#god I could ramble about fives and echo FOREVER

[aurathian]

baptism director’s commentary please please please

omg hi b thanks for enabling me (the fic is here for those who want to read it)

guys. i just. i have such an unhealthy obsession with religious trauma and it is SOOOOO intriguing in the zelda universe especially botw and sksw and totk and like tbh. i know lots of people hate it but i feel like morally grey or even leaning "bad" hylia is so cool and intriguing and awesome. she is not someone i will ever see myself writing as an actual normal character but someone i love to depict through the eyes of other characters like.... zelda. obviously. this fic itself is less about hylia and focuses more on zelda's mother but zelda's mother's feelings are a direct result of religious trauma & anxiety & her own perceptions about hylia

we know so little about zelda's mother she is briefly mentioned and that's it and i CRAVE knowing more about her so i took it into my own hands (i came up with delusional headcanons) and this fic is just one manifestation of that. i could go on about it forever. we saw how the whole prayer thing affected zelda and her father, but we know nothing about how it affected her mother. did she ever have to share the same burden? did she understand the gravity of what zelda would have to go through? in this fic her guilt and anxiety is so intense that she wishes literal death on her baby so that she will not have to go through these things that she knows about but hasn't experienced--but knowledge of it is enough to send her into panic.

i am so sorry. this is less about the fic and more my own ramblings but its some of the thought behind why and how i wrote it... i hope thats ok LMFAOOOO heres a snippet below

The fortune teller said so.

She cradled her baby in her arms, so delicate and small, her tiny hands grasping at the air, mewling; so innocent. There was a small basin before them, gilded and shining, filled with shimmering water; so holy, so pure. Untouched by evil or misfortune, it waited patiently for the dip of the baby’s head. Undemanding, void of stress, it did not beckon or call; it waited, because it knew it was only a matter of time before the baby was baptized.

The woman cradling her baby could only stare at the gentle ripples prompted by the slight movements of the people holding the basin. One of them, the Bishop of the Church of Hylia; the other, a mere boy. The Bishop smiled at her, gentle and polite, giving a small nod toward the bath. If only he knew, she thought.

Her husband asked her, Why do you hesitate? She said, I don’t know. His hand on her shoulder was anything but comforting. His hand on her shoulder was doom; an omen, a prophecy, a call to a future known yet unpreventable. 

The fortune teller said so.

She took a step toward the basin, the soft tap of her shoe against the marble floor echoing through the empty cathedral, empty except for the five people in the room and the hard, stony gaze of the Goddess Hylia above. Here, her steps weighed heavy like no one, not even she, could fathom; her steps were laden with fate, controlled by the puppet string of the gods. Each step spelled another death, another destruction, another ruin. Tap, tap, tap.  

She was beside the basin, hushing her baby in her gentle embrace, her baby with a head of blonde hair much like her own, with eyes like her own, with pale skin like her own; the baby who looked so much like her she wondered if this foretold fate was not the baby’s but hers instead, and by some divine mistake it had been passed down to one daughter too many.

#bahbahhh #ask game #zelda

[astriloquiis-art]

you ever think about how they were twins.. who deserved SO much more.. ...starts sobbing

#sometimes if I think about the domino twins #for too long #I just start crying #it’s insane #something about them just makes me so SO very sad #they deserved so much more than they got.. #god I could ramble about fives and echo FOREVER #domino twins #mjs art things #clone wars #the clone wars #fives #echo #echo and fives #fives and echo #arc trooper fives fanart #arc trooper echo fanart #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #ct 1409 #ct 5555 #clones deserved better #the domino twins #domino twins fanart #clone trooper echo #clone trooper fives

[aboardthehavocmarauder]

Beautiful Mischief [Pt. 6]

Bad Batch x Reader • Angst/Fluff/NSFW (yknow the whole deal) • Mechanic [hidden Jedi] ! Reader • Female reader

She’s going to be okay, Cross.

I didn’t trust her

This isn’t our fault. Nor was it hers

Trust is earned. She knew that

Maybe this could’ve been prevented

Maybe. But not exactly.

Y/N sighs sitting up in a bunk instead of gurney realizing she is in Havoc Marauder. She looked at her person seeing herself in a set of blacks and all areas bandaged were bandaged. At the foot of the bunk was her droid and her lightsabers, she got out of the bunk immediately feeling the weight and falling to her knees catching the side of the bunk.

“Shit...” Y/N frowns hearing the door slide open and quick steps over to her. “It’s been forever since I’ve felt like this...”

“Well. You have all the time in the world to tell me such, doll face” Cross states wrapping her arm around his shoulder and helping her back on her feet quickly moving his hands to her waist to keep her up. “What are you doing out of bed anyway?”

“How long was I out for?”

“Hm. A day? Nothing really happened. We’ve just been flying this entire time you were out cold.” He frowns feeling her hands hold onto the chest piece like she was going to die if let go again. “I’m sorry”

“For what? You didn’t—“

“I was angry. With the information of you being a Jedi. Then well. Your past came clear with that dathomirian”

“Cross...” Y/N frowns leaning against his body feeling him hold onto her with his dear life. “I’m too tired to stay mad...”

Crosshair held her close, anxious out of his mind thinking someone so small can be used to their breaking point. But what’s he to say about it.

The Bad Batch has been used countless times.

•

Home...

Isn’t a place

But a person

Y/N frowns stepping out of the Havoc and onto the small patch of grass in a small field surrounded by the forest. Endor’s moon was always beautiful even torn a few times. She felt her presence and stepped a few steps forward before eventually stopping when she locked eyes with the twi’lek with bluish green markings over the moss skin tone. She drops her supply bag and immediately ran toward Y/N holding her arms out before quickly picking the pace when Y/N fell forward wanting to run and meet half way. But her injuries said otherwise. But

“Thank god I’m a good catch right?” The twi’lek laughs holding Y/N tight feeling her squeeze.

“I missed you Reylen”

“Hey...you were going to come back one day” Reylen smiles with tears rolling off her cheeks. “Just had to find me first”

“Mhm....” Y/N held her tight sighing. “I really missed you Reylen”

“I know, fuck, me too”

After getting the batch’s ship in the underground facility’s hanger, Reylen took Y/N into the medical center she started up on Endor with respect of the Ewoks. She looked at every member of the batch while Y/N got into a gown for her own imaging.

The skull gives off a complete different attitude

He must’ve been through so much

Explosive personality

Something about him doesn’t match with the exterior

He’s anxious about her...so am I

“So you found Y/N in a hanger as a mechanic?”

“Mhm. Took her into our crew obviously. Didn’t know she was a Jedi at first”

“Mmm. When we first found out we just said someone with the force. She never really liked the Jedi. But that didn’t make her evil. She just. Couldn’t say no to it for much longer when they pursued her” Reylen states seeing Y/N step out and she thought it wasn’t going to be so bad externally. But the scars and bandaging says otherwise. “Uhm. I’d love to hear what happened but can I just say I’m lucky you’re still alive”

“Me too”

——

Y/N screams off the top of her lungs until the whole room shook with the agony. Odious just watched as she screams in pain and suffering when they forced the chip in her after tearing at her body to make it weak enough to make it...easier.

“You’ll be all mine soon sweet girl”

•

“I don’t know you”

“I know but I need it out and I can’t promise I won’t hurt you”

“Mind having binders?”

“Republic grade?”

“I’m not a smuggler for nothing”

“Fine”

A complete stranger put magnetized binders on Y/N’s wrists and ankles letting them attach to the metal table. He grabbed his multi-medial tool and immediately without a warning cut into the side of her head where the first scar lied and the same scream echoed out of her.

“I’ll be quick” he reassures as it was a struggle to get the inhibitor chip out but once it was.

Finally...

——

“You’re going to what? Here?”

“How do we know we can trust you?”

“Do you have medical training?”

“How long have you known this—-“

“Guys” Y/N stopped the batch from their rambling even if it was her safety on the line. “Reylen has medical training. She was a combat medic and now putting that into good use.”

“Y/N—“

“Echo told me what happened with Obi Wan. Don’t try and say this procedure could’ve happened at Coruscant at the Jedi temple”

“ECHO” Cross smacks his brother in the arm as Echo pushes him back.

“Obi Wan told everything about her to the council. The council banished her and forbid us from working with her until they investigated her inhibitor chip. We weren’t listening and just fucking left with her. Just be glad the 501st helped us smuggle her out of there!”

Reylen let’s them bicker before turning to Y/N and taking her hand into hers.

“You left me for them?”

“Rey. You’re always going to be a sister to me. These guys are...just the ones I needed after all that has happened. A wake up call and...a sense of protection”

“Well they’ll defend you alright. But seriously. The scanner says it’s beskar. We have to get it out sooner than later and you can stay here...with your boys. And recover”

“Reylen, what if Obi Wan doesn’t—“

“No. Shut up. We won’t think that way, alright? There’s a flaw with your chip that could lead to answers for the rest of the clone armies. Maybe explain the malfunctions that were reported years ago”

“I just....as much as I’m fine risking my life to die for them” Y/N looks at the five continuing to discuss their decision. “I can’t have them risk theirs for mine”

“Y/N, you have no idea how love works Huh?” Reylen teases patting her knee. “But as they continue to talk. I can get you prepped.”

As Reylen got up to go get what she needs, Y/N turned to the bad batch and was getting tired.

“UDESII” She yells catching them all off guard. Calm down.

“You know Mando’a”

“You have a lot of secrets”

“Yes, and I’m willing to share if you five shut up for a second...” Y/N glares at the five watching them all stop. “I’m getting the foreign body removed. Then I’ll be unable to do much. But afterward I’m going to work to get back up on my feet. You five don’t have to stay here if you want to get work out there while you’re on the run”

“Like we’re leaving you” Tech tells it dead on. “You’re apart of this crew rather you like it or not. Yes few didn’t like the fact that you kept the Jedi life a secret. But it all makes sense as to why. Not everybody shares their secrets or have them literally almost kill us on sight. But we went through that together recently. We—-I’m not leaving any time soon”

“Neither am I. Just. Hell. Tech puts it perfectly. We aren’t going anywhere” Wrecker states quickly out of nervousness.

“Exactly. You’re apart of this crew. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon” Hunter adds as Echo takes Y/N’s hand into his.

“With you until the end of the line”

“Ain’t going to leave, doll face. Going to take a whole lot more than an unexplainable past and a few dark faces” Crosshair states sitting with Y/N on the bed feeling her lean against him.

“Vor entye” Thank you

Taglist:

@xxeiraxx @fennign @meli-that-girl @Spp2011

#the bad batch #bad batch #the bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader #wrecker bad batch #crosshair bad batch #tech bad batch #echo bad batch #hunter bad batch #aboardthehavocmarauder

[tamorapierce]

Tammy's Spring 2020 Reading Recommendations For the Bored

Sooner or later the bookhounds among us are going to start joining my relentless song, from age five on up, of “I don’t have anything to read!!!!”

 I am here to help.  In this space, as I get to it (knowing, as my readers do, that I have no sense of deadline), I will be posting a constant set of collections of book titles by authors my team and I have read and will recommend in a wild variety of genres and for a wild variety of ages.  (And I’ll give a short hint as to the subject of the first book/series—if I did them all I’d never finish this.)  This last is for the many of you who are reading teen and adult books in grade and middle school, and those adult readers who are reading teen and kidlit. These people are for those who love books and don’t care who is supposed to be reading them.  

 Also, you may have to look far and wee, since we will be drawing upon not only recently published books but older ones that we have either read recently or that we read long ago and have re-read or have never forgotten.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you when the writing is archaic.  If you’re a true nutsy reader like the rest of us, you won’t care.

 -Tammy Pierce

                                                        *     *     *

Assume the book came out within the last 2 years unless I put LO next to the title, which means you have to check libraries and bookstores online and paper for copies.

 *     *     *

 Diana Wynne Jones  LO

A generation or two of fantasy writers, particularly those who love humor, bow to this woman as our goddess.  Not only was she out of her mind in a very British and manic way, but with her TOUGH GUIDE TO FANTASYLAND she taught a number of us to ditch some ill-considered tropes of our genre.  If you write historic fantasy in particular, move heaven and earth to track this book down.  There’s a bonus: some of the entries will make you laugh till you cry.

           She is best known for her books for middle grade and teens, but they are enjoyable for all readers.  I cannot list them all here because my fingers will break (curse you, arthritis!), but these titles will give you a jumping-off point.  And remember, authors change with each book, so you won’t encounter the same author with each title as the author you read in the previous one!

           The Chrestomanci books, all in the same universe, in order of story,

                       not publication

Charmed Life  (1977) An innocent lad follows his plotting egotistical sister to live with England’s chief wizard

The Lives of Christopher Chant (1988)

Conrad’s Fate (2005)

Witch Week (1982)

The Magicians of Caprona (1980)

Short stories

 The Dalemark Quartet begins with

The Spellcoats (1979)

3 sequels

 The Derkholm books are

Dark Lord of  (1998)

Year of the Griffin (2000)

  The Tough Guide to Fantasyland is standalone, but is a kind of offshoot of the Derkholm books.  You don’t have to have read the Derkholm books to get Tough Guide!

 There are other books and stories by Jones—I’ll let you find them on your own.

  Philip Pullman

To this day I am unable to call him anything but Mr. Pullman—that’s how much in awe of the man I am.  We’ve had dinner together, talked on the phone, talked at an event or two, done a conversation on audio with Christopher Paolini—it’s still Mr. Pullman to me.  (I was an assistant in a literary agency when I discovered his work, and I never recovered.) He is, in a word, brilliant, and his interests range through all kinds of areas, particularly history and religion.  I could have talked with him forever that night we had dinner, but the poor man had jet lag and I let him go to collapse.  It was one of the best exchanges of ideals, values, and books I’ve ever had.  

