#we just went under tornado watch and I’m a little freaked out by it

[archituck]

not used to having tornado watches and honestly it eeks me out a little bit

[acnelli]

First Time Falling

This is my entry for the @hpqueerfest 2021. Thanks to the mods who hosted this! And a big thank you to my great beta-readers @nagemeikenu and @static-abyss who put up with my phone-writery (writing time is hard to come by these days).

This story was inspired by Prelude and Fugue by shes_gone, and it’s set in a world where Harry didn’t go to Hogwarts, but had been prepared for his destiny.

Pairing: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley Rating: T TW: strong language, mentions of war time, mentions of drug and alcohol consume Prompt: Falling in love for the first time as an adult (late 20’s-early 30’s) Summary: Harry Potter –Head-Auror and Savior of the Wizarding World– spontaneously asked out a cute redhead and it turned to so much more than he could have ever hoped for. 

You can also read this on AO3 and FFN.

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

Not bothering to knock, Ron Weasley marched into Hermione Granger’s office. The heavy mahogany door slammed against the wall, making Hermione jump up from her chair.

“Ron,” she shrieked as a bunch of paper fell off her desk. “What happened?”

Instead of providing his best friend with an explanation for his sudden intrusion, Ron paced back and forth. The panicked look in his eyes made Hermione assume the worst.

With one swift motion, Hermione stepped in front of the redhead, forcing him to stop his frantic pacing. “Ron, please talk to me,” she pleaded, taking his hand into hers. “What’s going on? Is someone hurt? Is your family okay?”

Hermione’s worried expression and the panic in her voice finally brought Ron to his senses. “No, don’t worry, Hermione,” he sighed as he closed her office door. “I’m sorry! But...do you have time for a quick cup of tea in the cafeteria?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. This report is giving me a headache and I need a break.”

Hermione grabbed her purse and gestured for Ron to lead the way.

“I swear, Ron, if you almost gave me a heart attack over something Quidditch related, I’ll hex you into next week and make your new Firebolt disappear forever,” Hermione added as they made their way down to the Ministry cafeteria.

Ron glanced over at the bushy-haired witch, suppressing a grin as he told her his distress was indeed about Quidditch. They grabbed their beverages and headed towards a free table. Gracing him with a dark look, Hermione gestured for Ron to finally tell her what’s going on.

“Harry Potter asked me out on a date!”

This statement caused Hermione’s drink to go down the wrong way, resulting in a violent coughing fit and her spitting out the tea.

“What?” she wheezed out between coughs, as Ron cleaned his face and shirt with his wand.

He waited patiently until Hermione recovered, both from the coughing fit and the shock. “See, even you don’t believe me,” Ron sighed, harshly rubbing his hands over his face, “I don’t blame you, though. I can’t believe it myself, after all.”

Finally being able to speak again, Hermione put her elbows on the small table and leaned forward, determined to not miss a single thing about this story. “Spill! How? When? Where? And don’t you dare to leave out even the smallest detail.”

Ron shook his head, still in disbelief about what had happened to him just twenty minutes ago. Not being able to wrap his head around it, he decided to tell Hermione today’s events from beginning to end.

“Today, Robertson sent me a memo to come to his office to discuss the ridiculous complaints about the Tornados/Harpies game last week,” Ron started and couldn’t help rolling his eyes about the things he had to put up with at work sometimes. “So, I went there, gave him my report about the match and a brief overview. Thank Merlin, he only asked his usual useless questions about referee bribery claims. I was ready to launch into a whole speech but he suddenly dismissed me and told me to write up a statement for the press.

“I was just on my way back to my office when I met Seamus. The fucking wanker had the nerve to claim the next Cannons match for himself. I know he did that just to spite me so, naturally, I gave him an ear full about it as we waited for the lift. We only noticed Harry Potter standing right behind us when we got inside the lift. I probably sounded like an idiot but Seamus and I kept the conversation up because I always get second-hand embarrassment when people stop talking if Potter walks by or joins the lift.”

Hermione patiently listened to his ramblings, restraining herself from telling him to get to the point already.

Ron sipped on his tea and shook his head. “You know what? I read too much into this. Just realised that I’m acting exactly as everyone else does. What’s the big deal? Just a bloke who wants to have a pint after work.”

Hermione stared at Ron, expecting him to go on with his story, but he just kept sipping his tea.

“Ron!”

“What?”

“How did he ask you out?” She accidentally raised her voice but Hermione was finally losing her patience with him.

“I told you, he most likely-”

“Just tell me the damn story, already!” Hermione snapped, blushing a little when she noticed the people on the other tables giving her funny looks.

“Alright,” Ron said, raising an eyebrow at her. “Calm down, barmy woman.”

“You're the one marching into my office like a lunatic. Spill it! Now!”

With a heavy sigh, Ron continued with his story, curling his hands around the tea mug to keep from fidgeting.

“Seamus had already gotten off at another level, so it was just me and Potter in there. I tried to avoid the awkward silence, so I asked him if he followed Quidditch and was going to listen to or even watch the Tornados match tonight. He said that he does follow Quidditch and that he intended to listen to the match at home but if I'd be up to it, we could listen to it at this new pub that just opened in Diagon. He totally caught me by surprise, but I must've agreed because he told me he'll meet me at the fireplaces at 5. Then he left the lift. Then I freaked out and came to your office.”

Ron marked the end of his story by taking another sip of his tea before he defiantly crossed his arms in front of him.

“Jesus, Harry Potter actually asked you out! Oh my God!” Hermione almost squealed, grasping one of Ron's arms.

“Nah! I don't think so anymore. I bet he just wanted to have a pint and was only being polite when he asked me to come along,” Ron said. “Who'd ask someone out like that anyway?”

“Someone looking for a partner?”

“Yeah, but think about it, Hermione. Why would he ask me out? The guy is not only fucking famous, he's also devilishly handsome. He could have anyone he wanted.”

“So?”

Ron looked at Hermione as though she'd just declared the desire to live as a chicken.

“So? So, why would someone ask me out while on a random stroll through the Ministry? Who'd think ‘Oh, that freakishly tall ginger with more freckles than skin looks kinda awkwardly cute. Let's try to get a leg over?'"

“I dated you,” Hermione interjected.

“You don't count.”

“Well, thank you!” Her sarcasm was all but ignored by Ron.

“I just know I'll embarrass myself tonight,” Ron insisted, looking quite unhappy. “Let's go back to work. I still have to write that useless report.”

“Devilishly handsome, hm?”

“Shut up!”

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

Harry didn't know what had possessed him to ask the cute ginger out for a pint.

Maybe it had been the Prophet article speculating for the umpteenth time about when the Savior of the Wizarding World would finally settle down and make some black-haired, green-eyed babies. Rita Skeeter had many ideas about what worthy witch could conquer the heart of Harry Potter. All things considered, the article had probably not been the worst thing written about him so far.

Sometimes he wondered if he should've taken Sirius’ advice to feed the press and public meaningless details of his life. It wouldn't stop the constant speculations and made-up affairs, but it probably would reduce the paparazzi following him around, the crazy fans sending him love letters and maybe, they would find something more newsworthy than where Harry Potter bought his toilet paper.

But he hated the fact that people demanded this from him. He was 29 now, and while the great hype about him was over, he still seemed to be interesting enough to write about, even over a decade after his defeat of Voldemort.

He knew the majority of the Wizarding World was sincerely grateful for what he'd done. There were so many parents thanking him for the simple fact that they're still alive and able to see their children grow up.

It reminded him that it was all worth it. The sacrifices, the nearly friendless childhood, his secret life away from the public, the growing up with the knowledge that he might not live long enough to celebrate his 17th birthday. All of that had resulted in ending Voldemort once and for all.

When he'd destroyed the Dark Lord and his Horcruxes though, Harry’s hope of finally living a normal life got crushed soon after. In the post-war world, it had been next to impossible to lead a life like everyone else. Because of his childhood and his training by Alastor ‘Mad Eye’ Moody himself, he learned not to trust easily. And since occasions to make friends or interact with strangers had been few and far between, he never really learned what to look for in a friend.

He was well aware that he was complaining about a comfortable life. His parents had left him a respectable amount of gold, and Sirius bought him a flat in London after he graduated from Auror Academy. Maybe he'd gotten this job because of his fame and reputation, but he knew he deserved the position as Head Auror. There was hardly anyone with the same amount of training and experience he brought to the table, and he was under the impression the people working for him did genuinely like him as a boss. Two of them he even considered friends after all these years.

Aside from the two friends at work he also had his family. He had Sirius, Remus, Andromeda, Tonks and his godson, Teddy. He wasn't alone by any means, but he'd never met someone he could possibly fall in love with. Hell, aside from one of Tonks’ old friends from school and her father's attempts to set him up with several of his countless nieces—and later nephews when Harry told his family girls didn't do it for him—he'd never even dated. Toby—a fellow student from elementary school and the only friend his age—dragged him to Muggle pubs and clubs, resulting in the occasional snog or even a shag with a stranger. Needless to say, his first time hadn't exactly been romance novel material and it sure wasn't something he liked to think about. Sometimes, Harry feared that he would never fall in love, that he wasn't capable of developing those feelings for another person.

Those unpleasant thoughts combined with the Rita Skeeter article may have been the result of his sudden impulse to just go for it and ask the redhead out. But it also could have been the brilliant blue eyes, the kind, shy smile and the lean shoulders. Harry was sure, though, that the main reason for it had been the fact that this man hadn't treated him like a Messiah. It had just been an easy conversation, even if it had been only two minutes.

Harry hoped it would remain that way when they watched the game later. In fact, he could just brush it off as a friendly meeting with a fellow Ministry worker if Cute Ginger wasn't interested in anything more.

But when he thought about the redhead’s lopsided grin, Harry felt a foreign flutter in his stomach and he couldn't help but hope for more, even if it was just another visit to the pub.

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

In the 30 years of Ron Weasley’s existence, he'd never been on time for something not work-related. Today, though, he was almost ten minutes early as he waited by the fireplaces for Harry Potter.

Again, he felt rather pathetic. For a hot second, he considered waiting in a nearby bathroom to pass the time, pretending to get to their meeting place just in time. But then he reminded himself that he wasn’t a petty teenager anymore, and even if Potter found it pathetic, Ron didn’t expect a repeat of tonight, anyway.

He decided to just treat this like a meet-up with Dean and Seamus every other Thursday after work. Just two guys, enjoying a couple of pints together, talking about Quidditch. Nothing special. Nothing to freak out over.

The atrium was busy as ever but he spotted Potter right away when the Head-Auror stepped out of the lift and made his way towards the fireplaces. He still wore his magenta work robes and Ron couldn't help but notice how sexy they looked on him.

“Hi!” Potter greeted Ron, smiling somewhat shyly. “Ready for some beer and Quidditch?”

“Sure! But I forgot to introduce myself earlier, so I figured I'd do that now,” Ron said, giving the dark haired man a smile in return, as he offered his hand for a proper introduction. “I'm Ron. Ron Weasley.”

“I'm Harry.”

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

“No way! How did he get out of there?”

Harry barked out a laugh at Ron's tale of a night out with Seamus and Dean. His outburst was loud enough for the other guests of the pub to look in their direction. Ron found it amusing how a simple change into Muggle clothes, different glasses, and a slightly lighter hair colour resulted in no one recognizing the Boy-Who-Lived.

“Since it was a Muggle police station, Seamus had to spend the night there. Statute of Secrecy, and all. We picked him up the next morning and filled him in on what he'd done the night before, including showing everyone his pale arse.” Ron grinned deviously at the memory. “I invented some things for good measure. Unfortunately, Dean is too good for this world and told him a few hours later that I was taking the mickey.”

Harry shook his head, chuckling. “That reminds me of Remus searching the whole of London for Sirius, only to find him several hours later in a hidden spot on the roof. He was gazing at the stars and totally stoned. Combined with Firewhiskey, he didn't remember a single thing from that night.”

“Sirius?” Ron looked quite interested at the mention of his Godfather’s name. “Sirius, as in Sirius Black?”

“Yes. He was my Dad’s best friend. And he's my Godfather.”

“I'm just asking because I'm related to the Blacks. My grandfather married Cedrella Black.”

“Yes, I recognize the name. Her face got blasted off the family tree,” Harry said, and at Ron's raised eyebrow quickly added, “Sirius’ mother blasted everyone off that tree who didn't uphold the Black family's motto ‘Toujours pur’. So, Cedrella must have gone against the high and mighty Black Pureblood tradition.”

“Well,” Ron said, taking a swig of his beer, “she married a Weasley. I'm sure that alone was reason enough to disown her. The Weasleys have been notorious blood traitors since forever.”

“Sounds like your grandmother had good taste in men if you ask me.”

Harry winked at Ron, and the redhead felt the burning blush creeping up his neck.

Ron was once again amazed at how little time it had taken him to lose his nervousness. But Harry Potter made it very easy for him. Harry was confident, yet humble and polite. His humor didn't have Ron's sarcastic edge, but the redhead found Harry delightfully witty with a good amount of sass.

Ron didn't know what he expected but it was undeniable how easy it was to talk to Harry. He could only hope the raven-haired man enjoyed this just as much as he did. Harry laughed at his jokes and seemed genuinely interested in Ron's more-than-mundane life.

As much as Ron tried to see this as a meeting with a good friend, he couldn't help the warm feeling in his chest every time Harry smiled at him or his leg accidentally bumped against Ron's. And if the alcohol hadn't gone to his head already, making him imagine things, Harry's eyes kept flitting down to Ron's lips.

When the woman behind the bar announced the final round, they decided to call it a night since it was one of Harry's work Saturdays tomorrow.

As they ventured out of the crowded pub and into the cool night air, Ron was disappointed about the evening coming to an end. Time had flown and he was sure they could've talked for several more hours.

“Would you mind if I walk you home?” Harry asked just as Ron wanted to wish him a good night.

Ron nodded, not being able to suppress his smile as Harry obviously remembered him mentioning that he only lived a few blocks away.

They kept their pace slow and walked a little closer to each other than necessary, their hands bumping against one another. Every touch sent a jolt through Ron's body and he wanted nothing more than to take Harry's hand.

Eventually, they reached their destination. During the entire walk home Ron had gathered all of his Gryffindor courage to ask Harry out, this time for an official date.

“I- um,” Ron started, rubbing one hand against the back of his neck to ease his nerves. “I really enjoyed this evening and I was wondering...Maybe I got this all wrong, but you seem interested, and well, I'm interested too. And if you're not, that's totally fine. But...caniseeyouagain?”

And before Ron's face had the time to go completely crimson, he got his answer as Harry took his hand to pull him close, leaned up and kissed him.

Harry pulled back from Ron's lips, his stunning, green eyes slightly darker than usual and holding a hopeful glint.

Ron didn't give himself the chance to overthink as he put his hand on the back of Harry's neck and kissed him again. A deep groan escaped him when Harry licked at Ron's bottom lip and Harry took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside.

Ron was positive that he'd never experienced something more incredible than kissing Harry Potter. The only things he was capable of paying attention to were Harry and the wild thumping of his heart. And while it was exhilarating and new and positively made him weak in the knees, it also felt a lot like coming home.

Having lost all sense of time, Ron couldn't tell if they'd kissed for a minute or several hours when they broke apart. Harry's hands still gripped his shirt and Ron let his own hands glide from Harry's dark hair down over strong, well-defined shoulders to finally rest at his hips.

Both of them tried to catch their breath and Harry, who finally let go of Ron's shirt to put his arms around him, smiled up at Ron almost shyly.

“Yes, you can see me again,” Harry said, grinning.”What are your plans for tomorrow night?”

“Well,” Ron pretended to think about it for a second, “I thought I'd do this.”

And with that, he leaned in to kiss Harry again.

“I think that's a brilliant idea.”

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

Just as he turned off the radio and grabbed his coat from the rag beside the door, a loud knock sounded through Harry's now quiet flat.

“Ten minutes early. Eager, aren't we?” Harry said as he opened the door for a tall ginger with a picnic basket in one hand and a broom in the other.

“Says the one waiting right beside the door like a good dog.”

Ron shoved his way inside, putting down the basket and broom before pulling Harry into his arms.

“Happy Birthday,” Ron murmured against the other man's lips. “And I thought I was supposed to give you a present, not the other way around?”

Harry pulled back a little, apparently confused. Ron grinned at him and squeezed Harry's arse. “Thanks for wearing my favourite pants today.”

Chuckling, Harry pointed at the broom Ron had brought with him. “No way I'll fly on a broom in these. Good thing I also packed my joggers.”

Ron hadn't told him where they were going for Harry's Birthday. He'd just instructed Harry to be ready at 9 in the morning, so they'd be back in time for dinner at Grimmauld Place with Harry's family.

Only two months had passed since their first kiss, but Harry already felt as though he'd known Ron for much longer. Every kiss, every touch, all the teasing and banter, and late night talks felt so completely natural, yet blissfully exciting.

“Come on, grab your broom. We're on a tight schedule.”

Ron winked at him and before Harry knew it, they were standing in the middle of a giant Quidditch pitch.

There wasn't a single soul besides them, but Harry immediately recognized the giant Hogwarts House banners from his family's keepsakes of their school years. Aside from that fateful day when he'd fought Voldemort on those grounds, he'd never visited the school. Not before, not after.

Harry tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. The surprise must be the result of one of their late night talks, when Harry confessed that his deepest desire while growing up had been to go to Hogwarts.

“Are we allowed to be here or do I need to arrest you for breaking into school grounds?”

Arms wrapped around him from behind and Harry could feel Ron smiling against the back of his head. “I wouldn't be opposed to playing the big bad Auror and the naughty Suspect later, but this is actually 100% legal. Having contacts with important Quidditch officials has its perks sometimes. And my annual chess game against McGonagall helped too, I suppose.”

“Okay then,” Harry said, lifting one of Ron's hands to his mouth to brush his lips against his knuckles. “Fill me in on that plan of yours.”

Ron let go of him and reached for their brooms, tossing one of them at Harry. “I thought we'd fly over the grounds first, so I can show you everything from above. The castle looks fucking amazing from up there and the Great Lake is a sight to die for when the water reflects the sun.”

Ron mounted his broom and flew in slow circles around Harry as he continued to talk. “I hope you don't mind that I invited your family for dinner. But I thought we could all show you the castle, introduce you to our favourite spots and secret places. Andromeda can show us the Slytherin common room. I've never been there myself. I'll show you the kitchen first. That's where I'll cook dinner later while the others show you around.”

Jumping down from his broom, Ron looked at Harry with a mixture of excitement and reluctance as he rubbed the back of his neck. It was a telltale sign of the redhead being nervous, Harry had learned in the last weeks.

“So, I thought this to be fitting for a 30th Birthday. I wasn't sure what to get you that you don't already have, and I reckoned this might be fun.”

Harry didn't know what to say and his silence only made Ron doubt his plan more. It always baffled Harry how Ron didn't realize how wonderful he was. He wished Ron could see himself through Harry's eyes.

Right at that moment, as Harry looked into Ron's blue eyes, it hit him. In fact, he knew he'd been harbouring these feelings inside him for weeks now, but only now he could see it with shining clarity.

He was falling in love.

The feeling was new, something he'd never experienced, but still he recognized it for what it was.

 Love.

***

[charming-charlie]

Tornado Warning

Title // Tornado Warning

Pairing // Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings // Panic attacks, I guess? Also fear of tornados. This is a clean, wholesome little story.

Summary // There is a tornado warning and you are freaking out. Guess who you call for comfort.

Word Count // 1.5k

Marshmallows, check. Rice Crispy cereal. Check. Stove ready. Check.

Your head went back and forth from the television to the spread of food on the kitchen counter. You were not much of a cook but decided to try your hand at something simple. Rice crispy treats were about as simple as it could get. Unfortunately, you didn’t realize just how messy such a simple treat would be to prepare.

You were watching a cooking show and following along, taking breaks during the commercials to assess your job so far. You used far more mixing bowls than you needed, bought three bags of marshmallows, and broke one wooden spoon. This was not turning out as well as you thought it would.

Suddenly, a loud noise. It was a shrill, piercing alarm. You jumped and the spoon you were using clattered to the floor. The noise was coming from the TV, interrupting the cooking show.

You walked over to the TV and stared at the words as they flashed across the screen. There was a tornado warning in effect. You felt the bile in your stomach rumble, threatening to come up. Your heart raced at the white words against the red banner, flashing brightly enough that it made your eyes hurt. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.

Panic rose inside and you abandoned your mess in the kitchen. Immediately, you started searching for your phone. Your hand patted every surface until you found it, hidden under a bag of unopened marshmallows. Your hands were shaking so bad as you tried to pull up his number. He was one the recent contacts you sent messages to, so he was easy to spot since he was near the top.

If it wasn’t for Evan Buckley, you wouldn’t even be in Los Angeles. He was one of your longest and bestest friends. The two of you went to college together and met through a couple of classes before taking separate career paths. However, that didn’t mean the two of you lost touch. It was the opposite, really.

And it helped that he was a first responder. He could calm your ass down in a heartbeat.

You texted him quickly, fumbling over the letters. In the end, you sent him a message that said town ado each goons crazy thanks to the beauty of autocorrect. Buck replied with a lovely wtf are you talking about before he decided to call you.

The phone buzzed in your hand, scaring you out of your mind. It took several seconds for you to calm down enough to answer the phone.

“Hello?” you asked in a whisper. You felt if you talked louder than that, the words wouldn’t make sense, like autocorrect of the brain or something.

“Are you having a stroke? Do I need to send Chim and Hen over to check on you?” Buck’s voice was light and sweet in your ear. How was he not freaking out about the impending tornado that might rip through the town and kill everything in sight?

It just then occurred to you that, again, he is a first responder and he’s seen worse things. Like that giant tidal wave, for instance. A tornado warning might actually be nothing to him.

“That’s not funny, I’m going to die.” You turned off the TV, no longer wanting to hear the shrill alarm playing in the background. What did people do in tornado warnings? Seek shelter or something, right? Kind of hard to do from the fourth floor. Does your building have a basement? What is the protocol here?

“Calm down, you are not going to die,” Buck said. You could tell he was trying not to laugh but you didn’t find any of it funny. If he wasn’t worth the phone call, you would’ve hung up on him, but you needed his voice as a source of comfort.

“How do you know? Are you a weatherman?” you shot back suddenly as you looked outside. The streets seemed quiet. No one was running around or looting for supplies. Maybe that was a good sign.

You heard him chuckle on the other end, and you heard the phone shuffling around before his voice came back as clear as day. “No, but I see emergencies all the time. Trust me, you’re fine.”

Trust him? Trust him? He didn’t know how the weather worked. A tornado can crash through at any given moment. He would be the one to fish your body out from the rubble, and here he is saying you are fine?

“Okay but this is a tornado warning, not a watch. There is a huge difference here,” you tried to argue for whatever reason. You didn’t want to be in the wrong and you felt your fears were justified. They were, right?

Buck sighed, and you could practically see his face right now. Sometimes you had to wonder how he put up with your ass.

“Look,” he said as reassuringly as possible, “I’m gonna come over. You’ll see there is nothing to worry about.”

“You are not driving through this weather.”

“What weather? It’s in the eighties and it’s sunny. Shut up, I’m coming over.”

He hung up on you without saying goodbye and you stared at your phone in frustration. That man certainly knew how to work your nerves, sometimes for the good, but right now, you were worried about your life and his. He would be solely responsible if you died of a heart attack right now. Should you pen a note in case you do?

You know what? That’s a good idea.

In the time that it took you to find some paper, a pen, think about what you wanted to say, and write it down, there was a knock on the door. Either he was in the area or he did a little bit of speeding because he arrived a lot quicker than you predicted.

You walked over to the door and opened it, revealing his sweet yet sassy smile. You rolled your eyes and shut the door on him, but he put a foot out and stopped you.

“Come on Y/N, don’t be like that.” He walked in and his eyes fell onto your kitchen. The sass moved from his smile to his face. “Looks like the tornado already stopped by. I’m so glad you made it out alive.”

You pushed him, but that didn’t faze him. Curse those stupid muscles and the in-shape body he has.

He walked into the kitchen and, having eyes like a hawk, he spotted the note you wrote earlier. He held it up and read it and ended up laughing as he looked over at you. You could see your messy handwriting on the white paper, smudged a bit from being around the kitchen.

“You look good for a dead person,” Buck said as he placed the note back on the kitchen counter.

“Shut up, I’m really scared here,” you said softly.

He saw your face and instantly, his face melted into concern. Sure, he may have just been playing around but now that he saw how serious you were and how scared you actually turned out to be, it wasn’t all fun and games anymore.

He made his way toward you and reached for your hand. You surrendered it slowly as he gripped your fingers within his. “I’m sorry. You are really freaked out, aren’t you?”

He pulled you in and hugged you. Suddenly, you felt a thousand times better. This was all you really needed, a stable and solid hug. Just the feeling of being protected was enough because now, the thought of a tornado warning was so far away from your mind, it no longer seemed to matter or seemed at all important.

“Okay so we will get through this together. This is nothing, I’ve been through a lot of tornado warnings before. You could not be in safer hands,” Buck said gently.

