other thing?” Moon asked, raising an eyebrow in concern.

That's when the doors to the dining room opened, revealing Glossaryk, who looked in at all the shocked faces of the room, before saying, “Am I interrupting something?”

“Glossaryk, what on Mewni are you doing here?” Moon asked and Glossaryk turned to Star.

“You didn't tell her yet about my stay?”

“No,” Star said with a sigh. “I was getting to that.” She turned back to her stunned relatives, saying, “Yeah so, Glossaryk is kinda staying here as our guest for a while... surprise.” Star did a weak little jazz hand flourish, as she gave her mother a sheepish grin.

“I see,” Moon replied, not knowing what else to say.

Lily, on the other hand, recovered much faster, as she merely smiled and said in a vibrant tone, “Ah, well then, with his help I'm sure the work will get done all the faster.”

Star noticing Glossaryk still stood in the exact same place as before, asked, “Did you need something, Glossaryk?”

“No, not really, I was coming to see if you needed me for anything, princess,” Glossaryk responded, dully.

“Why would I need you for anything?” Star asked.

“Because there are piggoats running loose all over the castle.”

Star and Moon both instantly bolted up from their chairs. “What?!” they exclaimed.

“Why didn't you say something sooner?” Star added.

“You never asked.”

Star huffed in frustration, while River let out a barbaric roar, “Beasts in my castle, I shall handle this at once!”

“No, wait, dad,” Star quickly said, drawing their attention onto her. “You guys finish eating, I'll go take care of it.” She gave Marco a quick kiss on the cheek, before following Glossaryk out of the room, yelling over her shoulder, “I'll be back soon.” But she appeared back in the doorway with a glare, pointing an accusing finger at her family. “And no embarrassing stories about me while I'm gone.”

The blond royal didn't wait for a response as she disappeared once more. The room was silent for a moment, before Moon spoke up again. “How did piggoats even get in here in the first place?” she asked.

“I don't know, but I fear my daughters had something to do with it,” Lily said with a sigh.

It grew quiet again after that, the Butterflies and Marco just continuing their lunch in near silence. The hooded teen was beginning to feel awkward without Star there and didn't know what to say to make conversation with the powerful rulers. Luckly, it was the queen who spoke once again. “Well, Glossaryk being here will certainly be... interesting,” Moon finally commented and Marco looked up from his plate.

“Star seems to trust him, but Jackie and Janna don't seem to all that much,” he admitted. “What do you think?”

Moon thought over her response. “In my experience, Glossaryk is a... mystery at best. You never know what he's going to do or why he's going to do it,” she finally said and Marco felt his heart sink a little.

“So, in other words, you have no idea,” Marco hesitantly asked.

“Not really, no. I've known Glossaryk for years and I never understood a single thing he ever did and I don't think I ever will.” Moon eyed him carefully, before asking, “What about you, Marco? How do you feel about him?”

Marco shrugged. “I don't really know yet. But if Star says we should give him a chance, then I trust her decision,” the hooded teen answered and Moon gave him a soft look.

Marco went back to his lunch, poking at it absentmindedly with his fork as he thought things over. River noticed the boy's long face and decided to lighten the mood by asking, “So my boy, would you like to hear about the time Star ate broccoli for the first time and ended up throwing it all over one of the servants?”

The hooded boy's face instantly brightened as he nodded eagerly. “Yes please!” Marco cheered excitedly. Moon, however, just glared at her husband for not respecting their daughter's wishes, but it quickly faded as she became lost in the memories as well. The room filled with cheerful laughter once more, as the Butterfly clan began recounting old memories of their child to her beloved boyfriend, Marco hanging on every word as his wish to learn more about his girlfriend was filled.

...

“Shoo, shoo, get out of here!” Star cried, as she herded the last of the piggoats out of the castle, giving them a hard smack on their behinds to encourage them to get moving. The animals obeyed, racing out the doors in a near stampede and Star watched them as they headed back in the direction of the shed they were kept in, being semi-led by a pair of very grateful farmers.

Star leaned back against the wall in exhaustion, trying to catch her breath, as she looked around at the now dirty floors of her home, small muddy hoofprints everywhere. “Thank you for your help, princess,” one of the servants said, giving her an appreciative smile

“No problem,” Star replied, giving her a wain grin in return. “Sorry about the mess they left, though.”

The servant waved her off, saying, “Oh that's all right. That we can handle.”

Star nodded. “Good, then if it's alright with you, I'll think I'll be off then,” she said, trying to politely excuse herself.

“Of course, You Majesty,” the servant replied, her and the others bowing respectfully.

Star watched the servants starting their task for a moment, before heading back toward the dining room, saying to the small blue man, “Well thanks, Glossaryk for the warning. I really appreciate it.” But as she looked beside her, she noticed that the magical being was nowhere in sight. She did a full turn, searching for any signs of him, confused where the creature could have disappeared off to so quickly, calling out to him regularly, “Glossaryk?”

Finally, she gave up and shrugged, heading off to focus on a more important task, hoping he was staying out of trouble.

...

Marco opened the door to his room and was surprised to find his light was off. That was strange, he was sure he had left it on that morning. But thinking no more of it, he flicked the light back on and closed his door. But as soon as his back was turned, he heard two small voices shout out, “Surprise!”

He screamed and turned but was knocked back against the door as he was bombarded by hugs from the twins, who tackled him, giggling the whole time. “Welcome back, big brother!” Daisy shouted, her arms wrapped around his neck, nearly chocking him.

“We missed you!” Violet yelled, her small arms wrapped around his waist. The two hung limply off of him, still laughing like crazy.

“Hey girls!” Marco cheerily replied, hugging Daisy, to try and take some pressure off of his neck. “What were you two doing in here?”

“Waiting for you, duh!” Violet said.

“Well, your mom was looking for you,” Marco said, as he finally set Daisy back down, causing Violet to release her grip as well. “You two wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a bunch of piggoats getting set loose in the castle, would you?” He gave them his best scolding look, but he needed much more practice, it looking more silly than threatening.

Still, the guilty look the two shared tipped Marco off that they were, in fact, the culprits. “We might have had a little something to do with it,” Daisy admitted, folding her arms behind her back, while trying to convey just how sorry she was to the boy with her bright eyes.

“Well, it wasn't right,” Marco scolded. “It caused everyone a lot of trouble.”

The two lowered their heads in shame, tears beginning to brim in their eyes, as they mumbled out in unison, “Sorry, big brother.”

Marco couldn't take their sadness any longer, feeling his own eyes growing damp as he pulled the two girls in for a hug. “It's okay, I'm not mad, don't cry,” Marco quickly said, trying everything in his power to cheer the two up.

“You don't cry either, big brother,” Daisy said, pulling a little out of the hug to wipe some of the tears out of the hooded teen's eyes.

After a second, Marco swiped his arm across his face, clearing it of any more liquid. “I'm alright,” he reassured her, giving her a grateful smile. “But what were you two trying to do, anyway?” Marco asked curiously.

“We were trying to make an army of piggoats!” Violet exclaimed.

“Yeah, then we could ride them into battle,” Daisy continued. “Just like all the other Queens of Mewni used to do.”

This sparked Marco's interest. “Wait, where'd you hear that?” Marco asked.

“In one of your books,” Violet said nonchalantly.

“Huh, I guess I haven't read that one yet,” Marco said thoughtfully.

“Here, we'll show you which one it is, big brother,” Daisy offered, pulling on the boy's hand until he followed, the young girl leading him over to the bookshelf. She pulled off the appropriate book and handed it to the boy. Marco looked at the cover and instantly recognized it. It was a brief history of Mewni, one he had purchased just the other day from Quest Buy. When he had seen it, he had been instantly intrigued, he wanted to know more about his people, since he had known literally nothing about them up until a few months ago, and he figured learning about their past was a good way to start. But, unfortunately, he had been so busy lately he hadn't even had time to start it.

“You two read this?” Marco asked, sounding quite impressed.

The two just shrugged. “We skimmed it,” Violet replied honestly. “We only really read the parts that talked about all the battles.”

Daisy crossed her arms. “Well I wanted to read the part about how unicorns were first made, but Violet wouldn't listen and kept turning the pages on me,” Daisy added bitterly, glaring over at her twin sister.

“Well then, maybe we should let big brother read it to us,” Violet suggested.

Marco was shocked to hear this, asking, “Me?”

“Yeah, read it to us, big brother!” Daisy squealed with joy, hopping up and down in eager energy.

Marco looked down at the book once again, a picture of some queen (Marco didn't know which one) with flowing brunette hair and a beautiful yellow dress holding a wand in the shape of a clock high into the air, her cheek marks, which were hourglasses glowing bright white. This had also immediately peeked his interest when he had found it, after all, that meant this had to do with Star's family, a topic he knew surprisingly little about.

I do want to read it and it would keep the twins quiet and out of trouble for a while, he reasoned with himself. He looked up at them with a smile, as he came to his decision, saying, “Sure, why not?”

The girls cheered as Marco took a seat on the floor and the two immediately rushed over to sit next to him. The hooded teen opened up the book, looking between the two as he asked, “So what do you two want to hear about first?”

The two just shrugged. “Whatever you want, big brother,” Daisy said sweetly and Violet nodded in agreement.

Well at least their getting along, Marco thought, as he began flipping through the book, looking for something that caught his eye. Then suddenly, the book began to glow and Marco screamed and frantically tossed the object away from him in fright. Marco, Daisy, and Violet watched in shocked awe as the book, began turning itself, flipping through the pages wildly, until it suddenly stopped on a certain page and a figure began to rise from the book. Marco instinctively pulling the girls closer to him in protection, fearing the worst. But instead of whatever dreaded creature Marco was expecting, only the bored, unblinking form of Glossaryk appeared.

“Glossaryk?” Marco blurted out, taken aback to see their guest there. The twins, however, were astonished by the trick, clapping their hands together in joy.

“Yay, big brother used magic to summon a tiny troll!” Daisy cheered.

“Oh, oh, do it again, Marco,” Violet begged, shaking the boy's arm. “Only this time, make a yucky goo Monster that covers everything is super gross slime.”

