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slasherhaven · 4 years

Note

Can I make a request with the slashers(whoever you would like)who has a s/o who doesn’t know what they do so when they catch them in the act, the s/o reaction to it is scared and they want to or try to leave the slashers. (If that makes since)

The Slashers’ S/O finding out about what they do:

Thomas Hewitt

You had known Thomas for a while now. When he worked at the meat processing plant. He was quiet, kept to himself, but he was sweet. The sweetest man you had met in that place.

The two of you became close, you started dating.

Then the factory closed, most people moved out of town. You were trying to stay but it was getting difficult.

But the Hewitts stayed and you visited Thomas everyday. Luda May loved you and you loved her, thinking of her as a mother figure.

You loved Thomas and he loved you, more than anything.

You visited everyday, and today it seemed that nobody was home. But the door was open so you just let yourself in, knowing nobody would mind.

You called for Thomas but got no response. But you heard a sound in the basement.

Maybe he was doing some repairs or something down there? You just shrugged and headed down the stairs.

You froze at the bottom of the stairs.

There Thomas was, the man you loved, hacking up a body, reminding you of his time at the factory...but much more disturbing.

The stair creaked as you shifted, catching Thomas’ attention.

He turned, expecting Hoyt or Luda May but he saw you and froze.

“Tommy...”

You looked between him and the body of a young man before coming to your senses, darting back up the stairs and out of the house.

Thomas followed behind you. He wanted to explain...to beg for forgiveness...or do something.

He stopped at the front door, watching you cry as you climbed into your car and drove off.

Hoyt would have told him to go after you, you were a witness, he had to stop you. But Thomas stayed in the door way, tears staining his cheeks as he watched you leave. He let you go.

You were the best thing that ever happened to him, the only person to show him kindness and love. You made him feel like he might actually deserve love, somebody as good as you, but he didn’t. Of course he didn’t.

And he didn’t blame you for running.

He’s glad you did. He’d miss you more than anything, he would always love you, but a part of him is glad that you ran.

You deserved better than this, better than him.

You didn’t deserve to be dragged into this.

He wasn’t mad at you, just distraught that he didn’t get one more chance to tell you that he loved you, to hear you say that you loved him, before you left.

You decided that this would be a very good time to finally get out of time. For good.

You just didn’t know how Thomas was capable of this. He was always so sweet, kind, and considerate. Despite his size, he was incredibly gentle whenever he touched you, with everything he did.

You would never have guessed that he could hurt somebody, kill somebody and then...chop them up?

You wiped your tears as you drove home. Planning on grabbing your stuff before heading out just like the rest of the town had. They had it right this whole time...

Bo Sinclair

Keeping someone oblivious to the sinister truth of the town was difficult but Bo would be damned if he didn’t try his hardest to keep you away from it. You were the only person who could calm him down, the only person who had such a soothing effect on him and accepted him for who he was. He didn’t want you to find out.

But it was only matter of time and it happened in the worst way possible, you saw him kill somebody.

He hadn’t even noticed you until he stood up and turned to you, seeing you frozen to the spot, eyes wide in fear.

“Sweetheart, listen to me. We’re alright, you don’t need to freak out” Bo held his hands out to his sides, like he was trying to show you that he wasn’t going to hurt you.

“Freak out?! Bo you just-you killed him!” you exclaimed, completely horrified.

“There’s so much you don’t know” he told you, making you even more confused. Had he does this before? What else had he been hiding from you?

“Let’s just go back to the house, forget all about this” he suggested, walking up to you.

“...he was a nice kid...even apologised for cussing in front of me...he wouldn’t have hurt you and you-you killed him” you shook your head, taking steps backwards to keep your distance from the man you loved.

“Come on” Bo muttered, grabbing your arm firmly but not hard enough to hurt, before pulling you back up to the house.

You fought against him, nervous to even be around him.

“What about him? What are you going to do with him?” you asked, glancing back at where the body lay but it was soon out of sight.

“Vincent will deal with it” Bo assured you.

“Vincent? What the hell is going on, Bo?!” you looked back to him with wide eyes. Vincent wouldn’t hurt anyone...right?

Soon enough, you were back in the house. You wanted to give Bo the benefit of the doubt, maybe the man attacked him? You doubted it but it could have happened...

But those hopes where smashed when Bo told you the truth about everything, seemingly mad at himself.

“You mean...the figures...oh god” the horror on your face make Bo’s stomach tighten in the most unpleasant way.

You were mortified by the truth, scared of what happened here, scared of him.

“I...I’ve got to go” you mumbled, like you were in a daze, but all you knew was that you needed to get out of the town.

“Oh yeah? Where are you going to go?” Bo snapped slightly, his anger at you wanting to leave him getting the better of him for a moment.

“I’ll figure it out” you didn’t know, you didn’t care. You just had to get away from all of this.

“Y/n, you’re smarter than this. Now that you know about all this...we can’t let you leave” he told you. That was exactly what you were worried about.

“Bo...please...” you pleaded, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I’m not going to hurt you” Bo promised but how could you take his word for anything any more.

“Then let me go” you begged.

“I can’t” he shook his head.

You made a rush for the door but Bo quickly caught you, his heart aching when you screamed out.

But he tried to shush you, tried to sooth you. Holding you against his chest tightly.

Eventually your body stopped fighting and you went limp in his hold, crying into his chest as he held you, one hand stroking your hair.

Everything had changed, nothing would be the same again. You were the one person who hadn’t treated him like some sort of monster or nuisance. You loved him, cared for him, and now you might never do that again.

But he couldn’t risk you leaving and telling people about the town, he just couldn’t.

Vincent Sinclair

How he had managed to hide the dark truth about the town from you, Vincent had no idea.

He felt awful for lying to you but you came here during a hard time in your life, found a home here...you had treated him with so much love and kindness.

He loved you so much and you loved him dearly. So, he wanted to keep that a secret from you, to protect you from the awful things he and his brothers did.

But you found out...in the worst way he could imagine. He hadn’t locked the door to his workroom, and you wanted skipped right down the stairs.

You expected to find the man you loved working on his next piece of art, not covering a living human being with wax. By the time you got there, it was too late to stop the process.

“Vincent?” you spoke before you could think.

Despite being horrified, you couldn’t bring yourself to be completely scared of him. You thought you had known him so well, that he was the gentlest man you had ever met. He was so sweet, gentle, considerate, loving, timid...how could he hurt somebody like this?

Vincent quickly turned to you, completely mortified that you had seen any of this.

You couldn’t stand the sight, it was disgusting and not something you would quickly forget, so you quickly made your way back up the stairs.

Vincent hurried behind you. He wouldn’t grab you and he’d try not to scare you anymore but he couldn’t just let you run off. He hoped that there was some way you could forgive him for all of this...but he knew it was unlikely.

You had just left the house as Bo climbed out of his truck. It only took one look at your scared, teary expression to know what was going on.

It was Bo that physically caught you, asking what was wrong. But you tried to get out of his hold, knowing that whatever was going on here had to involve all of the brothers.

When Vincent hurried out of the house, seeing you and Bo, he headed over. He placed a hand on your shoulder, batting Bo away from you.

“You better handle this, Vincent. They can’t leave” Bo’s tone darkened slightly before he walked away, heading inside.

You quickly turned back to Vincent, eyes wide and teary.

You felt sick. Seeing that...knowing what Vincent did...what they all do...remembering all the times you had praised Vincent on the figures and how realistic they looks, oh god, you might throw up.

Vincent could see that and instinctively tried to comfort you, his heart stinging when you flinched away.

“...Bo’s not going to let me leave, is he?” you asked, voice cracking slightly, already knowing the answer.

A part of you still believed that Vincent would let you leave, he had never been anything but wonderful to you, you had to believe that at least some of that was real. But Bo had always been more wary of you, more intense, and you knew he was in charge here.

Vincent just shook his head, hating the way that the answer made you cry.

He knew you were scared and you had every right to be, but it still hurt that the thought of staying here with him made you sob like that.

“Please, Vinny” you pleaded.

What were you meant to do? Run? Bo would catch you and there was nowhere to do. There was no way you could make it to the nearest town without Bo finding you and bring you right back.

The look that Vincent gave you was sincerely apologetic and his touch was still gentle as he walked you back into the house, patient with your reluctant steps.

Nothing was going to be the same. Vincent knew what. You might have to stay here but now it will be against your will.

You will still be here but he had already lost you. Vincent knew that.

Lester Sinclair

You had thought Ambrose was a blessing. The three brothers taking you in during your time of need. You moved in properly with Lester a little later when you started dating.

But this town was far from a blessing, you realised that when you discovered the truth about the town, learning about how the brothers got their victims and what they did to them.

As soon as you saw all of this, you hurried back to the home you shared with Lester.

Oh Lester...sweet, energetic, kind Lester...how could he be apart of this?

You packed up a bag of things you’d need but before you made it out the door, Lester arrived him.

His heart broke when he saw you with your bag. You knew...you knew everything and you wanted to leave, you wanted to leave him...

“Y/n, I...I’m sorry” was he apologising for being involved in those people’s deaths, he guessed so. He knew it wouldn’t help but he hoped you could see his sincerity.

“How could you be a part of this, Lester?” you asked, tears staining your cheeks. You just couldn’t picture the man you loved ever purposely hurting an innocent person.

“I...I’m sorry” he wanted to give you an explanation just like you deserved but he didn’t have one, not one that would make things better. So he just apologised again, because he was so sorry that you had to see any of this. “...you’re leaving?” he asked, already knowing the answer and it killed him.

“Will you let me?” you asked, a little nervous about his response. You were terrified of what was happening in Ambrose, you didn’t want to be terrified of him as well.

Lester just nodded, giving you some sense of relief. You were free to leave.

You hung your head, unable to look at the man you loved, as you walked past him.

“Please, Y/n” Lester’s cracking voice made you stop, ready to hear whatever it was that he had to say. “...please just forget about Ambrose...” he pleaded with you. This time you just nodded before walking out the door.

You hoped you would be able to forget about this place but you doubted it.

Lester knew that he had to let you go. He shouldn’t have let you stayed in the first place, he shouldn’t have dragged you into this, he had to let you go because he loved you and thought you deserved better.

But he knew that Bo was going to go crazy about this but Bo wasn’t here right now, he wouldn’t have to find out until sometime tomorrow. By then you would be long gone.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

It was pretty late and Asa was staying late at work again (at least, that was what he told you). You were just about to turn in for the night when there was a knock on the door.

It wasn’t like Asa to forget his keys...and he took the car, so it couldn’t have been him.

You answered the door but nobody was there, just a folder on the doorstep. Asa would have chastised you for picking up a mysterious package and taking into the house but you were curious.

You sat down in the lounge and took a closer look, the notice taped to the front making you pause.

“Do you know where he goes at night?”

Was whoever left this for you talking about Asa? They had to be...

Your mind instantly went to that he was cheating on you. Now, you really didn’t think he would be cheating on you, that he would do that to you, but what else could that note mean?

You opened the folder and pulled out a stack of photos. You gasped at the images, nearly dropping them at first.

Various images of mutilated bodies, horrific...creations? God, why would anyone send you this and what did it have to do with Asa?

Coming to the last few photos there was a man with the victims, wearing some sort of dark mask.

It wasn’t until the last two photos that you knew without a doubt what all of this was about. The last photos showed the man removing his mask, revealing the face of the man you loved.

He made these...things? With body parts of people he...murdered? How could he do something so awful?

You threw the photos down onto the coffee table, wiping your tears and trying to not throw up your dinner. Asa hurt these people, killed them and made monstrous creations...and you had absolutely no idea...

You had to get out of here before he came home...

You jumped to your feet and headed for the bedroom. You needed to pack some belongings and leave, you were worried about what he would do when he found out that you knew. Even if you still couldn’t fully believe it.

The sound of a car pulling up outside made you pause.

Asa was home.

You heard the front door open and close. The lights were on, he knew you were still awake, so he called for you.

You panicked, tears still rolling down your cheeks as you locked the bedroom door.

Asa’s brow furrowed when he got no response from you but he paused when he walked into the lounge, seeing the photos scattered over the table. Who had sent these to you? He was going to kill them...

He called your name again but it only made you cry harder.

He walked up the stairs and towards the bedroom door, attempting to open it but finding it locked.

“Y/n. Open the door” he ordered, surprisingly gentle. “I know what you saw, let me explain everything to you.”

You had nowhere to go, you were locked in the bedroom. The only way out was through that door and Asa was on the other side.

“Did-did you do it?” you asked. You just needed him to give you an answer that proved those images wrong, to give you an explanation. You needed him to convince you that he hadn’t done those things.

Both of you were standing on either side of the door now, talking through the wood.

“You saw those photos. You know it was me. I’m not going to insult you by lying to you, you wouldn’t really believe me anyway” he sounded so calm. Too calm. It wasn’t the voice of somebody who’s partner just found out they were a serial killer.

“...why?” you had no idea why you asked that question. It didn’t matter, in the end. But a part of you needed to know why the man you loved would do something so vile.

“I don’t think I have a satisfying answer to that question” was his answer. He was right, that wasn’t what you wanted to hear at all. Though, you didn’t really know what you wanted to hear.

“...what now?” you felt safe behind this door. Even if you knew that you couldn’t stay behind it forever.

“I can’t let you go. Not knowing what you know, you know that” his calmness was more unsettling than the images...how could he be so calm about this?!

“I-I won’t tell anyone” you promised.

“Y/n, you know I can’t risk that” he was right and even you knew that.

“...please” you pleaded.

“I’m not going to hurt you, you just have to stay. I promise you’ll be okay, with me” Asa sounded convincing and you wanted to believe him but how could you when you found out that he had been hiding so much from you?

“Asa...”

“Open the door” he ordered again.

You didn’t. You fell asleep eventually, waking up to the door still locked. You thought that maybe Asa had given up but you knew that wasn’t like him. You whispered his name through the door and he was quick to respond. You weren’t getting out of this room without running straight into Asa.

That’s when you realised that you weren’t leaving. Asa couldn’t let you go.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Jesse has plenty of enemies, not that you know that, and it was one of those enemies that decided that the best way to get to him was through you.

You were home alone, Jesse away on a business trip, when somebody rang the doorbell.

When you answered the door, nobody was there. Just a box set on the doorstep.

You were careful, you looked around, gently opened the box but only saw videotapes. Weird.

You took the box inside and took a closer look. There were plenty of videotapes, the box full. Each one was labelled by a state, a town, a month. You didn’t know what any of that meant.

So, like an idiot, you played a tape.

You were horrified. The video was of a young woman being murdered gruesomely.

Why would anyone send you a box of snuff films? Who could be so disturbed.

And something in your gut told you that these were real.

You were just about to turn it off, sick to your stomach, about to call the police. About to message Jesse about this awful thing.

But then a man walked into frame. Bald, tall, fitted black suit, and wearing a chrome skull mask. Something so...unsettlingly familiar.

It couldn’t be...it just couldn’t be your Jesse...

But it was and you knew it. You turned off the video, ejecting the tape and throwing it to the ground, tears streaming down your face.

All these tapes...proof of the horrific, sadistic murders that the man you loved had committed.

The front door opening and closing made you jump...

You turned and came face to face with the man.

He was about to sign a greeting as he approached you but stopped when he saw your terrified, tear stained face.

He took in your expression for glancing down at the box of tapes, noticing the one you had thrown down and broken...how did you get those tapes? Of course, he knew what they were instantly.

He was going to find out who gave you these and he was going to make sure they regretted it.

“Jesse...please tell me these aren’t real...that, that isn’t you” you pleaded with him, even if you knew the truth now. He didn’t respond, just stared at the box of tapes. “They’re-they’re all yours?...all you?” you asked.

You let out a broken sob when he nodded. There was no point lying now, you knew, it was over.

How could the man you loved do these things? He had always be so wonderful, so perfect, if you didn’t have all this evidence, you wouldn’t have believed it.

“...are you going to hurt me?” you asked and he shook his head.

God, you wanted so badly to believe him but after seeing what he was capable of...you just didn’t know anymore.

“How could you do those things, Jesse?” this was the man you wanted to marry...but you didn’t know him at all.

He took a step towards you but you took one back. You were scared of him...and that was the last thing he ever wanted.

‘I’m not going to hurt you’ he signed. ‘...I’m sorry...’ he apologised because that’s all he could do. There was no explanation he could give you, no gift or gesture that would earn your forgiveness, there was nothing he could do to make this right. All he could do was give you a weak apologise.

“...you’re...I don’t know you, you’re not my Jesse...I...” he stepped towards you again but you took five steps back this time.

The images on those tapes flashed through your mind. Those women, the way he killed them...how could he ever do something like that and come home to you. To touch you, to love you. You were disgusted with him and yourself.

It must have been the adrenaline in your body but you finally took action, not bothering to grab your coat as you hurried past him and towards the front door.

You gasped when he caught your arm, looking up at him with fearful eyes. His grip was firm but he was true to his word, he wasn’t hurting you.

“I’m leaving, Jesse” you told him as firmly as you could, voice faltering.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Still holding you as he typed something.

He turned the screen to you so that you could read it.

‘NO POLICE’

What where you supposed to do. Whatever it took to get out of here.

So, you nodded.

He turned the phone back to himself, typing something new and showing it to you again.

‘I LOVE YOU’

You let out another sob and he released your arm.

You left the house, no knowing where exactly you were going. A friends house? The police station? You didn’t know.

All you did know was that more gifts kept arriving expect these were clothes, jewellery, just stacks of cash. Was Jesse apologising, trying to win you back, pay you off, buy your silence, or just making sure you’re alright? You didn’t know.

Obviously, you left Jesse but that didn’t mean that he had to like it. He still watched over you, made sure you had the money you needed to live a good life.

Jesse sincerely hoped you would keep your promise of not going to the police. If you didn’t, he could just let you go, keep you on your feet. But if you went to the police...he would have to deal with it one way or another.

Otis Driftwood

Otis had met you in a bar, it was that simple. The two of you hit it off like he had never done with somebody before. He never hid any part of himself (other than the crimes he’s committed) and you still seemed interested in him.

You knew that he and his family were...beyond odd, but you didn’t know that they hurt people. So you continued to give him the benefit of the doubt.

You dated. You loved him and he loved you.

You had gone to the Firefly residence and let yourself in like you usually did. You normally planned a time to meet with Otis but you decided that you just needed to see him now.

You called out to him but no response came, nobody was here but the door was unlocked...

You were just going to wait or come back later but then you heard something bang in the basement.

You had never been down there before, you never had a reason or desire too but if somebody was down there, maybe they could tell you when Otis would be back. Or maybe it was Otis!

So you headed down the stairs and into the basement.

“Oh my God...” you completely froze when you stepped into the room.

People, held in cages, were cowering together, bloody and beaten. They begged for mercy, for your help. But what you were staring at was Otis, covered in blood. He had turned to you, surprise on his face and knife in his hand.

Otis knew it was only a matter of time, the family didn’t hide their true nature very well. He just didn’t think it would be now, he wanted longer with you. Because he knew that as soon as you found out, you’d be gone.

You ran. You had that much sense.

You ran up the stairs, through the house, and out the front door, with Otis right behind you.

You always knew he was strange, had an interested in morbid things, but you never would have guessed sadistic killer. Who would just assume that?!

You never worried that he would hurt you, but now you did.

Once you got a few feet from the house, you had to come to a stop. Even if your whole body was telling you to keep running but you curled over and threw up.

Those poor people...all the gore in that basement...on Otis...what had he done and how many people had he done it too?

“Y/n-” Otis’ voice coming from behind you made you snap back up, turning to him but stepping backwards.

“Get away from me” you were terrified and disgusted, he could see it on your face.

“I would never hurt you. You know that” Otis assured you, while he stood there splattered in somebody else’s blood. It would have been comical to somebody with a fucked up sense of humour.

“...I don’t...” you shook your head, your answer quiet.

“’course you do. Have I ever hurt you before?” he asked but that didn’t matter anymore.

“You hurt those people!” you remined him.

Maybe if you knew the details of his other crimes, you wouldn’t have been able to snap at him so easily. You definitely would throw up again, that’s for sure.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Baby’s cheerful voice caught the attention of both of you. “Oh shit...they found out, didn’t they?” she asked, still smiling like nothing was wrong.

“Go inside, Baby” Otis ordered sternly.

“Aw don’t worry, hun. Otis ain’t gonna hurt ya, he loves ya!” Baby assured you.

“I’ve got to go...” you mumbled, turning and making your escape again.

“Are they going to talk, Otis?” Baby asked her brother, both of them knowing they can’t let you go to the police or anything.

“I have it handled” Otis huffed before following after you, making Baby scoff.

Well...you weren’t dead, but your relationship with the family was far from over. Otis couldn’t just let you go around running your mouth about them but he didn’t want to hurt you either.

Hopefully, the two of you can figure something out once you’ve calmed down...

#thomas hewitt x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #asa emory x reader #the collector x reader #jesse cromeans x reader #chromeskull x reader #otis driftwood x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #slashers #slasher #my writing

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komotionlessqueenmm · 3 years

Text

One man's trash, is another man's treasure.

(2-4)

Short story # 6

2,442 - Words

Fandom - House of Wax (2005)

Pairing - Bo Sinclair X Reader

Summary - The reader finds herself & her 4 month old son stranded in Ambrose. While Bo finds himself enamored with the woman, wanting nothing more than to protect and provide for the two of them.

Warnings - Some dark topics, talk of abusive relationships, eventual blood & death, eventual smut. (I'm not sure what else tbh)

Notes - Italics means the reader is singing.

Pt. 1 ~ Pt. 2 ~ Pt. 3 ~ Pt. 4

----

"You go relax in the living room while I call my brother, I'll only be a minute." Bo instructed as they walked into his house. "Okay." (Y/n) smiled as she cradled Von in her arms, having left his stroller on the porch. Bo walked into the kitchen, calling his brother to pick up (Y/n)'s jeep. While (Y/n) walked into the living room, idly scanning the pictures hanging on the walls. (Y/n) sat down on the couch with a content sigh, gently patting Von's butt in an attempt to keep the baby asleep. Von's soft breathing and the gentle patting of (Y/n)'s hand were the only sounds in the room, that is until Bo walked back into the room. "He should be here within the next hour, I'm gonna go change outta this suit real quick." Bo explained pointing behind him to the stairs, already tugging at his tie. "Okay." (Y/n) smiled with a nod of her head, turning her attention back to Von when Bo started walking upstairs.

A short five minutes passed before Bo came back down the stairs, changed from his suit, to a mechanics jumpsuit. "So can I ask? What was with the suit?" (Y/n) wondered aloud, as Bo walked into the living room, taking a seat in a recliner he began slipping on his boots. "I was at a funeral." Bo explained as he tied his laces. "Oh I'm sorry for your loss." (Y/n) gave her condolences. "Thank you." Bo smiled softly. "It's getting pretty late, is there somewhere in town I could stay?" (Y/n) asked as she looked out the window, the sun low in the sky. "You can stay here if you'd like." Bo offered. "Oh you're too kind, but I don't want to be a burden." (Y/n) genuinely hated feeling like a burden on people. "Nonsense I've got plenty of room, and the extra company would be nice." Bo insisted, making (Y/n) smile softly. "Alright... Would it be alright if I got a shower real quick? Sitting out in the suns got me all sweaty and gross." Bo chuckled alongside her, nodding his head. "Of course, I'll show ya to the spare bedroom." Bo rose from his chair, leading (Y/n) upstairs and to the right. "Here ya go, there's a small bathroom attached." He pointed to the bathroom door after escorting (Y/n) inside. "Thank you, I shouldn't be to long." (Y/n) smiled as she sat the diaper bag onto the small bed, gently laying Von down a moment later. "I'll wait for ya down in the living room." Bo hummed as he closed the door, leaving (Y/n) be.

When the warm water hit (Y/n)'s back she sighed in content, the sore muscles of her back relaxing under the heat. Allowing herself a moment to soak up the warmth, (Y/n) closed her eyes and hummed softly under her breath. As if with the flip of a switch however, (Y/n)'s eyes snapped open and she quickly set to work cleaning herself up. However just as she was rising off, Von began crying from the bedroom. In an instant (Y/n) cut off the water and wrapped a towel around her body, droplets of water still rolling down her legs as she exited the bathroom. "See there's mama." Bo cooed at Von, cradling the fussing baby in his arms. "I hope I didn't overstep my boundaries, I was just down the hall when he started crying, and I wanted to make sure he was okay." Bo explained as he stood from the bed, handing Von over to (Y/n). "No no it's alright, I appreciate it actually." (Y/n) shook her head with a small smile. "He's just fussy because he hasn't eaten yet, I didn't want to wake him earlier." (Y/n) sat on the edge of the bed, pulling down part of her towel to allow Von to feed. "Oh I understand completely, I get pretty grumpy when I'm hungry to." Bo joked turning his attention to the floor, not wanting to make (Y/n) uncomfortable by accidentally staring. "Don't we all." (Y/n) chuckled softly.

"I was getting this for the little guy when he started crying." Bo changed the subject, allowing himself a moment to distract himself. "Oh that's so cute!" (Y/n) gushed at the sight of the antic cradle Bo had brought into the room. "I almost forgot about it, it's an old family cradle, been passed down several generations." Bo explained as he laid a clean blanket inside it. "Thank you Bo, you've been so kind to me, I don't think I could thank you enough." (Y/n)'s eyes became a little glossy, a smile spread across her lips. "It's my pleasure, but it ain't nothing to cry over." Bo knelt in front of (Y/n) rubbing away the stray tear that escaped her eye. "Oh I know, it's such a silly thing to cry over. It's just the passed month has been so hard, and you and Lester have been so sweet to me. It's silly I know, but I can't help it." (Y/n) chuckled through her tears, sniffling softly. "You're all on your own aren't ya?" Bo asked with a small frown, the frown deepening when (Y/n) nodded her head. "Where's the father?" Bo asked. "It's kinda a long story." (Y/n) wiped away her tears with a bitter chuckle. "Is he dead, or a deadbeat?" Bo asked bluntly. "A deadbeat of the worst kind." (Y/n) sighed. "That's a shame." Bo shook his head, raising from his kneeled position. "I'll leave ya be." He muttered softly. "I'll be waiting in the living room when you're done up here." Bo added as he exited the room, leaving (Y/n) to finish feeding Von, and allowing her to change in some privacy.

