#them: sorry you don’t have enough iron and it wouldn’t be safe

[scary-grace]

I would love to be normal about donating blood but unfortunately the threat of rejection makes it the most stressful thing ever

[seeingivy]

picnic

sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

(^^make sure you check since this was a double upload and I posted the last one very recently :D)

--

dear head of the cullen clan,  keep evening plans open – im getting off work early and we’re going on a picnic.  coldest regards,  the head of the volturi  (ps. am expecting a very wholehearted appreciation for the fact that it’s coldest regards and not warmest regards, because they are, in fact, vampires and therefore cold. because they don’t have a heart and such.)  (extra ps. this is a link to a shared spotify playlist. i’ll add a song and then you add one. we’ll keep it going.) 

you snort. 

dear aro of the volturi (does he have a last name???),  so much to unpack in one email, yet again. you really know how to keep a girl on her toes.  first and foremost, you are SOOOO ran through. so offended that i wasn’t the person who got to put you on to twilight and whoever it was, I HOEP SHE DIES! if you’re team jacob, you’re a freak.  second, SO VERY FLATTERED that you think i would be carlisle. a little haunting that you think YOU would be aro…but it’s ok cuz former companions to enemies back to lovers in our case would be kind of crazy???  third. done and done. i just added a song so hurry up bc i have like ten other songs i want to add and i am #impatient  see u after work pookie :D,  carlisle cullen  (very appreciative of the cold regards. you are a king among men.) 

his response back is very prompt. 

Never call me pookie again.  (very offended that you think i’d be stupid enough to be team jacob. and direct your murderous rage towards yuuji and my mom, who forced me to watch it in theaters with them.) 

--

you wait for sukuna at the park two blocks down the apartment complex. the sun is hours away from dipping into the horizon, the chilly wind rustling through the trees. you realize now that the red skirt and white sweater might betray you in a few hours but decide that you’ll simply have to steal his jacket when he gets here. 

and you would have already but he’s twenty minutes late.

and while this part of the city is extremely safe, sukuna’s ever constant fear of people attacking you on subway trains and stabbing you in alleyways has instilled an acute fear of strangers in you, which is why you’re gripping the sparkly pink pepper spray he bought you very harshly in your palm right now. 

you think it’s sweet that he bought you a pink one. 

but of course it’s severely ironic that you almost used it on him. 

because he scares the living daylights out of you, by placing his hand around your shoulder from behind. 

“hey. i’m sorry i-” 

“jesus fuck-” 

you instinctively hold the pepper spray up to his face, your hands shaking in front of you. 

“i’ll use it, you pervert!” 

sukuna leans his head to the side, which is when you’re finally able to log that it’s actually him standing in front of you and not a stranger, and you drop your hands in embarrassment. 

“i mean, i’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t doll face but–” 

“oh my god, sukuna. i thought you were trying to rob me!” 

“i’m smarter than that. the only thing inside your purse is lip gloss, which has very little value to me.” sukuna responds, dropping the little basket at his feet and taking the little stalk of flowers out of the top handle. 

“i’ll have you know that it’s actually sold out in every store right now. so you could make bank if you sold it.” 

“don’t tempt me. and for your sake, i’ll accept the apology you didn’t give me for just trying to rob me of my eyesight and for calling me a pervert? i’m getting really tired of the age gap jokes, y/n.” sukuna responds, as he lifts your hands at your sides and places the stalk of flowers in your hand. 

you give him a big smile as you press your nose to the flowers, the scent fresh in your nose. and sukuna props down, setting a billowing white blanket on the ground before he taps the spot next to him and signals for you to sit next to him. 

“who needs eyes?” you joke, as you squeeze his hands and set the flowers down next to the little basket. 

“me, dipshit. how else am i supposed to look at you?” 

you cover your hands with your cheeks as you watch him place all of the little things inside the basket next to you, laying them out perfectly. it’s albeit a weird assortment – two wine glasses, perfectly wrapped sandwiches, a mini-cake, and strawberry lemonade. 

“well, stop perceiving me. this is so weird!” you murmur. 

it’s enough to catch his attention and stop him in his tracks. 

“what?” 

the question makes you pause. and a little embarrassed. it was a little harsh to say while you were joking.

“oh, i mean…i didn’t mean it like that! i was making a joke about perceiving because eyes…vision…and i almost took your vision away! and you perceive with your eyes, because how else would you see…” 

sukuna smiles, before shaking his head, and continuing spilling out the last of the contents – a set of gouache paints and two little small canvases. and he drops to his feet, yanking his shoes off, before sitting flat on the blanket and gesturing for you to join him. 

“there’s no way in hell that was what you meant. but we’ll ignore that for the time being.” sukuna responds, hiking his legs to his chest and gesturing towards the spread he just put out. 

you tilt your head to the side in confusion. 

“you look very pretty today.” sukuna responds. 

“thanks! you too!” 

he narrows his eyes. 

“uh huh. well, pick what we do first. the paint, the sandwiches, or the weird wine glass cake.” 

“the wine glass cake? like from tiktok?” you ask. 

“correct. i’m really bad at…cute dates. so…i did some research.” 

sukuna refuses to look at you. because after admitting it, he’s suddenly busied himself with reading the back of the box of paints, like it’s the most riveting, intriguing thing he’s ever read in his life. 

but the pink flush that’s creeping down his neck betrays him entirely, as you reach forward and push the little box down. and sukuna’s already glaring at you. 

you place your chin on the top of his knees, reaching for one of his hands and smiling. 

“you did research for a date?” 

“you can choke on your spit.” 

you grin. 

“you really know how to turn a girl on.” 

“you’re filthy.” 

you grin. 

“and you’re actually so precious, i–” 

“don’t call me precious, y/n.” he whines, as he reaches forward to flick on your forehead. 

you smile as you sit by his side, tucking the folds of your skirt under your leg as you reach for both of the wine glasses and hand him one. 

“so how humbling was it to have satoru explain all this to you?” you ask. 

he sneers. 

“don’t even ask. he’s like the biggest nuisance i’ve ever met in my life. top ten worst moments of my life.” sukuna responds. 

“i’m flattered you humbled yourself to him for me.” 

“i actually asked suguru. they’re like…two peas in a pod, they can’t do shit without each other. the paints and stuff they gave me and the nice basket too.” 

“that’s sweet of them. remind me to send them something later to thank them.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“no need. they were more than happy to give it up for you.” 

“ah yes. i hear they’re big fans of this camping bag story. the scouts honor and the fake story we had to tell them makes a lot more sense now.” you respond. 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“okay, you know what? sue me. i was like sixteen sleeping next to a girl for the first time. god forbid i enjoyed myself. and i don’t know why they’re all so hyperfixated on that story because it was a very normal thing to assume when you’re asked that question.”  

you snort. 

“and you say you’re not a pervert…” 

sukuna leans forward, his eyes flitting down to his lips before he looks back up at you. and he can tell that you’re in a mood, that you’re trying to push his buttons by annoying him. 

“you know i despise you right?” he whispers. 

you grin, leaning in. 

“is that right?” you whisper back. 

“oh yeah. you irritate me.” 

there isn’t even a shred of earnestness in the words he’s uttering. you know he doesn’t mean them. 

“keep going.” you respond, as he presses a warm kiss to the side of your cheek. 

“you’re a nuisance.” – a kiss to your forehead. 

“an irritation.” – a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“like a fucking thorn in my side.” – and a kiss to the sweet spot right in your neck and his hand snaking up your thigh, which makes you nearly keel your head back from the sensation. 

you place your hands on his cheek and pull him back, face flushed and his eyes nearly glazed over. 

“are you crazy?” you whisper. 

“what?” he asks. 

“we’re in public, dumbass. you can’t just start trying to rile me up.” 

sukuna leans back, obliging. 

“so you admit it? i was riling you up?” 

“oh, shut up.” 

you reach for the sandwiches and unpeel one for sukuna. before he takes it, he places a tiny white box in your lap. 

you frown. first the fancy date but the jewelry too? 

“sukuna. you didn’t–” 

“just open it. i’m impatient and i’ve been waiting all day. and i actually think you’ll like it. otherwise, you’re ungrateful and rude and you hate me.” sukuna responds. 

you give him a tight lipped smile before you open the little box and actually smile. 

it’s a dainty silver chain – the exact same as sukuna’s from the chain-links, but the build is a little thinner. and right at the center, a little charm of a star. 

you reach forward for his chain, dangling around his collarbone. and surely enough, in addition to the original charm he had of an interlocked circle, there’s a star charm added right next to it. 

“you always reach for it. when you’re talking or when we’re kissing. figured i’d get you your own since you’re such a big fan.” 

“you are so…” 

“perfect? sexy? the father of your children?” 

“i was thinking adorable. can i answer d for all of the above?” you respond. 

sukuna grins. 

“survey says yes, princess.” he responds. 

you yank the chain from the little box and hand it to him, before turning around for him to secure it on you. his fingers tickle against the nape of your neck, accompanied by a warm kiss, before he taps your shoulders to signify that he’s done. 

“you know. you really are perceiving me right now.” you respond. 

“and how’s that?” 

“i know you’re obsessed with me and pay attention to every word i say.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“obviously.” 

you jab at his side. 

“i mean, i know you’re doing this because i mentioned picnics yesterday and always feeling left out. sure you could put two and two together that he never really bought me any nice gifts or anything when i said he ruined my birthday.” 

“okay, captain obvious. and?” 

you shove him once more, before leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“well, i appreciate it. i know the whole…cutesy painting date isn’t your thing. we won’t have to do it again. and that you…you’re trying to make this whole thing special for me.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“i’m offended. first and foremost, i always like to eat with you. every time i think that there’s no way you can amaze me more, you find another way to spill food on your clothes.” 

“hey! that’s not true.” 

“you already spilled on the blanket. second, this is a very violent way to eat cake. you literally mess up all the layers by doing that and destroy the piping on the cake which i can admit, i am a fan of. and third, i’m going to paint us as worms, which seems enjoyable to me.” 

you curl your nose. 

“worms?” 

“yeah. what were you going to paint?” 

“i don’t know. but it certainly wasn’t going to be worms. like the park or flowers or something.” 

“boring. i’m going to paint us as slimy worms. and because we made it on this date, you’ll have to agree to put it up in the apartment, even if it’s ugly.” 

“sukuna.” you whine. 

“especially if it’s ugly. it’s a testament to our love.” he responds, dramatically placing his hands on  his chest. 

“you know, you’re so right. worms have been a really defining feature of your relationship.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your lips and an additional one on your cheek. 

“you just get me, princess!” 

and he breaks the little joke by lifting one of your hands to his lips, and pressing a kiss on all four of your knuckles before pressing your hand to his cheek. 

“and i have to do special things for a special person.” 

you return the gesture, lifting his tattooed fingers to your lips and doing the same. 

“you know…you’re really good at this type of thing.” you murmur. 

“what do you mean?” 

“i mean, being a boyfriend. and…and being supportive about everything. sometimes i feel like i’m trying really hard to be the best but…just comes naturally to you.” you respond. 

sukuna shrugs. 

“don’t know if i’m perfect but…loving you has always come really easy to me. i don’t really have to think twice about it because these are actually just things i want to do for you.” 

you groan. 

“see! that’s what i’m saying! you always just…say sweet things, do sweet things. sometimes i’m convinced i’m not even half deserving of it, just because sometimes i don’t reciprocate that back.” you respond. 

sukuna leans forward. 

“you know, you actually do though.” 

“as if.” you groan. 

sukuna pauses, before leaning his cheek against the tops of his knees and looking out at the expanse of grass in front of you. you follow his line of vision – to the dog running in the distance, the wide, billowing trees, and the little flower truck on the side – which you now realize is where sukuna copped the flowers from earlier. 

“i mean, this type of thing. that we have, or…or the way i act around you. it means a lot to you because, you…you’ve never had this before. right?” 

“yeah.” 

“well, i haven’t had you before. i know you see me as perfect, but…but when you say that i can tell that you don’t mean it the way my mom or…or yuuji think that i’m perfect. in the untouchable way.” 

you lean forward, cupping the side of his face. 

“sukuna. you’re so touchable.” you joke. 

“you’re disgusting.” 

“you love it.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“yeah, i really do. it does actually mean the world to me that you think i’m perfect how i am and don’t think i’m larger than life.” 

“if anything, your ego could be smaller.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“and…and even the other day. i know you were acting squirrely and weird when yuuji was near us and heard us bickering, but i was half convinced that you were going to take his side at the end, when he started saying that stuff about me. because it is true and i have acted a certain way in the past…and, you would have every right to agree with him if you wanted to.” 

you frown. 

“no, i wouldn’t. you’ve never treated me like that and i know you’re being earnest when you say these things to me. this would be a very elaborate way to get into my pants if that was what you were trying to do. and i know it’s not.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“that’s what i’m saying. every other person for me has never given me that benefit of the doubt, but you always do. you were the person who thought to tell me that my grandpa died when you all came to get me and you were the one who wasn’t mad at me. the things you do for me are the same, in equal magnitude, as what i do for you. if this makes you feel good, or…or on top of the world, you have to know that’s how you make me feel too. i’m half convinced that you’re basically made for me at this point the way you get everything right on point.” 

you lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his lips. 

“i really think you’re made for me too, ryomen.” 

sukuna groans, dramatically leaning his head back, before nearly pushing you over and peppering kisses to almost every surface on your face. 

“quit fucking saying my name. you have no idea what that does to me.” 

“i mean, i think i have an idea.” 

sukuna clamps his fingers over your mouth, before pressing a few more lingering kisses to your face and pushing off. and subsequently, picks all of the grass out of your hair as you roll your eyes. 

and after that sukuna, admittedly, very aggressively uses the wine glasses to portion off little slices of the cake and makes it a point to finish off yours when you can’t stomach the sweetness. and true to his promise – sukuna paints the two of you as worms, but at the park, stargazing. 

it’s a little silly, the way he paints it. you were expecting it to be more gory or gross, but it’s so corny that it makes you smile. because he draws the two little worms, but distinguishes between the two of you, by swiping some of your pink paint and adding a little ribbon to the one that’s supposed to be you. 

sukuna explains the stars. because before sukuna had dragged you out of that shitty bathroom bar, it’s what megumi and yuuji said in his drunken mess – he had pointed at two little stars and likened them to him and megumi.

and you’re almost positive that at the time, sukuna found it utterly ridiculous. but now, he understood it – the sentiment. that you and sukuna were two little worms, and two stars, and two little flowers too. 

and to his promise, the two of you decide to place the little canvases you drew at the end of the kitchen counter. 

it’s only then that you realize that you have to go the whole ten miles for sukuna the way he had done for you – countless times again. and that if you were going in blind in trying to make something special, you’d have to take a page out of his book and do some research. 

and there was only one person who could really help you, who you’d rather die than humble yourself to than ask for help. 

regardless of that, you still call sammy the next morning.

--

next part linked here

an: they're about to do it. anyways....there is a very real playlist to match the one that they talk about in the fic -- and it matches the way it described in the fic! so it's interleaved, the first song is a song that sukuna would have added, the second one that y/n added, the third sukuna, so on and so forth. it's linked here! happy listening babies

second an: thank you for the love on the last chapter. it makes my heart really warm bc all of that was actually based on a REAL MAN and real things that I have felt/have said to me and just having people comment that they felt seen by it or it made them feel a certain type of way actually made me really happy and so warm. this blog was one of the first things I did after I stopped being really, really sad and i'm glad that i'm able to share a little joy here and there, if that's what this fic is for you. anyways this is long and sappy and gross and actually I just love you all for enduring the ouchies and the sillies with me a little bit 💌

third an: double upload bc yall were so patient with me :D

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani79 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

[callsign-rogueone]

letters from samara - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x reader (Angel!) part of my Valentine’s Day celly! 💕 words: 1.0k 🏷: FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME SPOILERS, part of my Garrick and Angel series, so read that first for context! no other warnings, just kinda soft and sad.

Someone drops a thick envelope onto the table in front of you. “From Samara. They said it was important.”

Samara. Brennan had told you that’s where Garrick and Xaden are. Your hands shake as you open the seal, but you relax at the familiar slant of Garrick’s handwriting. 

My angel,

I will start with what I know you’re most worried about: I am alive, I am safe, and so is X. He’s brooding in the corner of the room right now -- he’s not taking it well being apart from Vi, but command has allowed them visits every two weeks for Tairn and Sgaeyl’s sakes. 

We both miss you more than words can describe. I wish I could have said goodbye before we left, or that we could have taken you with us, but X wouldn’t hear arguments from anyone. I have never seen him that serious about anything before. 

I’m so sorry, angel. For all of it, everything. You didn’t deserve to be put through any of that, and I know how deeply it hurt you. It was terrifying to see you that way, so drained and cold. I can’t imagine what it felt like. 