“Eww, Violet!” Daisy cried, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

Marco finally recovered from his initial shock, quickly telling the excited kids, “No, no, I didn't make or summon him using any kind of magic... at least I don't think. This is one of the Magic High Commission.”

“The Magic High Commission has a troll,” Daisy said innocently, cocking her head cutely to the side as she observed the small blue man.

“Actually, I'm an all powerful being with complete knowledge of the universe and its dimensions,” Glossaryk replied simply. “Or perhaps I am a tiny troll, it's your choice,” he added with an uncaring shrug.

“Cooool,” the twins said as one, Violet adding, “So then can you make a yucky goo Monster?”

“Yes,” Glossaryk said bluntly. “Would you like me too?”

“Yeaaaaahhh,” Violet said, with a mischievous grin.

“Whoa, wait,” Marco quickly interrupted, waves his arms around in a panic. “Nobody is making any goo Monsters!”

“Aww,” Violet sighed in disappointment, slumping her arms and pouting to herself.

Marco ignored this, his attention fully on the small blue man, “Glossaryk, what are you doing in my book?”

Glossaryk looked down at the book below him, saying, “Well, this was the biggest book I could find in the castle. Over 4000 pages, I'm impressed Marco. And it's actually quite a good read.”

Marco wasn't sure what to make of that answer, his mouth hanging open for a moment, any and all words frozen on his tongue. But he shook his head free of the confusion as he again pried, “No, I mean why are you in my book?”

“Well I believe I just explained it.”

“Yes, I know it's a big book,” Marco said tiredly, this whole conversation was giving him a headache. “What I meant was, I'm just confused why you want to be inside a book in the first place.”

“Well I needed some place to live,” Glossaryk said simply.

“You live inside a book?” Violet now interrupted, her curiosity peaked.

“Isn't that kinda cramped?” Daisy also asked.

“Oh no, it's quite roomy once you get rid of all unnecessary paragraphs that are cluttering up the story,” Glossaryk explained.

“Oh yeah, I get that,” Violet said, nodding her head in understanding.

Marco, however, was still plagued with questions, all of which were swirling around his mind out of control. But not wanting to upset the very important being, he asked in a very careful and hesitant manner, “Um, Glossaryk. Not that I mind you living in my book, but what about the room Star made for you?”

“Oh that was much too big for my liking,” Glossaryk responded, suddenly eating a chili dog which had appeared out of thin air. His triangular gaze suddenly held the boy's own and Marco nearly flinched in surprise. “I hope you don't mind if I stay in here for a while.”

“N-No, of course not,” Marco responded immediately, giving the being a sheepish smile.

“Good,” Glossaryk said with a mouthful of chili. “Then would you be so kind as to take the book into my room, I don't think either of us want me to live on your bookshelf.”

Marco sighed, but nodded solemnly. He stood up, closing the book and sealing the being temporarily inside it, before tucking it under his arm and heading to the room Star had made for the being. Daisy and Violet followed after, skipping beside the boy and chattering at a mile a minute to the quiet teen.

Above them, unnoticed to anyone, a small purple bat's eyes narrowed, as she watched the scene from her upside down perch. “Interesting,” she mumbled to herself.

…

“The Kingdom of the Spiderbite?”

“Princess Penelope has agreed to join us, though I don't expect her to be available for a lot of meetings, what with all the... uhh, pests they still have to deal with.”

Both Star and Lily shuddered at the thought of the creepy spider creatures that plagued the land of one of their neighboring kingdoms.

“Fair enough,” Lily said, checking the area off of the list she held. “And we are confirmed for Pixtopia, correct?”

Star nodded and replied enthusiastically. “Yep, it's all set up.”

“The Cloud Kingdom?” Lily asked, looking up from the paper, to stare at her niece, who frowned and crossed her arms.

“Pass,” she said grumpily.

Lily sighed and said, “You know your gonna have to pick her eventually.”

Star threw her hands up in anger, shouting, “Pony Head has like a billion sisters, why don't we just ask one of them?”

“Because they also try to overthrow her on a daily basis and aren't exactly the most...” Lily hesitated to try and think of the right word to say. “...trustworthy bunch.”

Star groaned and slid down into her chair, covering her face with her hands. “I hate it when your right,” the girl replied, in annoyance.

Lily calmly set the paper down on the small pile they were working on and folded her hands in front of her. She kept a close eye on her niece, as she asked, “So I presume we're still undecided on the Underworld Kingdom as well.”

Star didn't respond just looking angrily at her boots. “I'm not talking to them,” she said stubbornly.

The room was silent for a moment, as Star just continued to glare at nothing and her aunt watched her wearily. Though Lily knew that Star would have to make a decision soon, she didn't want to press her on the subject. She leaned back, staring up at the ceiling as she asked instead, “So, what do you make of Glossaryk?”

Star finally met her gaze, looking surprised, but she shrugged, replying, “Honestly I don't know. I mean, I think we can trust him, but, at the same time, he's just so strange and unpredictable. I told the others he was fine, but I'm not sure if I believe myself.”

Star leaned her head on her hands, her thoughts racing, as she tried to figure things out. “Something just isn't right,” Star admitted, voicing her thoughts out loud. “I don't think he's a spy buutttt, the commission wouldn't have sent him here unless they had something planned.”

“I agree,” Lily said. “But it's not like there is much we can do about it, I suggest just keeping an open mind and a sharp eye.”

Star smiled over at probably her favorite person in the family. She threw her arms around her in a hug, saying, “Thanks, Aunt Lily. I needed to get things off my chest.”

The older Butterfly held her niece close, laying her head on top of the girls, as she said, “You are very welcome, Star. Anytime you need to talk, I'm here.”

There was a knock on the door that drew their attention, both pulling out of the hug and turning to it. “Yes,” they both said at the same time, before sharing a look and giggling.

The door opened and Jak popped his head inside, looking over at the two (or rather one) nervously, his face slightly flushed. “Uhh, Your Majesties, Glossaryk is requesting to see you,” he said, fighting around the lump in his throat as he stared at the beautiful green haired woman.

Star sighed but stood, her aunt doing the same. “Okay, thanks Jak,” the blond said gratefully. The two headed out the door, but not before Lily stopped directly in front of the guard and said in a flirting tone, “Oh yes, thank you so much Jak.”

Before the guard could stutter out a response, Lily leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek, before heading after Star with a knowing smirk on her face. She never turned around, even as the guard fell across the door, letting out a lovestruck sigh.

The blond did, however, watching the entire scene and just continued to study poor Jak's face, the look of pure puppy love unmistakable. At this point nearly every guard, knight, and servant in the castle shared this look and Star knew the meaning. She turned to her aunt with a scolding expression. “Seriously is there a guy in this castle you haven't kissed?” she asked accusingly, as she now matched her aunt's pace.

“Of course there is,” Lily said, sounding offended by the statement. But her tone turned more mischievous as she added, “I'm saving them for later.”

Star face-palmed. “Aunt Lilly,” she groaned around her hand.

Lily just laughed, before saying lightly, “Oh relax, Star. This is just my way of showing appreciation toward the hard-working men of this castle.”

Star turned to her aunt with a smirk, “Yeah well, at this point, I think every guy in this castle has a crush on you.”

Lily said nothing but the look in her eyes told Star that she was aware of this fact and was quite proud of it. Star just shook her head and said nothing more on the subject, instead she focused her attention on the approaching room of their guest. The door was wide open and to her surprise, Marco was staring inside the newly-constructed room.

“Marco?” Star said in surprise, before racing over to greet her boyfriend.

Marco hearing his name and instantly recognizing the familiar voice, turned to his girlfriend with a wide smile. “Hey, Star,” he greeted her with a hug.

“Wh-What are you doing here?” Star asked in confusion.

“Well, um, Glossaryk is apparently living inside one of my books,” Marco explained, though he himself seemed a little bewildered as well. “And he asked me to carry it to his room.”

“I... see,” Star said, not actually seeing at all.“So what's the problem?”

“The twins found out he was magic and asked him to... well, just look,” the hooded teen stepped aside so his bestie could look in. Star, with a perplexed expression, looked inside the room, before her mouth dropped open in shock.

The room was now filled to the brim with pink, fluffy bunnies and some kind of creatures made of goo, the twins were covered head to toe with slime and pink hair and were staring at the floor sheepishly. Glossaryk floated over them with with an equally guilty expression and Star quickly drew her wand and shot magic at the creatures, making them all disappear in a flash of pink light.

Meanwhile, Lily gave her daughters and Glossaryk a scolding look, as she asked, “All right, which one of you did this?”

Daisy instantly pointed to Violet, Violet pointed to Glossaryk, and Glossaryk pointed to both of them. “Well in that case, you are all three grounded to your rooms for the rest of the night,” Lily declared, her hands on her hips.

“Awww,” all three groaned childishly.

“And, there will be further punishment to you two, Daisy, Violet, for creating a mess with those piggoats.”

“How do you know that was us?” Violet asked huffily, glaring back defiantly at her mother.

“Because I do,” her mom replied, matching the gaze and Violet deflated in defeat.

Lily jabbed a finger in the direction of the hallway, saying, “Bathroom, march.”

The two trudged along with broken expressions, their mother following behind them. Marco watched the two go sadly, unable to keep himself from feeling bad for the two. He turned back to Star who closed the door behind her with a tired sigh. “Am I in trouble, too?” Marco asked, biting his lip cutely in worry.

Star held back the laugh that rose to her lips, taking a second to gush over how adorable the boy was. She shook her head and said, “No Marco, your not in trouble.”

Marco let out a relieved sigh. “Good,” he breathed, a hand to his pounding heart. “For a second there I thought you were gonna tell Buff Frog on me. I mean, I didn't help them in any way, but I couldn't really stop them from making a mess.”

Star put an arm around the boy's waist, pulling him closer to her as buried her head in his shoulder, taking in his scent. Now this was what she needed to relax. “Come on, bad boy,” she said teasingly. “There is a sunset with our name on it.”