Having changed into the sweats and a tank top, (Y/n) always kept in the diaper bag. (Y/n) carried Von downstairs, smiling at Bo when she entered the living room. "Ready to go back to the garage?" Bo asked as he stood from the couch. "We're as ready as we'll ever be." (Y/n) hummed, following Bo when he went to the front door. "(Y/n)." Bo called out to her as she strapped Von into the stroller. "Yes Bo?" She tilted her head a little, having turned her attention to him. "I'm sorry about asking about Von's father, that wasn't very polite." Bo rubbed the back of his neck, feeling guilty for bringing up such a touchy subject. "It's okay Bo, you were only curious." (Y/n) assured him with a smile. "I don't really mind talking about it, but if someone comes around asking about me, I'd really appreciate it if you forgot about me." She admitted feeling just at ease around Bo as she had around Lester. "He's that bad huh?" Bo wondered aloud with a frown. "Worse." (Y/n) swallowed thickly, dread pooling within her belly. "Well as long as you're here, I won't let anything happen to you." Bo promised, easing (Y/n)'s worry.

"Alrighty lets have a look." Bo mused as they entered the garage, popping the hood to the jeep. "Your brother didn't stick around huh?" (Y/n) stated the obvious as she looked around the garage. "He's not much of a people person, due to a birth defect he's suffering from." Bo explained as he worked. "Oh." (Y/n) felt a bit guilty. "Well he likes people, but people don't really like him much. So he avoids them." Bo shrugged casually. "People always fear what they don't understand." (Y/n) murmured without much thought, unknowingly peaking Bo's interest even more. "He'd like you." Bo mused with a small smile, despite not having the best relationship with his brother, Bo still cared for him. "You think so?" (Y/n) smiled at the thought. "Yeah, what's not to like?" Bo winked at her, chuckling when she ducked her head to hide her blush.

"Hold on..." Bo muttered under his breath, as he checked the oil. "I thought you said you changed the oil last week." Bo frowned in confusion. "I did." (Y/n) mirrored his confusion. "It's bone dry." Bo informed her, moving further under the hood to get a better look at the oil reserve. "I think I see the problem." Bo moved to grab a flashlight, looking to where he suspected the problem was. "What is it?" (Y/n) asked as she walked over to peer at the engine. "It looks like someone put a hole in the bottom of the reserve, the oil just leaked out over time." Bo explained, his assessment making (Y/n) worry again. "Trent my ex... It had to be him." (Y/n)'s voice cracked as the panic set in. "Hey hey hey don't worry about it, as long as you're here you're safe, I won't let him get to you." Bo promised as he wiped his hands with a shop rag, pulling (Y/n) into a comforting hug after he deemed his hands clean. "He tried to kill me Bo, when he found out I was pregnant he attacked me and tried to kill me." (Y/n) wept into his chest. "I won't let him near you." Bo growled protectively, holding her just a little tighter. "I've been running from him for the past month, I just know he's gonna try finding me." (Y/n) shook in Bo's arms, raked with fear. "He won't find you." Bo promised as he pulled her back to look into her eyes, wiping away her tears. "You are safe here." Bo emphasized each word, smiling at her softly when she stopped shaking. "Thank you." (Y/n) sniffled with a smile, leaning up she kissed Bo's cheek, then turned her attention back to Von, smiling down at the sight of him sleeping soundly. "How about we leave this until tomorrow morning?" Bo pointed to the jeep, a dopey grin on his face from the kiss. "Let's go eat some dinner and relax for a bit." He suggested casually. "That sounds like a good idea." (Y/n) nodded her head in agreement, giggling when her stomach grumbled at the mention of food.

"Let me help." (Y/n) insisted as she joined Bo in the kitchen. "I'd appreciate the help." Bo smiled as he gathered everything they'd need to cook a nice hardy meal. "Well it is the least I can do, after all you've done for me and Von." (Y/n) smiled as she set to work, the pair working alongside eachother with natural ease. "(Y/n)." Bo called out softly after a few minutes, smiling when (Y/n) hummed in response. "I just wanted to say... You're a real good mother." Bo admitted, making (Y/n) drop what she was holding. "You really mean that?" She asked with wide eyes. "Of course." Bo nodded his head, being perfectly honest with her. "Thank you, you don't know how much that means to me." (Y/n)'s eyes were bright with pure joy, making Bo's heart melt a little. They continued to work in a comfortable silence, nearly finishing their task before Bo struck up conversation again. "So what do you do for a living?" He asked casually. "I'm an author actually." (Y/n) mused. "Anything I might read?" Bo asked with genuine curiosity. "Only if you enjoy horror stories, I'm looking to be the next H. P. Lovecraft." (Y/n) beamed with pride, her words making Bo chuckle. "I think I'd enjoy reading your work." Bo admitted, making (Y/n) beam even brighter.

The following morning (Y/n) and Bo went back to the garage bright and early. "You don't have to sit around down here with me you know." Bo pointed out to (Y/n) who had perched herself upon the gas stations counter. "I know, but I thought you could use the company." (Y/n) mused as she rocked Von's stroller back and forth with her foot, her journal on her lap. "I'll admit the company is nice, but the view is even better." Bo flirted with a wink, making (Y/n) giggle softly. "I have to agree, the view is very nice." (Y/n) quipped right back with a cheeky grin, her words making Bo laugh.

Subconsciously as she wrote (Y/n) began humming a melody, which eventually led to her singing softly. "You are what you are. I don't matter to anyone. But Hollywood legends. Will never grow old. And all of what's hidden. Well, it will never grow cold." Bo stilled in what he was doing, focusing on (Y/n). "But I lost myself when I lost you. But I still got jazz. When I've got those blues. And I lost myself when I lost you. And I still get trashed, darling. When I hear your tunes." (Y/n) relaxed a little, singing a little louder. "But you are who you are. I won't change you for anything. For when you are crazy. I'll let you be bad. I'll never dare change thee. To what you are not." Bo moved to lean against the doorway leading into the gas station, watching (Y/n) with a pleasant grin. "But I lost myself when I lost you. But I still got jazz. When I've got those blues. I lost myself and I lost you too. And I still get trashed, baby. When I hear your tunes." (Y/n) continued writing away, almost in a daze. "I put the radio on. Hold you tight in my mind. Isn't strange that. You're not here with me. But I know the light's on in the television. Trying to transmit, can you hear me. Ground control to Major Tom. Can you hear me all night long. Ground control to Major Tom." Von stirred a little in his sleep, but remained asleep. "Well I lost myself when I lost you. But I still got jazz when I've got the blues. I lost myself and I lost you too. And I still get trashed, honey. When I hear your tunes." (Y/n) smiled to herself as she hummed the melody out. "Are you sure you don't sing professionally?" Bo asked when she finished humming. "I'm sure." (Y/n) chuckled, flattered by his words. "Maybe you should." He winked before turning his attention back to her car, his words making (Y/n)'s heart swoon.

----

Woof Bo is really getting out of character...

Oh well! That's the beauty of fanfiction.

Anyways part two is complete!

Let me know what you think. （＾_＾）

PS the song (Y/n) was singing is Terrence Loves You by Lana Del Rey.

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neonponders · 3 years

Text

Here’s part 1 and the soulmates comic that inspired all this.

I’d also like to thank the Harringrove community for giving me mutuals who enable the worst best part of me 💞 You’re all fantastic 💗

• • • • • • •

Steve’s teeth clenched as his shoulder blades hit the brick walls of the alley between the gymnasium and school building.

Their English class was only two doors down from an exit, and Billy Hargrove, of all people, gripped Steve’s jacket the moment he passed out of the classroom door, and hauled his ass outside.

Now Steve had a face full of California freckles that made the accompanying blue eyes look like tropical waters. Billy had been a menace ever since he got to this town, and all of Hawkins’ fields didn’t leave enough room for the both of them, apparently. Shoving Steve around during gym. Parking next to him like the noise of his frigging Camaro would eclipse the humble BMW’s existence.

Billy released him but stayed crowded in his space as he ordered, “Get a pen.”

“What?”

“A pen, Harrington. I know you have one.”

Yeah, I just failed a test with it, he thought bitterly, but he’d also been using it to talk to Billy Freaking Hargrove all morning. He pulled it out of his binder and bit the cap to push the end into it -

“OW. Don’t - ” Steve shoved him back a step, interrupting the zagged line Billy was scoring into his hand. Into Steve’s hand. “ - press that hard. Jesus Christ.”

He waved said hand in front of Billy’s face. “It’s real, all right? It’s me. It’s me! What? Did you expect to be taller than me or some - ”

Steve’s head knocked the brick this time when Billy shoved him back, fisting his shirt to the point of stretching the fibers

And kissing Steve’s mouth like he had the water in a desert.

Everything Billy did was aggressive, so he supposed this shouldn’t be much of a surprise, but

But the stubble scraping against Steve’s chin sent sparks launching down his spine. Soft lips with a little edge of teeth, and Billy’s warmth radiating through their shirts into Steve’s chest...

He tried to lean forward, to adjust the kiss, to give his neck some space, but Billy caged him in. Steve’s nose pressed into his cheek and his hands found Billy’s denim jacket to get his own grip and shoved Billy back by his own kiss.

But the guy who doodled on his body, an artist who couldn’t eat cake and liked authors who waxed romantically - Steve’s special person - was a slab of muscle dressed in denim and leather. He held onto Steve’s front while his other hand framed his jaw and man-handled him back into place.

“Billy,” Steve tried. He stopped just shy of Steve’s mouth, like he intended to claim Steve’s oxygen as well as his space. “Gimme some space. There are bricks back here.”

Steve registers Billy’s pretty, long, long and pretty lashes moving before he sees the expression behind them. The look Billy has. Like he’s deciding between one type of aggression and another.

“You’ve been in my skin for years. You can handle some bricks.”

He starts kissing Steve again, and for all the good he’s giving, he gets spittle and laughter in return. When he finally retreats back to those millimeters of space, Steve giggles, “You’re so conceited, I swear to god.”

“I’m the same person I’ve always been.”

“I thought you were so sweet. Always drawing me things.”

“I have my moods.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Steve laughed breathily and pivoted his face before Billy could kiss him again. He wedged his jaw beside Billy’s neck and held onto the back of his jacket as he made the guy carry his weight.

“What are you doing?”

“Hugging you.”

“I always knew you were a sap.”

Steve smiled a little even if Billy did not see it. He leaned his head into Billy’s, feeling the soft pillow of his hair, the curve of his ear. “I didn’t think I’d ever meet you. I’m glad I did.”

Like Billy’s marking on his skin, Steve listened to his silence but felt his fingertips drawing on his backside.

And if Steve expected Billy to relax or be nicer to him

He was dead wrong.

Billy got worse.

Steve had been told more than once that he was needy, touchy-feely, thrived on attention, but Billy was something else. Steve woke up with a full rose drawn on his forehead. He was almost late to school from washing it off. Then Billy stole his lunch. Outright took Steve’s tray off the table and went who-knows-where; Steve had to get back to world geography class or he’d fail the class for too many skips.

Then came gym. Word had clearly spread that Steve and Billy were spoken for, and Steve had never witnessed teenage boys shower faster in his life. Steve glanced around, just now moving his soap bar over his arm while Billy smirked fondly at him from under his own nozzle. "For no reason, have you ever done anything sexy in public?"

"Ate a girl out during a homecoming game."

That knocked Billy's features down a notch, and Steve laughed, "I'm not blowing you in these disgusting bathrooms."

Billy scoffed and twisted his water off. "I guess it should've landed that you were a prude when you had to be somewhere without markings on your body."

Steve flicked his eyes at the ceiling, because Billy was hot - a fact he already knew, but now he had hours of experience writing all over that rippling skin. And Billy’s hair curled really pretty when it was wet.

Steve liked to practice decency, okay.

He did let his gaze drift and fall to land on him, though, when he replied, “I have standards. High ones. Maybe stop complaining and consider yourself fortunate.”

Billy lingered for a while longer, just absorbing that before strolling out of the communal shower.

Billy definitely got worse.

Grinding pens into his hand until Steve threw himself out of bed in the middle of the night to turn his light on and read: Come outside. Pool.

And yeah, Steve marched his ass downstairs in his slippers and robe because it was his own damn house and he liked soft things. And because he genuinely didn’t know if Billy would or would not throw a rock at his window if he didn’t get dressed fast enough.

Billy had already found the control panel and turned the pool lights on. He took lethargic steps around the water as Steve slid the glass door closed and crossed his arms. “You know, I’m all for staying up late, but not for my sleep being interrupted.”

Billy ignored that to kneel down and wave a hand through the water. “Didn’t know you had a pool.”

Steve shrugged. “I’ve got a bed too. You wanna use it?”

Billy laughed and stood back up - to start removing his clothes. “I want to go swimming first.”

Steve exhaled tiredly and let his face fall into his hands. “Billy, why am I out here?”

He got his answer in the form of Billy gripping the sash around his waist. He didn’t undo it, but pulled so Steve’s hips lurched forward. “What’s under this?”

“My tired ass that wants to sleep so I can keep up with the new kid in Hawkins.”

Billy chuckled and slipped his hand inside the folds. Steve bowed a little against the cooler hand wandering his bare skin. Cradling his naked waist. “What’s he like?”

“The wrong kind of pain in my ass.”

He’d caught Billy off guard with that one. Billy coughed a laugh and his chuckles dwindled as he let his perusal of Steve’s body loosen the robe. Then he pulled Steve to him so his mouth could press slow kisses over the slope of his shoulder. Steve’s head fell back when those lips found the tiny moles on his throat.

Steve’s arms encompassed him and he felt the familiar, soft press of Billy’s ear against his cheek. “I’m tired.”

“I want to swim.”

“You’re already naked. Go ahead.”

“You can’t think you’re going back inside without getting wet.”

“And you’re not getting in bed with me before rinsing in the shower. We’re both high maintenance.”

Steve swam in the pool.

Billy wore his robe and slippers into the house.

They showered together and, to Steve’s delight, Billy snuggled in close without putting his damp hair on Steve’s chest. The latter fell asleep with a large arm over his diaphragm and ocean breaths in his ear.

Steve woke up to the wet sensation of Billy drawing on his chest with his markers. Instead of opening his eyes, Steve mumbled, “If you’re drawing more penises...”

Billy hummed with mirth. “Just some unicorns humping each other.”

Steve earned a yelp when he reared up and tackled Billy to the bed. He kissed him silly and tasted his soul mate’s skin in his own bed. He made Billy’s hair a fluffy nightmare by the time he was through, and licked and sucked all of his muscles into jelly before he went to the bathroom to relieve himself...

Two birds under his collarbones framed a script spanning over his chest.

I can’t say sweet things. But you are beautiful.

#harringrove #neonponders #ficlet #soul mates!au #i'm sorry for the lack of detail and plot #it's a wonder it got this long lol #but leave it to steve to blow billy's brains out #and not notice what is on billy's chest to gauge what he'd find in the mirror later #thank you so much for everyone's super sweet reception of part 1!

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anaiswriterr · 4 years

Text

Black Magic

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Rating: T

Warning: This story teaches you never ever, ever, place a spell especially an attraction spell or love spell without consent! Please never do this, this shouldn’t be played with unless with full consent, and if you know what you’re doing: obsession, puppy love at first, grows into unwanted attention, possessiveness.

Authors Note: This is my least favorite fic to write, I’m so sorry to those that were looking forward to it.

Synopsis: “Are you sure this.. spell will make him like me? Find me attractive?” Y/N questioned her witchy friend. Eyeing the wax melted jar in her hand suspiciously, she just wanted his attention nothing too serious. “If you doubt it won’t work. I promise, this spell is going to make him want you forever.”

- black magic - screamtober part five -

•

Y/N rests her cheek in her palm, eyes wondering on the boy who sat in front of her in class. If only he’d pay attention to her; she sighs and sits back in her seat. Ignoring his closed dense mind - how could he not see it! Everyone knew! Hell, even Mr. Aizawa knew and she bet all the teachers knew too of her growing feelings towards the angry spiked explosive quirk user.

All except him.

“Idiot.” She mutters beneath her breath continuing on with her notes, why couldn’t he tell? Why couldn’t he just pay attention to her?

***

“Just tell him already!” Mina chimes in, taking her bag of chips out of her bag. “What’s the worst thing he’ll do? Say no? Fine, then you move on!“ Mina crunches on the handful of chips she unconsciously shoved into her mouth, moaning as the nacho cheese flavors erupted in her mouth. Leaving Y/N to roll her eyes in annoyance, “I’m not as close to Bakugou as you are, I just want him to notice me.” Y/N sighs, pulling her phone out from her back pocket in hopes to find a distraction from her over whelming feelings for the temperamental boy.

Mina chuckles, “Well if you really want his attention why don’t you come over tonight for a sleep over, my aunts in town and she studies witch craft. She could probably help you get his attention.”

Y/N’s eyes widen in response as she excitedly turned her attention towards her friend, watching Mina intently with a serious gaze. “Please tell me your being serious!” Y/N exclaims.

“Well yeah, tonight's Halloween so it’ll definitely set the mood.”

Y/N’s chest swells with hope, the fact that the attention of her crush could quickly be averted towards her. She didn’t need anything special, nothing to fancy, but instead a push towards the right direction. “I’ll see you tonight then!” Y/N exclaims rushing towards her home and unlocking the front gate, “Okay lovely!” Mina grins waving goodbye to her friend for the afternoon.

With the sun setting and children rushing home to put on their costumes, Y/N’s plan fell into full swing. Already packed her night bag with extra clothes, a brush, tooth brush, and other essentials she rushed to Mina’s house. Dodging the trick or treaters at her front door allowing her mother to pass out candy to the kids.

“Stay safe, honey!” Her mother called out.

But luckily for Y/N, Mina was only over three blocks down.

Clutching onto her backpack and speed walking her way through the side walk, Y/N eventually reaches her friends house and presses the doorbell.

The door swings open revealing the pink girl in her pajamas, a wicked grin tainted her lips. “Let get this party started!”

***

Y/N met Mina’s aunt plenty of times, but she never knew that her aunt practiced the craft - though her aunt was still young only in her early twenties and still in college. Menmora nevertheless practiced the craft with caution, reminding Y/N of the consequences that could come from this request.

“Please! Menmora, I just need something, anything that’ll get his attention!” Y/N begged, nearly on her knees in the living room as Mina ate a slice of pizza. Menmora flipped her pink hair over her shoulder and continued to file her nails. “Y/N I love you, but I don’t know if I should do this for you. It’s dangerous.. the consequences. Sometimes you can’t even break up with the guy. They get super obsessed in some cases. Why don’t you just talk to him, ooo how about buy some new perfume. It’s proven that the scent of vanilla can spike male pheromones into being more attracted-”

Menmora is interrupted by the puppy eyes Y/N makes, her lips quivering as she pleaded. “You really like this kid don’t you?” Menmora sighs.

“You have absolutely no idea.”

“Fine, Mina go get my jars, cinnamon and honey from the cabinet. The paper and pen are in the same one as well, make sure to get the blue, pink, and red ones.” Menmora orders throwing her nail file towards the coffee table, Y/N lets out a small giggle in excitement.

“It’s a full moon tonight, go get the candles.” She’s told, Y/N pushes herself up from the ground and rushes towards the dining room. Grabbing all the pink and white candles, any that were in her line of sight and rushes back to the living room where Mina had placed all the materials on the now cleaned space.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t know, about this anymore.. what if something goes wrong?”

Y/N whips her head around, “It might not even work, but it’s definitely worth a try.”

“Alright then, let light these candles.”

***

A pink candle slowly melts onto a small jar, the wax drips off the sides, Y/N has no idea what’s going but the flicker of the surrounding lit candles captures her gaze. Suddenly slammed with the feeling of guilt and doubt, who was she kidding. “Bakugou won’t ever see me as one of his equals.. just some dumb extra.”

She’s pulled back from her thoughts when the jar is thrusted into her face, “Are you sure this.. spell will make him like me? Find me attractive?” Y/N questioned, suddenly suspicious of the “magic jar”. Eyeing the wax melted jar in her hand hoping this would work, she just wanted his attention. “If you doubt in the craft then it won’t work. I promise, this spell is going to make him want you forever.”

Y/N didn’t need a forever, and perhaps those words manifested itself into existents. It was a silly idea, she thought. How desperate do you have to be, how stupid do you have to be. That weekend, after her sleepover with Mina she had forgotten all about the spell.

It didn’t matter to anymore, she was just an extra in his story. A background character to his epic hero story..

But nonetheless a hero never gives up!

So instead of sulking around all day like she initially planned the day prior, Y/N woke up early that Monday morning, did her hair, took a shower, and sprayed on her best smelling perfume, and packed her UA practice uniform and marched outside the house.

Meeting up with Mina.

“You look extra chirpy today.” Mina grins, fixing her left sock.

“I feel amazing today, I look good, I smell good. I’m absolutely great.” Y/N claims, straightening out her skirt. Mina arches a brow and giggles, “Alright missus feel good, how are you feeling about the spell stuff.”

Y/N shrugs, adjusting the straps of her backpack to loosen over her shoulders.

“Whatever happens, happens. And besides, is magic even real?”

“I don’t know, we live in a world where 80% of population has a quirk. Before then nobody ever even thought about having superpowers. I’ve heard witchcraft is real, though.”

“You’re right about that,” Y/N chuckles, “The world we live in is kinda weird.”

The two teens laugh, continuing their way down the sidewalk catching the first subway train to UA High hoping to arrive early.

And of course the two race to the first available seats there were - which weren’t many to begin with anyways. Y/N sat patiently awaiting their stop, rising up to exit when it was finally time to get off. Nearly forgetting to wake Mina’s sleeping form, she shuddered at the memory of Mina chasing her around the neighborhood when she first forgot about her friend.

She dragged the tired pinkette by the blouse and up the stairs, Y/N groans at the sudden change in lighting, covering her eyes with her right hand. Using her left hand to drag Mina. “Eager to see Bakugou, I see.” Mina teases causing Y/N to simply roll her eyes, “If he’d pay attention to me today.”

“Well you never know, today might be your lucky day.”

“I hope.”

***

“Okay class, today we’re going to be learning..”

Mr. Aizawa’s words drown out in Y/N’s mind as she continued to stare at the blonde in front of her, admiring his spiky locks and the way he tapped his pencil against his notebook.

“Y/N are you pay attention?” Mr. Aizawa asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Y-Yes, sorry.”

Aizawa nods and continues on with his lesson.

Y/N sighs, grabbing her pencil to take notes, jotting down the common hero do’s and don’t. Something Y/N assumed he put together the night before.

Her attention is suddenly caught by a small note thrown onto her desk from the boy in front of her, ‘That’s odd Bakugou never passes notes..’

The square note obviously ripped from the spare sheets of paper, she’s hesitant to open the note, terrified of the embarrassment that would come soaring over Y/N if it wasn’t meant for her. But the hard gaze Bakugou sent her way, mouthing out the words, “Open it, damn it.” She quickly fiddles her fingers over the note, scrambling to open it under her desk.

What’s your quirk?

Her heart is pounding as she quickly writes her quirk on the sheet of paper, passing it towards him. Ignoring the slight pain her heart felt knowing that he didn’t pay attention to her quirks power either. What kinda of question is that?

Weather, why?

He passes another back just as quick.

I don’t know, I saw you in the games the other month.

So he did notice her, Y/N shakes the thought focusing on the task at hand. He did pay attention to her.

It’s a meteorology quirk, I can manifest any season and forecast.

Y/N watches as Bakugou, stares at the square for a while. Nearly impressed with her quirk. He didn’t pass another note back until the end of class when he whipped his head around, and threw another square at her desk.

“That’s a nice quirk.”

They were simple words, four words to be exact. Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary yet for Y/N. It was special, and that note sat in her book bag for the rest of week before finding itself a spot on her desk.

Slowly, gradually the two began to speak.

Then later she found herself sitting with his group and Mina during lunch, which later progressed with him tutoring Y/N after school.

Y/N sighed in relief when he began to finally pay attention, showing just slight caring from time to time. She smiled to herself in bed, maybe Mina’s aunt really did help. Nevertheless, she was happy with the attention of her crush.

Nothing came out of their friendship that year, instead Y/N focused on getting closer to the spiky explosive quirk user. She’d normally watch movies with the group in the afternoons when they all initially first moved into the dorms.

Sero would casually tease the two from time to time explaining how they looked so much like a couple beside one another. Earning a projectile pillow thrown towards his face from the blonde himself, muttering to himself in the process.

***

Bakugou asked Y/N out on an official date just before their second year, who she of course said yes too. Though Y/N quickly found out the.. problems dating Katsuki. He was possessive, irrational in some aspects, and over all over bearing.

But the problem wasn’t Bakugou himself during the relationship.. but as the two grew up Y/N soon realized her crush on Bakugou was just that.

A crush..

***

Years had passed..

And Y/N and Katsuki had moved in with each other in their early years of being pro heroes.

Y/N’s chest swells with guilt, and her voice is caught in a worried toned. She picks at her fingers, attempting to put the pieces together in her mind on the best way to break things off with Katsuki. She’s caught pacing her living room area, and his vermilion eyes squint at her shadowy frame.

“What are you doing up so early?”

His asks in confusion; looking out into the city through their window. Y/N didn’t even noticed she still hasn’t gone to bed, he arches a brow - stepping towards her with his hands deep in his pockets.

“Something wro-”

“I think we should break up.”

It’s quiet.

Almost to quiet.

And for a second Y/N feels like she can breathe, a word of apologizes filled her brain but she decides against it. She wasn’t sorry, they were both twenty four. The relationship had come to an end, there was no more time to think.

“Look, Katsuki, I’m so sorry but we can’t keep going. Thank you for being so amazing to me throughout the years, and being all my firsts-”

“We’re not breaking up.”

“W-What?”

“I said, we are not breaking up.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest. His large strides make it towards her trembling frame. “Katsuki..”

He reaches out towards her, roughly grabbing her but the chin and pulling her in close. Causing Y/N to squeal as she’s tugged towards him.

“You’re not leaving me..” He clenches his teeth, “You’re not leaving this house, and if you do decide to leave..”

Y/N’s blood grows cold, somewhere in his eyes those red fiery orbs flare in anger, something Y/N doesn’t recognize but she suddenly remembers that night on Halloween when she was just sixteen.

“They become super obsessed..”

“Sometimes you can’t even break up with them..”

A mistake.. she made.. she realizes there is no turning back.. she’s stuck with him forever.

“I’ll go everywhere you go..”

TAGLIST: @pavlovs-titties @explosivefireworks @utopiamiroh @hikaru-mikazuki @strangethingsatthecirclek @myheroesaretired @clever-username96 dumbthingsuwusblog

Next: Todoroki x Reader - Tonight, you belong to me

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #mha #mha fluff #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha angst #bnha smut #mha smut #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo headcanons #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #mha yandere #bakugou yandere x reader #bakugou headcanons

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spaceskam · 3 years

Text

retrouvailles

Summary: Kyle and Michael pick Alex up at the airport.