Read his work carefully, because what he discusses is never just the story on top.  No matter what he writes, he is making strong points about social justice, human nature, religion, and history without preaching.  He is one of the few male writers out there who can write female characters as people, not Something Different.  And you never know, with his work, where he will go next.

 The Ruby in the Smoke,

book 1,  the Sally Lockheart mysteries

Victorian mysteries with a female hero and male assistants,

           The Book of Dust and sequel,

first 2 books of The Secret Commonwealth

           His Dark Materials trilogy

                       The Golden Compass

                       2 other titles                

           THE COLLECTORS

           LYRA’S OXFORD

           THE WHITE MERCEDES

           FAIRY TALES FROM THE BROTHERS GRIMM

           I WAS A RAT!

           TWO CRAFTY CRIMINALS

           COUNT KARLSTEIN

           (I will stop here and let you find the rest. Most are available as Nook books.)

  Sharon Shinn

I discovered Sharon Shinn with JOVAH’S ANGEL, but a shortage of funds left me unable to pursue my interest (I am an economic disaster with libraries, so I buy rather than borrow) until, with a job and money to spend, I spotted THE SAFE-KEEPER’S SECRET.  It is the story of a medieval-ish world and a small village where a baby was left with a childless couple.  She is raised as their daughter and discovers, as she grows, that her mother is an important, a Safekeeper, the person to whom a secret can be told, relieving the person who told it of the weight of guilt from it, to be carried by the Safekeeper until the owner either decides to tell or dies.  (And if they die without giving permission, the Safekeeper never reveal the secret.)  The baby who is adopted by this town’s safekeeper becomes the safekeeper in her turn.

           The next book is THE TRUTHTELLER’S TALE, about a girl who acquires the gift (??) of telling the truth, whether the person she tells it to wants to hear it or not. The third book is The Dream-maker’s Magic.  The three main characters now learn why they have been brought together over the course of the two earlier books, in what I thought was a satisfying, if unusual, conclusion.

           And there’s more!  I just did the two I love best!

             THE SAFEKEEPER’S SECRET (book 1, two sequels)

           ARCHANGEL (4 books)

           TWELVE HOUSES (5 books)

           ELEMENTAL BLESSINGS (4 books)        

SHIFTING CIRCLE (2 books)

           UNCOMMON ECHOES

           GENERAL WINSTON’S DAUGHTER

           GATEWAY

 Daniel Jose Older

 I was a Daniel Jose Older fan before I was sent DACTYL HILL SQUAD for a blurb (preodactyls in flight!  Of all sizes!  Confederate spies!  Thuggish bigot northerners!  The backlash of Gettysburg and the forced recruitment of blacks for the war effort! And strong, smart, fierce kids of various ages, sizes, colors, national heritage, and skills doing their best to help the war against the slaves, keep escaped slaves safe, duck the cruel managers of the homes and jails where they are being kept, find a half-decent meal, free other kids in trouble, learn who’s killing their friends, and help the dactyls!  That’s part of it, anyway!

Yeah, I loved it.  And there’s at least one new book, and once I’ve mowed though that, there are his older teen books, and his grownup mysteries, with their half-dead taxi driver who doubles as a part-time troubleshooter for the undead powers in his Bone Street Rhumba series.  {happy sigh}

  Edgar Allen Poe

Yes, some of these are reminders of why we ended up to be the readers we are and to nudge us to corrupt—I mean, “introduce”—­new readers to the glories that are our legacies.

­

THE COMPLETE TALES AND POEMS OF EDGAR ALLEN POE

           Here are the greats:

poems like “The Raven,” and “Annabelle Lee”

stories like “The Fall of the House of Usher,” “The Telltale Heart,” and  ::shudder:: “The Pit and the Pendulum” (yes, a deep pit and a swinging pendulum topped with a razor-edged blade will be featured in this story).  

My dad would read these to us on dark and stormy nights when we lived near the Pacific ocean, when the fog came rolling in, softening every sound, when there were no cars driving by and no other sounds in our house but his deep voice and the crackle of the fire in the fireplace.  We would listen, soundless, as he wove the stories and poems around us and the foghorn sounded offshore.

           That’s the power of Poe.

  N. K. Jemisin

I think I began with Jemisin’s THE HUNDRED THOUSAND KINGDOMS, soon followed by its sequel THE BROKEN KINGDOMS.  The series ended with a third book, THE KINGDOM OF THE GODS.  She presented a rich and varied world from the aspects of people of different classes, showing the growth of societies and their formation.  I have a secret passion for society-building and social interaction, and whether or not a book is difficult to read (as Jemisin’s books are in spots because she refuses to insult a reader by talking down to them) is immaterial.  I want the world and I want the characters, and with her far-reaching mind and her respect for her characters she delivers each and every time.  I have read almost everything she’s written since that first trilogy: if I’ve missed something, it’s because I was in the middle of a deadline and on the road and somehow didn’t see it.  I’ll catch up!  This is just a sample:

           For readers of all sexes and adult reading skills

 The City They Became (pub’d April 2020)

 The Inheritance Trilogy:

           The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, 2010

           2 book sequels

Novella: The Awakened Kingdom, 2014

                       Triptych: Shades in Shadow, 2015 (3 short stories) 

             The Dreamblood Duology:

           For readers of all sexes and adult reading skills

           The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, 2010

                       Two sequels

 The Broken Earth series:

         The Fifth Season (August 2015)

                       Two book sequels

And there are plenty of short stories out there.  I may even have missed a book or twelve!

For those who prefer to hear my ramble in person, a video!

#tamora pierce #tortall #book reccs #book recommendations #YA #fantasy #science fiction #diana wynne jones #edgar allen poe #philip pullman #sharon shinn #daniel jose older #nk jemisin

[revasserium]

beauty as a perspective (or a study of truth through the lens of a boy who has always believed in fairy-tales)

anon: And it is beautiful with Hinata First love with kageyama? Please :) 

101. and it is beautiful hinata ; 1.8k words

there are so many things he considers to be beautiful -- the sunrise, the sunsets, the way the moon lingers on the horizon after a whole midsummer’s night, like it’s waiting for the first rays of sunlight to spill across the world, the way the stars are relentless in their twinkling, as if emboldened by the darkness that beholds their very beings -- that they are made all the brighter by night’s all-consuming dark. 

there are other things too -- a well-aimed spike, crystal cut and down the line, right next to the pole, a perfectly arched toss, slow enough for thought, but too fast for the opponents to follow, the double-rolling saves that noya-sempai had promised to teach him and still hasn’t gotten around to, the way a clean sneaker sounds against the well-waxed floor of a freshly cleaned gym, the sound of a volleyball meeting skin, the flutter of a net, the chorus of voices as it echoes towards the ceiling. 

the cheers of the crowds when a point gets scored. when a match is won. 

the weight of happiness, so light and yet so, so heavy too, enough to make his bones feel like they’re filled with gold or silver or maybe magic itself. he thinks there’s nothing more beautiful than playing... and winning. 

until he meets you. 

your name breezes through him like a summer wind through wheat, leaving no part of him unruffled and untouched, all this thoughts tangled and out of ordered, but so beautifully so. he watches you go like a child watching the end of a really good dream, powerless to stop it, but still with the naïve hope that perhaps, if he just kept his eyes open (or closed) for a moment longer, maybe, just maybe you’ll stay -- 

“hinata-kun, its your turn to help clean the classrooms.” 

he snaps out of his reverie (did you know that’s the word for daydream in french? how fitting, right? and when tsukki had asked, drop-jawed and all, where the hell hinata had learned such a thing, all he could do was shrug and blush and say he’d read it somewhere -- to tsukki’s compounded shock and confoundment), the teacher is watching him with a hiked eyebrow, and half the class was giggling. but you, you’re standing next to his desk with a sweet, expectant smile and he’s lost all over again. 

(who was he, anyway? before he knew what your smile looked like? what your voice sounds like? what the color of your hair was beneath the morning sun, or in the golden glow of dusk?) 

“let’s do our best, hm?” you offer him your hand. 

hinata had never wished for after class chores to last forever, but he has now. 

he doesn’t know how you get onto the topic of volleyball, but it always ends up there somehow... with him -- and he finds himself rambling like he always does when he’s nervous, blabbing out an invite because yeah! it’s pretty cool! and there’s a practice match today! and oh, yeah! i’m on the starting lineup and of course you can come watch! i’m super awesome y’know! -- 

and then the horrifying, daunting realization that he’s going to have to play. with you watching him. with your eyes, like pools of amber so deep and clear they remind him of melted caramel during the holiday school fairs, with your smile like tasting a favorite treat after a long, hard day’s practice, with your laughter and your voice like -- like -- 

“what’s this? hinata’s brought a friend?” there’s something in the texture of suga-sempai’s voice that hinata isn’t sure he likes but he’s too nervous to call it out at the moment. instead, he tries desperately to explain why the hell he’d brought you along, not that he’s really sure either, other than the fact that he doesn’t ever want you to leave his sight ever again in his whole life but, well, he can’t really say that out loud without sounding like a freak -- 

“uh -- it’s not -- i mean, yeah! we’re friends! i think so at least -- well anyway -- ahhhhh -- she likes volleyball and there’s a practice match today and i told her she could come and watch cause i’m really awesome at it and she just moved here from tokyo, or actually she stayed in france for a while before that! can you believe it? hey -- wait do you know kenma from nekoma? they’re from tokyo too, right --?” 

kageyama fixes him with a flatlined look even as you smile. 

“she’s not from the same school, idiot.” 

hinata puffs up as he turns to kageyama but thankfully, daichi is there to pull them apart before things get really nasty. he flashes you a sincere and somewhat apologetic grin. 

“ah, thanks for coming. you can find a seat up there, and uhm -- welcome to karasuno.” 

hinata finds himself watching you go (he nearly yells when you wave at him from the second level, that is until kageyama elbows him so hard in the side he actually does yell). 

“focus, boke!” 

“shut up, crappyama!” 

“ha? what did you say?” 

“both of you, quiet!” 

they both flinch at the sound of daichi’s voice. 

but hinata can’t help stealing another glance towards you, thinking that this feels different, somehow. different than all the other practice matches he’s played before. it’s like his vision is sharper, all his senses on high alert -- he can smell the sweat on his teammates’ skin, can see each spec of light as it refracts off of the newly waxed gym floors, can feel the weight of your eyes on him like a superhero’s cloak -- beautiful and full of responsibility. 

and he plays well that day, he thinks -- got a few really solid quick’s in, and he only messed up on two of his serves, which, all things considered, is probably a record low for him. kageyama only yelled at him five times, also on the low side. 

they manage to scrape a win, and it was mostly asahi-san’s doing -- noya-sempai being awesome as ever, too. still, he thinks it’s been a good day. he almost forgets that you’re watching for a while, but only for a while, and as the match draws to a close, he’s again keenly aware of your eyes on him. 

he turns to grin up at you, shooting you a thumbs up. he finds you no longer sitting, but standing by the railings, your eyes huge and happy as you wave down at him. there’s a flush to your face that makes him want to walk off a bridge right into a very, very cold river but he shelves that thought for later as you make your way down the stairs, jogging right up to him, your smile so brilliant he thinks he might go blind if he stared too long. 

he blinks, still dripping sweat down his now very wet uniform. 

“shouyou! you were amazing! i mean, you are amazing --!” 

he almost jolts at your use of his given name, but then he remembers you asking (because you liked the sound of it or something; he’d forgotten what you said after that cause he was too busy marinating in the fact that you liked the sound of his name) if you could call him that. and him saying yes. 

“for a while there it looked like you were flying, like really flying!” 

he nods along with your excitement, his smile growing so wide his cheeks are starting to hurt and god, what what happen if he just kept on smiling wider and wider? what would happen to his face? would it stretch and keep on stretching? or maybe he’ll accidentally split his face in half and have to get stitches from the hospital, which wouldn’t be fun but for you, he thinks, it’s worth it. 

“y-yeah! cool! right?” he leaps ups as if to illustrate, but as with all things he does on a spur of the moment impulse, it doesn’t go quite as planned. he ends up smacking his head on the doorframe of double gym doors, leaving him whining, curled up into a ball on the ground, and you kneeling by his side. 

“shouyou? are -- are you okay? oh my god, what happened?” 

he winces as he pushes himself up into a sitting position, grinning awkwardly up at you. 

“i wanted to show you!” 

“show me what?” 

“what it looks like to fly!” 

tanaka is fussing over hinata, loudly asking if he’ll get a concussion while tsukki is remarking to that getting a concussion might be good for him; noya and tanaka are both laughing so hard they’re also curled up on the ground. 

you giggle, “save some flying for next time.” 

“for... next time?” 

“yeah, for the next time you play.” 

“will... will you be there?” 

you smile, nodding, offering him a hand. 

“if you want me to be.” 

“yes! yeah -- oh man, i do! i really really --” 

“good, then i’ll be there.” 

“aahh, that’s amazing! super great! ahhhh i’m so --- mmmm -- i’m so happy!” 

he leaps up and is about to jump up again before he realizes you hadn’t let go of his hand yet. 

he blinks, heat washing up his face like jumping head-first into a steaming onsen. 

“hey! you said you’d save some for next time, right?” 

hinata laughs, “right -- for next time.” 

you give his hand a squeeze before letting go, turning to greet his teammates. hinata watches you, like he’s been doing from the second he’d set eyes on you a week and a half ago, when you’d introduced yourself to the class. 

like when he’d all too enthusiastically volunteered to show you around the school, like when the pair of you had stopped in the library, and you’d run your fingers along the spines of all the books like greeting old friends. 

like when you flipped open a book of fairy-tales and traced the outline of a boy with melting wax wings, plummeting from the sky. 