The two headed down the hallway with a carefree look, content just being next to each other. They walked by a large plant, not really paying it any mind as they passed. A second later, the whole thing shifted and shook as it lifted up out of its pot, revealing the dirt-smudged face of Janna, who watched the door to Glossaryk's room closely. “Hmmm,” she hummed to herself thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing. The half-Monster girl looked left and right of her, making sure she wasn't spotted, before slowly lowering back into the depths of the pot, disappearing from sight.

...

The evening came and it brought with it a tranquil quiet. One that the residents of Butterfly Castle were able to enjoy for all of about ten seconds before a loud booming noise sounded in the heart of the castle, rattling the walls and sending every guard into a frenzied panic. Jackie, who had been sitting on her bed listening to her headphones, jolted up in panic and recognizing that the deafening noise had come from the room next to hers, quickly ran out the door and over to the neighboring room.

She pounded on the door, still panting from the scare as she called out in concern, “Glossaryk, are you okay?”

There was no reply and Jackie tried the knob but found it locked.

She banged on the door a few more times with her fist, her worry growing as she continued to shout, “Glossaryk? Hello? Are you in there?”

A few guards and knights appeared in the hallway, led by known other than the general herself, Skullnick, who looked as annoyed as ever. “What is going on?! What was that noise?!”

“It's Glossaryk,” Jackie explained, gesturing to the locked door. “The noise came from in his room, but he won't answer.”

“Step aside, I'll show you how it's done,” Skullnick growled and the skater obeyed, giving a wide berth to both the door and the very angered troll. The general stormed over to the freshly made door and, without even bothering to knock, pulled out a large ax out of seemingly nowhere, much to Jackie's horror.

The light-haired girl, as well as the rest of the general's frazzled crew could only watch in fright as the general lifted the sharpened weapon high above her head, preparing herself to strike. But just as she began the swing, the door flew open and Glossaryk appeared in the doorway, watching blankly as the battle ax sailed right toward him.

“Wait!” Jackie screamed in panic, throwing herself at the general and managing to throw her aim off just enough so that she missed the powerful being, the weapon whoosing past the emotionless man. Jackie's felt something in her arm, snap from hitting the strong, muscular troll lady, but managed to suppress the cry of pain. Jackie landed on the ground hard, putting a hand to her now aching arm, but she quickly checked to make sure Glossaryk was okay and sighed in relief to see he was fine.

Skullnick was shocked and, for once, speechless as her face paled, guilt and worry flowing through her over nearly killing the highly important guest and injuring a mere child in her recklessness. “Um, I-I'm sorry,” Skullnick stared, her normally strong tone wavering in fear of what the MHC member would say. “W-we couldn't get inside and-”

“Can I help you?” Glossaryk asked, as if the near-death experience had never happened.

Skullnick stood in shock for only a moment, before she recovered, quickly explaining in a far stronger tone, “Yes, we heard a-”

“Hold on a moment,” Glossaryk interrupted, as he flew over to where Jackie was standing with some help from the guards, who held her in a tight grip to keep herself from falling back down. “Are you alright,” the being asked, almost concern in his tone.

Jackie shrugged, shaking off the guards as she said in a calm tone, “I'm fine. I've been hurt worse from falling off my skateboard.” And it was true, the initial pain from the hit far less intense from the strong, but not overwhelming throbbing that coursed through her limb.

Glossaryk nodded, before he patted her arm and floating back over to the general, who didn't look happy with being ignored.

“All right, now what were you saying?” Glossaryk asked.

“We heard a loud noise coming from your room and were coming to check on you,” Skullnick explained, trying to mask her annoyance, though she didn't do a great job.

Glossaryk didn't seem to care though, as he said thoughtfully, “Ah yes, it was just a harmless explosion. Nothing to worry over.”

“An explosion!” Skullnick burst out, all attempts to appear presentable flying out the window, as her anger skyrocketed. “How can you call an explosion harmless?! This castle has been through enough trouble lately without someone, even as important as you, risking everyone's safety!”

Star, who had also been following the sound of the explosion, heard the general's rant as she neared the corner, cringing at the loud tone. Oh no, what did Glossaryk do now? The blond royal thought as she picked up her pace to a run. She didn't know what the peculiar being had done to anger the general but whatever it was must have been pretty bad for her to lose her composure like that. Normally, she acted really dignified around foreign dignitaries.

Once she turned the corner, Star could only grimace at the sight of Skullnick glaring just inches away from Glossaryk's face, her face turning red with anger and her fists shaking they were so tightly clenched. She quickly approached Jackie, putting an arm on her shoulder to gain her attention as she asked in a whisper, “What's going on?”

“If I knew I would tell you,” Jackie replied, looking as lost as Star was.

“Well, nobody made me aware that I wasn't allowed to do that, but now that I know I will be sure to keep that in mind in the future,” Glossaryk responded. This didn't seem to calm Skullnick in the slightest, but Glossaryk ignored her fuming, as he flew back over to his door, saying, “Now if you'll excuse me, I have more work to do.”

Before Skullnick could respond, the door slammed shut and the general growled under her breath, “Lousy magic users. Thinking their above the rules, their worse than the Monsters.”

She turned and began marching back the way she had come, shouting out an order to her men. “Come on, idiots! Let's go!”

The knights and guards all scrambled to follow after her, leaving just Jackie and Star, neither girl knowing what to make of the situation. Star sighed, looking tired. “Great, so now Skullnick is angry and fighting with Glossaryk. Just lovely,” she said sarcastically.

Jackie put a hand on Star's shoulder. “Hey, it's okay. Skullnick's always angry, she's constantly looking for someone to get in a fight with,” Jackie joked and Star smiled.

“Yeah, I guess your right,” the blond responded halfheartedly. “I guess I just expected today to go differently with who I thought was our ally staying here.” She gestured needlessly over at the door and Jackie nodded, knowing exactly who she was talking about even without the hint.

“Yeah, fair enough. Sorry Star,” Jackie apologized, pulling the girl into a comforting hug.

Star accepted it, letting the stress melt off of her in the warm embrace of her close friend. “I just really hoped he would be on our side, but I feel like he's nothing but trouble,” she admitted softly.

The skater finally released Star from the hug, but kept a hand on her shoulder. “Hey it's only been a day, at least give him some time, to y'know, adjust,” Jackie suggested.

“Yeah, your right, you and Aunt Lily really are too smart sometimes,” Star said, sounding a bit more lighthearted and far less stressed.

“And don't you ever forget that,” Jackie joked, with a mock cocky smirk and the two burst into laughter.

“Would you two mind keeping it down, some of us are trying to focus,” Glossaryk's annoyed voice called from his room and the girls quickly covered their mouths to muffle their giggles.

Once they had calmed down, Star gave Jackie one of her bright smiles, and said cheerfully, “Well, I better head to bed. It's going to be another long day, tomorrow.”

Jackie, glad to see her friend doing better, watched her go and waved after her. She didn't drop her arm until the girl disappeared down the hallway.

Once she had though, a realization came to Jackie with a start, as she looked down at her arm, the arm that she had injured from slamming into Skullnick, the one Glossaryk had patted a moment later. She had been so distracted that she hadn't even noticed, when he had touched her, a warmth had filled the limb and she had been able to use her arm without any problem since.

The skater turned to the guest bedroom with surprise, her mouth hanging open. But it switched to a smile, as she realized maybe Glossaryk wasn't nothing but trouble after all.

Meanwhile from a vent on the wall opposite, a pair of searching brown eyes held a binocular up to them, watching the light-haired girl's every move as she went back into her room and closed the door. “I think I have everything I need,” a voice declared to no one but the spiderwebs and rats scurrying about the ventilation system she was in.

…

It was late that night, Star asleep peacefully in her bed, when the door to her room began creaking open, light flooding the area and highlighting the royal's face. The girl groaned and rolled over, her still unconscious form more annoyed by the light than anything else. A form tiptoed over, until it stood beside the blond's bed. A flashlight flicked on a second later, highlighting the intruders face, mysteriously, revealing a pair of brown eyes and fangs, the girl in full Monster form. “Star,” Janna said and the princess peeped open an eye.

Star screamed in fear, as she stared at the creepy face, jumping up from her bed, grabbing her wand off her nightstand and preparing to fire. But through the added glow of her wand, she was able to recognize the creepy face as none other than Janna and she huffed in annoyance. “Janna, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” the blond royal hissed at her friend, as she dropped back down onto the soft mattress, a hand to her racing heart.

Janna made a shushing motion and Star reluctantly obeyed, as she watched the creepy girl crawl onto the bed beside her, the light flashing around the room recklessly for a moment,from it's owners jerky movements. Once she was situated Janna held the light level so it wasn't shining in their eyes, as they talked. “What are you doing here, anyway?” Star asked, keeping her voice down to a whisper. “It's the middle of the night?”

“I think I figured out who's side Glossaryk is on,” Janna answered proudly, ignoring the second question altogether.

Star instantly switched from annoyed confusion to burning interest as she gripped the half-Monster girl's shoulders asking in a barely suppressed yell, “You do, how?!” The light once again bounced randomly around the room, before coming to halt.

“Okay, calm down, geez,” Janna said annoyed, shrugging off the girl's surprisingly strong grip. “I've been spying on him all day, remember, and I think I've put it all together.”

Star waited, with very little patience for the girl to continue, but it seemed Janna was insistent on holding for a moment in suspense, leaving the blond to prompt, “Go on.”

“You know I had this whole thing planned out,” Janna said in irritation. “The dramatic build up, the unexpected reveal, the works, and I don't really appreciate you messing it up.”

Star leaned in closer to her friend with a commanding frown, telling her, “Just get to the point!”

“Okay fine, way to kill the suspense.” Janna rolled her eyes and said dryly, “He's not on anyone's side.”

Star froze, her body unmoving for a full minute, and her blue eyes unblinking, as she stared ahead at seemingly nothing. “Star?” Janna questioned, waving a hand in front of her face, getting no response. Finally, the teen did the only thing she could think of, shining the flashlight directly into Star's face.

“Ow, Janna!” Star screamed, rubbing at her eyes, spots filling her vision, as she was rendered temporarily blind.