Tags: reunions, post season 2, fluff, POV Kyle Valenti

for @caitlesshea !! happy birthday, I hope you enjoy it!

ao3

“What if I set off a sensor or something?”

Kyle stopped, pulling Michael to a stop with a firm grip on his arm. Michael looked at him with wide eyes as if he didn’t understand why he stopped him.

“Do you have something on you that’ll set off a sensor?” Kyle asked.

“No, but what if, like, my organs do it?” Michael said. Kyle let go of him and sighed.

“Isobel has been on a plane before and she was fine,” Kyle said, walking through the entrance of the airport, “Besides, I’ve done a lot of tests and as far as I can tell, none of you have any metal that’ll set off metal detectors in your blood. You’re fine.”

“Okay,” Michael said, taking a deep breath before following.

They walked further into the building, Michael trailing him and very clearly uncomfortable. Which. Fair. The only reason Kyle was even here was because Michael was very clearly uncomfortable with this whole thing trip. Kyle was just kind enough to be his friend through it‒and also because Alex asked him to.

Twenty-eight days ago, Alex had to leave for some special secret military thing that he couldn’t talk about for special secret military reasons, but he promised it wasn’t a full deployment. It was just a short, month long trip because he was needed at the US embassy in Qatar. No explanation further than that, but, from Kyle’s research, it didn’t seem to be the worst place to travel, so he tried not to stress. Maybe he was training someone. Or something.

That didn’t stop Michael from being an absolutely hellish person to be around since Alex was gone. They’d apparently just got on good terms, a romantic prelude of sorts, when Alex found out he had to go and politely asked Kyle to keep an eye on Michael. They’d been speaking and Michael was staying sober and busy, but Michael was keeping busy by annoying the shit out of everyone else. Kyle was thankful Michael would have someone else to call at 3AM when he had some sort of scientific breakthrough and needed someone stat. Liz had started turning her phone off, but Kyle felt too guilty to do so.

“How many people a year go missing in airports?” Michael asked as they headed towards the waiting area. They didn’t have to go through any metal detectors to wait out here and so that seemed like the safest place to be, all things considered.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying, I feel like a prime target here. There’s so many fucking cops and military people. How many people do you think go missing from airports that aren’t even reported because they’re just kidnapped by the cops and the military?” Michael asked. Kyle closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Your boyfriend is in the military and your brother is a cop,” Kyle said slowly.

“Yeah, exactly how I know how fucked up it can be. And I’m‒you know. They could have heat sensors on me and know, ” Michael said. Kyle resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew Michael was just exaggerating as a way to release actual tension. He was nervous. But Alex was almost here and he was going to take over soon enough.

“It’s fine. Anyone tries to take you and Alex will literally kill them, just relax,” Kyle said. Michael furrowed his eyebrows and frowned like he was annoyed that he wasn’t being indulged which, to Kyle, meant Alex had been doing a great job at talking to him despite the miles between them.

Michael tapped his foot as they sat and watched the screen that displayed projected landing and take off times. Alex’s was on time, thankfully, and he should be landing any minute. Then Kyle wouldn’t have to babysit anymore.

“This is the sixth time Alex has come home and this is the first time I’m here to meet him at the airport,” Michael said. Kyle blinked and looked over at him, almost shocked with the honesty. More than almost. That being said, he kept his mouth shut and listened. “That’s a lot of times, you know?”

“I mean, yeah, but you’re here now. You guys were at a different place then,” Kyle tried. Michael took a deep breath and looked up. “Look, you’re just stressing yourself out because you’re nervous.”

“I don’t think I should’ve come. I don’t think he wants me here.”

“What? How the hell did you draw that conclusion?” Kyle asked, trying not to be too harsh about it. If there was one thing he learned from Michael and Alex, it’s that they were both fucking impossible. “Didn’t he say he wanted you here?”

“No,” Michael said, “He said I could come if I wanted, but no pressure. Sounds like he doesn’t want me here.”

Kyle’s eyes drifted to the monitor and saw Alex’s flight had turned green to announce that it’d landed. He just had to hold Michael out for a few more minutes and then Alex could do whatever Alex did to de-escalate his brain.

“I think he does want you here and he’s just so busy feeling the exact way you’re feeling to tell you that,” Kyle pointed out. Michael shrugged and stared at the screen that displayed all the plane landing times. His hands tightened where they rested over his knees. “Look, Alex is getting better with telling you what he wants, but no one is perfect and no one can heal super fast. He wants you here. It’s been a long time.”

“He’s been gone longer.”

“Yeah, he has. But something tells me this time is a little different,” Kyle said.

That something was Alex himself who Kyle imagined to be spinning around in an office chair as he waxed poetic about how good things were going between them. Better than ever before, namely because they were actually speaking while he was gone and they’d gotten a proper goodbye instead of Alex fleeing into the night while he was asleep. They had spoken about how, when Alex got back, they were going to start dating. They were going to be the annoying couple that is concerningly attached at the hip.

And, honestly, Kyle couldn’t fucking wait.

“What if he’s changed his mind?” Michael wondered.

“Then, knowing Alex, he’ll be honest and tell you to your face.”

Michael, groaning, sunk into the chair even further. Kyle rolled his eyes and reached over to pat him on the shoulder. He knew it was just pent up emotions. Alex would be walking out any moment now and all of his fears would be gone. He almost felt bad that Alex was by himself because he was probably going through the same mini freak out.

One day, hopefully, there wouldn’t be any hesitancy and he’d get to gag freely as they excitedly mauled each other in the middle of an airport. One day.

Time passed slowly as they waited for Alex to appear. Occasionally, Michael would say something off the wall, just to get some sort of reaction or response, and Kyle would entertain him and tug him back to reality. All things considered, this was the same version of him that called people at ridiculous times of day and night, just a little more anxiety-induced (as if that version wasn’t already anxiety-induced). Nothing Kyle couldn’t handle.

Something Alex would probably enjoy handling.

They had lapsed into silence for only a few seconds whenever a throat was cleared behind them. Kyle very casually looked over his shoulder while Michael quickly jumped up and turned to face him as if he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Kyle almost rolled his eyes, but he was too busy being thankful that Alex was stood there.

He looked tired, but he was in civvies and had his bag already and his hair was starting to grow out a bit again. His eyes were trained on Michael, clearly waiting with baited breath to see what to do now that they were face to face again after a month apart. Kyle would’ve felt like he was intruding if the situation was any different. But they were still figuring it out and they were both a little anxious and they definitely needed some kind of crutch. Kyle was happy to be it.

“Hey,” Kyle said, speaking first.

“Hi,” Alex said, glancing over at Kyle and giving him a nod with a smile before looking back to Michael.

“Hey,” Michael jumped in, his fists clenching and unclenching like he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands before deciding to shove them in his pocket because he had nothing better to do. “Um, how was your flight?”

“Fine. Long. Had a layover in Dallas, lasted too long. Got coffee though,” Alex said, shrugging and smiling at him, “How was the ride here? Where’d you guys park?”

“Not too far,” Michael said quickly, “Waited to get an up close parking spot so you didn’t have to walk too far. I figured it’d be uncomfortable since you’ve had your prosthetic on the whole flight and stuff.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Alex said.

“Good to see you back,” Kyle said to spark more conversation. As soon as they just got a good hug out, they could just go to the car and leave and then Michael could drop them off at Alex’s house and they could do whatever they did in private with Kyle having done his job.

“Yeah, it’s good to be back. I like the work, it’s just challenging enough, but it’s good to be, uh, home, I guess,” Alex told him, though the word sounded a bit unsure as if he had a different word in mind.

“I bet.”

“Hey, um, I watered your plants,” Michael jumped in, still looking a little out of sorts. Alex smiled wider. “None of them died.”

“Thank you,” Alex said sincerely. Michael smiled.

Then they just stood there awkwardly like two teenagers before a dance. Kyle felt like he was supposed to shove them together to take pictures. Instead of doing that, he kicked Michael’s shin and gave him a look whenever Michael turned his head to him with a glare. His jaw clenched and he took a deep breath before looking back at Alex.

“I missed you,” Michael said slowly as if it was rehearsed and practiced. Kyle had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as he looked away, giving them some semblance of privacy. “Like. A lot.”

“I missed you too,” Alex said, “And I was thinking that maybe we could‒”

And then Alex’s voice was muffled and, when Kyle looked over, they were very occupied with each other’s lips. Kyle huffed a laugh and pushed himself onto his feet and decided saying ‘ finally’ would ruin the mood.

“I’ll wait at the car, don’t stay too long or you might get security called on you,” he told them. Alex pulled out of the kiss long enough to laugh. His hands gripped Michael’s biceps and he squeezed.

“Come on, let’s just go home so we don’t have to stop again,” Alex said. Kyle scrunched up his nose, but he decided not to say anything more.

The drive home was pretty casual. Michael drove (for an alien, he was way too susceptible to car sickness) and Kyle rendered the passenger seat to Alex who shared the stories he could from his time in Qatar. He had developed a software for their embassay’s security a few years prior and they needed some updates as well as training their IT team how to work the updates, he’d said, and it gave him an opportunity to freshen up his Arabic. He’d spent most of his days at a computer.

If Michael and Alex held hands the whole time and bounced back and forth between who’s lap they belonged to, Kyle said nothing.

When they got to Alex’s, Kyle gave him a hug and they promised to go get lunch the next day. Then he gave Michael a nod before taking back the driver’s seat of his own damn car and started heading home, a smile finding his lips as he thought about it. Alex was happy. And not only that, but he and Michael were on good terms. Which was good.

Of course, he’d never admit it, but he kind of liked hanging out and working with the two of them.

It wasn’t until he got home, though, that he realized he had a text.

Michael Guerin: Thanks. You’re not as bad as you could be.

Kyle snorted and dropped his phone on the couch as he headed to the kitchen.

He was so glad Alex was back.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #kyle valenti #roswell new mexico #my fic #HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYY

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

Text

Becky's debut novel (Sugar Sugar fic)

A/N: So, @thelastsock gave me such a great idea: a snippet of Becky's book. So I have a snippet here, including a front cover, back cover and a little dedication page (because I am extra like that 😂😂, what else do you expect from me). Hope you like it xoxo

Chapter 1

YOU ARE NOT WELCOME.

Those are the exact words that greet me when I walk up our porch to our front door. Let’s just say that my mom has a special way of welcoming her quests. I step over the slightly offensive doormat to get inside. Not a lot of people would expect this kind of welcome from the mayor, but then again: no one expected her to win the elections in our town Starfall Fields in the first way.

Not to be mean, but even I never believed in my mom and not for a second did I think she had any chance of winning. Mom has been quite the controversy the second she moved into town. How on earth would she be able to be the mayor?

Weirdly enough, she hasn’t made a complete fool out of herself in these two months she has been mayor. Actually, she’s been doing quite well. It’s just that her housekeeping skills have been lower than low.

I open the refrigerator and scrunch up my nose when I notice there is barely anything edible in here. Great.

I grab my phone and send my mom a text.

Josie: You need to do groceries

Mom: Do it yourself, you lazy bitch

Mom: Still love you though 😘

I chuckle as I read her text. She’s quite something, my mom, and if we don’t call each other bitch at least once a day, there’s something up and we should worry.

People might find it odd that we call one another bitch, but it’s just our way of showing our affection towards the other.

Somehow I find some left over yogurt that isn’t expired already. I peel a banana (to only throw half of it away, because it’s brown and squishy, therefore absolutely repulsive) and cut it into slices. I drizzle some maple syrup on top of it and want to add some raisins, but when I open the jar, I find out there is only one raisin left in it.

‘Mom,’ I whine, though she can’t hear me. ‘Really?’ This is just absolutely fantastic. After a long day at school, a girl can barely enjoy a nice little afternoon snack. I grab my bowl and walk over to the dining table. My butt barely touched the soft seating of the chair, when my best friend Andy FaceTimes me. I place the phone against the fruit bowl before I press answer. ‘What do you want?’ I ask him. ‘You literally saw me half an hour ago.’

He smiles, two dimples appearing in his full cheeks. ‘You know I can’t get enough of you, sugar.’

Andy and I have been best friends since I can remember, but that is mostly because we’ve been in the same class the moment we both stepped foot into kindergarten and we’re neighbors. We’re literally the two houses in a radius of around half a mile (yes, we took the time to measure it) and he isn’t the worst guy to hang around with.

Okay, he is the only one that doesn’t make me that angry, I have to fight the urge to claw his eyes out. I’m not gonna beat around the bush: I love hanging out with him.

While we see each other the moment we step out of our houses to go to school, share every class of the day with one another and we walk from school back to our houses, it’s hard to function without the other one. Therefore, we usually FaceTime the second we can after separating.

We’re quite the symbiotic pair.

‘Spit it out, Andy. What do you want?’ I ask.

‘I was wondering what your plans are,’ Andy says. ‘Mainly for tonight.’

I can’t help but chuckle. ‘There was a plan of me hanging on the couch, watching a movie with my best friend while we eat junk food, but your voice is telling me that you have something else in mind for the two of us.’

He nods. ‘I was thinking about you and I doing some FindUrPricing tonight.’

‘FindUrPricing is not a word, you idiot.’

‘I don’t care, miss Doyle,’ he retorts with a sassy undertone. He shakes his head, gestures I have to wait (like I’m going anywhere) and comes back into frame, this time with a tablet in his hands. ‘I have like five of these things, so what do you say? Want to bury them tonight, while we try to find something cool for it in return?’

Andy has this obsession with solving puzzles in newspapers like the old soul he is and since he is quite good and really fast, he has won multiple prizes, including multiple tablets.

‘Only if I find a diamond ring,’ I answer with my mouth full of yogurt.

‘Yeah, that’s attractive. You’ll find yourself a boyfriend in no time with those manners.’

I show him the finger. ‘I don’t need etiquette lessons from you,’ I say.

Andy sticks out his tongue. ‘Are you coming with me tonight?’ he asks me. ‘You know I need you.’

I chuckle. Andy is a disaster when it comes to being in the dark, but since FindUrPrice is just more fun at night, I have become his personal guard. ‘Okay, okay, but only if I can sleep at your place tonight. I have no idea what time my mom will be back from work.’

Andy’s parents are going to the opera’s tonight and afterwards, they’re staying in a hotel near the big city. Normally, they aren’t the type of people to go to the opera’s, but when their son wins tickets, including a stay in one of the most luxurious hotels in the area, who are they to say no?

Since I have no idea what time my mom manages to pull herself from city hall (to say she is a workaholic is an understatement), I’d rather sleep at Andy’s, then telling her we’ve been wandering on the street late at night.

Especially on a school night.

Sure, my mom knows about FindUrPrice, but she forbade me to ever do it late at night, because “you never know what can happen”. I personally think it’s not that big of a deal, since Starfall Fields is boring as hell and absolutely harmless, but my mother wouldn’t be my mother if she didn’t envision my death.

FindUrPrice is an app for the younger folks in our city and the few around. The organization hid a few gifts and presents and whenever you follow the leads and find something, you have to place something nice in return. It’s cute and me and Andy do it from time to time.

‘You’re coming over now?’ Andy asks.

‘To help you do your laundry?’ I ask, nodding towards the screen, mainly towards the enormous pile of clothes on his bed. ‘Didn’t think so. See you in a few hours, Andy.’

‘Please,’ he begs, right at the same time as I hear his mom in the background yelling for him. ‘Yes, wait a minute!’ he yells. ‘Can I live with you? I feel like your mother never pushes you to do chores around the house.’

‘That’s because I do them voluntarily. If mom doesn’t do laundry, no one does it. If mom doesn’t clean the toilet, no one does it. Believe me, with a mom who all of the sudden turns a bit blind when it comes house chores, there is more to do here than there is at your place. Don’t you dare whine about it, Andrew Carter.’

We hang up and I grab a magazine from the table, reading through some of the articles. How to painlessly bikini wax yourself, how to get rid of strawberry legs, how to get yourself a man in a week.

Geez, mom, why do you read this?

No wait, better question: mom, why haven’t you gotten yourself a man in a week? This issue is three months old.

My phone rings again and without looking I answer, since I know exactly who is calling me. ‘Andy, I’m not helping you with your laundry,’ I say. ‘Shirts, sweaters and other items for your upper body go on a hanger and the rest with clothespins on a drying rack. How many times do I have to tell you that?’

‘Thank you for this wise, yet unnecessary lesson in laundry,’ mom says and I can hear her smile in her voice. ‘But laundry is your chore, so I pretend I didn’t hear it.’

‘What do you want?’ I ask my mom.

‘Wanted to know your plans for tonight.’

‘I was planning on hanging out with Andy,’ I say. Go outside, do some FindUrPricing. ‘Watch a movie. Probably sleep at his place. He is home alone, you know how he gets.’

Mom snorts. ‘Oh, do I know. How old was he when he rang our doorbell, nearly crying because he was afraid of the dark?’

‘The last time was a few months ago,’ I chuckle. ‘Why do you want to know my plans for tonight?’

‘You know,’ mom starts and I do know. ‘There is still a lot to do here at city hall.’

‘Right,’ I say, ‘and you wanted to know whether or not I mind. Mom, I’m your daughter, I truly don’t care.’

‘I’ll make it up to you,’ she says, mostly because she is trying to feel less guilty.

And I wouldn’t be her daughter if I wasn’t going to totally exploit her sweet offer. ‘So, you’re making breakfast for me and Andy tomorrow?’

She sighs. ‘Goodness gracious, really? I’m going to pull an all nighter.’

‘You wanted to be mayor and you’re also a mother. Deal with it.’

Mom scoffs. ‘And here I was thinking I was gonna get some sympathy from my daughter.’

‘Ew never,’ I say.

‘Well, I might just make breakfast for you, only if you eat it here. I might be your chef, but I’m not a waiter and I’m certainly not gonna walk it to the Carters.’

I scoff. ‘Okay, I think I can live with that.’

‘Alright, enjoy your night, Josie and don’t make it too late okay? Ten o’clock lights out, okay?’

No. ‘Of course. Bye mom.’

I look at the picture on the dining table. Despite not being blood related, my mom and I are really close. According to Andy’s mom, it never seemed like my mom would settle down. She moved to this boring place a few years prior to finding me on her doorstep. She was thirty and didn’t have a husband (nor had any intention of settling down with anyone—she turned down a lot of men who asked her out in Starfall Fields). Even back then, she was already a workaholic and worked over time as the mayor’s assistant.

One day, when she was getting herself ready for work, she heard soft cries from her front porch and when she checked it out, there was yours truly.

I was around a year old and in the cradle, there was a note saying that whoever found me, to take good care of me. My DNA wasn’t available in any database, just like there were no matches at all.

I have no idea who I am, who my biological family is and where I’m from.

Mom adopted me, because I only felt safe with her and since that moment, we were a duo.

A year and a half ago she became the mayor and since then she is everywhere in Starfall Fields, except home. I barely see her, but she does a lot for this town and I don’t think I have the right to whine about it, especially because it means many many sleepovers with Andy and many nights wandering around the woods to play FindUrPrice.

Sure, I miss her from time to time, because she’s still my mom. From someone who was home a lot, would wait for me on the porch no matter the weather when I came back from school and had chocolate pie ready for me and Andy, she changed to a real career woman who is everywhere in town.

But that’s okay, she’s happy and when she is, I am too. I should be, especially after everything she has done for me.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x becky kim #becky kim #asian ofc #sugar daddy!henry cavill #sugar sugar #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfic #becky kim is an author

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timextoxhajima · 3 years

Text

Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 7 - Golden Chains

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunjaethereal @sunwoowuvbot @suzy-rainbow

"Everyone wants everything she has.”

Juyeon raises his fist, Porsche parked nicely in the only empty lot of three by the fountain before the mini mansion. The sky is cloudy and Juyeon can already smell the musty scent of rain as the gentle cool winds blow through his still-waxed hair.

His knuckles press into the wooden door before he actually knocks, and he almost feels sorry for himself for being such a nuisance at the worst timings ever.

Finally mustering the courage to knock, he does just that, and he can see the lights in the entrance hall flicker on through the door panels by the sides after some time. Multiple locks click open, and the door opens just enough for the resident to see him.

“Juyeon,” Sunwoo blinks, already in his silk pajamas and his hair combed down nicely. He looks tired - probably from the day’s work of being Juyeon’s moodmaker at his own wedding. “What are you doing here? Oh my God, you got kicked out of the Lee’s House?”

“What? No!” The elder seethes quietly, his pride hurt. “I left.”

Sunwoo’s brows are covered by his fringe, but Juyeon doesn’t need to see them to know they are far up his forehead with amusement.

“You left the Lee House?”

“Yeah,” Juyeon sucks in a deep breath and avoids eye contact. “My mother told me she wanted me to have a child with Jang Won just so we can inherit HERA & ARTEMIS.”

“Oh, man,” Sunwoo’s face falls with pity and confusion. “That... that’s gotta suck.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here.”

Sunwoo pulls the door open for Juyeon to enter, head poking out the door to see the Porsche parked in his driveway. “You can stay if you like but I’m afraid people are gonna find out you’re here and not back at your place or Hera’s Manor.”

Juyeon pulls off his shoes and slips on a pair of home slippers meant for guests. The entrance hall is a lot less spacious and elaborate compared to the Lee House’s or Hera’s Manor, but it’s because of its smaller scale that comforts Juyeon. Feels more like a home than an exhibition.

The door shuts and Sunwoo pulls the locks back into place.

“I know, but I just didn’t know where else to be. I can’t stand being in that house.”

“Okay, so you hate your parents. We know this, but do you really have nowhere else to be at now?”

Juyeon turns and shoots Sunwoo a look of displeasure. The younger pouts slightly as he passes him and heads for the main hall. The fireplace crackles to life when he turns it on.

Dropping himself into the couch and staring at the fire, Juyeon pulls off his blazer and covers his face with it. The cushion next to him sinks when Sunwoo sits, quiet and unsure.

“It’s not that I don’t want you here. I just don’t want to risk you getting into trouble with the press. Everybody knows the Porsche’s carplate number. And aren’t all your cars bugged?”

“I removed the bug.”

“What? How? How did you even find it?”

“The one in the Porsche was under the compartment on the passenger’s side.”

“Did you like, throw it on the ground and drive over it or something?”

“I threw it at my bodyguard.”

Sunwoo snorts. “Were your parents around to see that?”

“Yeah, my dad was this close,” Juyeon lifts a hand and gestures with his thumb and index finger. “To punching a hole through the driver’s window, so I threw it out the passenger’s window instead.”

The hearty laugh that runs out of Sunwoo’s throat tickles Juyeon as well. “I’m not gonna lie, this is something you definitely wouldn’t have done prior.”

“Prior to?”

Juyeon pulls the blazer off his face and side-eyes Sunwoo. The answer was already in his eyes.

“Ah,” Juyeon scoffs. “Maybe it just bugs me that my mother was in the same position as Jang Won is now - an arranged marriage - and yet she’s telling me to do all these things to her... a child, taking HERA & ARTEMIS.”

“Don’t you think you’re developing too much of a soft spot for her already?”

“Why does everyone think that way?” Frowning, Juyeon finally sits up in the couch. “Poor girl lost her mother to cancer and then her father who only comes back from the dead, only to take what she built - does that make sense at all?”

“It doesn’t, but you seem to forget that she’s got the entire world at her feet. Even if your families harmoniously merged, I’m very sure she still wouldn’t give away her blood and sweat so easily.”

Juyeon sighs and drags his hands down his face, feeling the weight from the day sink into him. “I just... I can’t imagine. She’s... got questionable motifs, no doubt, but... when I spoke to Younghoon today, I... He made me promise to protect her and be patient with her, and now I see exactly why.”

He pauses and looks at the cracking fire.

“Everyone wants everything she has, and she knows that herself.”

Jang Won yawns and crawls into bed, stretching her neck from left to right as she tightens silk night gown around her waist. She fiddles with the ring on her left hand, diamond sparkling under the amber lights of her room.

Memory sends her back to earlier that day - to when Juyeon pulled her out of that sickening interaction with misogynist Mr Teuk, only to call her a hypocrite in her own office.

She harshly exhales, pulling out the ring and placing it by the nightstand. Her feet shuffles under the sheets, cool and heavy and all she wants to do is to slip into forever. If only.

But a gentle knock ensues on her door, and she groans in frustration, shutting her eyes to regulate her lack of sleep.

“What is it?”

“Miss Kim, there’s a call for you, and I’m afraid you’ll have to entertain it.”

She rams her face into her pillow when she recognises Mr Ro’s calmness. She’ll never yell at him for anything in the world.

“Can’t it wait till morning?”

“Uh, well... I’m afraid not, Miss Kim. It’s your husband.”

“Oh- my God!” She screams into her pillow, refusing to leave her bed even more now. “What is it that’s so fucking urgent?!”

The door finally clicks open and Mr Ro kindly pokes his head in, eyes furrowing at the lady of the house huddled into the thick sheets of her bed. She turns subtly, enough for one of her eyes to see Mr Ro’s head through the gap of the door.

“He, um, ran away from home. He’d like to stay for the night... or rather, until you leave for your honeymoon next week.”

Jang Won frowns, neurons in her head struggling to fit themselves together. She sits up. “What? Juyeon... ran away from home?”

He nods enough for her to see, and a strange sense of protection wells her stomach.

“Give me the phone,” She stretches out her palm and beckons Mr Ro over to her bed. The butler was already dressed in his own pajamas, so she can’t help but smile softly at how cute he looked.

And yet, she displays the magic of a 180 degree change as she presses the phone to her ear, “What the FUCK is wrong with you?! Do you have any FUCKING idea how late it is?!”

“Oh!” Mr Ro anxiously waves his hands at her. “It’s Mr Kim Sunwoo on the line, Jang Won!”

Her eyes widen, and she winces into the phone, taking a pillow to gently whack Mr Ro.

“Yeah, hear that, Juyeon? Do you have any idea what time it is now? Anyway, hi. It’s Kim Sunwoo, in case your butler hasn’t told you.”

“Right, right, sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry about that, just come and take your husband back to Hera’s Manor. He’s homeless and I can’t risk him being seen here. He drove his car here.”

“What? Isn’t his car bugged with a tracking device?”

“He ripped it out, but the whole press knows his car plate number so if he’s spotted here, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to answer why there’s a man involved in your marriage.”

Jang Won huffs with irritation. “Fine. I’ll send someone over to drive him back to Hera’s Manor. Why’s he homeless now anyway?”

Sunwoo laughs dryly over the phone. “His parents. What else?”

Jang Won twists the receiver away from her mouth and turns to Mr Ro. “Is the second master or the other guest room made up?”

“The second master is being used to house your clothes and items for your honeymoon, and the other guestroom is currently being used by your father.”