Promise me you’ll take care of yourself, my love. You are the most kindhearted person I’ve ever known, and I love that about you, but you have to think of your own needs as well. You deserve peace and rest, especially now. Sleep in as long as you want, make time for your meditation. I’m sure the gardens would appreciate your attention as well; I swear you could make roses grow in dry sand as long as you smiled at them every day. 

I couldn’t bear to burn anything of yours, knowing that your heart still beats. I kept the things I thought to be most important to you and took them here with me. I will return them to you as soon as I can, but they are a comfort to me now — my room here feels like it did at Basgiath, with little touches of you scattered around. I keep watching the door, thinking that any moment you’ll come knocking to walk to class with me, or if I reach across the bed in the morning, you’ll be beside me again. I don’t know when I’ll see you next, but I know in my heart that I will. There is nothing and no-one that could keep me from you. 

Yours always,

G

On the sheet below, another.

Until I can lay by your side and tell you about my days, I’ll keep writing to you about them instead.

Being here feels like being a fresh cadet all over again, but different -- bottom of the food chain, getting the shifts nobody wants, but at least we don’t have to constantly prove our strength like we did in our first year at Basgiath, and we already have our dragons. 

One of Chradh’s relatives is here, which is cool. I think they’re cousins? They look damn near identical. I walked up to the wrong one on the flight line the other day -- thankfully the guy has a better sense of humor than Chradh, but I’m never making that mistake again.

Every rider here seemed to know exactly who we were when we arrived. Some of them have been more subtle with their distaste for us than others, but nobody’s been dumb enough to try anything -- probably because we look like we can fight, and because Sgaeyl is fucking terrifying, even more so now that she’s separated from Tairn. 

I just got off a 12-hour patrol shift, and I’m exhausted, but it’s hard to sleep without you here. I don’t think we’ve ever been apart this long in our lives. Being without either of you has never even felt like a possibility before; it’s always been us three together through the good and the bad. Someday it’ll be like that again, I know it will.

Brennan is the best mender I have ever known. If you choose, he can help you strengthen your ability, but please don’t push yourself too far. I need you to be in one piece when I get back. 

There are three more sheets underneath, one in Xaden’s rough script and two more from Garrick, the last dated four days ago -- likely the day he’d sent it. 

You realize what an incredible risk it was to write to you at all. It wouldn’t take a genius to put together that X is Xaden, that you’re hiding in Aretia, that you’d faked your death, or rather that your friends had faked it for you. How many hands did these pages pass through to reach you? How many others out there are on your side? 

You bring a hand up to cover your yawn, realizing how tired you are. The sun has gone down, a small mage light the only thing illuminating the corner of the study that you occupy. It’s likely nearing midnight.

“The letters and the books will still be there in the morning,” Tab says gently. “Sleep. You’ve had a long day.”

You look down at the torn piece of fabric you’ve been staring at for the last four hours. It has not yet sewn itself back together, no matter how hard you concentrated or “cleared your mind”, how gently you touched it. You’d even asked it nicely, but it did not dignify you with a response.

You set the letters aside for a moment, stacking up the books that you’d found in the house’s library about mending and placing them in a neat pile in the corner of the table you’ve been sitting at every evening for the last week. You fold the black cotton into quarters, setting it atop the pile -- you’ll try again tomorrow.

You can’t help but smile as you tuck the letters back into the envelope, brushing your fingers over the wax seal.

Garrick is right, this is the longest you’ve ever been apart, but as you gaze out the window into the starry sky, holding the letters he’d written you, the distance between you doesn’t seem that far.

[mkeyztrm]

K.

- cigarettes after sex

“ and I’m kissing you, lying in my room. holding you until you fall asleep, and it’s just as good as I knew it would be. Stay with me, I don’t want you to leave. ”

Warnings(?): Toxic parents, 🍃 (barely)

nick sturniolo x m!reader(?)

I’ve never really written something like this before, so please keep that in mind 😭

Idk if this would be considered an m!reader thingy, but the character in first person is a male! I hope that makes sense 😞

——————————————————————————

All it took was the contact we made between our eyes, which ironically enough are also polar opposites.

Outside of my apartment complex stands a statue probably about a billion years old, it’s completely abandoned but it works as a perfect escape for when the world comes crashing down. I go there nearly every day, it’s really the only physical place I can go when shit gets rough at home. I can’t help but feel trapped in my own house whenever my parents have their little arguments, it’s like they forget they even have a kid. Today they started arguing because the dishes weren’t done, and somehow that just set off all of the missles in my mother’s heart, she snapped. So that’s why I’ve decided to go to the statue today, it’s my safe space when I don’t have one.

The area around me is swollen with plants, dark green vines wrapped around the chipped stone i sit on. As I’m walking down and pass the grassy corner I come to a sudden stop when I hear familiar footsteps around my spot. I slowly step forward and peek around to see a beautiful boy, around my age. His pretty brown hair is emphasized by the sunlight, and his heartstopping eyes are as well. I recognize him as the boy who lives down the hall, I’ve seen him a few times when I’ve had to leave the house. We’ve never spoke other than a simple “hey” or “hi”

“Hello? Hi sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

I quickly apologized before turning around. As I take my first step forward I hear his soothing voice.

“No, no you’re okay. I’m just taking pictures of the area. Do you want to join me?”

“If that wouldn’t be an issue, then yeah. I just need to get out of the house for a minute, you know?”

He watches me as I sit down, then he sits down next to me while he lowers his camera to his side. I can tell he’s as awkward as me, he’s just better at hiding it than I am.

“My name’s Nick, Nick sturniolo. What’s yours?”

“Oh, uh. My name is Jakson. Spelt J-A-K. You can just call me Jak though if you’d prefer.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jak.”

“Nice to meet you too, Nick”

with a smile across my face i look over to my right jacket pocket and pull out a lighter. I looked at him and gestured towards it, offering him a hit. He nods his head and says “Sure, why not. I’m not doing anything later anyway.” I hand him my lighter, then I hand him a joint that I pulled out of my pocket along with the lighter.

“But I could tell that something had changed how you looked at me then.”

Minutes turn into hours, hours turn into four more. Throughout our sesh we shared our reasoning for hanging out here so often. His surprised me, I didn’t expect him to be a triplet, let alone the oldest. He explained to me in full depth that he comes out here whenever his brothers get to be too obnoxious, or whenever he doesn’t want to participate in one of their stupid joke arguments. He told me that he loves them very much, he just needs some time for him self as well. I didn’t know somebody could understand me that well.

“And I’m taking pictures of you with flowers on the wall.”

As time goes by, my head ends up on his thighs. My head resting on him while we watch the stars together. He let out a soft giggle whenever I’d point out a constellation or a shooting star, and for some reason that made both myself and my heart happy. Being with him made my heart skip a beat everytime he spoke. I never knew it was possible to become so close to someone in only a day. I looked back up at him, and he looked down at me. He let out a smile, so I did too.

God, my heart was racing so fast. You guys just met, and you’re already each other’s only friend. Is it shameful to have these thoughts about some boy you’ve only seen in a hallway before this? Before I could continue thinking, he placed his hand on my head and gently stroked my head with that grin on his face. He kept eye contact with me, and put his other hand on my head as well.

I think I’ve finally fallen for somebody.

“Think I like you best when you’re just with me, and no one else.”

After a long while the sun starts to come up, but I’m still rested on his lap. He looked down at me, I looked back up at him.

nick holds my face tight and gently presses his soft lips against mine, leaving me no time to react. Not that I needed to react, he’s so heavenly. He grabs my hand and stands up so I stood up with him. I can tell he wants to say something, but his face shows his thoughts are jumbled.

“Could I get your number? I think we should come out here again and hangout. Next time I’ll bring a blanket and snacks if we’re out here for that long again.”

“Oh definitely. My number is (xxx)xxx-xxxx. Feel free to text me anytime you want, boy. I’ll always be available for you.”

we walked up to the apartment building together, he made sure I got home safe. Before i walked inside of my house I made sure to smile and wave. I waited until he had walked away to shut the door.

I made my way back to my bedroom and passed out asleep the moment I hit my mattresses. I love this boy.

——————————————————————————

HIII thanks for reading 🫶

I’m so sorry if this is bad, I really only write poems and I’m dyslexic as hell. I just wanted to write something for the first time and see how it went.

Please do not criticize this in the replies, I’m overly sensitive and will take it to heart 😭. /gen

————

@inlovewithmattstur lord how do you write so fast.

[rabbitblackx]

Can you do The Knight x Abused child reader: When the child reader was brought to the entity's realm after running away from their abusive single parent back at home, and after arriving at the survivors camp, the survivors decided to take care of them since their the only child in the realm. Later on, the child reader ends up in a trial at Decimated Borgo (The new map) and was found by The Knight after killing all the survivors. And can you put some fluff in this request?

(Also a side note about the child reader, they have a stuffed animal of a teddy bear or bunny ever since they were abused back at home, and ends up taking it with them before running away because the stuffed animal was the only imaginary friend that they ever had, and it was the only thing that makes them feel safe whenever they feel scared before meeting The Knight.)

I kinda laid this out weirdly idk lol hope u don’t mind. I still dunno much about the knighty so sorry in advance! Hope u still like it tho :)💖

Knight with a Child!Abused!Reader

The Knight wandered The Decimated Borgo in searches of the last survivor. He had sacrificed the other three, but hadn’t even seen you! Where could you of been?

A wave of confusion hit him when he saw your worn stuffed animal laying in the dirt. Curiously, the Knight bent down and picked the toy up in his armoured hand. This action caused a certain child to squeal out in distress. Tarhos nearly dropped the stuffed animal as he whirled around to face the direction of said sound

The Knight tilted his iron clad head to the side. Your childish mewl came from a haystack just a foot away. He lowered the stuffed animal but didn’t let go of it, cautiously creeping over to the bale of hay. The Knight couldn’t believe his ghoulish eyes. There scrunched up behind the hay, hid you, a small child. You were visibly shaking, with dry tears streaking your cheeks. You were frozen in fear, wide, teary eyes set on the Knight’s helmet

Tarhos had no idea what to do at first. You were the last survivor? A child? How could the Entity expect him to kill you? The killer in fact shook away any unwanted thoughts about hurting you entirely. Instead, your little whimpers and big puppy eyes were enough to tug at his dead heartstrings. The Knight’s hidden gaze still remained on you, and he gave the stuffed animal in his hand a small squeeze

Slowly but surely, the man leaned over the haystack and extended the toy down for you. Relieved that it was safe, you immediately reached out for it, hugging the plush to your chest. The Knight felt quite satisfied with himself for reuniting you two. You obviously loved the worn old thing. He wondered why. Didn’t you have parents to love instead or something? Where were they? Why were you here?

Well, it didn’t matter why you were here now. The Knight was a noble one at that, and saw it to be righteous to take you under his wing. You wouldn’t last long without someone like him keeping a watchful eye on you

What was that? The other survivors were taking care of you? Whelp, you were his now!

The more time you spent with Tarhos in his realm, the more you opened up. You were a tough nut to crack at first, which he could relate to. But the Knight was quite pleased when you slowly began to feel more comfortable around him. He wasn’t stupid, far from it. He could tell something bad happened to you in your past life

It wasn’t very complex, but you managed to explain to him how you were treated back at home. Things such as you how were ‘always hurt,’,and how your guardian was ‘mean’. The Knight could see the faint bruises and cuts along your soft skin. That made his cold blood boil

It was Tarhos’ duty to protect you. He loved you, but it was more than love. He felt as if he was your new father, your actual bio father, though that was obviously false. If he ever got his iron fists on your pathetic guardian(s), he would rip their heart out of their chest and eat it

The Knight would rest after trials with you in his arms. You cuddled your stuffed animal close as you nuzzled against his armour. You always somehow managed to drift off to sleep, which he thought was adorable. He pet your hair gently, holding you close

He was your knight in shining armour, and you were his little prince(ss)

[cloudyyoimiya]

His S/o Adopts a Cat Headcanons and Scenario; Ranpo Edogawa

Personally, I’d like to think that Ranpo is a cat person. Why you may ask? It’s simple. Fukuzawa is a cat person, and as we all know, he took Ranpo in. Therefore, he was surrounded by cats whenever Fukuzawa got the chance. Now whenever Ranpo stumbles across a cat he’d squat down and pet them immediately.

With that out of the way, let’s get to how you met your feline!

One day you were with Yosano out running errands. She was buying more medical supplies while you were buying miscellaneous things for the office (snacks for Ranpo and yourself.) You and Yosano were content with what you bought, so you decided to head back to the agency. You struggled to hold some of the packages, but somehow you managed.

Right as you were about to enter the agency, you heard some meowing in the café part of the building. You asked Yosano if she could take your bags, and she agreed much to your surprise. She yanked the bag of sweets out of your grasp, then told you to go.

You went downstairs and immediately asked Lucy if she knew of a cat being down there with them. She nodded and showed you a European Shorthair kitten. You asked if you could hold them, and Lucy said yes. In fact, she said that you could keep them. The kitten was homeless as of now, and Lucy trusted you with them.

You thanked the girl, then ran up to the agency. With the kitten in hand, you immediately went to Ranpo. His back was turned to you as he ate a donut. He, of course, already knew why you were late. He slowly turned around and darted his eyes towards the kitten in your hands. He reached his hand out, waiting for the feline to approve of him before he went in to pet them.

Ranpo agreed to letting you keep the kitten, but only on one condition; you don’t give them more attention than him. Having a cat with Ranpo would be interesting to say the least.

Sometimes he’d catch your cat trying to eat some of the bread that was still in the package. You thought it would be smart to buy a bread box and put the loafs in there, but the cat somehow still figured out how to open it! Because of that incident, you had to hide any food in the house. (This was something that my cat did as a kitten.)

Ranpo would sometimes whine about you giving the cat more attention than him. You really couldn’t do anything in that situation considering that the cat was still a baby, and that they needed more attention! It almost felt like you were a single parent raising two children all on your own…

Every now and then you’d watch Ranpo try to teach the cat tricks like a dog because “If they are supposed to be my cat as well, they have to be smart too!”

Having a cat with Ranpo wouldn’t be bad per say, just get ready for whining from two beings.

Scenario…

You were baking some desserts for you and your boyfriend while listening to your favorite songs. This was a frequent occurrence since Ranpo has an undying sweet tooth, and you wanted to save some money by making his sweets rather than buying them. Plus, baking happened to be a stress reliever. In a way it was a win win scenario for you and Ranpo.

Your cat, Brownie, had jumped up onto the counter to watch you bake. Ironically enough, you were baking some brownies. Stirring the batter, you hummed your favorite song.

You remembered when your boyfriend named your cat. The two of you were sitting on the couch, playing with your new kitten at the time. Ranpo originally wanted to name the feline some mundane candy brand, but you compromised and named the cat “Brownie.” The name was fitting considering that the feline had a beautiful brown coat.

Ranpo was reading Poe’s latest mystery novel on a barstool nearby. He had already figured out who the culprit was, but he decided to read the whole thing just in case. It’s always better to be safe than sorry.

“(Nameee)! When will they be done?” He whined.

“In a little bit,” you responded.

Your cat strutted their way over towards the batter, but Ranpo stopped them. Ranpo picked up the cat then put them in his lap. “You do know if you ingest that chocolate, you could die right?”

The cat only looked back up at him and started to paw at his hat. Ranpo sighed as he started to pet the feline softly. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, y’know that?!”

Brownie let out a chirp, then a normal meow. They then situated themself on Ranpos lap. You giggled at the two of them as you poured the brownie batter into a tin.

“You’re both very alike,” you said as you scooped out the batter that clung to the sides of the bowl.

“Oh yeah? How so?” Ranpo asked as he stuck his tongue out at the feline.

“You’re both very childish.”

“Hey! I’m not childish!” Ranpo exclaimed.

You chuckled. “Yeah, okay.”

You opened the door to the oven and put the tin of brownie batter inside. You then set a timer and leaned on the counter. You stared at the two lively characters for a while. You were happy that they were both in your life.

This was requested by @ranposgirlboss in a comment section! @fyodorsalvation also wished to be tagged in this!!

As always, requests are open!

[vodika-vibes]

Neverland

Summary: When you were a child, you and your twin went missing for six months. You escaped, but your twin didn't. And now that you're an adult you realize that Captain Howzer is hunting the person who took you.

Pairing: Kight Captain Howzer x Reader

Word Count: 4351

Warnings: Mention of child death

A/N: So, I developed a migraine halfway through writing this, so I'm not sure if I'm happy with it or not. But I'm posting it anyway. Also, I've never written Howzer before.

Divider by saradika

“-we’d really appreciate it if you came down to the memorial. Your mother would appreciate it.” Your dad smiles at you across the mirror, “I know it’s a hard thing for you angel, but-”

“Mother blamed me, dad.” You reply with a sigh, “We both know she doesn’t want me there.”