“And see, this is why I wanted to ease you into it, instead of just blurting it out, because I didn't want to melt your brain,” Janna said, as she lowered the flashlight, giving her friend a smug look, despite her not being able to see it.

But Star could easily pick up on her know-it-all tone and let out a short breath. “Well I obviously didn't think you were going to say that,” Star retorted, defensively. Her vision now clearing, she faced her friend asked, “And what do you mean by that, anyways?”

Janna shrugged. “Exactly what I said, Glossaryk doesn't have any allegiance one way or the other, he basically just does whatever he wants, he only helps out when he wants to and from what I can tell, that can be pretty random.”

“Well no duh,” Star shot back, crossing her arms. “I already knew all of that, he told me that the day we first met.”

Janna froze for a moment, the tables turning as she found herself the one caught off guard and perplexed. “So what your saying is, I just wasted my entire day spying on that weird blue man, who spends a surprising amount of time airing out his robes by the way...”

“Ew,” Star groaned in disgust.

“Only for me to tell you exactly what you already knew,” Janna finished and Star gave her sheepish look.

“Uh pretty much,” Star said hesitantly.

Janna let out a long sigh, before declaring in annoyance, “That's the last thing I ever do anything for you.” She rose off the bed and started heading for the door, with a frown.

Star waited until her door closed once again, before falling down onto her pillows in a slump. “Great, back to square one,” she said to herself, dejectedly. She rubbed her palms into her eyes, trying to think of her next move. “What am I supposed to do, now?” she asked her empty room. “I'm no closer to getting Glossaryk on my side than I was yesterday.” She let out a tired sigh, knowing she was left with only one option left. “No more beating around the bush, tomorrow morning, I'm gonna have to talk to him.”

…

The next morning Star softly knocked on the door to Marco's room, alerting him to her presence, as she slowly pushed it open. But she was surprised to find not one form underneath his soft covers but rather three, one large, two small. Star walked over to the lumps, and smiled down at the sight of her boyfriend and her two little nieces cuddling him under the sheets. Her heart skipped at beat at the cute scene and she felt almost bad for having to ruin the moment (not to mention for forgetting her camera). But, seeing no other choice, she reached a hand down and gently shook the boy's shoulder, calling to him in a quiet tone, “Marco.”

The boy's eyes blinked open and he looked up into the sky blue orbs of his bestie, a wain grin lighting up his face as he recognized her. “Hey Star,” he said groggily.

Star sat down on her knees beside his bed, giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead. She ran a hand through his soft, but tangled locks as she asked, softly, “What are the twins doing in here?”

Marco didn't hear the question though, too busy reveling in the feeling of the girl's fingers brushing against his skin for a moment and leaning into her gentle touch. “Hmm,” he asked, a loving grin on his face, before he finally processed the girl's words. “Oh! They had a bad dream, so they asked to sleep in here with me and I couldn't just say no.”

Star smiled down at him, loving how big a heart her Marco had, always caring for others before himself. “Well I was on my way to go talk to Glossaryk this morning and I was wondering if you would come with,” Star said, before admitting sheepishly, “I could really use the support.”

Star wasn't surprised when Marco instantly nodded, saying in a reassuring tone, “Yeah, of course, Star. Anything for you.”

Marco sat up from his bed, Star trying not to coo over how cute he looked in his blue pj's. The twins groaned from the sudden disappearance of the warm blanket, Violet rolling over onto her other side, while Daisy felt around for the missing sheets.

“Violet, give me back my blanket,” Daisy's snoozing form groggily commanded.

“No, only after you give me back mine,” Violet slurred back, her face scrunching up in anger.

The two teens shared a look and had to cover their mouths to stifle their laughter. Even in sleep, it seemed the young girls couldn't help but fight. Marco tenderly laid the blanket back across the two, tucking them in tightly before taking Star's hand and following her out of his room.

…

A few mintues later, that were at his door, knocking as they tried their best to gain his attention. “Glossaryk, can we come in?” Star asked, waiting for a response that never came. She frowned and knocked again, tempted to just throw the door open regardless of their guest's wishes. Jackie peeked her head out of her own room, curious over where the loud racket was coming from on this early morning. Seeing Star and Marco standing outside the neighboring room, she quickly went over to join them, asking Marco once she had reached them, “What's up?”

The boy, who was trying to comb down his messy bed head with his fingers, looked over at his friend and answered, “Star wanted to talk to Glossaryk about something.”

“Oh yeah, that reminds me,” Jackie said, snapping her fingers in remembrance. She turned to the blond, who was staring intensely at the still-closed door, almost trying to will it open. “Hey, Star you'll never guess what happened to me yesterday-”

But before the skater could finish her story, the door was suddenly opened by a small butler man with eight eyes. All three teens took an immediate step back, flabbergasted by the strange sight. “Can I help you?” the man said, in a thick British accent.

“Um, we wanted... to speak to Glossaryk,” Marco spoke up hesitantly, his two friends brains still too frazzled to form words.

“Ah yes, of course, he's been expecting you,” the butler opened the door wider and gestured for them to enter. The three obeyed, stepping inside, once again caught off guard by the drastic changes within the room. It was now three times the size and to their surprise was filled with magical creatures and being of all shapes and sizes, who seemed to be having some sort of party.

“Where did all these guys come from?” Star asked, looking around at the dozens of unfamiliar being around them.

Jackie looked around at the suddenly enormous room, commenting, “Huh, nice digs.”

Star massaged her forehead with the tips of her fingers, feeling a headache beginning to form. It was way too early for this. “Okay, let's just find Glossaryk and get this over with.”

“But where is he?” Marco asked, his eyes scanning the giant, crowded room for any signs of the small blue man.

The sound of someone clearing their throat, drew the teens attention to behind them, where the same butler from before said, “Right this way, please. Follow me.” He then began pushing his way into the crowd and the three watched him for a second, before looking between each other and shrugged. They quickly caught up with him, as he led them to wherever it was Glossaryk was residing in his own room.

Marco was struggling to keep up with them in the tight and confining crown, when suddenly, he tripped on something and nearly fell, but was caught by an arm. “Whoa watch it there, buddy,” came the oddly distorted voice of his savior. Marco was lifted back up to his feet and the teen turned and thanked whoever had saved him. He was slightly startled to see that this creature was a large triangle thing (reminding him quite a bit of a nacho chip) with a large yellow eye and a top hat. His long black arms were fiddling with the olive in the champagne glass he held. “No problem there, Hoodie,” the creature replied to his gratitude, his big yellow eye, studying him up and down, making the boy feel very uncomfortable.

Marco considered questioning why this being had referred to as his favorite choice in fashion, when he was still in his pj's, but was unable to as they being spoke again. “But if you really want to thank me, how's about you and I make a deal, huh? Solve this little crisis you're having?” The being leaned in closer to Marco, elbowing him in the shoulder.

“Um, there's no crisis,” Marco said quickly, seriously wanting to get away from this creature... now. He was giving him bad vibes. “I mean, there's a few problems but no crisis.”

The triangle didn't seem to buy this, as it asked whispering into Marco's ear, “Come on, Hoodie, you can't fool me. Don't you want to know who's behind your girlfriend's little kidnapping attempt or not?”

Marco felt his heart skip a beat. How did this weird, shape thing know about that? The boy opened his dry mouth to respond, when he heard a call from none other than Star. “Marco, come on!”

The boy turned for a second to see his girlfriend and his friend waiting for him to catch up to them, before turning back to the triangle.

But to his surprise, the creature was gone, disappearing into thin air, no trace left behind to show he was even there to begin with. The boy tried to ignore this strangeness as he ran to catch up to his friends, but found himself gazing back at the area, uneasily.

Once the three were reunited, the butler finished leading them to the very far corner of the room, where a pedestal sat, with Marco's history book laying closed on top of it.

None of them knew how to react to this or what to do next, just staring at the book unsure. “So, do we just open it or what?” Marco asked his friends and both girls shrugged.

“Knock,” the butler said out of nowhere.

“What?” Star asked him, all of them giving him a confused look.

“Your boyfriend asked what to do and I just told you, it would be polite of you to knock.”

The three blinked once, before Star said, “Uhh, right. Thank you for your help.”

“It is my job,” the man said. “Now if you'll excuse me, one of our guests has set down a full cup of punch without using a coaster. I must attend to the mess,” he finished dramatically, bowing to them and walking away.

The teens attention was quickly drawn back to the book, as Jackie said, “Well go ahead, Star. Knock.”

Star took a deep breath to prepare herself, before walking over to the book, and carefully rapping her knuckles against its cover. She took a step back, the three now all watching as they waited for something to happen. Several seconds passed and the book remained closed, prompting Marco to ask, “So, is he asleep or-”

Suddenly the book flew open, the pages turning wildly and the three teens let out an instinctive shout, clinging to each other for sudden protection. But they recovered quickly, pulling away once more as they watched Glossaryk surface from the still rapidly turning pages, yawning and stretching his arms.

“Well I was, until someone woke me,” the blue man replied to Marco's earlier question.

“Sorry to wake you, Glossaryk,” Star apologized quickly, wanting to get straight to the point, knowing the longer it took the weirder and more confusing things would get. “But I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yes, I know, I expected you to come,” Glossaryk replied, much to Star's surprise.

“Then why were you asleep,” Jackie asked.

“Well, Reynaldo told me you would be here much later. Thanks for that by the way,” Glossaryk loudly called to one of the guests, a bald giraffe in a white robe.

“The striking of the hours and the seconds of the day, are all too similar but will come either way,” Reynaldo replied mysteriously.

The three teens blinked, Marco asking, “Uh, what?”

Glossaryk sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Reynaldo can only speak in rhymes. Its gets very old, very fast,” he explained to the three, looking and sounding very annoyed.

“Great, so anyways-” Star started, trying to get back on track to the reason they were there.

But Glossaryk ignored her and turned back to the giraffe, who was still reciting rhyme after rhyme to anyone unfortunate enough to be within hearing distance of him, and shouted out, “Yes, thank you, Reynaldo. Keep... doing what your doing, from way on the other side of the room.”