“you know, i used to always daydream about flying as a kid,” you said. 

hinata quirked his head, “why?” 

you smiled, “dunno, seemed like a fun thing to do.” 

hinata smiled then too, “well, it’s not that hard.” 

you looked at him, “you... know how to fly?” 

“sure i do!” 

you laughed, then, but not a mocking kind of laugh -- a delighted, dancing kind of laugh that made hinata’s whole chest fill with hot air and helium. 

“you promise to show me some day?” 

hinata had nodded so hard his head might’ve come right off it’s hinges. 

“hey, what’s ‘daydream’ in french?” he asked. 

you blink at him, “reverie.” 

“wow... beautiful.” 

you laughed again, nodding, “it is, isn’t it?” 

and he decides then, watching as you smile at something suga-sempai says, as you quirk your head curiously at kageyama, making him flush a hilarious shade of crimson as well, that sure, there are a lot of beautiful things in this world. 

but none of them quite so beautiful as you. 

#haikyuucreations #haikyuu!! #haikyuu imagines #hinata shouyou #haikyuu headcanons #hinata shouyou x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shōyō #hinata #floofy floof floof #haicuties #idk where the title came from dont ask me #ah its so fitting that the first two things i write are kageyama and hinata pieces lol like i said not much has changed #god i cant wait to reread the final arc and write the shit out of timeskip hinata and kageyama #fuCK timeskip everyone go d i love grownup casts #the ending took my soul and trampled it in the best of ways and just wow i have a lot of eelings and thoughts about it #but yeah anyway as always stan hinata and kageyama they legit dont get enough love eventho they be the fuckin main characters okay

[jungshookz]

CHAPTER FIVE; The dust.

(1) it begins; (2) a cry for help; (3) the investigation; (4) the basement

                          Player has chosen: [A] Follow Namjoon!

“oh, god, okay-!” you bounce up and down on the balls of your feet in an attempt to hype yourself up, “okay, i can do this, we can do this-!”

you grip tightens around your little flashlight as you shine it down the hallway, but it doesn’t seem to do anything which doesn’t make you feel very confident in the choice you’re about to make

“come on…” you grumble, shaking the light from side to side to see if that does anything

it’s almost like the darkness is absorbing any kind of light

great!

so you’re about to run down a dark hallway and you literally can’t see anything

“Y/N-!”

the haunting echo of namjoon’s desperate cries makes you jump and you shake your head quickly before puffing your cheeks out and letting out a breath

you have to follow namjoon!!

by the time you run back to find the others, he’ll be long gone!!

there’s no time!!

“I’M COMING, NAMJOON-!” you holler, forcing any semblance of doubt ouT of your mind before suddenly bursting into a sprint

the sound of your shoes slapping down against the floor bounces off the walls around you

you feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest

it doesn’t take very long for the darkness to completely consume your vision, and you find yourself speeding up thanks to the copious amount of adrenaline currently coursing through your veins

“piece of shit-!” you curse, hastily tossing the useless flashlight over your shoulder when you realise that it’s doing nothing to help you

you feel the breeze blowing past your face and your hair whipping behind you as you continue to run

you have no idea where this hallway leads to or if it even ends because you feel like you’ve been running for way longer than you should be

like you feel like at this point you would’ve crashed into a corner or something

is this just.., an eternal hallway?!

once again: WHO designed this damn house?!!?

“Y/N, HURRY-!”

“HOLD ON, NAMJOO- oH-!” a gasp slips past your lips when you suddenly find yourself stumbling to the ground

you let out a groan when your knees collide with the marble floors before your palms smack down on it

and when you look up-

what the hell?

“what the hell?” you breathe out, your eyes widening when you realise that you’re…

you’re back in the kitchen.

“what the hell-!” you scramble up onto your feet before turning to where the corridor-

you feel like bursting into tears when you see that the corridor’s been replaced with a wall

oh god

okay

okay!

what should you do now?

“find everyone, i-i should find everyone-” you nod to yourself before turning back to head to the swinging double doors, “f-find everyone, and then we’ll save joon together-”

you run out of the kitchen to head back to the main area, slowing down your pace when you see that no one’s at the meeting spot

it has to have been more than twenty minutes

“guys?” you breathe out, reaching out to run a hand through your hair 

you said twenty minutes and everyone HAD to be be back here, no exceptions!

could it be that,.,.,. 

that the house is taken the others, too?

“oh, come on…” you place your hands on your hips before looking up at the chandelier, “come on!”

you’re tempted to just call out for the boys, but you feel like attracting attention to yourself isn’t exactly the best idea

and-

“y/n, there you are!”

you spin around to see jungkook and a couple of the others walking towards you, “we’ve been looking all over for you!”

you smile for the first time since being here when you see that taehyung, yoongi, hoseok, and seokjin are trailing behind jimin and jungkook

that’s good

that’s good, because now all you have to do is find namjoon together (you’re never going to suggest splitting up ever again) and then you guys can get the hell out of here

it’s probably the wrong moment to think of this, but you feel a little disappointed knowing that you’re going to have to give up your starbucks coupon

you were going to treat yourself to a venti the next time you went to starbucks and now you’ll have to pay full-priCE

…damn

maybe you should’ve paired up with jimin

taehyung was a useless teammate!

“you guys! oh, thank god.” you breathe out, bending over and placing your hands on your knees, “you have no idea what i’ve been through-”

“we’ve been through exactly what you’ve been through,” hoseok chirps, shuddering before wrapping his arms around himself, “this house gives me the creeps!

“we can’t leave just yet because we still haven’t-”

“no offence, but you look winded-” yoongi snorts, tilting his head, “what, did you just run a marathon?”

“no!” your breathing is still a little shallow but your heart has calmed down significantly now that you’re here with the boys, “i just-”

“i’m pretty tired. there are a lot of staircases in this house!” seokjin butts in, wincing as he shakes his legs out, “i mean, seriously. why not put everything on one level? that’s what i would’ve done if i built this place.”

this is getting ridiculous

if everyone would just shut up for one second so you can explain the vERY important situation, that would be really nice!

“okay, yeah- can you let me-”

“hey, by the way- why’d you abandon me in the kitchen?” taehyung frowns before swinging his bat so it’s sitting up over his shoulder, “some teammate you are.”

“what?” you shake your head in disagreement, slightly confused as to why taehyung’s acting so casual about the mysterious disappearing corridor

you can’t help but wonder if… maybe everyone’s been experiencing different versions of the house?

does that even make any sense?

taehyung says that you abandoned him - maybe the house made him think that you abandoned him

“you abandoned me! one second, we were in the kitchen. the next second, you weren’t there anymore. that’s not how a team works, y/n-”

okay

you don’t have time to figure out the ins and outs of this terrifying maze house because there’s currently a broken, floppy-armed namjoon somewhere who needs your guys’ help

“i didn’t abandon you- look, there’s no time-!” you wave your hands in front of you, “there’s no time, we have to go and save-”

“before you say anything-” jungkook holds his finger up to shut you up before stepping aside, “look who we found!”

your heart immediately drops to your stomach when namjoon steps out from behind him, looking perfectly fine

what?

how is that possible?

“nam- but-” you stammer, slowly raising your hand to point at namjoon, “b-but i saw you-”

“jungkook and jimin told me about the competition…” he smiles at you before holding both perfectly functioning and not at all dislocated arms behind his back, “i wanted you and tae to win, but you guys were taking forever!”

“i guess this means jimin and i are the best team ever.” jungkook kisses his teeth before shrugging, moving aside when namjoon turns to reenter the huddle, “what can i say? you should’ve stuck with me.”

“looks like i get to keep my strawberry flavoured condom.” jimin giggles, “and that starbucks coupon of yours…”

you tune out the sound of jimin’s voice as you look around at everyone

something isn’t right

well, you already knew that something isn’t right with this house, but now…

you glance at hoseok, noticing that he no longer has a smile on his face - he stares off into space with a blank expression, his eyelids blinking lazily

five minutes ago, you were with namjoon in that basement

your eyes trail over to yoongi, who coughs into his fist before clearing his throat quietly

he opens his mouth and reaches up to grip his face with one hand before moving his jaw from side to side

crack-crack-crack

four minutes ago, you were leaving that basement with namjoon and finding it weird that the corridor had suddenly returned

taehyung and seokjin are both shifting in their spots, twitching and occasionally scratching at their skin every now and then a little too aggressively for your liking

in fact, they’re scratching themselves so hard that red marks are starting to appear in their skin

three minutes ago, you were desperately clinging to namjoon - and feeling his arms dislodge from their sockets - because something in the darkness was yanking him away from you

and when you look over at namjoon, you’re more than uncomfortable to see him standing as still as a statue, staring directly at you with a small smile on his face

he’s not blinking either

two minutes ago, you were chasing namjoon down a dark hallway only to end right back up in the kitchen

you feel your stomach starting to do flip-flops when you look down, noticing that jungkook’s hand doesn’t seem to be lining up with his bones - the flesh is all loose and wrinkly - you jump when he suddenly reaches down to yank down the sleeve of his sweater so that most of his hand is covered up

one minute ago, you ran back to the main area and turned to see 7/8 - or, 8/8 boys walking towards you, all looking perfectly fine

“y/n? what’s the matter with you?” jimin stops mid-ramble before frowning in concern, “is everything okay?”

and since when did jimin have such sunken, grey bags under his eyes?

you swallow thickly when it hits you

not only is something not quite right with this house-

something isn’t quite right…

with the boys.

“yes!” you blurt out, feeling your heart beginning to pound in your chest again, “everything’s fine. sorry! i’m just… just a little hungry, i guess. haven’t eaten in hours.”

“ah. i see.”

you feel the blood drain from your face when you start to notice small specks of dust floating around the group of boys, and your eyes flicker to the side to see if there’s dust anywhere else

no

the dust seems to just centre around them and nothing else

okay

don’t panic

do NOT panic

act normal

as far as you’re concerned, your only goal now is to get yourself out of this house

“well, we should-” your voice wavers a little and you clear your throat, “now that we’ve found everyone, we should probably get out of here.” you turn on your heel before heading towards the two large doors - that you’re assuming and hoping to be the front doors - speeding up a little when you hear the boys start to move

“we should!” jungkook chirps, “…or we could stay.”

your shoes screech against the marble floors as you come to a halt

you turn your head slightly, “and why would we- why would we do that?”

“don’t you wanna stay here?” taehyung takes one large step to the side so that he’s standing on the right side of jungkook

“we could play hide and seek!” jimin offers, taking a large step as well so that he’s on the right side of jungkook

“i don’t… i don’t want to play.” you reach out for the doorknob and give it a twist, “i wanna go. i-i wanna leave.”

it doesn’t budge

you grab the other knob before trying to turn it as well - even going as far as to yank at it - but you try to stay calm because you don’t wanna show the boys how desperate you are to get out of here

the other one doesn’t budge either

you feel a lump growing in your throat when you realise that you don’t know how to leave this hous-

“you can’t leave without saying goodbye, first.”

what?

you turn around slowly, unsettled to see that the boys are now standing in some sort of arrow formation with jungkook in the front

their faces have now changed - they look like themselves, except their skin is paler, their eyes are impossibly wide, and their mouths are all turned up in a smile that basically goes from ear to ear

“g-goodbye to who?” your voice is barely above a whisper and you step back to press yourself up against the door when they take one step forward together

“goodbye to Her.”

you can hear jungkook’s voice as clear as day, but his mouth isn’t moving at all and is just frozen in that hideously wide grin 

more and more speckles of dust begin to swirl around them and you find that you’re unable to look away from their faces

they just look so…

so creepy

“wh-who is… who is…” your chest starts to rise and fall a little quicker and you wrap your fingers around the knob blindly before giving it another twist, “who are you talking about?”

“oh, y/n… don’t you see? She has been waiting for you.”

all of their heads suddenly snap back so they’re all looking at the farthest corner of the room and you lean over a little to look as well

“oh, god.” you whimper upon noticing a shadow emerging from the darkness, “what the fuck?”

more and more dust starts to appear around it, and you can see it slowly becoming a three-dimensional figure

it suddenly leaps forward before crouching down, moving in a way so that the bones in its shoulders seem to be shifting

it rises to its feet slowly before leaping once again

“She wishes for your smile…”

you hear jimin’s voice in place of jungkook’s and you quickly look back over at the group

he’s the only one looking at you, while the others are still facing away

he tilts his head slowly before hooking two fingers into either sides of his mouth and stretching his mouth into an even wider grin, his skin almost comically elastic 

“and your smile, She shall get.”

the shadow starts to move faster, almost prancing from one random spot to another

you can feel it staring directly at you even though it doesn’t have any eyes

“no, no-!” you press yourself up harder against the door and blindly reach behind you, the knob now rattling from how hard you’re twisting and pulling at it

She’s coming for you

and She’s coming for you now.

What do ÿ̴̧̭̝́͂͆o̶̫͇͓͂̂̇u̸̺̟̟͆̋͘ ̵̞͊w̴̠̦̹̓̏a̶̜̱̾͋̑n̵͔̖̰̄̈́t̵̥́̔͝ ̷̥̜́̆to do?

> [A] RUN! Why are you still standing here? Get out of here now!  

> [B] STAY AND FIGHT! You’ve kept yourself alive for this long - you can (probably) take her, right? 

Place your vote ḥ̵̗̀̑̄ẽ̸͓̻̾̇r̸̮̿͘e̶̙̐.

You have one hour.

Good luck.