“She loves you, baby girl.” Your dad says quietly, “She just…forgets that sometimes. It’d be great if you came to the memorial anyway.”

“I’m sorry dad, but I’m not going.” You lean back in your desk chair, “I know you all want me there, but dad, you’re the only one who doesn’t blame me. Besides, I have so much work to do…”

Your dad sighs, “They were grieving, baby.”

“So was I. I lost my other half, and somehow their grief is more than mine?” You shake your head, “I’m sorry dad, I’m not going to the memorial.”

Your dad sighs again, “Will I see you this weekend?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. It depends on my workload.”

“Alright. Love you baby girl.”

“Yeah, love you too, dad.” You end the call with a quiet sigh, and promptly toss the mirror into your desk. The last thing you want is for your mother to call you and ream you out for not attending her golden baby’s memorial.

Ironically, you probably could make it to the memorial. Captain Howzer wouldn’t deny you that, and it’s the end of the work day anyway…but the idea of coming face to face with the people who accused you of being the reason your own twin died…

Well, you have good reason to not have anything to do with them.

You sort through the paperwork on your desk, organizing them into piles for later while you try to forget everything that happened to you all those years ago. Everything that had led to your twin brother’s death.

It was just after your seventh birthday, your parents had surprised you and your brother with your own rooms, and while you both loved having your own space, sleeping apart was still weird. More so for your brother, than you.

He snuck into your room and curled up into your bed, and the pair of you stayed awake until midnight, just talking and giggling with each other. And that was when He appeared.

He was a boy, only about ten years old, and he flew in your bedroom window. He regaled you and your brother with stories about adventures and wonder, and then asked your brother to come with him, promising him the adventure of a lifetime.

He refused to go with the boy unless you could go with him. 

And the boy agreed. 

And He took you and your brother to a wondrous place. A place where the sky was always blue and the water was always clean, and He took the pair of you, and the other children, on adventures like from a storybook-

But, unlike your brother and the other boys, Neverland, as He called it, never felt safe to you. You always felt like someone was watching you, you never could relax enough to sleep for longer than a few hours at most.

Your brother told you that you were just feeling guilty for running off without telling mom and dad. He said it would pass, because it did for him, but you weren’t quite sure.

So you wandered. You started spending more and more time on your own, and He didn’t mind because He didn’t want you there to begin with. And the more you wandered, the more unsettled you became.

The further you strayed from Him, the less bright the world became. Trees twisted and curled, grass wilted, the sky turned brown and then gray, and the water became dull and murky-

And then you met her. She was a mermaid, though unlike the mermaids in the crystal clear lagoons nearer to His home, this one was older and tired looking. She was naught but skin and bones, and her hair was a tangled mat. And she watched you with sightless eyes.

The mermaid, who refused to give her name, and spoke in a raspy whisper, led you down the filthy river that she called home, until she came to a lake. And there, the mermaid pointed into the water.

Littering the bottom of the lake were skeletons. Hundreds of them. Maybe more. All of them the size of the average child. 

The mermaid whispered what He did. How He traveled from Neverland to the Mortal Realm and he coaxed children into leaving their home, and families, to go on an adventure with him. She whispered that he killed all of the children he took, with no exceptions. 

And then she told you to run. She said that your brother was lost, had become one of His Lost Boys, and wouldn’t follow you even if he wanted, and she whispered a path out. An opening that He didn’t know about.

And, though it broke your heart, you knew she was right. Your brother wasn’t yours anymore. He had taken him.

The path back to the mortal realm was fraught with perils, you nearly died several times (from falling, drowning, and animal attacks) until you were finally able to stumble through the portal back to where you were supposed to be.

And as soon as you were back in the mortal realm, you collapsed.

What had felt like a week for you, had been six months in the mortal realm.

It took six months for you to physically recover, though some of the scars remain still, and you needed therapy for years to help you heal mentally. But eventually you did. 

And now, every year, your mother wants to drag you to the memorial and force you to relive the trauma. Oh, she never makes you talk about it, but she does make you relive it. Over and over and over-

You exhale slowly and pinch the bridge of your nose to try and stem the headache you feel forming, and then you grab a stack of folders and push to your feet. You’re done with them, which means they need to go on the Captain’s desk.

You glance at the clock and make a face. It’s late enough that the Captain probably already left for the day. Which means you’ll have to leave a note about the files for him to see when he comes in in the morning.

You leave your office, and walk down the hall to where Captain Howzer works. You’re surprised to notice that his office lights are still on. Which means he’s working late…or he forgot to turn off the light.

You lightly knock on the door, and wait a moment. You’re only a little surprised when you hear him tell you the door is unlocked. You push open the door and flash the smallest smile at Howzer, “Burning the midnight oil, Captain?”

“It’s not that late, mesh’la,” Captain Howzer leans back in his chair, a smile crossing his handsome face, “Besides, you’re still here.”

“Yes, but I’m intentionally being an unfilial daughter by staying here and giving myself more work. What’s your excuse?” You ask as you set the stack of folders in his inbox.

He glances at the folders, “I have a blind date that I’m skipping.” Howzer replies.

“That’s so rude.” You say as you fold your arms.

“Yeah, well…I have my eye on someone, and going on a blind date isn’t going to make her view me positively.” Howzer replies, “I sent someone else to go in my place. Identical faces and all.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re not identical, Captain.”

“Howzer.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s just us here, mesh’la. You can just call me by my name.”

You shake your head, “Fine. You’re not all identical, Howzer.” You repeat, emphasizing his name.

“You’ll find that most of the world doesn’t agree with you,” Howzer replies with a grin, his gaze locked on your face, “Have a seat, mesh’la. I’m not going to kick you out of my office.”

You sink into the chair across from him, “Did you have something you needed to talk about?” You ask.

“I like hearing you talk,” Howzer replies bluntly, grinning when a pale blush crosses your face, “So, mesh’la, what family event are you skipping?”

“Uh…a memorial.” You say quietly, “For my twin brother. Who died 14 years ago.”

“I’m sorry.” Howzer says quietly.

“No it…” you sigh, “It was a long time ago, and I’ve mostly made my peace with it.”

“Mostly?”

“My family blames me.” You explain, “Because I escaped and he didn’t.”

“Wait, wait. What do you mean escaped?” Howzer asks with a frown.

“Is this not in my file?” You counter, surprised.

“No, not at all.”

“Uh, right. Well…we were seven, and someone kidnapped us. I was missing for six months.” You shrug awkwardly, “It took me over a year to physically recover…and even longer to recover mentally.”

“And the man who took you?”

“Ah…never captured.”

“I’m sorry. That’s awful.” Howzer says quietly.

“Yeah, well…I survived. I’m the lucky one.” You shrug again, and absently fiddle with the hem of your shirt, “Anyway, todays the anniversary of the day I was found, and I prefer to spend the day working, rather than wallowing.”

“I can understand that,” Howzer agrees, “You want something to drink?”

“If you’re offering me the toxic caf from the break room-”

He laughs, “No. I have my own machine here. You want some?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He gets up to start the caf, and you turn to watch him, sitting in comfortable silence (you’ve always been comfortable around Howzer, which is weird since most people make you a little anxious), and then something catches your eye.

Howzer keeps a corkboard in his office, for when he has to plan campaigns. And you’ve just noticed that there’s something on the back of the board. “What’s this?” You ask as you get to your feet, “Are you planning a campaign, Howzer?”

He turns and winces when he sees you flipping the cork board, “It’s a case. I’ve been studying.”

You stare at the board, your fingers lightly trailing from posters of missing children, going back centuries, to case notes with interviews from the parents.

“All of the case files say the same thing,” Howzer says as he walks over and hands you a mug of caf, “The parents put their son to bed, and then, when they woke up, their son was gone.” He explains, “A lot of parents were arrested for the murder of their child. I don’t think the parents ever did it though.”

The pictures are layered on the board, due to how many there are, and you lift one of the pictures, and your breath catches. One of the pictures was of a little boy, with bright red hair, and missing his front two teeth. You knew that boy. He used to cry every night in Neverland…and he vanished on your second day in Neverland.

“It would be easier to solve if there were any witnesses,” Howzer says with a sigh, “Kids…kids don’t deserve this.”

You carefully lift more of the pictures, picking out faces of boys that you know, and recognize. “No one deserves this,” You say quietly, “What He does to those boys is…monstrous.”

Howzer hums, and then freezes, and turns to look at you, “He?”

“Yeah.” You fold your arms over your stomach, anxiety coiling though you, “Peter. His name is Peter.”

“How can you possibly-” Howzer turns to face you completely, and something like horror crosses his face, “You were taken by the man who did this?”

“Boy. Peter’s a boy. Or at least looks like a boy,” You correct absently, “And…yeah. I was.”

“I’ve looked into every missing child case in the last 100 years, and your name never crossed my desk,” Howzer mumbled.

“My parents reported us as runaways. It was only after I was found that people realized that we were kidnapped.” You rub your arms quickly, “And by that point it wasn’t a missing persons case anymore…it became a murder investigation. But no one ever asked me what happened.”

“No one?”

You shrug, “The police tried, but I was malnourished, badly injured, and severely traumatized. Everyone thought that the boy I was talking about was my brother.”

“This Peter…he hurt you?”

“No. He didn’t care about me. But when I was escaping I was attacked by a wild wolf,” You hesitate for a moment, and then take a step back and peel off your jacket, and then your shirt, leaving you in the thin tank-top you always wear under your clothes. You lift the tank top slightly, revealing the nasty scar on your abdomen.

“They couldn’t heal it?” Howzer asks as his fingers lightly brush the scar.

You shiver, “They tried, but…well, it didn’t want to heal at all. So they gave up on not it not scarring and settled for me not bleeding to death.”

He slowly pulls his hand away, though he remains closer to you than would normally be proper, “How did you escape?”

“A native. She pointed me in the right direction, and told me how to get out.” You reply as you look up at his face. You hesitate and nervously lick your lips, “The portal is still there, Howzer. And it’s big enough for a man to pass through.”

His gaze snaps to your face, “You’re sure?”

“I bought the land around the portal. I check on it weekly. I…I keep hoping that maybe another kid will fall out, but-”

“Why haven’t you gone back?” Howzer asks.

“I…by myself? I can’t. I…maybe that makes me a coward-”

“What if I go with you?” He places his hands on your shoulders, “What if I go with you to this Neverland. We can rescue what kids are there, and catch this Peter.”

“Peter’s dangerous, Howzer.”

He smiles at you, there’s a glimmer of something dangerous in his gaze, though it’s not directed at you. “So am I.”

You stare up at him, silent, “...okay. If you come with me, then…yeah. Just…make yourself look less soldier-y?”

“I can do that,” He says with a grin, as his thumbs rub soothing circles on your shoulders.

You hesitate for a moment, and then stand on your toes to brush your lips against his cheek, “Thank you, Howzer.”

His answering smile is small, and lazy, and his hands move just a little so he’s able to rub circles on the side of your neck, “Would you like to go get dinner?” He asks.

“Like…as friends?”

“Like, as a date.” He corrects with a sly grin.

Your jaw drops, “Oh. Um…yeah. Okay. I’d like that.” You manage to squeak out as your face flames red.

“Excellent. And then, tomorrow, we can get started on solving this case.”

You smile up at him, “That sounds like a plan to me.”

**************

The following morning, after a wonderful date that you didn’t want to end, you led Howzer to your small strip of property far outside the city. You’ve tended to the land as best you can, dedicating it to wildflowers and other wild plants, but even so, there’s no animals in the area.

It’s just dead silence.

“So this place is pretty,” Howzer notes as he follows you down a path that you made, “Creepy, somehow, but still pretty.”

“Mm. I think it’s the portal that makes it feel like that,” You reply over your shoulder, “The closer we get the less healthy the plants will become. You’ll see.”

“If you say so, mesh’la.” He replies, speeding up slightly and taking your hand in his. “Are you okay? You’re trembling.”

You thread your fingers with his, and squeeze his hand lightly, “Just nervous, Howzer.”

“Hey, I’m not going to let you get hurt.” He says.

“You might not have a choice.” You squeeze his hand again, and then lead him down a winding path that he wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t shown him.

True to what you said, the further away from the road you walked, the less healthy the plants became. Until you led him to a cave. Death seemed to snake out of the cave, leeching the life from the plants in the area around the cave.

“In there?” Howzer asked as he moved closer to the cave.

You wrap your hands around his forearm, and press yourself against his arm, “Yeah.” You whisper.

“What can I expect on the other side?”

“Um. It’ll look similar to this,” You say, “Lots of dead plants, and the sky will either be gray or brown. We’ll want to follow the river to get to the lake.”

“What are the odds that Peter will be there waiting for us?”

“None at all. He doesn’t…he’s unaware of this opening, or else he would have destroyed it.”

“Good to know,” Howzer murmurs, and then he turns to look at you properly, “You don’t have to come with me, mesh’la.” He very gently cups your face and tilts your head back so you’re looking up at him.

“I do though,” You reply as you finally release his arm and press your hands over his, “Let me come with you, please Howzer?”

His thumbs rub soothing circles on your cheeks, “How could I ever say no to you when you ask me so nicely?” His smile is slightly teasing, though he becomes serious after a moment, “I want you to stay close, mesh’la. No running off and playing the hero. And you’ll listen if I tell you to do something.”

You nod once.

His grip tightens, just a little, “I need to hear you say it, mesh’la.”

“I’ll listen and stay close,” You promise.

“Okay, good.” He quickly leans in and ghosts a kiss against your temple, before he releases you and takes your hand instead, and he tugs you towards the cave.

You walk through the dark cave, until the scent changes from musty cave, to rotten meat, and then there’s dim sunlight ahead of you and then you and Howzer step into Neverland.

It looks…exactly like you remember it. Dreary and bleak, and smelling of death and rot.

“...kids like this place?” Howzer asks, as he looks around. His gaze lingers on fallen, dead, trees, and then his gaze darts over to the water, which is so murky it almost looks black. 

“The closer they are to Peter the better it looks. As I understand it, this is far outside of Peter’s power.” You reply.

Howzer walks over to a fallen log and kicks it with one foot, and the log crumbles almost immediately, “And you navigated this at seven years old?”

“I was motivated.” You joke weakly. “The path should be easier now, though. I think it was always designed for adults.”

“Are there any adults here? Other than us?”

“I never saw any, but I’m not the best to ask.” You point at the water, “We should follow that back to the lake.”

“Yeah, alright.” He holds his hand out to you, and you immediately take it, and then he takes a good look at the water, and starts walking in the opposite direction it’s flowing.

It still takes several hours to make it to the lake, the path a lot easier with the longer legs of an adult…plus there being two of you. And without the animal attack that nearly killed you the first time, which had slowed you down a lot when you were originally trying to escape. 

“This is the lake?” Howzer asks.

“Yeah,” You lean lightly against him and motion to the center of the lake, “Look. There.”

In the center of the lake, sitting on a massive rock, is the same mermaid who helped you escape all those years ago. Still just as skeletal, her hair just as matted. Though, when she hears you, a grin crosses her ancient face.

She swims across the lake, and settles on a rock much closer to shore, “I knew you would return.” She says in her raspy voice, “And I knew that you would bring a friend.”

“I…this is Captain Howzer-” You start to explain, only for her to let out a delighted cackle, so suddenly that Howzer jerks you sharply behind him.

“A Military man,” She cackles, “How long has it been…?” She pins Howzer in place with a sharp look, “You are a soldier?”

“Yes ma’am,”

“Good, good.” Her tail flicks sharply, “Then hear me well. Peter has six boys with him right now. Of those six, only half will survive leaving Neverland.”

“What about the other three?” Howzer asks.

“It’s too late for them. By the time you reach them, Peter will have already claimed them.” The mermaid says, “But you can claim the other three.”

“Do you know where they are?” You ask.

“They are at the tree,” She replies, “You remember the one?”

You nod once.

“Good. You know the route from here. Neverland isn’t that big when you walk it as an adult.” Her smile is cruel, “As for stopping Peter…well, there’s no stopping him, not really. But you can trap him here in Neverland.” Her sightless eyes gleam.

“How do we do that?” Howzer asks.

“That’s not something you can do. No need to worry, you go and get those children, and I’ll handle everything else.” Her smile is sharp, and dangerous. 

You nervously tug on Howzer’s arm, “We should…we should hurry.” 

“Yeah. Yeah we should.” Howzer lightly motions for you to start walking, and he only turns to follow you when the mermaid retreats to the center of the lake.

All things considered, the task you and Howzer were given is simple. It is easy to find the tree, since you already know where it is, and it’s even easier to convince the children to come with you. They want to go home to their parents, and Howzer has a familiar face, a face that they know even if they don’t know him.

And even making the trip back to the exit is quick. The children are eager to follow you so they can go home, and they’re more than happy to accept help.

You pass by the lake, and the mermaid is gone.