His tone was relaxing. He led you over to the couch and the two of you sat down. Just for good measure, he kept an arm around you and held you close. You really liked the feeling of being pressed against him, especially turning times of terror, but you would never let him know that. People like you don’t really go out with people like him. It was best to keep your mouth shut.

And that was okay. You didn’t mind liking him from afar. At least, for now.

He held you and you gripped his shirt tightly, feeling that slight panicky feeling rise back up. Only this time, you were not afraid of the tornado warning. You were afraid of this moment ending when the world went back to normal.

There wasn’t much you could do. All good things must come to an end. For now, you just needed to sit back and enjoy being in the arms of a man you cannot have. No matter how much it hurt you inside.

Hopefully the tornado warning lasts as long as possible, perhaps even days, if it meant being comforted by him.

You could only hope.

[shipskicksandgiggles]

91 Parkner

sdfsfdklhs okay I’m not about to lie I really hoped someone would send this prompt so like,,,,, thank you I love you

prompt: “I’m not kissing you in the rain! We’ll catch our death!” (from this list)

Read Clichés and Thunder Claps here on AO3

~

A crack of thunder boomed, almost shaking the room with its intensity. Peter buried himself further into Harley’s side. 

“You okay?”

His response was muffled. 

“Didn’t catch that, love.”

Peter moved his head. “We’re really high up.”

Harley looked out the window to watch the pouring rain. “We’ve lived here for a while babe. Did you just notice?”

“No, we just haven’t had this bad of a storm since we lived here. I’m surprised it’s not freaking you out too.”

“Peter, I used to go out and watch tornadoes go past my front porch. A little thunder isn’t going to phase me.”

“It’s scary.”

“Poor baby.” He pouted at him until Harley cuddled him closer. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Kiss me?”

“Maybe later, dear,” he said before going back to reading his book, but he wasn’t focused on it. “What if I could make you like storms?”

“Hmm?”

He tossed their blanket to the side and pulled Peter to his feet. “Do you trust me?”

Peter looked at him warily. “Not right now I don’t.”

“Please?” He started walking backwards towards the balcony. “I’ll kiss you.”

“I’m not kissing you in the rain! We’ll catch our death!”

“What if… we dance in the rain?”

Peter regretfully started to give in. “You’re a hopeless romantic.”

“I’m hopelessly in love with you, darlin’.” He made it to the door and swung it open and let the wind whip around him.  Without even waiting for Peter, he ran outside and let the rain soak him and he grinned up at the sky. 

“You’re ridiculous!” Peter called from where he was taking shelter in the doorway. 

He shook the water from his hair and ran back towards Peter. 

“What are you doing? Hey, no! Don’t even think about-” Peter screamed when Harley dragged him the rest of the way outside. “I hate you.”

“Mhmm.”

“You’re a terrible boyfriend.”

Harley nodded and started humming the opening bars of Your Song while he swayed them back and forth. 

“Using Elton John songs against me isn’t going to work.”

“Spin for me, love.” 

Peter allowed himself to be twirled around. “I don’t why I put up with you.”

“Beats me.”

They kept dancing, and Peter began to enjoy it a little bit more. 

Harley went from humming to singing softly. “I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind, that I put it down into words, how wonderful life is while you’re in the world.”

“Okay, you got your dance in the rain. Can we please go back in and get dried off now?”

“One last thing.” He spun Peter again and knocked his feet out from under him so he could dip him. “I think I promised you a kiss.”

Peter reached up to wrap his arms around Harley’s neck. “Did you now?”

It might have been incredibly cliché, and their clothes might have been completely soaked, but honestly, no one could blame them for being the most adorable couple no matter what the weather.

[alpaca-writes]

Mystics, Chapter 10

When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by Lyrem, everything seems to be going well- their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as perfect as it seems….

Directory: [chapter one] [chapter two] [chapter three] [chapter four] [chapter five] [chapter six] [chapter seven] [chapter eight] [chapter nine]

Tag list: @myst-in-the-mirror

CW: misgendering of a nb character, creepy/intimate whump, psychological whump, shipwreck mention.

CHAPTER TEN: GEMINI PT II

        Charlotte would not hesitate to speak up when she found herself uncomfortable. Usually.

        Shortly after Arch had left for their meeting, Charlotte tidied around. She was left to clean up the discarded rompers around the living room and as she repacked on of the many clothing store bags she had brought home, there was a knock at the front door. She opened it, expecting a politician to be making their rounds or a band group from the high school to be asking for donations. Instead, she found Lyrem, smiling back at her with his unique charm. He was a bit red in the face, possibly from spending too much time in the sun.

        “What are you doing here?” She asked, already finding herself with a sickening feeling in her stomach from being near this unholy man.

        “Looking for Arch, of course,” he replied, “Are they around?”

        Charlotte paused, looking for any sign that the man might be joking with her.

        “No, Lyrem. They left a half hour ago to meet with you at Mystics,” She said unamused. “… Like you had asked them to.”

        Lyrem lifted a hand to his mouth, realizing something.

        “Oh dear. Oh dear…”

        “What?” Charlotte asked, becoming impatient.

        “Well, I had sent two messages,” Lyrem pulled out his phone, scrolling through their conversations. “One to say that there was a store meeting, and a second telling Arch that I would come by for a chat instead of-

        Oh… It seems that I had forgotten to send it.”

        Charlotte huffed, rolling her eyes at the old man. “Go find her then!”

        “Them.”

        “Oh, for goodness’ sakes, them.” She corrected. “You know I’m getting a little tired of you demanding so much out of them. Who runs a store downtown past nine o’clock on a Sunday evening, anyway?”

        “Someone who is desperate to stay out of a church I suppose.” Lyrem looked up from his phone. “There, I sent them a message to come back.”

        “What? Why? Go out and meet them. They’re probably downtown already!” Speaking sense to this old man was becoming more than a chore.

        “I would but to walk that far is not something I can manage anymore. Old bones, you know,” He smiled kindly at Charlotte. “Would you mind if I came in for a sit down?”

         Sit in your car, she thought.

        He was an old-fashioned sort, obviously craving human connection in the oddest of ways. What Arch saw in him as any sort of mentor, she would never understand. Reluctantly, she nodded, leading him through Arch’s sprawling makeshift bedroom and into the small kitchen where sunlight was still peeking through the trees by the window.

        “Would you like something to drink?”

        “A glass of water would be lovely.”

        Charlotte couldn’t help but smile patronizingly as she handed his glass to him. Tap water. He set it down on the table in front of him.

        “Would you like to hear a story while we wait for Arch to arrive?”

        Charlotte leaned against the refrigerator with arms folded. She cocked her head at him. She really didn’t care what he had to say or what stories he wanted to tell.

        “Sure,” she smiled.

        “Ah, wonderful. I love telling this one.

        The year was nineteen seventy-two. I had been travelling Europe for several weeks, however, for what particular reason I ventured out there for, I can no longer recall.” He cleared his throat, sipping the water from the glass on the table, taking his time. “I came upon a lovely town on the Grecian coastline. I had found a little place to stay there and enjoyed my time immensely with the local people. I stayed with a family who offered me a small room of their house for only a few pennies a night, and word eventually got around that I was looking for work in the area, seeing as I was too content living there to leave anytime soon. 

        It was one cloudy morning when a man woke me from a slumber; said that he had a job for me and would pay me quite well if I dared accomplish the task for him. He was in the delivery trade, you see; he would connect like-minded collectors and clients and deliver the items as a third-party investor that would keep both sides happy.”

        Charlotte had already lost all interest in the story, resorting to rub the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes.

        “The package he had for me to deliver was none other than a statue of Perseus to be signed to a buyer on a remote island several knots out from shore. It was odd to me that he would not do the deed himself since it seemed simple enough, but alas I was not willing to miss my chance to collect on a decent paycheque.

        Out on the water, I followed his map. I took the necessary precautions, found my bearings, and yet being out there for an entire day I still could not find the island that this man had spoken of. It was marked clearly on his papers for me, and so I sailed throughout the sea until dusk, searching for it. In the evening of that fateful night, unwilling to turn back as I was quite stubborn; I had encountered a freak cyclone on the water. A fearsome storm that roiled in the abyss of the deepest parts of the sea. The wind and the rain blew so hard into the boat that it felt like I was being shot with thousands of miniscule ice pellets. I couldn’t see a damned thing out there. Water tornadoes threatened to capsize the boat more than once and left me to drown in the torrential depths of the Mediterranean.

        Then, I awoke, washed ashore the next morning. The man who had hired me to take the statue out stood over me as I opened my eyes on the rocks. I didn’t feel as though it was something I should have survived, and yet I did. Content with the job I had done for him he presented me with a large envelope containing over six hundred Drachma, and then he simply went on his way. At the time, it was a tremendous amount of money to me. If I could go back now, I think I would have demanded more for the risk it took to my life.”

        Charlotte rolled her eyes, thankful that the story had come to its end. But then she couldn’t help but wonder aloud.

        “What happened to the statue?”

        He lifted his gaze to her. “Hm. What about the statue, dear?” He asked.

        “Did it break? Did you lose it, and the boat in the storm?”

        He shook his head. “Oh no, no. The statue was delivered.”

        “You said you washed ashore after the storm”-

        “I had done what he had asked of me,” Lyrem explained, drinking more of the water down. “I came to accept that the statue was more valuable in the bottom of the sea, than on the surface of Earth. That must have been what the man also thought. That is what I believe of many things these days as well. Some things, some people, just belong under the ground.”

        Charlotte side-eyed him.

        “Right,” she said, checking the time on the oven. It had only been fifteen minutes.

        Lyrem checked his pocket watch. It was hidden away beneath his jacket, and he clicked it open checking it briefly before folding it away again. He made a humming sound. If Charlotte was familiar with the Spanish Guitar, she might have recognized the tune as Sevilla- Suite Espanola No. 3 as played by his favoured guitarist, Andrs Segov-

        “Where are the hell are they?” Charlotte walked across the small house, and peered out the front door, worriedly. “I don’t see her-them coming up the walk. They should be back by now.”

        “I’m sure they are being well taken care of,” Lyrem appeared behind her, causing her to jump in place and flip around.

        “But, I, myself, seem to also be running out of time.” Lyrem continued hauntingly, looking past the woman, over her shoulder.

        “Did you have something you needed to get back to?” Charlotte inquired. “I’m sure Arch can reschedule a meeting with you.”

        “Fortunately,” he sniffed, addressing her once again. “that won’t be necessary. I am exactly where I need to be at this moment.”

        With lowering brows, Charlotte backed up, keeping her hand on the doorknob.

        “What is wrong, Charlotte?” Lyrem tilted his head, in feigned concern.

        She couldn’t stop staring at him, frozen in place- wondering if she was being silly, acting crazy, or just reading all correct the signs that told her to run.

        She shook her head, heart pounding. He was merely standing there. Maybe a bit close for comfort, but he wasn’t threatening her. Not outright.

        “I- I don’t know…” She answered hesitantly. “But… I don’t think I want you anywhere near me… or my child.”

        “Arch will always be safe with me. Of that, I can assure you. As for you, though,” Lyrem admitted, caringly. “You won’t have to worry about me being anywhere near you, at all, ever again.”

        Charlotte was backed against the door now, turning the knob to the front door, intent on running out.

        “I mean it, Charlotte. You are far too disrespectful to be in my company. And I feel bad for Arch. How they put up with you for so long... well, that requires a modicum of patience that I have never once possessed. Never fear, my dear Charlotte. I am doing this for their sake. It really is better this way.” he explained. “That is why I plan to…”

        “’Plan to’ what?” Charlotte asked, fear rising in the tremors of her voice.

        “Well, I suppose you’ll see when you open the door,” he rushed his words, ushering her to leave as she wished to do.

        Charlotte bolted around. The front door opened to a pool of darkness. There was no light, no sound, no nothing. She had yet to step forward. She didn’t say a word and only stared into the beckoning void

        “Just remember to breathe,” she was advised in a whisper from behind.

        Then, Lyrem pressed a firm hand against her back. Into the darkness Charlotte was shoved forward, until she was utterly gone- swallowed up into the shadows where the light would never reach her.

        Lyrem closed the front door. The light from outside returned as he opened it again- the Labyrinth now missing. Cars drove on past, children rode their bikes, chickadees and jays cheeped in the bushes, and the breezes signaled early summer as the aspens trembled along the boulevard. It was the sound of life.

        Still, there was no Arch to be found. Not down the street. 

        Not yet. 

        A soft purr sounded by Lyrem’s feet, then he felt the warmth of a cat curling around his ankles. He looked down, and picked Maleficent up to hold her close until she was just beneath his chin. Her long gray fur tickled the side of his face.

        “Do you want to be a part of my family too?” He asked, looking down at her  sweetly. Maleficent purred on, as Lyrem’s index finger stroked the side of her cheek firmly. “I’m sure we can make room for you.”

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Nothing Like Bonding During A Storm

Summary: In a modern world, Toothless has trouble adjusting to the surface world. Fortunately, he knows he can always count on Hiccup, even when nature's extremes bring down her wrath on the world.

Rating: General

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless

Words: 3 075

Author’s Notes:

That moment when you finish and post a one-shot about an AU that's been developing since February before finishing the actual main fic.

Anyway, I've been watching a lot of videos on YouTube about tornadoes and I find them very fascinating to look at. I often find myself wondering "how do people deal with possible natural disasters in a world that has ended" and this came to mind.

This is basically just dipping my toe in a concept with countless of possibilities and I will probably return to it later to explore it some more.

I have barely slept the past two days, I hope it doesn't show in this one-shot. It doesn't feel as exciting as I want it to be.

Also, hopefully I can finally get the main fic over and done with instead of daydreaming about it. I literally have another finished one-shot of this AU that I haven't posted yet.

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Enjoy!

Ao3

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Hiccup muses that today is simply the culmination of his hubris. His natural and unrestrained curiosity, his want to travel, his workaholic tendencies, having a best bud for a dragon who would love to explore this new surface world with him... All of this was bound to come back to bite him in the ass someday and today is that day.

Flying way, way out West in the hopes of finding more human settlements that wished to regain contact with others, Hiccup and Toothless find themselves far away from home.

Though his father was initially against it, his plan on returning the vast network of communication that mankind once had before it was taken from them turned out to be a fruitful one and that is the only reason why Stoick ever agreed on letting Hiccup stray even farther away from home.

He still isn't quite so keen on letting his son out of his sight, even after all these years.

So far this country has been just as empty as he already figured it would be before they left Berk. It's been days since he and Toothless arrived and they have yet to find a single remaining human settlement.

Plenty of birds, critters, and other local wildlife, but no humans.

Not that they have managed to explore much. They have found an abandoned town close to a beach and spend a little while combing through it, but once it became clear that it was empty, they moved on.

But finding no human life on this mission to do just that will have to wait. There is a matter far, far more urgent that needed their attention.

High up in the sky, Toothless rumbles his concern to his Rider. Hiccup is already looking in the same direction he is, the map in his hands temporarily forgotten.

"I know, Bud. I'm keeping an eye on it, too." He tells him and it's as if the dragon understands, relaxing just a tad bit with the knowledge that Hiccup is aware of it, too.

In and around the Northern island of Berk, extreme weather isn't something Hiccup is unfamiliar with. The Winters could get so cold, especially during the weeks that he and his people nicknamed "Devastating Winter". A fitting name for the below-freezing temperatures and the blizzards that buried their houses annually.

Many people from different countries have called them stupid for continuing to live here, but then, they are descendants of the Vikings that once lived there. So maybe their problem isn't so much stupidity as it is pure stubbornness.

And with climate changing, though it has most likely slowed down since the year everything went wrong, the temperatures during Winter are even colder than they used to be when Hiccup was a child. And the Summers so much warmer.

On the North Sea, you can expect the occasional waterspout as well. But so long as it didn't come on land, it wasn't too much of a threat, not too much. For the island's inhabitants, that is.

But the clouds Hiccup and Toothless see swirling are a little too threatening for their comfort.

They are dark, appearing to be stacked on top of one another to create an uneven tower as wide as it is tall with a thick saucer-like shape at the base. The clouds that make up each level appear restless, opposite from their usually fluffy nature.

Above them and the flying duo lies a dark, ominous blanket that stretches for miles. There is a strong wind, conflicting up and downdrafts fighting for dominance, and they make the clouds and column dance and swirl. There is a downpour of rain and hail beneath as well. It makes the area underneath it seem foggy.

Their appearance makes Hiccup's heart swell in awe-inspiring trepidation and he has to swallow as his mouth feels dry. Meanwhile, Toothless looks on in fear.

He still hasn't had much experience with the surface's weather. The sight of this dark sky makes him feel like his heart is about to burst right out of his chest.

Hiccup hasn't forgotten, of course. He knows his Bud is completely inexperienced and relies on his Rider to know what is best.

Thankfully, always having been quite fascinated by things that could potentially kill him ever since he was young, Hiccup has done his fair share of research on certain weather phenomena. Much like Fishlegs and his interest in geology and mineralogy.

What Hiccup is staring at right now, it could possibly be called a mesocyclone.

There is a supercell inside that thing and the winds around them are getting harder to fight.

Lightning weaves its way through the clouds for miles. There are multiple strikes and they follow each other closely, speaking volumes of the storm's electrical strength. The thunder is a good indication of how close Dragon and Rider are, too. It is deafening.

Mindful of the metal holding Toothless' prosthetic together, Hiccup decides it is wise to land.

Folding the map in his hands up and pulling his backpack to his front to stuff it away, Hiccup then continues to look at the world below them.

There is plenty of space to land, lots of open fields for miles around them. But with how close those clouds are, Hiccup would feel better if there is a shelter or something they can hide in. Preferably a storm shelter just in case that supercell had a particular surprise in store for them today.

"Down there, Bud! Let's land and see if we can ride it out there." Hiccup tells his Night Fury when he spots two buildings on the ground with a fence all around the perimeter. An abandoned machine stands in the middle of an overgrown cornfield. It looks to be a farm.

Right at that moment, the downpour catches up and soaks them both in seconds and the winds grow even fiercer. Quickly after, hail that grows to be almost the size of the palm of his hand.

Toothless lets out a panicked yell, startled by the sudden shower.

"I know, Bud, I know! Set down near that farmhouse! Those wooden houses over there!" His Rider points them out to him and he folds his wings for a quick dive. While holding onto the saddle, Hiccup attempts to shield his dragon's eyes from the hail.

They land on the dirt road before the home that is swiftly becoming muddy beneath their feet. Toothless wastes little time to jump underneath the roofed porch, escaping the rainfall. Hiccup dismounts, pats his dragon on the neck, and goes to work on finding that storm shelter.

Sunlight teases them from the edges of the miles of clouds, but it is much too risky to try and escape this storm. Not with the speeds at which this supercell is traveling and certainly not with winds so strong possibly dislocating wings as wide as Toothless'.

Leaving the restless dragon on the porch, Hiccup runs down the steps and back out into the downpour, his prosthetic slipping in the mud. His hair and his clothes already stick to his skin.

One look told him the entrance to their salvation wasn't there under the porch. But on farmland miles away from the nearest city and closest hospital and with weather like this not being completely uncommon, there has to be shelter around here somewhere

Running around to the side of the house, it isn't long before Hiccup finds a set of slanted metal doors leading to a concrete room underneath the home where the basement should be. Approaching it and finding it without a padlock, Hiccup opens both doors and finds a stone stairway down into darkness. It's a storm shelter.

The hinges of the two doors rattle slightly with the wind and that worries him, but this place will have to do. No use taking to the skies now.

Something spooks Toothless and he calls out to his Rider. In the rain, thunder, and the hail, Hiccup can only just hear him and he turns around, shielding himself from the large chunks of frozen water, to find a sight that makes him stumble. His eyes would've widened in wonder if the rain didn't make it too difficult to see.

At the base of the mesocyclone, the rapidly whirling clouds have formed a greyish funnel-like shape that reaches for the earth. Witnessing the birth of what could possibly turn into a tornado, one of nature's most dangerous phenomena, is truly astonishing and Hiccup can hardly put his feelings into words. Such a library of languages at his disposal and not one word can describe them.

It is fast, too, much faster than he previously anticipated, and the girth is quickly gaining width as well.

But enough staring in wonder at nature's lethal beauty, Hiccup can tell that Toothless worries. That Night Fury has never seen anything like this before and is rightfully freaking out.

But what he can't tell and Hiccup can, is that the swirling of dirt and debris on the ground means that the tornado has already touched down and the funnel simply needs to follow to make its conception complete.

Hiccup also realizes, much too his growing discomfort, that it is much closer than he originally thought.

"Come on, Bud!" Toothless doesn't need to be told twice and he comes with a leap. Looking down into the shelter, he gives Hiccup a skeptical look.

"Hey, I may be an idiot, but humans know how to build things." Hiccup tells him, shouts at him over the growing noise all around them, though he worries whether his dragon will actually fit.

"This will keep us safe, Bud, trust me." He places a hand on Toothless' head, scratches him behind his earfin. The rain is pouring, the hail is falling, and his heart pumps blood through his veins with great speed, but Hiccup still smiles as if aerial wrath isn't about to descend upon them.

Where he gets that kind of bravery, Toothless honestly doesn't know.

Reassured by his Rider's calm demeanor, Toothless finds it in himself to descend into the near pitch-black shelter. The pouring rain stops for him.

Toothless fits and Hiccup feels comforted by this. It is without a doubt not spacious down there, but at least they won't have to face a storm that size.

Speaking of which, he turns to face the monstrous clouds behind him and his breath is taken away.

There is something gorgeous about the display he sees before him.

The funnel now connects the earth and the sky. The clouds are dark, but still, the tornado contrasts greatly against the grey background. The rain doesn't hide its deadly beauty and its enormous size makes him feels insignificant and small. More so than even Toothless had upon their first meeting.

If he'd been born and raised in this country, he probably would've become a storm chaser, of that Hiccup is sure. If life hadn't been turned upside down on a global scale.

Sounding almost like a human groaning in annoyance, Toothless briefly leaves the shelter to grab Hiccup by the shirt and pull him down the stairs.

"Yep! I'm coming! I'm coming!" Snapping out of the trance that will probably kill him someday, Hiccup follows.

Why must the human be so attracted to things that are lethal him? Are all humans like this or just his? He knows Astrid is a lot more careful than Hiccup.

"Toothless, can you find the light switch? I've shown you what they look like, right?" Hiccup asks as he struggles to close the metal doors. The wind has picked up and dirt is starting to fly up outside. The neglected fields are being flattened and by now the rotting fence in view is knocked down. Debris is approaching and before long the tornado itself will be there.

Two trees are uprooted just as Hiccup manages to hold them close and he fights the urge to figure out the EF ranking of this specimen.

The light flickers on and Hiccup finds the latch to keep the entrance closed. Once again he is grabbed by the back of his shirt and he lets Toothless pull him further down. He is in a hurry to get Hiccup with him.

There are many dusty shelves down here, but besides cobwebs and the occasional spider, they are already empty. Plundered empty, most likely. Or the family that lived here, took everything and left. Either way, there isn't much room for something the size of a Night Fury.

Toothless lies curled up with Hiccup in the middle and still he can only move so much.

The roaring of the storm outside grows and grows and the doors aren't quite enough to keep it out. The house above them begins to creak and groan as the unforgiving winds beat it mercilessly.

Despite his size and his lethal nature, Toothless shrinks underneath the unfamiliar noise that sounds so much louder in his sensitive ears. He's never been through a storm this size before. And while Hiccup hasn't either, he at least knows and understands what is currently raging right above them, tearing apart everything in its path.

"Shh, it's okay." Hiccup kneels beside him, pulse just slowing down.

The dragon's instincts are screaming at him to get out and flee, his fear is almost suffocating. All that grounds him now is his human's presence. In the still short time that they've known each other, Hiccup has already proven himself to be far braver than Toothless can ever call himself, though his Rider would disagree. He trusts his judgment.

The house above them gives in beneath the endless abuse and is loudly ripped from its foundation. It is proof of the twister's power.

The dragon yells in Hiccup's face as if he even needs to be told and the human pulls his head onto his lap and embraces it.

He can't imagine how scary this must be for him. Before the surface world, Toothless didn't even know what rain was. So extreme weather like this was like a nightmare come to life.

Wrapping his forelegs around his Rider, Toothless finds solace with him.

The two don't know which is louder. The thunder booming above them or the roaring of the twister that, by all likelihood, is leveling everything above them.

Hiccup attempts to cover his Bud's ears. His own eardrums feel like they are about to burst.

This couldn't have lasted for more then a couple of seconds with the wind speeds this storm travels with, maybe a minute or two at most, but it felt like an eternity. Toothless' grip on his Rider tightens.

And then it passes.

The roaring leaves them, the explosive thundering moves on. Gradually, careful silence returns.

Their ears continue to drum for a little while longer.

Toothless moves to look up to Hiccup to see what the knowledgeable human thinks, but Hiccup shakes his head and pulls him back down.

They wait for at least an hour just to be sure.

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Toothless is close to napping when his Rider moves. Letting go, he raises his head to watch Hiccup rise awkwardly on his prosthetic.