#choh2020 #choh2020 drabbles

[darkelite020]

Bad Batch thoughts & predictions Ep 12

Continuing these written reactions/predictions somewhere cause itd be fun I think to see what actually ends up happening and remembering what I thought at the time so im dumping it here, youre welcome. (Feel free to discuss if you want) if you want to keep up with it im gonna be tagging these as #jay rambles about bb

- So I sort of expected it by the end of last episode but it seems like last episode was a start of an episode arc about hera's family, which, for rebel's fans I'm sure it's cool and exciting and maybe answers some questions or will actually show things discussed in rebels maybe, but as someone who hasn't seen rebels yet, I really hope this episode and the next few have more bad batch screentime, cause we were a little robbed last episode lol (but in a way I do still enjoy this stuff too, because im sure when I DO watch rebels it'll make the experience better). -- I'm not disliking this arc or anything, but up to this point we've kind of had almost mandalorian style 'one episode one adventure' sorts of episodes, and personally I really hope we get more of that (which I think we will), because while this is all new content and everything, we all have to admit clone wars had some less interesting filler arcs here and there, and I just hope bb doesn't fall the same way (across all of its seasons, im not very concerned about it so far from what we've seen of season 1) because if there is filler, I'd rather sit through a couple of the one episode stories, rather than a 3-4 episode story that takes nearly a month to get through if im disliking it, mostly for the fact that even if we got those 1 ep fillers, its more stories and more likely I'd like at least one. ---kinda rambling about this unnecessarily atm cause while again right now I think bb is fine, I just want the future to be that way too. - fffff every time I see howzer on screen I think of that fucking audio thats "here comes the boy, hello boy~" and honestly can you blame me he is so precious like ugh I swear dave you better be nice to him -- YOU CAN TELL HE FEELS SO BAD AND GUILTY LIKE IT HURTS - hey admiral can you not be MEAN to howzer when he is trying to be fucking helpful -- ;-; BRO im saying it so much already but I feel so bad for howzer like dude someone help him --- imo it feels like its sort of setting up howzer for something more important in the show kinda, at least for his character. Like we can clearly tell he doesn't really agree with the empire and I think they're going to do something with that. He's probably undercover for someone against the empire but I get the bad feeling they're gonna pull a Fives and have him go against the empire and help everyone else somehow but then he will probably end up dead because we cant have nice things. - hello cross... bet you wont be saved this episode - Ok good, some more bad batch here already. -- ALSO GONKY BEING DEFECTIVE!!!! EVEN GONKY IS DEFECTIVE LIKE BB THATS SO CUTE! - uh, im not the only one getting the leia transmission vibes from hera, right? -- ok, again I haven't seen rebels so I dont know BUT if hera has the ability to talk to bb, couldn't she have done so in rebels? Yeah she's older and im sure better at fighting and defending herself and all that, but wouldn't it still be possible for her to have gotten in some kind of rough situation in Rebels to ask for bb's help again? I super doubt bb made any appearance of any kind in Rebels, so doesn't that imply that she lost communications with them? What happens to bad batch >> - bad batch not wanting to help but because omega really wants to you can see its making hunter soften up and I appreciate it - bruh what??? Taa is dead af, like theres no way the show is gonna pull some magic and be like 'oh yep here he is' thing??? Like this has to be a lie, but even then, what even is the plan here?? Saying "oh hes recovering" well he can't be recovering forever, how does that seem like a good plan to lie about that?? People are gonna find out?? - "Great just what we need" from Wrecker about crosshair MAKES ME ANGRY LIKE??? YES?? DONT BE MAD AT HIM ITS NOT HIS FAULT??? SAVE YOUR FUCKING BOY??? -- oooo then the rest of bb doesn't comment about it literally gsjrkgbdkfbg why do they not care about him???? Like it seems they legitimately dont care about crosshair, even though theyve been together for so long like even before the show came out they

had history together and were all really close. I know people argue "oh well its just difficult to save him and its unrealistic for them right now" but so what? Even if they aren't trying to save him they should at least CARE about him. --- Which is also like the thing with echo and fives!!!! Like Echo didn't seem to care much at all when Rex mentioned fives even a little! Or even about seeing Rex that much!! Dave I'm gonna need some answers my guy, cause you humanized these characters but then you dont make them act that way so like whats up. - Lucky hunters abilities came in handy - Back to crosshair for a second im predicting they 100% arent saving him this season. There was a poster released part way through the season and he's not even on it... makes me so sad. - "I'd do the same for you." ;-; that didnt need to get that deep - CROSSHAIR BETTER NOT START SHIT WITH HOWZER - Howzer helping Hera's parents or at least implying that is good but that also means im right so far and therefore worried >> -- HES GOING TO GET FUCKING CAUGHT I BET TALKING TO THEM LIKE THIS AT SOME POINT AND HOW MUCH DO YOU WANNA BET ITS GONNA BE CROSSHAIR THAT CATCHES HIM --- Cham stfu its literally so obvious that howzer is trying to be genuine, also if he's kind of undercover for him like what the fuck do you expect howzer to do if he has to play along with the empire to keep his cover?? "Won't make that mistake again" Fuck off like honestly. ---- #stopbeingmeantohowzer2021 - "A little help" and the gentle "Hey" ahh love it - I'm really enjoying this whole them fighting in the ships sequence - "Stay here and guard the capitol" SCARES ME -- Please for the love of god bad batch don't get howzer killed --- or plot B Bad batch maybe run into howzer but save him and take him with you at least temporarily ---- oh god.... bb is helping heras parents escape and that means howzers gonna get in trouble.../probably replaced by crosshair - Crosshair is smart but thats also badddd - The scene of howzer and crosshair looking at each other is killing meeeeeeeee - Ohhh is howzer gonna stop them before they go out the door? -- YES HE IS SEE WHAT A GOOD BOY HE IS - (please fucking listen to him I beg) - Aw dude I just had a thought that breaks my heart... howzer cares about his squad and "trying to get through to them" but what if his squad is clones as well and the chips... that hurts me so badly... -- Like we all know howzer is a sweet boy by now but ughhh like the thought that he doesnt want to leave them even though they are doing whats wrong shows just how much he cares and I really hope he doesn't get into trouble because of what he's saying to them, but you know he totally would do it because he seems to care about them so much and :( bad batch more like sad batch --- This is the kind of compassion I wanted from bb for crosshair hunter kind of looks back at howzer as they leave him and I doubt itll mean anything but I really hope that maybe seeing how much howzer cares will make hunter care a little too... - *sigh* howzer is getting left behind by them which we know why but yeah... now he's definitely going to be in trouble... I just hope they don't hurt him... - OH GOD HOWZER BABY DONT -- He's making a speech and I know he's trying to sway them but you know damn well this is gonna go so badly for him because of the chips and crosshair is watching so you know howzer is gonna get fucked here and I know what hes trying for but I really wish he didnt just do that because now its blatantly obvious he's gonna be against them ;-; - Wow ok im kinda shocked people are siding with him (I guess cause theyre not all clones right) but I feel so bad for themmmmm - Crosshair missed multiple shots? Uh what? I didnt think that was possible lol - bb please come back for howzer and the others at some point.... -- I guess maybe if hera's parents are going to organize rebels against the empire maybe they will help them but I somewhat doubt it... - Ok I know that crosshair requesting to hunt them was supposed to be this big moment and all but I

can't help but feel like its a little underwhelming (but dont get me wrong still cool vibes) because he's kind of already been doing that anyway?? Or has tried to several times?? So I don't get why its a big deal, however, I do have a possible prediction: We know that bb got their chips removed, (crosshair doesn't, I know that) and so that eliminates the idea that they will get caught and actually go bad like crosshair, but it does leave a possibility where maybe they get captured and then *pretend* to be bad? And that could lead to a better possibility of helping crosshair (they wont) or maybe howzer and the other rebels or something? Cause I also feel like its significant that they brought up how the war will eventually come to them and bb will be a part of it no matter what eventually, and it makes obvious sense theyd be on the rebels side of it, so maybe something like that goes on, idk.

#bad batch #bad batch spoilers episode 12 #I would still die for howzer honestly he just continues to prove he is the sweetest boy #tcw spoilers #jay rambles about bb #star wars #the clone wars #bad batch spoilers #the bad batch

[cabinofimagines]

It’s Delicate (Jason Grace xFem!Reader)

A/N: *Walks in with an iced coffee and sunglasses on* So you guys won’t believe the YEAR that I had, but I’m ending it on a good note and with Christmas specials, so the bad vibes can SUCK IT (also Jason and reader are like 20y/o in the story and for reasons they live in New York)

Words: 1,620

Warnings: Angst. But not really. Look, idk what I did but i TRIED- (this is not proofread so beware the mistakes.

Request: Can you pls do a Jason Grace x Reader? Where Jason says something during an argument that'll hurt the reader and they don't make up then Reader almost dies in an attack and he's going to think that it was probably the last thing he said to reader before reader dies but reader lives in the end. Really angsty, please? Lmaoi hope u understand what i just sent u // How about a songfic with Taylor Swifts delicate with Jason x reader?

This ain't for the best My reputation's never been worse, so You must like me for me We can't make Any promises now, can we, babe?

Jason gets the call from Chiron five minutes after he gets home from the busy streets of the city.

Y/N was attacked while going on a quest on her own. Badly. He’s not sure she’ll make it.

He hangs up and sits on the couch, the shock of the news force him to stay still for a moment, trying to process what his old mentor just said.

Y/N was attacked.

She won’t make it.

And all he can think about is how the last thing he said to her was “Sometimes I wonder why are we still together.”

He fucked up, Y/N stormed out of their bedroom and left the apartment without a word, He’d assumed she was staying at camp since it was the second place she thought of as her home besides their place. He hadn’t visited her all those days cause he thought it was better if he kept his distance for a while, they would make up before Christmas anyway.

Phone lights up my nightstand in the black Come here, you can meet me in the back Dark jeans and your Nikes, look at you

Jason spends the next hour calling Piper and Leo, the panic slipping through his voice while he tells them he has to go to camp but he doesn’t want to be alone cause Y/N is dying and he can’t do it, he can’t say goodbye like this. His friends tell him that they’ll be there in a couple of hours and that he just has to be strong in the meantime and go over at camp, that he can’t lose hope yet, cause Y/N might still survive.

He picks up a pair of dark jeans and his shoes, he changes quickly and grabs the keys of his car, passing by the mirror on the entrance. He stops to look at his reflection. It surprises him how utterly devastated he looks after a few hours of contemplating the possibility of losing his girlfriend. 

This scares him, he doesn’t want to know how will he look after a month without Y/N.

He stops a taxi and tells them indications of where they need to drive. The driver gives him a weird look but says nothing, obeying after Jason shows him the few dollars he has with him. 

While he’s inside the car with nothing else but his own thoughts, he can’t help but think of her, of how stupid he was when they fought.

Is it cool that I said all that? Is it chill that you're in my head? 'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate) Is it cool that I said all that Is it too soon to do this yet?

“Jason for the last time, can you please just clean the table when you’re not working on your project?” Y/N asks, pushing away some blueprints and accidentally dropping some on the floor.

“Hey, can you at least be careful with those?” Jason retorts, standing up from the couch and leaving his laptop abandoned on the coffee table, “if I lose one the gods that are left with no altars will hunt me down”

“Well, is not my fault that you’re so messy,” She groans, sitting in front of her plate and staring at him, “I don’t like that you spend so much time doing those, you’ve been on this project since we were seventeen, Jason. You have to finish it.” 

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” He grumbles, harshly taking the blueprints from the table and walking away towards their room, “I work all the time so i can finish and you stop bickering about it.”

“Bickering?” Y/N asks offended, “excuse me? I’m just worried about you!”

“Really? Cause it sounds more like you’re tired of me” He replies from the bedroom.

Y/N stands up and goes to the room, she sees Jason there, carefully putting the blueprints inside a drawer.

“I’m not tired of you, don’t be stupid,” She crosses her arms, “I’m just sick of seeing these all over the house, why don’t you keep them in one place?”

“Cause they’re too many.”

“Well take some to camp, I know they’ll be safe back there.”

“I can’t, I need to have them with me in case I have to make changes.”

“Changes?” She huffs, “Jason, they don’t need changes, they need to be done.”

“I know that!” He groans, finally turning around and frowning, “it’s easy for you to say it, you’re not doing anything, you just go to school and come back here to eat and sleep, oh, how busy is your life.”

“Oh, shut up,” Y/N retorts, “you don’t know all the assignments I have to do to keep my good grades. And I wasn’t judging your productivity, by the way, but you’re just stressed and in a bad mood, so whatever, I’m not gonna fight with you.”

“Oh, you’re not gonna fight? You were the one who started,” He scowls, “you come home and you complain, we do nothing but fight and argue about the altars. Gods, sometimes I even wonder why are we still together.”

Long night, with your hands up in my hair Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share 'Cause I like you

He arrives at camp at midnight, the snow outside the limits of camp cuts short where Thalia’s tree is, a clear sign of magic. He walks fast towards the big house, luckily for him, no harpies try to eat him and he gets to the door safely. He pushes it open.

“Chiron?” He asks out loud, “Mr. D?”

He walks towards the stairs and goes to the second floor, immediately he sees the light coming from one of the rooms on his right and get closer, opening the door without knocking.

Inside there’s a young demigod that he doesn’t know and Chiron in his wheelchair.

“You can go to sleep, Mylo,” Says the centaur, looking over at the young boy.

The demigod looks over at Jason in mild admiration. The younger groups do that a lot, knowing all about the prophecy of the seven, and how he and his friends saved the world. Jason gives him a polite smile and walks in, holding his breath.

Y/N is asleep, but her skin looks drained from any color and her lips look chapped. When he gets closer, Chiron starts to explain the situation.