“What? My father? What the fuck’s he doing in the-”

“Uh, would you like a word with him? Maybe you could snap him out of his nonsensical act right now that’s putting him and you in various difficult situations.”

“Ugh, get someone to watch my father in the second guest room! We’ll clear him out tomorrow, and send someone down to Kim Sunwoo’s residence now! I want Lee Juyeon in Hera’s Manor in 30!” She twists the phone back so the receiver is at her mouth. “Get him on the phone. I’ll scream his ear off.”

“He says he’ll explain when he gets there- hey, give that back- wha-”

BEEP

Jang Won removes the phone from her ear just as Mr Ro shuts the door behind him. Rubbing her temples to cure the headache that’s forming in her skull, she reminds herself that her newly wed husband cannot be brutally murdered the night of her wedding.

“My God,” She huffs exasperatedly, side-eyeing Mr Ro. “Men.”

“Shall I call someone down to drive you there or-”

“No, just send a guard to tail my car but you just stay home and clear the second guest room.”

“Your father won’t be able to clear it out by the time Mr Lee is here, Jang Won.”

She halts in the midst of throwing on full-length coat. “Are you telling me that I might need to share this bed-”

“Possibly, yes.”

The groan that escapes her throat is loud, annoying and absolutely a bomb of a ruin to the rest of her night. “Fine. But get me a bolster. I don’t want him anywhere near 30 centimeters of me.”

Jang Won can’t exactly remember the last time she’s got her fingers around the steering wheel, but she sure as Hell felt the freedom when she didn’t have to worry about telling the chauffeur where she was headed off to.

The Mercedes tailing her car was driven by one of Hera’s Manor’s bodyguards, and so she makes sure to stay a good distance away from it since the press is also aware of her car plate number.

She parks her Audi right next to the Porsche, and the Manor’s Mercedes almost at the entrance where it leads up to the fountain and the roundabout. There’s no hesitation in slamming the door and almost running her entire fist through the door (if she could) to make her presence known.

“ROOM FUCKING SERVICE FOR MR LEE JUYEON. GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!”

Almost immediately, she can hear someone shuffling for the door, and it swings open to reveal Kim Sunwoo, a distant member of The Board. Peering over Sunwoo’s shoulder, she can see the reluctance dripping off her husband as he peels himself off the sofa, still in his clothes he had left in.

“You went home and didn’t bother to take a shower?” She sneers, but Juyeon cannot give two damns about her attitude right now. He finally reaches the party at the front door, noticing the Manor’s bodyguard driving the Mercedes up to meet the other cars.

“I went home and got blasted with the suggestion of having a child with you, how’s that for a reason not to shower?” He frowns, trudging past her for the Porsche.

Jang Won watches his back head down the steps, getting into his own car and prepare himself at the wheel with a look of contempt in his eyes. She turns to thank Sunwoo with a mere nod, before heading down the steps herself and getting into the Porsche. The plan was to have the Manor’s Mercedes left at Kim’s Residence while her bodyguard drove her Audi, and she would be in the Porsche with Juyeon - all this to prevent any sort of complications if they were to be spotted by the press.

The urge to scream at him for possibly ruining the perfect plan she had in store to debunk all the shit’s that gone down with her father has, surprisingly, diminished. Jang Won cannot decide what she’s more taken aback by - the fact that Juyeon left home because she had been unreasonably brought into discussion, or that he got scared by the thought of spending the rest of his life caring for a child with her.

Of course, being the skeptical person she is, she chooses to believe the second option more than the first.

“Is the idea of having a child with me so horrible that you had to leave home?”

“A child should not be brought into the picture when we don’t even care about each other,” The weight in his voice kind of hurts her pride. He checks the side mirror as he turns around the corner. “Neither of us had a choice to be where we are today so... let’s not implicate any other prospective beings that might suffer from our decisions. I don’t want to be my parents and I’m sure as Hell you don’t want to be like your father.”

Juyeon checks the rear mirror, making sure that her bodyguard was tailing them in the Audi. It’s strange, to have some peace and quiet in the car as the whir of the air-conditioning hums through the vehicle. She’s looking out the passenger’s window and seeing everything outside as they drive past.

“Haven’t been to this neighbourhood before, have you?”

She shakes her head, not bothering to turn to him. “No. I’ve only been hanging around the Manor and the Meridian Streets where you stay.”

A pause.

“Sunwoo’s grandfather was the first of his family to secure membership in The Board, that’s why the disparity.”

Jang Won’s eyes dart to Juyeon and tries to side-eye him, but he remains out of her view and she returns to the world outside. “He’s a new-blood?”

“Three-generations new,” Juyeon nods. “Haven’t met one, have you?”

“No. I grew up with people whose great-great-grandparents lived in the Joseon dynasty.”

“That would’ve been a fun time to be alive.”

“Only if you wanted to be executed for being a politician.”

Juyeon exhales through his nose.

Jang Won lets the atmosphere settle, feeling the gentle night seep into her after a long day. She wonders about Juyeon’s perception of her as a person, after everything’s been happening.

“How did you meet Kim Sunwoo?”

“We went to the same high-school. I was two years his senior and we were in the same club, and by then, my parents had already begun to teach me the likings of The Board and even gave me a booklet with all the families who were involved with it. I remembered Sunwoo’s family being indicated near the back of the book because they were new-bloods, and from then, I remembered his face.”

“Wouldn’t you have been worried he’d use you to shift up the food chain?”

“Not everybody is as venomous as the ones we know. Sunwoo had no idea I was from the Lee family. Once, we were shooting hoops till late and his father had come to get him... and then Sunwoo had to watch his father bow to another student... and I could tell he hated it, and then he was almost as shocked as I was, but for completely different reasons.”

Jang Won doesn’t even notice she’s staring at Juyeon until he turns to her, looking straight at her in her eyes. The car stops at a red light, now just a few streets away from Hera’s Manor. He turns away first.

“And I had to watch him bow to me too, just because his father told him to... and it felt like shit,” Juyeon’s eyes are glimmering the shade of red from the traffic light as he looks ahead. His face reflected the amber hues of the street lamps and other stray vehicles still on the road. “I wanted a friend, but his father was treating me like something they shouldn’t even be talking to.”

“It has always been like that. The way The Board works... it’s a hierarchy within another and when you’re a new-blood...”

“Yeah. I know,” Juyeon sighs as he lifts the brakes. “Part of me wishes we weren’t born into this shitshow.”

A mirror. That’s what he is. Stand right opposite Younghoon and he’s nothing but someone who wishes the same - to be free from all the golden chains.

#multifandomnet #the boyz juyeon imagines #the boyz juyeon fanfic #the boyz juyeon scenarios #juyeon #the boyz #the boyz juyeon #juyeon fanfic #juyeon scenarios #juyeon imagines #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #love me a little less

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slasherbastard · 3 years

Note

hiii! for the angst prompts, can i request #44 with bo sinclair? thank you ❤️

(gif credit: pearris2swime)

Warnings: Angst. A lot of Angst, light swearing, light graphic/sexual mention Word count: 1648 Notes: I rushed the ending because I wanted to get this done in time. Not gonna lie this isn’t my favourite work but I’m still happy with it

"Come on babe it's been years since I've seen this chick. I swear" One of Bo's old high school flings decided she wanted to pay Ambrose a visit the exact weekend the next town over hosts their annual fair.

"It just seems icky. Are you sure she doesn't still have feelings for you?"

"Even if she did I'm still with you, aren't I?" You watched him and Bo rolled his eyes. "Look, she's not going to come between us and that's a damn promise."

That conversation was going through your head over and over again like a broken record as you watched the scene in front of you. Bo and that girl he told you not to worry about - Nicole - had their lips against each other’s behind the haunted house. You know those scenes in those romance movies where time slows and you can hear that ringing in the character’s ears? That’s you, except this isn't a romance movie, it's a nightmare and you want to wake up. You expected him to pull away from her and yell at her about how the two of you weren't in high school anymore and how he was dating you, but instead he grabbed her and slammed her against the haunted house and aggressively ran his hands through her hair and you swore for a second that she even looked at you before closing her eyes and melting into Bo's touch.

You watched them until they finally broke apart, quickly wiping your tears as you walked over to the nearest food stall and bought some snacks before you noticed that they were walking over and Bo was trying to let go of his "friend's" hand. You stepped out of line with your snacks in hand and handed them to the two while Bo kissed you forehead and looked around, obviously trying to avoid your gaze while Nicole watched smugly.

"You know it's getting kind of late, 'whaddya say we head back? Nicole you're staying the night, right?"

"Well, unless you want me to walk back to Ohio myself then yeah." She laughed in an over exaggerated tone and Bo chuckled as he threw his arms over both your shoulders and walked you guys back to his truck.

The ride home was silent except for Bo who was tapping the steering wheel to the tune of whatever song was playing on the radio while giving Nicole suggestive looks through the rear view mirror. You could feel Bo's other hand on your leg and you quickly swatted it away and continued staring out the window and just hoping that you'd be pulling up to the house as soon as possible. You must've lost track of time because before you knew it Nicole was banging on your window and Bo was opening the front door. You got out - almost "accidentally" knocking out Nicole with the truck door - and followed her up to the house, but as you tried to enter the house Bo grabbed your arm and pulled you back out to the truck and stared down at you, his towering figure slightly intimidating you.

"What the hell is going on, Y/N? I told you you had nothing to worry about."

You rolled your eyes and kept your head down as you tried to leave but instead he grabbed you and pulled you close to him, forcing you to look up at him. "Hey don't walk away when I'm talking to you!"

"Why did you kiss her!"

It was quiet for a few moments before you repeated your question softly as your eyes became glassy with tears. "Why did you kiss her?" You bit your lip and took a step away from Bo desperate for an answer, something that could justify what you'd seen.

"It's not what it looks like. I swear I-"

You'd heard enough. "I wish I never met you." You spat at him before you ran into the house and straight upstairs and to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it before letting your back hit the door and sliding down until you were a crying mess on the floor. You truly felt like a character in a shitty bittersweet romance movie, except your perspective was the worst in the most cheesy way. You slammed your foot on the tiled floor a few times and continued to cry until you heard multiple pairs of footsteps and hushed laughing, you threw a hand over your mouth and listened as Bo and Nicole walked past and into your's and Bo's bedroom. You heard the bedroom door shut and muffled grunts and more laughter, it all made you feel sick - luckily there was a toilet right next to you.

As the noises grew louder and louder you grew more and more mad. A part of you wanted to walk in there and yank the girl off the bed by the hair and drag her down to the basement for Vincent's next big project, and the other part of you wanted to run and get out of Ambrose but knowing you, you wouldn't go far and Bo would eventually find you and next thing you'd know, you'd be Vincent's next big project. You got up and carefully opened the bathroom door trying not to make a sound, before going downstairs to see Vincent grabbing something out of the fridge. "Oh, hi Vincent." You wiped some stray tears away from your face quickly and walked up to him, although he was wearing his mask, his head tilt said a lot as he watched your expression.

Vincent put down the container he was holding and got close to you and you broke down again. "B-B-Bo is che-eating on me." Vincent froze. You didn't know what to do, you were so confused about everything that had happened tonight and all you wanted to do was sleep but you couldn't.

A scream came from upstairs.

You and Vincent both looked at each other before you were heading for the stairs with Vincent just behind you. As you approached your bedroom door you stopped, hesitant to open it, who knows what could've happened? But you pushed all your worries aside as you pushed the door open to see Bo sitting on the bed shirtless and Nicola on the floor. You looked up at Bo as he got up from the bed and met your eyes. "Well, do ya still hate me?" You didn't respond as he got closer. "I swear I was gon' tell ya, but I just got too into it." Bo chuckled to himself and reached down, picking up Nicola's body and taking her downstairs.

To say you were confused would be an understatement, Bo had a plan all along? You followed Bo downstairs. "What the hell? So you just let me think you were cheating on me? I saw you guys practically fucking behind the haunted house. Were you planning on fingering her in the bumper cars?" The two of you stopped and Bo turned to you. "You could've given me a heads-up at least." You said a little quietly. Bo's expression softened as he realised what he did genuinely pissed you off and hurt you.

"Just let me dump this body then we can sit down and talk." You nodded and let Bo go down to the basement and as he came back up Vincent gave him a judgemental look through his mask. "What's his problem?" You shook your head and smiled as you and Bo

---

"The truth is, she's been trying to get in contact with me for months before this. I tried to tell her that I had a partner but she didn't care, she really thought that we had mutually romantic feelings after our nights in high school even though she knew I was just using her for my stress relief. I'm surprised she stayed, I guess she liked it rough." Bo smirked at the last part but his face fell quickly. "I'm just glad she's gone, I just hope she didn't tell any of her friends about her little trip."

"So you're not into her at all. It was all just an act?"

"Yeah, I should've thought it through a bit better than that though. I promise I'll warn ya next time."

You nodded and turned your head as Vincent appeared, wiping his hands on his apron and looking at the two of you. "Is she finished?" You asked trying to contain your excitement. It was just something about seeing that girl covered in wax that made you feel a sense of relief. Vincent nodded and guided you and Bo downstairs to see the finished product. Nicole was standing there wearing the pet store uniform, you could see the terror in her eyes but that only made you happier.

"Well, Nicole always loved animals." Bo chuckled and looked and Vincent. "What's with that look, got a problem?"

The next morning you got up early and went straight to the pet shop window to see Nicole, you mentally taunted and teased her because Bo chose you over her. You opened the door and walked inside and scrunched your nose up, you didn't realise that a store filled with dead animals would smell so bad but you pushed it aside and walked up to Nicole. "I'm gonna assume you're still alive under all that wax, how does it feel? Do you still love Bo?"

Of course she didn't respond. You sighed out of relief and turned to admire the rest of the store. "I heard you love animals so you must be so happy right now, or is that just me because the bitch who tried to steal my boyfriend is gonna die here? I think it's just the animals." You laughed to yourself and left the store, nearly bumping into Bo. "Hey Bo, do you think we could get another dog?"

#angst #slasher #writing #horror #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #angst prompt #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax

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ollieofthebeholder · 3 years

Text

I Remember the Fallen, Do They Think of Me: A Rusty Quill Gaming fanfic

Also on AO3.

They’re none of them in very good shape, really. Well, except for Skraak, who seems to have managed to avoid getting a finger or tendril laid on him the whole time they were in Svalbard. He seems fine. The others might be fine physically, but that purple migraine that came out of the floorboards in the Council chamber did a number on their spirits. Cel’s the worst off, although they’re doing a bit better since their mutagen wore off, but they’re still edgy and tense and more strung up than usual. Azu just looks marginally grumpy, which isn’t a good look on her. Zolf almost wants to say something about how this party only has room for one sourpuss, but he probably won’t be able to make it sound like a joke, and it isn’t really a joke anyway, and Azu is quite capable of taking his head off, literally, if the mood strikes her. Which it well might. She looks like she’s itching to kill something and Zolf isn’t keen to be it. Hamid mostly looks tired, as well he ought with all the spells he cast. There’s a part of him that wants to compliment Hamid on his conduct back there, on strategic use of his spells to help his party members and keeping his head and not only finding the kill switch but figuring out how to use it to save them all, but it probably won’t come out right. Hamid will probably think he’s being condescending or something, or use it as an excuse to pick a fight. They’re both tired, really. And Zolf is feeling every one of the blows he took; nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure, he supposes, but at least that’s the worst of it for him.

So he doesn’t protest when Einstein teleports them back to Other London and Wilde insists they get some sleep in the back of Gragg’s old tavern rather than risk breaking the surface in the state they’re in. Skraak does, and surprisingly, so does Azu, but all Zolf has to do is point at Cel, looking miserable, and they back down.

“Got a room upstairs,” Gragg says, pointing upwards. “Lots of room for you all. I’ll be down here. Oh—Mr. Smith, right?”

“Yeah?” Zolf frowns at Gragg.

“Letter came for you. From the Poseidon lot. Their messenger said they thought I’d know where to find you.” Gragg shrugs, a little helplessly, and holds out an envelope. “I didn’t, but you’re here.”

Zolf sighs and takes the envelope with a muttered “thanks”. He’s done with the Poseidon lot, has been for close to two years now, but it seems they’re not done with him. He looks over at the others. “Go lie down, the lot of you. I’ll see what this is all about and then I’ll be up in a minute.”

“Surely it can keep until the morning, Zolf,” Wilde says. “Or whatever passes for morning right now. It’s kept this long.”

“Rather not try and sleep with this hanging over my head,” Zolf replies. “Won’t be but a minute.”

“Hmm.” Azu looks at him, then nods once and starts shooing the others up the stairs. Gragg gives him a nod, too, then disappears into the back.

Once Zolf is alone, he sinks down onto a barstool and immediately wishes he hadn’t. It’s not that it’s uncomfortable, or that it’s too tall for him, or even that now that he’s sitting he doesn’t want to get up. It’s that the last time he sat on one of these stools, it was less than twenty-four hours after meeting Hamid and Sasha (and, unfortunately, Bertie), back when he was still just a mercenary, or a Cleric pretending to be a mercenary, or a mercenary pretending to be a Cleric, or just a disillusioned and drifting person desperately looking for something to believe in. Back when Other London was a bustling city full of people trying to live their lives and Gragg wasn’t responsible for anything more than having enough food and drink to last the night. Back before Zolf doomed the world.

He allows himself precisely five seconds to wallow in the guilt of the past, then props his elbows on the bar and turns the envelope over in his hands. ZOLF SMITH, CLERIC is scrawled on the front in extremely shaky, spiky handwriting, along with a series of letters at the bottom that’s obviously in some sort of code, since it’s got far too many X’s and no vowels except a couple I’s. The back is sealed with some very old wax that looks like someone literally just dripped a candle on the envelope and pressed a seal into it. Zolf sighs as he recognizes the shape—it’s a dead match for the ring he still wears on his own finger, his last connection to his family. The Spade of the Harlequins. This letter might have been passed on by a member of the Cult of Poseidon, but it’s coming from a Harlequin.

Probably it’s Curie, writing to say she isn’t dead after all, although why she’d write to him of all people is a bit beyond him. He’s also not sure why she would feel the need to emphasize his Cleric status on the address. But...whatever. Might as well get this over with.

He slides a finger under the flap of the envelope and loosens the seal, then pulls out the folded papers within. It’s a thick sheaf and surprisingly heavy, and when he unfolds them, something slips from between the pages and lands on the bar with a thump and a clatter. Zolf looks down and sees a dagger, etched with some arcane symbols he doesn’t recognize. Great. A magic dagger. That bodes well. He huffs at it. If they want him to identify it, they’re going to be out of luck; that’s not his area of expertise. Maybe he’ll ask Wilde or Hamid in the morning.

He turns his attention back to the letter. It’s the same scrawl as the front of the envelope, scratched out in some places, odd splatters of ink in others, and there are a couple places where it looks like the ink’s run a bit. Gods, he hopes he’ll be able to read this.

Less than a line in, and his blood runs cold as the rest of the world drops away.

Zolf -

It’s gone bad. It’s all gone real bad. I don’t know when this letter’s going to get to you, except I know it’ll be sometime after you left in Prague because—well, you left. You wouldn’t have left if you knew all this before. But it all went wrong, and I need you to know what happened.

It didn’t go wrong right away. At first it was kind of okay. Hamid and I went out and tried to see how many restaurants we could go to, and that was nice. It helped us both, I think, because we both missed you already, but neither of us said anything about that. Like if we pretended it didn’t happen, it wouldn’t hurt. And it worked, at least at first. And then we found Bertie at the last one we went to, and he was causing a huge mess, you know what Bertie’s like. You were right about that. After that it just kept getting worse.

I woke up the next morning and I didn’t feel good again. Everything was bleeding again and I looked kind of bad, but I pretended I was okay and Hamid and Bertie didn’t notice. Well, Bertie never noticed anything that he didn’t want to, but Hamid, I think he was still upset. I dunno. Anyway, I went to the Temple of Artemis to get healed. The lady there wasn’t like you, she didn’t really make me feel all that...I think that’s just what the Artemis lot are like, though. Everyone I’ve met who’s from Artemis, they do what needs doing and go on to the next thing. I didn’t know that then, though. Anyway, I asked her why it kept happening, why I kept waking up hurt, and how to make it stop, and she made me tell her a bunch of stuff and then said it was because I got brought back to life wrong and I’d have to go to a Temple of Aphrodite to get healed right.

Then there were zombies. Loads of zombies, and they were attacking in the middle of the square. We went to fight them off and that’s when we met Grizzop, he’s—he was a Paladin of Artemis, and he helped us fight them. Bertie had this ring, he said it was supposed to make the undead go away, but instead it made them come closer to him. It made me come closer to him, too, and that was really not a lot of fun, Zolf, I didn’t like that at all. I fought it, though. I fought it really hard and it mostly worked. But there were loads of zombies, and even though we fought them off okay, the four of us, I was real worried about you. Part of me wanted to go find you and make sure you were okay, but I knew you didn’t want to be found, so I had to trust you would be all right. Grizzop said he was supposed to be hunting down a rogue mage that was probably making all the zombies, and we were still supposed to go up to the University and stuff, so we said we’d go with him in the morning.

Everything opened up again overnight, so I had to get healed a bit. Hamid kept asking me if I was okay, and I kept telling him I was, partly because I knew he couldn’t do anything to fix it and partly because I’m just so used to pretending I’m fine when I’m not, and partly because I didn’t want to worry him more than I had to. We went up to the University like we talked about, and it just kept getting worse and worse. Mostly by Bertie being Bertie, but also because the rogue mage, Franz Kafka, he had a book that came from Rome and it drove him crazy. He was a Harlequin, the council told us, and they were all Harlequins too, they had rings like yours and Rakefine’s, and they’d kind of lied to Grizzop because they didn’t want people to know it was one of them doing the zombie thing down in the city, but they asked us to go take care of it and we said we would. So we went back down to Prague and fought loads of stuff. We had a map with all the plague pits on them, Kafka was raising zombies out of them, so we decided to try and clear out as many as we could. Hamid had got tickets for the opera and the ley lines crossed at the opera house, so he thought Kafka would choose to try and spring his trap there, but Grizzop and I said it’d be better to take out the zombies before that. We got him to agree in the end, kind of, but we didn’t manage to get all the zombie pits cleared out before the opera was supposed to start.

It got really, really bad at the opera, Zolf. I don’t know if you were still in Prague then, I don’t know if you heard about it, but it was real bad. The basement was full of zombies and Grizzop and I tried to fight them off, but there were so many and a couple of them were really big and even though I had all these bombs I made and Grizzop had his bow and arrows and all that, we couldn’t kill them all, so we had to run up to the top. Then when we got up there, we found out that Hamid was right, that Kafka had tried to attack at the opera, and everybody was frozen and Bertie and Kafka were both flying and facing off each other, and Hamid—Hamid was gone. He was nowhere in the theater, and when I got to the stage I saw his bracelets and what was left of his clothes looking like they’d been torn apart and I knew, I knew Kafka had killed him somehow, and it was my fault because I wasn’t there to help him. And Kafka didn’t just have Bertie, he had Hamid’s sister—she was singing in the opera, it’s why Hamid wanted to go so bad—and he told Bertie that he had to pick whether he’d kill Bertie or Aziza. Don’t think it’ll surprise you which one Bertie picked.

But Kafka cheated. He killed both of them. I wasn’t fast enough, I couldn’t stop him—I tried, Zolf, I tried so hard, but even with Grizzop shooting arrows at him I couldn’t kill him fast enough to stop him from killing both of them. And, I mean, I kind of would have wanted to kill Bertie myself, or let Hamid do it, or at least let Hamid yell at him a lot, but even though Bertie wasn’t a very nice person, he didn’t deserve what happened to him. And his sister—she was just singing. She was just there and doing what she loved and Hamid was so proud of her, Zolf, and Kafka killed her just because he could. It wasn’t right. The guards finally showed up, but they were too late to help. Bertie was dead and Aziza was dead and Hamid...

Well, Hamid wasn’t dead after all. Grizzop found him on the roof of the opera house. Kafka put a spell on him and turned him into a monster, and the monster ran away. So at least he didn’t hurt anybody and not know it. He’d have hated that. I’d have hated that. Grizzop would’ve just killed him, I think, and then I’d have really been alone and I don’t know what I would have done. But he didn’t and I wasn’t, not then. They fixed us up and we had to tell Hamid about what happened. I didn’t tell him about Bertie getting to pick. He was hurt enough by what happened. And we almost got arrested or kidnapped or something like that by the Cult of Mars, but Wilde showed up and got us out of it.

As bad as Hamid wanted to go home with his sister and make sure Bertie was taken care of and all that, when they gave us a job to do, he agreed to do it before Einstein teleported us to Cairo. So then we went into Newton’s study and found his pocket dimension, and it turned out that there was somebody working there who’d been working with Kafka and Edison on Mr. Ceiling, or on something like Mr. Ceiling anyway. And it turned out that she was an old friend of Hamid’s. I think they were dating once. She really didn’t like him anymore, though, so even if she hadn’t done the work that meant Mr. Ceiling could happen, I wouldn’t have liked her, because she was really nasty to him. And he just stood there and took it. He didn’t fight her and he didn’t argue with her and he didn’t try to stand up for himself. He just kept saying she had to come with us.

You’d be proud of him, I think.

Anyway, after that Einstein sent us to Cairo. We wound up in the middle of a real bad sandstorm—Hamid thought we were probably in the middle of the desert, but then it turned out we were on the main street and not that far from the Temple of Aphrodite. That’s when we met Azu, and that was a pretty good thing, but that was the only good thing really. They told us at the Temple they’d been having lots of really bad weather, like they were having in Dover when we were there. I like the rainstorms a lot better than sandstorms, but it still wasn’t fun. And that was the easy bad thing.

This part’s not easy to talk about, and it feels really selfish when I think back on it, because I didn’t handle it in a way that you’d be proud of. I went to talk to one of the healer people about whether or not they could fix how I kept waking up hurting and that the person at the Artemis temple had said I was a little bit undead. He checked me over and said that I wasn’t just a little undead, I was really undead, and that I only had about a month left before I turned into something else. Hamid and Grizzop called it a lich—I hope I’m spelling that right, it’s not like they ever wrote it down, but that’s what it sounds like. Grizzop said they were evil, but Hamid kept saying that maybe I would be the first non-evil lich. Which, I mean, I guess that would have been okay, but...