He doesn't say a word as he climbs the stairs and out of Toothless' sight. The grating noise of metal sliding against metal reaches his ears and light comes shining down into the shelter.

Hiccup returns soon after with a smile.

"Come on out, Bud. It's safe now." He tells him and Toothless once again doesn't need to be told twice.

The air outside is relieving and welcomes the dragon as he ascends the stairs and exits the shelter. It is humid and a little chilly. Toothless takes a deep sniff and still smells the rain.

The tornado is gone and the wind has calmed. The once quaint farmland, though abandoned, is in ruins all around them. The long grass of the fields and the weeds lie flat against the ground, there is corn all around them, and trees are torn in two or entirely uprooted. Half of the barn has collapsed, but the house has been mostly leveled. Nearby lie the crushed remains of a metal contraption that humans call a car.

Turning his head, in the far distance, Toothless spots the dark tower and lightning is still striking. The thunder isn't as loud now.

But Hiccup isn't looking at the carnage. Hands on his hips, he is staring up at the sky.

Coming to stand next to him, Toothless follows his example.

The clouds above them, now tinted a lovely orange, are strangely shaped now. There is an entire blanket of them separating the earth and the sky above it. There are rows and rows of fluffy pouches that reflects the light of the sun beautifully.

He can see why Hiccup would smile at the sight. And in an area as abandoned as this, no human or dragon life was lost that they know of, so they can only bask in the moment.

"Glad we got that tornado warning, huh, Bud? The movies never said that we still needed to deal with natural disasters. Ah well, the joys of a post-apocalyptic world, I guess." Toothless doesn't know what his Rider is talking about, probably something he used to know from the time before their worlds met.

Hiccup kicks a nearby wooden board away and removes his backpack to check its contents. There are some things in there that can't get wet. Fortunately, it is a good backpack and everything inside it is still dry. He briefly ponders his raincoat, but leaves it. His plaid shirt and the one beneath it are already wet, no use pulling it out now.

But they were lucky, that is for sure. They are probably bruised, to be sure, but that the hail didn't hit them in the head, or the eyes in Toothless' case, is nothing short of a miracle. And to come upon this abandoned land with a storm shelter when they needed it most... If people still lived here then he and Toothless would have been forced to brave the storm.

Though they can still see flashes of lightning in the clouds in the far distance, the storm is dying. And with the sun setting in the horizon, Hiccup figures it is probably wise to find a nice spot to spend the night. Somewhere far away, where he would be certain they will be safe.

[meterokinesis]

Stars as Sharp as Knives

Read it on AO3

Prompt: stabbed

TW: Violence, PTSD, Disassociation

Summary: Tim remembered getting stabbed in vivid detail. The images were horrifying on their own, but together they formed a sick film that played on loop in Tim’s mind. Even after waking up the next morning, and the morning after that, he kept wondering: why am I alive?

Tim remembered getting stabbed in vivid detail.

In a job like this, where you either saved the day or ruined it all, he was used to cuts and scrapes and wounds. He anticipated them even, which the first aid kid he kept in his utility belt could attest to. But getting stabbed that night in the desert was something else.

The sound of steel through flesh. A cruel whisper. Blood, warm and sticky. Sand in his nose and eyes. Cool near-winter wind that ruffled through his hair. Dirt under fingernails. The weight of a body dragged behind him. Brick walls with metal stairs. A soft bed, with downy pillows stained rust.

The images were horrifying on their own, but together they formed a sick film that played on loop in Tim’s mind. Even after waking up the next morning, and the morning after that, he kept wondering: why am I alive?

This was a question he’d been asking himself for longer than he cared to admit. He was alive because no one had managed to kill him yet, and no more. If the universe had its way, he would be dead eight times over. Tim was just lucky, he supposed. But not lucky enough to escape the nightmares.

He remembered while attempting to sleep in the lavish jail cell Ra’s al Ghul concocted for him. He remembered while training with high level assassins, every time they went for a jab at his stomach. He remembered when Tam hugged him, and his reflex was to make sure she didn’t have a knife. He remembered on his first night back in Gotham, when he had to update his medical records to say “Patient has no spleen after a traumatic injury to the abdomen.”

The nightmares were the worst. They played out the scene in gory detail, each time with a new sort of reverence for Tim’s suffering. It wasn’t always the Widower who stabbed him; sometimes it was his father, or Jason, or Damian, or the mugger that killed Bruce’s parents. On bad nights, it was Bruce. On worse nights, it was Stephanie.

The nightmares persisted long after he defeated Ra’s al Ghul at Wayne Enterprises, long after Bruce finally returned and Tim was welcomed home with open arms. No, they lasted for months--every night a sick remembrance.

                                     ____________________

The first time he sparred with Dick after ending Ra’s plot, he used the new skills he picked up at the Cradle. At first they traded blows lazily, wearing down the floor by walking the same steps of a familiar dance. Then Tim dared to spin out--try one little move--and the game was afoot.

Tim didn’t pretend that he was better than Dick--he knew he wasn’t. But he had more range and was the better strategist, so at least their spars were interesting. They danced around the mat, neither submitting. Like all of their practices, it went until someone gave in or passed out. The Waynes never called out.

Dick went for Tim’s shoulder with his escrima sticks, which Tim blocked with his bo staff. By the time he registered the other stick moving toward his stomach, it was too late.

Forgoing all sense of etiquette, Tim roared and swung out with his staff, trying not to relish in the feeling of it connecting with Dick’s head.

“Jesus, Tim, what was that?” Dick’s voice floated from somewhere above. “I know we didn’t specify ‘no headshots’ but it seems like a giv- holyshitareyouokay?” It was then that Tim realized he was sitting on the ground, his head between his knees and his hands protecting his neck. In a way, he looked like the tornado drills they made him do at school, even though Gotham never had tornadoes. His body didn’t feel entirely real, like instead of inhabiting it like always, he was merely borrowing it for a second.

Dick’s voice, no doubt saying something reassuring, murmured in his ear. The words all blended together in a soup of pleasant sounds, one that Tim didn’t even attempt to decipher. Somewhere in the haze, he heard the telltale click of the comms, followed a few minutes later by heavy footfalls.

Bruce’s gruff voice took over for Dick’s soothing one, asking him questions that he didn’t know how to answer. Even if he could, he wasn’t entirely sure his mouth was still a mouth, let alone one that could form words. Instead, his brain gave him a front-row seat for the premiere of his least favorite movie in existence, where Dick stabbed Tim in the abdomen, his face contorted into something evil and totally unlike Dick. The Not-Dick didn’t stop after the first time, of course. Instead the scene rewinded over and over again, like a broken film from a museum about the tragedies of war.

Tim didn’t remember anything past that.

                                      ____________________

Tim woke up in his bed at the Manor, his heartbeat thunderous but slow. He opened bleary eyes to see Bruce sitting in the armchair near his window, reading a copy of the Wendy the Werewolf Stalker comic tie-ins Bart had given him last year for Hanukkah.

“Good morning. Or, should I say, evening. You almost slept for a full day,” Bruce said warmly, closing the book.

Tim didn’t return his tone. “Why are you here?” He demanded, clutching his blankets where they fell on his lap.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” Bruce avoided the question with trained ease, something Tim saw much too often in himself.

“I- Yeah. A little.” He remembered Dick stabbing him, but that couldn’t be Dick, right? They were in the desert, and it would take at least a day to get from the Syrian Desert to Gotham. His hand wandered over to his stomach. No open wounds or bandages, but there was a long scar.

“You disassociated. Do you know what that means?” Bruce asked, and Tim nodded mechanically. “We think that something during sparring practice triggered a trauma response.”

Tim heard the words, but he wasn’t sure his brain was following all the way.

“I’m fine, B. I just freaked out a little. No big deal.”

Bruce leveled his dad-stare at Tim. “Tim, with all due respect, that was not ‘freaking out a little.’ You were curled up in a ball on the mat, refusing to speak to us. When we managed to coax you into a sitting position, you attacked me. We had to put you in a safe hold until you calmed down.”

Tim opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“I think we need to talk about this. I understand if you don’t feel safe yet, you’ve been through a lot over the past year. I love you and I want to be here for you, but if a professional would help, we can do that too. Dick knows this guy in Metropolis-”

“No!” The word was out of Tim’s mouth before he could stop it, followed by a torrent of others. “I don’t need a shrink. I’m fine. Can I leave now? Or are you going to keep me prisoner like he did?”

“Of course not,” Bruce said, his voice heartbreakingly gentle. “This is your home, Tim. You can come and go as you please. However, I think we need to talk about-”

“Cool. Later.” Tim rolled out of bed and tugged on shoes and a jacket as Bruce tried to reason with him. They both knew that he could try to keep Tim here, either with logic or the threat of getting grounded, but neither would work. At his best, Tim was tenacious. At his worst, he was stubborn.

Tim traipsed down the grand staircase as Bruce followed behind him. Damian glowered at him from the sitting room, but at least he didn’t say anything. Dick was nowhere to be found. Tim pushed his way out of the manor, a small smile of satisfaction crossing his face when the door slammed and cut off Bruce’s pleas. It reminded him of every bad teen movie he’d ever watched, except the exhausted dad and pushy mom were replaced by Batman. Wasn’t that every kid’s dream?

                                       ____________________

He wandered through Bristol township, avoiding the spots he knew the paparazzi liked to frequent. Wouldn’t that be a million-dollar picture: Bruce Wayne’s high-school-dropout-turned-CEO son walking through the sea of McMansions in converse, a kid’s tracker bracelet, pyjama pants, and Cass’s purple NorthFace.

He was on some cul-de-sac where every house looked the same when he heard the telltale swish of someone following him. He didn’t turn around, just kept up his leisurely pace. Either they’d announce themselves, or they wouldn’t.

He got his answer when a hand snaked over his chest and a body pressed against his back, stopping him in his tracks.

“Hello, Detective,” Scarab whispered in his ear, and Tim’s veins turned to ice. Her hand cupped his face, and she slid around to his front. Tim didn’t believe in God, but he had no doubt that she was Satan incarnate.

“I have a gift for you,” she purred, her hands tracing his sides and back. He didn’t dare respond. “It’s from your friend.”

Tim swore his heart stopped. Ra’s al Ghul didn’t send gifts, he sent warnings. And threats. And death. Which is why he wasn’t entirely surprised when Scarab drove a knife into his chest with a sort of tender ruthlessness. She guided him to the ground, left a ghost of a kiss on his temple, and stepped out of view.

Tim lay gasping on the pavement, trying not to bleed out. His fingertips brushed the bracelet, weakly holding down to send out a tracking signal. If he was lucky, they’d see it. If not, then he’d die. It was that simple.

The stars here were dimmer than the ones in the desert. It was all the light pollution, he knew. Same stars, but an altogether different sky. There was a metaphor there somewhere, but he had lost too much blood to focus enough to find one.

His eyelids felt heavy, and it took everything in him to keep them open. Bruce would be here soon. He had to be. He was Batman, that’s what he did.

As Tim staggered through each breath, he couldn’t help but remark the irony of it all. He’d spent all this time worried about one old wound that he hadn’t seen the next one coming.

[dcbbw]

(last one, I promise!) Rachel prompt 28 - I'm alone and I just bought $15 in candy bars. What do you think?

Thanks so much for the ask, @zaffrenotes! I am using the DC Crew for this full-blown fic;  in the first chapter of Aftermath of a Breakup, the gang did not see each other over the Christmas Break. This is what they were doing instead of hanging out……

Prompt is in bold. Please excuse any typos and/or grammatical errors.

All characters belong to Pixelberry except Alyssa Devereaux; she belongs to @burnsoslow and is used with permission.

Song Inspiration: January, Millie Lee: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l3pIWpdzs2A

December 23

Riley

Riley stood in the feminine care aisle of her neighborhood CVS, braless under a tank top. Her sweatpants were loose around her waist and baggy everywhere else. She wore flip flops on her feet. Her hair was bushy and uncombed.

It was 12 degrees outside. She wore no coat.

Riley was not having a joyous holiday season. Ever since Drake Walker broke up with Riley at Target…her Target….life had not been good.

At work, her raise request had been turned down, and the Christmas bonus she received instead had been miniscule; while Maxwell used his bonus to pay off his credit cards, Riley was calculating how she could squeeze a dinner out and a tube of the new Bobbi Brown lipstick out of hers.

She wasn’t sleeping and was stress eating; her cart so far was filled with king sized chocolate bars, bags of some off-brand Cajun trail mix, and pints of ice cream.

If dealing with heartbreak and being broke wasn’t enough, Riley had a yeast infection, which is why she was now indifferently perusing her options for treatment. She tossed a box in the cart, and after a moment of thought, tossed in a box of Summer’s Eve as well.

As she dragged her feet up the aisle towards the cashier, she saw her Nosy Neighbor, Zack, headed her way. Inwardly, Riley rolled her eyes. The last person she wanted to see was anyfuckingbody. She mustered a tired smile and greeted her neighbor quickly.

“Riley, Riley, Riley! All set for Christmas?” Zack asked cheerfully.

Riley looked at him through slit eyes. Do I look ready for Christmas? Her tone, however, was neither sullen nor depressed, so she patted herself on the back for that.

“Just gonna be a quiet day for me”.

She eased past Zack towards the front of the store, hoping that was the end of the conversation. However, her neighbor followed behind her, still chatting. Riley tuned him out.

At the register, Riley pulled her items out of her cart, setting them on the counter. Zack reviewed her purchases, his eyes growing wide.

“Are you okay, Riley? That’s a lot of sugar!”

Riley kept her eyes on the counter, watching as the cashier swiped each item. “I don’t know, Zack. My boyfriend broke up with me less than three weeks ago. I’m alone and just bought $15 in candy bars. What do you think?”

Another candy bar was swiped. “Oh, my bad. $18 worth of candy bars.”

“I’m sorry, Riley”, Zack said softly. “You know, the church is having a dinner. You’re welcome to come.”

A sad smile crossed Riley’s lips. “Thanks, Zack. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

The cashier gave Riley her total; she dug in her pocket for her credit card.

Her card declined.

With a confused look, Riley ran the card two more times. Each time, it declined. The line behind her grew longer and a bit more impatient.

Riley couldn’t believe that on top of EVERYTHING ELSE, her card was freaking declining. To add insult to injury, it was the one with the highest credit limit.

Zack took out his card. “I got it, Riley. You can pay me back whenever.”

With tears in her eyes, Riley gathered her purchases and ran out the door.

“Merry Christmas, Zack!” she called over her shoulder in a broken voice.

Olivia x Max

Maxwell was stretched out on his couch, wearing nothing but his pajama pants. He was firing up the blunt he had just rolled. He inhaled deeply, feeling the acrid smoke fill his lungs. He exhaled with a deep sigh and smiled up at Olivia, who was straddling his lap.

Her hair was loose and fell in soft waves to her shoulders. She was wearing Maxwell’s pajama top and a lacy thong.

“Do you think we smoke too much weed?” he asked with a frown.

“It’s CHRISTMAS! Green is the color of the Christmas”, Olivia responded.

“So is red”, Maxwell countered.

Olivia clutched the bottle of merlot in her hand and held it aloft. “Which is why we have this baby!” she giggled.

The couple exchanged kisses between tokes and pulls at the wine bottle.

“You’re a Queen, you know”, Maxwell murmured against her skin.

Olivia shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

“You are!”, Maxwell insisted. He motioned for Olivia to get off him; when she did, he sat up, his gaze fixed on the scenery outside their living room window.

“We could live in this place far away. Cordonia! That’s its name! We could all live there! Be royals and nobles and shit.”

Olivia exhaled. “And what would we do there?”

“Noble shit! The guys would walk around with ivory tipped canes and wear monocles. And the ladies would wear fancy dresses and sip tea all day.”

“What roles would we have?”

Maxwell thought as he swigged wine. “Drake would definitely be a Duke. Of a real masculine sounding place…like Ramsford!

Madeleine would be noble but barely…. she’d be like a Baroness or a Countess or something. Her place would have a weird name.”

“Valtoria!” Olivia proclaimed.

“Riley…. she’s a Duchess for sure. Of Fydelia!”

“She could change the name to Rydelia!”

“Liam…. he’s like a Lord or something. Of Krona.”

Olivia frowned. “Krona sounds too masculine. You should make Drake Duke of Krona, and Liam the Lord of Ramsford.”

Her green eyes took in Maxwell. “And what about you?”

Maxwell thought. He reached for the blunt. “I don’t think I’m Duke material. I would probably be a Lord or something. Of Lythikos! There would be mountains and snow and stuff so I could ski and sled year-round.”

“And what about me?” Olivia demanded as she reached for the wine bottle.

Maxwell’s arm went around her shoulder as he pulled her closer. “You’re the Queen, my dear.”

“Who’s my King?”

“Bertrand. He’s the King.”

“Over my dead fucking body!” Olivia swatted Maxwell’s thigh.

“You two could have an arrangement or something. A Cordonian arrangement! And I, the Lord of Lythikos, would be your most loyal servant.”

Olivia stood, stretching her lithe body. “Well, come along, loyal servant; we have gifts to wrap before the munchies overtake us.”

Leo x Madeleine

“What can we take that won’t trigger Mother?” Madeleine asked as she and Leo wandered Whole Foods.

They were spending Christmas Eve with her mother, who was a newly recovering alcoholic. Adelaide had been sober a little over thirty days. Madeleine picked up a carton of egg nog; it had alcohol in it. She searched for a non-alcoholic version.

“Your mother drank anything that had liquor in it and made sure it did have alcohol when it didn’t. For over twenty years. At this point, liquids period is a trigger”, Leo said. “We should stick with tea, water, and soda.”

“I want to support my mother, Leo! She’s making strides to get better, to be better!”

Leo pulled Madeleine closer to him; one arm went around her waist, his hand splayed against her back. The other hand took the carton of egg nog from her hand and tossed it back into the dairy case.

“I know you do, Mads. I want to support her as well. But you can’t be her babysitter. If she didn’t think she could handle a dinner party, she wouldn’t be throwing one.”

“But Father will be there……” Madeleine’s voice drifted off as Christmas carols blared from speakers.

Leo’s eyes narrowed and his jaw tensed a little. “Did she invite him?”

Madeleine shook her head. “I don’t know. All she said was we were invited, and Father was coming.”

“That bastard has some nerve! Okay, change of plans. Your mom is coming to our place!”

Madeleine looked up at Leo, her green eyes hopeful and uncertain at the same time. “Are you sure?”

“Addy has thirty days under her belt. I want to see her get thirty-one. Godfrey being anywhere near her guarantees she goes back to Day Zero. She’ll stay with us through the New Year. She can sleep in our room and we’ll take the sleeper sofa.”

“But you just said we can’t babysit her”, Madeleine reminded him.

“She’s about to step out in front of a bus traveling at high speed down a narrow road. We’re protecting her.”

“I love you so much!!” Madeleine was near tears as she hugged Leo tightly.

Leo kissed her hair. “Same here. Now, you call your mom while I see if they have any cookbooks in this bitch.”

Drake x Alyssa

Drake’s eyes were fixed on the road as he drove Alyssa to the airport. Alyssa was singing along with a 90s song on the radio. Her hand rested lightly on top of Drake’s as DCA loomed in the distance.

“I wish you didn’t have to go”, Drake muttered as he changed lanes.

“Shhhhhh…I’m serenading you”, Alyssa scolded.

Drake grinned as he shook his head. How did this little tornado bowl him over so quickly? She made him smile, she made him tingle, she made him feel complete in a way no one had before.

Not even Brooks.

Guilt and sadness filled him at the thought of Riley. He needed to talk to her, but he had no idea what to say. Sorry wasn’t going to cut it, and Drake wasn’t good with words. He was shaken from his thoughts by Alyssa asking him if he enjoyed her singing to him.

“Of course, Devereaux. You should stay and give me an encore.”

“When I get back! And if we’re still together this time next year, I’ll bring you with me. Daniel and my friends will be thrilled to meet you!” Alyssa promised, her blue eyes meeting his brown ones.

“If we’re still together next Christmas, I’m taking you to Texas.”

“Christmas needs cold and snow, not swimming pools and shorts!”

Drake took the exit to enter the airport. “When you come back, if you’re up for it, I want to introduce you to my friends. We get together about once a month or so and hang out. Dinner, movies, bowling……that kind of stuff.”

“I’d like that”, Alyssa said softly.

Her eyes grew anxious. “What will you be doing on Christmas Day? I don’t want you to be alone.”

Drake shrugged. “Sleep. Watch basketball. Dinner with my sister, her fiancé, and my nephew.” He leaned over and snatched a quick kiss. “Missing you.”

“Stop making me fall for you!” Alyssa giggled as she pushed his arm lightly.

“I’ve already fallen. Join me, won’t you?” Drake said softly.

“I might take you up on that offer.” Alyssa tightened her hold on his hand.

Drake pulled up to the doors to the airline; he shut his truck off and rushed around to open Alyssa’s door. He lifted her from the seat and helped her out. She grinned up at Drake, her eyes shiny with tears. She stood on her toes, throwing her arms around his neck.

“I’m going to miss you so much!” She pressed her pink lips against his.

“You’re back on the 28th, right?

Alyssa nodded. “Late flight, though.”

Drake kissed her again. “I don’t care if it lands at 2am. Let me know when your flight is due back. I’ll be here.”

After a lingering kiss and a tight hug, Drake pulled Alyssa’s suitcase from the back of the vehicle and walked her to the doors.

As a bitter cold wind blew through his wool coat as if it were a cotton shirt, Drake waved to Alyssa until he couldn’t see her anymore.

Liam

Liam pulled underwear and socks from his dresser drawer to toss into his suitcase. He had his Santa socks, his Christmas tree socks, his jingle bell socks, his reindeer socks. He frowned as he looked for his socks with the gift boxes; ahhhh, there they were!

He was going to Boston for Christmas. It wasn’t his original plan.

Liam had wanted to stay in DC, come into the office while everyone else was on vacation, get some work done.  Spend time with his friends, maybe go out for Chinese food and a movie on Christmas Day with Riley B. Or maybe Riley B. would cook Christmas dinner, and he could go to her place. Liam wouldn’t even have minded the fact that Drake would’ve been there.

Anything to take his mind off the fact that he was alone at Christmas when he wasn’t ready to be.

But when he met up with the gang last week, neither Riley nor Drake were there. Madeleine and Leo were going to her mother’s for a Christmas Eve dinner party and staying overnight. Maxwell and Olivia were going to Bertrand’s for the day and staying for dinner.

Liam figured Riley and Drake had plans as well, probably visiting Riley’s family in North Carolina. So Liam would be alone this Christmas, and the thought of going to an empty office drained him of his motivation to prove that he was worthy of the promotion.

After dinner with the gang, Liam had called his mom and told her he wanted to come home for Christmas. Eleanor had been ecstatic; she missed her sons.

“Is your brother coming?” she asked excitedly. Leo was not her biological child, but Eleanor considered him her own.

“Not this time. He’s going with Madeleine to see her mother. And he has to work the day after Christmas.”

“Well, we’ll see him next time! And we can Skypetime him or something! Now, I’m making a turkey and a leg of lamb. And my oyster dressing. And corn. And mashed potatoes with sour cream and giblet gravy.”

“Mom, you know I hate oyster dressing!” Liam protested.

“Your father loves it! I’ll make two dressings, but yours is coming out of a box.”

“Why can’t you just scoop mine out before you add the oysters?” Liam frowned.

“Stop frowning! Maybe I can do that…. we’ll see. You eat your weight in dressing, Mister!”

“How did you even know I was frowning?” Liam asked curiously.

“You’re my son. I know what you do!”

Liam smirked thinking that if his mom knew all he did……

“I know you do that too! So when will you be here?”

“Looking up flights now.”

“Let us know so I can have your father pick you up.”

“I can Uber, mom. You guys don’t need to come pick me up!”

“Nonsense. Your father will be there. Okay, gotta go……600 Pound Life is coming on, and I need inspiration to stick to my diet!”

Liam tossed in pants and sweaters; after some internal debate, he tossed in his work laptop. He had reached out to some old friends still in Boston, so hopefully he wouldn’t be working, but just in case. His packing done, he glanced at the clock. He had an early flight out in the morning, but he wasn’t sleepy.

He was thinking about Riley B. and what she was doing. He wondered what Drake bought her for Christmas. He hadn’t asked anyone for suggestions as he usually did. Liam wondered if it was a ring.

His eyes fell on the wrapped present he had bought for Riley B. They hadn’t done Secret Santa this year, but Liam knew Riley B. would love the bottle of Coco Chanel Mademoiselle. It was one of her favorite scents.

Liam decided to wait to see what Drake got her; it was five years now for them. Time to put a ring on it or let her go. If Drake did give her a ring, it could be an engagement present.

Liam hoped it wouldn’t be.

With a sigh, he climbed into bed and turned off the lamp. He grabbed his phone and texted Riley, wishing her a Merry Christmas.

She responded back almost immediately. Merry Christmas, bestie.

Liam stared at his screen before sending his response. You’re my best friend, too.

He rolled over, closing his eyes, phone clasped in his hand. I love you.