“Y/N was in a mission to get rid of a group of Cyclops, one of their arrows went through her abdomen and another went through her shoulder blade. She got to escape and call for help but when we found her she was unconscious... Mylo did all he could to take care of her, he’s Apollo’s.”

Jason sat miserably on the chair where Mylo was moments ago, he carefully reached to touch her hair, with erratic movements he put a strand behind her ear and then held her hand tightly like it was the only thing keeping her tied to the mortal world.

“I’ll leave you alone,” Chiron left the room and closed the door behind him. 

Jason felt helpless, it all looked so definitive like everyone already had accepted Y/N’s death. He couldn’t, as long as her breathing was steady, he would have hope and he was determined to wait forever.

He needed her to stay.

Sometimes I wonder when you sleep Are you ever dreaming of me?

Two days had gone by and Y/N showed no sign of waking up, Leo and Piper made sure to leave food so Jason would eat, sometimes even staying in the room with him and trying to cheer him up, but Jason never really paid attention to what they were saying, his eyes were on her all the time, waiting, hoping to see her move, or even talk in her sleep, anything that could let him know she was still alive.

Was she dreaming? If so, about what... was her mortal life or her demigod life? 

Did she dream about him? Maybe forgave him, or maybe she would once she woke up to him sitting next to her bed, always waiting for her. All he knew was that he was ready to say anything just to get her back, he would stop working, he would drop anything just to be able to see her smile one more time.

Yeah, I want you

It was Christmas Eve when the Gods heard his prayers.

His eyes opened slowly, the dim light passing through the window warmed the room, barely, since he still felt cold on the tip of his fingers. A distant whimper stirred him up, and it became stronger as he straightened up on his chair, staring at the girl without fully comprehending, his mind too fuzzy.

Then, Y/n opened her eyes, she frowned and tried to cover her face from the sun, but her hand was intertwined with Jason’s. When she felt it, her stare fixed on him.

“Jason?” She asked in a hoarse voice, “what..?”

“You’re awake,” He whispered.

Before she could add another word, Jason started rambling.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. What I said was stupid, and you were right, I was stressed and moody, and you were just worried... then you left...”

“Jason, I... I died?”

“No,” He shook his head, voice trembling, “no, you’re okay. You’ll be okay.”

“I...” Y/N stares at the bruises on her arms and the bandages around the torso, “I was reckless, going on my own. I’m sorry, I should’ve never...”

“You did what a demigod it’s supposed to do. You’re a hero. And I love you for that,” Jason lifted her hand carefully and kissed her knuckles, “I’ll always will. What I said, about not knowing why are we still together. It was a delicate subject but, I know now.”

Is it cool that I said all that Is it too soon to do this yet? 'Cause I know that it's delicate (delicate) 'Cause I like you

“What is it, then?” His girlfriend asked quietly.

“It’s cause we want it that way,” He smiles, “because we’re meant to be. And I still like you so much...”

“I can’t argue against that,” She replied, with weariness, a faint smirk on her face.

“Yeah,” He grinned, cleaning the tears that were starting to fall, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Grace.”

Jason could now say, he got his own Christmas miracle.

#pjo imagine #pjo writing #jason grace imagine #Jason Grace x Reader #hoo imagine #Danny's writing #jason grace

[dadolorian]

Just like me - Part 3

A/N: Here it is, part 3, i hope this makes up for their little split in p2  Credits: Thank you @oloreaa​ for being my Beta reader/editor !

Title: Just Like me Fandom: Prospect (2018) Ship: Ezra/Reader Warning: More talk of injuries/mental issues as a result. Word count: 6K + KILL ME Master List Request status AO3 Link Previous part Next part - coming soon

It was a good year and a half later when you landed back on central next. Almost two years since you had met Ezra originally. Simultaneously feeling like a lifetime had passed and feeling like you had just seen him yesterday.

True to your word, you had taken the next job you could, taking a standard contract to mine a newly discovered mineral deposit on a sulfur heavy moon for scientific research. It was a decent enough pay once you handed in your harvest to the research team. It didn’t provide you the rush that Aurelac harvesting did, though. It was the kind of job that was a ‘safe bet’, not a gamble, like it was on the Green. You might have waited for something more exciting, but you had wanted to leave central as soon as possible after you had said your goodbyes to Ezra. Wanting to push the memory of him away as quickly as you could. Stupidly believing that out of sight meant out of mind. You followed that job up with another on the same planet, harvesting a highly conductive metal similar to gold, it was used in electronics. It was not the most dazzling payload you had ever collected, nothing exciting or too complicated like the Aurelac, it was backbreaking and tiring, but it filled your pockets well. Despite it being the busiest job you had ever been on, constantly surrounded by the other harvesters on the teams or the research scientists, it was the loneliest you had ever felt on the job.The loss of Ezra’s companionship screamed loudest at you during that time, much to your annoyance. You had taken the job to distract yourself from him, not lament even more.  As you laid in the crowded communal bunk, surrounded by people, physically closer to more people than you ever had been in your entire life, but more alone than ever. Ezra had made you feel like the only other person in the entire galaxy when you spoke, that feeling had not faded due to distance or time. What was once something that made you feel special, important, the center of the entire universe, now made you feel isolated and lost, forgotten, with no Ezra around, feeling like you were the only other person in the universe suddenly became soul crushing. You longed to see him more than all the points in the galaxy, you dreamt about losing yourself in a conversation with him once more, of becoming bewitched in his sparkling dark eyes and alluring, crooked smile. Oh to simply have him curled up beside you on your bunk, not even speaking, just there. You did not slowly start to forget about him as you had originally feared you would.

The return to Central was significantly different this time around, your days aboard the ship home made you more resentful of your past self, as you wandered the halls the two of you used to explore. You couldn’t bear to spend extended time in your quarters, that was where you had enjoyed his company the most, choosing to be in there only for sleep. The departure was much quicker than the last time, you pushed yourself through the busy crowd gathered in the ships entrance foyer to get out as quickly as possible. While the weather was nothing to note when you had last departed, this time it was raining, and dark, well into the night. The ship had landed much later than scheduled due to a passing meteor shower which only dampened your mood further. You had not once stopped thinking about him, you had been convinced you would get over him eventually, you often scolded yourself for how much you yearned for him, the two of you were never anything more than friends but you longed for him the way you imagined you would have a lover. It was like he was your other half, and now a piece of you was missing, ironic for two people who had both physically lost parts of themselves. Returning to the place you had last seen him did nothing to change those feelings. You pushed it away once more, cowardly retreating away from your feelings once again when given the opportunity to make things right. You knew he had to be somewhere on the planet, huddled up in a little home with Cee, you hoped so at least. He was ready to put so much work into becoming her guardian, it would be a huge disappointment if he had been unsuccessful. It would be so easy, to just go grab a phone and call, you knew the number by heart now. You would often trade your books for new ones on a job but you refused to part ways with the one Ezra gave you, even if the messy scrawl was etched into your brain forever. It was the only reminder you had of him, the only proof that he had ever actually existed in your life. You were never able to separate from it, no matter how much you had wanted to push his memory away. You passed the payphones, considering it for the briefest of moments before the call of the job listing board won out to you. Calling him meant confronting the emotions you were trying to bury, and facing your fear. ‘Coward,’ Ezra's voice echoed in your mind, the same thought that you heard every time you considered reaching out. You were terrified of what he would say if you ever saw him again. Shaking those thoughts out of your head, you made your way over to the flickering, beat up screen displaying all the departures, groaning as you went through them all. The next sling out for your company was more than a month away, meaning you had two options, stick around and take a break, or change to a different company. If you changed, you would forgo your 2nd class lodgings and ship, you didn’t have a hush deal with anyone else, so you would have to rent a pod just like every other prospector, your own quarters and ship was a luxury you did not want to pass up. You didn’t even have the chance to use your own ship for the last job, it seemed like a waste to not use it. You groaned loudly in annoyance, running your hands through your hair as you relented that you would have to wait for the time being, last time you never had the opportunity to revel in the spoils of your harvest. 

You supposed this time you could, maybe that would be a better distraction. You trudged out of the arrivals and departures terminal you were in, past the wall of payphones again, hesitating for just a moment before pushing on, through the rain to walk to the strip where you knew there would be hotels. You didn’t bother with a cab, the strip wasn’t that far away and you were cheap, you could walk the distance. Your tired body protested however, the long boring trip after months of backbreaking work, mixed with the rain and delay in arrival, it all wore you down, the emotional baggage you were carrying certainly didn’t help much either. A walk that should have taken you five minutes tops once you left the space port took you close to twenty. The light rain turned into a downpour. It couldn’t get any worse.  

Of course, when someone says ‘it can’t get any way worse’ the universe always seems to prove them wrong. And it seemed the ‘merciful’ universe was conspiring against you, because as you arrived on the hotel strip you were angered to find two were locked, no one bothered to come to the door no matter how many times you rung the service bell, one was shut for construction, another two were out of rooms and the last had a rather snooty desk clerk who decided, just by looking at you, that you couldn't afford their luxuries and you were promptly shooed away. You gave him a piece of your mind as you were escorted away, angrily flipping the clerk off as security escorted you out. This was the industrial district, not a place where high end clients tended to stay. You almost cried as you walked the streets alone, too tired to try and find a new place on foot or even formulate a plan. You were all but ready to collapse in a bus stop or under a bridge, ready to admit defeat and sleep anywhere that was dry when a buzzing light caught the corner of your eye. A singular, beat up old payphone. His number flashed in your head again. You were all but ready to push the temptation away until you realized you were already inside and dialing. Perhaps you were just a little too tired and desperate to stop. Your stubbornness vanishes in hopes for a dry, warm place to sleep. You held your breath in anticipation and dread, a potent mix of emotions swirled through your mind as you waited for it to either ring off or for him to answer. You weren’t sure which one you wanted more. “Hmm? Who the fuck is calling me so god damn early in the morning?” a familiar, tired voice groaned. Your breath hitched. “I swear you telemarketers never understand people need to sleep, I have to wake up early tomorrow- today I imagine for wor-” “Ezra” You whispered, voice barely there, interrupting his tired rambling. “A-Angel?” He gasped, sounding considerably more awake and alert. The two of you listened in silence, him waiting for your response, you struggling to talk. “Y-yeah, it's me,” you sighed, eventually breaking the silence, curling in on yourself to protect yourself from the cold and his reaction. “W-well not that I'm not happy to hear from you, because I am, exceedingly so, but what the matter? Why are you calling?” he asked cautiously, hopefully. “I-uh, I landed back in central like an hour ago...” you whimpered just a bit “I have nowhere else to go. No Hotels and no ride...” You heard some quick shuffling on his end, it sounded like fabric, sheets maybe? He was getting dressed, your tired mind eventually concluded. “Where are you? I’m on my way,” he said. Nerves and panic overcame you for a moment, suddenly faced with the realization that you would see him, as much as you wanted too, you were too scared to face the reality of being confronted by him again. “N-no, there's no need for that,” you stammered. “I shouldn’t have bothered you, I'm sorry I woke you-” “Don’t hang up!” he begged, pleading. It reminded you of the last night you saw him. Guilt stabbed you in the stomach and twisted.  “Please, it's no trouble at all….. I’m not letting you sleep out there all alone, in this rain nonetheless. I am begging you, please let me help you out of this situation. I just want to make sure you're safe, so please, where are you?” You hesitated, biting your lip and listened to his deep, calming breaths before telling him your current location, tiredly reading dim, fluttering neon signs to help him figure out your exact position. He sounded pleased as he was getting ready to race out the door, apparently you weren’t too far from his home. He had to hang up as he headed out, begging you not to go anywhere before he galloped out his door. Once you were greeted with the dial tone once more you hung up the phone and sunk down slowly to the floor of the payphone, too tired to keep standing and soaked to the core as you waited for him. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you had almost fallen asleep, shivering in the cold when soft knocking on the glass roused you. There he stood, on the other side of the glass, drenched to high heavens, goofy, crooked grin you had missed so much, he greeted you with a wave of his one arm. He opened the door with a struggle, you shivered more as the cold night air hit you, and he helped you to your feet. “Easy, Angel, let's get you out this cold and into something dry,” he said, taking your bag from you and leading you in the apparent direction of his home, with his arm securely around you. His hand kept caressing you as you walked, and he constantly glanced at you as if checking you were really there. It was a good thing he lived so close, because apparently he didn’t have a vehicle. You supposed that made sense, driving with one arm would be difficult. He helped you walk all the way there, encouraging you to walk just a bit further each time you sagged tiredly. Before too long you were pulled into his small apartment, too tired to take it in and ready to collapse once more, on the floor if you had to, soaking wet or not. “Angel, I'm going to run the shower for you,” he said, setting your bag down. “I know you’re tired, but you are soaked to the bone. So let's get you warm and dry, hm?” he suggested leading you gently into an equally small bathroom. He ran the shower for you before going off to collect some dry clothes and a towel. “Here, get yourself all warmed up, you can wear these, your bag’s just as soaked as you are I am afraid, it doesn’t fare well for any of your spare clothes,” he said, handing them over to you. Grey sweats and a plain black t-shirt, they were his. “I’ll make the couch up , and you can take my bed.” You began to tiredly protest, mumbling an insistence that you would take the couch, but he wouldn’t allow that. Instructing you to get yourself warm and dry before you got sick. The only reason you relented, apart from being too tired to put up a decent argument, was because he wasn’t going to shower and warm himself up until you were done. Getting him sick wouldn’t help your guilt. Once you were finished in the bathroom, dressed in the spare clothes of his you walked out, half dead, he led you to the bed, helping your groggy mind remove your prosthetic, he placed a towel under it and leant it against the wall upside down. It was something you had never told him to do, but he had most likely noticed you doing it after every shower, back on your return from the Green. A gentle hand tucked you in, hushed whispers to you of how happy he was to see you again as he placed a soft kiss to your forehead and wished you sweet dreams. You weren’t sure how much your tired mind was conjuring it up, but you felt him caress your cheek tenderly before finally leaving. You were quick to drift off, the smell of him surrounding you and the sound of the shower running relaxing you and letting you finally succumb to sleep. 