Eren Fairhands said there were only three ways to fix me—to die all the way and go for a resurrection, to get a necromancer to follow me around and do magic on me to keep me just plain undead, or to get this artifact called the Heart of Aphrodite that the Meritocrats had all locked up because they don’t want powerful magic just floating around for anyone to use. I told Hamid and the others that I didn’t think they’d agree to let me use something that powerful, just for me; Hamid insisted they might because we’d saved the world a couple times, and also his other sister worked for the Meritocrats so maybe it would be okay. But I didn’t believe him. The world doesn’t work that way for people like me, you know? And the other two options...I might have trusted them if you were there to do them, but not someone I didn’t know, or a god I didn’t know.

Anyway, we went to Hamid’s family’s house. Hamid was really scared about seeing his family again, but, I mean, it had to go better than seeing Barret did for me, right? And it sort of worked out okay, at first anyway, but everybody was real upset, not that I blame them. They had the funeral the next day, and it went okay, but a tall figure in a hood like the one that hung out with Barret showed up. We watched it and then it disappeared, but it was after Hamid’s brother, and we didn’t want him to lose anybody else, so we were trying to protect him. And then it came back and we attacked it and we managed to kill it, but I just, I didn’t handle it well at all. I fell apart and then I just shut down. I think I gave up. I decided I was just going to die and that was all there was to it.

Like I said, I don’t think you’d be very proud of me for that. I had options, even if they didn’t seem very likely, but there was still a chance and I should have held onto that. You would have. But I didn’t and that means I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have done.

Hamid’s brother was working for Barret. Kind of. He got in debt and he owed Barret money, and Barret wanted him to rob the bank that Hamid’s family works for to pay him back, but things went wrong and someone died. That’s what Barret gave Hamid the ring for, he wanted him to give it to his brother, but Hamid wouldn’t because he’s a good person and he didn’t want to make his brother suffer. But because someone died, the bank was going to arrest him, but Hamid’s father said he would take the blame instead. Hamid tried to make him not do that, tried to make him see that his brother needed to face the consequences, but his father did it anyway. Then Hamid came back and told us what was happening, and he asked us for advice, and I said a lot of really mean things about his family. Well, all of us did, I guess, but...it’s different with Grizzop and Azu, you know? They didn’t know him. Not like I did. I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have said because I was upset and scared and hurting and I wanted to make Hamid feel that way too, and I shouldn’t have because he already was and I should have known that and it wasn’t fair. I won’t say I didn’t mean what I said, because I did, but I still shouldn’t have said it. And I didn’t mean it about Hamid, at least. He’s a good person, Zolf, he really is, even with what he did before, and he wanted us to help him and all Grizzop and Azu would say was that his brother and father deserved to be punished and I said they could get away with not being punished because they were rich and...

I wish you were there. You would have known what to say, what to do. You wouldn’t have made such a mess of it like I did.

I thought about you a lot that night, about what you would have said and done, and the next day when we went down for breakfast, I tried to do like you would have. I asked Hamid and Grizzop and Azu how their talk went after I left, and Hamid apologized to them for trying to keep his brother out of trouble and mucking it all up, and then he told us what happened to him. He got kicked out of university because someone he thought was his friend tried to get him to make a potion as a prank, but he wrote it down wrong and then the not-friend made it bigger and a bunch of people died, so he joined up with you—us—to try and make up for what he did. He was really worried that all he did was make things worse, because he said you didn’t think what we did in Paris helped, and then he didn’t think he helped at all in Prague. But he did, and he’s trying, and Grizzop said that was what was important. And I pointed out how much better he’s gotten since we met, because I meant it but also because I think you would have said it too, and he said it helped, me saying that. So we had a little bit of good, at least. And Hamid said a lot of really nice things about me when we met Apophis later that day, and Apophis agreed that we could use the Heart of Aphrodite to fix me. And it worked, Zolf, it really did. I’m good as new. Better, even, Fairhands even grew my finger back for me. For a little bit, everything was great, and the only thing that would have made it better was if you were there too.

And then it went bad again. We had to go to Damascus because there was information in the vaults when we got the Heart of Aphrodite that Edison was doing a bunch of stuff with the factories there, and that it might be involved with the Simulacrum and everything. The first factory was run by goblins and they were real proud of what they were doing, and they even gave me a dagger made of adamantine. When we went to investigate the other factory, though, they wouldn’t even let us in and it was really suspicious, so we sneaked in in the middle of the night to have a look around. They’d fired all the people who worked there and they had monsters in the warehouses to guard them, and they were building things like the Simulacrum. Loads of them. We had to fight our way out and then, well, we were going to go back to Damascus and find Wilde and tell him what was going on when someone showed up at the door with two more of those tall things like we killed at the funeral, and I think it was one of Bertie’s friends, you remember those people with the carriage from the Simulacrum unveiling? Wellington. Him. Anyway, Grizzop shot at him and he went away, but then they dropped a body in, only it wasn’t dead. It was Barret and he was tied up and beaten up.

You’d be proud of Hamid. He was all calm and serious and firm, just like you used to do when you were getting information out of bad people. I half expected him to threaten to drown Barret in a bucket. Would’ve loved to see the look on his face if he did. Anyway, Barret eventually told us he was working with the Cult of Hades. They’re the ones who suggested he get in touch with us about the Serpentines, and they’re the ones who helped him take all the kids out of Other London that got sent to Paris to be used for Mr. Ceiling. Then he told us the Cult of Hades had infiltrated the Meritocrats, and that he had too, and he gave Hamid a list of names. Grizzop and Azu wanted to just kill him. Hamid thought he should be arrested, but then they asked me what I wanted to do with him. If you’d been there, I’d have said he was a good candidate for a sacrifice, but...that didn’t seem right. Not just killing him. It’d be too easy to be just like him, and I never wanted that. So Azu and Hamid took him to Damascus to give him over to the Artemis lot to be put in prison, and they said they’d talk to Wilde and come back while Grizzop and I stayed and watched the factory and made sure nothing else bad happened. I went and checked one of the warehouses, and it was like it was raining in there—there was an aqueduct and they were piping water through, which I thought was weird because water was so expensive and hard to find in Damascus. Wilde showed up and asked us to show him the warehouses, then said we had to go because he’d arranged to have the factory destroyed. He said things were getting really bad, that there’d been the riots in London and Other London and a whole bunch of other places too, and that with the Meritocrats being compromised he didn’t trust anyone but our group, which kind of made me feel good and bad at the same time.

I like Wilde. Didn’t think I would, but I do.

Anyway, Apophis came in and turned the whole thing into glass, but there was steam coming up from a crack in it, so we slept on it and then investigated in the morning. There were pipes and tunnels and all sorts of things, and we almost got caught in a couple traps, but we came through okay, and then we found the secret part of the factory where they were making the outsides of the Simulacra (Hamid called them robots, I kind of like that better, actually). It turned out they were stealing the river, too, to make the factory work, so we started destroying it, because they were evil, or at least using evil things to do the work. It was all going so well for once. We were really doing good, even when we had to fight off an assassin that kept trying to turn us into stone.

And then...and then we got a weird magic message. I can’t really explain it in detail, maybe Hamid can tell you about it better, but the Cult of Hades sent us a message and told us that we needed to stop, or else. When we tried to argue with them, they showed us what they’d done.

They took our families.

Bi Ming, and Azu’s big brother, and one of Hamid’s little brothers, and a goblin who must’ve been important to Grizzop (I never got the chance to ask him about that). They had them tied up and trapped, and they said they were in Rome, and if we didn’t go and rescue them they’d...

Well. We weren’t going to let that happen, were we? We couldn’t. At least Hamid and I couldn’t. I think Azu was a little torn, because her brother can take care of himself and all, but Hamid and me, we couldn’t wait. We thought we’d pop back up, tell Wilde what was going on, get him to send in people to take care of it, and get on to Rome. We knew it was dangerous, but we had to. Grizzop argued with us about it, he said the mission was more important, and in the end he stayed behind and took care of everything while we went on to Rome with Einstein.

I’m sure you’ve heard about Rome and what it’s like. You’ve been loads more places than Hamid or I have, you’ve got to know the stories. I don’t think you can really know what it’s like unless you’ve been there, though. Best way I can describe it is, remember when we got across the Channel and you were telling me about that place you sailed through in a storm once, where you could see all the shipwrecks and things? Like that, but on dry land. Nobody lives there but monsters and the ghosts of memories. The air felt bad, and it did weird things to magic, too. Sometimes Hamid’s spells worked really well and sometimes they didn’t work at all and sometimes they were normal, it didn’t make any sense. Azu couldn’t do many spells at all, because her magic comes from Aphrodite and the prayers weren’t working. She said it was like Aphrodite couldn’t hear her, but I think now it’s the other way around—that Aphrodite could hear Azu just fine, but Azu couldn’t hear Aphrodite’s reply, and I think that’s worse. Because it means whatever was strangling Rome wanted people to feel like the gods abandoned them, but also wanted the gods to suffer knowing that people who believed in them and all that were desperately reaching for them and they couldn’t do anything but listen.

It wasn’t easy. It was hot and hard to move around sometimes, and things kept attacking us, all kinds of monsters. Einstein was basically useless, so it was just Azu and Hamid and me having to fight, and I was really glad I wasn’t trying to do this and also not turn into a lich, ‘cause not being able to heal would’ve been really bad. Worse for Hamid, though. He nearly blew himself up and it scared me half to death, but I was honestly too happy he was safe to really yell at him for it. We hid out in a basement overnight to sleep and heal, and the next day we found the place where our families were being kept...kind of. We had to sneak into this big building, and when we got in, we found a big purple cloud, like a hole in the universe or something. I don’t know the details of the magic, that was more Hamid’s thing, but the people we loved were inside it, and there was this Paladin of Apollo there, too, someone who apparently knew Bertie, and he went in there and got stuck. Grizzop got there with Eldarion, she’s—she was my teacher when I was in prison, kind of in prison anyway, and she wanted me to stop running around getting in trouble and go back somewhere safe, but I told her I wasn’t going to do that. Eventually she gave in. Einstein said he’d wait for us to teleport us out when we got out safely, we didn’t know how long it would be, because the magic led to another plane and time might not move the same way there.

Actually getting everybody out wasn’t so hard. It was like a puzzle. I kind of like puzzles, actually. We had to fight a couple monsters, nothing too serious, except one of them broke my favorite ice dagger and I was kind of upset about that. But Bi Ming was okay, and so was Issak, and Azu’s brother, and Grizzop’s friend, and even Ed. We got everything and we got together in a circle and Eldarion transported us back.

And that’s when it went really bad. At least for me.

I couldn’t hold on. There was just so much going on, and my hand slipped, and then I couldn’t grab Bi Ming’s hand quick enough to stop from getting ripped away from the group and getting lost. I didn’t come back with the others.

But, obviously, I’m writing this letter to you and it’s going to get to you, I know it will, so you know I’m not dead and I didn’t go to another reality or anything like that. I landed on the floor, and I recognized the floor of the place I’d been in before, just...newer. Brighter-looking.

I went back in time, Zolf. Grizzop too, his grip slipped too. He said Eldarion stepped out of the circle before we left the other dimension—there were too many of us, she couldn’t guarantee she’d get everyone back safe if she didn’t let go, I think—but she’s not here, so I don’t know where she ended up. But Grizzop and I came here. To Ancient Rome, in the days before it was destroyed. Literally days. I’m alive, I’m healthy...and I’m trapped two thousand years before I was even born, or anybody I love.

It’s still fresh, I don’t know if I can talk about it, but I’ll try. We tried to help, Grizzop and me. We went looking for the Cult of Mars, and the Cult of Hades, to try and take them down and see if we could stop Rome from being destroyed and the world from getting bad in the future.

We couldn’t.

We tried, honest we did, but the fight...it was too much, it was too bad. I think I should have died, but Grizzop took a spear that was meant for me. And then he kept getting hit, but he wouldn’t stop, he was trying to take down the captain. He did, but...but they killed him. I was right there and he went down and then they knocked me out and when I woke up I was strung up from the ceiling like I was going to be fed to something and there were all these dragons and Grizzop was still on the floor and he was dead and I wasn’t and...

I can’t, Zolf. I just...I can’t. Not now. Maybe, maybe someday I can, but not today.

The point is that we didn’t stop the cults, and we didn’t stop the dragons, and we didn’t save Rome, and we didn’t save the world. Maybe we couldn’t have. And Grizzop died and I didn’t. I checked when I got free, after the dragons got away, but I’m not a healer and I’m not magic and I’m not...there was nothing I could do. And I couldn’t even take him with me. I had to leave him there or I wouldn’t have got out.

I think I shut down again. I don’t remember a lot of the walk out of Rome. I just remember telling this man we’d met—his name is Cicero—I told him to show me the way out, and I followed him, and I made sure he didn’t die, because he was the only person I knew anymore and I was not going to lose anybody else. And along the way, there were—there were other people trying to leave, trying to get away, and I just, I grabbed them and I brought them with us, because I wasn’t going to leave them behind, because I couldn’t. Maybe I couldn’t save everybody, but I had to save the ones I could.

That’s all we ever can do, right?

We found a place. It’s...it’s a home. It’s warm, and dry, and safe. I can stand on the roof and see for miles around, but it’s close enough that I can get supplies if we need them, and bring in more people. Refugees from Rome, mostly. People who need a place to be safe. There aren’t as many as maybe you’d think, a lot of people just stop here before going on somewhere else, but some stay. Mostly kids. The ones with families, parents and kids, most of them go on after a while, but the kids who don’t have anywhere else, anyone else, they stay, and I’m trying to take care of them. Trying to teach them a bit.

It’s all been a way of marking time, really, up until now. I know, in my heart of hearts, that Hamid and Azu and the others made it back safe and sound. And I know Hamid won’t give up on me. Every day I’ve been expecting to see him, or a magical effect of some kind. Something to get me home. I’m trying to be patient, trying to tell myself that just because time’s going on for me doesn’t mean it is for you lot. It’s not going to be instant, it’s not—it’ll happen, I keep saying. I’ll get another chance. I’ve just got to wait.

But today, I—Cicero and the kids, they surprised me with a party. I’d told them I didn’t know when my birthday was exactly, which is kind of true because the months aren’t the same here, but I didn’t think about it until today. I got back from a supply run and they’d set up a celebration for me. Cicero told me that since I couldn’t remember when I was born, they’d decided that my new birthday was the day he met me, the day my new life started, I guess.

It’s been a year. A whole year.

I made it through the party, somehow, but as soon as I could I got away and came up here to my room. I was upset and scared and missing you more than ever, you and Hamid both, and I thought suddenly that maybe you didn’t know I was alive, that maybe Hamid thought I was lost and didn’t know where to find me, so I was going to write Hamid a letter at first, but...but I really wanted to write to you.

I really needed you.

I’m a little bit calmer now, though, and I’m thinking a little more clearly. Maybe writing all this out helped some. I just imagined I was talking to you, and that helped, too. I’ve never been all that great with words, but I’ll try here. There’s some important stuff I think I need to say.

Hamid and I were the same age, did you know that? We talked about a lot of stuff while we were going to the different restaurants in Prague, and one of the things we talked about was our birthdays. We thought it was kind of cool that we both had the same birthday. We were both twenty-three.

We were kids, Zolf. Just a couple of dumb kids who thought we were grown up. I’ve got a bunch of dumb kids of my own now, and I know what I’m talking about. We thought we knew everything about everything, and it’s probably one of the reasons we didn’t always get on so much. We both thought we knew how the world worked, and because the way I saw the world and the way he saw the world were so different, we both thought the other didn’t know anything about anything. I’d never been out of London—I’d barely been out of Other London—and Hamid, for all he’d been places, he hadn’t really seen the world, just the part of the world that rich people let their kids go. We had a lot to learn.

We needed you. I don’t blame you for leaving, I know you needed that too, and I meant what I said about how none of us were forced to be there and you could leave if you wanted to, and we both trusted you’d come back when you were doing better. And maybe we both thought we’d be okay on our own. But I thought the whole world worked like Other London and Hamid thought the whole world worked like Cairo and Cambridge. Azu and Grizzop both saw how they thought the world should be, but the difference was Azu didn’t realize that it wasn’t like that, I think, and Grizzop just tried to make it like that. But you knew how my world worked, and how Hamid’s world worked, and how the rest of the world worked, and when you were there, it was a lot easier to see things how they really were and not just how they would have been if we were where we were used to, you know?

But it’s not just that. I didn’t get to be a kid, not really. And now that I think about it, Hamid didn’t really either. I had to be a thief and he had to be a banker’s son, and there were rules and things we had to do and things we were expected to be, and we didn’t get to figure out who we were and who we wanted to be. But you let us be that. You made it safe for us to start figuring ourselves out, even if it upset you sometimes, but you were there to catch us if we went too far. And even when you yelled at us, I think we could tell you weren’t really mad. We both had a lot of growing up to do still, even if we didn’t think so, but we weren’t going to do it without someone to show us how. And you’re the only person either of us ever met who was willing to do that for us.

I don’t know if you can get me back. I know I can’t get back to you from here. Magic isn’t what I’m used to, or the people who can do that kind of magic...don’t. I keep thinking about something Apophis said, about how the Meritocrats took a lot of magic things away from humanity because only the rich people could get at them, and I wonder if it’s not something like that, that I’m just not rich enough to get to someone powerful enough to send me home. But I think I’m going to have to wait, and hope. I’m not giving up that hope, because I know you wouldn’t want me to, but...but maybe there’s a reason I’m supposed to be here.

These kids, they need someone too. Like I did. And right now, I’m what they’ve got. If I leave, I don’t know what’s going to happen to them. So this isn’t me saying “don’t keep trying to find me”, this is me saying that if you can’t get me back...I think I’ll be okay. I just keep asking myself, every time I run up on something that I’m not sure about, I think, “What would Zolf do?” And so far I’m not doing too bad, except for the part where I had to tell Maximus he couldn’t threaten to drown his little brothers and sisters in a bucket every time they annoy him. I’m doing my best, though. That’s all I can do. I’m trying. I’m trying to be you for them.

And it’s a little bit like I’ve got you here with me.

But Hamid doesn’t. He doesn’t have you and he doesn’t have me, and his sister and his friend died, and his father and his brother are going to prison, and someone he thought was his friend doesn’t care that she was doing work that got used for horrible things. He’s still just a kid really. And Azu’s solid, but she’s not what he needs. She sees the world in black and white. Either you’re her friend, or you’re her enemy, and if you’re her friend, you’re a good person. Hamid needs somebody who sees him for who he is, and cares about him as a person and not as what he can be or do. He needs you.

So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to finish this letter, and I’m going to take it to the Temple of Poseidon up in the town, and I’m going to ask them to find a way to get it to you. And then I’m going to come home, and I’m going to get all the kids together, and I’m going to tell them stories. I’m going to tell them about the ocean and the rain, the stars and the sand. I’m going to tell them about monsters and mechanical men and magic. I’m going to tell them about Azu and Grizzop and Wilde and even Bertie, my friends, and I’m going to tell them about Hamid, my brother, and I’m going to tell them about Zolf, the best dad I could ever have asked for.

And what I want you to do—it’s a big favor, but I’m hoping this letter won’t get to you until you’ve had a chance to get right. I want—no, I need you to go find Hamid. Maybe it hasn’t been very long, maybe you’re getting this right after we left, in which case, go to Rome and meet him when he gets back. Or maybe it’s been a bit and you’ll need to ask Wilde. He’ll know where to find him. Tell him I sent you if you have to, if he won’t listen to you, but please, please go find Hamid. He needs someone to be there for him, and I have a feeling you need someone too. Someone who believes in you, too. I’ll feel better knowing you’re together, that you’re helping each other, keeping each other safe. Tell him I’m sorry, for what I said about his family. Tell him I miss him, and I love him. I miss you, too, and I love you, too. I mean that with everything I have in me.

We’ll see each other again. I know that. In your time or mine, in this world or the next. I know I’ll be able to see you both again. And I hope that when I do, I’ll be able to look you in the eye and know that I made you proud.

Love always,

Sasha.

P.S. I want you to have my fire dagger. It’s probably not safe to have around just now, it being magic and all, and I want you to have something to remember me by.

Zolf lowers the last page of the letter slowly to the bar top. For a long time, he doesn’t move, just stares at the sheaf of papers and the dagger without really seeing either of them.

Then he takes a deep breath, slides off the stool, and trudges slowly and quietly up the stairs.

The upper floor of what used to be Gragg’s tavern consists of what can only loosely be described as “rooms” because there are two walls, each going about a third of the way across the room, dividing it into nominally two separate spaces. There are a few crates of supplies scattered about, mostly blankets from what Zolf can see in the half-open ones, but one of them has Skraak curled up inside, sound asleep. It’s not hard to find the group, in a sort of nest of blankets tucked up against one of the dividing walls. Azu lies on her back, one arm flung over her face. Cel’s hair is just visible over the edge of a ball of blanket up against Azu’s side; Zolf can’t see their face, but he guesses they still feel pretty terrible. Sumatnyerl sleeps on her side on the opposite side of Azu, back to the party and face to the dividing wall. Einstein snores lightly, cuddling Azu’s outstretched arm like a teddy bear. Even Wilde is there, half-sitting and half-slumped against Azu’s side, a blanket loosely draped over his lap and one hand resting in the space next to it, looking for all the world like he was trying to sit up and wait for Zolf but fell asleep anyway.

Hamid is nowhere to be seen.

Zolf tries to tamp down his instinctive panic. There’s only one way in or out up here, unless Hamid climbed out a window, and he wouldn’t do something like that. Nothing could have got up here without Zolf hearing it, he’s sure—well, okay, he was lost in the letter, it’s possible, but surely the others would have heard something. Hamid’s got to be nearby. He’s just...not sleeping with the others, for some reason. Maybe as he gets more dragon-ish, he gets more like the kobolds and prefers to sleep somewhere he can’t be found easily. Maybe he just doesn’t want to sleep on the floor and has figured out how to make himself a little bed, or found a bed somewhere.

Unless an assassin with Sasha’s level of skill but no morals sneaked in through the window. Unless there’s another thing like the thing they fought in Svalbard that burned their clothing and damaged their spirits. Unless the one Hamid sucked into the kill switch got out somehow and attacked him. Unless Hamid did do something stupid, maybe testing out a new spell he’d discovered or ability he’d developed...

Zolf moves as quickly and quietly as he can into the other half of the room. It’s been mostly picked over and cleared out, those few boxes remaining pushed to the sides of the room. One, a longer and narrower box than some of the others, is up underneath a single window at the far end of the attic space. And there, sitting atop the box, is Hamid, staring out the window even though it’s pitch dark and he can’t possibly see anything.

Inhaling sharply with relief, shoulders relaxing, Zolf crosses the space. He’s still trying not to wake the sleepers, but he’s pretty sure Hamid can hear him. He sits at the other end of the box from Hamid. “Hey,” he says quietly.

“Hey,” Hamid says. He sounds the way he did in Paris after they destroyed Mr. Ceiling for real—weary and beaten-down. The thought makes Zolf hurt all the way through, partly hating himself for the person he was then and partly because Hamid’s got no reason to feel that way now and partly because it makes him think of Sasha, not that she’s far from his mind right now.

Hamid turns away from the window and looks in Zolf’s direction; he can’t possibly see him in the total lack of light, but Zolf can see him just fine. He almost looks worse than he sounds, and Zolf has a brief moment of wondering if he’s hurt worse than he’s letting on before he convinces himself he’s just being alarmist. It’s just the shadows and dim lighting making things seem worse than they are, combined with the stress of the last day.

Now that he’s here, Zolf has no idea where to start. He tries to think of the best way to begin, then gives up and decides to just say the first thing that pops into his head. The words that come out of his mouth remind him why it’s a bad idea to do that. “Did you seriously almost blow yourself up in Rome?”

Several emotions play across Hamid’s face, too fast for Zolf to read in the darkness. He expects a shrill protest, or an angry denial, or a stammering justification, but to his surprise, Hamid simply sighs and nods. “Sort of? We were fighting something invisible. It had just attacked me, so I knew it was near me, and Azu and Sasha weren’t, so...I cast a fireball centered on me. It should’ve been fine. I can stand up to fire pretty well, so I thought even if I couldn’t get out of the way fast enough, I’d be okay. But something in Rome made magic go...weird...and it was more powerful than I thought it would be. I got lucky, I guess.” He looks up at Zolf, and this time the look in his eyes is easy to read: guilt. Zolf’s not sure why. “When did Azu tell you about that?”

“She didn’t. I—” Zolf flounders for a moment. There’s got to be a better way of saying this. Finally, he just sighs and hands Hamid the letter.

Hamid makes a weary, practiced gesture, and Zolf blinks as the by-now familiar tiny dancing lights appear between them. Hamid blinks, too, then flinches. “Sorry,” he mumbles and starts to make the gesture to dismiss them.

Zolf reaches over and stops him. “It’s—fine. It’s fine,” he tells Hamid. “Nothing out there hunts by sight. Gragg says they can’t get in buildings anyway. I trust him. You’re fine.”

Hamid swallows and nods. Now that the lights are there, Zolf can see him a little better, and he reevaluates his previous assessment. Hamid does look worse than he sounds. He looks either ill or injured, with dark hollows under his eyes, which have a slightly bruised look to them, his skin ashen. There’s a smudge on his forehead of dirt or slime or blood or some combination of the three, he looks like he’s run his hands through his hair in frustration or despair, and his ever-present eyeliner is smeared down his cheeks.

It hits Zolf all at once that he’s literally never seen Hamid not perfectly groomed. Even in the catacombs under Paris, when he’d been injured and panicking, his first instinct had been a shaky prestidigitation to clean himself up. He fusses over his appearance more than anyone Zolf has ever met, with the possible exception of Wilde, and he remembers that Wilde always looked worse off than he was when he couldn’t use his own prestidigitation. It’s no wonder Hamid looks sick. Zolf resists the urge to comment on it and simply waits.

Hamid sucks in a sharp breath as he starts to read, and even more color drains from his face. His eyes fill with tears, but to Zolf’s slight surprise, they don’t fall. He smiles briefly a couple of times, barely more than a flicker, but Zolf also sees him retreat slightly into himself. And Zolf can tell when he gets to the part after they got separated coming back to Rome, because Hamid’s hands start shaking, ever so faintly.

When he reaches the end—apparently—he stares at the paper for a long moment, much like Zolf did, then takes a deep breath, folds the letter back up, and hands it back to Zolf. Zolf isn’t sure whether to be impressed or worried that Hamid hasn’t dissolved into a complete emotional mess.

“She’s right,” he says softly, and his voice is choked and shaking, but he’s not actually crying. “I was just a dumb kid. Still am, I guess.” He looks up at Zolf. “I keep—I think I’m getting better, and then I do something utterly stupid because I think I know what I’m doing, and then I argue with you when you call me out on it. And then I have the nerve to act like you’re—” He chokes off the word and looks away, taking a couple more deep breaths.