The giraffe did take Glossaryk's advice and wandered off, still spouting out more gibberish as he went. “Now what can I help you three with this morning?” the being asked, as he created a donut and coffee mug, and beginning snacking away on the fabricated treats.

Star stared blankly at him for a moment, before shaking her head free from the annoyance and confusion she was feeling as she forced her mind to focus on the matter at hand. “Okay look, I get that your going for the whole weird all-knowing being image and all that,” Star said, doing a little wave of her hands for emphasis, as she fought the urge to roll her eyes. “But, right now, I need you to give me an honest answer. No weird magic stuff, no trying to change the subject, and no mysterious mumbo-jumbo. Just a yes or no answer, okay?”

Glossaryk nodded and said, “I can do that, yes.”

“Good,” Star breathed out in relief. But her voice grew serious as she asked, “Then I need to know. Are you going to help me with the commission or not?”

Marco and Jackie held their breath as they waited for Glossaryk's reply, Star's eyes remained trained on him as she waited for his answer. “Why does it matter one way or the other?” Glossaryk asked.

This was not what Star had expected him to say, opening her mouth to respond, but found no words there. “I, um- Well- I-I just,” Star stuttered out in surprise, unable to form a coherent sentence at the moment.

“Your going to continue doing what you want regardless of my assistance, correct?”

“Well yes, but-”

“And your commission will still form whether or not I'm a part of it.”

“Yeah.”

“So then, why do I concern you so much?” Glossaryk asked outright.

Star took a moment to respond to that one. Why did she care? So what if Glossaryk wasn't the most helpful person ever, so what if he was confusing and hard to follow sometimes? He wasn't really in the way of anything. It wasn't like he had done anything to thwart their efforts to make a Monster-Mewman paradise. Yes, he was strange and confusing and most of the time unhelpful, but he was just being himself, right? What was so bad about that?

“I guess... I just overreacted,” Star admitted, playing with a strand of her hair, sheepishly. But as she continued, she began talking faster and faster, with no way to stop herself. “It's just, when we first met and you were the one who gave me the idea for all of this, I guess I thought that you were gonna help me figure stuff out, cause there's still so many decisions I still have to make and I don't have the right answers right now. I don't want to mess things up, I can't mess things up cause if I do I fail everyone, the Monsters and my family and Marco! And I can't let him down. I don't want to be the reason his family gets hurt!” Star panted once she had finished, tears brimming her eyes, as she looked down at the floor rather than her two friends behind her. She didn't know why she had said all those things, some of them she hadn't even known had been bothering her until she had said them. But once she had started confessing she hadn't been able to stop, letting all the dark thoughts that had plagued her mind for the last couple of days out into the open and though she felt she could breathe easier now, she was now worried what the others would say.

The blond royal sniffed, wiping away the tears in her eyes, trying her best not to show the uncertainty she felt, as she waited for one of her friends or Glossaryk to speak. And when she felt a tender hand on her shoulder, she knew it had to be Marco even before he spoke. “Star, you could never disappoint me. Even if you did mess things up, even if...” Marco swallowed, not wanting to even voice the thought out loud. “Even if we couldn't make this plan work, I wouldn't blame you for it.” Star turned around to face him, taking in the soft, caring look in his eyes. “Your the most important person in my life, Star. Nothing you do could ever make me feel about you any different than I do right now.”

Star gave him a soft smile, before pulling him closer to her, not caring that they no doubt had an audience as she kissed him, pouring her gratitude and love into the breathless action, rubbing a hand against his cheek causing his suns to spin from her touch, as her other arm remained wrapped around him in a hug. When the two finally pulled away, both panting for breath, she said, “Thanks Marco. I needed to hear that.”

“It seems to me, you don't need my help any, princess” Glossaryk suddenly spoke, forcing the two teens to peel their gaze away from the other's beautiful eyes and onto the small blue man. “Your instincts are more on point than you might think and whenever those fail you...” He now looked between the two of them and even Jackie for a moment, before adding, “You have two loyal friends who would go to the ends of the multiverse and beyond for you.”

Star looked between her two friends with a wide grin, as she nodded, agreeing with Glossaryk for once. “Yeah, your right. I do.”

“And Star, you don't have to keep stuff like this bottled up and try to deal with it on your own,” Jackie said, stepping closer to her friend. “Tell us so when your worried about stuff we can help you work through it, that's what we're here for.”

Star nodded, feeling dumb for not remembering that sooner. “Okay, thanks Jacks.”

“Well it seems my work here is done,” Glossaryk said, satisfied, starting to lower himself back into his book.

But Star quickly stopped him, calling out, “Wait, wait, wait. Was... was this your plan all along? Were you doing all of this, just so I would end up confessing?” Of course, it all made sense now, this had all been some weird test by Glossaryk, acting strange and unhelpful to force her to face her insecurities. Wow, maybe Glossaryk really was more genius than he let on.

But Glossaryk only shrugged and said, “Maybe, I have no idea.” And with that he vanished back into the book, which flipped closed, sealing up once more.

Star blinked. Or maybe he was just a crazy weirdo. “So uh, what just happened?” Marco asked the others.

“I have no idea,” Star said with a sigh. “But I'm pretty sure it's best that we just roll with it and try not to think about it too much.” She turned, putting an arm around the boy's shoulders as she went to lead him out of the chaotic, nonsensical room, before either his or her brains could melt. The three teens froze when they saw the room was now empty, though still in its enormous size and Marco once again opened his mouth to speak.

“Just let it go, Marco,” Jackie suggested and the hooded teen nodded, looking around the room as he allowed Star to guide him out. Once they were back in the real world, where everything made sense (somewhat), they all breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well that was... strange,” Star said, probably summing up best what the others were thinking.

“Agreed,” Jackie said with a nod. “But hey, at least we don't have to worry about Glossaryk spying on us to the commission.”

Star nodded, feeling quite relieved by that fact. “True.”

“Now if you'll excuse me,” Jackie continued. “I'm gonna go and practice a bit on my skateboard. I need to clear my mind a bit after all that.” She took off in the direction of her room to retrieve her precious item, waving back to them as she called out, “Catch you later, guys.”

“See ya, Jacks,” Star yelled back, returning the wave. Once the door to the skater's room closed, Star turned to Marco. “So, Marco do you have any plans for the day?” she asked hintingly.

Marco thought for a moment, before shaking his head. “No, not really. Do you have something in mind?”

“Weeeellll,” Star said, in a flirting tone, twirling a strand of hair around her pointer finger. “There's a corn festival going on in town and I was wondering if you would like to go.

“Sure that sounds fun!” Marco said eagerly, a bright smile lighting up his face.

“Great, then it's a date!” the blond said, before leaning over and kissing her boyfriend on the cheek, who blushed wildly.

“A-A date!” Marco squeaked out, his heart hammering away in his chest like crazy. “L-Like a date, date? Between you and me?” Marco asked quickly, his voice still a girlish squeal from panicked delight. Star just grinned at him, her bright blue orbs lighting up as she stared lovingly at him and the boy felt like he might melt, his stomach flipping uncontrollably from the beautiful look.

“Well, that is the whole idea,” Star said teasingly. “We are dating after all.”

Marco took a moment to let that sink in, his brain going completely numb from how blindingly beautiful his girlfriend was. Sometimes it overwhelmed him with how lucky he was to be dating the magical princess. He swallowed, trying to wet his now dry mouth so he could respond to his Star. “Okay then, let's get going!” Marco shouted excitedly, nodding vigorously, grabbing the girl's hand and dragging her down the hallway, ready to begin.

Star laughed at her adorable bestie, before saying, “Um, Marco, aren't you forgetting something?”

Marco skidded to a stop and turned back to the blond with a lost look. “What?” he asked.

Star pointed down at Marco's form, a barely suppressed laugh stretching her face, and the boy followed her look, spotting the bright blue pajamas he was still wearing. The boy lit up red once again, as he said sheepishly, “Oh, I should probably change first I guess.”

For a continuation of their date go here.

#Star vs #Star vs AU #My Writing #Light of the Sun and Stars #Starco

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skoobyspooky · 5 years ago

Text

thirteen - part i

i. a new home

The Coopers had absolutely no idea they were going to die that evening.

Tobias Cooper was a wealthy man but he was of old money so any means of accomplishment on his behalf was practically nonexistent. Feeling the weight of his own incompetence, Tobias had decided to become a Reverend and to serve the people of the small little village located a fair way from the Cooper estate. For what he lacked in usefulness, he made up for in riveting sermons and pleasant humour. He wasn’t an unkind man—in spite of the typical perceptions held around those of family fortunes and family estates. His family weren’t unkind either; his wife, Elizabeth, enjoyed sewing dresses in the West Wing of the manor and their daughter, Mary, was a lively child who ran from one end of the manor to the other end, cackling like a mad witch. They ate dinner in the library by the fireplace to combat the fierce English chill, and also to hear the tales told by powerful storytellers before them.

It was a Sunday, a holy day, when Tobias once again joined his wife and daughter in the library for their evening meal and to hear a new story or one heard before but good enough to be heard again. Tobias opened the drawer in his desk to pull his leather-bound Bible, pausing such a sweetly domestic moment to read a piece from the holy book to his wife and daughter. The eager patriarch licked his lips and prepared to utter the words of God when the silence that had previously occupied was slightly disturbed.

The Coopers glanced at one another with wide, concerned eyes. Their ears pricked up as the cause for alarm seemed to grow louder and clearer to their consciousness: it was a little girl singing from inside of their home. The Reverend stood swiftly from his armchair, holding a palm up to his wife and child as he moved gradually, cautiously, toward the library’s magnificent double mahogany doors. He opened one to peer into the corridor, glancing from the left to the right and froze still when his eyes fell upon the source of the singing. It was indeed a girl—but it was not a child. As a matter of fact, the correct terminology would be ‘woman.’

“Hello…” he glanced quickly at his family, the both of them staring in wild-eyed terror at him, as he slipped through the door and came out into the spacious hall to greet her appropriately.