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

Happy chatter and a boisterous laugh awoke you the next morning. Alarmed, you sat up quickly trying to figure out just where you were. The room was unfamiliar, a bed with worn, plain sheets, a dresser partially opened with unfolded clothes spilling out, your prosthetic leaning against the wall. The bedside table and the dresser had multiple novels piled on top of them, but otherwise the room lacked any other personal touches that might have helped your sleep delayed brain. You were alone, and in clothes that weren't yours. Thoroughly confused, you were about to panic, before the smell hit you, a familiar masculine smell you had not forgotten, even after such a long time. A smell you associated with safety, books and a singular warm arm embracing you. Ezra. That’s right, you had called him out of desperation last night. You listened to the voices in the next room, you recognised them as both Cee And Ezra. They were laughing together, you couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but they were happy, relaxed. You sat in silence, trying to figure out what to do. There was that stubborn side of you that wanted to run, to double down on the stupid belief that you had kept since you last saw him, simply because you were too prideful and afraid to admit to yourself that you were wrong. But realistically, you knew you could run anymore, you were in his bed, you would have to face him and accept the truth: that you had fucked up, that cutting him off had not made anything easier, that you had been miserable for the past year and a half, even though you had ended your friendship with him to avoid that happening. ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’ you thought to yourself as you heard what sounded like the front door close, and the muffle conversation ended. A few seconds later a gentle knock rapped at the door, Ezra cautiously poked his head into the room. A smile spread on his face when he saw you sitting up and awake. “Angel!” he praised, allowing himself to enter the room. He sat himself on the edge of the bed and took one of your hands in his, stroking your knuckles softly. “I have just made some breakfast for the Little bird, there's still plenty left, would you like some?” he asked, the familiar charming smile that you had missed so much still plastered on his face. You sighed and nodded, giving a timid smile back, put your leg on and quietly followed him out into the main living area, still holding his hand as he led you to your seat at the kitchen counter. Now actually awake you took note of the space. It was small, nothing fancy, just the basics in terms of furniture. A very small lounge area right by the front door, the kitchen directly to the right, with a small island and bar,. A similar sized table and matching chairs stood by the windows, and three doors in the little ‘hallway’ by the kitchen, the bathroom, Ezra's room and what you would assume was Cee's room. The only personal touches around the place was a mess of papers and more piles of books, just like in his room. You were too busy looking to realize Ezra had been speaking as he cooked up some breakfast, it was pancakes. “-And Birdie’s hoping to apply for a literary scholarship, she has the aspiration to become an author, surprise surprise. I instructed her that she has to dedicate at least one of her books to me, and that I intended to get her first copy, signed, mind you.” You managed to catch the end of what he was saying as he finished serving up your breakfast, putting the plate in front of where you were sitting at the little counter bar. He leaned onto the counter opposite you with a smile, allowing you to dig in. You ate in silence, appreciating just how much better the food was compared to the ship you had just gotten off. You were steeling yourself for the conversation that was coming, tension hanging in the air. “I missed you,” he eventually said after you had been sitting silently for too long. You didn’t know what to say, as usual, so you just kept on eating awkwardly, not looking at him. Mentally scolding yourself, ignoring your issues had proven to be ineffective, why do you bother keeping it up? “Please don’t tell me you already regret calling me Angel?”  He sighed at your lack of response, brushing some of your messy bed hair from your face so he could see your eyes better.  You shook your head. “N-no, I just don’t know what to say. I’m not like you Ezra. I can’t just..say how I really feel.” Frustrated with yourself, you looked down at your lap. “Did you miss me?” he asked, voice a mixture of hope and nerves. You sighed loudly, did he really think you didn’t? “Of course I did, Ezra,” you whispered, looking up and meeting his gaze. “I have found myself unable to stop thinking about you Angel,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck and turning away from your gaze. “Nothing I have done has quelled the longing in my heart for your company. I am happy, with this new life I have built with my Little Bird, but I must concede that I have not been successful in my endeavors to find a friendship that meant half as much as yours did to me.” Yet again you were at a loss for words, tears welled up in your eyes and you bit back a sob.  “Angel?” he asked, concern thick in his voice when you let out the chocked sound and the dam inside you broke, the tidal wave of emotions crashing through you that had been pent up inside you for the past year and a half. He was quick to round the counter and pull you off your seat and into his embrace, soothing you with gentle strokes to your back.  “Easy, Angel, easy,” he soothed. “Tell me what is upsetting you so?”  You shook your head, unable to articulate yourself the way he seemed to do so with ease.  “Are you upset about seeing me again?” he tried, you shook your head no again. “N-no, I’m happy to see you again, Ezra, really,” you mumbled into his shirt as you continued to cry.  “But these are not happy tears, Angel,“ he pointed out, cupping your face gently and directing your gaze to his. He brushed a tear away with his thumb. “You are not crying because you are happy to see me. Which perturbs me. I beg of you to tell me what’s wrong?”  “I’m just…” you trailed off trying to find the words, he was looking at you with such patience and support, silently encouraging you to continue. How could you have ever pushed him away? How could you hurt him like that? You did not deserve his kindness, his care, and yet, after pushing him away for no other reason than stubbornness and pride he still, still dropped everything to come help you out, even in the middle of the night in the pouring rain. You wanted to confess every thought, every regret for what you had done, proclaim to him how wrong you had been and that you were an idiot for not listening to him. But those words were trapped, all you could manage was a quiet whisper of “I’m sorry.” His body slumped as he let out a breath you didn’t notice he had been holding. His soft smile grew as he shook his head and pulled you in a tight embrace again.  He placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head. ”And here i thought something was wrong,” he sighed, gently nuzzling the top of your head with his cheek. “I forgive you, of course I forgive you,” he murmured, not letting you go.  He was just too good to you. “You were right,” your voice tight and eyes filled with more tears that threatened to spill. Your fingers gripped the material of his shirt tightly. ”I-I was just being stubborn and there was no reason to cut you out. How can you even look at me? All it did was hurt me more and I let it happen. I hurt you, Ezra.”  He kissed the crown of your head once more. “That you did,” he began,“But I forgive you anyway, Angel. You did not do it out of malice or rancor. I cannot blame you for a misguided belief that you were protecting yourself, as much as your actions pained me, not when you have accepted your faults and have come to amend them.”  “B-but I didn’t,” you admitted in shame, burying your face in his chest. “I had multiple opportunities to call you before last night, I passed them all up until my circumstances changed and I became desperate. I was actively trying to avoid seeing you again until I ran out of options.”  “Such a stubborn woman,” he murmured, rocking you ever so gently in his embrace. “I truly do not care about any of that now, Angel. All that matters is that I was gifted the pleasure of seeing you again. That you did eventually decide to grace my life with your presence once more." Ezra beamed at you, before continuing, "I have sorely missed your company and I am simply too overjoyed about your return to me to even entertain thoughts about anything else." He paused, shifting slightly. "Just please tell me, now that you are here that you will not leave me once more?”  Your arms cautiously wrapped around his middle. “I’ll have to go back to work eventually,” you muttered. “Not like that Angel, you know what i mean,” he said, cupping your face again so you could meet his gaze. “Tell me you won’t cut me out again,” he said, brow stern and eyes searching yours, searching for a truthful response. 

Your lip trembled.”I won’t,” you whispered, voice quiet but resolve clear. “Okay, good,” he sighed, releasing his gentle hold on your face. “Then that is all that matters. We can put the past behind us and continue on.”  “Just like that?” you asked, struggling to accept he was willing to forget everything that went wrong.  “Do you want to sit down and talk about it?” He asked. “I am more than willing to, if that's what you wish Angel.”  “M-maybe not right now,” you sigh, not quite ready to resolve all that emotional baggage just yet.  “When you’re ready, then,” he said, soft encouragement in his voice, kissing your forehead and releasing his hold on you. “Come, let's get you sorted. Your belongings are still soaked, we can get them all washed and dried,” he hummed, trying to cheer you up.  “I can do it at the hotel, when I find one,” you said, not wanting to trouble him.  “H-hotel?” he asked, “I hope I do not come across as too selfish but I would very much like you to stay here. If you’re receptive to that idea?”  “This is your home Ezra” you pointed out. “I don’t want to invade.”  “Nonsense, you are more than welcome. I know it’s not fancy like some of the hotels you can stay at, so I understand if you would choose one over my humble little apartment, but in all honesty I was hoping you would stay, if only for a short while.”  “What about Cee? This is her home too,” you pointed out, brows furrowed in worry. “I spoke to Birdie this morning before she left for school. She is more than happy to have you stay as well,” he said, folding up the blankets still thrown on the couch as best he could. “I made sure of that. I would never invite someone to stay if she was uncomfortable with the idea.”  “I don’t want to trouble you any further-” you started. “It’s no trouble, please Angel,” he said, cutting you off. “I am asking because I want to, and I am not ready to say goodbye to you yet, even if it is just for a few hours.You can even take my room-” “Keeva no, Ezra,” you sighed. “I’ll stay, alright. I don’t want to say goodbye just yet either, but I am not going to make you sleep on the couch in your own home.”  “I am quite alright with it Angel,” he said.  “Yeah right,” you scoffed. I can tell just by looking at that thing you don’t fit on it properly. I’m smaller, I'll actually fit on it. And that’s final,” you said poking him in the chest. He was about to protest again, ready to insist  but you interrupted him before he had a chance to voice himself. ”If you do not accept me sleeping on the couch I will go find a hotel,” you said, tone stern as you crossed your arms, challenging him to continue.  He sighed, giving up. Reluctantly letting you take the couch so you would stay. 

It felt good to have him back in your life, helping you once more, and you him, there was still a little tension between the two of you which you would have to talk about eventually, later, as you had agreed. For the time being, it was just nice to have him back. He helped you with all your wet clothes in his apartment buildings tiny laundry room, the two of you sitting opposite the running machines on the scuffed ground side by side as you waited, catching up. Absence had done nothing to wear at the connection you shared. He told you of the difficult process of becoming Cee’s legal guardian, the hoops he had to jump through. The desperate search for a stable job and apartment so he could provide for her. You felt another pang of guilt, having abandoned him in such a difficult time, but he assured you he felt no ill will. He now had 2 jobs, one meaneal labour job that wasn’t so difficult he couldn’t do it with one arm, and another at the spaceport you had just departed from, he was essentially a security guard. It was basic work, he had told you, nothing he took particular pride or passion in, just something to pay the bills and provide for Cee until she went to college. He confessed just how much he missed prospecting, he chased that thrill of a good harvest just as you did. He begged you to tell him tales of your last exploit back out into the stars. “Sorry Ezra, my last job was far from a thrilling adventure” you huffed, amused. “No gems or exciting digs. Just backbreaking labour to mine some standard ore, and help a research team dig up a newly discovered mineral.” “Angel, that sounds more than stimulating to me,” he said with a grin, stupid puppy dog eyes sparkling at you in hopes of a tale. “Tell me,” he urged excitedly, puppy dog eyes sparkling at you that you couldn’t resist. You sighed. “I don’t think I've ever been on a job so physically demanding. Nothing like the drops down to the Green. It was this huge team led by the researchers,” you explained, eyes cast down in thought as you tried to remember details. “It was… lonely,” you admitted casting your gaze down. “There was a potential for a pharmaceutical use for the mineral, it was difficult to collect, and fragile, so they hired big teams to collect as much as possible. Huge professional gig so everything was provided, and we got paid by the day as well as bonuses if we managed to collect more than the minimum requirement.” He whistled at that in awe. “Damn Angel, that sounds like that meant one hell of a payload when you were done then.” You hummed in agreement. “Yeah, not going to lie, it was a little boring compared to Aurelac harvesting, and difficult, but it was more than a decent pay,” you huffed in amusement before continuing. “The next one was basic, just, mining for ore. Standard kinda job, not one of the thrill seekers things either.” “We all get those kinds of jobs every now and then,” he nodded, leaning back and closing his eyes. You could imagine him reliving the memories of his former life behind those closed lids.  Playfully nudging his shoulder to get his attention, you grinned at him when he brought his wistful eyes to meet yours. “You’ll be back there, soon enough,” you encouraged. A sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I truly want that to happen, Angel,” he sighed, tearing his gaze away to stare off at the opposite wall. “I must confide that I have begun to fear my severed arm has proven to be far too arduous to deal with certain tasks. I have taught myself to become ambidextrous in my writing but there are things I have discovered are too… difficult to accomplish now that I am without part of myself.” You listened to his concern with an understanding smile before leaning against him, resting your cheek on his shoulder, looking up into his sorrowful eyes that were staring into the distance. “Do you remember when I told you it gets easier?” you asked, barely above a whisper, he glanced at you before nodding slightly, sighing as he did so. “I meant it,” you continued. “It will get easier Ezra, when you get a prosthetic, well then, the world better watch out.” You took his hand in both of yours, giving it an encouraging squeeze and smiling at him. “What if I can't?” he asked, brows furrowed in worry , giving away a hidden fear. “What if I do not bounce back? And I stay this broken shell of my former self?” You rolled your eyes, he was the dramatic sort sometimes. “Ezra, look at me,” you whispered as he tore his gaze away again, you cupped his face lightly to bring it back to you.  You weren't one to initiate physical affection from him, but his absence had made you crave it so much during your time apart, that you were willing to throw a little caution to the wind.   “You’re not some ‘shell’-” you started, cut off when huffed and rolled his own eyes, not agreeing with you. ”Hey now, I never knew you before this,” you gestured to his missing arm with one hand. ”I didn’t know Ezra before, I only know this Ezra." To underline that, you poked him in the chest with a single finger. "And I like this Ezra.” You playfully flicked his forehead afterwards, laughing as he pouted at you. “Don’t pout at me like that, mister,” you snickered as he rubbed his forehead. “Look, ok, I don't think you're this shell, in fact, I wish I could express just how amazing I think you are, Ezra,” you started again, shy smile on your face. “But I know how you’re feeling, I’ve been there too, remember? I’m just like you. So if you’re having any self deprecating thoughts because you’re an amputee, then I'm afraid I will have to take that as a personal offence, because if you’re less of a man for losing your arm, then by that logic, I’m less of a woman for losing my leg.” Raising your chin at him, you stared him in the eyes, challenge written in your face. He looked at you, aghast, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. “Angel, I would never think that way of you-” “Good, then you can’t think that way about yourself either. It’s not allowed,” you said sternly, not allowing him any room to argue. “You lost an arm, so what? It’s a part of your life now and you just have to deal with it.“  He queried his brow at you.  “I think I prefer your gentle consolations over this,” he mumbled, making you snort with laughter.  “Sometimes, it helps to have a dose of reality. Recovery is a long process and it can’t always be soft encouragement. Sometimes it’s better to give you a shove than to hold your hand,” you said, letting go of his hand to empathize the point. “I like when you hold my hand, Angel,” he whispered, hand reaching to take yours back but hesitated. “Makes me feel safer than I have felt in a long time,” he said, you weren't sure if he was talking metaphorically or not, but either way it made your stomach flip.   “Well,” you began, feeling a little flushed over his innocent little comment, voice pitched for a moment as you composed yourself. “You need a shove right now, but I hope me standing at the sidelines shouting that you can do it is a good enough substitute.”  “So long as you are there Angel, it's more than enough,” he smiled, resting his hand on your knee instead. The machines in front of you finally finished their cycles, bringing the two of you two back to reality. You smiled and patted his shoulder before getting up off the floor so you could remove the clothes from the machines.