You walk the long trail between the lake and the exit in several hours, and then you enter the cave, with the children in front of you, and Howzer in the very back.

As soon as you step foot back in the mortal realm, the three children collapse from exhaustion and hunger. You carefully carry one of the children up to the road, while Howzer carries the other two.

And then you gently tend to them in the shade of a massive tree while Howzer calls for aid. And after the authorities showed up, and Howzer answered questions while you helped the medics get the children into their transport, you settled yourself under a tree and let your head thump against the bark.

You watched as Howzer finished speaking to the authorities, including some of his younger brothers, and you watched as slowly, everyone who came at Howzer’s call slowly left, until it’s just you and Howzer.

And he turns and favors you with a warm smile, and he walks over and sits on the ground next to you. “So, that was fun.” Howzer says lightly as he turns his head to watch you.

“You have a weird definition of fun, Captain.” You reply as you turn your head to smile at him. 

“Maybe.” He agrees, “Do you think Neverland is cut off?”

“I dunno. I doubt we ever will.” You reply honestly, “Some things aren’t for people to know.”

“Yeah. I suppose that’s true.” Howzer replies. He’s quiet for a long moment, and then he flashes you a slightly sly smile, “You want to go get something to eat?”

“...are you asking me on another date, Howzer?”

“Absolutely.” His grin grows, “Eventually I’ll wear you down and I can ask you to be my girlfriend.”

You shake your head with a laugh, “Why don’t you just ask?”

“I think wooing you will be fun,” Howzer replies cheerfully, “So there’s going to be flowers, and dinner dates, and breakfast dates-”

“Oh, stars,” You break down laughing, feeling lighter than you have in years, “Howzer! I’ll be your girlfriend! Please don’t try to bring me on any breakfast dates.”

“But it’ll be fun! We can get up early and watch the sunrise. Of course this only works if you spend the night at my place-” He adds slyly.

“Oh, so this is you trying to get me to spend the night,” You reply with a grin.

“Eh, 50-50. I definitely want to be able to hug and kiss you whenever I want. But I also really want you in my bed. Or to be in your bed, I’m really not picky, mesh’la.” Howzer grins at you.

And you blush, “You’re awful.”

“And yet, you already agreed to be my girlfriend. So there’s clearly something about me you like.”

You glance at him, a teasing smile crossing your lips, “It’s your hair. You have fancy hair and it caught my attention.”

He tugs you against his side, and drapes his arm over your shoulder, “Hey, I’ll take it.” He ducks his head and brushes his lips against the corner of your lips, and you release a frustrated noise in the back of your throat. “Problem, mesh’la?” he asks, his lips curling into a grin against your skin.

“You should kiss me properly,” You reply.

“Mm. Should I?”

“Yes.”

“Well, if that’s what ner mesh’la wants,” He murmurs as he shifts ever so slightly and kisses you properly, deepening the kiss until he’s taken over everything that you are. And your arms come up to wrap around his neck as he pulls you closer, until you’re almost sitting on him. And then he breaks the kiss, “Like that?”

“Mm…I’m not sure. You should show me again.” You tease, slightly breathlessly.

“Greedy,” He teases right back, and then he seals his lips over yours again.

[pisoprano]

9 for the ask game

9. What is your favorite dialogue you’ve written so far?

My favorite line of dialogue is one that I won't be able to publish for a long ways off, so I'm not going to include it here, but here are a few bits from what's already been posted that I couldn't decide between, so you get them all:

Catwalker: Let us say, hypothetically, that Chat Noir was able to use your camouflage trick to transform into a completely different hero…  Would Ladybug allow him to come back?  If she still had no idea who he really was? Rena waves her hands dismissively. Rena Rouge: Changing his costume won’t stop anyone from recognizing him.  And even if it did… I don’t think Chat could return without it being too conspicuous that you got replaced out of nowhere. Catwalker places a hand on the back of his neck and gives a sheepish grin. Catwalker: I suppose the idea is rather absurd… Rena Rouge: It’s interesting on paper… but you should probably leave the convoluted plans to Ladybug.

This exchange is a personal favorite because of the irony of it all--Rena really has no idea of what is literally happening under her nose and dismissing it as impossible.

Catwalker: I was… around right before Adrien went missing… Catwalker looks away, holding his hands between his knees. Catwalker: I couldn’t help but notice that Adrien was deeply troubled by something, something he refused to disclose when asked.  But it was clear that he needed an escape… and that if I used my powers as Catwalker, I could provide the means of that escape. Ladybug: Then that means… Catwalker: I’m how he disappeared that night, yes. Catwalker looks down towards Ladybug, the hand in front of him leaning on one of the barriers between them. Ladybug: Do you know where he is now?  Please tell me that he’s okay. Catwalker: I’m sorry. I have every reason to think that he’s still alive, but if he was dead, I wouldn’t know.  He doesn’t intend to approach me in the future.  And ever since that night…?  The only person who knows how to locate 'Adrien Agreste’ is Adrien Agreste.

This bit was very tricky to get right, to make sure that everything Catwalker is saying is just barely true enough to get past the lie detector while painting himself as someone who doesn't know anything useful to know. I'm very satisfied with how well it ended up turning out.

Catwalker: I never wanted to hide behind a mask, especially not with you, Nino.  You’ve always encouraged me to be myself.  Even though I’ve never been able to fully show you everything I am, you accepted the ‘me’ I could give.  It meant so much to know that you cared, not just about the idea of me, but the real me.  And now I’m less 'me’ than I’ve ever been.  Maybe it would have been better if I did nothing. But when she tried to kill me, I just… ran.  Ran and insisted I was fine like I always do.  And now you’re the one paying for my rash decisions and I feel so powerless to stop it.  I hope one day you’ll forgive me. Catwalker places Carapace’s body upright and touches his back in a gesture of farewell. Catwalker: I wish I could talk to you for real.  But I can’t.  I can’t leave when I might be needed.  Even if everyone hates that I’m here, I’ve got to help however I can. Catwalker gives Carapace a fist bump in one final promise of their friendship. Catwalker: I’ll come home as soon as it’s safe again.  I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I promise I will come back.

This technically isn't dialogue since Catwalker's the only one talking, but the one thing I love more than characters lying to each other in ironic and/or clever ways is them opening up and showing everything they've always wanted to say but haven't been able to.

[writergirl3]

4 Town x Reader vs Flatpacks

So, after offering virtual moral support for my own IKEA flatback endeavors, @4townlove agreed to collab on this fun piece with me! It was so much fun, and we’ve actually already been brainstorming another fun scenario between you and 4 Town…

There’s a tiny bit of swearing in this, hope y’all don’t mind. And yes, it’s all T.

Without further ado, enjoy the pure chaos of 4 Town helping you move into your apartment! 🧡

“Thank you!”

Scribbling your signature on the proof of delivery and bidding the delivery guy farewell, you began shuffling the IKEA boxes inside.

Once all of the smaller ones were safely stowed inside, you eyed the 6ft cardboard package with contempt. Damn wardrobe. Why hadn’t your new apartment come with a fitted one?

After only a few moments of your best efforts- which were honestly pathetic- at moving the box, you heard a familiar voice just as the whole thing threatened to squish you.

“Whoa, whoa! Here,”

Z grabbed the cardboard with ease just before it toppled, his protective instincts towards you kicking in. You didn't even realise that you were in the brace position until he spoke again, “be careful.”

“Sorry, and thanks. Wouldn’t want ‘death by flatpack’ on my tombstone, would I?”

Z chuckled, jutting his head towards the door, reassuring you that he’d got the box and encouraged you to head inside. You had to admire his capability, lifting the thing like it weighed nothing.

Shutting the door behind him, you noticed that T had also arrived.

“YO, IT’S HERE, Y’ALL!”

“Jesus,” Z winced, “you think they got new sets of ears for me and Y/N in one of these boxes?”

T just rolled his eyes, “It’s my way of helping.”

“Did helping me carry the boxes never occur to you?” you cheekily quipped.

“Hey! You volunteered so that the delivery guy wouldn’t freak out and want photos ‘n shit.”

“Right, I forgot that your target audience is men in their mid-40s.”

“Shut up! I’m still proud that a freakin’ pensioner asked for my autograph.”

“That’s not something to be proud of, T.” Z sighed, having settled the largest box down.

Before T could begin a full-blown speech, the other guys finally emerged. Jesse eyed the boxes, “You brought all these in yourself, Y/N?”

“No, Z helped too.”

“So did I!”

“T, shut up.”

“Guys, guys!” Tae calmed the Aarons down, “Why don’t I make us all some tea?” Tae was no stranger to 4 Town’s flatpack endeavours, and knew well enough that some sort of soothing hot drink was a must to calm everyone down.

“Ew, no! Make mine hot chocolate,” T cut in, “tea is gross.”

“Kinda ironic that you hate tea.” Jesse hummed, referring to the brunette’s given nickname. The realisation earnt him a fist pump from Z, while you and Robaire chuckled.

“Right, Tae and Ro, you sort the drinks. The rest of us will unbox the packages.” you instructed. Someone had to take the lead with these guys, after all. Yes, it had been kind of them to help you move into your new place, but you could already foresee pure chaos.

T comedically saluted to you before dramatically ripping the nearest box to shreds. Jesse and Z went about it more methodically, while Tae and Robaire were happy to avoid the whole thing altogether.

One thing was for sure: this was gonna take a while.

⭐️

“That’s all the boxes. Who got the instructions?” Jesse wiped his forehead with his arm. Who knew that opening fifteen boxes would be tiring?

You scanned over the packages in front of you, trying to make sense of all the loose wooden fixtures. Annoyingly, there wasn't a pamphlet in sight. Z shrugged, also having the same problem.

“The instructions? Oh, I tore ‘em up, they’re in the trash.”

“T!” you collectively shouted, exasperated. Of course it was T, who else would it be?

“Yo, chill! Imma find the English ones.”

Z pinched the bridge of his nose and Jesse just gawked at the brunette. Tae and Robaire froze in the doorway, beverages in hand. All you could do was sigh, “T, there aren’t any English instructions. It’s IKEA.”

“Then how do we put the shit together?” T babbled, utterly clueless.

“The pictures. You use the pictures!” Jesse refrained from screeching, putting his head in his hands.

A wash of something akin to realisation swept over T’s features, and he snapped his fingers, startling everyone. Especially poor Tae, who nearly spilt tea all over himself.

“Well, we got two linguists in this group, right?” T proudly pointed out.

“T, I don’t speak Swedish.” Robaire immediately shut down the premise.

“Alright, alright, but what about Jesse?” T gestured to the blonde as though it were the most obvious suggestion in the world. Everyone looked to the Jesse, and then back to T.

“What about Jesse?” Z looked unimpressed.

“Jesse looks Swedish, so…” T faltered.

“Sorry, just to be clear, you assume I can speak Swedish because I’m blonde with blue eyes?”

“Yeah!”

“Not cool, bro.” Z deadpanned.

Everyone eyed T with exasperation. “T, you know I’m not Swedish!”

“You’re not?” T looked genuinely surprised, “Guess you learn somethin’ new every day.”

“Some of us have more to learn than others…” Tae sing-songed under his breath, setting the mugs down. T just scowled at him.

“My Dad’s family were from Russia, and my Mom’s Irish!” Jesse exasperatedly corrected.

“Aight! I didn’t ask for your family tree.” T held his hands up in surrender, and it was now Jesse’s turn to look irked.

You were starting to feel that way, too, and clapped your hands together like an elementary school teacher. “Right! Enough about Jesse’s heritage, we need to figure out a way of getting those instructions back.”

“I’ll look online.” Robaire sensibly offered, heading off to the computer. He dodged T as the brunette began to use one of the pieces of cardboard as a skateboard. Tae grabbed T, shoving his hot chocolate into his tanned hands to distract him.

“God, I’m gonna need something stronger than tea by the end of this.” Jesse flopped on the ground, his blonde hair lacking its usual golden sheen.

“Nothing is stronger than the almighty T!” Aaron T quipped, hot chocolate froth coating his top lip, which had turned upwards into his signature grin.

Z just sighed and raised an eyebrow, already fed up with his name twin's jokes.

You chuckled, wondering if surrendering to delirium would make this whole process simpler. For now, the tea would suffice.

“Aight, I printed the instructions off,” Robaire reemerged, “no one let T near them.”

“Rude.”

“Can we just start now?” you raked a hand through your hair and Jesse agreed.

Robaire directed everything, organising some sort of procession line. Z was put in charge of the heavy lifting, Jesse deciphered instructions, and you organised all the bolts and screws. Robaire assigned himself the job of fixing everything in place.

“Why don’t I get a job?” T whined, earning him deadpanned expressions from everyone, including you. He just shrugged, content with his hot chocolate as he went back to sipping the sweet drink.

“Tae, you wanna do something?” you sweetly offered while Z passed you your tea.

“No thanks! I’m good over here.” the faux blonde declined, wringing his hands in anxious anticipation.

You smiled over at him before passing Robaire the nails for the new bookshelf. Scanning your eyes over the somewhat-orderly room, you set your hands on your hips confidently.

How hard could this be?

6 hours later

"i cant believe... we lost.... to a flat pack...." Aaron T wheezed, the bags under his eyes finally becoming pronounced as he collapsed to his hands and knees, panting with exhaustion.

Robaire was sat with his head in his hands on the couch, Jesse trying to deny their failure by insisting with a weak and delirious laugh, "C-Come on guys.. I'm sure theres.... there must be another page we haven't-"

"No." Z cut in dryly, staring at the ceiling fan and getting lost in the hypnotic whirring of the arms til he couldnt feels his limbs anymore. "We just failed."

Taeyoung was trembling with fatigue, his arms as heavy as lead at his sides as he panted, "W-well.. at least it's upright...right?"

and as if a wind of poetic justice blew its way through the apartment, the frames began to tilt and as all your eyes widened, the whole wobbling shelf keeled over and crashed back to the carpet for the 27th time.

silence hung in the stale air like an odour, so thick breathing was uncomfortable. you, staring into your empty teacup beside Robaire, barely had the strength to look at he failed attempt, but the more you sat in that silence, pondering the possibility of a swedish furniture store conquering the best of all boybands, a smile pushed into your jaw.

Jesse, finally progressing to the next stage of grief, let the loose and crinckled instruction manual slip from his calloused fingertips, his blue eyes bloodshot and knees quivering.

T choked out between stiff breaths, "A- *sniff* a-at least we... we tried our... *sob sob* our best and... and worked... at least we worked as a team!!!!"

Z rolled his eyes into the back of his head and shut them for a moment, frustration silently coiling in his mind. but you were snickering now.

how absurd this all was, to think that IKEA had defeated you, had drained all attempts at being handy while having all the tools to make handiness seem easier.

"Oh my god..." you chuckled under your breath, your surprising amusement now audible enough to get Robaire's attention. blinking out of his pensive state, he turned to you, grinning at your strange reaction. "....Y/N?"

"Uh oh." Z muttered without having to open his eyes, though a very faint smile lifted to his lips. "I think we did it, guys."

"W-what?" Taeyoung sniffed, only then realising his eyes had been pooling with pearlescent tears, but pushing them away from the back of his hand, your trembling shoulders came into view and he frowned.

"Y/N?" and then, to make the situation even more out of the ordinary, a soft rolling chuckle began to rise from the back of Aaron Z's throat. slapping a hand over his eyes, it grew, swelling as it fed on the stale air of the sunset-lit apartment that held an aroma of dust and sweat and cold coffee. "We finally did it."

then Jesse started. though he was staring at the wall in slow acceptance of his grief, he shook and began to laugh also.

the concern of 4*Town's leader tightened his eyebrows into a frown but his full lips continued to stretch into a bemused smile. carefully taking the cold mug from your hands as you threw your head back, he placed a hand on your shoulder and asked again, "Hey... what happened?"

"We broke them." Z chortled, rolling onto his side as his laugh billowed into the room. and you, clutching your stomach as the events of the chaotic, desperate day repeated over and over in your minds eye, only fell back onto the bed, wheezing as you finally coughed out, "W-we... AHAHAHA! we got... the one thi-ing... that defeated 4Town... was a damn flatpack bookshelf!! I can't believe this!" and once the words were out, the insanity of the situation finally cleared the atmosphere.

it was Jesse that cackled out next, his blonde hair gleaming in the flittering light of the amber setting sun. and then Taeyoung, whose fatigue slowly slipped into delirium when he glimpsed Aaron T still genuinely crying as he stared at the nuts and bolts and torn instruction manual between his brown hands. "Y-You..." the young Korean snickered, "T, you... you threw away... the instructions... before we'd even started-"

"I WAS HELPING TO CLEAN UP!" T wailed, his tawny eyes swimming and overflowing with tears, and hearing that was enough to erupt the apartment.