Tobias gazed at her with uncertainty, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. By the door, like a good patriarch, was where he remained.

He observed her as she was and came to the conclusion she was definitely not native to these parts of England. Her clothes were too fine; delicately sewn, beautifully detailed and her dress was made of a deep plum with complimentary lighter shades of violet weaved through its material. Cascading in loose, elegant curls to her hips was hair he had never seen in such a pale, icy shade of blonde that he was distracted from the equally stark pallor of her complexion. She continued to hum in a high, childish octave occasionally easing her humming into poetic lyrics the Reverend could not identify. Abruptly, she stopped singing and her lips pulled into an easy smile. But still, she did not speak.

He nodded at her, thrown by the oddity of this whole… set of circumstances. The Reverend briefly glanced away from the woman when the corner of his eye thought it had seen a large shadow dance across the wall across from him, but he could only see the candlelight display many dancing shadows along the wall. He turned his attention back to the woman, stepping for a moment away from the doors of the library where his wife and child still remained.

“Excuse me…” he took a couple of wary steps toward the smiling stranger, only having just realised he was still clutching his Bible. “But… what are you doing in my home? Are you lost?”

“My home,” the woman parroted, her voice startling him. It was far deeper than he would have suspected; not deep in a masculine sense but deep as in it crawled into your ears and made an impression. It was not a voice one would forget.

“Yes… my home. You are in my home,” he enunciated, his feet taking a couple of more steps closer to her. There was something… something cold about her. Like fallen snow on the ground or the winter’s breeze rattling through the windows. He couldn’t describe it; but images of dead trees in the night came to mind.

“No,” her easy smile grew into a large grin with her straight, white teeth—absurdly white, Tobias observed with disbelief—remaining absolutely still. “You are in my home.”

Tobias Cooper backed away, tripping over the heels of his feet and tumbling. He swiftly reached for the wall to regain his balance, staring in alarm at the woman in the deep plum dress who seemed to be the embodiment of winter and death. The first thought that rushed into his increasing uneasy mind was the image of his wife and daughter. He needed to protect them from this mad woman—who very clearly was mad if she believed a stranger’s home was her own.

The Reverend released a grunt of agony when the library door slammed into the back of his head with a hard thud, his discombobulation preventing him from coming to comprehension fast enough to realise that another person was present. Another man.

“… I do apologise,” the masculine voice broke through the Reverend’s haze, a laugh in its tone. “I had no idea you were so close to the door.”

“I beg your pardon…” Tobias groaned, his hand cradling the back of his head, feeling something wet pool between his fingers. “But why—why are you in my house—”

The man, who Tobias observed as being the contrast of the woman with his jet black hair and bottomless pits for eyes, sighed heavily. Tobias felt a strong hand underneath his armpit, hoisting him swiftly to his feet from the floor. The wetness continued to curl around his fingers as it grew and grew. Was he bleeding, he wondered. He pulled his hand away and saw his crimson-stained hands, his brain slowly catching up to the present events.

“Oh my God…” he whispered, shocked.

“Not really, he’s left for the evening,” said the strange man casually, bringing Tobias’s hand to his mouth and licked a strip of the blood away from his palm.

He gave Tobias a mischievous wink, parting from bewildered (and frightened) Reverend to press his bloodied lips against the woman’s. In an instant, she went back for more but the man—who was frighteningly tall—pulled away and held a finger in front of her.

“Mina…” he said in the voice of a disapproving father. “You have your own. She’s in there, darling…”

He graced the blonde woman with a kiss to the forehead, watching as she practically skipped to the door of the library and slid gracefully inside the room. Still confused and dazed, Tobias barely registered the shrill screams, cries and pleas coming from within the library. He felt dizzy, weak, but still he made his way toward the door, rattling the doorknob with as much strength as he could muster in his state. His unwelcome visitor approached him calmly, peeling his desperate fingers away from the door with his sharp, pointed fingernails. He pressed Tobias against the opposite wall, forcing him to face the mahogany doors and to hear the continuing screams of his wife. He couldn’t hear his child. He couldn’t hear his daughter.

“What have you…” Tobias managed to choke out, breaking into sobs. The taller man with the dark hair placed a hand on Tobias’s shoulder as if he were comforting him.

“It’s all for a purpose, you dear thing,” he smoothed Tobias’s hair back as if they were about to attend a public engagement rather than acknowledge that clearly a massacre was occurring in the present moment. “See, I’ve got a wife and child to feed, clothe, and care for and we need a home… somewhere remote, not too many windows, lots of space for Sibella to grow… it was all a matter of fortune for you and I’m afraid you have none. Honestly, I do sympathise with you, I would despise the man who hurt my girls.”

Tobias was about to mutter how this man was a monster. How God would never forgive him from this act of pure evil—him and his wife alike. But Tobias could only stare into the man’s dark eyes, fear and fatigue consuming his whirring head, and then too died alongside his family on that holy Sunday.

The stranger, his wife and the baby they had brought with them—that the man had placed in the library with the mother and her own child—moved in shortly after the deaths of the Cooper family. The villagers soon became aware of the haunting of what was formerly known as Cooper Palace and strayed very far from its grounds.

ii. separate beds

“I never completely understood the dirt aspect of your myth.”

Dracula dragged a large, coffin-sized crate into the wine cellar of what was formerly the Coopers’ home. Their drained, pallid corpses laid stiff and unmoving on the cold, hard floor of the cellar, pushed to one corner like bits of waste waiting to be removed. At the top of the stairs wearing nothing but a loose, lacy robe left untied to expose her toned stomach and pert breasts, Mina regarded the sight she was witnessing with the slight of her head and an inquisitive expression. Dracula, still dressed in his suit with spatters of blood staining his shirt sleeves, continued to drag the crates across the floor into a sensible pattern. He flipped open the lids of the crate—the actual truth was he ripped open the ones nailed down with his fingers, not even flinching at his own actions—and knelt on the edge, resting his forearms on the edge of the crate.

“Not a myth, my love, it’s very real—unfortunately,” he glanced up at her, reaching for a handful of the soil from his homeland. “It’s necessary for my survival.”

“The same with crucifixes?” She inquired with a cocked brow.

They hadn’t known Tobias Cooper had been a reverend and while every home across England would contain some kind of religious paraphernalia, the reverend’s home was filled with the bloody things. Crucifixes, Bibles, statues of the Virgin Mary; it wasn’t a home as much as it served as de facto church for him and his family. Brilliantly, Mina had played the role of the lost, helpless mother to perfection; she had lingered outside of the kitchen’s back door, pinching Sibella’s toes to get her to cry (which had been difficult since the baby seemed to have an extremely high pain tolerance). Crying out that she had nowhere to go and was abandoned by her husband close to the grounds, the kitchenmaids took pity and invited her in. After their deaths, Mina had to go around and remove the crucifixes from any potential path they would make. She would have laughed at how absurd it was that she needed to do all of these things if she hadn’t been consumed with questions as to why all of this was real for him.

His black eyes met hers, holding her gaze unblinkingly. “The same with the crucifixes.”

Mina studied the crates a little more closely, pondering if they were going to scatter bits of home soil on the floor of the bedroom upstairs or stick some of the dirt in the mattress. But only when she truly observed the situation that she came to an angering realisation: he wasn’t even going to be sharing a bed with her. He was going to be staying down here, in one of those crates, sleeping in dirt while she would be sleeping either alone or with Sibella.

“You’re not staying upstairs with me, are you?” Mina snapped, straightening her posture. “You’re going to be down here the whole time.”

Dracula was always calm and casual about every little thing that others would consider obstacles or potentials for arguments. This time was no different; he stood with graceful ease from his position by the crate, wiping his hands on the front of his trousers.

“Yes, I’m going to be staying down here when I rest… but every other time…” he approached her, using his long legs to reach her quicker with his lengthy strides. Mina backed away from him, standing outside of the doorway, while he still remained inside of the cellar.

He lowered himself to his knees, smoothing a hand over her naked thigh and hooking it over his shoulder. She really tried to stay livid with him for being intentionally separate from her, but the man had his witchcraft that seemed to quell any rage she had. She bit her lip when he pressed kisses against the flat of her stomach and then lowered his mouth to suck at the swollen nub concealed below her curls. She made a low, breathless whine combing her fingers through his dark tresses.

“Manipulative cunt…” she whispered, laughing down at the top of his head.

“I agree,” he muttered against her flesh, grinning to himself.

iii. street kitchen

In the corners consumed by shadow, in the streets illuminated poorly by street lamps located every thirty or so meters from each other, monsters would emerge to indulge in insidious desires. None of these monsters ever appeared as monsters would in stories. None of them ever had heavy jowls dripping, large fangs sneering, fur sprouting from their twisted anatomy or beards made of slimy, pungent tentacles. The monsters that covered themselves in darkness also masked themselves as polite, clean societal gentlemen with nice suits and fashionable top hats. Some of those monsters were even women; typically, they were either the cause or the enabler. In the late 19th century, still no one knew better than to keep their doors open and to let their children play in the streets, unattended.

On a quiet summer’s evening, these monsters emerged from their beloved shadows to seek out a new meal for their awakening hunger. For one tall man with fierce red hair—he shall not be given a name—he had barely wandered the streets for more than ten minutes before he came across a potential. His lips pulled into a pleased little grin, stepping into the harsh light to greet the young thing chasing after the rats scurrying in the street. He tucked his hands into his trouser pockets, pursed his lips and whistled a tune to gain her attention.

The girl, small and pale, long black curls raining down her back and dressed entirely in black, glanced up from her play to acknowledge her new company. She was perfect, he thought to himself, and edged a little closer to her. A shiver ran down his spine when he noted how fixed her stare was on him and how rarely she seemed to blink. He also had only just noticed how dark her eyes were.

But the man continued to think to his depraved self: she’s just a child. It’ll be easy.

“Hello!” He greeted cheerily, making his distance between himself and the young thing shorter. “What might you be doing outside? Where’s your mother?”

He received a lengthy pause before the thing said anything at all. “Mummy’s waiting for me.”