Zolf realizes, all of a sudden, what Hamid is doing. He’s trying to stop himself from crying, because he doesn’t want to be overly emotional. He’s trying to be sensible and practical and, well, grown-up about this.

Before he can say anything, Hamid looks back up at him. “I’m not—I’m not trying to justify why I’m right. I just want you to know where I...” He swallows. “When I was growing up, if I made a mistake or—o-or did something wrong, no matter what it was or how bad it was, all I had to do was admit it was wrong and apologize, and everything would be forgiven and it would go away. Like it never happened. And you—you’re kind of the opposite? At least, that’s how it looks to me sometimes. If something goes wrong, it’s in the past. Apologizing for it or—or acknowledging that it might have been a mistake doesn’t change that it was done, so there’s no reason to. Just...move on and try to do better the next time. And I know that’s the better way to handle it, but—”

“It’s not,” Zolf interrupts, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s—look, I don’t have all the answers either, you know. I act like I do, but deep down, I’m just as scared. And I don’t always know the right thing to do. When we were in Paris, I spent three days in my room wallowing, blaming myself for everything that went wrong, every mistake I’d ever made, not just the whole Mr. Ceiling thing, you remember that? The more we went on, the more I questioned everything I’d ever done, and by the time we got to Prague, I couldn’t get away from the doubts. So I walked away, from Sasha and from you, because I didn’t trust myself not to repeat my mistakes. And then Wilde tracked me down and told me you’d gone to Rome and you were gone and...” He swallows hard. “Look, you know how Sasha talks about her...shutting down and just blanking out? I did that, too, I reckon. I blamed myself, thought if I’d just stayed you’d have been okay, but...at that point, Wilde needed an ally and I needed a purpose, so I shut out the past and focused on the present. And it was easier to live like that, for a while, so I just kept doing it and it got worse.” He tries to smile. “There’s got to be something in between, right? Something between ignoring the past and dwelling on it?”

“Yeah,” Hamid says softly, looking down at his hands. They’re dirty, too, smeared with plant matter and ichor and grease, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “And there’s got to be something between acting like acknowledging a mistake makes it all go away and acting like—”

“—like not acknowledging it also makes it all go away,” Zolf completes. “And I think there’s got to be something between ‘this was the only right answer’ and ‘this was the right answer with the information we had so it’s fine,’ yeah? Like your fireball in Rome. You didn’t think that was the only solution, did you?”

“No,” Hamid whispers. “It was a calculated risk. And I didn’t think about magic going...screwy. But I wouldn’t have done it if Sasha or Azu or Einstein had been close enough that it would have hit them. I was the only one in danger, so I thought it would be okay.”

Zolf’s heart lurches, and he has to try twice before he can speak. “If you ever decide to do something like that again...just make sure I can’t see you, all right?”

Hamid looks up at Zolf and attempts to smile. “So you don’t have to yell at me?”

“So I don’t have to maybe watch you die.” Zolf keeps his voice down with an effort. “I can’t—I can’t do that, Hamid. Seeing Wilde’s body after the crash, I—that was bad. That was real bad. If I’d had to actually see it happen? I don’t know that even pushing things into the past would’ve helped. And next to Wilde, you’re the person I’d like to think I’m closest to. I don’t want to watch anyone die if I can help it, but you? Please don’t make me do that.” He swallows hard. “It’s why I took the risk of having us jump into the plant. I thought it would just...lead us straight through to wherever it was connected to, but it was that or watch you torn apart by a bunch of evil trees, and I was not going to risk that. So yeah, it was a bad idea and if I’d known what I know now I would have tried to come up with a third option, but with what we knew then, it was the best hope I had of not losing everything I cared about. Again.”

Hamid makes a tiny, pained noise that sounds like it might be a sob and goes straight to Zolf’s heart. He presses his lips tightly together for a moment, obviously forces back an emotional response, then nods. “I promise. And—and I promise not to yell like that again. I’m sorry. I am. I got scared and I took it out on you and that wasn’t fair.”

“I accept your apology, and I forgive you. And I’m not great with the whole...talking thing, but I promise I’ll try in the future.” Zolf takes a quick breath. “I do forget how young you are sometimes. And I don’t mean that as an insult, just...I forget you don’t always have the experience of the world to understand why I make the decisions I do, and then I get annoyed with you for questioning them, and that’s not fair, either. I’m sorry for that.”

“You don’t—I accept your apology, and I forgive you,” Hamid half-whispers. Zolf can tell he’s not just parroting the words, he’s sincere about them. And he appreciates that Hamid stopped himself from saying you don’t have to apologize. Because Zolf did have to apologize, and they both know it. Hamid looks down at the letter again. “She’s right about that, too. I did—I do need you. I’m...you make me a better person.”

“No,” Zolf says, putting the weight of an entire lifetime’s experience behind his words. “Nobody else can make someone a better person. You make you a better person, Hamid. I just believe you can be one.”

Hamid’s head comes up abruptly, and he stares at Zolf in genuine shock. Zolf is terrible at...people, and emotions, and all that, he doesn’t usually get them, but Hamid’s emotions are so close to the surface and so genuine that even he can read them. Nobody has ever told Hamid anything like that, ever, and Zolf is the last person he would have ever expected to hear it from.

And something inside Zolf breaks.

He reaches out and pulls Hamid into a hug, tighter and more desperate than the one he gave him right after the first quarantine all those weeks ago. Hamid hugs him back just as tightly, burying his face in Zolf’s shoulder. Zolf feels the tears begin hitting his skin, reminding him in a remote, distant way that that purple thing dissolved his shirt and coat and he’s sitting around in nothing but his breastplate, but he pushes the thought out of his mind for the moment.

“She’s right,” he says into Hamid’s hair. “I am proud of you. You stood up for yourself, and you stood up for Sasha. You didn’t give in even when it would’ve been the easiest thing in the world. And back there, in Svalbard? You did a good job. You kept your head and you didn’t argue, you figured out what that device was and how to use it. And you made sure the rest of us stayed safe. I might argue with you, I might yell, but I will never not be proud of you.”

Hamid cries harder. His emotions are usually loud and messy, but whether because he’s trying to keep quiet or for some other reason, his tears are silent. “I missed you,” he whispers, the words muffled into Zolf’s shoulder. “I missed you and I was scared something would happen to you in Prague, and then I got back from Rome and Einstein told us how long it had been and what was going on and I was scared you were dead, and then I saw you again and I was—I was so angry at you and I don’t know why—”

“It’s because I wasn’t there,” Zolf says with a rare flash of insight. “It’s because I left and suddenly everybody around you started getting hurt and dying, and then you came back and everything was different, and you didn’t know what was going on. You were confused and scared, and when you get scared these days you get angry. And I was there to be a good target. You couldn’t be angry at Azu because Azu was angry too, but me—”

“You were safe,” Hamid says softly. “I—I trusted that I could be angry at you, because I knew you’d—you’d let me be angry and we could still be friends after I was done.”

Zolf tightens his arms around Hamid, recognizing the truth in his words. “I missed you, too, you know. As soon as I walked away, I regretted it. If I could’ve taken you both with me, as stupid as that sounds, I would have, but I had to be on my own to get right. But I hadn’t been gone three days before I knew I’d be back. And then you were gone, they told me you were gone for good, and I—I wasn’t lying when I said I’d mourned for you both, but I never gave up hope. I’ve been studying the planes—I was determined, when I had a moment, I was going to go looking for you. I just, I couldn’t leave Wilde and...”

“No, I get it. I get it.” Hamid squeezes him again, then eases back and manages a weak smile up at him. “Thank you. For trying. For not giving up. Maybe...maybe that’s the only reason any of us made it back, was because you had hope.”

“Maybe.” Zolf settles back as well and manages a smile back. “I’m not giving up on her, just so you know. Even though we got that letter from her when she was older...I’m not giving up. Maybe someday...”

“Yeah. Maybe not any time soon, but someday.” Hamid wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. The gesture makes him look impossibly young. “I’m not giving up either. I can’t. She wouldn’t have given up on us.” He pauses. “Zolf—she didn’t know you weren’t with Poseidon anymore.”

“Yeah, that’s probably why the letter came through the Poseidon lot,” Zolf says. “They’ve probably been looking for me since I walked away, so to speak.”

“No, I mean she didn’t know you weren’t with Poseidon. If she lit a candle at the Temple of Artemis for Grizzop every year, and her letter to all of us came through the Cult of Aphrodite...Zolf, what if that’s why Poseidon kept trying to help you?” Hamid’s eyes are wide. “Because Sasha asked him to? Would—is that how it works?”

Ice water floods through Zolf’s veins, and he mutters a word in Dwarfish he hasn’t said since the cave-in. “It might. I don’t know. I’m not—”

“No, I’m not—I don’t think you should go back to him. I mean....clearly he wasn’t—maybe he was Sasha’s god, not yours. I just...wondered, that’s all.” Hamid rubs his face. He looks like he’s lost a fight with a fireplace, there’s so much dirt and kohl smeared over his cheeks.

“Maybe...Hamid, you sure you aren’t hurt?” Zolf gestures to his own face. “You...look a mess.”

“I...oh.” Hamid looks embarrassed. “Sorry, and I—it’s all over you, too. Here.” He snaps his fingers, producing the familiar flurry of handkerchiefs, which set to work on both Hamid and Zolf.

Zolf unbuckles his breastplate and sets it aside, wincing at the sticky sound as it peels away from his chest and the last fragments of his shirt and jacket fall away. “Thanks,” he says. “For the record, though, I wasn’t...complaining about you looking bad or whatever. I was just worried. Last time you didn’t immediately come out of a fight and tidy yourself up was...”

“Paris,” Hamid completes softly. “I know. I-it did feel...a bit like that, I guess. I just didn’t...I don’t know.” He glances over his shoulder uncertainly towards the other part of the room.

Zolf glances over, too. “They’ll be okay,” he assures Hamid, thinking he’s worrying about Cel. “Once I’ve had some rest, I can meditate and get access to a couple spells that’ll help. You and Azu, too. You said it hit you some?”

“Yeah,” Hamid says with a heavy sigh.

The handkerchiefs vanish, and Zolf sighs, too. “Right. C’mon, let’s go in the other room and get some sleep. You want to use the lights so you don’t trip?”

Hamid hesitates, for just a second, then says uncertainly, “N-no. No, I’m—I’m fine.” He snaps his fingers and the lights disappear. “Um...after you?”

Zolf stares at Hamid. He’s usually a skilled liar, almost on par with Wilde, but either because he’s tired or because of what that thing did to him, he’s not doing a very good job of it right now. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Hamid protests, even less convincingly.

“Hamid.”

It’s all he says, but it��s enough. Hamid’s shoulders slump. “I just...I don’t think I’m welcome in there right now. Azu’s mad at me. A-about the kobolds and—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Zolf interrupts. “She’s asleep right now, so she won’t be yelling at you. And she’s not....feeling well, is she? Whatever happened to you three, she’s—she’ll be fine once we get that taken care of.”

“She meant it, Zolf. She just wouldn’t have said it if she wasn’t...like this. And she wasn’t wrong.”

“She might not have been wrong, but that doesn’t mean she was right,” Zolf says firmly. He puts his hands on Hamid’s shoulders and looks him in the eye, despite knowing Hamid probably can’t see him. “Just like Sasha. Just like me. Just like you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Hamid whispers. Tears fill his eyes again. “I—I really didn’t—I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, Zolf. I’m sorry. I just—I guess I was still upset about what Aziza said and—”

“Wait, who—?” Zolf suddenly realizes that he wasn’t the only one who went through what he went through when they jumped through that plant. His shoulders slump slightly. “I’m sorry. I should’ve—we should’ve talked about this, but—”

“When have we had time?”

“Yeah, exactly. Look, I—when we jumped through that plant, before it tied us up and we fell through those planes?” Zolf sighs heavily. “I was back in the mines. With my brother. He blamed me for leaving, tried to convince me he’d still been alive when I...” He swallows. “So I was...kind of raw, too. Even though it was nothing I haven’t been saying to myself for decades. Even though I knew it wasn’t really him.”

“It wasn’t?” Hamid’s voice is small and fragile, like he was in the catacombs.

“Oh, Hamid.” Zolf hates this, hates every minute of it. “No, it wasn’t—it wasn’t them. Whoever you saw—your sister, right? The one who died in Prague?”

“Yeah. She—she said it was my fault she died. And that I hadn’t done enough to—after. That I was still making everything all about me and not—”

“Yeah, if it had really been her, she never would have said any of that, ‘cause it’s not true,” Zolf interrupts. “You were humming in the garden. I heard you. She was walking with you. That was really her. I could feel my brother with me too, I kept willing him to go away. Cel and Azu, I’m sure they were with someone they’ve lost too. What that—that thing showed us, that was a twisted version of them. Something to make us regret, make us give up. They were lies, Hamid. What happened to your sister, that’s not your fault. You did everything you could. Kafka’s the reason she died. Well, and maybe Bertie too.”

“I didn’t know that,” Hamid whispers. “About him—about Kafka giving him a choice.”

“Tell you what.” Zolf squeezes Hamid’s shoulders. “When this is all over, we’ll go find a necromancer, find where they’ve got Bertie buried, and have him turned into a zombie so we can kill him again ourselves.”

Hamid actually laughs, a bit wetly. “Only if you take the first shot.”

“Sure. We’ll use Sasha’s dagger.” Zolf pulls Hamid in for another hug. He’s not usually the touchy-feely, sort, but it’s just the two of them right now and Hamid’s one of three people he’d be willing to hug like this.

The fact that one of those people is someone he may never get the chance to hug again—or at all—makes his heart ache, but he tries not to think about it.

Hamid hugs him back, and Zolf feels him relax. After a few moments, he pulls back and manages a smile up at Zolf. “Thank you. For all of it.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” Zolf smiles back, then slides off the box. “Come on. You need rest.”

This time, Hamid slides off the box too, and he matches stride with Zolf as they head back into the other room. He starts to go off to one side, but Zolf doesn’t let him. Instead, he grabs a blanket and pulls him over to join the pile that is the rest of their friends. Hamid looks reluctant, but he doesn’t argue. Zolf’s glad. He’s tired and strained and really doesn’t want to have to try to choose which of the two people he cares about most he’s going to try and protect tonight.

Wilde half-stirs when Zolf settles down next to him, but doesn’t fully wake, just shifts slightly to lean against him and shoves the blanket in his direction. Zolf tucks the blanket he grabbed around Hamid before accepting the other half of Wilde’s blanket, and he doesn’t object when he feels Hamid’s head drop onto his shoulder.

“Night, Dad,” Hamid mumbles, sounding more than half asleep.

A lump comes into Zolf’s throat. He has to try twice before he can choke out the words. “Night, Hamid.”

With one hand resting on Hamid’s head and the other gripping Wilde’s hand tightly, Zolf closes his eyes and drifts into sleep, feeling, for the first time in almost two years, like some of the grief has been lifted from his heart.

#ollie writes fanfic #rq gaming #rqg #Zolf Smith #hamid saleh haroun al tahan #angst and feels #spoilers for the entire podcast #we love our grumpy sea dad

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nothingbutimagines · 3 years

Text

The Holidate (Steve Rogers)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: Cursing, fluff, lots of bickering and pining

Summary: After Y/n’s grandmother has been hounding her to get a boyfriend, Y/n convinces Steve, the only team member alone on Christmas and her slight enemy, to go with her to her family’s Christmas Eve dinner.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: On the second day of ficmas, my fanfic writer gave to me two characters fake dating on Christmas Eve. Tomorrow is Roommate!Tom Holland x Reader and yesterday was Peter Parker x Reader. As always, requests are open and happy holidays to you all!

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

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“Yes, Grandma, I will be bringing my boyfriend with me.” You said softly, holding your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you folded clothes and placed them into your overnight bag. “Yes, he’s very handsome, of course. His name? It’s uh-”

Steve walked into the view of your doorway, knocking on the door frame softly, his eyebrow raised at you.

“It’s Steve. Yes, Steve. Cute, right? Listen, I have to go, but I will call you when we are on our way, okay?” You gave Steve a slight wave as you straightened up, holding the phone away from your face. “Love you too. Bye.”

You let out a heavy sigh, tossing your phone on the bed before turning to Steve.

“You think I’m cute?” He asked, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“Ew, as if.” You turned away, starting to fold your clothing once again. “I know you didn’t come here to eavesdrop on me and my grandmother. What do you want?”

“Well, this handsome man-”

“I never called you handsome.”

“I came here to inform you that everyone has left for the holidays, so this wing of the compound is about to be very cold since Tony wants to save electricity while everyone is out for the week.”

“Are you leaving, Steve?”

“No, I don’t have any plans. I just thought I’d stay here. Why?”

“How would you like to attend Christmas Eve dinner with my family?” You asked, turning to him with a glowing smile on your face.

“What’s the catch?”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the door frame as he studied the look on your face, attempting to read your expression as your smile fell slightly.

“Why would there be a catch?”

“Oh, come on, Y/n, you never do acts of kindness without something in return.”

You scoffed. “That is so not true! I do nice things all the time.”

“Yesterday, you gave me the extra burrito you had gotten at Chipotle and didn’t finish and then five minutes later, I got your Venmo request for the apparent four dollars and seventy-eight cents I ate.”

You laughed. “I only do that stuff to you cause it’s funny, but I didn’t think you’d hold a grudge about it.”

“It’s not a grudge-” Steve sighed and rolled his eyes. “Enough about yesterday. What is the catch in coming to meet your family?”

You zipped up your bag and looked at him sheepishly.

“I hope you’re a good actor because you have to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Steve let out a laugh and shook his head. “I’d rather be alone on the holiday than pretend to be your boyfriend.”

“You forgot to say ‘no offense.’”

“No, I hope you do take offense. I’m not going and I hope you’re bothered.”

“I am! Steve, come on! I already told my grandmother you were coming. Please, I will do anything if you do me just this one favor.”

Steve raised a brow. “Really?”

You raised your hand and nodded. “Really. Scout’s honor.”

“You weren’t even a scout.”

“Uh, yeah, I was. I was a girl scout for like three years.” You argued. “Which is something you should know as my boyfriend.”

“I am not about to learn your life’s story just to be your fake boyfriend.”

“Yes, you are. We have a four hour drive ahead of us.” You replied, slinging your bag over your shoulder and slipping past him. “Now, let’s go get you some clothes and get the hell out of here. It’s already getting cold.”

“I think I can dress myself.”

“No you can’t.”

__________________

“I hate this sweater.” Steve stated, tugging at the woven fabric as he shifted in his seat.

“Oh my god, shut up about the sweater! It looks nice!”

“It’s so stiff and itchy. There’s a reason it was in the back of my closet.”

“Could you sound anymore like a child?” You snapped. “Also, when I said we were driving, I was hoping you’d get behind the wheel.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest as you glanced away from the road and at him.

“Well, you’re the one who kidnapped me, so you have to drive. It’s only fair.”

“I didn’t even kidnap you! You came willingly.”

“That was before you made me wear this sweater!” Steve groaned, sinking into the car seat slightly. “It was also before I found out when you said you’d do anything for me in return, that meant you’d only wash my car and nothing else.”

“I don’t know why you expected me to willingly do paperwork for the next four days!”

“Because you said you’d do anything!”

“Ugh! We both know I’m liar!”

“You’ve got that right.”

You sighed heavily, moving your hands on the steering wheel. “I don’t know why I even asked you to do this. I should’ve asked Vision. At least he knows my last name.”

“I know your last name.”

“When I asked you what my last name was, you said Gatsby!”

“I know it now.” Steve corrected himself. “And of course Vision knows your last name! He’s a machine! Like a microwave!”

“I’d rather have a microwave who knows my last name as a fake boyfriend.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Do you even know my last name?” Steve challenged, turning down the music that was playing on the stereo.

“It’s Rogers.”

“Oh, so you do know.”

“Yeah, I do know.” You scoffed, leaning forward and turning the music back up. “How about we just sit and listen to music for the last thirty minutes of this car ride?”

Steve turned down the music again and looked over at you. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say if your family asks how we met.”

“Easy. Just say we met at work.”

“Wouldn’t that be weird? Since I’m your boss?”

“Actually, Fury is my boss. You’re just like the one coworker who thinks he’s the manager when the manager isn’t there.”

“I am not!”

“Newsflash, asshole, you’ve been on the same playing field as us all the whole time!”

“Language.”

“Who are you? My father?” You refrained from rolling your eyes. “Let’s just get this story straight and we’ll worry about your old man attitude later.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that last part.”

“Anyway,” You started, “we will just say that we met at work and we’ve only been dating a few months now, but I’m bringing you because you don’t have any family to see on the holidays.”

“Oh, so I’m the sad orphan you’re saving? That’s the lie we’re going with?”

“Are you dying of fucking dementia, grandpa?” You asked, the sarcasm thick in your voice. “I literally didn’t make up a lie, it was all true!”

“Oh. Right.”

“Yeah. Just tell the truth, you know, minus the part where we are not dating.” You insisted. “And try to remember my last name, for the love of God.”

“It’s Y/l/n, I know. I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Never. Now you can see why when I said I’d do anything, I wasn’t going to do just anything.”

Your phone buzzed in the cup holder between you and you reached your hand down to grab it, instead grabbing something else soft and warm. You pulled your hand away, glancing over to see Steve’s hand already on your phone.

“You know, Y/n, if you wanted to hold hands, you could’ve just asked. We are dating after all.”

“Shut up. Just hand me my phone so I can read my text message. It might be from my mom.”

You reached for the phone in Steve’s hands, your other hand still on the wheel and your eyes on the road as he slapped your hand away lightly.

“No way. You’re driving. I’ll read it to you.” He insisted, attempting to open your phone before looking at you. “I need your face to open your phone.”

“There is a password. It’s ‘Steve sucks major dong’. all lowercase, no space.”

“That didn’t work.”

“I know it wouldn’t. I just wanted to say it.” You chuckled. “The password is ‘there is no password’, no spaces, all lowercase.”

“Clever.” Steve replied, now looking intently at your phone before reading out loud, “Peter aka Spiderboy says that he washed the car you asked him to and even waxed it since he thought it would look nice, so you can just venmo him his twenty dollars.”

“Oh, good. I didn’t think he’d get that done until the weekend.”

“You paid Tony’s little mentor kid to wash my car, didn’t you?” Steve asked, setting your phone down back in the cup holder.

“Of course I did. You didn’t really think I’d do it myself, did you? It so much easier to pay some kid cash than do it myself.”

“Fair point.”

You took a turn into the driveway of your parent’s house, sighing heavily as you put the car into park and turned to Steve.

“Listen to me,” You ordered, poking him in the chest. “If you so much as hint at the fact that we aren’t actually dating, I will kill you. Don’t call me pet names, don’t annoy me. We just need to make it through the next two days and we’ll never have to speak of this again.”

“Hold on. The next two days?” Steve’s eyes were wide as they met yours.

“Why the fuck did you think I packed you a bag?”

“I don’t know! Just in case I spill on myself?”

“Are you a baby? Do you need a diaper bag?” You mocked, your attitude clearly annoyed. “How often do you spill on yourself?”

“Well, never, but maybe now I might! Maybe I might because I’m nervous now that you’re holding me hostage in the middle of nowhere!”

“You are so dramatic, my God!” You groaned, unbuckling yourself before swinging open your door and jumping out of the car. “Just grab your bag so we can go inside.”

You opened the door to the backseat, now face to face with Steve who was on the other side, grabbing his own bag and coat. You stuck your tongue out at him, only to cause him to roll his eyes before you both closed your doors and you locked the car. You made your way around to Steve’s side of the car, holding your hand out to him.

“What are you doing?”

“Hold my hand.” You ordered, waving your hand at him.

“I don’t want to hold your hand.”

“Suck it up. You have to. We have to look like we’re together.”

“I hate you so much.”

“Shut up and hold it already!” You cried, waving your hand wildly before he took your hand in his. “Thank you.”

“Don’t talk to me.”

You guided him down the walkway and up the stairs onto your parent’s front porch. You leaned forward, ringing the doorbell before looking up at Steve, who had a strong frown on his face. You yanked his hand lightly, causing him to look at you.

“Smile. Look like you love me.” You whispered as the front door opened, to reveal your mother and father. “Mom, dad! Hi!”

“Y/n, honey, it’s so good to see you.” You mother beamed, looking between you and Steve. “Oh, you must be Steve! Y/n has told us so much about you!”

Steve raised a brow, a smirk on his face as he looked at you. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, of course! She thinks you are just the cutest and I can see why.”

“Mom, come on.” You groaned, feeling as though you were back in your teens, bringing home your high school boyfriend to meet your parents.

“Oh, hush, just let us have a chance to tease you.” She laughed, touching your shoulder as you slipped into the house past her.

“Yeah, sweetheart, let us have our fun.” Steve agreed, following you inside.

“Oh, Steve, Y/n’s father will take both of your bags to your room.” Your mother said, your father taking your bag from you and taking Steve’s as well. “I need to go check on the ham, but make yourselves at home! Everyone is in the living room.”

You nodded as your two parents departed before turning to Steve, taking your hand from him. “Sweetheart? Really?”

“I was trying to sound like a boyfriend.”

“It was weird. Please, don’t do that again. Just, just don’t call me pet names.”

“If I can’t call you pet names, what do I call you?” Steve asked as he followed you down the hallway to the living room.

“Just call me by my name, okay?” You nodded, flashing a smile before turning forward, walking into the living room.

“Y/n!” Your grandmother beamed, causing the rest of the room to turn and face you.

“Hello, Grandma. Hello, everyone, this is Steve. My, uh-”

“Her boyfriend. Nice to meet you all.” Steve gave a small wave to the room as you took a seat down on the couch besides your grandmother, Steve following your lead.

You gave your grandmother a quick kiss, sinking into the couch as Steve sat beside you.

“He’s very handsome.” Your grandmother whispered, leaning in close to you and gave you a quick wink. “Good job.”

You gave her a shy smile. “Thank you, Gran.”

“It’s uh, very nice to meet you, ma’am.” Steve spoke up, leaning forward to look past you.

“Oh, you too, honey. And might I say, you are cute as a button. If I was a few years younger, I’d swoon for you just as Y/n here has.”

“Okay, Gran. Let’s not embarrass Steve.”

“Oh, I’m not embarrassed.” Steve corrected, a hand on his chest, “I’m flattered, actually. But that blush on your cheeks might indicate you are the one embarrassed.”

Your mother walked into the living room, her smile bright as she clapped her hands together, gathering the attention of everyone in the room.

“Alright! Dinner is ready if you all are hungry.”

“Thank God.” You stood up, smoothing out the fabric of your pants as you took a deep breath. “Come on, Steve.”