You couldn’t remember being so happy since the last good day the two of you had spent together. He helped you hang up your clothes on a small drying frame in his apartment, he playfully waggled his eyebrows at you as he hung up your underwear, to which you were mortified and threw a wet sock at his smug face as he cracked up.

He had called in sick from work that morning, you later found out, so he could spend the whole day with you. You sat with him on his couch, chatting with him as if the two of you had never been separated. Cee returned home late afternoon, it warmed your heart to watch Ezra get up and greet her with a small hug and ask her about her day, offering her help with any homework she had. She said hi to you, a soft smile on her face as she made her way to her room to do her homework, refusing Ezras offer of help.

She emerged again close to dinner time, Ezra having ordered takeout to ‘celebrate’ your return. You were left alone together as Ezra went to collect your meals at the apartment gate. “It’s uh, really nice to see you again,” Cee said to fill in the slightly tense silence. The two of you never had a meaningful conversation with each other, accepting that the other just came with having Ezra in your life. “It’s nice to see you again too,” you said truthfully, giving her a soft smile. She shook her head, “no, i mean, yeah. It is nice to see you but I meant, I’m happy your back. Da- Ezra has been kinda mopey, since he last saw you. He’s happy again, is what I was trying to say. He’s missed you.” “I’ve missed him too,” you said, charmed that she cared so much for her adoptive father's happiness. “He hasn’t shut up about you you know?” she said rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly as she revealed something Ezra probably wouldn’t want her telling you. “He kept asking me what he could have done differently, or wondering what you were up to, he was really worried about you, not knowing where you were.” You felt a pang of guilt hit your chest. “I didn’t mean to hurt him Cee, I hope you know that.” “Yeah, I do,” she sighed. “ I wasn’t happy to see him so upset, but no one was angry at you. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now, he’s happy now and you’re back together again.” “Together?” you balked. “W-we’re not together, just… friends. That’s all we are, friends,” you clarified feeling flustered and your face heating up. Cee snorted. “You’re just like him I swear-” she laughed , shaking her head as the front door opened and Ezra returned, brown paper bag in hand, declaring dinner was served with a cheerful tone. You didn’t have a chance to ask Cee what she meant, distracting yourself from your slightly flustered mind by helping Ezra serve and carry everything over to the couch where the two of you sat. Cee sitting adjacent from you on the floor, a content smile on her face as she watched Ezra happily chat with you while the three of you ate your meals.

TAG LIST @oloreaa​ @chaotic-noceur

#prospect #prospect 2018 #ezra #ezra from prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra x ofc #my fic #JLM #Pedro pascal

[harcourtholmesii]

Hidden Depth

(SUMMARY:  The five times Remus Sanders proved he was more than just Intrusive Thoughts, and the one time it was acknowledged.)

(AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hey, I know it has been a while, but I recently discovered 'Sanders Sides' (I know it has been around for ages but it is new to me), and fell in love. Much more specifically, Remus 'the Duke' Sanders (also known as 'Dark Creativity') stole my heart the second he knocked Roman out with a morningstar to the head. I have dreamed of doing that many times to many people, but still... Ignoring my macabre thoughts, I love this character and I wanted to show him some appreciation (in the form of angst).Cruel to be Kind.)

#1 (UNDER PRESSURE)

 Pressure.

 That was the first thing to register through Virgil’s mind; a solid weight resting upon his chest, crushing his lungs. Every exhale threatened the succeeding inhale; the breathing sounded loud through his ears like a haunting wind tunnel.

 Opening his eyes, Virgil was greeted with a great abyss; he felt weightless, unable to discern which way was up. All around him the universe was a black pit; no light, colour or sound. His clothes splayed out all around him as if he was in a vast ocean, but he felt his skin taut and dry. He couldn’t see anything to determine his location. Or anyone to cry out to. It didn’t stop him from trying.

 “…”

 Opening his lips, like water, the inky world around him flooded into his mouth and throat; it was tangible, slimy and cold. He mutely coughed it down, clamping his pale lips shut around the intrusive substance. His teeth severed a connection, and as quickly as he started to drown he had swallowed down the offending mass. It clung along his raw throat, until it fell heavily into his stomach. Similar to his chest, it felt like a ton had been rested in his gut. It made him nauseous; he could almost feel his skin change to an icky green. He didn’t dare open his mouth again.

 His movements were slow, lazy and exhausting with each inch he turned and twisted. He could barely turn his head without feeling hundreds of sticky hands forcing him to remain in place. The pressure was too much. It hurt. The thing in his gut caused his whole body to churn in discomfort, his eyes beginning to brim with tears.

 Why was he here?

 What had happened?

 “Virge.”

 A voice, clear as day, sounded somewhere in his surroundings. He couldn’t move his body around to see whoever it was, but he felt something wrap around his fingers and a gentle tug pulled him down and backwards.

 The figure rounded him, almost cautiously, until they stood before him. It was a figure familiar to him. He knew them from somewhere. But for the life of him, he couldn’t place it. Hell, he couldn’t place how this person seemed to know him.

 “Hey, Emo. Good to see you’re back in the land of the living. Well… Almost.”

 The voice was a higher pitch than he was expecting, and whilst this figure was familiar, something about the man before him was off-putting. Really off-putting.

 “Guess you can’t talk yet. No matter! Makes my job easier. I don’t have to listen to every single question you probably have in that itty-bitty brain of yours!” He emphasised his point with a painful poke to Virgil’s forehead. The point of pressure was enough to start Virgil drifting again, but that hand in his prevented him from drifting too far.

 My God, those eyes…

 They were crazed. Grey eyes with flecks of emerald through them. If it had been anyone else staring him down, he would arguably think that gaze was beautiful. Instead, the dark, sunken eyes and the twinkle of manic glee had him thinking perhaps this place, as horrid as it was, may be safer than the man before him.

 “Welcome, my dear Virgil…” He spun him around, pulling him tight, shoulder-to-shoulder, one hand out in presentation, “… to the Subconscious!” The man’s voice echoed in the deep, spreading out and around them forever and onwards in all dimensions. “Not many peeps come here, you know.”

 He turned Virgil around, holding him out at arm’s length, like the weightless being he was. The man bore a wide grin on his face; a sinister appearance with canines just a couple millimetres too long and lips pulled back just a little too far.

 “And for good reason! Sides can’t survive out here, after all. Well, not for long, anyway.” He leaned forward, Virgil attempting to move himself away from this claustrophobic space between them. “But you didn’t come here, did you? Not intentionally. Or… yes intentionally. No… Yes! No. I don’t really know what you would count it as, but you sure as Hell didn’t walk here!” He let Virgil’s shoulders go, leaning down and out of sight of Virgil’s gaze.

 Not seeing this lunatic was worse; knowing he was still there but doing something out of sight was beginning to cause Virgil’s breaths to pick up from stress. Where was he?! What was he doing?! He felt hands on his left leg, trying to pull away from the unwanted touch. What he felt next caught him by surprise. A solid surface beneath his sneaker. Then those hands reached up to his right leg and pulled it down to mirror the left.

 Once more, the man reappeared in sight, pulling Virgil’s jacket down forcefully and, just like magic, Virgil could feel his weight on his feet. He stumbled, falling into the man… Remus’ arms. How did he know his name? What about him did Virgil know? Surely they weren’t friends.

 “Ah! Much better!” Remus flicked the few floating locks from Virgil’s violet fringe back down and just over his eyes. He snickered. “Can you walk, little storm cloud?” He asked, helping Virgil to stand properly on his own two feet.

 Everything seemed as if in slow motion. Virgil raised one leg, feeling as if he was weighed down by iron shoes, and took a single step. He was like an infant. Almost as quickly as he had taken that first step, he was falling back into Remus’ embrace. Laughter trickled its way from the man’s mouth, but Virgil was a little distracted. There was no laughter from within Remus’ chest. There was no deep seated laughter. There was something missing beyond that though. It was… strange. Like the man himself.

 “I’ll give you a wittle hand den, storm cloud.” He teased, wrapping one arm around over his broad shoulders and beginning the walk along what was an invisible platform. Virgil’s eyes darted downwards, watching how the ‘floor’ clung tightly to the bottom of his sneakers and Remus’ boots, sticking tight like mud.

 “Now then… I know how much you hate us, Virge, but maybe don’t scare Dee-Dee like that again, yeah?” Dee-Dee? Who was that supposed to be? “He does actually worry, you know. He’s such a sap. It’s like watching the Titanic sink. Why cry for the lives lost and not celebrate all the shark food and the ruins at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean?!” He laughed, harsh and blaringly loud in Virgil’s ear. He took a sharp breath in. “Wait! That was a bad metaphor…”

 Virgil ignored the ramblings from Remus, focussing instead on what he had done to cause this ‘Dee-Dee’ to worry. Flashes, bright and sudden blinded him as he caught sight of a white porcelain tub and tile, stained a brilliant, royal red. He felt Remus round on him suddenly, taking a hold of either side of Virgil’s head. The thoughts of a blade slipping through his skin like it was warm butter sunk away and out of his grasp.

 Opening his eyes, there was a dazed look in Remus’ eyes, before the taller man spoke. It was unlike his ramblings and much more like his first word to Virgil. Softer. Cautious.

 “Virgil… No matter what anyone says, you cannot do that to yourself. Again.”

 “B-But…” His own voice was a croak; exhausted and dry. “I… I hurt-”

 “Who? Thomas? Shit happens, storm cloud. But you are a necessity. Maybe… One day, Thomas will see that. Otherwise, you have me. And Dee-Dee.” He returned to his original place, supporting Virgil’s unsteady movements. “I might be an asshole, but we… Care.” He seemed almost disgusted saying it.

 “No. You… You don’t care… ‘bout me…”

 “I’m not Dee-Dee. I don’t lie.”

 Who knows how long it took, but soon, a tiny white speck on the ‘horizon’, grew in size, almost the shape of a door frame. White light poured inside, blindingly bright. By this point, Virgil could feel Remus sinking under his weight. He was tired, it seemed. Before crossing the threshold, once more, Remus turned Virgil around so he could look him in the eye. That malicious glint was still there.

 “You won’t remember much of this place. Of what I have said. And, honestly, I’m too lazy to tell you when we’re back home, so…” He raised one hand up to Virgil’s brow, resting a warm palm there. A heat bloomed outwards from the touch, spreading through Virgil’s skull and following his spine, blossoming into his muscles and the rest of his body.

 Images flashed through his head, too fast for him to comprehend. But whatever they were, Virgil felt sick. Disgusted. He felt molested, assaulted and terrified of whatever had just transpired. He pulled back in shock, adrenaline shooting through him as he tumbled out and through the white rectangle.

 He landed on his ass in a corridor, not nearly as blinding as the light had seemed. Instead, it was a dim glow, with low hanging bulbs, sparking with electricity. Five doors lined the corridor behind him, and before the dark, rotting wood door closed, he caught sight of where he had come from. An all-consuming abyss; a cosmos as dark as ink with not a hint of life within. The giant, black maw roared, the door slamming shut of its own volition, leaving Virgil there, trembling.

 “Virgil!” A voice, one normally filled with such dignity and a tone of superiority echoed from further down the hall. Looking behind him, all Virgil could catch was a flash of bright yellow and a black suit, as a figure came up to kneel behind him. The reptilian half of his face was emotionless as ever, but his human eye was wide with concern and a raw horror at seeing Virgil appear.

 “D-Deceit?”