“Is she?” His voice was high and friendly, but his eyes burned intensely. “Well, I would be very honoured to take you to her.”

The thing smiled at him, but her eyes didn’t seem to be congruent with the action. He was growing increasingly unnerved by this child. She was so very strange. But still, he pressed on; she was only a child.

She held her hand out to him and with a sinister sense of triumph, he took her hand in his own and began to walk with her. He could see the newspaper headlines already: ANOTHER CHILD FOUND BY THE THAMES. He would buy twenty of those papers, he thought pleasantly to himself.

“Down here,” she said sweetly, pointing down a shadowed alleyway, “My home is on the other end.”

“Well then,” he answered, feeling his insides do an excited little jig, “let’s make sure you make it to the other side.”

She guided him through the blackened alley, a distant glow at the far end indicating that there was, indeed, a residential street on the other end. One she will never see again, he thought, amused. He readied himself to attack, staring intently down at the young thing, her hand having slipped from his.

The wind was violently knocked out of him when his back connected with force against one of the walls forming the alley. He gathered himself together quickly, readying himself for whatever confrontation had just been initiated. His eyes snapped from one point to next until they landed on the person leaning against the opposing wall. As the dawning realisation occurred, his unease and startled bemusement filled his every being.

“That’s sweet. You remember me.” She giggled, swinging a leg back and forth.

He did remember her, it was very difficult not to remember the Count and Countess whom he met at a charity gala. They both exuded an air of cool confidence and any conversation with the Count himself was one hell of an experience in of itself. But the Countess—whose name he did not know—had been the most hypnotic and the most concerning as she always appeared to be absorbing more information than anyone else. He was about to learn why.

“I remember you, too…” she continued, lifting herself away from the wall, closing the small distance between her and him.

Sweat beaded his brow, a pained whine emitting from his lips as she gripped his jaw with a single hand, piercing the skin with her fingernails. Red crawled down her fingertips from his wounds, the young woman grinning widely.

“Can we eat him now, Mummy?” The little girl’s voice broke through the man’s fear-induced haze. How could this woman be so strong? He felt like he could barely move at all. What did this child mean by ‘eat’? Were they cannibals?

“Wait a moment, sweetheart. I’m just watching his face here…”

The moment the predator had become the prey, his temperature dropped and every part of him went limp with terror. He was going to die. He was going to be killed.

The Countess’ expression lit up like a bonfire in the night, like someone receiving an expensive gift—unprompted.

“There it is…” she sang, staring at the man for a little longer.

The last thing he saw was teeth.

#private (wwriting)

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whattimeisitintokyo · 6 years ago

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Chapter 35: I Could Never Hate You (PART 1)

SIIIIIIIIIGH!..........

Once again work has sapped me of all of my energy and creativity and has made me a literal zombie. Twelve hour shifts will do that to you. The good news is in a few weeks my work will go back to eight hours shifts so maybe I wont be so drained. It may not seem like a big difference but let me assure you: Those four extra hours a day make all the difference in the world!

But until the new chapter is finished I figured I would post the first part of it. It’s not much, but it includes an old friend. Hopefully I’ll finish the chapter soon, but I can’t make any promises.

Chapter 35: I Could Never Hate You (PART 1)

“This now concludes your Limbo experience with your loved one in mortal peril. Welcome back to the Land of the Dead. Please remain seated until your assigned attendant can safely remove your Limbo Lenses and motion gloves.”

With a flick of his wrist old man Chicharrón flung away the prepared pamphlet of sayings, that he really should have memorized by now after all these years but refused to do it purely out of spite, onto his desk and with a grunt hopped off his chair and out of the office. Grumbling quietly to himself he made his way over to the little girl sitting on the oversized lounge chair with that stupid contraption wrapped around her head and gloves covering her hands. ‘Very advanced technology’ some of the higher ups had told him when the Limbo Lenses were first produced. ‘We can now make the transition from life to death much faster for those stuck in Limbo. And make it peaceful too’

Advanced? Pah. Nothing advanced about ugly purple oven mitts with a thousand wires coming out the ends and what looked like lit up aviator goggles with five-foot-long antennae wobbling back and forth. It was ridiculous looking and very complicated to start up and shut down. After performing quite a few Limbo runs with other skeletons Chich should have now been able to do it in his sleep without having to consult the manual every time. But he refused to learn it. Again, out of spite.

With a few knob twists and buttons pushed steam was let out of the goggles, letting Chich safely remove them from his client. The little girl blinked rapidly, letting her eyes adjust to the natural light, while he also slipped the gloves off her hands. She clenched her phalanges thoughtfully as she stared at them, as if coming down back from reality. They were not soft light anymore, but healthy white bones. With a sigh she looked up at Chich, and flinched back at his glare.

“What?”

“What were you told to do?” Chich asked with his arms crossed as he glared at her.

“Uh…”

With a huff he turned to stomp back into his office, grab something and came back in, waving a piece of paper. “Leticia Rivera. When you signed out the forms letting you progress into Limbo, you specifically checked the LIFE box. That is to say you were going to coax your father back into the Land of the Living so he can live out his happy little life. And what were the specifications of going the life route?”

“Um…”

“Vagueness. You were told to be as vague as possible. No clues about who you are, what you want, not even if you were male or female. Just a non-threatening, anonymous entity to lead Héctor Rivera back to life. And exactly what did you say to him?”

Leti looked down at her hands sheepishly, picking at a ridge in her knuckle joint, and softly mumbled, “Feel better Papá?”

“Papá! Exactamente!” Chich paced in front of Leti and continued to grumble. “If you had checked the DEATH box, you could have called him Papá, Papi, Papita, I don’t care. But you checked LIFE. Unless he has more dead kids that I’m not aware of he would have known it was you, and would have been pulled into the Land of the Dead, which means I’d have to refile the paperwork and probably get a citation for poor Limbo management skills again. Then I’d have to go to that stupid retraining seminar and-”

“What does it matter?”

A small, teary voice interrupted Chich’s little tirade. He turned sharply towards the girl to chastise her, but his brows shot up in alarm. Leti’s mouth was in a thin trembling line and her eyes were glossy with unshed tears as she hugged herself. The angry words that had been flowing freely out of his mouth before were now stuck in his throat as he watched the little girl slightly curl forward with a sniffle.

“He won’t remember anything that happens, right? It doesn’t matter what I said. I just wanted to… somehow show him that he was safe, that he shouldn’t be afraid. That I lo… love him so much.” And much to the old skeleton’s horror, Leti covered her face with her hands and started to cry like a child.

Because that’s what she was. Not some absent-minded simpleton who barely skimmed through the instruction manual and promptly forgot the rules.

She was a child, separated from her father, who just wanted to speak to him one last time.

Mierda.

As Leti continued to gently weep, Chich made a quick dash to his office and pulled out his metal lunch kit. Flipping it open he tossed aside the sandwich and pulled out a bottle of his favorite apple soda and a freshly baked concha wrapped in a napkin. His non-existent gut clenched at the thought of losing his dessert, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Making his way back to Leta, he loudly clunked the bottle on the table next to her. Startled, the little skeleton looked up and saw the snacks sitting next to her, then looked at Chich with confusion.

“Uh… p-please remain seated for at least ten minutes after the removal of your Limbo Lenses and gloves.” Chich stammered as he tried to come up with what he hoped was legit sounding instructions off the top of his head. “Transferring from light-ball to bone can lead to some troubling side effects, including dizziness, nausea, vomiting-”

“But skeletons can’t vom-”

“Ah you’d think that, si?” Chich chuckled nervously as he scratched the back of his neck. “W-well… That’s true for normal skeletons! But when you turn into a ball of light it uh-… messes with all the bone molecules and particles and monocles… that can cause physical ailments that mimic real life illnesses. Very scientific stuff, you wouldn’t understand. But anyway, to combat this, the Department of Family Reunions offers you these complimentary snacks to aid you in your recovery.”

Leti looked at the soda and pan dulce morosely for a bit and sniffled. “I don’t feel sick. I don’t need it.”

“I am not legally allowed to let you leave without eating something. Stupid rules, I know, but trust me it will make you feel better. Here, I’ll even open the bottle for you.”

Taking the bottle from the table he jammed the mouth of it into his eye socket and squinted down hard. With a jerk he popped the cap of the bottle off, letting it fall and clatter into his skull. As he handed the bottle back to Leti he tilted his head back and spit the cap into the air, catching it neatly between two fingers.

“Woah!” Leti exclaimed as she took the soda. “I didn’t know we could do that!”

Chich chuckled as he tossed the cap into the trash bin. “When you’ve been dead as long as me you learn to get creative with your bones. Helps pass the time. Now eat up.”

They sat there quietly for a few minutes while Leti slowly ate the concha. Her amazement at Chich’s trick faded quickly and her sadness returned, making each bite look painful as she swallowed. Chich twiddled his thumbs as he watched her, his jaw clenched tightly as he tried to find something else to say to make her feel better. As he racked his brain trying to think of something, Leti again spoke up.

“I’m sorry.”

Chich blinked at her in confusion. “Que?”

Leti mumbled around the lip of the bottle. “I’m sorry I broke the rules. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

“Aw.” Chich pulled the green visor from the top of his head and rubbed awkwardly on his bald skull. “You didn’t get me in trouble, and you didn’t break the rules. Look chica: the thing about viejos like me is… We feel that we’ve earned the right to be cantankerous and ornery with people. So, if any little thing bugs us, we feel that its within our rights to blow it way out of proportion. But I shouldn’t have lost my temper at a kid. And for that I’m sorry.”

Leti nodded slowly at the apology, but still looked to down-hearted for Chich’s liking. With a smile he leaned over to her. “For the record I think you did a good thing.”

Leti looked up at him. “I did?”

“Si.” Chich crossed his arms and leant back in his chair. “Most kids would want to have their parents join them in death as soon as possible. But not you. And not because you don’t love your parents, it’s because that you do. You love them enough to let them live out their natural lives. When you checked the LIFE box I was very surprised and impressed. Shows that you’re very mature.”