  Tagging: @sirbeepsalot @wannabemc2 @topsyturvy-dream @jared2612 @katedrakeohd @hopefulmoonobject @custaroonie @i-am-liam-rhys @jovialyouthmusic @thequeenofcronuts @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @amomentofsinclairity @bobasheebaby @ao719 @sashatrr @marietrinmimi @ladyangel70 @gardeningourmet @umccall71 @angi15h @romanticatheart-posts @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @blznbaby @tabithacarlisle @emceesynonymroll @bbrandy2002 @ab1901 @janezillow @debramcg1106 @radlovedreamer @jessiembruno @lodberg @thecordoniandiaries @ramseyandrys @caroldxnvxrs @princess-geek @burnsoslow @annekebbphotography @merridithsmiscellany-blog @emichelle @indiacater @loveellamae @forthebrokenheartedthings-blog @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @bebepac @zaffrenotes @queenjilian @princessleac1

[yellowmagicalgirl]

A Different Sort of Rage

“Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief.“ – Anne Carson

OR

Toby grieves Claire. He also helps to save the world, again.

You know, at least once while writing this, I asked myself why I’d even bother. Claire doesn’t affect 3Below Season 2 at all, so why would that change because she’s dead? Well, Toby deserved better.

That’s right, almost a year later, the 3Below Interlude to Juliet Dies in This has been completed! That being said, you don’t need to have read Juliet Dies in This to understand this story; you just need to know it’s an au where Claire didn’t make it out of the Shadow Realm during the Eternal Night.

If you did read Juliet Dies in This, then this takes place between chapters 3 and 4.

Trigger/spoiler warning: there is drowning, mild body horror, and talk of suicide in this fic.

AO3

FFN

Toby clung to a set of wooden planks with one arm; the other was wrapped around Jim’s unconscious body. Saltwater slammed against his lower body, cold and angry. On the other side of the planks was Claire and a heavy anchor connected to a length of chain. With each moment that passed, the planks splintered just a bit more. Too much longer, and there wouldn’t be enough wood to hold on to.

“Can you keep the planks steady for me?” Claire asked. “Then I can shove the anchor into the ocean, and we won’t have to worry about it.”

“Be careful,” Toby said, adjusting his grip on the planks and Jim. Claire hoisted her entire body onto the planks. With a grunt she lifted the anchor and began to scoot it to the ocean.

She was about to drop it when the chain glowed gold and wrapped around her.

Toby didn’t let go of Jim, who would surely drown with no one holding onto him.

Toby didn’t let go of the planks, because he wasn’t a strong swimmer even without a friend to hold on to.

Toby didn’t grab Claire. Instead, he watched in horror as she fell into the cold ocean, her hair indistinguishable with the blackness that she was pulled into.

And then Toby woke up. It had been a while since he last had nightmares about drowning and sinking boats. He had had one or two back when Jim had been in the Darklands. Most of this species of nightmare had occurred before he started puberty but had been old enough to really understand just what had happened to his parents.

“Wingman okay?” AAARRGGHH!!! asked.

“Yeah,” Toby said. “It was just a dream.” He glanced at his clock. 12:51 am. He loved having a semi-normal sleep schedule again, but with most of his friends being nocturnal phone calls weren’t always easy. Oh, well. He was awake anyways; may as well call Jim and Claire.

Wait.

Claire didn’t go to Jim and Blinky to find a Heartstone in New Jersey. Claire had disappeared into a black void and Toby had been the one to lock her in.

So that was why he had that dream.

Toby put a reminder on his phone to look into what mental health options his nana’s health insurance had and then went back to sleep. Or at least, he tried to.

Sunshine streamed through the stained-glass windows of the Catholic church that Claire’s funeral was held in, which meant that even if trolls were allowed to go, they couldn’t have. Claire had family outside Arcadia, and to them she had died because she got trapped under rubble in the freak earthquake-and-tornado that had occurred.  To them, Claire was inside the coffin, though badly mutilated by rocks that had slammed into her.

Her body was probably mutilated by Morgana, come to think of it.

Toby tugged at his tie. This felt so stupid. Claire was a hero, and her extended family wasn’t allowed to know. He understood, though. They didn’t want to get anyone from the government involved, at least, the non-local government, since obviously Claire’s mom and thus the rest of the city council involved. The trolls were weakened, and Toby didn’t know if they were bulletproof.

It was probably for the best that trolls weren’t allowed to attend the funeral, but that didn’t mean that Toby wasn’t angry with the situation. AAARRRGGGHHH!!! had been Claire’s friend, too. He should be here. Besides, he hadn’t been the one responsible for this mess.

The unsettling calm in the week-and-a-half since the Eternal Night had given Toby a lot to think about. Specifically, how everything had gone wrong.

He should have smacked Morgana into the Shadow Realm with his warhammer and then destroyed the staff. He should’ve been smarter. He had been fighting alongside Claire for months; surely, they could’ve come up with something so that she would be either in Arcadia or on the road to New Jersey.

There was one thing about this funeral that wasn’t a farce: Claire was dead. Toby didn’t think Morgana would be interested in keeping Claire alive. After Merlin cleared away the Eternal Night, Jim had proposed going to Trollmarket to see if there was anything in Blinky’s library to see if it could help them save Claire. Blinky had told them that he had had one book on constructing magic items, but it was among the first of Dictatious’s books he had burned. Strickler, for all the dark magical knowledge he had from the Book of Ga-Huel, had nothing on making a new Shadow Staff. Probably to keep the changelings from rebelling against their Lady Creator, the former history teacher had mused.

To Toby’s right, Darci and Mary and their families stood for a prayer. Toby’s eyes traveled upwards to the rafters. One troll, or rather, changeling, had made it despite the odds. NotEnrique would probably deny the fact that he had been crying later.

“Dude, you sent me a thousand texts, what is your data plan?” Toby asked as he crawled through Eli’s window. It was easier than he had expected, despite his gym pass not feeling as intense of a work-out as fighting trolls and sparring Jim and – sparring in the forge. That was, that was pretty good, actually, he wouldn’t be the reason for anyone else getting hurt or worse if he tried to keep getting stronger.

“Some of them might’ve been queued up,” Eli said, shrugging as he held up a flashlight under his chin. “I… this is important, but I thought I could’ve gathered more evidence and, well…” Eli frowned and dropped the self-important tone. “I wanted to give you some time, since the funeral was a couple days ago.”

The light returned to Eli’s eyes, or maybe it was just the flashlight glinting off his glasses. His voice once more took on an air of self-importance. “Now, Tobes, are you ready for me to rock. Your. World?”

Toby glanced over at his girlfriend and Mary, who was complaining about boredom. Toby’s hands curled into fists. They had been friends with Claire for longer than he had been, how could they be so, so normal?

“TP, come here! I wanna talk to you about something!” Steve called from where he was leaning against Aja and Krel’s house.

“Don’t call me that.”

“I mean, it means vaguely the same thing as buttsnack but nicer?” Steve said as Toby made his way over to the house.

Toby rolled his eyes. Well, at least one person realized why he hadn’t wanted that nickname. If only Claire had realized that, before she, before she, before she had spread it around the school.

Toby blinked several times, trying to get the stinging sensation out of his eyes. “What do you want?”

“Dude, relax,” Steve said quietly enough as to not let Mary and Darci hear from their spot by the pool.

“Relax? Relax?” he whisper-shouted. “How am I supposed to relax when we’re in the middle of a war that will decide the fate of not only Earth, like the one with Gunmar and Morgana, but also Aja and Krel’s planet too? I relax, people die. If I’m not alert, someone else has to take the hit for me. If I don’t pay enough attention, then I’m the one responsible for trapping someone in an alternate dimension!”

Steve just looked at Toby for what felt like five insufferably long minutes.

“Stop freaking out,” Steve said, pinching his brow. “Or else you’ll be so high strung that you’ll end up swinging your oversized mallet at the wrong thing.”

“Warhammer,” Toby corrected, even though Steve did have a point.

Toby’s therapist said that it was important to have hobbies. Between trollhunting and school, Toby was used to having to be constantly alert and vigilant, and that may have been helping to contribute to his restless mind. Granted, Toby hadn’t told his therapist about the ruthless Akiridion dictator trying to attack Earth because that probably fell into the “I will alert the authorities if you’re going to harm yourself or others” clause in the doctor-patient confidentiality forms he and his nana had signed. However, filmmaking was both a good way to bond with his friends as well as maybe destress.

Pretending that he was only interested in making a short film made him seem vapid, like less of a threat. He didn’t trust these military goons, but he also knew they probably underestimated him. What could a short, fat kid with a warhammer possibly do to them?

Rule One of Trollhunting was to always be afraid, with the caveat of goblins. If Area 49-B was unafraid of Toby, then they’d underestimate him.

Besides, these people wanted to capture all sorts of extraterrestrials. Who knew what they’d do to trolls?

Toby still didn’t know if trolls were bulletproof or not. He got the feeling they wouldn’t be laser-proof.

Angor Rot hadn’t been laser-proof, if that’s what Morgana’s magic had been.

Angor had been their enemy, but he had saved them, too.

Tronos had been their enemy, but he had just saved the entire world.

“Get in my phone!” Toby yelled at the armored extraterrestrial as the Area 49-B goons approached, clearly interested in his warhammer. It reminded him a little of the robbers who had kidnapped them.

“What?”

“You did it before! I’m not letting anyone else die.”

Toby and Tronos barely escaped with the others.

“Okay, so, just so that we're clear, by ‘Earthly forces’, you mean me, Eli, Steve…” Toby said, covering his mouth to hide the sound from Darci. He didn’t want to worry her.

“And the brute,” Zadra said. “Yes.”

“Technically, AAARRRGGHH!!!’s a troll.”

“I'm not confident about your chances, but these are desperate times.”

“Well, not even the word ‘hopeless’ is void of hope, I guess,” Toby said.

“What?”

“Trollish saying. I, we’ll do our best.” The call ended; Toby turned to his girlfriend. “Hey, babe, you seem like you got this stapling thing down pat.”

Darci crossed her arms, suspicion in her eyes. “Toby, what’s going on?”

“It’s… a long story.”

“Then start talking.”

Toby looked away from his girlfriend.

“Is it more troll stuff?” she asked.

“No…”

“Then what’s. Going. On?” Darci grabbed his hand. “Toby, I’ve been to enough funerals this year. I don’t want to go to any more of them, and I really don’t want to have to go to another funeral angry that the person I cared about lied to me about the supernatural battles they were fighting. Not when I could’ve maybe helped.”

Toby sighed. “Okay, to make a long story short, there is life on other planets, including a planet called Akiridion-V. That’s Aja and Krel’s home, but it was taken over.” Toby tugged his hand away from Darci’s, giving her an apologetic look. He grabbed his warhammer and expanded it. “And the guy who took it over is going to attack their house so I really gotta go make sure they’re safe so bye I promise I’ll tell you more later!”

Between all the other problems of his life, having a creative outlet was a great way to destress. Usually. Theoretically. Considering that Chompsky broke character on every take, this was really just another source of stress.

His film wasn’t as important as the Akiridions in orange pods.

“Are those your parents?” he asked Aja and Krel. “Do you want me to help?”

“No, we’ve got it!” Krel shouted, waving him off as he, Aja, Varvatos, and Stuart set up the daxial array.

“What are you doing?” Aja asked.

“Well, while I was holding down the fort, I thought I’d finish my director’s cut.” Toby scowled. “But then Chompsky started acting out.”

There was chattering that only one who had lived with a gnome for months would understand. He was almost surprised that Bagdwella never learned how.

“No, I can’t make you taller in post!” Toby had a realization as he walked away from the gnome. “Wait, does this mean you’re going home soon? Back to Akiridion-V?”

“Of course,” Krel said with a glance towards his parents. “That was always the plan.”

Right. The plan. Aja and Krel were going to leave him. They had more important things to do than live a life in Arcadia Oaks. They were royalty from another planet.

“But wait, not yet!” Toby protested. He wanted more time with his new friends, and maybe he had just the thing to get them to stay. “I’ve got good news! Captain Kleb is going to premiere before Gun Robot 7 at the local drive-in!”

“That’s amazing,” Krel said, sounding surprised. He gave an almost incredulous chuckle. “All our friends are going to be there!”

Not all of Toby’s friends, but a good portion of them.

“Yeah,” Toby said, less enthusiastic than he was a moment before. “We’ll be local celebrities.”

Maybe they city would dedicate a nice park bench to him, for all his combined work as a filmmaker, trollhunter, and crook-catcher. He didn’t deserve an entire street, even though Domzalski Drive had a nice ring to it. Besides, Jim Lake Lane and Claire Court sounded better, more fitting.

“Your moving picture party will be the perfect way to celebrate after we stop Morando,” Aja said, breaking Toby out of the beginnings of yet another depressive spiral.

Toby turned to Aja, Krel, AAARRRGGHH!!!, and Varvatos. Sure, the crystal staircase didn’t light up with each step, but they were about to see the most incredible place ever! It deserved every bit of gravitas that he, Jim, and Claire had been given. “Welcome,” he said in his best impression of Jim and Blinky, “to Heartstone Trollmarket!”

Toby gasped.

“This is ‘the most incredible place ever?’” Krel said.

“Was,” Toby sighed, “before the Eternal Night.”

It was probably a good thing, that Blinky and Jim went to New Jersey so they wouldn’t have to see it. That Claire, Draal, and Vendel would never have to see it. The darkened, broken heartstone and the rubble-strewn streets were horrible to see; this was a place that Toby had considered to be practically a second home. He could only imagine just how terrible his Wingman must have felt at the sight of it.

“I know what it’s like, to lose one’s home,” Aja said as they passed by Bagdwella’s old shop. She was better at comforting AAARRGGHH!!! than Toby himself was. Probably Krel and Varvatos, too. They had left behind their homeplanet, and their house was gone, too.

“Your friends, Jim, Blinky, and the trolls are safe, and that’s what matters the most,” Krel said. Toby was about to thank him for the reassurance – he had gotten good at dealing with human feelings – when rocks collapsed.

Varvatos was right. There was definitely an aura of death and decay. Stupid Morgana, ruining everything.

“That looks… deep.” Varvatos said.

“How do we get down there?” Aja asked.

“We don’t!” Toby said. Memories of watching Jim’s cage fall filled his mind. “If you go down there then you face your deepest fear!”

“Why would anyone want to do that?” Krel asked. The light from the Soothscryer came back up again insistently.

“It’s a long story,” Toby said as the light spiraled downwards once more. “Jim made it out alive, and unfortunately, he’s the only one who has.”

“We don’t have much choice,” Aja said. “We have to find Gaylen’s core before Morando.”

Krel held two of his arms in front of his sister. “I’ll go!”

“No, if we have to fight then it’s better to have safety in numbers. We’re stronger together,” Toby said.

“But you and Varvatos need to fight whatever’s coming,” Krel said as Aja pulled out her hoverboard.

“We will,” AAARRRGGHH!!! said. He raised his voice to a slightly higher pitch. “So, fight!” he imitated, before lowering his voice. “Make proud, Wingman.”

“Will do.” Toby pulled out his warhammer and followed the Tarron siblings down into the Deep.

Unfortunately, Toby followed them straight into a stony wall.

Toby stood on a dock, watching a cruise ship sail away. His nana waved good-bye to him, along with two relatively young adults. They were familiar, just like the ship was. They were familiar from blurry memories and from morbid curiosity because at age twelve, Toby wanted to know just how his parents died.

“Don’t go,” Toby pleaded softly, but he knew it was no use. He looked over his shoulder and caught Jim’s eyes.

“Well, bye, then,” Jim said flippantly. He began to walk away, and Toby realized that so did all the other trolls. Darci, and Dr. Lake, and pretty much everyone Toby knew walked with them.

Toby tried to catch up, but each step was a herculean effort. Eventually, everyone passed beyond the horizon. It started to rain, and Toby realized that he had managed to find his way to the bridge where everything always went down.

A dark sliver appeared in the thin air in front of him. It widened, and Claire stepped out of it. Except “stepped” wasn’t quite the write word, not with how her limbs and neck bent at all the wrong angles. Golden manacles with small lengths of broken-off chains were attached to her wrists and ankles. A noose connected her neck to the Shadow Realm, and when the portal closed Claire collapsed, almost like a puppet whose strings were cut. She caught herself at the last second, dust swirling off the bridge to reform the Shadow Staff in her hand. She stretched each of her limbs as they popped into place with the sound of crunching bones and scraping metal. She then rolled her neck, the noose catching on one of the spikes of her helmet. It didn’t seem to bother her, but it added a gruesome effect.

Claire’s brown eyes opened, going from blank to full of hatred in the span of an instant. “You,” she said. Her voice echoed above the sound of rain and distant thunder. “You let me die!”

She lunged for him, and Toby found that the sluggishness to his limbs was gone as he jumped out of the way.

“You killed me!” she screamed, disappearing through a portal. She came out from almost directly above him, staff pointed to skewer him.

Toby caught it with his warhammer, sending it away from himself. “You, you told me to. You told me to break the staff,” Toby said.

Claire attempted to stab him in the back. “And you didn’t think to wait, did you? You didn’t think that maybe you should have waited for Blinky to have saved me?”

“There was no time, and you know this.” Toby knocked the Shadow Staff out of her hands. It crumbled into ash. “It’s not my fault that you didn’t think of any other way to end Morgana. It’s… it’s not my fault that you’re dead!”

The rain stopped, and the clouds started to part. As Claire looked up to the sky, Toby realized that he was crying.

The sun was eclipsed by the moon and then by even darker clouds. Claire closed her eyes as it began to rain again, this time even harder than before.

“You want to know what’s the best part of being dead?” she asked in an eerily soft voice.

She opened her eyes. They were purple and black. “I don’t have to look at your stupid fucking face anymore.”

Claire lunged for him, knocking his warhammer out of his hands. She pinned him down with one hand. “No one wants to have to look at it. And I’m going to be the fucking martyr that makes sure no one will ever have to again.”

And then she began to punch his face, the edges of her clawed armor piercing him. With each punch more cracks began to grow on her face and hand, but Claire didn’t seem to notice them. She didn’t look like she was in pain like the last time she had grown those cracks. If anything, the lightning glinting in her eyes made her look sadistic.

And then Toby woke up.

“I did it,” Krel said, overjoyed. “I did it!”

“I’m proud of you, little brother,” Aja said, rubbing at her arms. She sounded spooked. “Congratulations, you probably beat me by half a mecron. What… what did you see?��

“Morando destroying Arcadia Oaks and everyone in it, which he’ll do if he gets Gaylen’s core,” Krel said with a slight frown. “And you?”

“The same, but with Akiridion-V,” Aja said. The two of them turned to Toby.

They were going to have to leave anyways; they didn’t need to know that Toby’s worst fear was a combination of Claire hating him in her dying moments and everyone he cared about leaving him.

“Oh, well…” Toby gave a slight chuckle, and hoped that they’d believe the fat stigma. “Dieting.”

They had no time to question his lie because Varvatos and AAARRRGGHH!!! came crashing in.

“Purple. Pretty,” AAARRRGGHH!!! said, gazing at the altar to Gaylen’s core.

“Claire would have loved to have seen this,” Toby sighed, and then startled with a realization. “Kanjigar, do you know if Draal and Claire are, you know, resting in peace?”

Unfortunately, the previous Trollhunter had gone back to the void.

Toby supposed it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, not with Aja and Krel being shot down. Still, closure that his friends were okay in the end would have been nice.

“Where’s Krel and Varvatos?” Toby asked as he dismantled yet another OMEN. “Would be nice to get a little more help.”

“Krel’s working on getting us some reinforcements,” Aja said, “and Varvatos is protecting my parents and Stuart. I trust him enough to not try to power the canon with my parents’ cores twice.”

“Wait, why would he do that? He’s not evil enough to power things up using unwilling people!”

“I thought that too, but since two royal cores are needed it’ll be Krel and I and not my parents.”

“No.” Toby brought his warhammer down enough that deep cracks were left in the concrete where the OMEN once stood. “Aja, you can’t. That’s suicide.”

“It’s not suicide, Toby. It’s sacrifice. Of all people, I thought you understood that.”

“Oh, trust me. I understand that. I also understand that those two look really similar sometimes. Aja, promise me that I won’t have to attend any more of my friend’s funerals this summer.”

“I can’t, but that’s why Krel’s working on reinforcements. I don’t want to do this, but I will if that’s what it takes.”

Toby would have argued had an OMEN not thrown a truck at a random kid. There had to be another way, one that wasn’t trying to fight a losing battle. One where all his friends made it out.

“He’s too strong,” Toby said. “He’s stronger than…”

No.

Morando was not stronger than Morgana. He couldn’t let himself believe that. They were all going to live, and no one was going to sacrifice their life for the good of everyone else, even if they were on the very same bridge where Angor and Claire died.

And Toby had legitimate hope when Zadra and various ships from Akiridion-V came through the wormhole.

Except they weren’t enough. Morando grew red wing-like appendages and created a massive explosion of red light.

“Morando is too powerful,” Krel said.

As the Tarron siblings hugged each other for what shouldn’t be the last time, Toby tried to think of another way to kill Morando.

“Go back to town,” Aja said. “Make sure everyone’s safe! And… I’m sorry, Toby. There’s a reason why I didn’t promise.”

“On it!” Steve said. “Please don’t get stepped on!”

“You too, my Palchuk!” Toby couldn’t tell if it was cruel or not for Aja not to say goodbye.

There had to be a third option.

“What are you waiting for, give me a ride!” Steve shouted. Toby fired up his warhammer.

Morando was at least as strong as Morgana. Maybe he was stronger. Two people would die. Someone’s hand would get cut off by a –

There was another way.

Toby set Steve down and began to fly off in the opposite direction.

“Where are you going, buttsnack?” Steve shouted.

“To save your girlfriend’s life!” Toby began searching through his phone to find the number for Akiridion-V. They could try to open a portal from within Morando’s body, and hopefully Akiridion anatomy was such that it would kill him.

It was probably a good idea that Toby had used his warhammer instead of the Shadow Staff. Too gruesome.

He was on the second ring when he watched Aja and Krel fire the canon.

He felt relief, and then guilt.

It was over.

Toby didn’t know what to say. Aja, Krel, and everyone else from Akiridion-V were leaving. So were the Foo-Foos and Eli.

“Do you have to leave?” It was selfish. Of course they had to leave. Toby closed his eyes and tried to drown out Deep-illusion-Claire’s words. They weren’t leaving because of him; Aja and Krel had to go and rule an entire planet.

“Thanks for keeping that promise about me not going to your funeral”? Too selfish. It put the focus too much on him.

“Being an orphan isn’t so bad, just look how I turned out”? Too insensitive, considering that he could barely remember his parents.

“Sorry about your parents, but I’m glad they’re dead instead of you”? That wouldn’t stop the guilt.

Except, Krel was staying.

Toby would figure out something comforting to say, eventually.

The world was going to end. Again. And this time, Toby’s new allies were a talking, bipedal cat and a pair of teenagers who were currently going through their emo phase. Said emo teens were about a year older than Toby, and supposedly they were wizards, but honestly? Aja and Krel seemed more competent than these two.

At the very least, Aja and Krel were better at lying. The minute after the cat had called them out on “experimenting unsupervised”, Zoe had started rambling about college apps, which had segwayed into summer homework, which somehow turned into how she and Douxie could make non-exploding potions without Archie’s supervision.

It was a little creepy, just how exasperated the cat looked.

Douxie stared at Toby quizzically before interrupting his friend’s rambling. “Your friend – the possessed one. Is she okay?”

A cold sort of rage crept into Toby’s bones, and with it, came the desire to scream at Douxie for having noticed that Claire wasn’t okay, and not having really done anything. Storm out of the apartment, telling Steve to tell Toby anything important, but refuse to work with the wizards.

But Claire made her decision. There was nothing that Toby could’ve done to change that, much less a guy who went to their rival school.

So instead of yelling, Toby took a breath, and said coldly, “Let’s just say that Claire’s at peace now.”

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

Complexities Unknowable- Chapter Six

Ao3,    1     2     3     4     5    7,  MasterPost

Relationships: Deintruality, background Analogince

This is crazy long. But I like this one. Also, second to last chapter! Also also, i mention spinny hugs three whole times because I miss Hugs. I miss them. 

Warnings: Cursing, food mention, brief angst/arguing, someone digs their nails into their skin but like unintentionally, crying, Remus-typical jokes and comments (he has some pretty violent thoughts directed towards roman), very very brief alcohol mention (wine, cuz Jan’s Like That), uhhh lots and lots of hugging and fluff. And Janus is still called Deceit, for continuity reasons. lmk if I missed something.

Word Count: 3,657

Patton did end up visiting them- albeit several hours later. Deceit wasn’t quite sure how he felt as he watched Morality make himself at home in The Subconscious living room, but he was leaning towards happy. 

Though ‘make himself at home’, was a tad of a stretch, given all his uncomfortable fidgeting. Deceit could taste that there was something he wasn’t saying, but he didn’t have to wait long to see what it was.

“I- um- I brought you guys something-”

Of course he had.

“-as an apology.”

Wait, what?

Remus’ head shot up from where he was sifting through dvds, flashing Deceit a smug grin. Patton didn’t seem to notice as he elaborated.