“Coming.” Steve stood up and followed you threw the entrance to the kitchen.

“Oh, look who’s under the mistletoe!” Your grandmother beamed as you both stopped to look back at her.

“Oh, Grandma, please.” You shook your head. “It’s just a silly tradition.”

“Oh nonsense, Y/n, it’s fun.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s just a funny tradition.” Steve smirked, grabbing your hand and pulling you close to him before kissing you softly.

You hummed, shocked by the gesture before melting a bit at the sensation of his lips on yours. You put your hand on his chest before pulling away, only to realize you were the only ones left in the hallway.

"If you ever kiss me like that again-" You whispered, your voice almost a hiss as you followed him down the hallway.

"Shut up, you liked it, you opened your mouth for tongue."

"I did not!" You retorted.

"Then why'd you lick mine when I stuck it in your mouth?" Steve questioned, looking back at you with a matter of fact look on his face.

"Just don't kiss me, alright?"

“So now I can’t kiss you? How do you expect us to fake date if I can’t even properly pretend?”

“You just want an excuse to kiss me, don’t you, Steve?”

“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t like that, too.”

“I can like the action of kissing without liking the person.” You stated, turning away from him as you grabbed a dinner plate, piling on the food you wanted before following the rest of the group into the dining room.

“Y/n, Steve, we left a spot open for you two so you can sit together.” Your mother motioned towards you.

You took a seat between Steve and your grandmother, sandwiched between them and wishing you hadn’t picked the spot as you looked around the table, your parents sitting at the two heads and you older brother and his girlfriend sitting across from you with your younger sister sandwiched between them.

“So,” Your mother started, looking at the two of you, “how did you two meet?”

“We met at work.” You stated simply, not looking up from your plate as you pushed around your food.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked Steve. Steve, how did you two meet?”

“Uh,” Steve looked over at you for reassurance, only to receive a confused expression in response, “we met at work, Y/n is right, but it wasn’t as simple as that. I think when we first met, we kind of butted heads a lot and bickered all the time.”

Steve glanced over at you, taking your hand in his. “You know how Y/n is, she teases everyone, and I think for a while I thought she just hated me, but then I figured out she was really only ever teasing me because she liked me. I don’t know if it was romantic or not, but I knew I liked her romantically. It was kind of a no-brainer, whether or not to ask her out. So, I did. She laughed in my face, of course, but when she realized I was serious, she reciprocated the sentiment and said yes.”

You watched Steve as he spoke, your hand warming up in his as you sat silently. You were amazed by the story, almost believing it yourself. He may not have known your last name until earlier in the day, but in that moment, you realized just how observant he was of you along with how easy you were to read.

It was true, you had only ever teased and tormented Steve because you liked him, but you were never sure if it was romantic interest in him that had you acting the way you did.

Sure, Steve was handsome and kind and he was easy to talk to when you actually talked to him and he never quite put up with your shit, but did you like him?

Your eyes grew wide with realization as you quickly turned down to your plate and began eating quietly.

“Y/n? Did you hear me?” Your mother asked.

“No, I’m sorry, I was lost in thought. What?”

“Did you tease Steve because you liked him romantically?” She asked. “Like a school boy pulling a girl’s pigtails?”

You shrugged, stabbing a piece of ham with your fork. “I don’t know. I think at the time, I didn’t really realize how much I really liked him romantically. You know how I am, I’m not the romantic type.”

“But somehow she sure did fall in love with me, right, doll?” Steve asked, putting a hand on your head, brushing through you hair.

You nodded against his head, swallowing hard. “Yeah, yes! I did. I love Steve quite a lot.”

“Oh, well that’s so sweet. John, your turn, tell us about this lovely lady right here.” Your mother turned her attention to your older brother, taking the spotlight away from you and Steve.

“Oh thank god.” You let out the breath you were holding and looked at Steve. “You’re a really good liar, you know that?”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He whispered back. “We should fake date more often, maybe at restaurants for those free desserts you get on your anniversary.”

“I can’t stand you.”

“Oh, I think you can.” Steve chuckled. “You did say you love me ‘quite a lot.’”

“I was lying, just like you did with your little story.”

“But was I fully lying there?” Steve leaned in close to you, his face close to yours.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“You like me, don’t you, sweetheart?” He leaned in a little closer

“As if.”

“Oh really? Because the closer I’ve gotten, the pinker your face has gotten.”

“Don’t make me say it, Steve.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. The way you kissed me earlier has said enough.”

“You kissed me first.”

“And I’ll do it again.”

134 notes · View notes

blue-writes-things · 3 years

Text

Loved By A Heartbreaker | Chapter Two

Sirius Black x Reader | Fluff

“…You know sometimes I still get afraid of what’s around me, but I feel safer when I’m with you.”

| Masterlist | Series Masterlist |

Words: 1743 A/N: the 3 written chapters are all up here! just working on the mastlist post now (doing a few of them) chapter 4 is coming alone! I’ve jsut been kinda busy so I can’t write much new stuff, but I’m going to be posting all my old stuff here! Inspo Playlist

Feedback is always appreciated! - Blue

Lily and James dating was cute

Remus being genuinely happy single was sweet

Peter trying to date was disturbing at best

Sirius trying to date you was tiring

You and Lily were the first out of your friend group to get to the great hall for breakfast.

But the calm chatter in the hall was disturbed as The Marauders came racing into the room and sat down as fast as they could.

“Ha! Wormy you lost” Sirius taunted as Peter finally sat down “Have fun cleaning under James’s bed” Peter didn’t seem to care in that moment, he was more focused on not passing out, he was quite the sight, sweating, red faced and panting (Even though it’s not even that far from the Gryffindor Tower to the great hall)

“Seems we got three dogs here by the way he’s panting” James laughed getting playfully shoved by both Sirius and Remus.

“And good morning to you” You and Lily laughed.

Sirius wrapped his arm around your shoulders “Good morning, marshmallow”

No one in the group wasn’t laughing.

“I think that’s the worst one yet Pads” you said as everyone started calming down “Do you even know what a marshmallow is?”

Since Sirius grew up in a very pureblood environment he didn’t know much about the muggle world, cause if he even looked at something not ‘drenched in abracadabra’ he would get punished. So the little he knew mostly came from you and Lily.

“Yes! You use them to make s’mores” He looked rather proud of himself for knowing that “And I call you marshmallow, as I want s’more of you” He winked, everyone at the table was groaning at the pun.

“You’re driving me wild with these nicknames Siri” You shake your head, shrugging his arm off you “And you’re driving me wild” he smirks and winks, he loves twisting your words into a flirt.

“You walked into that one Y/n” James laughed, making the group laugh along with him. The conversation continued cheerfully. Sirius slipping his hand to your knee, you had raised your eyebrow at him, but didn’t move his hand. Just to tease him. Not because it felt nice, cause it didn’t. Right?

A familiar owl flew down to your group, it was The Noble and Most Ancient House of Assholes’s owl, as Sirius untied the letter getting a small nip from the owl, the rest of the group were exchanging knowing looks.

“You don’t have to open it Sirius” Remus gave a smile, everyone went back to their food and didn’t stare or intrude on the conversation.

“I know I don’t have to, and I probably shouldn’t, but what if it’s important?” Sirius turned the letter over, looking at the family's wax stamp. You quickly snatched it from his hand and slid it into your robes

“Important or not, you can read it later. We have History Of Magic in three minutes, and it’s on the other side of the castle, so we better haul ass if we wanna get there in time and not get a detention”

Sirius was about to object but before he could, James called “Pads! Wormy! last too class has to clean under Peter’s bed”

And he took off, Sirius going after him straight away “Oi! Tosser that’s cheating!” He calls after him laughing. Peter, who’s face had only just turned back to sickly white. “Why am I always roped into this?” he sighs before taking off as well.

You, Lily and Remus smile standing up walking out of the hall “Do you think they’ll realise we have half an hour till class?”

The three of you laugh “Ok, but question for you, why are the consequences cleaning under eachothers beds?” Lily asked

“There’s some scary shit under them, socks are even too scared to go under them” He almost shudders.

“What do you mean ‘scary shit’? What’s under them?” Lily asked as you turned a corner “You don’t wanna know Lily, I’ve been in there, the beds growl at night”

“Wait, why were you in the boys dorm?” She smirks, her mind went to you and Sirius ‘having fun’ yeah no, that will never happen. You and Remus look at eachother, knowing the real reason

You know about Remus’s ‘furry little problem’ and have helped him at night several times, mostly on bad nights when the other boys are exhausted too. You’ll stay there till Remus is asleep and sneak back to your dorm which is difficult, since it looks like Filch’s office is on their floor (It probably is)

You really didn’t want to give Sirius the letter, knowing it would upset him, you just hoped he forgot about it. As curfew hits and the gang are all ‘winding down’ which is doing what you all normally do, just in the common room.

You and Sirius were sitting rather comfortably together, you were on a single armchair and he was on the floor in front of the chair so you could tie his hair up for bed, so ‘My lushes locks aren't a mess in the morning’ although he just liked you playing with his hair though (But he would never admit it out loud) . You were the only person he would let touch his hair.

“Hey Y/n? can I have my letter?” He tilted his head up to look at you “Say please” You tease with a smirk, he playfully rolls his eyes at you “Pretty please” he gives you puppy dog eyes, something you could rarely say no to. You pass it to him, pulling his hair out of it’s bun and starting again, giving him head scratches every so often, knowing he loved it when you did that.

He opened it and the classic Sirius grin face fell slightly. He scoffs, throwing the letter into the fire before sitting back against the chair.

“You ok- “ James started after seeing the whole scene play out but Sirius cut him off “Yeah, I’m all good Prongs, just the normal shit, nothing interesting” he shrugs.

The group goes quiet for a moment before Lily fills the silence. “Everyone finished the Herbology paper? It’s due tomorrow” Everyone nodded, except you, your eyes went wide “It’s due tomorrow?”

“Yeah?” Lily questions

“I thought it was next week! Oh merlin” You slump forward “Welp, I’m going to be up past 3am”

Looking at the clock above the fireplace “Urg, you guys should head to bed. Don’t wanna be around when I have my breakdown” everyone chuckles

“You sure you don’t want someone to stay with you?” Remus frowns “I could stay up and help if you want?”

“That’s very kind Rem, but I promise I’ll be ok” You smile “Now go to bed!” You shoo everyone away and summon some parchment, a quill and your Herbology book, before shuffling over to the coffee table by the fire. Sirius came over and sat next to you, before you could object he put his finger to your lips, shushing you “I’m not leaving, don’t bother trying” he smiles with a wink.

The two of you talked for a bit while you did your work, before falling into a comfortable silence. It was nice to have Sirius being chill, not flirting or touching you. Strangely, it made you a bit nervous, something about his postuare, how his hair was a mess. Even though you had just put it up he seemed like he was off in a far away land and not next to you.

“Sirius?” You said softly but he just continued to stare into the fire “Siri?” You repeated a little louder. Still nothing.

“Padfoot?” You used his nickname, maybe that would help bring him out of it quicker but he didn’t even flinch. At this point you were getting scared.

You knew in the back of your head this would be a dumb thing to do. But the stressed out front of your brain was screaming at you to help him. “Pads?” You slowly and gently place your hand on the one Sirius had laid on the table next to you and that snapped him out of it.

He instantly jolted, letting out a snarl and grabbed your wrist in a death grip, his nails digged into your skin, leaving indents on your wrist from his nails. “Siri, It’s just me, Y/n” His brain seemed to be trying to process who you were, but something was clouding his mind.

“Sirius, you're at Hogwarts. It’s just me and you. You are safe”

Those last three words seemed to clear his vision. His eyes softened, the tight grip he had on your wrist changed from ‘I’m going to break your wrist’ into ‘I’m going to break’

“Safe?” Sirius whispered so softly you almost missed it.

“Yes safe, you’re safe with me” Moving slowly you take his hand, removing it from breaking your wrist and intertwining your fingers together, giving his hand a soft reassuring squeeze. “I’m safe.”

This time it was more like he was making a statement to himself. You gave him a gentle smile and nodded your head.

You placed your other hand to his cheek, he flinched at first but when he realized you weren’t going to hurt him. He leaned into your hand closing his eyes.

That gesture is what made a tear fall down your cheek. That this hurt and scared boy trusted you enough to close his eyes. Knowing you weren’t going to hurt him in any way. Knowing you would only do the opposite, keep him safe from harm, you pull him into a hug, he buries his face in the crook of your neck and bunches your shirt in his hands.

“You know sometimes I still get afraid of what’s around me, but I feel safer when I’m with you.“ He mumbled as he started to settle down, it was clear that he was still shaken by whatever he was thinking about, but being in your warm embrace, mixed with your words, he felt safe.

“You know, Sirius, I’m gonna be real with you. Sometimes I find you a real pain in the arse, but you are one of my closest friends. And I hope you know I’m always here for you” you gave him a small kiss on his temple, you knew he didn’t want pity, in fact he hated being pitied, he needed a friend.

Sirius Black is going to be safe with you

88 notes · View notes

averykedavra · 3 years

Note

“I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!” logince? no pressure if you can't but if you can i look forward to reading it!

(Em, I know I’m answering this, but you better not read this ‘cause you said you’d be offline. You’re forbidden. Go do work now. And yes, this is really long, and yes I should have spread my work out to other prompts, but here I am.)

Words: 7922

Despite everything, this wasn’t even the worst errand that Janus had sent Logan on.

That would be the harpy feathers, which had taken three weeks and three cut fingers to obtain. Or perhaps the dragon scales--the ones the merchant tried to sell Logan were fakes, forcing him to track down the culprit before sundown. Or perhaps the chimera egg, because chimera eggs didn’t exist. No matter if Janus insisted that Logan should be ‘open to the possibility.’

So, yes, this errand wasn’t the worst of them all. However, it was still up there. Another horrible day to add to his never-ending laundry list. And he had a feeling this would go farther downhill than he expected, because they always did.

Especially when dealing with other witches.

“The spell can’t work without it,” Janus had said, barely paying attention. He was occupied with shaking his magic quill until it stopped replacing es with os. “Be back by dinner.”

Logan had pled, bargained, and complained as much as he could. But Janus, as always, said something about “building character” and “honing his skills” and shoved him out the door. So Logan gathered up his cloak, his pride, and headed for the port.

The one upside of such ridiculous errands was seeing the outside. He usually spent his time studying in the cottage or the garden, but when he reached the foot of the mountain, the port sprawled in front of him. Roads teeming with visitors, some in clothing of nearby villages, others in richer colors than anyone could drain from local berries. Beneath the sphinx-grey sky, the boats flanked the water, masts bristling into the sky and sails full and white like wings.

Logan allowed himself a few moments to stare. To drink in the sounds--languages he didn’t recognize, babbling like brooks--and the smell of baking bread and fresh fabric. A cry blossomed from one dock as a ship slid into the harbor, sails flying, just come back from the sea.

Then a bicycle flew past Logan, splattered his boots with mud, and successfully yanked him back into the real world. He shook himself, checked his candle--it had burned down to the first notch, blue flame merry even in the wind--and set off.

Janus hadn’t given him a map, as usual, and Logan didn’t have the time or the moonlight for a tracking spell. He knew he was aiming for the area near the warehouses, though, and he’d definitely know a coven when he saw it.

Probably. Maybe. It had been a while.

Logan kept to the edges of the crowds. The sun wasn’t too piercing today, but he was still a bit warm in his cloak. He could have gone without it, of course, but it had pockets. Janus would start a lecture if he heard Logan was going without his materials. Still, as he began to get strange glances, he wished he’d just tried to shove everything into his pocket. Most people seemed to simply be curious why he was a bit overdressed. A few, though, looked suspicious enough to make Logan press closer to the buildings.

As he hoped, he knew the door when he saw it. The building somehow managed to list in both directions simultaneously, and when Logan looked closer at it, it folded into itself and tried to avoid detection. Logan pumped his fist in triumph and jumped across a ditch to the door.

It was an old oak door. Logan looked around in the vain hope that Janus would appear and offer directions--he was already feeling cold and uneasy on the stoop. Someone was definitely watching him. Or maybe it was just fear of the stories he’d been told as a kid.

Funny, that he was still scared of witches when he was one. But he was only in training, and there was a difference between witches and witches. Janus said it best. “One is trustworthy,” he’d say, “and two’s company. But three’s a crowd and four’s a coven. If you’re outnumbered, run the other way.”

Logan craned his neck up and peered at the dark, musty windows. How much was he outnumbered right now? Could he still bolt before they spotted him?

Janus would be insufferable if Logan came back empty-handed. And Janus was a jerk and a prick and a bit of a terrible mentor, but he wouldn’t actually lead Logan into danger. At least, Logan hoped not.

Logan swallowed, looked back at the door, and reached for the bronze knocker.

Then the bronze shifted and a mouth snapped at him. He yelped and stumbled back. A bronze toad blinked at him, the knocker between its legs.

“What do you think you’re doing?” complained the toad, beady eyes squinting. Logan stepped a bit further away. “Are you casing the joint? Hey!”

“No!” Logan made a shushing motion. “I’m--I’m just here to talk to someone, don’t--be quiet!”

“Stranger,” the toad said, giving him a belligerent look. “You haven’t been invited.”

“Can I go in anyway?”

“No.”

“Can I talk to someone other than a sentient door knocker?”

“No.”

Logan decided to go for it anyway. He braced himself, reached between the frog’s legs, and pulled up the knocker. When he let it fall, it made a deep thumping noise, so close to thunder that Logan checked the sky to see if it was raining. When he looked back, the frog had pulled itself into a ball again. It was silent, save for the distant yells of sailors as ships pulled in and out of port.

“Hello?” Logan finally said. “I’m not going to just stand here all evening.”

Nothing responded.

He pulled at the knocker again and let it fall. Then he knocked several times on the door, and for good measure, kicked it. It hurt his foot. He could probably bust through the door if he had half an hour and phoenix tears, but as it was, he was resolutely locked out. Ugh.

He kicked the door again. It still hurt. He didn’t know why he expected otherwise.

Just as Logan was about to experiment with climbing through a window, someone yelled “Hold on, jeez, don’t bust the door down!”

Logan whipped his hand behind his back to look as though someone else had done the banging. After a few seconds, the door swung open abruptly. “What is it?”

“Uh,” said Logan, who had been planning for a myriad of things. He had not expected a teenager around his age, looking at him like he was an annoying solicitor. “Hi?”

“Hi,” the person repeated. “Do you need something, or--”

“Uh,” Logan said again. He wished he’d planned more thoroughly for this. “You guys have a kraken, right?”

“Yeah?” Their eyes widened a bit in realization. “Oh, okay, you’re not here about the rent.”

“No,” Logan said. “Is that a concern for you?”

“Half the reason we put the stupid frog up there in the first place.” The person--witch? Maybe? They were definitely something, Logan knew that much, but it was hard to tell in the shadows and their magic didn’t feel like a witch’s--rolled their eyes. “Anyway. What’s up with the kraken?”

“I was wondering if you had any spare tentacles?” Logan asked. “My mentor, J--” Crap, wait, no names. Names had power. What was Janus’ usual pseudonym? “Dee, he needs a tentacle for a spell, and he sent me to ask you for some.”

Well, more aptly, Janus had sent him to “get one, legally or not.” Logan decided not to mention that part.

“Oh!” The person nodded. “Yeah, bad luck--nobody’s home right now.”

“What?”

“The whole coven’s out,” they explained, leaning on the doorframe and tugging at their tunic. “Today’s the day that ship comes back from the northern islands, and everyone wants to see if there’s any lead on those siren theories. It’s been planned for weeks, didn’t Dee tell you?”

“He never tells me anything,” Logan said shortly. Although, he wondered if Janus had purposely sent him to the coven on an empty day. That didn’t bode well for the friendliness of the coven on a non-empty day. “What should I do?”

“Hm.” The person thought for a second, running a hand through their hair. The doorway was so shadowed that it looked like a portal. “I’m not really supposed to let anyone in. I’m holding down the fort, and I’d like to do a good job of standing guard--” They did a little flourish of the hand. “But I could hardly turn away such a petitioner as yourself!”

“I don’t suppose you have any tentacles on hand?” Logan suggested. “You could hand them through the door.”

“Don’t think so,” they said with a wince. “We barely ever harvest them, since it tends to go--poorly.”

Logan tried very carefully to not think about what that meant.

The person glanced into the house, then back at Logan. “Look. I feel bad about letting you leave empty-handed, but I’m really not supposed to let you in, so you’re going to have to be really quick, okay?”

Logan nodded fervently. “Very quick.”

“Fantastic!” They clapped their hands and stepped back into the house. “So, uh, follow me? And don’t touch anything.”

With only a slight pause and a glance at his candle--almost three notches burned through already--Logan entered the coven’s house.

The door slammed shut behind him.

It was dark. He paused before pulling out his candle, but nobody seemed to be upset, so he held it up. Blue light danced along the walls. The wallpaper was peeling, but the carpet was freshly vacuumed, and a vase of daisies balanced on a coffee table. Logan lifted his candle higher and caught the glimmer of spiderwebs, the gleam of stairs to a second floor, and a rustling between a few of the floorboards.

“Maggots or rats?” Logan asked, to judge the probability of the floor collapsing beneath them.

“Maggots,” they said nonchalantly. “Aine keeps some.”

Logan decided to step more carefully.

“Oh!” The person stopped in the middle of the foyer. “Oh, I’m a terrible host, you can’t even see! Hold on!”

A scurrying of shadows, and then the chandelier flared to life. The flames were bright red and dripped along with the wax, a few drops hissing when they hit the carpet far below. Now Logan could see the whole house, with a polished banister wrapping past the stairs and to the second floor. There was a small back door, a few cupboards, and a glimpse of a dining room. It was all dark wood, or maybe that was the red light, that clashed with Logan’s candle and made it a bruised purple.

Movement made Logan look up. Next to the chandelier was the person from before. They smiled and waved at him, before somersaulting off the stairs and landing easily on the carpet.

“Sorry,” they said. “Didn’t realize you couldn’t see. Is that better?”

Logan stared at them. “Did you just jump off the--”

And then his eyes finally adjusted to the light. And then Logan finally--finally, he heard in Janus’ voice, are you really that unobservant--noticed.

A nice smile with bright eyes and a stub nose. Hair that needed a cut, with tufts sticking out in the back. One hand casually leaning on the stairs, the other waving the match until it went out. Smoke coiled from their hand--a hand too smooth and too bony, like someone had just pulled skin over bones and called it a day. A nice smile and pure white eyes.

“Ah,” Logan said, feeling very, very stupid. Because now that he was paying attention, he could feel it, the gentle thrum of magic nearby. But not a rustle like Janus’, or even an unfamiliar flash like the witches he glimpsed in markets. A constant, cold weight in his stomach, like ballast on a ship. “You’re--ah.”

“My name’s Roman,” said Roman, looking barely fazed. “He/him. And I can tell you that, because I’m not all fancy and cagey with my name like all of you!”

“Roman,” Logan repeated. “Nice to meet you, Roman.”

“The pleasure is mine as well!” Roman gestured for him to follow. “Now come on, before everyone gets back.”

Logan nodded and followed, his candle flame shivering. The more he stepped away from the door, the more he felt the cold settling in his bones. Roman didn’t seem to notice, though, because he jumped cheerfully from floorboard to floorboard. When he caught Logan looking, he smiled, as if this was fun. Logan did not find it fun. Logan wished for it to be over.

“Here we are,” Roman said, tugging open a cupboard door. Instead of silverware, Logan saw a long tunnel. “Basement!”

“Basement,” Logan repeated. He supposed no one could keep a kraken in the living room. “Are you coming with me?”

“Yeah, no way you’d know what to do otherwise!” Roman grinned at him. “I’m your tour guide.”

Logan huffed. “I’d know what to do.”

“Sure you would.” Roman turned away, his grin fading to a smirk. “Your collar’s inside out.”

“Wh--is not!” Logan looked down and back up. “It isn’t!”

Roman laughed and stepped into the tunnel. The distant light framed him, making his skin gleam waxy. “Coming?”

Logan huffed again, gathered his cloak to keep it from dragging on the wet stone, and followed.

The tunnel was cramped. Roman led the way, jumping expertly from rock to rock, and Logan struggled to keep up. His blue candle lit the place in an eerie glow. When he tried to listen for sounds, he could hear nothing except a distant lapping of waves, which made his stomach turn.

He tripped, dropped a packet of laurel, and bent to grab it. Roman paused and waited with barely disguised mockery until Logan had gathered his things again.

“Shut up,” Logan said, even though Roman hadn’t said anything.

“You’re pretty small for a witch,” Roman said, turning back around. “Should you really be messing with this stuff?”

“Like I said, it was Dee’s idea.” Logan tried to hurry after him. “I’d much rather not be in a tunnel right now.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Roman sucked in a breath and let it out. “Look, I’d just--if I were you, I’d start trying to master necromancy, because you are absolutely doomed.”

“Am not,” Logan decided to say instead of panicking.

“Are too!” Roman fired back over his shoulder. “Now hurry up, we haven’t got all day, witch boy.”

“We’re the same age, Roman!”

“I’m taller than you!”

Logan bit back a retort and just tried to hurry. He tripped several more times, and Roman gave him a judgmental look. Logan tried to return it. As they approached the end of the tunnel, though, his anger was less and less strong. It was slowly replaced with apprehension.

Roman didn’t seem nervous. Although, Logan admitted, he didn’t know the guy well enough to be sure. He trusted Roman on instinct--maybe because he liked his smile, or because if he decided not to, this entire situation became more perilous by tenfold.

“You’re not going to kill me,” Logan decided to confirm. “Right?”

“What? No!” Roman laughed. “I would never do that.”

“And...”

“And I can’t say the same of anyone else here,” Roman said. “Or the lovely kraken you’ve decided to pay a visit to.”

Logan swallowed.

Roman kept walking ahead of him, and Logan tried to focus on anything except the house far behind them and the water ahead of them. Roman. He moved with smoothness, like candlewax dripping from a chandelier, but his joints often jerked in ways Logan didn’t believe were natural. His skin reflected Logan’s candle, and he seemed just slightly left of a living person. Just too perfect, and just too not.

When he was a kid, Logan heard stories about creations that fell apart mid-motion, a pile of limbs in the street. He hated that he could see exactly where it would happen--the joints jammed together, an ugly seam line, easy to break. He felt a bit like he was next to a fragile vase. One bump, and he’d find out what exactly Roman had been made of.

Candlewax, probably. That was a common one. Or wood, for a sturdier frame, and sometimes cloth. Janus told him about a glass one once. Logan could barely imagine the power that usually went into them--one witch was trustworthy, two was company, three was a crowd. Four was enough to make life from nothing.