You, Robaire, Jesse, Taeyoung and Aaron Z exploded. laughter mixed with the confused and overwhelmed hiccuping of T until you were all rolling around uncontrollably, gently pounding fists into the cream carpet and collapsing.

yes the day had been stressful and draining, but being with the guys, laughing and bickering and sipping sombre cups of tea over the magnitude of your collective confusion had made the day one to remember. through your blurry eyes, wiping away the tears of your pure delight, you looked at them all in the light of the setting sun, their smiles shining just as bright, or even more so.

your heart swelled as you watched Jesse finally let himself lie down after standing or pacing for hours on end, you watched Taeyoung and Aaron Z take T in their arms and comfort his seemingly honest sadness, and Robaire who met your gaze with such warmth as he laughed, "I'll never forget this. I'm certain. IKEA flatpack furniture is going to haunt my nightmares forever now."

"Same" you giggled, sighing deeply and resting your head on the black lead singer's shoulder. "I love you guys...." and then the room was tender again.

the calm settled over the dust and static film the plastic wrapping had left on every surface and stuck to your palms; the other members slowly regained their sanity enough to look at you and each other, a mutual gentle appreciation for everyone in the room shimmering like glitter in the sunset. and then your stomach growled, and your grin returned, sharp and cutting.

"As much as I do love you all too," Jesse began as he pushed himself to sit up, his brain finally recallibrating to return him to the sensible caretaker of the group. "We havent had anything today besides coffee so... how about pizza?"

"All the pizza?" Tae perked up, eyes bowls of starlight. and the other blonde nodded, winking kindly at the young member. "All the pizza. My place is free tonight so we can have a sleepove-"

"I'm sorry for throwing away the instructions!" T blurted out. "If i'd known they had the instructions on them i wouldnt have, i swear!"

You and Robaire exchanged glanced before falling into gentle giggling again, all before you pushed yourself to stand on aching legs. "Yeah we definitely need food. Let's just... get our things and head out. We'll sort out the bookshelf later."

"hey T?" Z muttered, crouching in front of his namesake with a comforting hand on his back. T pushed his hands over his face and looked up at the other, "Hm?" Z grinned and nodded his head towards you as he explained, "Y/N says it's pizza time."

a quiet heartbeat passed before, in an instant, Aaron T was on his feet, springing up like a jack in the box with a smile as wide as the sky as he exclaimed, "HELL YEAH!" and grabbing Taeyoungs hand, raced out the door.

"Don't forget your backpack!" Jesse called after them, picking them up and hurrying after the two youngest. Robaire followed soon after, shaking his head in soft amusement and then it was just you and Z.

with a slow breath, you looked at him and he looked at you. you shared a tender smile before he threw his arm around your shoulder and muttered as you walked out and locked the apartment door behind you, "T was right though... at least we worked together."

"Yeah," you agreed, heart full of warmth. "We did."

⭐️

Musing Meaninglessly Masterlist

[myhandisfatemywordislaw]

Inspector, Second Class, Status: Deceased

new fic! lyf is dead, marius is sad about it, Jonny comforts him. plus some bonus eldritch horror! you can find it here on ao3, or below the cut. if you enjoy it, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Even Jonny had been slightly disturbed by what was left of Inspector Second Class, Lyfrassir Edda - eyes twisting into fractals, seeming to expand and multiply as a thousand pupils, now dead and lifeless, still bored into him, frozen in silent terror. Instead of blood, what dripped from the deep, arcing lacerations across their body and pooled on the floor was a constantly shifting rainbow of liquid that gave him a headache if he looked at it for more than a few moments. Warped and twisted bone fragments jutted out through their skin, and the entire bottom half of their face was consumed by hundreds of jagged, cracked, razor-sharp teeth that gave way to a gaping maw, black and empty as the void. The longer he looked, the wider the pit of blackness seemed to be, and his head swam with vertigo, feeling as though he was going to fall in.

The slightly off-balance feel Jonny had seemed to melt away in an instant when he saw Marius, face twisted in a devastating mix of grief and horror, frozen in place, and Jonny knew he had to get Marius out. He made little shocked keening noises in the back of his throat and seemed to have forgotten how to move, so Jonny scooped him up into his arms and gently carried him back to the Aurora, settling down into Jonny’s bed.

At some point Marius started crying, his face quickly becoming red and splotchy as he sobbed brokenly into Jonny’s chest. Jonny rubbed his back in small circles and carded his fingers gently through Marius’ hair, and he quieted slightly, leaning into the touch as tears still flowed freely down his face. Marius’ metal hand gripped Jonny’s shirt tightly enough to risk tearing it, and Jonny gently coaxed him to uncoil it, holding Jonny’s hand instead.

“Do you think-“ Marius began, sniffling loudly and taking deep gasping breaths. “Do you think it hurt?”

Marius was obviously not prepared to face the answer. But Jonny knew lying was pointless.

“Yeah. I think it probably hurt,”

“Do you think they were scared?”

Jonny nodded, before remembering Marius wasn’t looking at him, and cleared his throat. “Yeah, they must have been scared,”

“Do you think, maybe if we’d been there earlier, could we have- could we have saved them?” Marius let out a gasping sob.

“No. No, I don’t think we could have saved them.”

Marius let out a wail of despair and grief. Apparently that hadn’t been the answer he was looking for. Jonny gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Marius returned the gesture, his hand seeming to spasm slightly, and Jonny tried to hold back a gasp of pain as several bones in his fingers crunched audibly under Marius’ iron grip. Marius pulled his hand back quickly, as though he’d been burned, but his fingers caught in Jonny’s and a few of them yanked out of their sockets with a sickening pop.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry-“ Marius muttered under his breath, pulling his hand back into his stomach and curling his body around it, as though to stop himself from using it. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-“

“It’s fine, Marius,” Jonny said softly, wincing slightly as he flexed his broken hand. He stroked Marius’ hair lightly with his other hand.

“I hurt you,” Marius whispered, almost disbelievingly. “Like I hurt Lyf. I should’ve, I should’ve made them come with us when we left, I should’ve taken them away so they’d be safe,”

“No, Marius. You didn’t hurt Lyf,” Jonny said softly. “And you know they’d never agree to leave, not until they’d watched the Black Box to the very end.”

“Then- then we should have kidnapped them, to keep them safe.”

“You know that wouldn’t make either of you happier.”

“I just want them to be okay,” Marius whispered, voice choked with emotion.

“I know. I know. It’s alright,”

Marius leaned into him, nudging him gently so they lay flat on the bed, Marius still curled into Jonny’s chest. Eventually his tears subsided, and he fell asleep, snoring softly, and Jonny felt the vibrations in his heart.

[a-lonely-dunedain]

39 for ethedis?

39 Avoiding a conversation.

Isengard sure is the Situation that keeps on Situation-ing huh! even long after your characters have left and are Safe. (: Ethedis has decided that, no she would rather not process her trauma tonight, thank you very much.

She didn’t like to talk about it, about Isengard. 

None of them did, understandably, but her case was for slightly different reasons. 

It wasn’t because she had endured torments any more terrible, quite the opposite in fact, and that was the problem. Between Tossir and Lothrandir’s efforts to draw the ire of their captors –in true ranger fashion– Ethedis had gotten off lightly, compared to them at least. 

Which wasn’t saying much all things considered, but it was enough for some part of her deep down to think she had no right to complain. She didn’t have it as bad as them after all, it wouldn’t be worth troubling anyone over. It would be more selfish than anything.

Her friends’ concern was better spent elsewhere, she thought, though she still flinched when someone moved a little too quickly around her. It’s not worth the worry, she thinks, even as her mind still wanders to dark rooms and laughing uruks when she walks past a smithy and sees the red-hot iron and feels the heat of the forge.

But now, after the end of the war, she found that Corunir’s worry, once pulled in a million different directions, had precious little else to focus on besides a single point named ‘Ethedis’

Somehow, that just made her feel worse.

Corunir could tell plainly that her heart was troubled despite the end of the war, but always she would dismiss it as something mundane. Just being tired or something like that. She could tell he wasn’t buying it, but she still didn’t wish to tell him about it. The last thing he needs is to be burdened with such things, she thinks, as if her wellbeing is a burden.

Now she wanders aimlessly through the gardens of the upper city, stolen from their bed at some unholy hour by dreams she would rather not recall.

“Ethedis, are you feeling alright—?” Corunir almost startles her.

“Of course, never better!” She replies a little too quickly to be convincing, smile a little too wide to be genuine.

“I see…” the concern is evident on his face, guilt writhes in her stomach. “Just wondering why you happen to be up at such an odd hour then”

“I merely wished to enjoy the fresh night air” she assures cheerfully. It wasn’t really a lie, she found the starlight and cricket songs soothed her anxious mind, a little bit at least. But she had neglected to mention that part, even though she knew it’s what Corunir’s question was really getting at.

“Well, care if I join you then?” he moves to walk beside her.

“Oh, don’t let me keep you up-”

“Please, I insist” she’s not getting out of it that easily “I wouldn’t want to return to bed without you anyway.”

“…sorry to have woken you.” She wishes she hadn’t made so much noise fumbling around their room for her robe before she left.

“Think nothing of it. If I valued sleep over your wellbeing I would not be out here.” he says plainly.

“My wellbeing? I assure you everything is fine.” She insists. Lies, actually.

They stop near one of the fountains, its gentle music filling the silence as Corunir searches for the right words.

“If I may be so bold…” he eventually says “I think I have known you long enough to tell a genuine smile from one that is forced. And I have seen more of the former and less of the latter as of late. Something is troubling you, isn’t it?” His tone is gentle and not at all accusatory, yet somehow Ethedis still feels cornered.

Just her, Corunir, and the Mûmakil in the room she would rather not address.

“…is it that obvious?” she asks a little sheepishly

“Maybe not to everyone, but I’ve… developed an eye for such things, you might say. Is it one of your wounds again? We may want to have a healer take a look-”

She shakes her head “No no, it isn’t that. The healers have tended to them well, I hardly feel them anymore, and when I do it is quite manageable.” Almost a lie, technically the truth. It was indeed old wounds bothering her, but not of the physical sort and not from the Morannon.

“I’m just… worried about Tossdir, that’s all.” There was plenty of truth in that statement, though not the whole of it. It seemed enough to convince Corunir at least, and he gives her an understanding nod with a thoughtful hum. 

Tossdir wasn’t in the city anymore, as he had escaped serious injury in the Morannon and grew restless knowing some foes may still lurk in the corners of Dagorlad and Ithilien. As far as Ethedis and Corunir knew, he was still there with Faeron, helping the Rangers of Ithilien rout out what scattered foes lingered in their lands.

“I’m worried too, but it will do him no good for us to lose sleep over it. He’s not out there alone after all, he will have plenty of capable friends there to watch out for him.” He puts a comforting arm around her shoulder, Ethedis just breathes a small sigh of relief for the fact that he’s no longer asking well-intentioned questions she doesn't know how to answer. She leans into him a little bit. “And besides, it’s not as if he’s actually gone to Mordor. Just… a little too close to it for comfort.” He seemed to be speaking to reassure himself just as much as Ethedis. “But he will be fine, I am sure of it.”

“Hmm, you’re probably right...” Ethedis just stands there under his arm for a little bit, wishing she felt brave enough to be honest with him.

But what good would it do either of them if he knew? some part of her thought it might feel better to talk about it, but was it worth it? Worth burdening Corunir with the memories that tormented her so? the beatings and the fire and the torture- No, no it wasn't worth it. She should keep that to herself, she survived it after all, she will be fine. She has to be.

"Well! we should probably head back now." she announces rather abruptly before pulling away. Corunir looks a little taken aback, but follows her back to the guest-house.

"Of course... just, if there's anything else-" "I will tell you, don't worry."

[specialagentlokitty]

Mr Evershed x Student!reader - ghost

Part 12:

You thought carefully for a moment before you took a deep breath.

“I want to stay with Mr Evershed because.. well.. aside from Thomas I’ve never had someone care for me the way he does.”

He looked at the two lawyers.

“He takes care of me, and he teaches me things too, not just at school. He taught me how to do my own washing, and how to iron my uniform, because the first time I did it I burned my shirt.”

A few people laughed, and so did Mr Evershed, nodding his head a little bit.

“My whole life I spent it trying to make people proud who would never be proud of anything I ever did. No matter how hard I tried nothing would’ve ever been good enough for them.”

You took a small breath.

“I spent my whole life scared and hurt and living in pure fear. And when they left it was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I know I made mistakes, and I really am sorry for those mistakes I made.”

You glanced at your brother then back to the lawyers.

“I… I learned a three things that day…”

The lawyers looked at you.

“And what were they?” Your parents lawyer asked.

You looked at your parents.

“That.. I was never going to let anyone see they had hurt me. If they were only going to see me as trouble, that’s what I was going to be.”

“And the third thing?” Your lawyer asked.

You took a deep breath.

“I would never let anyone get close to me again. I would never trust anyone to care for me apart from Thomas.”

They nodded.

“Then what changed? Do you trust Mr Evershed?

You looked at the teacher and you smiled a little when your gaze met his.

“Yeah. Yeah I do.” You nodded.

He smiled at you.

You turned back to the lawyers.

“I.. I didn’t feel safe with him at first. I didn’t feel safe with anyone but my brother, and I kept trying to push him away but he wouldn’t. I thought he’d hurt me, but he didn’t.”

The two lawyers smiled.

“He makes my lunch for me everyday, and he sits with me if I’m sad, and.. and he hugs me. I didn’t know you could hug someone and feel so.. so safe.”

You shuffled a little on your feet.

“I walked through hell because of my parents, and I thought I would stay in that hell for the rest of my life. That I wouldn’t ever amount to anything.”

You looked back at Mr Evershed and you smiled brightly.

“He taught me that I wasn’t going to be stuck there forever, that it just takes some time to get out from that pit. And that there will be people who help me.”

You turned back to the lawyers again.

“I don’t have to be someone I’m not with Mr Evershed. I don’t have to be scared of doing something wrong, or making a mistake or forgetting something. He’ll help me.”

The lawyers both nodded their heads, and you wiped a few tears from your face.

“He reassured me when I was scared and alone, and he gave me something I never thought I would have. A safe place. Mr Evershed is my safe place.”

You turned to him again.

“I feel safe with Mr Evershed, i.. I don’t want to leave that. I don’t want to leave his care. I don’t care about what my parents did to me in the past.. because.. because when I’m with Mr Evershed I know I’m safe, and I know nothing bad is going to happen.”

“Thank you (Y/N), you can sit down. As with you Thomas.”

You let your brother go first, and Mr Evershed brought his wheelchair over for him, and helped him sit down in it.

Then you left the stand and you began to make your way over only to have someone grab your arm.

“This is our child! You seriously can’t let some random guy take him!” Karen yelled.

“Let them go this instance or I’ll have you arrested right here!” The judge snapped.

Mr Evershed snapped his head up and he walked over, gently taking your arm, he looked at your mother.

“Let them go.” He said.

“You’re not taking them! We can still fix whatever you’ve done!” She yelled.

The guard walked over and pulled her away from you and Mr Evershed stood in front of you, his back to your mother as he rolled up your sleeve, looking at the slight redness of your skin.

He looked at you.

“Are you alright…?” He asked quietly.

You were breathing deeply and he nodded his head, gently leading you back over to your side of the courtroom.

Mr Evershed sat you down on the chair and crouched down in front of you.

“Breathe, close your eyes. It’s alright, I’m here.” He whispered.

You looked at him and nodded your head, closing your eyes you took a deep breath and he smiled.

“That’s it. A few more.”

You did as he said, and you calmed down a little bit and opened your eyes again, and he stood up, placing a hand on top of your head.

“You did amazing.” He whispered.

He sat down next to you and let you grip his blazer tightly, and you all looked up at the judge.

“One more stupid move out of you two and you’ll be thrown behind bars faster than you can blink.” The judge warned.

Your parents both grumbled and the lawyers seemed a bit lost on what to do after the commotion.

“Mr Evershed, will you take the stand please.” Your parents lawyer asked.

He nodded and stood up, letting you sit on his chair and he passed your hand to Thomas who held it tightly.

He walked up and stood on the stand again.

“If (Y/N) was in your care, would you look after them, treat them as your own child?” Your lawyer asked.

“Absolutely I would. They would be treated with the upmost respect and kindness that they deserve to be treated with.”

“Would you agree to keep them in your care?” Your parents lawyer asked.

“Yes, I would foster them, adopt them, whatever it is they wanted, that goes for Thomas as well.”

“You’d care for the brother as well?” You parents lawyer asked confused.

“Absolutely if that’s what he wanted yes. He’s important to (Y/N), and he also deserves a better household. I’m aware he’s already an adult, but he’s still young.”

The lawyer nodded his head.

“You care about them, don’t you?” Your lawyer asked.

Mr Evershed looked over at you and he smiled.

“I do. They’re a really good kid, and they’re really trying their hardest to get through everything and process everything. I don’t want to just leave that progress and give it all up.”