“You guys have been so nice to me lately, even after I, uh, didn't exactly respect you as much as I should have. I didn’t give you enough credit for what you two contribute, and that was my bad, so here!” He waved his hand and an enormous, neatly folded quilt dropped into his lap. He stood from the couch, struggling to unfurl it.

Deceit’s eyes were saucers. The blanket was a spiral of triangles of lime green, pale yellow, and baby blue fabric. At its edges were small patches of violet, indigo, and red, along with a gray border and a large black circle in the middle of the spiral. Within that circle was the word ‘Family’, embroidered in vibrant rainbow colors.

“It’s okay if you can’t forgive me right away, but I just wanted you to know that you guys are part of my family now, as far as I’m concerned, and I-”

Remus threw himself at Patton with full-force, picking up the much taller side and twirling him around in what looked to be a crushing hug. Deceit remained silent and caught the quilt as it was flung from the two-side tornado. It was soft, smooth, warm. 

“When did you… how did you have the time to make this?”

Morality’s face was flushed and he laughed, bright and airy, as Remus finally let him down. 

“That’s what took me so long to get here! You guys invited me over, and I didn’t want to show up empty-handed. I know I’m not the most artistic, but I think I’m pretty good at sewing.”

He’d spent hours making them a quilt- by hand, when he could just have conjured it- so he could offer them this olive branch. After everything. Deceit was choked up, but he wasn’t sure which emotions in specific were clogging his throat. His voice didn’t sound like his when he spoke.

“I am also sorry!” So it was a little stilted, cut him some slack! It was hard to focus on being well-spoken and not lying at the same time,  “You are- No, you aren’t- solely at fault for our not at all strained relationship.” 

“What?” Patton didn’t seem to comprehend. Remus, who looked disgustingly proud of Deceit, translated for him.

“He’s saying that we’re also sorry for being giant cunts, thanks for the neat blanket, and let’s call it even?” 

The snake nodded in agreement. 

Patton’s eyes grew wide and his smile faded, leaving behind soft surprise. He clearly hadn’t expected any sort of forgiveness, which was both saddening and admirable. He was just a living teddy bear, wasn’t he?

With an exaggerated groan, Deceit placed the quilt to the side and stood, opening his arms. Remus cheered and caught him around the waist with his arm, pulling all three of them together for a tangled group hug. Deceit pretended to hate it, but it was very hard to.

After the two extremely affectionate traits finally got tired of squeezing the life out of him, Deceit extricated himself and determinedly ignored how hot his face had gotten. He curled up on the couch and held the bundled quilt to his chest protectively. Patton and Remus worked together to settle on a movie before joining him. The latter leaned in very close, whispering right against Deceit’s ear. 

“You think we can convince him into a threesome?”

Deceit turned the volume up twenty notches and sat next to Patton for the rest of the movie, out of spite.

It was hardly the last time Patton visited them. Deceit probably should have expected the clinginess from him, popping in daily to tell them about the latest happenings in The Conscious or show them a “““funny””” meme he’d seen on Facebook. Once that door of camaraderie had opened just a crack, the moral trait had enthusiastically torn it off its proverbial hinges. And the oddest thing was how little Deceit minded. 

Patton was, in many ways, like Remus. Energetic, imaginative, affectionate, and containing depths of emotions that you’d never guess he had at first glance. Some days, Morality would run in with bright markers and an even brighter smile to have Remus to teach him new art techniques. Other times, he’d shuffle to Deceit’s door late at night, eyes bloodshot, asking whisper-quiet for a cup of tea and to spend some time together. Those nights in particular stuck with the lying trait, when he would watch Patton’s expression slowly lighten as they chatted together, talking about everything and nothing.

Another bonus of all that had happened Logan, who had now become a friend to the former Dark Sides (Deceit was very thankful to be able to chat with someone else who was Competent). Never had Deceit been so glad that he was wrong about someone!

But, as he’d quietly admitted to both Morality and Logic just a couple nights ago, there was something missing. He hadn’t elaborated, but apparently he hadn’t needed to. Leading them to now.

When Remus and Deceit had been invited for breakfast that morning, they’d of course agreed (you just can’t say no to Patton’s puppy eyes), but they were quickly abandoned with Roman and Virgil by the two bespectacled sides. The blue-hued traits supposedly had a surprise and would be right back, but Deceit could taste the lie. Yet, constrained as he was by the societal expectation to not freak the fuck out when things didn’t go the way he liked, he waited patiently while refusing to make eye-contact with Anxiety.

But then his good-for-nothing despicable traitor of a boyfriend stood up.

“I’ll be right back, I’m going to go stand in the kitchen and wait for things to be less awkward!”

Roman, similarly the worst, jumped to his feet as well.

“And I left the stove on!” 

So now he was just. Staring at his ex-best friend. Which was fine. 

He took a sip of his drink.

“Are you drinking wine at nine in the morning?” Virgil asked suddenly. Deceit looked down at his own drink, then towards the identical wineglass sitting by the other’s plate. 

“Yes? Aren’t you?”

“This is apple juice,” he held the glass up and swirled it, earning a snicker from Deceit. 

“Why are you drinking apple juice from a wine glass?” 

“Why are you drinking wine at nine in the morning?” 

He jerked his thumb in the direction of the kitchen, brow raised in a silent explanation: I’ve got that one, remember? Virgil nodded solemnly, a smile playing at his lips. With that minuscule, vaguely pleasant interaction, they returned to silence.

“Patton sure is taking his sweet time,” Deceit thought it only fair that he be the one to break the quiet this time, just so they were even.

“Something tells me it’s gonna be a lot longer. It’s kinda obvious what he’s doing.”

“Mm. Subtlety is not one of his virtues. It’s a nice gesture, though,” the lack of hostility in the conversation was beginning to irk him. It was almost nice. God, he’d missed it, he hated how he’d missed it.

“Yeah…” Virgil glanced away and shifted in his seat, “Yeah. He’s nice.”

“I agree.”

“Look,” the anxious side set his glass down, “Pat’s my best friend, so I’m doing this for him. I think he’s been kinda lonely lately, and I feel... responsible. Like, he’s not into me or Ro and Lo, and we aren’t either, but it’s- it’s not the same now, the four of us. And it’s pretty obvious that you guys make him happy- he talks about you all the time- so I’m giving you this one chance. Don’t fuck it up, and don’t you dare hurt him.”

Deceit blinked, blindsided. Sincerity got to him, it got under his skin and tore apart his quick wit like it was paper. He had to clear his throat a couple of times before any actual words came to him.

“I won’t repeat my past mistakes. I-” he nearly shuddered, “I promise it.”

Virgil seemed appeased, his expression easing into something more familiar (painfully familiar and new all at once). His lips quirked up in a smug smirk.

“Good. Didn’t wanna have to nudge you down a staircase, anyway.” 

Deceit chuckled. From there, the conversation flowed almost naturally. It wasn’t like old times. Maybe that was a good thing. It wasn’t quite friendly, not yet, but there was an impression. If he played his cards right, if he stayed genuine, then it would be. Soon. And that was enough for now.

Remus scrambled to the top of the fridge and loomed over his brother. He was, for once, not the first to talk. 

“So we wait it out in here until Sherlock and Watson get back from whatever it is that they’re pretending to do-”

“Which is when Snakey and Virgey kiss and make up-”

“Which will be never,” Roman concluded, sitting on the counter. He idly smoothed down his already meticulously styled hair (vain bitch). Remus picked a flea from his own scalp and flicked it at him spitefully, but it went unnoticed. Just like everything he did. 

“I don’t know why they couldn’t have let me in on their little scheme, I shouldn’t have to be between that situation.”

Remus laughed wickedly, a noise with very little mirth and a whole lot of frustration. 

“Mhm, yeah- you’re just a saint, getting along with everybody! You haven’t got a single problem to work out!”

“I didn’t say that,” Roman replied indignantly, “I know that Deceit and I don’t have a great history, but we get along fine now.”

Unbelievable. No- it was completely fucking believable! Remus should just hit him, tear his arms off and beat him with them, pull out the ol’ morning star and smash his brother’s skull in. How stupid he’d been to think that this could be fixed. Roman was impossible. No matter how hard Remus tried, he’d never get anywhere, no matter how supportive Patton was.

“Whoah, you okay?”

The Duke blinked, staring down at the angry, crescent-shaped marks that he’d clawed into his arms unknowingly. He tilted his head to stare at the other Creativity. 

“Not really, no!” 

Roman seemed taken aback. He leaned up and rested his arms on top of the fridge beside Remus.

“Don’t let Patton see you do that, he’ll have a fit,” he joked, reaching up to grab Remus’ hands. The Intrusive trait scrambled away to the other edge of the appliance.

“Don’t tell me what to do, and don’t pretend to care about what I do!” 

“What? What are you-” Roman cut himself off, his face clouding with realization, “Oh.”

“What is it now?” 

“I- I’m supposed to talk to you, aren’t I?” 

Remus stared at him for a long, thoughtful moment. He then erupted into cackles, spitting laughs out like it was the only thing stopping him from breaking down (it was). 

“Oh, whatever. Don’t pretend you don’t hate me just for Patty’s sake.”

Roman hopped off the counter, standing in front of the fridge with arms crossed. He looked angry- but not angry at Remus? That was new. New and weird. 

“You think I hate you?”

“I know you hate me, Roro,” he pulled himself to the edge of his platform, swinging his legs out in front of him. 

“Do you hate me?”

Remus wasn’t quite sure how to answer that one. It was fine, because Roman didn’t wait for a response anyway.

“Get down here.”

“Why should I?” 

“So I can- so we can- Ugh, just get down!”

The Duke got down. Curiosity killed the cat, after all (or the cephalopod, as the case may be). 

Once within his reach, Roman threw his arms open and wrapped Remus up in a fierce hug.

Remus swayed, suddenly very dizzy. Was the world always this blurry? No, no, maybe he was crying? Or maybe he’d gone blind? It didn’t matter either way, all that mattered was that someone was hugging him. Willingly. 

“You’re my brother,” Roman hissed,  “You annoy the hell out of me. And we don’t get along much. And we fight, a lot, but it wasn’t ever anything more than that. I didn’t mean for it to be more than that. You’re my brother-”

“You already mentioned that part-”

“Shush!”

He shushed.

“I don’t hate you. How could I?”

Oh. Well. Hm. That changed things.

Remus’ awareness jolted back into him then. He lifted Roman off the ground with ease and spun around in wide circles, smiling with all of his teeth (which said a lot; he had quite the array of teeth). He held on like his brother would disappear if he let go, conjuring more limbs for the express purpose of holding on tighter.

“Rem!” 

“Yeah, bro?” his voice was giddy, and distinctly wobbly, but that was irrelevant. He spun again.

“I- I’m very glad that we’re having this bonding moment, but I think you broke my ribs.”

“Oh, oops,” Remus let go immediately, dropping Roman to the floor. He offered a shrug in apology.

“Oh yeah, I don’t hate you either, by the way.”

“I assumed so,” Roman wheezed, using the counter to pull himself back to his feet. He gave Remus a lopsided smile.

“It’s good we don’t hate each other. Now I don’t have to knock you out whenever I wanna hang out with Patty.”

“Yeah, that is a relief.”

“Wow, we’re good at this whole reconciliation thing! Let’s go rub it in Vee and Dee’s emotionally constipated faces!” In mere minutes Remus already forgot what being sad felt like. Life was good and he had no problems anymore! 

“We probably should make sure they haven’t killed each other,” Roman held a hand out, which Remus grabbed gleefully.

“Ugh! Why are you always sticky?!”

“Do you really want the answer to that?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not.”

They returned to the dining room, hand-in-hand, only to find their respective boyfriends having a perfectly civil conversation. 

‘Coincidentally’, as soon as Remus and Roman resumed their places at the table, Patton and Logan rose up with an enormous stack of stunningly fluffy pancakes. They shared a secretive smile- as though they genuinely believed that nobody knew what they’d done. Deceit didn’t correct them, but only because he hardly wanted to admit that they’d been successful (maybe it was just him that was bad at making plans; everybody else seemed to have it down). 

Breakfast was short. Deceit could’ve just finished eating a five course meal and he’d still find it hard not to wolf down Patton’s cooking, especially his breakfast food.

And naturally, Deceit offered to help clean up, which had also been a quick task. He’d just dried his hands and flashed Morality a small smirk, turning to leave. He didn’t get far before Remus grabbed his arm and swung them both back into the kitchen. 

“Before we leave, aren’t we forgetting something, DeeDee?” 

Patton set down the last plate and shot them a confused look.

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you mean, dearest,” Deceit claimed, pointedly not looking at either of them. Patton was growing progressively more bemused.

“Did you lose something again, Re?” 

“I haven’t, but Dee seems to have lost his manners.”

The dishonest trait threw his arms up and groaned. If he was only a tad less in love, he’d have decked that look off of Remus’ face.

“Alright! Patton, from the bottom of my heart, thank you!”

“What are we thanking him for?” Remus needled.

“Everything,” he’d intended it to come out biting and sarcastic, and was disgusted to find his voice laced with sincerity, of all things! 

There was most certainly an adoring, proud look on Patton’s face. He was looking away, he did not see it. 

“Oh, you two,” he still heard him though, rambling on, “It was just the least I could do!” 

Remus made a noise. It was loud and completely unintelligible, but with a general air of happiness. And, for what was very much not the first time, Deceit was crushed in an over-enthusiastic threeway hug with no means of escape. He hissed, the noise dying on his lips as soon as he saw the wide and excited grins on both Patton and Remus’ faces that were very, very close. 

Morality really had done something amazing for them- something that Deceit had hoped for for ages. Now the side just looked so happy with himself, with what he’d done, and with them.

Deceit looked between Remus and Patton. 

The human half of his face was burning. 

He looked again, just to be sure. 

Those were definitely the same feelings, huh? Oh fuck. 

“You guys are just too much,” Patton laughed, clearly unaware of Deceit’s impending emotional crisis. His hold around Deceit’s waist had tightened, and with little warning, both him and Remus were no longer on the ground.

The former Dark Sides caught eyes. The red of Remus’ face contrasted dramatically with the green of his apparel. 

Double fuck. 

Patton had clearly mistaken their stunned silence as uncomfortableness, letting them down gently and stepping back.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away.”

“It’s fine!” Was Deceit’s voice always that shrill?

“Yeah, don’t worry about it! But we have to go, right now- important, mysterious things to do! You know us, pure villainy!”

“Yes, that, what he said!”

They sunk out.

It was quiet as they appeared in The Subconscious. Remus looked at his boyfriend. Deceit was staring back, but his mind was very clearly miles elsewhere.

“So. We should maybe talk about that.”

The trait opened his mouth to speak, still looking rather dazed, but Remus interrupted him.

“I swear to God, babe, if you say ‘talk about what?’, or ‘oh, Dear, I have no idea what you mean,’ I am going to rip your esophagus out with my teeth and swallow it.”

Deceit’s mouth snapped shut, then open, then shut. He shuffled over to the couch and proceeded to drop onto it like a ragdoll.

“I think I have feelings for Patton.”

Remus sighed in relief and flopped down next to him, draping his arms across the shell-shocked snake side. 

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

“You’re happy?”

He thought the question over carefully, and an absolutely terrifying possibility occurred to him.

“Yeah- I- we are on the same page, right? Like, he’s super cute and nice and fuckable, but you and I still…?” he let himself trail off. There were very few things that Remus struggled to say, but the thought that two of his favorite people would move on from him- together, no less- was both wildly horrifying and too familiar to verbalize. 

Deceit snapped out of his stupor long enough to glare angrily at Remus- more specifically, glare at the train of thought that he knew Remus was following.

“I’ll always love you, you idiot. Nobody and nothing will change that.”

Remus smiled- not a grin, but a smile- and exhaled slowly. Good, back on track.

“I love you, too. Right, now what do we do?”

“...Do?”

The Duke sat up straight enough to bonk his head against Deceit’s, eliciting a small ‘ow’. 

“Yes, ‘do’; when people have feelings for each other they do something about it- especially when that person is their friend. Unless you were planning on ignoring this, pushing it down, and going back to keeping Patton at arm’s length, which would ruin a perfectly good relationship in an effort to not ruin that relationship. Was that what you wanted to do?” 

“Well when you put it like that... No.”

“Alright, my pretty little liar, what do you want?”

Deceit hid his face in Remus’ neck. His muffled voice said something sounding a lot like ‘I have no fucking clue’.

“I can tell you what I’d like?”

More muffled noises: translation ‘If you say threesome I’m going to end you’.

“No- well, yeah- but I meant that we should woo him!”

Deceit pulled back to squint up at Remus.

“Woo him?”

“This whole conversation, you’re just a broken record- yes, do, yes, woo! We could be a throuple!”

The Duke saw Deceit very nearly say ‘throuple?’, before deciding to actually contribute to the discussion.

“I will admit, that sounds… alright, it sounds lovely. In theory. Do you really think that’s a good idea, though? Why should we risk it- we’ve only just fixed things, why go breaking them again?”

“So if Patton isn’t interested, he’s not going to be friends with us anymore, either? Does that sound like something he’d do?”

“Well- not really- but-”

“Who was right about making friends with him in the first place?”

Deceit glowered, answering begrudgingly.

“You were. But still-”

“Who was right about fixing things with Virgil?”

“... You.”

His gaze remained hesitant, so Remus continued.

“And who’s going to be right about this, when the three of us are all sucking face?”

Deceit dropped his head back against the couch and closed his eyes.

“Why do you keep being helpful? I’m supposed to be the smart one in this relationship.”

“Trust me babe, I hate it too,” Remus sympathized, “D’you want me to go microwave some silverware? You can brag to Logan about single-handedly saving my life from the explosion!”

The dishonest side smirked, leaning forwards once more to peck Remus’ cheek. 

“That’s an awful idea, my love.”

Tags:

@deceits-left-glove​ 

@princemesscharming

@shrimp-crockpot

[breanime]

Unsaid

Requested by @beardburnsupersoldiers:  If you are still taking them I would like to request more Jax Teller x reader fics please!!! Jealous/possessive Jax if possible? You write him so freaking well!!!

*gif not mine*

Your phone was ringing. Cracking one eye open, you glanced over at the digital clock on your nightstand and saw that it was 3 in the morning. And someone was calling you. You rolled over and grabbed your phone with the intention of hitting ignore until you saw who it was.

Jax. Sighing, you answered his call.

“You home?” He asked, not bothering with a greeting.

You blinked in the dark, laying on your back to stare at your ceiling fan. “It’s 3 in the morning, where else would I be?” You asked back.

You heard the sound of a door closing. “I dunno, at your boyfriend’s?”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend.” You said back. You’d been over this with Jax before, in fact, it was something you two argued about more often than not these days. “We’re just friends.”

“Friends who used to fuck,” he huffed out. You heard keys jingling in the back and knew he was getting on his bike.

You watched the fan move in the dark, the moonlight from your window reflecting off of it. You were tired—not just because Jax woke you up in the middle of the night, you were tired of this fight with him. You and Jax were friends, then you were friends-with-benefits, and now you were…compromised. Now there were feelings involved, you found yourself craving his company for more than just his hot body and the amazing sex. You liked being around him, you liked the way he had slowly started to let you into his world, protective of your innocence while at the same time trusting your intelligence and logic. You liked coming to the parties the Club threw and sitting on Jax’s lap with your arms around his neck and your mouth on his, and you really liked being invited to Gemma’s exclusive family dinners. But you didn’t like walking into Jax’s dorm to see some naked blonde in his bed. So you reminded yourself that what you and Jax had was just a matter of convenience and decided to distract yourself from him by hanging out with your old friend. Somehow Jax had found out and he was…not happy. That had been a week ago, and you hadn’t really had a chance to see him or talk to him before this call. The last time you’d spoken, Jax had done most of the talking.

“I bet he can’t make you cum in seconds like I can,” Jax had snarled. He’d met you in front of a diner the two of you liked to go to, storming in like a tornado. You could see Chibs, Juice, and Opie on their bikes outside. You were sitting by the window finishing your lunch when Jax had stomped in. He hadn’t even sat down, just stood over you with a frown on his face. “Bet he doesn’t know how to lick you the way you like.”

“He might,” you’d said back, knowing good and damn well he didn’t, “He’s had more practice at it with me than you.”

Jax sneered, putting both hands on the table and glaring down at you, his blonde strands falling onto his forehead. “I doubt that. Think about how often I’ve fucked you, sweetheart. Two, three times a day. Do the math, darlin’.” He straightened up, jaw set. “You been fucking him while you’ve been with me?” He asked.

You put your sandwich down. “We’re not together,” had been your simple answer.

“The fuck does that mean—” Jax had shaken his head, too pissed to even finish his sentence. “Look, I’m not sharing—”

“—Oh, but I’m supposed to?!”

He ran a hand through his hair, letting out an annoyed breath. “I told you, that shit meant nothin’, okay? I was drunk and shit was going down with the club—”

“—shit’s always going down with the club,” you’d said drily.

“So you open your legs for some suburban asshole that probably doesn’t even know how to fuck you right?” He’d asked. He didn’t let you answer. “If shit with the club’s been botherin’ you, you should have told me. In fact—if the shit with that chick bothered you, you should have said something. There’s no fucking reason for you to be with any other man,” he went on, “And if I see that asshole in the streets—”

“—Jax—”

“—I swear on my father; I’m putting his ass on the ground or in it.” He pointed over at you. “Be at the clubhouse at 9 tonight,” he’d ordered, “We gotta talk.” With that, he’d stormed out just as quickly and loudly as he’d stormed in. And you, like an idiot, obeyed him. But he hadn’t come back from whatever the hell he was out doing until late, so you went up to his dorm and fell asleep. You remembered him coming in and kissing your forehead before climbing into bed with you, holding you for the rest of the night. He had to leave before you woke up, but you knew he’d stayed all night because you always slept better when you slept with Jax. You woke up feeling refreshed, and he’d left you a note saying “Sorry darlin, I’ll make it up to you”.

Which apparently translated to him calling you, still angry, at the ass crack of dawn.

“You alone?” Jax asked after you hadn’t responded to his last comment.

“Mm hmm,” you closed your eyes, “I’m in bed, too. All by my lonesome.” You smiled when you heard Jax take in a breath. “Was having good dreams, though.”

“Better be about me,” you could hear the smirk in his voice, “Stay in bed, baby, I’m on my way.”

Not more than 30 minutes later, you heard the unmistakable sound of Jax’s bike pulling up in your driveway. You waited for him in the entryway, only wearing a big T-shirt and panties. He gave you that famous Teller smirk when he saw you, and you wanted to rip his clothes off, starting with his kutte. He didn’t say anything when he walked in, just put a hand on the base of your throat and pushed you against the wall. You bit your lip. Jax knew just how to get you going.

“Do I need to check under your bed and in your closet for boys?” He asked, voice deep and low. He put his other hand on his waist, pulling his shirt up to reveal the gun on his belt. “I got just the thing for ‘em.”

You put your hands on his waist, right above the gun and under his shirt, feeling his warm skin under your hands. “Why even bother asking,” you said back, “seems like you already been having eyes on me.”

“Mm,” Jax shook his head, leaning in so he could look right into your eyes, “What? You think I had some of my guys follow you? That’s not the case, darlin’.”

You stood on your tiptoes, rubbing your nose with Jax’s before stepping back down. “Then how’d you know I’ve been seeing—”

“Uh-uh,” Jax’s hand tightened on your throat—just a tad, not enough to hurt you, of course, just enough to make you feel a little pressure, “Don’t say his fucking name. I don’t ever want to hear you say his name,” he leaned in so his mouth was only inches from yours, “I just want you to say my name… Only mine.”

You closed your eyes, feeling your heart beating faster. “Jax,” you said slowly, “How did you know about him?”

“Came over to see you,” Jax’s lips ghosted over yours as he spoke, “But you weren’t home. Ended up cruisin’ for a while, clear my head, and I saw your car…”

“At his place?” You guessed, leaning your head back as his thumb covered your pulse point.

Jax nodded, blonde hair hitting your face from his closeness. “Yeah,” he answered, “at his place. Sat out there for a while trying to figure out what you were doing there.” He moved your head back gently, his blue eyes glaring into yours. “Took me a while to realize you were lettin’ him fuck you.”

You licked your lips, watching as Jax’s eyes followed the action. “I wouldn’t call it fucking,” you said lowly, “I didn’t even cum.”

Jax looked up at you, a mix of emotions swirling in his pretty eyes. “He ever make you cum before?”

You shook your head. “Never.”

Jax smirked, shaking his head. “I don’t get it. Why’d you go back to him if he can’t even hit it right?” His smirk fell, and his eyes turned serious. “Why’d you go back to him when you have me?”

Hm… You could see the earnestness behind his eyes, and you decided to match it. “Because,” you answered honestly, “I don’t have you.” You shrugged, pushing away from Jax and walking over to the couch, leaning against the back of it. “I just… I get lonely sometimes.”

Jax sighed, putting his head down. He looked back up at you with a frown on his handsome face. You stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, reading each other quietly. He was working himself up to saying something, you could tell. Finally, he spoke. “That’s my fault,” he admitted, nodding to himself, “I’ve been tryin’ to have my cake and eat it too, and it hasn’t been fair to you.” He sighed. “Can we sit?”