Logan had found the whole thing fascinating. Until now, when he was following Roman through the tunnel, and beginning to think about it a bit too hard.

Roman was about Logan’s age. He must have grown just like Logan. He was probably registered as Roman Galatea--most were--if he legally existed at all. And Logan felt so horrible about even thinking like that, because it seemed to rob Roman of his personhood, except he didn’t really have any--except he clearly did, except--

Janus didn’t use those kinds of spells. He’d never created anything like that. Logan asked him, once, if it was dark magic.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Janus had told him, which was how most of his lectures started. “There’s no such thing as dark magic. There’s just magic.”

“Sounds like something a dark magician would say.”

Janus had sighed. “Some people would call creating life ‘dark magic,’ yes. I wouldn’t, because as stated above, I think it’s all stupid.”

Logan had paused. “You don’t do it, though.”

“Of course not.” Janus smirked. “There’s enough life in the world without me adding to it.”

And now Logan was here, approaching a kraken and somehow more scared of the only other living thing in the house.

And then Roman told him to hurry up, and Logan rolled his eyes, and he easily fell back into being annoyed by a kid his age. Maybe it meant something, how easy it was. Maybe it didn’t.

Maybe he was overthinking this to a ridiculous degree, because they’d just met and Roman didn’t even know his name.

“Almost there,” Roman said, pulling Logan from his thoughts. “Do you have a plan?”

“A plan?” Logan blinked. “Get a tentacle?”

A long pause. “Okay, look, I want to support you in your dreams and all, but--”

“But that’s a stupid plan?”

“But it was nice knowing you.”

Logan rolled his eyes again. They already felt sore from all the rolling. “I do have skills--”

“Not saying you don’t,” Roman said, in a tone that showed he was saying that Logan didn’t. “So do I. Doesn’t mean I do stupid things like charge in to face a kraken alone.”

“I have you.”

Roman snickered. “I’m not going to be much help, unless you want to be serenaded while you die painfully.”

“True,” Logan said. “Or you could murder me.”

“I’m trustworthy!”

“Are you?”

“Yes!” Roman pouted. “You’re the one who I don’t trust. Never trust a witch, you know.”

“You can trust witches,” Logan said, feeling a bit hurt. “One witch is trustworthy, and two is company.”

“And who says that?”

“Witches--” Logan paused. “I see your point.”

Roman laughed. “Hurry up, trustworthy witch boy.”

Logan hiked up his cloak. Despite his best efforts, the hem was entirely soaked with water. The bottom of the tunnel was getting steadily wetter as they traveled, splashing water as he walked, and he wondered how on earth such a long tunnel could exist under one house.

He asked Roman that, and Roman laughed. “We’re under the sea right now!”

“We’re what?” Logan was ashamed of the way his voice squeaked. “Is that safe?”

“Yeah, we’re deep down in the rock!” Roman held out a hand and a drop of water hit his palm. It skidded off the waxy surface. Logan almost jumped away from it when it fell. “Relax, you’ll be fine.”

Logan was far less certain. He had known a kraken was a water-dwelling creature, but he’d expected a small pond. Or, hopefully, a dry drawer with tentacles inside. He hadn’t planned for an entire ocean over his head. Logan shoved the image of drowning from his head--he was doing a lot of repression today, he noticed--and soldiered after Roman.

Before Logan could even ask Roman to slow down and possibly reassure him that they were not going to die, the tunnel finally opened up. Logan’s candle shuddered--four notches already, more than halfway burned through--and he stepped into the kraken’s cave.

Cave was the only word for it. It was a cylindrical hole in the rock, ten times taller than Logan, with stalactites bristling on the walls, cold and grey as icicles. A pool of dark water sat beneath them--a perfect circular disk, with small waves lapping at the stone. A few paths were hewn roughly into the rock. It smelled like brine and old fish at the market and Janus’ boots when he forgot to clean them. Roman plugged his nose.

And ten feet below them, a tentacle rested on an outcrop of rock. Ugly green, horrifically slimy, and with suckers the size of Logan’s palm.

“Good,” Logan said, trying to find some silver lining in this situation. “That should be simple.”

“Shh!” Roman’s hand clapped over Logan’s mouth. It was surprisingly warm, just like a normal hand, and Logan found himself distracted. “Come on, if it’s sleeping, you do not want to wake it up.”

“Okay, okay!” Logan batted Roman’s hand away. “I get it, Roman.”

“If you say so.” Roman stepped back towards the tunnel, which was a gaping hole in the rock. It looked like a mouth. Like a kraken’s mouth, in fact, and Logan was going to stop thinking now. “Well? Go ahead!”

“Right,” Logan said, wishing he knew a spell to summon confidence. He took a deep breath, tried to ignore the crushing weight of water above him, and tiptoed forward. Almost immediately, his foot skidded on the damp rock. He barely managed to keep his balance. Behind him, Roman laughed.

“Hey!” Logan complained. “You said be quiet!”

“Who’s the one talking now?”

Logan threw up his hands and turned around. Thankfully, the dark water was still as a mirror. The tentacle lolled on the rocks. He just needed to creep down, cut it off, and creep back up! Which, of course, relied on the kraken sleeping through the loss of a body part, but maybe krakens weren’t extremely sensitive to pain! Possibly. Hopefully.

When Logan got back, he was going to kill Janus.

He inched towards the edge of the rocks, checking every two seconds for movement. Nothing. Behind him, Roman loitered in the tunnel. Maybe he wanted to see the show.

Logan slipped between two rocks, scraping a knuckle on one. He bit back a yelp. No time for noise. His cloak was heavy with water--water above him, and below him, don’t think about that--but it muffled his footprints easily. He dug in one pocket, holding up the candle with the other, and pulled out a pocketknife. The blade was dull. He should have sharpened it before he left.

He should have done a lot of things, actually. For example, he should have written his will.

Logan let out a long breath, snuck down towards the water, and knelt next to the tentacle.

Up close, it was even more disgusting. Logan felt water seep through the knees of his pants, and he hoped it was water and not slime from the tentacle. When he glanced up, he could see Roman in the tunnel opening, watching him. Probably thinking he looked like an idiot. He probably did.

Logan gripped the knife tightly. Okay. A clean, swift cut--put the power in his arm, not his wrist, and keep it away from his other fingers. Okay. Focus.

Three, two, one.

Logan let the knife fall.

And to his credit--yes, the thinnest of silver linings, but he was going to allow himself something--the blade made it more than halfway through in one swoop. The flesh parted easily.

Then the tentacle spasmed, shot back into the water, and the candle slipped from his fingers. It skidded on the rocks and slipped into the water with a hiss. He could see the blue flame, still burning--and then he couldn’t, as a large shadow passed over it.

Ah.

Logan waited for something to happen. He should probably move, but he was frozen, watching the dark water. Silence. The drip-drip of water above him.

“Um,” Logan finally said, his voice high-pitched. “Roman?”

“What?” Roman asked.

“I--uh--” Logan swallowed. “We might want to run now.”

The water exploded.

Logan threw himself backwards, hitting the rocks and jostling his bones. He scrambled to his feet as quickly as possible. Something large moved above him, and water fell on him like rain, plastering his hair to his skull and fogging his glasses. He rubbed at them and tried to stumble in a direction that wasn’t near the giant flailing thing.

A hand grabbed his arm, and he was hauled in an entirely different direction. “You idiot!” Roman yelled, half-dragging him away from the water.

“You’re one to talk!” Logan managed. “Don’t be so loud!”

“Oh, what, because it’ll hear us?” Roman waved an arm at the boiling water. “I think we’re well past that.”

Logan swore and let Roman toss him behind a rock. He tried to catch his breath. Water dripped down his skin, already making his hands shake, and he could hear the sounds of rocks hitting each other. Roman crouched next to him, between the rock and the wall, eyes wide and white and very judgmental.

“I didn’t mean to,” Logan blurted out, as if it mattered at this point. “I didn’t--”

Roman rolled his eyes hard. “What do we do now?”

“Wait for it to tire out?”

Another tentacle, the size of a centaur, smacked the ceiling. Rocks trembled and stalactites quivered, promising a painful deluge.

Roman looked up at the shaking ceiling, then back at Logan. “Any other bright ideas, witch boy?”

“My name is Logan,” Logan snapped, then realized he had been an idiot. “Uh.”

“Relax, I can’t do anything with it, can I?” Roman eyed the rocks around them. “Do you think we could run for it?”

“I could hardly catch up to you.”

“Then what do we do?” Roman looked at Logan and his eyes lit up. “Do you have a spell for this?”

Logan almost laughed. “Yes, my convenient kraken-repelling spell that requires no time or materials, and can be cast while I’m drenched in water.”

“Oh, good!” Roman blinked. “That was sarcasm, wasn’t it.”

“Take a wild guess!” Logan peeked around the rock. The kraken didn’t seem to have found them yet, but its tentacles were flailing wildly and sleepily, like a rooster woke it up and it wanted to make the sound stop. “This is a disaster. What can you do to make it stop?”

“I’m not exactly powerful,” Roman said sheepishly. “I can ask it nicely?”

“It’s not sentient!”

“I could try anyway!”

“Wonderful.” Logan bit back a yell of frustration. “I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!”

“Hey, rude!” Roman fired back, ducking a spray of water. “Who woke the thing up again? Uh, wasn’t me!”

“Dee told me to!” Logan ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t think he expected this to go so wrong, but I’m still going to blame him.”

“He’d, like, interfere, right?” Roman didn’t look hopeful. “If you got hurt?”

“He doesn’t know where I am.” Logan looked at his hands. They were scraped with blood and covered in mud, making the skin look even darker than usual. “I can usually get back to him by snuffing the candle--”

A tentacle narrowly missed their rock. It hit the wall, coiled against it in a spray of slime, and retreated angrily.

“--which is currently at the bottom of the pool,” Logan finished. “Because I dropped it.”

Roman seemed to hold back his own frustrated yell. “Okay. Wonderful. Fantastic. Just exactly what we needed.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Fine, then, we’re all doomed!” Roman threw up his hands. “We can’t outrun the thing--well, you certainly can’t--and we have no backup!”

Logan tried to scoot closer to the wall. “Do you have anyone to summon?”

“No,” Roman said.

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“Yes.” Roman laughed a bit, which almost made Logan feel better. “It takes half the coven to even put this thing to sleep. I send them a flare, they’ll probably say ‘what flowers do you want at your funeral?’“

Logan groaned and let his head fall onto the wall. “Why’d you even let me in here?”

“You asked!” Roman complained. “I was being polite! I figured you’d get creeped out and turn around!”

“I should have,” Logan said. Curse his pride and inability to stop doing things when told to do them. “Too late now, I suppose.”

A deluge of water fell on them both. When Logan looked up, he saw the rocks shaking faster and faster. That was, to the best of his knowledge, very bad.

"How long would it take to run for it?” Logan asked.

“You’re wearing a cloak,” Roman said. “You’re not capable of running anywhere.”

Logan, with only a moment’s hesitation, tugged it off. He tossed it in the air. A tentacle speared it, and it vanished.

“You’re capable of running,” Roman amended. “Just not fast. I could run for it--”

“Don’t,” Logan said.

“Why not?”

“Well, if you wanted to do so, you would have already.” Logan eyed the rocks. “Besides, if the tunnel began to collapse, you’d be trapped.”

Roman let out a breath. “Fair. So we’re back to no plan?”

“Back to no plan,” Logan agreed, as more water trickled down the back of his neck. They could simply sit there as long as possible, which seemed the only solid option, but an option that still led to eventual death and/or mauling by tentacle. Logan needed to think.

He knew spells. Spells that mostly required materials, which were in his cloak, which were in the bottom of the pool along with the candle. He knew how to escape to Janus--but, again, candle.

Logan began to realize that his knowledge, while vast in areas such as geography and astrophysics, was ill-equipped to handle a kraken. When he got back to Janus, he was definitely going to teach himself every creature spell in the cottage.

If he got back.

Would Janus notice? Would he assume Logan was late again? How long would it take for him to put the pieces together and realize--

Logan was breathing too fast. He needed to calm down. He needed to think.

He glanced at Roman, who was still looking around wildly, as if he could summon a plan. Logan could feel Roman’s magic, thick and cold, in his chest.

And the beginnings of a plan formed. It was a plan that Logan hated on multiple levels, and Roman would probably despise, but it was a plan.

“Can you swim?” Logan asked.

“Yeah!” Roman said, yelling over the sound of a rock crashing into the water. “Can you?”

“No!” Logan said. “I’m terrified of water, actually!”

“You’re terrified of water?” Roman’s panic gave way to incredulity. “Humans need it.”

“I mean big bodies of water!” Logan pointed up. “Like what is currently above us!”

“Oh.”

“So no, I can’t swim.” Logan hesitated. “You can?”

“Candles float in water!” Roman grinned. “Thus, so do I.”

“Ah.” Logan put a few more pieces of the plan together in his head. “I have an idea, and you may not like it.”

“I don’t like anything you’ve said today,” Roman said. “By now, I’ve taken that for granted. Continue.”

Logan took a deep breath just as another splash of water hit them. He coughed. Roman thumped on his chest unhelpfully until the water receded.

“As I was saying,” Logan said, attempting to look more confident than he was. He probably looked a complete mess--no cloak, which bared his arms and mis-matched socks, and straggly hair over his forehead. Roman, by contrast, still looked fine. Nice smile and perfect hair. Unfair.

“As I was saying,” Logan repeated, trying to remember what he was saying. “We need a plan. I can get us out of here if I find that candle, but it’s somewhere in the pool--”

“And only one of us can swim and see in the dark,” Roman finished. He didn’t look happy, but he looked resigned. “So I get the candle for you?”

“I’ll distract the kraken in the meantime,” Logan said.

“That sounds dangerous.”

“So does swimming around in that pool,” Logan pointed out. “And this entire debacle in the first place--which, rest assured, I am going to yell at Dee for.”

“Yeah, that’s my biggest concern right now.” Roman peeked around the rock. “So I bring you the candle, and then--”

“I snuff it and teleport us out of here.”

“And it takes us--”

“To Dee, probably.” Logan paused. “Actually, it takes us to the last place I felt safe, so I’m not quite sure where we’ll end up. Most likely, near Dee.”

Roman looked a bit alarmed by the idea of teleporting somewhere random, but a tentacle crept around the rock and he smashed it with his hand. It retreated with a guttural hiss. “I guess we’ve got no better options.”

“Sorry,” Logan said, despite himself. “I don’t wish to put you in danger.”

“Well, the host has to be polite to the guests!” Roman said, smiling. “Compromise is the best plan, and I’m certainly brave enough to pull it off. Besides, I’m used to being taken advantage of!”

“Um--”

“So when do we do it?” Roman actually looked excited. Maybe he was just glad to have a plan. “Do I go ahead?”

“You can go a few seconds after I do,” Logan said. He pushed himself onto his knees and stared at the slippery rocks next to them. “I’ll run around and distract it. Maybe I’ll even grab a tentacle while I’m there.”

“Optimistic,” Roman said.

“It’s that or start crying.” Logan braced himself. He’d have to run fast, keep away from the walls, and do his best to be noticed. The exact opposite of his usual plan. “Go?”

“Good luck!”

“I’ll need it,” Logan said, and pushed himself out from behind the rock.

He’d meant to check on Roman, to see if Roman was leaving okay. He didn’t have time. Almost instantly, a tentacle barreled past him, hitting the wall with bone-shaking force. Logan tossed himself in the first direction he thought of, tumbled down a few rocks, and found himself far closer to the water than he’d like. It was frothing white and angry, tentacles clawing at the walls.

Okay, so he did not want to fall into that. Logan swallowed the lump of terror in his throat--he was going to drown--and began to scale the rocks. He could work in circles, or he could just bob from rock to rock, back and forth.

Quickly, though, he realized that no plan would work. He couldn’t plan ahead. All he could do was duck.

Duck a swing from overhead. Duck a flash of wet, grey skin from behind. Lunge left, lunge right, move before he slipped, move, move.

He found himself in a rhythm. Toss himself in a direction, grab wildly for a handhold, and dangle for a second. Then he heard a telltale splash and threw himself in a different direction. His hands ached. He barely noticed.

“Over here,” he yelled at one point. He was so out of breath that he barely made a sound. Maybe he was enough of a distraction already--he hoped so. Roman was down there somewhere. Hopefully.

Logan risked a glance at the water. No sign of him. Logan’s chest was cold, because of the freezing ocean water, not because of magic.

Toss himself in a direction, hope for a handhold, regret life decisions, repeat.

Logan was never going to complain about a boring errand again.

“Roman?” he finally called. No answer.

Roman could breathe underwater--well, more aptly, he didn’t need to breathe as much. He would be fine. Unless he’d fainted, or been smashed by a tentacle, or drowned--

Logan’s fingers slipped on a rock. He gripped it tighter and kept moving.

Move, grab, hang, move--

“Logan!”

Logan almost whooped in relief. He whirled and saw Roman, drenched and triumphant, ten feet below him. The candle guttered in his left hand. Only one notch left.

“Thank you!” Logan called back, out of politeness. Roman gave him a thumbs up, then leapt into the air to avoid a tentacle. Leap, duck, roll, and Roman was only a few feet away. He grinned widely at Logan.

“I’ll get to you,” Logan said, slipping down a sheet of rock. It crumbled under his feet, falling into the water. “Wait there.”

“No problem!” Roman said, which even Logan could tell was a lie. He dodged another tentacle, which looped around in midair and tried to grab him again. Roman kicked it. “Oh, it’s getting smarter!”

“Fascinating.” Logan let himself fall another few feet, then grabbed a notch of rock. “Almost there.”

“It was pretty cool down there,” Roman rambled, jumping from foot to foot. “Just one big eye--”

A wave of water hit Logan in the back.

The kraken had indeed gotten smarter. Or, perhaps, it was finally fully awake. This wave was tall enough to reach them both, and strong enough to punch Logan’s breath from his lungs. It hurt so much that he didn’t even realize when his hands emptied.

Logan fell into the water.

It was cold. Colder than Roman’s magic, colder than the coven’s house, colder than a winter blizzard. Logan almost gasped. He clapped his hand over his mouth as a last resort. Shock tingled up his legs and arms.

He wasn’t supposed to panic. He knew that much. He needed to kick off his shoes and swim for the surface. But the water was tossing him around, currents and foam and cold hands on his skin, and he didn’t know which way was up. He kicked his feet. One shoe slid off.

Through the fuzzy darkness, he saw a flash of blue.

Move--move as fast as he could. He needed to move--he was going to drown--

He sank deeper.

And two hands grabbed his.

Roman was far warmer than the water around them, oddly. And his magic, when it spilled into Logan, felt warm too. Molten. Roman squeezed Logan’s hands and pressed the candle into one of them. Logan looked down at it, trying to clear his head and remember exactly what he was supposed to do.

Right. Snuff the candle. Get home.

He could barely see--

Then everything was yellow. Roman’s face burned into view, eyes wide and pale, feet kicking carefully at the water. Logan looked down at the candle stub with its bright blue flame, then turned to look at the source of the light.

Ah. An eye, big as the sail of a ship, yellow and fiery with a slit-black pupil.

"Shit,” Logan said.

Bubbles erupted from his mouth. They looked like pearls in the yellow light. Logan blinked several times and tore his gaze away. But he could feel the eye on him--he could hear the water moving--he could hear the kraken’s heart, if he tried, a solid thump-thump through the water--

Roman said something muffled. Logan looked at him. Roman groaned and exaggeratedly mouthed snuff the candle.

Logan looked down at the candle. Snuff the candle. Except the candle was already in water, and it was burning strong. How had he done this before? He didn’t remember--all he remembered was the first time he used it, when Janus wasn’t safe yet, when he ended up halfway across the world--

Logan batted at the flame. It didn’t budge. He blew on it, and got a stream of yellow-lit bubbles. The candle was so small. If it went out, their chance was lost, and the entire ocean was above them and around them and--

Another muffled yell from Roman. Logan looked up.

You are a witch, Roman mouthed at him. You can snuff the--muffled--candle.

Logan steadied himself.

Magic always felt odd to use. It started as cold rain, when he was a kid, like a bucket of cold water in his bed to wake him up. As he grew, it was warmer, a light rain in the garden, dewdrops on a spring morning.

He dug at his magic like digging into dirt, and waited to find a shoot.

The candle fizzed.

He didn’t have enough. He hadn’t cast a spell all day, so he should have enough for a simple spell, but he was cold and wet and terrified and frozen in the gaze of a creature older and bigger than he was. And he was on his own.

If he was outnumbered, run the other way.

Roman squeezed his hand.

Except he wasn’t. He wasn’t outnumbered. It was two against one, although Roman wasn’t a witch, just a witch’s creation. Just a piece of candlewax and magic with a nice smile--

A piece of magic.

Oh, that was a terrible idea.

Can I, Logan tried to mouth, borrow some--

What? Roman mouthed back with high eyebrows.

Something moved in the darkness, and the yellow light winked out for a second, before returning in full force. It made Logan’s limbs feel heavy. He could barely see the candle’s flame.

Sorry, he decided to mouth. I’m sorry about this.

He could apologize more if they survived.

For now, Logan gripped Roman’s hand and concentrated. Roman. Probably Roman Galatea, but more importantly, Roman. Roman gave Logan his name--which was an act of trust that Logan was now breaking, but don’t think about that--and it made things easier.

Finding his own magic was digging in soil. Finding someone else’s was breaking through a layer of frost, and Logan really hoped it didn’t hurt, because he was trying to just borrow as much as he needed but he was tired and couldn’t focus--

Tug. Throw them into a random direction. Grab the candle. Cling to Roman’s hand.

Move.

The flame winked out.

The eye winked out.

And Logan took a gasping breath of fresh air.

They were standing at the foot of the mountain. In front of them was the port, teeming with life, and the late-afternoon sky streaked with sun. Ships creaked back and forth like toys, and sails billowed in the wind. Logan took one look at the ocean, stretching out to infinity, and promptly turned away.

He looked down at one hand. The candle was gone.

He looked at the other. Roman’s hand was still in his. Drops of water beaded on his skin.

Logan looked up just in time for Roman to crush him in a hug.

“We did it!” Roman cheered, spinning Logan in a circle. “Success! Victory!”

“Put me down!” Logan yelled, kicking at thin air.

“Triumph!” Roman declared, but he put Logan back down. Logan rubbed at his sleeves and tried to drain the water from his shirt. His cloak was probably beneath the ocean right now. Janus would be annoyed about that.

“We did it,” Roman repeated gleefully.

“We did it,” Logan agreed, allowing himself a small smile of his own. “I--uh. Sorry. About taking your magic without asking.”

“Oh,” Roman said, like he hadn’t considered that would be something worth apologizing for. “Well, it got us out, so I don’t mind.”

“Don’t you?” Logan asked. He almost wished Roman would argue with him, to make Logan feel less like a jerk.

“Eh, it was fine, emergencies are emergencies.” Roman shrugged. “Plus, your magic feels pretty nice!”

Logan blinked. “It does?”

“Uh--kind of,” Roman said hastily. “Not in a nice way. You’re annoying.”

“Ah,” Logan said. He fake-coughed to gather his thoughts, and found a real cough instead. More coughs bubbled up. He doubled over and squeezed his eyes shut until they faded. “I hate water.”

“After today, I might be joining you with that.” Roman wiped water from his hair ruefully. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire cavern collapsed soon.”

“Would the kraken die?”

“Probably not.” Roman looked out to sea. “It would just slip through the cracks, creeping through the shadows to prey on unsuspecting ships, its tentacles grasping for blood--”

“Don’t,” Logan pleaded. “I do not want to think about that.”

“But we beat it!” Roman grinned. “Kind of sort of! I mean, we successfully fled the scene, which is more than most people!”

“True,” Logan admitted. “I didn’t get a tentacle--”

“Is Dee going to be mad?”

Logan looked down at his wet, bloody clothes. On any other day, he’d say yes. He’d never actually failed an errand--but he’d never almost died on one, either.

“No,” Logan said. “He’ll understand. And after the kraken, I don’t think I’m scared of being yelled at.”

Roman nodded. “Yeah, me neither.”

“You--oh.” Logan winced. “Oh, you’re going to get in trouble for this, aren’t you?”

“If they find out!” Roman tapped the side of his nose. “I have many excuses.”

“And if they find out?”

“I’ll get an earful.” Roman sighed. “Since you didn’t steal anything, though, and since the kraken is still intact, I think it’ll pass.”

“That’s good.” Logan glanced up the mountain trail. Janus would definitely be expecting him soon. “Er--I should be going.”

“Oh!” Roman looked a bit disappointed. “Okay, yeah, you have your witchy business, I understand. Fair travels!”

Logan nodded slowly. “Thank you, Roman. For everything. I truly appreciate it.”

“Aw, he has a heart!” Roman grinned. “You’re welcome. I’m awesome.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Logan said. “Still, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You couldn’t have!”

“You’re ruining this.”

Roman grinned wider. In the sunlight, he didn’t look off anymore. Well, he didn’t look human, but Logan barely noticed. He looked a bit like a jackrabbit. Gangly and brown and long-legged, with bright and cheerful white eyes.

“My point is that I’m grateful.” Logan rubbed at his arm, feeling nervous. “And--if you ever need me, feel free to visit.”

“If I need a tentacle?”

“We don’t have tentacles. If you need something other than a tentacle, yes.”

“What use could I have for a non-tentacle?” Roman teased. “Your offer is much appreciated. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.” Logan waved quickly at him. “Er--goodbye?”

“Fare thee well!” Roman bowed and jumped towards the port. He really was like a jackrabbit. “Don’t drown!”

“I’ll endeavor not to!”

Roman smiled and continued to scramble down the path.

“Wait,” Logan called, before he could stop himself. “Why did you help?”

“What?” Roman asked, pivoting.

“You could have easily ran,” Logan said, gesturing to Roman. “You’ve been leaping down the hillside. You could have left me and escaped.”

“We got out anyway, didn’t we?” Roman pressed a hand to his chest. “How could I abandon someone in need? Even an irritating and naive someone such as yourself.”

Logan glared at him.

“And--” Roman rubbed at his hair sheepishly. “You call me by my name. People don’t usually do that.”

“Oh,” Logan said.

Roman shrugged even more sheepishly.

“Well, I’ll just have to do it more to make up for it,” Logan said. “Does that work, Roman?”

Roman beamed. “Sounds like a plan, Logan.”

Janus would never recommend sharing his name with a near-stranger. Janus would say that was unsafe. Janus would say one witch was trustworthy, and one was all anyone needed.

But two was company. Logan found he rather liked having company.

“Sounds like a plan,” Logan agreed, and smiled back.

Give me a prompt, and I’ll write a short drabble!

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