The lawyer nodded her head.

“No more questions your honour.” You lawyer said.

“And you?”

“That’s it.” Your parents said.

The judge nodded his head.

“Right, everyone aside from the lawyers, the detective and the social worker please wait outside.”

You all left, and while you, Thomas and Mr Evershed sat on one side, your parents sat on the other side, a wall of soldiers blocking them from seeing you.

Mr Evershed crouched in front of you, resting his arms on his legs.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your back..?” He asked softly.

“Because I didn’t want you to be sad or worried about it..” you mumbled.

Mr Evershed sight a little, giving you a small smile.

“I’m always going to be worried about you. How long ago was it?”

“The last one.. just before my parents left…”

He nodded his head and stood up, sitting next to you.

“That’s not happening again. I promise.”

You nodded your head and turned to look at Thomas who was sitting on the bench next to you, running a hand up and down his leg.

“Are you okay..?”

Thomas turned to look at you.

“I’m alright kid, don’t you worry. I’ll be as good as new in no time.”

You nodded and looked at his legs.

“What happened?”

“Nothing too bad, a small injury. That’s all.”

You nodded again and looked at him, and he sighed, holding his arm out you shuffled over and rested yourself against your brothers side.

“I promise I’m okay (Y/N) and you’re going to be okay too…”

“What if I’m not…?” You whispered.

“You will be because you’re stronger than I could ever be.” Thomas whispered back.

Your brother rested his head on yours and you all sat there anxiously waiting to be called in.

And when you were, you waited for everyone to go in, and you made it about halfway through when you stopped.

“(Y/N)?” The judge asked.

Everyone turned to looked at you and Thomas and Martin shared a look.

“Help them Martin.. please..” Thomas whispered.

Mr Evershed walked over and stood in front of you.

“You’re alright..” he whispered.

You shook your head.

“I’m not… I’m scared…”

Mr Evershed nodded his head.

“I know you’re scared, you’ve got every reason to be scared, but listen to me, okay?”

You nodded and he smiled gently down at you.

“Everyone gets scared sometimes, but there’s no shame in being scared (Y/N). Being afraid is alright, because fear is what makes us human. It can make you do things you never knew you could do.”

You looked up at him.

“You’ve been scared for a long time, and that’s okay. But you don’t have to run away, not while Thomas is here, while I’m here.”

You looked at the door and he walked around, standing in the way so you couldn’t see it.

“Don’t run.”

“I can’t do this…”

Mr Evershed nodded his head.

“You can, okay? You can.”

You looked back to the judge then back to him.

“You’ve got to be brave.” He said softly.

You shook your head.

“I don’t know if I can be this brave…”

“Whatever happens, wherever they send you, you have to be brave, okay? Promise me you’ll be brave. Because you can be, you’ve been so, so brave so far, and you’ve done so well. And I’m so proud of you, just be brave for a little longer.”

He held out his hand and you looked at him.

“Do you trust me?” He whispered.

You looked up at him, and slowly you nodded.

“Then trust me on this, okay?”

You reached out and gave him your hand.

“Okay…”

He smiled and brought you over to the table, sat you down then sat down himself.

“I must admit it was a rather easy decision we have made.” The judge said.

You looked up at them anxiously and Thomas took your hand, holding it tightly.

“The care and safety of (Y/N) is my main concern, and as it stands I do not believe that they are safe in the care of Andrew and Karen. Therefore, (Y/N) and Thomas if he so wishes, will be placed in the care of Mr Evershed as a foster placement.”

You turned to Mr Evershed and he smiled at you.

Everyone aside from your parents cheered and clapped.

Getting up, you tackled him into a hug, and he laughed, hugging you back tightly.

“You can’t! That’s not fair! That’s our kid!” Andrew yelled.

“And you two are being arrested for a long list of charges so sit back down Mr (L/N)!”

Mr Evershed had to fill in some papers, so you were taken to the hallway to wait for him and the detective stood in front of you.

“Will you behave now? No more parties or anything?” She asked.

“I promise no more.”

She nodded.

“You’re a good kid, congratulations.”

She held out her hand and you shook it and she left, then you sat down in front of Thomas and looked at him.

“Will you stay with Mr Evershed too?” You asked.

“Unfortunately I’ve got to head back to hospital, but I can stay a night.”

You smiled brightly and nodded your head, and you excitedly told you brother everything you had been doing here in Ackley.

Thomas happily listened to everything you were telling him.

“Been up to a lot haven’t you?” He chuckled.

You nodded your head.

“Oh oh and we’re gonna throw you a huge party when you can come home.”

“Does Martin actually know about the party this time?” Thomas grinned.

You rolled your eyes at him.

“He does because he came up with it.” Mr Evershed said.

You both turned to the door and you stood up.

“We’re all ready to go, you’ll be in my care for as long as you want, and Thomas it’s up to you if that’s hay you want or not.”

“Thank you Martin, honestly I can’t thank you enough. If you don’t mind I’d like to stay tonight but I have to leave tomorrow.”

“Yeah of course you can stay. Absolutely.”

You three made your way back to Mr Evershed’s and you excitedly showed Thomas around and he smiled as he watched you.

Mr Evershed came in and set your bag by the door and looked at you.

“Go get out of that suit, hang it up and come back down alright?”

“Yeah!”

You ran away and he smiled as he watched you go.

Thomas shuffled over and leant against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Words can’t express how thankful I am for what you’ve done, what you’re still doing. If it weren’t for you god knows what they’d be doing right now, you’ve really saved them.”

Mr Evershed smiled a little, shaking his head.

“I’ve not saved them, they’ve done that themselves. They saved themselves.”

“And you’ve played a huge part in that.”

Thomas glanced up the stairs before turning back to Mr Evershed.

“You’ve really done something amazing here, you’ve brought a whole side of (Y/N) I haven’t seen since we were just kids.”

Mr Everhsed looked at Thomas.

“I’m sorry for what you both went through.”

“Don’t be, it wasn’t your fault. All we can do is learn how to work through the pain.”

Mr Evershed nodded his head.

“Well, when you get out of the hospital you come straight here, we’ll get you sorted with a room and everything.”

Thomas grinned and nodded his head.

“That sounds good, thanks Martin.”

You can running back down the stairs and stood in front of them both.

Mr Evershed smiled, tugging at the hoodie you were wearing.

“I told you to stop taking them.”

“Well it was with my washing so it’s mine.”

You grabbed your brothers hand and led him through to the living room and Mr Evershed shook his head, making his way up the stairs to give you two some peace.

He’d won.

He had managed to keep you safe and managed to win the case against your parents.

You were safe.

And he was going to keep it that way

[pengychan]

[The Great Ace Attorney] A Case of Identity - Ch. 9

Summary: On that fateful night in Lowgate cemetery, the bullet finds its target in Enoch Drebber. When he awakens he’s locked behind an iron mask, facing a lifetime of imprisonment as the mass murderer who survived a botched execution - the Professor. However, help is afoot. Characters: Enoch Drebber, Esmeralda Tusspells, Herlock Sholmes, Yujin Mikotoba, Tobias Gregson, Gina Lestrade, Mael Stronghart Rating: T Prologue and all other chapters will be tagged as ‘case of identity’ on my blog.

A/N: Is this update late? Yes. Do I have excuses? No. Sorry, guys.

***

“I don’t know nuttin’. I ain’t no diver.”

“You bragged about being the best diver in the East End not five minutes ago.”

“I lied.”

“Uuuugh.”

As Gina Lestrade stuffed yet another buttered crumpet in her mouth - Sholmes had added a generous dollop of honey on each, for good measure, before disappearing in the kitchen - Inspector Gregson seemed remarkably close to tearing his own hair out. Mikotoba half-expected him to explode, but he seemed to be making an herculean effort to remain calm. 

Well. Relatively calm. Mikotoba suspected the man had not been entirely calm a single day in his life, at least since joining Scotland Yard.

“Gina, you are not in trouble,” Mikotoba said, Iris safely asleep in the crook of his arm. The statement gained him a doubtful look; the child seemed still unsure, although hot tea and crumpets had done a lot to lower her guard. Come to think of it, she must have been ravenously hungry; who knew when she’d last had a proper hot meal. 

“You said the’ Yard’s lookin’ for me,” the girl replied, eyes turning back to the sketch on the small table before the armchair she was huddled on. She couldn’t read what was written on it, but she could recognize her face, and she could tell what it meant - she was a wanted person across London. 

“... Well. You may be in trouble with Scotland Yard, sure enough, but you are safe here and we’re going to help you. Most of all, we want to understand why they’re looking for you. The Inspector here has a theory, and--”

“You brought me ‘ere,'' Gina cut him off, turning to look at Gregson, narrowing her eyes. She seemed wary, but most of all confused. “If you’re from the Yard, why hide me?”

Gregson set his jaw a moment before answering. “The Lord Chief Justice wouldn’t start a large-scale manhunt for a simple diver, sunshine. Something about all this smells off.”

“Like th’ fish in your pocket?”

“Yes, sort of-- how do you know what’s in my pockets?”

“I checked. While you carried me.”

Gregson’s face flushed red. “I thought you were barely conscious!”

She seemed awfully pleased by the reaction. “I was.”

“Then how--”

“I’m the best diver in all of th’ East End. Cleanin’ pockets in my sleep.”

“So you admit you’re a diver!”

“... Maaaaybe.”

Gregson leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Well, sunshine. Maybe you took something from the pockets of the wrong man, and maybe this someone is the most powerful individual in London bar the Queen and the Prime Minister, and maybe he’s determined to get to you so he can have it back. So maybe, if you came clean and told us what it is, we may be able to help you out of this mess. What do you say?”

Gina looked back at him, and the self-satisfied expression faltered. Mikotoba could see the realization sinking in: she was in over her head into something much bigger than herself, and no amount of pickpocketing skills and disappearing acts in dimly-lit alleys was going to be enough to get her out of it. She looked down, and swallowed. “I--”

“LUNCH!” 

The kitchen door was thrown open and Sholmes came in, surrounded by a frankly concerning amount of smoke. He was carrying four plates in precarious balance, each of them full of horribly burnt sausages and eggs.

Gregson groaned. “Sholmes, we’re trying to--”

“Can’t solve a case on an empty stomach!” Sholmes declared, putting down the plates. “Isn’t that right, my good doctor?”

Mikotoba, who had precisely no intention to put anything cooked by Sholmes in his mouth - a sentiment shared by Gregson, going by the look on his face - nodded. “Of course. But the crumpets were quite enough for me, I believe they’ll see me through until dinner tim--”

“I’ll have his part,” Gina said, and unceremoniously snatched the plate. To Sholmes’ obvious delight she dove in, shoving food in her mouth without a single comment on how badly burned it was. It would have been an amusing sight, if not for the thought that crossed Mikotoba’s mind again.

How long has she truly gone without a filling meal?

“See, that’s the spirit,” Sholmes grinned, and sat across from her. “Perhaps you’re in a better mood for conversation now that your hunger is being sated?”

Gina looked over, chewing on some sausage. She seemed to debate whether to respond for a moment, then shrugged. “... So if I stole somethin’ important, why do you want it? Why not let Lord Whatshisface have it?”

“You see, Miss Lestrade,” Sholmes said with a smile, putting more woefully burnt scrambled eggs on her plate from Gregson’s own untouched one. “We believe the Lord Chief Justice has done something quite horrible to an innocent man - leaving him to languish in prison for crimes he did not commit.”

Gina frowned, and stuck another forkful of food in her mouth before speaking through it. “Wot’s that to do wit’ me?”

“We believe that whatever you… relieved him of that day at the docks is crucial evidence of his misdeed; at least, the timing and circumstances suggest so. That is likely why he’s so desperate to have it back. Now, if we could get our hands on it instead, we could make sure he’s exposed and the man he wronged is released from prison. It would be vital evidence.”

Gina Lestrade rolled her eyes, but had the good grace to swallow her mouthful of burnt egg before she scoffed. Loudly. “You’re bein’ funny just now,” she muttered, causing Gregson to frown. 

“Can’t see what’s so funny about it, sunshine.”

“You said he’s th’ most powerful man in London. Wot’s evidence goin’ to do?”

There was an undeniable truth to her words, and she had hit a sore spot, if the way Inspector Gregson flinched was of any indication. “Well… it’s… in a court of law…”

“He’s a Lord, innit? The likes o’ im don’t care ‘bout evidence. They get away all the time.”

A brief silence, then Gregson straightened himself, pulling the brim of his hat down over his eyes. “... Not this time, sunshine. You have my word. He won’t get away with this.”

She wrinkled her nose. “... Ain’t he your boss?”

“That will make no difference. If he did what we suspect he has done, he ought to pay. And I will not under any circumstances let him get his hands on you.”

“That’s rich. A copper protectin’ a diver.”

“You’re just a little girl.”

A forkful of egg stopped in mid-air, and Gina stared back at Inspector Gregson as though struck. For a moment Mikotoba expected her to protest - say that she was not a little girl, she was the best diver the East End had ever seen - but instead she kept staring in silence for a few moments, mouth slightly agape, before looking down. She didn’t seem insulted: just taken aback, and oddly saddened. In the middle of the large armchair she looked smaller than ever, and something in Mikotoba’s chest ached. It must have been a long time indeed since she last got to be just a little girl with someone to protect her - if she ever had been.

Please, Yujin. Find the woman and help her child. It’s the last favor I can ask of you.

Mikotoba swallowed, looking down at Iris’ sleeping face. It took him a dreadful effort to push all thoughts of Genshin out of his mind, and focus on Sholmes’ voice as he spoke. 

“You have nothing to worry about, Miss Lestrade,” He grinned at her. “You have a copper, soon to be world-famous detective, and a doctor at your service. I daresay you’re safer than the Queen herself. We would however appreciate your help in solving this case, so we can remove this threat to your safety altogether.”

Gina hesitated, and turned back to Mikotoba. She seemed to me most reassured by him, perhaps on account of having seen him with a baby in his arms almost as soon as she awoke. He smiled. 

“We would be very grateful indeed if you could tell us all you know.”

“I…” a sigh, and she scowled down at her half-empty plate. “I don’t recall,” she finally mumbled.

“Don’t recall?”

“... I was at the docks. As you said. I remember that.”

“That must have been when you picked the Lord Chief Justice’s pockets clean,” Gregson muttered, and the child nodded.

“Hu-uh. Was lookin’ for a good target.”

“Awful choice there. And then?”

“Nuttin’.”

Gregson frowned, leaning forward. “What do you mean, nothing! You surely did something, or else we wouldn’t all be in this mess!”

“I don’t remember nuttin’! I was at th’ docks and then-- I remember lots o’ water. Cold.”

All annoyance vanished from Gregson’s face, and he leaned back in his seat. “Ah, yes. You…” He shifted a little, as though uncomfortable. “You fell in the Thames.”

“There was a nurse… a nice lady… there was you. You carried me. Said you’d keep me safe.”

Gregson cleared his throat. “Yes, well-- I do intend to,” he mumbled, pulling down the brim of his hat. Sitting next to him, Sholmes smiled brightly and clapped his hands. 

“Well! It seems you forgot quite a bit about that eventful day, Miss Lestrade. And all the relevant things to our case too! Unfortunate, that. What’s the doctor’s take on it?”

Mikotoba reached to put a hand on Gina’s upper back. “It’s not uncommon, after a traumatic experience. And she had a fever, too. It usually comes back after some time and rest.”

“So I’m goin’ to remember?”

“I’m sure you will, and if you could tell us all you recall we’d be very grateful.”

“... I see. So that’s the catch.”

Mikotoba shook his head. “There is no catch. You don’t have to earn our help. If you cannot recall, we’ll find another way to solve the case and keep you safe. Isn’t that right, Sholmes?”

“Of course!” Sholmes gave an enthusiastic nod. “My fair lady, we wouldn’t dream of leaving you to fend for yourself against the might of Britain’s judicial system incarnate! And besides, Inspector Gregson here is more than ready to cover my fee out of his own pocket. Oh! Gregson! I have mentioned I have been considering changing to an hourly fee?”

“What, you-- agh--! I mean-- uuuugh!” Gregson rubbed his face, which had seemed to rapidly turn into several different colors under Gina’s puzzled gaze. “I mean-- yes. Of course. There is no catch for you, sunshine,” he forced out. “But for my sanity’s sake, try to remember.”

Gina laughed. It was a sudden sound, and it caused Iris to startle with a surprised sound. Gregson grumbled, but he didn’t complain again as Gina muttered “deal” and shoved another forkful of eggs in her mouth.

***

“Of course you realize, we can’t just sit around and wait for her to remember before we act.”

“Well, I for one am not sitting. You should try spending a couple of hours a day upside down on your chair, Inspector. All that blood to your head will clear your thoughts wonderfully! Or make you black out. But the return to consciousness may just bring forth an epiphany!”