You sat on the couch with Jax. He had his hands in his lap, and he was bouncing his leg the way he did when he was nervous. You reached over and took his hand, making his still himself. “Ready when you are.”

Jax looked over at you, eyes searching your face. “I should have set things straight with you from the beginning,” he said, “I never meant—never wanted this to be just sex. You mean more to me than that.” He shook his head. “The girl at the clubhouse… that was a mistake.” He looked you in the eyes, a sure sign he was telling the truth. “It won’t happen again.”

“That really hurt me, Jax,” you said, finally letting your emotions come out to the surface, “I thought… I mean, I shouldn’t have assumed…”

“No,” he turned, hand still in yours, “This is on me. I should have manned up and told you how I feel, should have set boundaries and stuck to ‘em. I want to be the only man in your life,” he said, “and I want you to be the only woman in mine. I’m sorry, Y/N,” he looked down at your hands, “I want to make it up to you, want to make things right with you.”

You nodded. “I want that, too.” You looked up at him. “I’m not…. I won’t see him again,” you said, “I didn’t even want to see him in the first place, if I’m being honest…”

Jax nodded, taking his hand out of yours and putting it on the back of your neck. “I promise, you won’t ever have to again.” He pulled you towards him, his lips finally pressing against yours—soft yet firm, a promise. His lips were still on yours when he spoke next, his voice deep and eyes still closed. “You’re mine.”

You nodded against him. “I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours,” he smiled, kissing you again, “No more words left unsaid between us,” he said, moving his lips to your forehead, “I’m telling you; right here and right now, that you mean everything to me, and I’m gonna treat you right from now on.” He sighed. “I should have been doing that before, but…I’m sorry.”

You ran a hand through his hair, smiling against his lips. “I know, baby,” you said soothingly, “It’s okay.”

Jax pulled you into his lap, kissing you as his hands went up and down your back and ass. You groaned into his mouth, grinding onto him as you kissed him back happily. He chuckled. “Better than that asshole?” He asked.

“Much,” you answered.

“Hm,” his hand found its way under your shirt, “Tell me about it.”

“Well,” you said twirling a lock of his hair between your fingers, “The whole time I was thinking about you,” you smiled, “and how you know how to fuck me better than anyone else, and how you would have made me cum in less than five seconds,” you went on, “And how no one is as good as the Prince.”

Jax laughed. “Okay, okay,” he said, standing up with you wrapped around him, “That’s all I need to hear.” He kissed you again—hard and rough and exactly how you liked. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart, let me remind you what you’ve been missing,” he laughed against your lips, “what we’ve both been missing.”

“Nothing left unsaid, right?” You giggled as he carried you to your room.

“The only thing you’re gonna be sayin’ for the next few hours, darlin’,” he promised, “Is gonna be my name.”

You grinned. “Jax,” you said as he threw you on the bed, “Jax,” as he stripped his clothes off, “Jax,” as he nearly ripped off yours, “Jax!”

He had fulfilled his promise—and then some—the only thing you said was his name, “yes”, and “please” over and over again.

You woke up in his arms, and you traced his tattoos with your hands…and then your tongue when he still didn’t get up. That got his attention. Neither of you said much as he kissed you, licking into your mouth while his body pressed against yours—but you didn’t have to. You’d agreed on not leaving things unsaid, but it was okay if your bodies were doing the talking for you. And his body was saying that you belonged to him—no questions asked, no room for argument…

…and your body agreed. So afterwards, when you laid in bed with his arms around you, satisfied and happy and well-spent, and your phone rang, you didn’t hesitate to hand it over to Jax.

He grinned as he spoke into the receiver. “Yeah, hey, Y/N won’t be needing your services anymore—not that she had much use for ‘em in the first place,” he said, making you giggle, “So you need to lose her number before you lose your head. Kay—have a nice day, bye!”

He threw your phone across the room—tossing it perfectly onto the pile of clothes from the other night—and gathered you in his arms.

You spent the rest of the day in bed, saying everything you needed to say to Jax with and without words, leaving nothing unsaid.

It was bliss.

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

I’m thinking this could be a three parter: one for jealousy (this one), one for possessiveness (next one), and one last one to wrap it all up. If you’re interested, please let me know and I’ll post it as soon as I can. Thanks for reading! Please comment if you can!

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[ebachan]

Sonic Movie - FAN sequel

I had this idea for a sequel before this rumor appeared. It sure has its flaws, but I'll try to provide a full-movie story in enough detail to have a picture of what the story-line could be about.

I’m sorry for any mistakes, as this is just a quick draft and idea :-) Tell me what do you think about this :-) Does this sound like a good “draft“ plot?

Tags: @movie-robotnik-positivity​ @movie-sonic-positivity​ @aawesomepenguin​ @welcome-to-green-hills​ (sorry for the tags, but you are like the biggest Sonic movie fans I know out there :-D )

If you like this, please reblog ;-) And sorry, it’s reaaaaly long ^_^;

I’m using the pictures from the first Trailer to not have this as a block of text ;-)

Sonic games: Sonic 2 + Sonic CD

Returning cast: Dr. Robotnik, Annie, Tom, Sonic New cast: Tails, Amy, Metal Sonic Place: Sonic's world (mostly)

Plot: Sonic is in his world after about half of the year after Dr. Robotnik's defeat who went missing. Now, Sonic has more friends - Tails and Amy - and finds a way back to Earth. There, he invites Tom and Annie (I wasn't counting with Jojo here as she wasn't introduced at the time I had this idea) to his world for a picnic or party.

(Also, no Agent Stone - as I can't find a place in this story for him ^_^;)

Tom and Sonic chat with Tails while Annie and Amy are together, and Amy naturally asks how to win Sonic's heart. Annie is amused by this idea and is happy to provide tips and stories on how she had met Tom.

As the party goes on, Dr. Robotnik appears in Eggmobile-like craft and captures the girls. Sonic is surprised but also excited, as he can take on Dr. Robotnik once more. Tom isn't for obvious reasons. Dr. Robotnik gloats as usual, and Sonic gives him his nickname Eggman or talks about his new mustache-cut to Robotnik's annoyance and nicknaming Sonic pin cushion or needle mouse or rodent (to name a few easter eggs).

When Sonic attacks Eggman, he is deflected by equally fast blue bur which turns out into Metal Sonic. With a new threat and enemy, Sonic is unable to keep up with somebody with equal speed and fast reflexes. Sonic ends up hurt, and Robotnik takes both girls away (they are squirming, and Annie is trying to escape with Amy being more of damsel-in-distress for the time being).

Tom helps Sonic and finds out Tails was hiding in a bush. The kid is scared-cat after all at this point. Sonic wants to go after them, but Tom stops him, insisting he will go too. They only need to figure out how to tail them.

At this moment Tails mentions Tornado, his makeshift plane he was developing. They head to his house, and Sonic is hyper over the plane. together they set forward.

New place: A Robotnik's hideout resembling Chemical Plant zone

Meanwhile, Eggman/Robotnik imprisons the girls and gloats about his plan and Metal Sonic. Metal is in this movie "mute" and follows the order to the last bite (that can perhaps turn to a bit of comedic moment). Annie tries to get more info from Robotnik with moderate success, as he loves to gloat.

Robotnik explains, he had discovered great energy sources in this world and is using them to power his new robot army (I imagine the wide-smiling orange robots from Sonic Colors or Heroes for example) with some resembling Badniks. His ultimate goal is to conquer this world, then move to Earth and then the whole universe.

New place: Tail's house

There, Tails shows them his plane, and together they embark on finding Amy and Annie. Sonic stands on the plane as seen in Games. Tails uses his yellow-console to find some traces left by Metal Sonic, and they follow the robot to different zones (inspiration from CD perhaps). When flying above one, they are attacked by the new robots.

Sonic rushes to beat them, realizing inside are animals, and so he has to change his approach. At the same time, Tails in the air loses control over his plane, as he is hit and goes for an ugly crash landing. Sonic can't save them, and when the plane explodes, Sonic is devastated that he had lost his friends. But a few seconds later he hears Tom and Tails from above, and to his surprise, he sees Tails flying.

Tails then explains, he was always bullied for his two tails and was shy to tell Sonic, the first person to be nice to him, that he can fly as not to be seen as a freak. But for Sonic, this ability is way past cool, and Tom can only agree. The travel further, finding a signal coming from an old temple (Sonic 4 perhaps).

Here, Toms helps them to navigate as he had seen many Indiana Jones movies and knows how to these places works... by setting one or two traps along the way. But in the end, they encounter some robots, free the animals, and make their way toward the center. Inside is Metal, collecting data for Dr. Robotnik (we can see statues resembling Echidnas and the mosaic showing Chaos - as a tease for the next movie).

Sonic engages in the battle, frustrated he had lost the first time. He takes this fight more seriously, and it can be seen on him not having any smart-jokes or puns.

Back to Dr. Robotnik

Annie tries to figure out how to escape, but Amy is more in the corner, questioning her attempt. Annie has no intention to wait for boys to save her, as she is no princess from the tower. Dr. Robotnik is getting ready in unleashing his robotic army with a nice countdown of a few hours.

I'm not sure how would they escape in this point (outsmarting a robot-guard, perhaps Agent Stone - But I haven't had any role for him in here), but after they escape their prison, Annie and Amy are attacked by robots. Annie tells Amy to run away, while she beats the robots with a pipe without much of an effect. Amy stays, watching, and her fists curl.

When it seems Annie is getting seriously hurt, Amy jumps in the actions and with Piko hammer defeats all of them. Annie asks, why Amy didn't use her hammer before. Amy confesses she was made fun by other girls for being a tomboy and not enough lady-like, so she swore to herself she would never use her Piko hammer again.

Annie, says, "I'm sure Sonic would prefer a girl that can keep up with him by his side." This one sentence opens Amy's eyes and pushes her on the way to be herself. Armed and with more hope, they embark on the robot-crushing quest.

Dr. Robotnik isn't happy, but he still does nothing to stop them as everything still goes according to the plan. And he is having his latte time.

Meanwhile Sonic in the temple is losing to Metal, as he lets his frustration control him. Tails and Tom meanwhile figure out how to use the traps to their advantage, messing with Metal Sonic's attack patterns. In the end, Metal buries Sonic under rubble and escapes with all the data he had needed, sure Sonic is dead this time. Metal still needed to record a few places at this point.

However, that isn't the truth. Sonic is bruised, but much alive. During the evening, they patch themselves, and Sonic keeps to himself. Tom goes to him and asks what is troubling him. Sonic isn't happy to say a word, but do it after a bit. Sonic is losing confidence in his speed and is unsure what to do. Tom encourages him to do what he does always - don't give up, keep moving.

Here can resonate words from LongClaw (Sonic's Owl guardian/parental figure) which renews Sonic's passion and will. Right now, they have to hurry, as Tails picked up many signals from Chemical Plant Zone where Eggman resides.

Back to Eggman

As Amy and Annie are getting out, Metal Sonic appears but ignores them as he calculated they are no thread. His orders also didn't include keeping them in prison. With the data, Eggman/Robotnik now can start his Master Plan with the robots being just a distraction to his real plan.

Sonic uses his rings to transport them to zone (as Tails could give him accurate coordinate). There he goes after the robots with Tails and Tom right behind. However, the duo soon finds a suitable weapon - a big mecha-suit (Advanced style) Tails drives and Tom shoots from the lasers. Together, they soon beat the outside army.

While inside, Tails and Tom remain behind to stall the next robot wave, while Sonic goes to find Amy and Annie. We stay with Tails who is showing panic in his face as his brain is telling him in what danger he is. Their mecha-suit gets damaged, and they fell out with robots closing in.

Tom encourages Tails to not give up, to go for what he believes in. Tails' memories flash in the fox's mind, being reminded he was always a big coward and bookworm with little physical endurance. The fox runs away, hiding behind heaps of trash while Tom tries to fight off the robots.

Tails is shivering and flashes of his encounter with Sonic reminds him how happy he was to get the first friend. And they actually explored quite a bit before Tom and Annie arrived. With the crisis getting out of hand, Tails see a computer panel behind himself and hacks it, sending the robots shut-down-command, freeing the animals.

With this, he saves Tom and saves Sonic the trouble of busting the robots to free the animals. Dr. Robotnik notices this and sends Metal to deal with Sonic. Metal is now more aggressive and attacks more often. His calculation told him twice Sonic was dead, yet he stood in front of him. For pure 0-1 logic-brain that was unacceptable, and it had to be fixed - permanently.

While Sonic and Metal fights, Tom and Tails find Annie and Amy. Together they operate an aircraft (it would be cool if it was a blimp-like one) to follow Dr. Robotnik. Sonic boards too, kicking Metal with a big spin-dash leaving the robot crackling.

They catch up to Dr. Robonik above a big lake where appears Little Planet - a place with Time Stones. Dr. Robotnik's ultimate plan is to conquer the Time-and-Space including capturing Baby Sonic to power his machines and rewriting the history to his liking.

The gang faces flying drones, getting closer to Dr. Robotnik who landed on the Little Planet. When they catch up, Dr. Robotnik is about to take the first Time Stone and Metal returns for the last showdown. Sonic can't fight Metal and go after Dr. Robotnik at once, but with a quick-thinking and team-work, they damage Metal.

Time stones are placed on small pedestals around the planet in a special array, that allows it to "travel" outside of the time for a whole year before it appears for a few hours. Now, the gang has only about an hour to leave the planet or stay there trapped (the place has a different time-flow as well and nobody knows how it works - so one year outside can be 50 on the planet).

Dr. Robotnik possesses three stones now and is powering his main machine (Eggmobile-like) with it. The laser blasts now "evaporate" in the air to appear somewhere else a bit later or even before they were shot. Amy, navigates Sonic, as she has a sharp intuition (game inspiration) and so, Sonic avoids many hits.

The rest of the group tries to figure out how to get those stones off the Eggmobile and hinder Dr. Robotnik in going for the next stone. With Dr. Robotnik abusing the power of Stone, the Little Planet exhibits places morphing to its past or possible future self, with ice and lava spurting out of green land. The landscape turns into chaos, and Metal faces his ultimate defeat (Perhaps OAV styled, but that would be sooo sad!).

With the main robot gone, Sonic hits the Eggmobile and gets the stones out. Dr. Robotnik falls into one of the time portals, disappearing. The Little Planet is collapsing and returning back to its own flow of time. To prevent the worst, Sonic heads to place the Time Stones back to their place, hoping to restore the balance.

While the rest waits outside of the Little Planet that is fading away, Sonic is there placing the stones. He sees the rest of Metal's head (alternate ending a bit later), and he heads outside just in the nick of the time. The Little Planet is gone for another year.

With Dr. Robotnik again defeated, they return to their picnic, and Amy shows off her hammer and is more accepted by Sonic. Tails had found courage inside of him and promise to not let fear control him.  

After credits, Dr. Robotnik travels through the time witnessing the destruction of the Angel Island by the hand of Chaos and hears the prophecy. He puts one and one together and with the pictures from Metal, he formulates his new plan, while still floating in the stream of time.

Alternate ending: Sonic takes Metal's head with him and Tails turns Metal into a small hedgehog robot similar to Bits in shape and behavior from Sonic Universe - Silver Age.

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

This was so loooong. Sorry about that. I don't think this works well for the movie format, and there may be a problem with pacing as I think there is a little space for character development, but I always thought the next movie could be based on Sonic 2 and CD, saving Knuckles for the next one (Sonic 3 & Knuckles + Adventure 1). Yes, there are some logical problems as well, but I think most of it works well :-)

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Place To Call Home: Uncle Jared

Summary: After a storm sets off the security alarm, the reader spends the night at Uncle Jared’s...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader (with Jared)

Word Count: 4,400ish

Warnings: language, angst

A/N: Takes place ~1 year after the end of A Place To Call Home

“Hey, dad,” you said, swallowing when you picked up the phone.

“The alarm just went off. The security company said they talked to you on the phone and-”

“I know. The cops literally just left. It’s okay, nobody's here,” you said, pacing around the front door.

“Why’d it go off,” he said, a hardness in his voice.

“I think the wind caught the back door downstairs. We have a tornado warning after all. It was really just the wind. The cops checked everything,” you said. He was quiet on the other end, probably pursing his lips together. “I’m sorry I forgot to lock the door. I went swimming earlier today and-”

“It’s okay, baby. Nothing bad happened which is all that matters,” he said softly. “I want you to stay over Uncle Jared’s house tonight for me though.”

“Dad, it’s already like ten and-”

“I was not asking, Y/N,” he said.

“I could-”

“TJ is on that backpack trip in Europe so he’s not home and unless you want to drive to your grandparents or your Aunt and Uncle’s across town, you are going to Uncle Jared’s,” he said.

“Dad, it was just the wind,” you said. “I’m not a kid.”

“And please for me and your mom, please drop the tough act. I can see you rubbing your arm through the security camera, alright?” he said. You dropped your hand and glanced over to the camera by the front door, giving it a nod. “Do you want Uncle Jared to come get you or can you drive over on your own?”

“Seriously,” you deadpanned, putting a hand on your hip.

“Alright, alright,” he said with a tiny laugh. “You better be over there in ten minutes though. Promise.”

“Hey, kiddo,” said Jared when you knocked on the front door. You smiled and stepped inside.

“Sorry about my dad,” you said. “You know how he is.”

“Eh, he wasn’t thrilled about leaving you home alone with a tornado warning out in the first place. The alarm thing just sent him over the edge,” said Jared. “So...why aren’t you over your mom’s parents with the rest of the gang?”

“Do you want to be in a car with three kids 7 and under for five hours?” you asked.

“I see your point,” he said with a laugh. “That’s my everyday after all.”

“Speaking of which, where’s Gen? She already in bed?” you asked.

“She and the kiddos are out of town. My niece's birthday party,” he said.

“You didn’t want to go?” you asked. He shrugged, heading inside and over to the family room, waving you to follow. “Jared.”

“I needed some quiet time,” he said, giving you a look. “Like someone else I know.”

“It’s creepy how good you pick up on that,” you said, taking a seat next to him.

“There’s nothing wrong with needing a bit of alone time,” he said. “You been doing good? Been awhile since we had a little talk.”

“Been a while since I needed a talk,” you said. He smiled, giving your forehead a kiss. “You’re as big of a loser as my dad, you know that, right?”

“I got it from him,” said Jared, kicking his feet up on the couch. “Why don’t you grab us a snack and we’ll stick on a movie?”

“Sure you don’t want your alone time?” you asked.

“You know it’s different with you,” he said.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding your head.

“Y/N,” he frowned.

“You guys got ice cream?” you asked. He hummed and you made your way into the kitchen, grabbing two pints and a pair of spoons, handing one to him before plopping back on the couch.

“Alright tough guy,” he said, throwing his legs over your lap to keep you there. “What’s eatin’ at you?”

“Nothing. Stop being…” you said, looking around for the remote, spotting on the other end near him. “Can I have the remote?”

“Can you stop lying?” he said with a smile. “Something’s up. I know that face.”

“Jared,” you sighed.

“Classes? Your boyfriend? Your dad? Shoot,” he said.

“You’re annoying,” you said.

“Oh. Insult. Yes, clearly nothing wrong,” he said.

“Let me up. Now,” you snapped. He tucked in his feet fast as you stood. You tossed the ice cream back in the freezer and left the spoon out somewhere, already halfway to the front door when his hand caught your arm.

“Hey, come on now. Wind’s picking up out there and you promised your parents,” he said.

“Well where were they when the alarm goes off and I’m stuck in that big house by myself huh?” you said. He blinked before he pulled you into a hug. “I’m fine. Forget about it.”

“It’s alright that you got scared,” he said.

“I’m not scared. I’m going home,” you said.

“Alright but I’m going with,” he said.

“Could you back off? I’m not your kid, I’m not your niece, I’m not your friend. I don’t need a babysitter,” you said.

Normally your mom or dad would have called you out, knew that when you said those things, you were actually pretty freaking scared. You were looking for reassurance according to the doctor and the three of you had worked out a good system of knowing when it was happening. It didn’t happen all that often now and that was a sign of growth or something.

But Jared, he didn’t know that. Those were very personal conversations and it took a long time to even be willing to admit it out loud that that’s where it all stemmed from. You weren’t surprised when his face fell because he didn’t know.

“Jared,” you said, watching him hold up his hands.

“Do whatever you want but don’t leave the house,” he said, turning away and heading upstairs.

“Jare-“

“Goodnight,” he said. You sighed as he took off, a door slamming upstairs making you jump. You went and picked up the ice cream he left out, tidying up quickly before you went up to the guest room and sat down on the bed.

You could call your dad, ask him how to apologize properly. He knew Jared’s head better than most anyone.

But you already felt enough like a kid that wanted her parents to come home.

“You’re not a child,” you grumbled. You changed into your pajamas and decided you’d go make him something. Your mom liked it that time you made sundaes and sat up and talked about guys after all.

You were halfway skipping down the stairs when the lights shut off and the house went pitch black.

“Shit!” you shouted, your foot nowhere near the step and you went forward, more than a few feet forward, before you went down hard, hissing and grabbing your knee.

You groaned as you scooted down to the floor on your butt, your hands starting to hurt too.

“Ow,” you whined, getting a flashlight in your face after a moment. You winced and shut your eyes, feet pounding down the steps.

“Okay, kiddo. Let’s take a look,” he said, moving your hand away from your knee, carefully moving his flashlight over you. “Looks like bumps and bruises aside from that skinned knee.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, getting up to your feet, leaning back against the wall.

“For having shitty luck?” he joked. “Come on. Skinned knees I’m at pro at fixing up.”

“I’m alright,” you said, taking a step forward slowly, giving him a thumbs up.

“Come on,” he said, scooping you up like you were nothing and setting you down on the kitchen counter. “Hold the flashlight for me?”

You did as asked, pointing the way for him as he went to a cupboard and pulled out a lantern. He flicked it on and the room got brighter, Jared shuffling around until he was dabbing at you knee with a cotton ball.

“Ow!” you said.

“Alright, you’re all done,” he said, tossing the ball away. “Think you can manage the trek upstairs without one of us ending up in the hospital?”

“Yes,” you scoffed, hoping down to your feet. You squeezed your eyes shut but slowly shuffled to the stairs and up them, Jared behind you, setting the lantern down in the guest room when you got up there.

“Night,” he said, already heading down the hall for his room.

“Wait,” you said, hopping around the doorframe. “Come on, we got to talk.”

“About?” he asked.

“What I said. Let me apologize,” you said.

“It’s fine, Y/N. Go to-“

“No, it’s not. We both know better than to sit and stew in our own heads,” you said.

“Alright,” he said. You followed him into his room, finding the dog passed out on bed. “Don’t tell on me to Gen.”

“I saw nothing,” you said. He smiled and laid back on the bed, chuckling as you took a seat the end.

“I should be telling you it gets better or something, shouldn’t I,” he said. “Your head I mean.”

“Jared,” you said, watching him prop himself up on his elbows. “It does. I remember what my life was like before I got here. It fucking sucked. It’s better. And a bad day isn’t a bad life.”

“Whoa. Hittin’ me with my own advice. Sound like your old man,” he said.

“Well he is quite decrepit,” you said, Jared snorting. “I called him crypt keeper once.”

“Seriously? I wish I could have seen his face,” he said. “Did he get all grumpy?”

“What do you think? Grandma says he was born with a look of sass on his face,” you said.

“I bet,” said Jared, smiling for a moment. “He was so nervous the first day of filming, after that first month. He kept looking at his phone every two seconds, wanted to be there in case you called.”

“Dad’s a worrier. He doesn’t show it a lot but he is,” you said.

“Eh, comes with the territory of kids,” he said.

“Yeah...um, about what I said before...I’m sorry,” you said. “I was acting out.”

“Acting out?” asked Jared.

“Yeah. That’s what the therapist called it,” you said. He sat upright and cocked his head. “I know you know I go.”

“I knew you went,” he said. “You still…”

“Not all the time. It’s like every other week now. My parents don’t really come anymore,” you said.

“Do you like going?” he asked. You shrugged, Jared rolling over on the bed and digging around the nightstand drawer, pulling out a card and tossing it at you.

“What’s this?” you asked, trying to read it in the dark.

“My guy. Sounds like you might have outgrown your current one. Makes sense. That guy probably specializes in kids and you really aren’t one anymore,” he said.

“He really is good though,” you said.

“I’m sure he is. I don’t think you’re acting out at all though, kids tend to do that. I knew exactly what you were doing because guess what, I do it too,” he said.

“What was I doing then?” you asked.

“The ole push and pull. You push to see if the other one is going to pull you back in,” he said. “Not acting out. Bad habit to get into though. Don’t want to use that one too often. S’why I pretended to be mad.”

“Excuse me?” you said.

“Sure, mom and dad you can expect to get reassurance from but other people? You might just push some people away,” he said.

“I barely have anyone in the first place, Jared,” you said. “That’s…”

“Well that’s not true but it’s beside the point. What-“

“You’re a dick,” you said, getting up from the bed.

“Why am I a dick?” he shot back.