Leti smiled faintly at the praise. “My little brother needs his Papá.”

Chich nodded sagely, then chuckled a little to himself. “Though you did beat your Papá up, so you’re not that mature.”

Leti scoffed at him and pouted. “I didn’t beat him up! I simply… knocked some sense into him. You don’t know what he’s like. He’s pretty dense! Do you know what happened on Dia de Muertos three years ago?”

They chatted for a few more minutes, laughing at stories while Leti finished eating and Chich finished the paperwork. Once Leti signed the last form she drained the apple soda to the last drop and handed Chich the bottle.

“Gracias for the snack, Señor Chicharrón. It did help after all. All of my… monocles are in perfect working order.” She said with a smirk as she formed a circle with her fingers and held it up to her eye.

Ah, she figured it out.

“Hmmph,” Chich grunted and snatched the bottle to toss it in the bin. “You’re pretty smart for a kid.”

Leti puffed out her chest. “Well, technically I am twenty years old.”

Chich sneered. “Oh ho ho! Such a wealth of wisdom you must have then.” With a final signature he put the last paper in the outgoing folder and closed it up. “Okay chica, you’re all finished. Want me to call your abuelos to let them know you’re done?”

“Nah, they already know I’m going to Shantytown afterwards.”

Chich’s eyebrows shot up again at that. “Shantytown?”

“Si!” Leti nodded happily. “I’ve gotta go tell Nieve all about what I saw and what I did. I just know she’ll be dying to know! Or- well- you know what I mean. Adios!” A spring back in her step she made her way out the door and down the hallway. Before Chich could settle back down he heard the screech of shoes on the linoleum floor and Leti was back in the doorway. “Oh! And you’ll let me know when Tio Nesto is here?”

Chich waved her off. “Once he’s in the ground we’ll let you know, don’t worry. Go on now.”

“Great! Gracias Señor Chicharrón!” With one last smile Leti dashed out the door, leaving Chich in the peace and quiet of his office.

“Weird kid.” Chich said with a shake of his head as he pulled a newspaper out of his desk. “Who in their right mind would want to go to Shantytown?” As he settled down for his afternoon break with his paper and his lunch- now sans dessert- Chich couldn’t help but smile.

Weird kid indeed.

But very sweet too.

#coco #coco fanfiction #somos familia #chicharron #chich is a big ol softy #aint he?

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helloworlddemo1122-yahoopar-blog · 6 years ago

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Star Sightings: Katie Holmes Stylishly Steps Out, Gabrielle Union & Dwyane Wade Party With Rick Ross & More!

The temps are starting to heat up and celebs' sartorial styles aren't cooling down! Katie Holmes rocked a pretty navy blue asymmetrical JD Williams jumpsuit for a photo shoot in New York City.

Sophie Fritz

Heidi Klum went even bolder, topping her outfit with a bright green “Henny Faux Fur” trench coat from KUT from the Cloth while on the set of Germany's Next Top Model in Santa Monica, California, in early June. The 45-year-old model’s stylist, Rob Zangardi, originally got the jacket as a gift for Cara Delevingne, but Klum fell in love with it, so he gave it to her instead!

Rob Zangardi

Shay Mitchell kept warm in some, well, not-so-cold temps by layering with a jacket by Canadian designer Ellie Mae. “When it’s 52° in the morning and mid-70s by lunchtime, a faux fur jacket with a crop top, seems sensible👌,” the Pretty Little Liars alum joked on Instagram on June 6.

When it’s 52° in the morning and mid-70s by lunchtime, a faux fur jacket with a crop top, seems sensible👌🏽

A post shared by Shay Mitchell (@shaymitchell) on Jun 6, 2018 at 2:17pm PDT

Younger star Nico Tortorella rocked the Teva Hurricane XLT-2 when he stopped by the shoe brand’s Festival Gifting Suite at New York City’s Extra Butter on May 30.

Kimberly Mufferi

Cara Santana donned a pretty burnt orange dress for POPSUGAR x Winemaker's Selection Launch at A.O.C in Los Angeles on May 24.

Joe Scarnici/Getty Images for POPSUGAR

On fashion's biggest night, the 2018 CFDA Fashion Awards in New York City on June 4, Rosario Dawson was among the celebs who snagged a complimentary LYFT to get home safely following the after-party in New York City.

Madison McGaw/BFA

And Miles Heizer, Derek Luke, Alisha Boe, Katherine Langford and Dylan Minnette all looked quite nice at the 13 Reasons Why ATAS FYC Event held at Netflix FYSee at Raleigh Studios in Los Angeles on June 1.

Eric Charbonneau

Workouts were on the brain of Hollywood's elite as well.

Jordana Brewster enjoyed a day at the horse stable with her family in Los Angeles last week, where she exclusively revealed her favorite go-to beauty trends to ET. "I love Fascia massages. They really get deep into your muscles, even more than a deep tissue massage. This massage really helps stretch your muscles when you are tight and extra sore," the 38-year-old actress, who works out six days a week, explained. “I am also loving dry brushing because it really gets your circulation and lymphatic system going." The Lethal Weapon star also revealed that "allergies are a challenge all year round" for her. "Whether I’m heading to the Farmers Market with my kids or trying to exercise outdoors, my runny nose and watery eyes can be really disruptive, but, thankfully, I take ZYRTEC to give me consistent allergy relief," she added.

Michael Simon/Startraks Photo

Also in the City of Angels, American Woman co-stars Kyle Richards and Jennifer Bartels hosted a panel at Flywheel’s Larchmont studio on what it means to be a woman in 2018.

Lauren Katz

Rather than hit the gym, James Franco, New York Mets pitcher Noah Syndergaard and NBA trainer Chris Brickley took in a game, watching the NBA Finals together at The Ainsworth East Village in New York City on June 2.

Andy Cohen was also in the Big Apple, enjoying a birthday lunch with his parents and a friend at Black Tap Craft Burgers & Beer's Midtown Manhattan outpost on June 1, where he ate an All-American Burger and drank seltzer one day before turning the big 5-0. And Michael Kors dined at NYC’s db Bistro Moderne by Daniel Boulud for a quiet lunch with a small group of colleagues on June 1, enjoying restaurant classics like the Original DB Burger and the Peekytoe Crab & Avocado Tartine.

There were plenty of parties and performances going on not just in New York and Hollywood, but Las Vegas and Miami as well.

Fresh off a romantic vacay, Gabrielle Union and Dwyane Wade partied with Rick Ross at Rockwell Nightclub in Miami Beach on June 2.

Seth Browarnik/Worldredeye.com

Hailee Steinfeld and birthday girl Normani were in the audience for the Jennifer Lopez: All I Have residency at Zappos Theater at Planet Hollywood Resort & Casino in Las Vegas on May 30, posting snaps to social media as they took in the show.

Hailee Steinfeld/Instagram

Logic returned to the stage at Drai’s Nightclub atop The Cromwell in Las Vegas on June 1, wowing the crowd with hits like “Everyday” and “1-800-273-8255.” After his show, which was taken in by the likes of San Francisco wide receiver Pierre Garcon, Oakland Raiders wide receiver Martavis Bryant and DJ Henry Fong, the rapper chilled in a stageside VIP booth with friends.

Tony Tran Photography

Jhene Aiko also had a big night out at The Cromwell over the weekend, celebrating a friend’s bachelorette party at an exclusive dancefloor booth during her boyfriend, Big Sean’s, performance at Drai’s LIVE.

Tyga closed out Memorial Day weekend on May 27 at Oxford Social Club at Pendry San Diego, performing his hits like “Rack City” and “Faded” and inviting a few partygoers onstage when he introduced his new single, “Taste.”

Oxford Social Club

Rapper Pusha-T hosted Beats by Dre's Governors Ball party at PHD Rooftop Lounge at Dream Downtown in New York City on June 1, ending his performance with “Infrared,” the song that started the recent drama between him and Drake.

Ty Dolla $ign got the crowd pumped at Jammcard's private JammJam event at Capitol Records in Los Angeles on June 3.

Rodjiana Munoz

Ben Rector hit the stage at a Spotify Secret Show at Nashville’s Bits & Pieces Antique Boutique on May 23, performing songs like "Brand New" and "When a Heart Breaks" off his upcoming album, Magic, which drops June 22.

Destiny J. Keller

Betty Who performed at Moonlight Rollerway in Los Angeles to celebrate the launch of Henry’s Hard Sparkling Water.

ographr

And Antonio Banderas hopped in the DJ booth during the Miami Fashion Week Designers Dinner at the Doheny Room at Delano on May 31.

Seth Browarnik/Worldredeye.com

Plenty more stars were out and about for fun events. Lauren Bushnell and her pals attended a brunch at Skin Laundry's new headquarters in Newport Beach's Lido Marina Village on June 4 to celebrate the launch of her new wine line, Dear Rosé, just a few days ahead of National Rosé Day.

Sydney Wallace

Paris Hilton chatted with fellow dog advocate Megan O'Brien about her hound accessory, the Dogipack, during a wellness event at her mom, Kathy Hilton’s, home in Bel-Air, California, on May 26.

Katrina Bowden celebrated the opening of the La Fete french cocktail bar, a new hot spot from IB Hospitality Founder Rohan Talwar, in West Hollywood on May 31.

La Fete

Tamera Mowry was the keynote speaker at Fashion Mamas: Mamas Making It Summit at the Line Hotel in Los Angeles on June 3.

Jacky Andrews

Mom-to-be Christine Lakin showed off her growing baby bump at Neocell presents Bloom Summit by New Bloom Media, sponsored by Mychelle Beauty, Radar Roller and more, at the Beverly Hilton in Beverly Hills on June 2.

Stefanie Keenan/Getty Images for Bloom Summit

After all that fun comes some R&R!

Actress Leven Rambin enjoyed a late 28th birthday celebration with boyfriend Tilky Jones at Aqua Beach Resort Cancun in late May, enjoying the beach and lounge around their Presidential Suite’s rooftop hot tub and leaving the resort to explore the Mayan ruins in nearby Tulum and Cenote Chaak Tun in Playa del Carmen during their week-long stay.