Tobias Gregson, who at the moment very much wished he had followed the family tradition as shopkeepers and never became an Inspector at all, glared at the spot where Sholmes’ head would have been had he not decided to turn upside down like a circus monkey. “What I am saying is that we have no time to waste!” he snapped at the detective’s slippers. 

“Ah, did I get you concerned about my new hourly fee policy, Inspector?”

“There is a man locked in prison as we speak, in case you forgot.”

“Oh! Of course, Mr. Drebber. I almost did forget.”

“Remarkable, considering that you have his head in your living room,” Gregson grunted, and turned to look at the head in question. It had been moved from the table and was covered with a cloth before Gina Lestrade could see it, but its presence remained unnerving.

“Well, not quite his head. It’s a wax replica, made with remarkable craftsmanship and-- ah, Mikotoba! Both our guests are back to sleep, I hope?”

“Indeed. Both Gina and Iris are back in bed. Sholmes, you really should stop doing that.”

“It gets all the blood flowing to the brain, and helps me think better!”

“That is not how this works.”

“How would you know?”

“I have a degree in medicine, for one.”

“Ah, yes. That is why I call you ‘my good doctor’, after all.” With a sigh and a movement that frankly should not have been possible in Gregson’s opinion, Sholmes returned to a normal sitting position on the armchair. “Well. The Inspector here was saying we cannot wait for the young lady’s memory to return.”

Mikotoba looked over at Gregson with a nod. “I do agree,” he said, to Gregson’s utter relief. There was no love lost between them, mostly due to the fact Mikotoba’s presence was always a sign Sholmes was not far away, but the Japanese doctor did tend to be the most reasonable out of the two. A low bar to step over, that. “We don’t know how long it may take for young Gina to recall the events of that day, and what precisely she took from Lord Stronghart. It may happen tomorrow as well as in six months’ time, for all we know. Or… well. We cannot rule out the possibility she may never remember. We need to think of some way to prove our theory - that the man currently imprisoned at Barclays is not the Professor. Or at least to be absolutely certain ourselves. But I don’t know how--”

“Well, we go see for ourselves, obviously.” Sholmes spoke just as though he had just suggested they look out of the window to check the weather. 

Gregson fought back the usual urge to throw something heavy at the detective’s head and just dropped his own head back against the armchair’s backrest. “Oh, of course. We walk in and ask to see the prisoner no one is allowed to see but one selected, deaf warden, by direct order of the Lord Chief Justice of London. I am sure they will open the door away.”

As per usual, all his sarcasm flew well over Sholmes’ head. “Why, that would be awfully nice of them. But alas, through my powers of deduction I have come to suspect they would not let us in. However, if the Lord Chief Justice were to ask to see the prisoner, I am certain they would open their doors to him and whoever is accompanying him. Don’t you agree, doctor?”

Gregson opened his mouth to ask him if he really thought he could talk Stronghart into letting him in, but before he could get a single word out Mikotoba laughed. “I believe, dear Inspector,” he said, “that Mr. Sholmes has a plan.”

Another insufferable grin. “That I do! But to enact it, we will need some external help…”

***

“... Nice plan, great detective.”

“I hadn’t quite planned for Mr. Stangerson to faint…”

“You pulled off a cloth to reveal the head of his missing friend!”

“A wax replica, Inspector! I would have told him right away, if he had the good grace to wait a few moments before collapsing. I would handle it with more grace if I were to see Mikotoba’s disembodied head on a table.”

Mikotoba raised an eyebrow. “Oh, would you now?”

“... How come I get the distinct feeling I am currently on very thin ice?”

“Will you two stop talking nonsense for a moment and help this man on the sofa! Why is his hair burning-- ugh, he’s heavy…”

“Oh yes! Tall and imposing! Just as we need him!” Sholmes smiled brightly as he watched Mikotoba and Gregson lean an unconscious Joseph Stangerson onto the sofa. “Mmmh. He may be slightly too much on the portly side, but that’s nothing a good girdle cannot help with.”

“What on Earth are you--”

“All in due time, Inspector. Now, it may be best for you to leave before Scotland Yard starts wondering where you’ve gone - your next shift starts shortly, as I believe you mentioned no less than sixteen times. Whatever excuse you gave for your absence can only hold up so long.”

Gregson frowned. “You haven’t told me what your great plan exactly is, Sholmes.”

Sholmes grinned, and wagged a finger at him. “All in due time! Don’t worry, go back to work and be as non-suspicious as possible. I’ll handle everything here.”

“That is precisely why I’m worried,” Gregson muttered, and rubbed his face. “Ugh. Fine, I’ll go and be back later. Whatever you’re doing, swear to me that the kid stays out of it.”

“... Miss Lestrade, or little Iris?”

“Both, for God’s sake! Both need to stay out of this!”

“Of course, of course! Now, where did I put the smelling salts?”

“I’ll get them,” Mikotoba said quickly. Last he had let Sholmes grab the smelling salts, he’d wound up grabbing something entirely different from his chemistry set. Things would have taken a drastic and permanent turn for the worst, had he not been able to immediately intervene.

Thankfully, Stangerson did not need any smelling salts. By the time Mikotoba headed back downstairs - after a quick check to make sure that both Iris and Gina were still asleep - Gregson was gone and Stangerson he was once again conscious, staring with wide eyes at the wax head as Sholmes finished explaining… well. Everything they knew thus far, really. 

Mikotoba said nothing, and sat on an armchair as Stangerson’s expression went to horror to relief, then to confusion, and slowly back to the most utter horror as the reality of Mr. Drebber’s situation sank in. Just as Sholmes finished speaking, he jumped on his feet.

“We must do something! We have to get him out of there!”

“Of course, and that is what we mean to--”

“We must go to the press!”

“We would not be believed, not without proof, not with so much at stake. And first of all, we need to be absolutely certain that our theory is sound--”

“I’ll go to the prison myself and--”

“Mr. Stangerson. I promise you, we are going to get Mr. Drebber out of there safely,” Mikotoba spoke up, and reached to put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “But if we show our hand too soon, things could go wrong. If our suspicions are correct, then Mael Stronghart can do… extreme things to keep the truth from being known.”

Stangerson looked back at him, hands still balled into fists, and suddenly he looked so lost. 

“You think… do you think he could be killed?”

“It’s… not outside the realms of possibility. Him, or any of us.”

“God.” With a groan, Joseph Stangerson fell back on the couch and ran a blistered hand through his hair. “Oh God, I should never have let him keep going out at night-- I knew it would land him in trouble-- if only--”

“This was not your fault, Mr. Stangerson,” Sholmes spoke up, and crouched in front of him. His expression was serious, his mouth a tight line. “Your friend’s choices are not your own, and you couldn’t know what would befall him. But when he went missing, you turned to us for help. That’s what matters. And we will help him.”

“He doesn’t know,” Stangerson choked out, and his gaze turned from Sholmes to Mikotoba. His eyes were wide, and full of dawning horror. “He’s all alone in there and he doesn’t know that we’re looking for him.”

“But he will soon enough. And he is alive, Mr. Stangerson. There is hope yet. But if we’re to reach him, we’re going to need your help.”

A shaky breath, then Stangerson nodded. “Anything,” he said. “I’d do anything.”

Sholmes smiled. “That’s what I hoped to hear. So, my good man, how would you feel about wearing a girdle?”

“... Huh?”

Stangerson blinked, and looked over at Mikotoba, who shrugged. “I am afraid he hasn’t divulged the details of this plan to me yet.”

“Ah, you won’t have to wait long. Just as soon as Miss Tusspells arrives - my message should have reached her a little while ago, after all.”

“Tusspells? Was it-- the lady who found him at the cemetery?”

“That’s the one! You see, you have a convincing enough body - but your face, I fear, looks nothing like that of our Lord Chief Justice, Mael Stronghart.”

“My… face?”

“Well, you see--” Sholmes began, only to trail off upon hearing a knock on the door. He grinned. “Oh, it seems Miss Tusspells has received my message. The good news is, I now will only have to spell out my plan once…”

***

“A mask.”

“Yes, that’s what I--”

“A wax mask in the likeness of the Lord Chief Justice of London.”

“I am fairly sure that is what I just said. Was it not?” Sholmes paused, frowning, and turned to Mikotoba. “My good doctor, that is what I said, correct?”

“This is ridiculous!” Esmeralda Tusspells paused her pacing, and crossed her arms. “No idiot would fall for it!”

Sholmes smiled. “I can’t see why not! Your wax sculptures are remarkably lifelike, as the bump on Mr. Stangerson’s head can prove.”

The mention of the student caused Tusspells to bite her lower lip, looking over. For all his remarkable size, the man in question looked oddly small as he looked back at her, his expression pleading. She hesitated, and when she spoke again she sounded defensive to her own ears.

“Of course my work is lifelike - it’s not that I have doubts! But a face made out of wax cannot move. Even if I can make a wearable mask out of it - which I have never done before - it would take only a good look to tell it’s completely motionless.”

“But there is a chance it might work!” Stangerson spoke up, wringing his hands. “Even if it is a small chance, we must try. An innocent man is in prison!”

“Not all that innocent, digging up corpses…”

“Well-- you were there to dig up a corpse too!”

“Touché. But I never claimed innocence.” Tusspells, sighed, and rubbed her temples before turning back to Sholmes. “... Run this by me again, monsieur. The way you envision it, the Lord Chief Justice shows up, saying nothing, never changing expression, and yet prison guards immediately take him to the prisoner without so much a direct order? Do I have to tell you how unlikely that i--”

“Bell’s palsy,” the Japanese doctor spoke up, causing her to trail off. She looked over, startled, and the man - Mikotoba, was it? - smiled. “It is a type of temporary facial paralysis caused by inflammation of the facial nerve. It usually only affects one side of the face, but it can be bilateral in rare cases. As prison guards are hardly doctors, I feel this explanation would suffice should anyone pose questions.”

“And who would answer those questions, if he cannot speak?”

Sholmes grinned. “Ah, we have an ace up our sleeve for that! A bona fide member of Scotland Yard willing to accompany the Lord Chief Justice to the visit, and speak for him. Surely, if the Lord Chief Justice arrives in prison and a respected Inspector is accompanying him, no one is going to look too closely.”

Tusspells paused for a moment. “That… does change things,” she said, and resumed pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. “... Yes, it’s so stupid, it might actually work.”

“That it is!” The detective smiled brightly, but she paid him no mind. Her thoughts were already racing, trying to think of a way to adapt her work to make a mask - a wearable mask. 

“It won’t be easy,” she said, frowning. “I will need to make a few experiments, and choose a material to serve as the basis of the mask. It cannot rest directly on skin, clearly, as the warmth might damage the wax and make it lose its shape.”

Stangerson nodded. “I am a chemist. Perhaps I can help you find a solution - something to make the wax more resistant to body heat, at least for a time.”

Tusspells nodded. “Yes-- yes, that would be very helpful, monsieur. And of course, I will need photographs of the Lord Chief justice. Obviously an imprint of his face would make the best basis for my work, and make it far quicker, but that seems impossible to obtain.”

Sholmes smiled. “Ah, but is anything really impossible?”

“I’d wager that shoving Lord Stronghart’s face in plaster to make a cast of it without him noticing would be close enough to impossible to be an impossibility, Sholmes,” Mikotoba pointed out, gaining himself a long-suffering sigh.

“You are horribly attached to common sense, my good doctor, but I will concede this point. But certainly, mademoiselle, you’d be able to make do without a cast?”

“Oui, of course. I can create his likeness in wax without a cast, but the process will be longer.” Tusspells rubbed her chin. Stangerson looked over, wringing his hands.

“How… how much longer?”

“Perhaps a week. Perhaps two. It all depends on how quickly I can have all the material I need.”

“I’ll get you anything - what material do you need?”

“I will need photographs, as I said, from any and all angles. Portraits of him too, as accurate as possible, to get his complexion just right - seeing him briefly at night in the light of an oil lamp was far from enough. I’ll have to make a wig, too. And… let me look.” She suddenly reached out to grab Stangerson’s tie, causing him to bend forward towards her with a startled yelp. She took the glasses off his face and looked at him closely. “We’re lucky, monsieur, that your eyes are such a light blue. Even if they’re not a precise match to the Lord Chief Justice’s, they will do. And… excuse-moi, but are you aware your hair is on fire?”

“Oh. Of course, that’s… that’s good. I’ll look for any photos, he’s in the newspapers so often-- I’ll find them,” Stangerson said quickly, entirely skipping her question about the perpetually smoldering lock of hair on his head. He straightened himself, putting his glasses back on. 

“As for portraits, I believe the Inspector can help us,” Sholmes spoke up. “There is no shortage of portraits of the new Lord Chief Justice in the Yard and around the Old Bailey, and he might just be able to smuggle one out to us.”

Tusspells nodded. “That would be perfect. And, it goes without saying - if you are caught, you’re not to name me as the creator of the mask.” She crossed her arms, looking the detective in the eye. “That gallery is my family’s legacy. I am all that is left. If anything happens to me, my entire family’s claim to immortality goes with me.”

Sholmes nodded, and held her gaze with a serious expression that, she had learned by now, only graced his features when the situation was particularly serious. “You have our word, your name won’t get past our lips if this goes wrong - but I am certain you realize, Miss Tusspells, that if the worst happens… it wouldn’t take long for Lord Stronghart to connect the wax mask to you regardless. Given your work and your presence at the cemetery that night.”

That much was true; it came to no surprise to Esmeralda Tusspells. If that insane plan failed, if they were caught, getting to her would take Stronghart very little time and no effort at all. Accepting meant putting everything on the line, whether or not those men could be trusted to keep their mouths shut.

“... I know,” she heard herself saying, and Joseph Stangerson stepped forward. 

“Miss Tusspells, I beg of you--” he began, only to trail off when Sholmes lifted a hand in his direction. 

“Mr. Stangerson, the choice is hers alone.”

For a few moments, Esmeralda felt remarkably as though she was standing among her waxen creations. Everything was still; each face was turned to her. She alone could speak her mind, she alone could decide whether or not the show was over.

The man looked so young. So pale, as though he’d been bled dry.

“Monsieur, what happened?”

“H--help--”

 And then she’d seen that face again, only weeks and yet years younger, smiling at her from a newspaper as the man held up a trophy. The Professor had suddenly had a name - Enoch J Drebber - and then he was suddenly not the Professor at all. A student with a brilliant future ahead of him until an ill-fated night, in the wrong cemetery, at the wrong grave.

Could have thrown the newspaper out then and I didn’t. I came here instead. I came for help because… because…

“... I saved his life,” Esmeralda heard herself speaking at last. “He’d have suffocated there, and we’d be none the wiser, if I hadn’t dug him up. And because I dug him up, he’s buried alive again.” A brief laugh and she tiled up her chin, looking at each of the men present. “Mon Dieu, how can you look at me and say I actually have a choice on the matter? There is only one choice.”

Mikotoba smiled. “There is another choice. The easier one. But you are a good person.”

A scoff. “Hah, hardly. Once this is all over and you’ve gained yourselves national popularity, I demand you all let me take casts of your faces for my museum.”

The request gained her a delighted grin from Sholmes. “Happily! I must say, I did wonder how come my visage was not in your museum just yet. Never too late, is it! I will happily let you take the cast of my face right awa--”

“Right after this case is closed,” Mikotoba cut him off and, to her utter relief, the detective stopped talking.

For a time.

***

When Gina sneaked downstairs, no one stirred. 

She was very quiet, of course, that came with her occupation, but she could hear someone - either Sholmes or Meek Toby - snoring really loudly behind the door of the room where they had retired to sleep, so she was pretty sure they wouldn’t have heard her of she stomped down the stairs. 

Meek Toby had been really nice after she had woken up again from her nap. He’d got her more food, and told her she could have the room all for herself; he’d share the room with Mr. Sholmes, he’d told her, until the matter with Scotland Yard was resolved and she could go her way without fear. He’d even offered to take baby Iris in the room with them too, but Gina had told him she didn’t mind. She was cute and well, if she started crying, she’d probably hear her no matter what part of the house she was in. That, and she wasn’t used to sleeping on her own. There were always other kids with her whenever she went to sleep, for as long as she could remember. An empty room just for her seemed… daunting. 

The stairs creaked a little, but not too much. She made her way quietly enough to the front door, slid the deadbolt open, tried the handle, and… the door opened.

Gina Lestrade stood there a few moments, bewildered, feeling the night air on her face and staring at the fog that blanketed the street. She had fully expected the door to be locked with a key too, she had been so sure it had to be - of course they would try to lock her in, it was all grownups did, they could not be trusted. She’d already decided that if the door didn’t open, she’d try climbing out of the window. But the door did open; they hadn't locked her in, and Gina found she didn’t know how to deal with that. Finally, she slowly closed the door, pulled the deadbolt, and sneaked back in bed - confused, and relieved, and confused at her own relief.