“Cause maybe I made the mistake of feeling comfortable enough with you to act that way or talk to you about this shit when I trust barely anyone with it. God knows why. Should have kept my mouth shut,” you said, leaving the card behind and slamming the guest room door shut.

You woke up tired. The house was quiet, the wind down now, as you got dressed and packed up your bag. Halfway downstairs you spotted Jared sipping on a cup of coffee at the counter. You gave the dog a pat as you stepped down, not glancing back when you slipped on your shoes.

“I’m not your dad. I don’t always know the right thing to say,” he said. “I screw up more often than not. I overstepped and I’m sorry.”

“You were honest. Sometimes they sugar coat things. I understand I push people away,” you said, looking back at him. “Sometimes I push because the less people I let in-”

“The less there are to hurt you,” he said. You nodded and turned around, Jared turning, another cup of coffee next to him. “I’m not gonna hurt you, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry for overreacting. It just felt like you were trying to tell me what works for me was wrong,” you said.

“I’m sorry. I thought I was picking up on something but I was the one that was wrong,” he said.

“I mean...the doctor said...he did sort of mention last time I should look into an adult doctor. He said my focus area is shifting from family to personal. It was a good thing apparently,” you said.

“Sounds like you’re not so scared of the family thing anymore,” he said with a smile. You shrugged and walked into the kitchen, sitting down beside him and kicking off your shoes. “Are you?”

“No,” you said softly. “It’s almost silly to me that I was ever scared in the first place.”

“Can I be honest?” he asked. You nodded, getting a shy smile from him. “I want to be like you when I grow up.”

“What?” you asked.

“You just don’t give up. Ever. I wish I was that strong. So I look up to you, shortie,” he said. You bit your bottom lip and looked away, trying to distract yourself with the coffee. “What? Too real?”

“I did give up. I gave up and my dad just wouldn’t take no for an answer,” you said. “He’s the strong one, not me.”

“Agree to disagree,” he said. “If you had given up, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to learn some stuff from you and you would be who knows where.”

“...Maybe I’ll take like a little bit of credit but that’s it,” you said.

“That’s the Y/N I know,” he said, offering you a smile. “So you got any big plans this weekend? Throw a massive party?”

“No. Probably hang out at home. Go swimming or something,” you said.

“Want to take your parent’s jet skis out?” he asked with a smirk.

“I’m not supposed to take them out by myself,” you said.

“Who said you’d be by yourself?”

The Next Day

“Well what do we have here?” you heard from the dock, your dad crossing his arms as you pulled up to a stop on your jet ski. “Well you’re wearing a life jacket at least.”

“I-“ you said, Jared speeding past in the background, your dad rolling his eyes. “I’m not alone, see?”

“Like having a toddler watch an infant,” he said, smiling after a moment. “So you have fun hanging out with the moose this weekend?”

“Yeah. He’s way more fun than you,” you said.

“That’s my jet ski you’re on,” he said.

“Still more fun,” you said with a smile.

“I’ll tell your mother you’re dying for something with kale in it for dinner. Kale or maybe some liver again,” he said.

“I’ll tell mom about the garage incident,” you said.

“....carry on,” he said. You laughed and started to drive off, a whistle stopping you. “Hamburgers and hotdogs?”

“Yes please,” you said.

“A little while longer then you two head on up for some dinner.”

“Arrow!” you said, frowning when she stole your brownie off your paper plate. “That’s not nice.”

“Okay,” she said with a giggle, putting it back. You gave her a side eye when you turned back to your plate, noticing your chocolate chip cookie was gone.

“Zeppelin!” you said, your cookie already halfway in his mouth. You turned back and saw the brownie gone again, Arrow trying to eat the evidence away. “Oh my...freaking twins.”

“Daddy said to do it,” she said. You raised an eyebrow and looked down the table, watching him pop the last brownie in his mouth.

“Daddy said maybe she’d share, not to steal it,” he said with a mouthful.

“Uh huh,” you said. Jared nudged you from his seat, lifting up the napkin on his lap to show a horde of desserts. “You’re awesome.”

After getting your dessert, you helped cleaned up, tired from being out on the water all day. You decided on a quick shower to clean off, exiting to hear a big laugh from the kitchen.

“She’s fast on that thing. Of course you lost,” you heard your dad say. You stuck around the corner of the hall, the room quiet for a moment. “Told you that fake out would piss her off.”

“I told you, she needed a little dose of reality. Not everybody be in the world will be as kind as mom and dad,” he said.

“She knows that, Jared. She knows it better than anyone,” he said. “Still, did you really have to fake that whole being mad thing?”

“Took a play out of your book was all,” he said. “Worked with me too. Helped not be so nervous.”

“I did that years ago,” he said.

“And look at the impression you made,” said Jared. “Her head works more like mine than yours sometimes, Ackles. You know what? She was more open and honest with me this weekend than I’ve ever seen her. Cut away the bullshit formality, right?”

“Yeah, I get your point. Just don’t actually piss her off cause then I gotta kick your ass,” he said.

“Like she’d even let you. She’d call dibs,” said Jared.

“Very true,” he said. “She impart any other wisdom on you? She get freaked by the alarm?”

“Eh, a bit. Why else do you think I pissed her off? Distracted her pretty good,” he said.

“Well any of the other kids ever have that happen, send ‘em over and I’ll return the favor,” said your dad. “So...she keep an eye on you too? Gen told me you wanted some ‘me’ time this weekend.”

“Surprisingly, I still feel like I got it. She’s good at the subtle stuff,” said Jared.

“Picking up on subtle clues was important to her for awhile,” he said, quiet for a few seconds. “Sorry. S’not my place to talk about that stuff for her.”

“She told me a few things this weekend, stuff I didn’t know before,” said Jared.

“Scary isn’t it?” said your dad.

“Yeah,” said Jared quietly. “She’s normal though.”

“You’re normal too you giant freak of nature,” he said.

“Shut up, shortie,” said Jared.

“Who’s short?” you asked, finally rounding the corner into the kitchen, giving them both a smile.

“You,” they said together. You rolled your eyes and went to the cupboard, going up on your tiptoes and finding the Tupperware container.

“I know you’re not digging into my personal stash,” said your dad. You pulled down the container and popped off the lid, plopping a brownie in your mouth.

“Oh, rebel,” said Jared with a laugh. “Toss me one.”

“Those are mine!” said your dad.

“I baked them,” you said.

“Fine,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you. “Is that my shirt?”

“It’s TJ’s. I can’t help it if both you dorks like the Eagles,” you said.

“Where’d you get it,” he said.

“Santa Claus. Who do you think? TJ,” you said.

“So it was a present,” he said.

“Pretty sure she stole it from him, Jens. Sort of a chick move in my experience,” said Jared.

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Chick move when people are up to...things.”

“You mean sex?” you joked, his face immediately in a wince. “I stole it out of his laundry, alright? I spilled a drink on my shirt.”

“Wait until they get big,” said your dad to Jared, pointing at you. “They get the sass and the grownup stuff and the blackmailing you thing.”

“So what if you hit mom’s car and blamed it on me?” you said.

“Jensen. Ross. Ackles,” the three of you heard, your mom stepping up the stairs from the walkout area. “I grounded her for that.”

“Oh, he knows,” you said, hopping up on the counter, watching her scowl at him. “This is exciting.”

“She went along with it!” he said.

“After I was already blamed and grounded for it,” you said. “Also, I’m almost 21. I can not be grounded anymore.”

“Alright. But whatever you got for this, you’re giving back,” she said.

“I didn’t get anything though,” you said.

“She’s pretty shitty at blackmail to be honest,” he said.

“Next time anybody has an accident, just say something, alright?” said your mom. You both nodded and she sighed. “Alright, I’m going to bed. Goodnight troublemakers.”

“Night,” you said. Jared finished up his drink as you caught your dad’s arm while he turned on the alarm by the front door.

“What’s up, kiddo?” he asked.

“Can we invite Jared to stay over tonight? He wasn’t having a great weekend and those guys aren’t getting home until the morning,” you said.

“Remember when he scared you that first time he came over?” he said, licking his thumb and patting down a piece of hair of yours that must have been sticking up from the shower. “He’s always welcome to stay if he needs to.”

“I can hear the two of you,” said Jared, a smile in his voice. “I really should head home, do a few things before bed.”

“Oh. Okay,” you said.

“But they can wait until the morning,” he said, giving your dad a nod. “Mind if I borrow something to sleep in?”

“Sure,” said your dad. “Why don’t you guys throw on a movie and I’ll be there in just a minute?’

“Sounds like a plan,” said Jared.

Jensen’s POV

“She is out like a light,” I said, walking around the back of the couch, Jared chuckling from one end, Y/N using his leg as a pillow.

“Barely turned on the movie and tossed a blanket on her before she was conked out. We were out on the water the past two days. She’s got to be pooped,” said Jared.

“So was kiddo right about you not doing so hot this weekend?” I asked, crossing my arms. Jared nodded, giving her a smile. “She loves you, you know.”

“I know. She knows I love her too,” said Jared, tilting his head at her. “Yesterday when we talked, she told me some stuff. I know I already said something but...”

“She keeps that stuff pretty close to the chest,” I said, Jared nodding.

“I was sitting there thinking, I want to be as strong as her someday. I want to be as good as you, to invite a kid into your home, your family...you guys are pretty good role models,” he said.

“You are strong and you are good,” I said, ruffling his head, throwing a blanket over part of him. “Take it from someone who knows. You want to talk about anything?”

“No. I’m pretty tired actually,” he said.

“If you do, wake up that one. She’s got a knack for saying sweet shit,” I said. Jared hummed and he opened his mouth.

“Jensen?” he asked.

“Mhm?” I said.

“How do you deal with knowing someone hurt someone you love like that?” asked Jared. “Like, I’m so angry...at people I don’t even know. I don’t know what to do with that.”

“I get angry too. But I think of her and how far she’s come. How smart she is and kind and how big of a fuck you she’s giving all those assholes that hurt her. There are very few things I am absolutely positive on in life but one of them is that kid right there...she’s my daughter and she does not need an angry, overprotective man in her life. She wants respect and kindness and she likes to cuddle up because I know it makes her feel safe even though she thinks she’s too old for it. Be angry but not around her. With her...just be good,” I said.

“Older kids are kind of nice, aren’t they,” said Jared.

“Yeah. Gets a little funny sometimes. Sometimes you feel like dad, sometimes you just feel like a friend. Pretty awesome aside from the one downfall,” I said, walking around the couch when Y/N started to turn over, rubbing her bare arms in her sleep.

“What downfall?” asked Jared.

“Heavy as fuck to carry to bed,” I said with a smile, Jared chuckling as I got my arms under Y/N. “Let’s give Jared some space to sleep, honey.”

“Night. Tell kiddo thanks for me when she wakes up in the morning,” said Jared.

“You got it. Sleep easy, buddy.”

A/N: Check out the Vacation timestamp here!

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S3 Ep 41-42: Surprise, It’s Cards

Yo it’s...still hot here. Not as hot as last week, but hot enough that I’m writing like 2000 words less than normal per post. Weird, right? But hey, that’s the weather, amiright? So, last we left off, Yugi was tossed yet another MacGuffin at the last minute--and because Mai is out for the count, currently being mixed with sand via an hourglass--this time the MacGuffin came from Kaiba. He is our MacGuffinGiver Now.

Not sure why Kaiba made it a point to show off how good of a friend he was, or why suddenly Yugi decided to pull a 180 from “I don’t know if I can to trust you” to “I’m Pretty Sure that I’m bestest friends with Seto Kaiba,” but man, it just took one coma for Joey to lose that bff status.

It just feels kind of weird because the last time Kaiba and Yugi were talking, Yugi was trashing talking Kaiba into pieces and Kaiba was screaming at the top of his lungs that Kaiba himself was finished, ruined, nothing, etc.

But they seem completely over it now. It’s really good for their relationships that both of these people have such severe short term memory loss.

(read more under the cut)

So the next few episodes are really duel heavy and you know how little I watch the cards here, and I’ll go over...some things? Maybe? I dunno, I mostly just want to talk about Marik’s gross ass blood pressure.

I may have mentioned this before but it must be really great for that one doctor aboard the Kaiba ship to keep walking by Marik and just every time know exactly what would cause this. Like I dunno what would have to happen to cause this, but that one doctor is just probably thinking of every disease but cards.

It doesn’t take very long for the purple shadow clouds to roll over their duel, and for everyone on and nearby the stage to slowly put their hands to their foreheads.

It’s...

Guys it’s just hangman. I mean we’ll get there but it’s hangman for illiterate people, which is perfect for Pharaoh, who, we’ve mentioned before cannot read to save his own life.

Also this happened:

For the three people who are just super into Mai, here she is! She’s been gone for about a season and a half, only showing up in flashbacks that didn’t exist between her and Joey Wheeler, but she’s here now. It’s Mai. So glad she’s back on the show, it’s been way too long. I actually do enjoy Mai so, kinda wish she had been here a little more.

Bye Mai. Glad you showed up for that one scene.

As Pharaoh is now super pumped up to enact his revenge and save Mai from Ｓａｎｄ, Marik decides to introduce to us the shtick. I’ll be honest, I didn’t see this one coming. See, I figured there was just absolutely no way that this show was ever going to get as effed up as the Murder Basement Clown With The Bandsaw ever again.

I figured, after Murder Basement Clown with the Bandsaw That Chops off Your Ankles, that they would have received so many letters from concerned parents, that they would have shut down anything coming remotely close to that again.

Thing is, that’s using 2019 logic, and this was 2001, a pretty crazy time in children’s storytelling. The era that did this:

Why slice off just ankles when you can slice up the whole damn boy!? And not just once, but an endless number of times before he’s ghosted to the shadow realm. Again, Yugioh just writing our super violent fanfiction fantasies for us.

*Tea had absolutely no comment when she saw this happen. Apparently having a Marik in your brain feels the same amount of confusing as when you don’t.*

Bro mentioned that now Tea can’t literally ghost Yugi anymore, she’ll just has to ignore him the normal way and wow. Bro going after the only canon ship on this show.

Anyways, in case you were thinking “yeah, but they’ll never actually start chopping off body parts,” well don’t worry. They do. Immediately. They were so thirsty to start chopping up little Yugi muto. And, they do it with a funny purple gas effect as if Yugi’s some sort of pipe under pressure?? Check out that cloud brush in action.

I wasn’t really expecting for Pharaoh to give up halfway through round one but I guess the world to him without Yugi in it is no world at all. Quite literally, because he cannot experience the world without Yugi existing.

But can you imagine having the audacity to forfeit the winning game of Kaiba’s tournament right in front of Kaiba? And then just having that added layer of irony that Kaiba was JUST about to blow up this island five seconds ago so that out of his own spite, this final game wouldn’t happen? But, now that he scrapped together two tiny bits of humility, Kaiba let the games continue, and then Pharaoh went up there and decided to forfeit right in front of his face? Amazing. It’s like Kaiba knew he had to blow up the island with everyone on it. He knew this would happen.

Thankfully, as one half of Yugi has a melt down, there’s always the other half to scold him back into action. The other half that does seem kinda DOWN to get strung up and chopped into pieces.

Episodes end, card things happen, God cards are played, and then we’re back straight to Fire Tornado and Joey was REALLY excited to recap the entirety of his involvement with Fire Tornado. I know that it was for the kids who are tuning into the show for the first time (lol I can’t imagine) but it was also just kinda low key funny that he turned to everyone to explain it like they were passing by a tourist attraction.

And then, remember how I was waiting like a whole season for someone to finally drop the deets that Bakura freakin died an entire season ago? Like he’s been dead for over 40 episodes. 42 Episodes.

Well it happened, and I was a little disappointed by how little everyone cared. Their reaction was very “again???” as if this has happened to Bakura before. And it was like...your friend is dead? No one? No one wants to properly freak out about it? I mean, I guess of all their friends, this is the very worst one so...can’t blame Bakura too much for always trying (and occasionally succeeding) to kill them.

And then this gross thing happened.

Which was actually kind of neat when you think about Pegasus’ powers. You do kind of wonder--why did he sacrifice an eye? But maybe...Pegasus still had both eyes the whole time, the other one was just hanging out somewhere else. Like, it infers a lot about how the Pegasus powers worked, but of course this episode didn’t dive into that at all because Marik turned himself into a final fantasy boss.

It last like...I dunno...5-10 minutes before Marik decided to hop back out of the bird and back to being just a normal guy again. It was nice that for a little while he decided to be a Yugioh version of what a Gundam is. (Other than that one time they had a literal Gundam in this show that played cards.)

Anyways, next week,

Will this island ever blow a freakin fuse? After they return to Domino to find that every TV freakin exploded, will cards finally be outlawed and only played in speakeasies or Canada (no, right???) Did Grandpa ever get off the floor of the hospital since S2 or is he still just hanging out there this whole time?

And if you just got here, you can read my Yugioh only recaps in Chronological order by clicking here

[spacegirlapollo]

Into the Storm (Peter X Reader)

Pairing: Peter X Reader ( Mary) 

No Warnings 

Action/Fluff/Drama 

One shot 

Reading Under the break 

Heavy rain sloshed like bricks on the empty New York Streets. Your heavy footsteps could barely be heard over the sounds of the thick and angry rain. If there was anything to be grateful for on the worst day of your life, it was the fact that your shoes had enough grip to run through the wet and soggy streets. No one sane would have been caught outside, and those who were semi - insane were at least underneath restaurant or shop awnings.

It wasn’t like the rain had been going for a while, in fact by your rushed calculations it had only been raining this hard for three minutes.

You whipped your head around at the sound of thunder cracking open the sky above you. There was no one in the street behind you but that didn’t mean that they weren't close.

You could see it in front of you, your father’s building with the bright and shiny A that lit up the night. You just needed to get into the doors. You just needed to past the threshold and you would be safe.

--20 mins earlier--

“Mary!” Tony yelled out, the sound of his pulsers shooting out its blast, almost drowning out his scream. You turned to look at your father, your heart thudding in your chest.

“Get Peter and go!” He yelled and you flinched from the sound of his voice popping in your ear set.

You were standing inside of a large dome, the size of a football field, and wind was whipping past your face a mile a minute. All around you were the other Avengers, either unconscious or severely injured. You could see Peter, still in his suit struggling to get off of the floor.

And in the middle of the dome was Nathan Alex, and other than having two first names, he had the ability to control the weather. And not just any weather, storms, was his specialty. You had heard the stories when your father and the rest of the Avengers had defeated them before, but you never knew just how terrifying tornadoes being thrown at you was until it happened.

“Mary!” Tony called again. Your view shifted from the barely able to move Peter to your father who was the last man standing against Nathan.

“I’m not leaving !” You yelled into your ear piece moving your hair out of your face as it whipped violently in the wind.

Tony sent another blast towards Nathan but Nathan was to quick and and sent a wind strong enough to knock you on your back and to ruin the aim on your fathers shot. You stood up, and huffed a breath. This was getting annoying. And you were starting to feel a little… scared. You’d seen your father and his team take down worse than Nathan. What was was so different about this time?

Tony hadn’t wanted you to come, trying to convince you by saying that taking down Nathan would be easy and boring and that you wouldn't have any fun. But then when you shot back with how if Nathan was so easy to take down, what was he scared of , he gave you a look before letting you come with. Only as an emergency plan. That’s what you always were, the backup plan. The last resort. You’re powers were a little…. Hard to control and everyone knew that which is why you always had to stay back, or watch from the sidelines.

“I can take him!” you yell into your ear piece.

“No!’ Tony said before being knocked down by more wind. “Get her out of here Peter!” Tony said. You were confused but as you turned around you could see that Peter, your worn and beat up boyfriend was crouched next to you. He seemed barely able to stand up. But he gave you that cute lopsided smile of his before getting more serious.

“Sorry, m’bout this babe.” He slurred before striking your back with something in his hand. It was too quick to react but you could feel the tiny rocket kick start and start to drag you backwards.

“No Peter No!” You screamed before the tiny rocket pulled you out of the dome in quick speeds. The last thing you could see was Tony falling hard to the ground and Peter collapsing next to him.

You for a moment thought it was raining, but it was tears falling down your eyes as you were pulled against your will from the dome.

---- Present Time ----

Because of how uncontrollable your powers were, you knew that your father kept vials of tranquilizer somewhere in his lab to make sure that if you were to ever get out of control, they had a chance of stopping you.

You feet hit the tiled lobby of your home and you took a deep breath. You made it. Now all you had to do was get the vials for later. But as you turned around you were thrown off your feet as a large gust of wind knocked out the glass of the lobby and swung the doors open. There was Nathan, his eyes a weird white color that reflected the storm outside.

“Please!” You said loudly to be heard over the rain, you could feet the cuts where the glass had sliced your skin.

“Don’t make me do this.”

Thunder cracked again and Nathan’s looked down at you. He hadn’t said much all during the fight but now he spoke.

“Your father ruined my life, so now I will ruin his.” He stepped forward looking ready to kill and you took a deep breath.

Suddenly he was moving in slow motion. Every step he took seemed to take forever. You could feel the tingling in your bones, the energy being ready to be set free. You could just feel it ready to take over.

Finally it was going to be free.

Finally it was going to be released.

Finally.  Said the voice of the being inside of you. You were alot line the Hulk in that another person seemed to live inside you. You had control most of the time over that person, but when you let it out, they were pure fire and energy. They were hungry for blood and screams. And they were almost too powerful to be contained. Innocent people were likely to get hurt.

“Fine.” You growled as your whole being seemed to be on fire. Nathan seemed to hesitate for a moment as your whole body went up in flames. You smirked.

“Let’s do this.” Nathan said his eyes turning a fiery blue color. You smirked and clinched your fist together in a fighting stance.

Nathan grew a tornado from the palm of his head and threw it at you.You were prepared this time. As the windy inferno approached you opened your mouth to exhale. You sucked in the wind as if it was a piece of spaghetti.

You could feel the power in you growing as you absorb the force of the wind. There was really no way to define what was in you, but it craved power and blood and control. It didn't matter where it came from, it only made you stronger. And that’s where the danger comes in. You typically felt like you had two hands on the wheel when it came to your mind. But the sudden need, addiction to power would take one hand on the wheel and steer you in the bloodiest direction, and it took quite a bit to get you to stop.

Aren’t you angry? The voice asked, and in your mind you could see the tired and crumpled bodies of the people you had come to know as family. And the defeated face of your father as he lied there next to Peter. Sweet, goofy Peter. You were pretty young but you knew that you were going to marry that boy. You knew that he hadn’t wanted you to come to the dome to fight either, but he hadn’t said anything because he knew how much you hated sitting at home, waiting for everyone to come back in one piece when you could have helped. You thought about his lopsided smile he gave you to mask all the pain he was obviously in. So yeah you were a little pissed off.

There she is. The voice said as you felt your heart rate picking up and you could hear your heavy angry breaths coming from your lips. You were pretty pissed off. And now it was time to end this.

Nathan was still hovering above the air, the thunder and lighting were crackling now and you could see the faces of people looking out from their windows and from alley ways to watch the fight.

“Impressive.” Nathan said. “ No wonder Daddy keeps you a secret like his personal lab rat.”

Your eye twitched at this and Nathan smirked seeing that he hit a nerve.

“You’re just a freak. The rest of us can control our powers, but I’m betting you can’t. You wouldn't even be able to stop yourself hurting your own father!”

“Shut up!” You screamed, the flames that were engulfing you burned brighter.

“ You’re just a stupid little girl who dissapoints her dad! But don’t worry after I’m finished killing you, I’ll make sure that Tony sees you and can be dissapointed in you one more time.”

“SHUT UP!” Your voice came out booming, and the tornado that you had sucked in came bursting back out with flames spiraling towards Nathan at incredible speeds.

Nathan narrowly missed it and you could see the worry grace his face for a half second.

You ran forward, each of you steps sounding like wrecking balls striking concrete. You let out a howl that was more than just a battle cry. It rang of the buildings and echoed through the sky becoming louder even than the thunder.

You were lifted into the air by sheer force of will and punched Nathan on his shocked face.

He went tumbling backwards his storm faltering and the sky starting to clear up. He landed on his back, hard into the pavement.

You slammed down on top of his straddling this waist and punched him again with a fiery fist.

“BEG FOR ME TO STOP” You screamed, your voice no longer belonging to you. You were one with the rage now, and there was no going back. You were punching him so hard that the concrete began to split underneath his head.

The key to getting to Nathan was just being able to touch him. He did such a good job with keeping you away from him with his storms, but when you had him pinned he was useless.

The sky began to clear up and you could feel the sun on your back as you raised your hand again to punch the now unconscious Nathan. You wanted Blood.

You could faintly here the crackle of your ear com, and people speaking through it.

“Who’s got eyes?” Tony said, he sounded like he was running.

“ I do, Right outside the steps of the building, we need that stuff now Tony.” Clint said

“ I got it.” Steve was saying and he also sounded like he was running.

Your turned to look behind you and you could see Steve, bloody and clothes tore, running up the stairs in the Avengers tower, and you immediately knew what he was after. They wanted to stop you, shut you down.

“NO!” You screamed again and began bum rushing for the tower. Before you could enter, there was a gust of wind and Thor dropped down in front of you.

“Mary, I cannot let you pass, you are not well.” He said, trying to give you a warm smile, but you could see the determination in his eyes.

“I am not well? It is you Thor son of Odin who will be unwell.” You say and your fire begins to go up again.

“Got em.” Steve’s barely audible voice says.

“Give them here.” Tony says, and before you can make a move towards Thor, there was your father coming down to the ground and limping out of his suit, In his hands were the needles full of tranq.

“Mary sweetie.” He said and he took a step forward.

“NO!” You screamed, the being in side of you knowing that it would be over soon, and it had barely gotten a taste of freedom.

“You keep me locked away! You hide me  because you are ashamed! Ashamed of all my power!”

“Sweetie, I’m not ashamed of you.” Tony said taking another step towards you while you took another one back.

“ I love you, and I don't want you to get hurt.” He said, continually moving closer as you step further from him. “ Your gift is amazing, but sometimes it’s also a curse. And until you can learn to control it, we have to do this.”

Tears were falling from your face again, you felt like maybe you were gaining a bit of the wheel back from the anger.

“You’re lying!” the voice said from your lips again, desperate.. “ I don’t want to go back!”

“I’m sorry sweetie.” Tony said and stopped moving towards you. You paused confused , then felt the sting of needles entering your back. Liquid coarsed through your veins quickly and you turned around to see Peter, holding the empty syringes.

He looked sad and worn out. And you suddenly felt ashamed. You must have done it again. Gone out of control.

You felt your consciousness slipping and the ground felt uneasy. Almost as if in slow motion, Peter reached out for you as your world went black. The last thing you could remember was his warm body pressed next to you.

------------- 2 days later ---------------

It took an entire 48 hours for you to waken again. It was typically like this, the tranq was a heavy dose, but “going dark” as you liked to call it, also took up all your energy and your body needed time to even wake up again. Sometimes a whole week could go by before you were awake.

But as you woke you could smell the smells of your room, you made sure it always smelled like spices and autumn. You blinked your eyes open slowly as things came into view. You were in fact in your room, in your bed. It was night, you could tell from the moonlight coming from your window.

The view to your left made your heart skip a beat, there was peter, sleep on a cot next to your bed. You could see where he was healing from some cuts and bruises. His eyes were a bit puffy as he slept soundly.

It all came back to you all at once and suddenly you began to cry. You tried to control your sniffs but you couldn’t. Peter stirred and stretched a bit. He looked up at you expecting to see you still sleeping but his face dropped at seeing you cry.

Without saying anything he rose from his cot and pulled back the covers on the bed, he slid in and pulled you close. You appreciated his warmth as you cried heavily into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” You said when you had finished. He pulled back and smiled his Peter Parker smile at you.

“ There's nothing to be sorry for babe, you saved us. You did what none of us could. We wouldn't be here without you.”

You hadn't thought of it like that.

“But I was out of control again.” You said softly back.

Peter shrugged and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You know how many cities Hulk has ruined? You being a little out of control is nothing.”

You laughed a little at this and his smile brightened.

“I love you, Peter Parker.” You said. It wasn’t the first time that you had said it. But you really meant it.

“And I love you, Mary Stark” He replied. “ And I’m never going to let anything happen to you.”

His usual goofiness was gone and he was serious, just like you had been. He rubbed his thumb softly on your chin before bringing you closer for a kiss.

A soft, lovely kiss, that made your heart swell. You could have been lost in him for days, but a cough made you both jump back.

There was Tony, smirking at the both of you, holding breakfast, for two.

“ Hi dad.” You said with a small smile. He beamed back at you.

“Hi Sweetie.”

----- Hope you liked it ! 

[rockindragonz]

Theory and Practice

Words: 4554

Summary: Indrid draws a future that forces him to confront the feelings he's been slowly developing for everyone's favorite regular ass dude.  AKA 5 times Indrid saw the future vs the 1 time he didn't

Ao3

Time is funny for people who can see the future.  Even if Indrid couldn’t see exactly what was going to happen, he could still see the possible outcomes of any given situation.  This always put him one step ahead in theory, but two steps behind in reality.  While everyone else was living in the present, he was living 3 seconds ahead, so he missed out on the spontaneous things people would sometimes do.  It was probably that spontaneity that drew him so magnetically to Duck Newton.

The man was peculiar in more ways than one.  His face was soft, but aged beyond his years.  His eyes were bright, but constantly exhausted.  His body was strong, but his bones cracked and popped with nearly every movement.  Most importantly though, despite the destiny Minerva had nicely laid out in front of him, Duck refused it and fought against it as much as he could.  He purposely tried to do the unexpected things, the spontaneous things, that made Indrid have to scrap all of his drawings and start over.  Normally, this would have been a nuisance, but he found himself drawn to the chaos that Duck created.  Whenever Duck was in the room, Indrid found himself anticipating the things he would say, the paths he would take, the new ones he would create.  Sometimes, of course, Duck did the expected thing.  Sometimes he did his “chosen duty” of saving people, but he and his companions always found a different way of making things interesting.

That is why Indrid finds himself where he is: with a single lonely drawing of an odd future.  A drawing of him kissing Duck Newton.

“Indrid, man, are you still there?” Duck said, and he sounded worried. It was their usual chatting time right now.  Indrid knew that whenever he went quiet for too long, Duck would grow concerned over the possible futures running through his head.  “Hey, uh, listen, I can call back later if now's a bad time.”

Indrid coughed in what he hoped was a convincing way.  “I'm okay, sorry Duck, just, um, choking on air, a possible future caught me off guard,” he said as smoothly as he could, “Nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?  You freaked me out for a sec there.”  Duck's voice was concerned, almost afraid in a weird way.  Indrid was certain his mind was conjuring up all sorts of possible reasons one of Indrid's visions would cause him to choke briefly.

“Yes I'm sure, it's not a big deal, just a… surprising future is all.”

“Oooookay man… I trust you.  Just let me know ASAP if anything changes,” Duck said.  

There was a brief lull in the conversation as Indrid carefully considered his next action.  These visions weren’t completely new; there were a few futures where Indrid and Duck kissed at their first meeting, and even a miniscule amount where more happened. But those visions were usually so insignificant that Indrid paid them no mind. The mere fact that he drew that timeline meant that there were enough iterations of it that he might have to plan for it.  Indrid shook his head as he suddenly realized that he was still on the phone, and laughed quietly.

“You are full of surprises, Duck Newton, absolutely full of surprises,” Indrid said into the phone.

Duck shuffled around on the other end. “Well, uh, is that uh, a good thing?”

“Yes, it brings variety to my life, so thank you,” Indrid smiled, “It gets rather boring knowing everything that will happen.  You frequently send us down unlikely paths and force me to rethink everything, and to be honest I thoroughly enjoy it.”

“You’re, uh, you’re welcome, I guess?  I don’t know, Indrid, I just don’t wanna be stuck in a box, you know?  I— I’m multidimensional man!  I have feelings and shit!” Duck said, his voice raising in pitch slightly.  Indrid chuckled as he looked down at the paper with an unfamiliar fondness.  As Duck rambled, the future in front of Indrid became slightly more likely, and Indrid found himself wanting this vision to come true.  And as soon as that clicked, Indrid knew he was irrevocably fucked.

*

The drawing had taken up permanent residence on the wall, even if that specific moment had passed.  It was odd for Indrid to keep such a drawing; usually he threw them out as soon as they were no longer relevant, but something kept him attached to this one.  He wasn’t sure if it was the nature of the drawing, or if it was because of who it was with, or even if it was because it was simply such an odd future that Indrid just couldn’t seem to let go of it.

Duck was set to come by the Winnebago later to talk about the most recent developments regarding Billy and the abomination— sorry, bom-bom. The drawing was carefully stowed away in one of Indrid’s many journals and stashed under his bed.  He understood the underside of a bed to be where all humans kept their more private items.  That or a bedside table, but this drawing wasn’t something Indrid would need offhand.

Usually, Duck didn’t get the chance to knock, but Indrid was distracted with drawing other possible futures, so he simply let Duck knock and told him that the door was open.  As Duck pushed the door open, new and rather… interesting futures appeared with varying levels of appropriateness.  Indrid cleared his throat and forced himself not to focus on one of the more explicit ones.

“Hey man, thanks for letting me come over, I just needed to, I dunno, talk through some shit with you without the other two cracking jokes about it,” Duck said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That’s quite alright, Duck, please sit down, would you like some nog?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, fuck it,” Duck laughed nervously.

 As soon as those words left Duck’s mouth, more of the futures Indrid was enjoying popped up, and he smiled a little bit.

“You never cease to surprise me, Duck,” Indrid said. “So what is it you wished to ask me?”  

He placed a cup of eggnog in front of Duck and sat opposite him at the small table in his camper.  It was nothing special, just a typical plastic table with a bench that was just a little bit too small.  Indrid smiled as he watched Duck fiddle with the cup. He seemed to be trying to find the right words.

“How do you - how do you deal with seeing the future?  How do you know which ones’ll come true?” Duck said.  Ah, so they were in this timeline then.

Indrid leaned casually on the table. “Well, you’ve seen my drawings, obviously, and you’ve seen me at work.  Typically, it starts with an event that creates ripples.  A person will say or do something seemingly insignificant, but it will affect every single future to come.  That being said, sometimes there are multiple futures that can branch off of one incident, but those futures are whittled down by other factors.  Things as small as the temperature outside, the wind levels, whether someone sneezes or doesn’t.”  He paused.  “My best outlet is my drawings and my knowledge that worst-case scenarios are just that— worst case.  Disaster scenarios are always present— floods, earthquakes, tornadoes, even something as dramatic as a meteor but these futures are so unlikely that—”

“Sorry, did you say meteor?” Duck interrupted.

“I did, but even as you asked that, that situation became less likely,” Indrid said with a knowing smile.  Duck’s cheeks grew red as he continued to listen and he took a small sip of his eggnog.  “But those futures are already so unlikely to happen that I try not to worry too much about them.  It isn’t worth concerning myself over an almost impossible future, doing that would be maddening.  And there are some less dramatic examples, like ones where I have relations with others that I have to ignore so that I don’t affect those outcomes.”

“But what if one of those situations were to become more likely?  What would you do then?” Duck asked.

“I would have to warn my friends and family that already know of my abilities to avoid another… incident.”

“Shit, man, I’m sorry, that was real rude of me,” Duck said, face burning crimson again.

“Pay it no mind,” Indrid said with a dismissive wave. “What’s done is done.  I may be able to see the future, but I cannot change the past.”  

There was silence for a moment as Duck considered his next words carefully.  Indrid smiled patiently, but he reached for a pencil and sketchbook he kept handy if a future popped up that demanded recording.  He drew idly as he waited for Duck to speak.

Duck finally spoke, “Hey so, this is gonna - this’ll sound awful strange Indrid, but I, uh, I’m… Chosen.  I get these visions where I see— I see disasters and I see issues I need to fix and it has been drivin’ me insane.”  

Indrid ceased drawing as Duck started talking.  Suddenly, he was flooded with an array of new futures.  In simply telling Indrid of his status as a Chosen, Duck created new timelines, many of which featured the two of them together.

“I see,” Indrid said simply, “Er, my apologies for my short response, many futures have just been deleted from existence and many new ones just popped up.  It’s rather… overwhelming.  That doesn’t happen often, Duck.”

“Oh shit, man, I’m sorry, shit,” Duck said, reaching out to Indrid almost reflexively.

“As I said before, pay it no mind.  These things happen,” Indrid said.  The wave of futures was calming down, and his mind was once again a dull roar of possible outcomes.  He scrapped the drawing he had been working on, and pushed the pad and pencil aside.  There were too many variables in the upcoming futures for him to truly see which ones he needed to record.  “Duck, being Chosen is something very...special.  I have known since we met what you are, but I have very little details on it due to you not truly understanding it either, am I correct?”

“Yeah, yeah, I ain’t got shit,” Duck said.  A small laugh bubbled up through Indrid as Duck spoke.

“I figured as much.  Being Chosen isn’t easy - it is never easy to be special, but you are doing a wonderful job, Duck.  You do what must be done and you truly care for the wellbeing of others. Even for someone such as myself, who could have been a temporary aid.”

“Indrid, man, you know you’re more than just a tool, right?”  Duck said, “As useful as havin’ you around has been, that's not all you’re good for.  You’re funny, and clever, and altogether a really great guy.  Despite how you act, you care about Earth.  For fuck’s sake, you called us to warn us about Leo.  And the runaway train!”

For a moment, Indrid was in shock.  No one in all the years he had lived had ever said anything so kind to him.  And this man, this ridiculous Chosen man, who had known him for less than a month, was shouting his praises.  It was… unusual, to say the least.

“Look, Indrid, I… I should go, but I meant what I said.  You aren’t just a fuckin’ pawn or some shit, you’re our - well, you’re our friend.”  And then Duck stood up from the table and left.  And Indrid was left staring at his wall of drawings.  And he was left with a decision.

*

It wasn’t often that Indrid put himself in harm’s way on purpose.  He usually tried his damndest to avoid conflict in any situation, but this was different for him.  He allowed the goat man to take him hostage and beat him within an inch of his life.  Mainly because he knew that the Pine Guard would save him eventually, but also because he knew that Duck needed to see that he would only get in the way.  Since Duck had visited him last, Indrid had reflected on the visions he’d been having.

He realized that he was affecting the future, changing it to better fit his own desires.  If there were two paths, one leading to Duck and the other leading away from him, Indrid would take the path that led to Duck.  At first, he didn’t even notice it.  He would see himself tapping three times instead of four and would stop himself at three without paying it any mind.  When he finally realized what he had been doing, he forced himself to stop. But going against a future already set in motion was an insurmountable task, even for him.  There was no telling how his new choices could affect the future. So Indrid simply tried to stop caring.

That’s why he was telling himself that getting captured was important.  He was positive that if Duck were to see him weak and afraid and in pain, he would turn away, run even, like everyone always had.  Then there was, of course, the added variable of Duck probably being forced to see Indrid’s true form and be horrified once again.

And, while Indrid would never admit it, there were far too many futures where Duck was horribly injured when Indrid wasn’t there versus the few when Indrid was.

So when Indrid saw Duck burst through the clearing, wielding his sword and positively terrified, he was positive that this would be the last straw for him.

But it wasn’t.

Duck freed him from the chains, or he tried to at least, and in doing so he damaged his Chosen weapon, a feat that Indrid knew was difficult unless the Chosen really wanted to.  When Duck punched him to get the glasses off, Indrid didn’t see fear of him in his eyes as he became “The Mothman”, he saw fear for him as Duck urged him to run.  So, like Indrid did best, like he always had, he ran.

*

Indrid couldn’t bring himself to leave Kepler, despite that being the best option for everyone involved.  There were many futures where he left and went somewhere far away where none of them would be able to find him, but he once again ignored those futures and stayed put in his greasy Winnebago.

When Duck and the Pine Guard finally defeated the Bom-Bom, it was already dark out.  Indrid had enchanted another item for him to wear - an old necklace he kept hidden away - and was waiting with baited breath for Duck to arrive.  Indrid knew he would come and insist on giving him the glasses back, but Indrid couldn’t take them, or else it could lead to some of the more serious futures.  It was frustrating having to avoid a future he wanted, but he needed Duck to make the decision.

“Hey, Indrid, I’m-I’m here.  I brought your glasses back, but the gang doesn’t know I’m doing this, so let’s keep it on the DL?”  Duck pushed the door to the Winnebago open slowly and looked around the small camper.  Indrid was sitting on his couch, head in his hands, as he saw the futures swimming through his mind.  The punch Duck had delivered had been solid, but the time he had spent unconscious when the goat-man had taken him was the time that was only just now flooding back to him.

“Shit, Indrid, are you okay?”  Duck rushed over, seemingly forgetting the reason he had come, and he knelt in front of Indrid.  Indrid peeked at Duck, and saw a look of concern he was unfamiliar with.

“Too much.  Just a moment,” he spoke.  Duck simply nodded and made himself more comfortable beside Indrid on the small couch.  He bounced his leg anxiously as Indrid attempted to collect himself.  His whole body seemed to be vibrating with… something neither of them could quite put their finger on.  “Alright.”

“You feel better now?”

“Yes, I am fine now.  My apologies, I saw that you were coming and had to rush to enchant this new item so I may not look exactly as you remember.”  It was true.  Indrid’s form was similar, but there were certain things about him that were different. He was slightly closer to Duck’s height now, and his hair was quite a bit cleaner and shorter than it was before.  The most noticeable difference, however, was that he was much broader than before, so the camper felt a little smaller.

“It’s fine, I’m just glad you’re okay.  You know,” Duck started, and then paused to bite his lip as if he were contemplating his next words, “you know, I was… worried you would be gone by the time I got here.  I practically flew here, I ran so goddamn fast, never run that fast in my life.”

“I appreciate your concern, Duck, but I am quite alright.  I… figured you’d be coming by so I stayed put to see what you had to say,” he said.  The lie slipped so easily across his tongue, but it tasted like poison.  Indrid knew that he’d only stayed because he was selfish and wanted one last chance to see one of those futures through.

“I’m glad you stayed,” Duck said.  His face lit up and he sat up a little straighter.  “I-I-I mean the Pine Guard is glad, you were real helpful and, uh, yeah you’re a good dude and shit.”  Indrid laughed.  Duck had no idea how wrong he was.

“I put myself in harm’s way,” he said, “How is that helpful?”

“You kept them distracted.  You must have known what would happen with the goat-man and how it would change shit for us.  Because of you, they were distracted.”

“Yes, I make a good distraction, don’t I?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Duck said.  His voice was deep and loud, and his eyes narrowed at Indrid.  “What I meant to say was thank you.  I’m sorry I punched you, but I’m glad you are okay.  Sorry I yelled, but you have a thick skull for someone who knows what'll happen.”

“I can't help it,” Indrid said with a small, satisfied smile, “I like seeing you all riled up.”  He was teasing, of course he was teasing, but his words held some truth.  Seeing Duck so fiercely protective made something inside Indrid just kind of smile.

*

A couple days after the bom-bom was beaten, the door to Indrid's Winnebago slammed against the wall as Duck burst inside.  Indrid had been expecting the action, but it caused him to jump nonetheless.

“Duck?  Is everyone alright?”

“Indrid, man, I-I'm - I think I'm broken,” Duck said, voice wavering, “I'm not - 'm not tough!  I'm not fast or special, I'm just Duck fuckin’ Newton now.  I'm helpless, for fuck's sake I asked a gigantic fuckin’ magical cat for a fuckin’ helmet because I am scared shitless.  I have never felt so fuckin’ vulnerable in my life, Indrid.  What the hell am I supposed to do?”  He was pacing about the camper with his hands running through his hair.

Indrid was unsure of what to do at this point, so he took a breath and considered his words carefully. “Duck, I am sorry this has happened to you.  This is far more than even I could have predicted.  This is a path that seemed so unlikely I gave it no thought.”  

It was the truth, not the whole truth, but the truth.  Indrid hadn't paid it much mind because it seemed like a disaster scenario, but he'd dwelled on this event longer than the others because of his personal feelings for Duck.  

“I am sorry, Duck Newton, I am truly sorry.  What you do now is entirely up to you.  I see… futures where you are injured and I see futures where you prevail without a scratch, but Duck?”  Indrid paused, looking at Duck and biting his lip, unsure of if he should say what he was about to say, but he took a deep breath and spoke, “You are still Chosen. Losing your powers doesn't change that you were Chosen out of billions of people to protect Kepler.  You will have to be more careful now, so you don't wind up dead, but so long as you aren’t careless, you’re going to be amazing.”  

Indrid felt his heart pull painfully as he took in Duck's full appearance.  There were purple bags under his eyes, new wrinkles had formed on his forehead, his shirt was half untucked. Really, he just looked like absolute hell.

“Indrid?  You really think all that?” Duck looked up at him.

“Oh Duck, of course I do,” Indrid said, voice betraying something slightly softer than what he’d meant to say.  Duck smiled at him and Indrid felt his heart soar.  Life was difficult knowing everything that could happen, but Duck made things a little easier to bear.

The two of them talked for hours about life, the universe, and everything.  Duck ranted about the expectations that came with being Chosen, Indrid reminded him that he was the one holding himself to those impossible standards.  Indrid talked briefly about the more explicit futures he would see, and Duck laughed. The sound was music to Indrid’s ears.  Duck talked softly about his sister, June.  Indrid said that he’d love to meet her someday, to which Duck responded that it might be hard to explain his whole ‘Winnebago eggnog weirdness’ (Duck’s words, not his).

It was the happiest Indrid had ever been.

*

Indrid was exhausted.  The futures where Duck confessed to him had gotten more and more likely as the weeks went on.  They’d begun speaking more frequently, Duck came to the Winnebago more often, and Indrid had even visited Duck’s apartment once; he had the cutest cat that liked to curl up on Indrid’s lap.  His life was becoming more involved with the Pine Guard.  They’d tried to get him to come with them to the lodge a few times, but he refused, citing that he didn’t really fit in with the rest of the Sylphs.

Today was one of the days where Indrid was staring at the many drawings he’d made of the two of them, debating on whether he should act or not.  He’d honestly been waiting to see if Duck even wanted something like that in this timeline, but he was growing impatient.  Duck was a hard man to read.  He’d say one thing, but his eyes would say another.  He’d do one thing with certain motivations, but his actual motivations would be vastly different.  As always, Duck Newton was an enigma.

Lost in thought, Indrid almost ignored the ringing of his phone.

“Hello, Duck, how are you?”

“Good, good, I’m all good here.  Hey, listen, I’m headed over right now, I needa talk to you about some— some shit, is now good for you?  Or should I come later?  I can come later if that’s better, I ain’t got anything else to do.”

“Right now is fine, I’ll be busy drawing, so just come in when you arrive.”

“Gotcha, I’ll, uh, see you in a bit man.”  Before Indrid could say anything, Duck hung up the phone.  As he looked to the future, Indrid was surprised to see almost no futures where Duck ‘made a move’ as it were.  There was one, but it was highly unlikely, and would only be determined moments before it happened.  With a frown, Indrid studied the futures, looking as far ahead as his vision would allow, and he drew out various likely events and pinned them to his wall.  He didn’t know how much time had passed by the time Duck got there, but the door swung open slowly as Duck peered into the Winnebago.

“Ah, Duck, good to see you,” Indrid said, “please, take a set, feel free to get yourself some eggnog from the fridge.”

“Uh, yeah, nah, I’m good man, just uh— I’m good.”  He stood awkwardly near the door and bounced from one foot to the other, looking around the small home.  It had gotten significantly cleaner since Duck had started visiting, but it was a still barely organized.  The awkwardness Duck felt was coming off him in waves.

Indrid set his pencil down and turned to him with, what he hoped, was a reassuring smile. “What’s on your mind, Duck Newton?”

Duck fidgeted for a moment before looking up at Indrid, his eyebrows knitted.  “I, uh, I needed to ask about some stuff, like the next Abomination, ‘cause we’re gettin’ real close to the time frame, and we’re all gettin’ super nervous ‘n’ everything and so we just wanna, ya know, know?”

“Well, uh, that is still a little outside of my vision, but I will be sure to let you know what’s happening as soon as I know what’s happening.”

“Yeah, sure, I mean, of course,” Duck said.  He stood there, bouncing from foot to foot faster than before.

“Was there… something else you needed?”  Indrid stood up, trying to look as non-threatening as he possibly could in his tall, lanky, not-quite-human form.

“Well, yeah, shit— I-I— shit, ‘Drid, this is fuckin’ weird,” Duck laughed, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at the ground, “I just, well I just wanted to say thank you for everything in the last little while here.  It’s been— it’s been real rough without Minerva and without, you know, havin’ all my powers.  I’m just a regular ass dude now, and I have pains I never knew I had everywhere.  Shit, dude, I feel so much older.  But yeah, um, thank you for helpin’ me out and for listenin’ to me all the time.”

Indrid nodded, “Of course, Duck.  I know what you went through, maybe better than others on account of my own abilities, but I can never truly understand.  I try, Duck, and I’m glad I’ve helped, if even a little bit.”

“You’ve done more than a little bit,” Duck said, stepping closer, “you’ve— you’ve listened and you’ve cared— or at least acted like it— and you’re literally always home and willing to let me come over, even at two in the fuckin’ morning.”

Before he could stop himself, Indrid’s face softened as he looked at Duck and said, “I would do anything for you, Duck Newton.”  

As soon as the words left Indrid’s mouth, his eyes opened in slight shock.  He was not meant to say that out loud, not in any of the likely timelines anyways, and that could only mean—

Duck surged forward and pressed his lips to Indrid’s.  It was forceful, but soft at the same time.  Finally, finally, Indrid was experiencing what his visions had shown him, and it was much more overwhelming to feel everything rather than see it from an outsider’s view.  But it was so, so nice, and it just felt right.

Duck pulled back, suddenly all nerves and aware of himself, and held up his hands between them.  Indrid only laughed and shook his head, and then he pulled Duck back in.  This wonderful, perfect, strange enigma of a man was finally within his grasp and Indrid was never letting go.

And he knew he was fucked.

But he didn’t honestly give a shit.