I can keep her safe, the copper had said, and maybe he’d meant it. Maybe they all meant it.

Maybe, she thought, some grownups could be trusted after all.

***

Mael Stronghart’s plan, as far as the dispatch of Seishiro Gigoku and  Genshin Asogi from the country was concerned, had been flawless.

As their ship left for its first stop in Calais, it did so well ahead of the newspapers’ evening editions printing the story of the Professor’s survival due to a botched execution - something which may have roused a misplaced sense of guilt in one man, and too many questions in the other. The latter was the greatest concern, and Stronghart would rather not have Asogi return to England out of a misplaced sense of honor to find out what happened, and who the man languishing in prison in his stead was.

The ship left Calais perfectly on time, to farther shores, before news could spread to France in any form. Always ahead of any newspapers which may be dispatched internationally - that was, as long as the ship kept to schedule. And it didn’t. 

Much later, some would describe it as fate. At the time, it seemed an inconvenience of little consequence: a defective boiler which forced the steamship to stay in the Port of Gibraltar nearly two days more than planned, for repairs. It caused some grumbling among the passengers already on board, but it was welcomed by others who would otherwise have had to wait for the next passing ship. 

On the afternoon of the steamship’s delayed departure from Gibraltar, no fewer than nineteen extra passengers boarded - most of them British nationals. And one of them had, among his belongings, the copy of a London newspaper from the previous week, delivered to him that very same morning. While the news on it was not all that new in Great Britain, it certainly was news to the British Overseas Territory of Gibraltar - and stunning news, too.

Professor’s death sentence commuted to life imprisonment after execution is botched.

[kraekat29]

Day One: This is me trying.

Summary: day one of Juby week!! This piece is a lot of angst. Right now this is an outline of a future chapter I have for Paper Rings. I think this really shows their dynamic this season and I hope you guys enjoy.💜

Coming back to Kildare wasn’t easy, especially for them out of anyone else.

John B had been reunited with Big John and Sage, Kiara had returned back home, Pope even took Cleo back to Heyward’s.

Now that just left JJ and Ruby, the couple walking through Figure Eight alone, trying to get to their house.

Ruby’s heart sunk as she saw the caution tape, her and JJ running up the steps and finding, much to their horror, an eviction notice on the front door.

“ no- no!” Ruby yelled, frantically tugging on the door handle, this couldn’t be happening, her and JJ couldn’t be homeless.

The couple shared a look, tears filling both of their eyes as they searched for a way inside their home- finally making it through the back door that had been broken.

The two looked around in horror, the place had been completely trashed, almost looking like a frat house inside.

With shaky hands Ruby crouched down and picked up a busted picture frame, it was a picture of her, John B, and JJ on their fourteenth birthday.

She sniffled as glass dropped onto the ground, the shards had tore the picture, it was ironic that the tear was between her and John B.

But JJ had been quiet this entire time, his jaw clenched in the way that said he was about to blow.

“ JJ..?” She asked, setting down the picture frame, “ I’m going to my dads. I’ll let you know if we can stay there.” He muttered before walking out, slamming the door behind him.

She sighed and went to where they keep the cleaning supplies, starting to clean up the house- after that she’d go to the bank, she still had enough money for the payment.

But after a few hours JJ still wasn’t back, with a frown Ruby walked outside, stopping and grabbing them both dinner before walking back to The Cut.

She rounded the corner of his dads house, seeing him crouched next to his dirtbike and working on it, she sighed in relief, at least he was safe.

Ruby set the bag on the work bench and knelt next to him, but all JJ did was glance over at her before going back to focusing on the bike.

“ you didn’t come back..” she said quietly, “ god what does it matter?” He snapped, “ okay.. okay sorry..” she said and looked down.

“ you can go now” he dismissed, “ J what’s going on..?” She asked, gently touching his arm, but he pulled away from her and stood up.

Ruby sat there, slowly dropping her hand back down onto her lap, “ I mean, you really thought we’d work? That we could have a life together?” He asked and she looked up, “ of course I do.. JJ what the hell?” She asked and stood up.

“ look at you and look at me Ruby. Take a good fucking look. One of these things is not like the other.” JJ said and shoved past her, “ that’s not true JJ, c’mon just talk to me..” she pled, watching him angrily pace around.

“ you had a godamn house on figure eight literally handed to you Ruby! All i have is this!” He yelled and threw a wrench towards the house.

“ JJ- JJ LOOK AT ME!” She shouted and grabbed the sides of his face, his breathing was erratic and his eyes wouldn’t focus.

“ I don’t care if this is all you have okay..? I don’t care if we’re rich or if we’re poor.. I love you, I love you on your good days and your bad.. I love you no matter what happens..” she said and he shook his head, trying to move away.

“ nah.. nah you don’t mean that..” he said with a hollow laugh, “ you dated Rafe fucking Cameron Ruby, you’re meant to be a Kook” he jabbed and she cringed, stepping back.

“ that’s not fair JJ.. I didn’t have a choice..” she whispered, tears stinging her eyes, “ it’s the truth.” He said and went to step past her again.

She grabbed his arm and suddenly he was pushing her, Ruby landing on the grass with a thud, “ Ruby- shit!” He cursed, “ i-I’m okay.. it’s okay..” she tried to reassure, carefully standing up.

“ no- not it’s not okay.. son of a bitch!” He yelled and put his hat on backwards, “ it was an accident.. you aren’t like him..” she said quietly, grabbing his hand.

JJ shook his head and got on his bike, driving off and leaving her in the dust, not seeing the tears streaming down her face.

By the time he came back she was lying on the couch at the Chateau on the sunporch, rereading the letter her brother had left on the front door.

She heard the sound of his dirtbike and sat up on her arms, the second he made eye contact with her he sighed and got off the bike.

“ he isn’t here.. he’s out with my dad..” she said quietly, offering him the note, he took it and read over it.

“ great.” He muttered and tossed it aside, “ uh Kie called.. I guess Sarah said there’s a chance to get the cross at Wilmington tonight, it’s on a train..” she explained, nervously biting the end of her braid.

That seemed to cheer him up, a smile finally forming, “tonight? Then what are we waiting for? We gotta go” he said and started going back to his bike.

“ no uh.. you have fun J, i’ll skip this one..” She said and started walking the opposite direction, “ Ruby..” he said quietly and she turned.

“ can’t we just start fresh? Etch a sketch it or some shit..” he said, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“ yea.. sure..” she said quietly, looking up at him, something was different between them now, it felt like Ruby was the only one trying to save this relationship, almost like JJ wanted this to crash and burn.

“ okay, okay truce then.” He said and flashed her a smile, “ truce..” she said and held out her hand as they did their handshake.

Once they got to Wilmington they had to pretend to be normal, Ruby leaning against JJ’s bike while he went to form the plan with everyone else.

She sighed, wishing he would just open up to her, all she wanted to do was help, but it was clear he needed space.

So she held onto him as he drove the bike, stopping in front of the train tracks, hesitantly she went over to help him.

“ here..” she said quietly, stopping his panicking as she moved the other jump cable the opposite side, watching as the light turned red.

“ holy shit! That’s my girl!” He cheered and spun her around, and for a moment she felt like she had her JJ back.

“ no it was all you..” she said, keeping her gaze down. The two ran over and hid behind the bushes, her hugging her knees and JJ looking over at her.

His heart ached, he was on a downhill spiral and he couldn’t bring her down with him, it was better this way.

They heard the sirens and it was go time, both of them getting on the bike, “ Baby..?” He said, “ yea..?” She asked, “ I need you to hold on really tight okay? Don’t let go..” he said and she nodded, tightening her hold around him as he took off.

She hid her face in his back, trying to calm her racing heart, pausing as JJ began to slow down.

“ JJ..?” She asked, “ do you trust me?” He asked, glancing back at her, “ always..” she said.

“ then I need you to jump..” he said and she shook her head no, “ are you crazy! This isn’t some fast and furious movie!” She yelled, glancing back at the police cars.

“ please Ruby..” he begged and she took a deep breath, nodding, “okay..” she said quietly.

Slowly Ruby stood up on the back of the bike, gripping onto JJ’s shoulder for dear life as she calculated the jump.

Pope held out his hand for her, promising that he would catch her, “ please be safe..” she whispered to JJ then jumped, Pope catching her and helping her into the bed of the truck.

She frantically watched the scene unfold in front of her, gripping Sage’s hand in fear, she didn’t know what he was planning.

And then it happened in slow motion, his bike crashing through the side of the bridge and clattering to the ground.

Ruby couldn’t move fast enough, her entire body shaking as she looked for him, something, anything of him.

“ JESSE!!” She screamed, dropping to her knees on the road and sobbing, wrapping her arms around herself.

Sage was the first one there, pulling Ruby into her arms, but Ruby couldn’t move, she frozen.

“ h-he can’t be gone.. he- he can’t..” she sobbed, it was the most heartbreaking cry the Pogues had ever heard before.

A moment made everyone turn except for Ruby, JJ limped over, dusting off his hat, “ that was not supposed to happen..” he said.

Everyone looked at him in shock and Ruby turned, looking up as more tears spilled.

He didn’t care what anyone else was saying, running over and dropping to his knees beside her.

“ hey.. hey look at me Rue I’m here.. I’m right here..” he reassured, catching her as she threw herself into his arms, sobbing.

He gently pulled her onto his lap, holding her close, “ don’t.. don’t ever do something like that again..” she choked out, “ I won’t..” he promised, petting her hair.

“ next time keep me with you..”’she whispered, hiding her face in his chest, gently he tilted up her chin and kissed her.

He realized how stupid he had been, he knew she would be there for him.

He knew she was trying.

[logarhythm-bees]

To Unearth and Back Again; ⛅Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty One | Table of Contents | Chapter Twenty Three

See ronithesnail's absolutely wonderful art for this story!

And we have made mistakes But we've learned from them And the sun, it does not cause us to grow It is the rain that will strengthen your soul And it will make you whole

-I Have Made Mistakes, The Oh Hellos

Janus swirled the tea in his cup. 

“Let’s start with Roman,” Remus prodded. Janus flinched.

“He was the best avenue I could see to being listened to, after everything.” Janus spoke. “He was so easy to sway to my points. And Thomas so wholly admires him.” He clicked his tongue.

“The ease with which I could get him to agree with me was such a thin layer above his pride, though. And I think I egged at him too hard. I forget how susceptible Thomas’s ego is to bruising.

I pushed too far, made the wounds too sore. And yet, I was still surprised when he lashed out at me. I didn’t know, in my frustration, how much damage it would do to lash at him right back.”

Remus hummed affirmatively. “Are you going to apologize?”

Janus froze, looking out the window. “I’m sorry I called you the evil twin, that-”

“Not to me, you idiot.” Remus said. “Evil twin is a compliment in my book. But you know it’s far from that for Roman, don’t ‘cha?”

“...I do.” Janus winced, brokenly.

“I’ll try.” 

“And?” Remus said, rolling his hand and prompting Janus to continue. Janus picked up his tea again, grounding himself with the feeling of the mug. He thought hard, words wavering on his tongue, each rise and fall of his chest coming out a shaky breath and he wondered, trying to figure out what to say.

“Do you remember,” he asked in a whisper, “when Virgil was a part of us?”

“”Course I do,” Remus responded nonchalantly. “What’s your point?”

“I think it was easier, then.” Janus said, taking a sip of his drink and then setting it down on the table. “When we were younger.

I don’t know if I’d say the world was easy, because it was so blindingly black and white then. But it seemed, almost, like the boxes didn’t matter when we were young. We did what we wanted and tried to keep ourselves out of trouble. Now it’s so complicated. Self-sacrifice in the name of honesty, guilt in the name of self defense.”

“Perhaps,” Janus sighed, “I asked too much of what they had, but didn’t want to give. Virgil could make Thomas listen. Where we differed was to listen to what.” 

Remus was still staring at him, watching. “I guess I thought he would get him to listen to me. That is where I was wrong.”

Janus bit his tongue harshly, almost enough to bleed. “I don’t know if I can blame him.”

The wind blew outside the window, gently rustling the trees and carrying the quiet through the world.

“I suppose, when it comes down to it,” He continued, “it all comes down to self-preservation. 

I would’ve rather had Thomas do the wrong thing for the right reasons, but Virgil would prefer to have Thomas do nothing at all. Wanting the same thing, but never being able to agree how.”

Janus sighed, taking a sip of his tea.

“It’s ironic, isn’t it?” Janus laughed, sadly. “We both wanted to keep Thomas safe, but all we ended up doing was hurting each other.”

“I remember,” Remus said.

Janus paused, gazing out the window. “I think we’re still hurting.” He looked over his tea, letting the steam coax away the stinging in his eyes. “Perhaps some of us more than others.”

Remus managed to sit quietly—he very well might have been making some silent but obscene gestures, but Janus wouldn’t know, peripheral vision gone fuzzy as he stared aimlessly at the plastic table as the warmth of the still-hot tea seeped from the porcelain into his hands.

“Do you think they’ll ever forgive me?” Janus asked. 

Remus sighed.

“You know that’s not up to me, Jan,” Remus said, staring straight through him and more earnest than Janus had ever heard him be. “But I think an apology might be a good place to start.”

Janus smiled softly over his tea, handle cool against his skin.

“I think that’s a good idea.” Janus said, and not even a hint of it was a lie.

[knucklegagging]

Fifty Shades of Chestpains is my Soul-Sister

Starting this morning off right (debatable) by triggering the fuck out of myself binge-watching this guy’s groovy channel on youtube (check him out!) Maybe if I’m thin enough, eventually he’ll make a deep dive on me. Lol jk, anonymous land is my sacred place. I would hate for anyone to be able to pin a face to my vent sessions. No one needs to ever know I’m the bitch who’s mom took naked photos of me and w my then-dad taught me how to purge, hand stuffed in my gaping mouth begging to go to bed, not being allowed to sleep in second fucking grade till I “got it all out like a good girl” because I had taken two benadryl instead of one by accident (their own fault, they should have been communicating instead of casually handing me pills to make me drowsy enough to sleep). Without tumblr I have to keep these thoughts inside of me. Tumblr is the only place where you can be honest about what happened and people don’t go “oh honey i’m so sorry that happened to you” *BARFS IN CHEESECAKE* because all of us are just making fucked up jokes trying to process through our own shit and laughing writing out “same” in the comment sections. Y’all are like the fake family I should’ve had. The ones who don’t act like assholes or make me swallow up the truth cuz they’re worried about their own dirty laundry getting dragged in the street if I acknowledge that they’d kick me out just to call the cops on me and pretend they were worried about me being a flight risk so that the cops would get me sectioned in the psych ward. Great job fucktards. From like age ten and up you already had maneuvered enough stupid pawns to get everyone believing I was the crazy one. As though your lies even make sense. Tell me, what child would run away from a healthy house? Wouldn’t the logical conclusion be that the child isn’t safe? It’s a fucking child. And when a kindergartener tells the teacher that mommy ‘s taking photos of them naked, don’t you think that teacher should have done something other than chastise the kid for bringing up inappropriate conversations that ought not be talked about?  I don’t care that she thought it was tasteful. How can a naked child be tasteful? Then she goes and sends the pics to people for Christmas like it’s totally normal to make a tiny child pose completely naked on a bed of scratchy tulle. I remember having to apply lotion every day for over three months to places that shouldn’t have seen tulle. I’m on a tangent of traumatic shit no one should ever need to read, especially this early in the morning. But, I guess my point is that it’s nice that I can be real. It’s nice that people don’t act like my mother was a saint here because she was a beacon of charismatic masking in more than one church.  And as fucked up as shit is, or has been, (these days nothing is wrong which is lovely but I’m still stuck processing the past over and over wondering when it’s going to break me and scared to leave my house because if I die and nothing majorly positive has happened to offset my life, then all myhopes of an eventual balancing scale are total bullshit) well... fuck. At least I have 50Shades of Chestpains (ironically my chestpains have been having fun ww me all morning and won’t seem to budge away) cuz he at least seems to get the complexities enough to try shining a light on all of these situations. And yes, of course it’s triggering, but mostly I think it’s a relief. It’s nice knowing that I’m not alone. It’s nice to have this zen garden of anorexia fuckery where video after video I can see and say “hey! that one sounds like me! I’m not the only one who’s stuck in this!” Like tumblr. I think we really get a bad rep like we’re trying to force each other to get sicker. I wish more people could understand that it’s not the goal, it’s an unpleasant side effect *SOMETIMES* and that the focal point in progress is being able to go “oh fuck thank goodness I’m not the only one. Thank goodness that for once I don’t have to posture. Thank fucking goodness there’s one place left where I’m allowed to be truthful without dumb people with perfect lives saying dumber things with imperfect timing. Tumblr is my butter. It makes me feel a little bit more heavy. A ;little less likely that I’m going to float away. You guys are awesome! xoxo