 “No! I-I mean… yes! It’s me.” He helped Virgil to stand, immediately latching on with a vice-like grip to Virgil’s left wrist. He roughly pulled the sleeve up to the crook of the elbow, those shoulders sinking in relief as a breath escaped him. As quickly as he had pulled up the sleeve, he had wrapped his hands around Virgil’s head, pulling him tight to his chest.

 A heartbeat, soothing and constant caught his attention. He burrowed his head into Deceit’s chest, unashamed as he felt tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. Deceit led him down the corridor and towards the bathroom that they all shared. Once inside, he settled Virgil into the corner, before pouring a glass of water and wetting a hand towel. He offered both to Virgil who accepted them quietly. He sipped at the glass whilst Deceit began gently dabbing at his sweating skin.

 “What happened?”

 Deceit stiffened from his crouched position, before offering him an uncomfortable smile. “Please, Virgil don’t- Clean yourself up. Take your time. I’ll go and not- I’ll get you something to eat. I won’t be long. We can talk once you’ve eaten.” With a flourish of his cape, Deceit had disappeared from the bathroom.

 Virgil picked himself up from the floor, contemplating. Why? What had he done to earn such worry from Deceit of all people? Why did he cause him to worry? Without thinking, his hands brushed over the vanity drawers, opening them almost without realising. What was he searching for?

 He finally found it. There was a sting in his fore and middle fingertips. He wrapped his hand around a wooden handle, pulling out the Duke’s straight razor. He flicked it open, noting with an almost sick fascination how it was one of the few items the Duke kept in pristine condition. There was a desperate need to sate something deep within him.

 The sleeve was once again moved up to the crook of his elbow.

 He rested the fine edge against the skin of his forearm.

 He stopped.

 His fingers leaked a few drops of royal red onto his paper skin, Virgil’s head tilting in confusion. And then he gasped. Images ran through his head like a blur, the blade slipping from his fingers.

 The room’s stunning white was painted over with buckets of blood. On the floor beneath him there was the obstruction of heavy legs and feet. Virgil turned, almost throwing up at the sight. He let out a cry.

 Deceit slammed the door open suddenly, looking down at Virgil as he sat there hugging his knees tight to his body. He was sobbing, muting the loudest cries in the torn jeans. On the floor of the sparkling white bathroom was the straight razor.

 No blood.

 Deceit sat beside Virgil, taking him into his arms, as those brown eyes looked up at him in horror. “I… I was…”

 “Yes.”

“I did it.”

 “You did.”

 “How am I…?”

 “How are you what?”

 “A-Alive…?”

 “I…”

 Silence passed between them.

 “I don’t know.”

  ~X~

#2 (LEGACIES) 

 How vast was the universe? Was there sentient life apart from humans? An infinitesimal chance that you would exist, and yet you were here. Why? Why you? What would you provide that the world had not seen a hundred times before? What hadn’t the world seen a thousand times before? A million times before?

 Thoughts cascaded in a blinding rush through Logan’s pounding skull; the Side in question having to remove his glasses, pinching the corners of his eyes to clear his head of the imagery. The flashes of colour and questions playing on loop like a broken record; they had been running marathons through his head all night. Whilst Thomas slept, the brain was supposed to be quiet so that it might allow for Roman to work his figurative ‘magic’.

 Logan’s own room proved to be less of a sanctuary from his thoughts, his bedroom walls covered from top to bottom in mind maps, pie charts and graphs. All his work to determine how best for Thomas to live his life, but even now, he had no clue. A healthy life was optimal, but just as Roman had once questioned, ‘what comes after?’ What was Thomas to do once he had the time or made the sacrifices?

 The common room provided a quiet place for him to sit, removed from his thoughts on paper, and with everyone else fast asleep, he had the space he needed. He had to keep his mind in the game. Keep his thoughts straight (to an extent) and just calm down.

 How his mind had turned to all of these questions so quickly, he had no idea. Perhaps it had been Virgil’s earlier outburst, or the movie selected by the others to watch that evening. He hated that question. ‘What are we here for?’ He had heard it too many times and still he did not have the answer. Sure, Thomas was not Albert Einstein or Stephen Hawking, but Logan’s whole existence was to answer Thomas’ questions and provide him with every piece of knowledge that would help him with his way in life. But even now, even though Logan’s own existence as a figment of Thomas’ psyche was certain, the living, breathing human that was his host still had no answer to that question. No one did.

 He leaned forward in his seat on the couch, running his hands through his hair, pushing the locks away from his pale, exhausted face. He was being driven up the metaphorical wall! The stress was getting to him. It shouldn’t! He knew how to avoid it and all the steps you could take to relieve it. His dark blue eyes peered down at the blurred carpet, attempting to piece together a picture from the blurred particles. He could almost make out a few crumbs on the floor, replacing his glasses and swiping them up with a huff. Roman and Patton always left a mess after eating in the lounge, it was a wonder they didn’t have any imaginary ants running around.

 That was it.

 The answer.

 “Insignificant.”

 “What was that?”

 Logan nearly leapt three feet in the air, hopping off the couch at the muted but still recognisable voice of the Duke. He peered around, expecting to see the second half of creativity peeking his dark eyes over the end of the lounge, or sitting on the bench in the kitchen. Instead, thankfully, the Duke was not present in the kitchen or behind the lounge. Stepping around the couch and peering up the stairs, Logan failed to see him sitting on the top stair or underneath the dining room table.

 “Remus?”

 “You said ‘insignificant’. Something got you down, dork?”

 Still, there was nothing. Where could he be? His voice was still muffled ever so slightly, but was otherwise as loud as ever. Logan was starting to feel just a little uncomfortable now.

 “Where are you?”

 A shift in the lounge cushions, the one at the farthest end, just beside where Logan had been sitting, was pushed out of place, revealing the Duke in all his glory. Au naturale. A shiver ran its way up Logan’s spine as Remus chuckled.

 “How long have you been there?”

 “Eh, not long. Was hoping to scare Ro-Bro at breakfast, but I guess I’m a little early.”

 “It is 2:36 in the morning. Roman does not normally get up until about 8:00 am.”

 “So?”

 Logan rolled his eyes, taking his seat at the opposite end of the couch.

 “So, you are about five hours and twenty-four minutes early.”

 “And I am dedicated to my role!” Remus seemed so offended (well, as offended as he could be), beginning to manoeuvre his way out from under the cushions, revealing more of his pale torso and body. It was only now that Logan hurriedly averted his eyes, cracking his jaw to distract himself.

 “Must you be naked?”

 “Well, if I want to scar Princey, I need to take it up a notch from just bludgeoning him.”

 “We’re figments of Thomas’ psyche. We can’t get scarred.”

 “Ah! Not physically!” The duke practically purred, pulling himself free at last and replacing the pillows. He turned around and took a seat, one leg cocked up so he rested casually, Logan trying not to grimace. “But mental scars can last forever!”

 “T-True.”

 “So? What were you saying about being ‘insignificant’? It seemed like you hit a breakthrough. What’s going on in that itty-bitty brain of yours?” He cooed. The Duke just cooed at him like Patton when Roman first gifted him an imaginary puppy.

 “Well, I was just thinking about how insignificant the human race- Thomas’ life is. I mean… We’re like ants.”

 “In a matriarchal dictatorship, communicating through smell and touch whilst being crushed under the boot of the less than one percent?”

 Logan cocked his head over to the Duke, unfazed by the other’s lack of clothing, but still stunned by the other’s apparent comment. The absurdity of its comparison or the surprise Logan felt at the other’s knowledge; he didn’t know what had left him so speechless. Probably both. When Remus grinned, his expression dividing his face near in half, Logan felt heat beginning to enter his cheeks.

 “N-No. Not quite what I meant- How do you-?”

 “I know things, Loogie! Can’t be accurate without knowledge, after all.” He said, leaning forward in his seat, resting his chin in the palms of his hands. Well, that was not a revelation Logan was expecting to have this evening. Out of the twins, he did not expect Roman to attempt accuracy, but he certainly was not expecting Remus to openly admit he aimed for accurate representation in his… art.

 “W-Well… Anyway, what I actually meant was humans as a species are insignificant.” Remus tilted his head, uncharacteristically quiet, waiting for Logan to elaborate. “The human race has only been around for about three hundred, thousand years, out of a near fourteen billion that the universe has existed. We are dust. Doomed to die out just as the dinosaurs before us and who knows what else.”

 “What does this have to do with ants?”

 “Insignificance!” Logan’s voice rose against his wishes, feeling rather sheepish when he heard a muffled ‘shut up’ from upstairs. “Insignificance. At the end of it all, we can’t promise that Thomas will do anything memorable. Just as you questioned whether he will ever have a legacy, I can’t determine that Thomas will ever be remembered or make an impact. In the end, he will go through the same cycle that all humans do: breathe, eat, defecate, sleep and repeat until he eventually dies and us along with him.”

 “Hm… I see what you’re saying…” Remus hummed, pouting his lips in a way that tilted his moustache ever so slightly. A thoughtful look on Remus’ face was a strange appearance to behold. “And I disagree.”

 “What? You just said so yourself, ‘you can’t be accurate without knowledge’. So, if you are aware of all of this, how can you say that this is incorrect? We both know it isn’t. At the end of it all, if there is a higher deity, which I sincerely doubt, he will get judged and then some day, trillions of years down the line, the universe will cease to be.”

 “Yep!”

 “Are you just ignoring me or are you truly ignorant to what that means?”

 “Nah, just don’t see the point of worrying your pretty little head off.” He leaned back in the couch cushions, head held high, staring Logan down like the personification of Logic had once done to him. “After all, if we are so insignificant, what is the point of worrying? We can do anything we set our minds to!”

 “How optimistic.”

 “How practical, I think you mean.” Logan furrowed his brow. Was this naked idiot really trying to argue against him? “After all, that’s life! An experience that we lucky few get to live, and guess what? If it wasn’t for the lucky few before us, where would we be now?”

 Logan cocked a brow, not quite catching onto the Duke’s reasoning.

 “Nikola Tesla was a brilliant nutcase that played with electricity, giving us the stepping stones to modern inventions that all require electricity! But…” He wagged a finger in Logan’s direction, tutting. “Without him, who’s to say no one else down the line wouldn’t have discovered it? Without Pythagoras, we might not have Pythagoras theorem, we might instead have the Florian theorem or we might not have anything!”

 “You’re just ruining your point.”

 “Let me finish.” Remus scooted himself across the couch cushions until he was sitting right beside Logan, the Logical side grimacing. He would have to wash those cushions come tomorrow. "Yes, anyone could have done it or no one at all, but guess what? They did it!”

 What?

 “I don’t-”

 “We, the human race, any one of them, can put their minds to it and do something new! Something exciting! Tesla, Percy Julian, Einstein, Marie Curie, Pythagoras, Aristotle… They were the ones that discovered all of those amazing things. That invented all of those awesome contraptions!”

 “But-”

 “Let me go further! If it wasn’t for Jordan Peele, we wouldn’t have ‘Get Out’! If it wasn’t for Francisco Goya, we wouldn’t have that awesome painting! You know the one, um… The one where big boy Cronus is eating his son…?”

 “I think you mean ‘Saturn’.”

 “Yep! That’s the one! And it’s a fucking masterpiece! All creepy and bloody… God, he makes that arm look so fucking tasty.” Logan tried to ignore the sight of Remus’ tongue sliding over his teeth and lips. But still…

 “I… I will concede…” Remus leaned forward, grinning down at Logan. “T-That you have a point.”

 “And Thomas the fucking dankest engine that there ever has been? What has he done?”

 “Um… I don’t-”

 “He’s entertained millions with his stupid little Vines!” Logan shrugged. “He’s been releasing his own songs and covers of other awesome bops on Youtube and Spotify! Hell, he’s let us make our own playlists!” Logan cringed, recalling some of the rather… unusual and grating pieces Remus had handpicked. “He’s been in several musicals and theatrical productions, posing and bounding about for those asshole critics and doing bloody amazing!”

 “I guess…”

 “And! And he has been introducing us to the world! That’s a fucking first!”

 “Well, I mean, the Disney Pixar film Inside Out did it first.”

 “They just did emotions. We’re the fucking mechanics, Logie Awards! We’re more than just a kid flic, no matter how heart wrenching it was.” Was it just an illusion of some kind, or did he actually see the Duke nearly shed a tear? “Fucking Hell, Bing-Bong. How dare you be so selfless… You were supposed to just rocket your fat-ass out of there and leave that yellow bitch behind! Sadness deserved better!”

 …

 They were getting off topic now.

 “Anyway! We are now known to the world and that is all thanks to Thomathy! Isn’t that a fucking achievement?!”

 “I mean…” Logan thought it over. His mind was in a whirl. After all, Remus wasn’t wrong. People knew about them. Thomas had achieved more than the average person. He had done far more than was expected of him in his youth. He had done so much and Logan… Logan felt his chest swell with pride.

 The heat of Remus’ presence was fading, Logan looking up to then blush a bright red as he caught the almost amusing sight of the Duke attempting to shuffle his way back under the lounge cushions. He stood up, holding the pillow up and out of the way, the Dark Side grinning up at him as he scooted himself under all the pillows. Before Logan replaced the final one over Remus’ head and shoulders, he took a moment to gather his words.

 “T-… Thank you, Remus. I didn’t… I didn’t know how much I needed that.”

 “Eh, not a problem! You better go to bed. You look like you’re going to pass out and you don’t want to know what I’ll do with your unconscious body if you do.” Logan obliged, hurriedly and roughly slamming the pillow down and over Remus’ face, forcing the embarrassed flush to his cheeks to cool down.

 He returned to his room, laying down, mind calm and focussed on only one thing; his exhaustion clawing at his eyes and audibly pleading him to sleep. Or that could just be Remus downstairs, demanding he sleep. Either way, Logan obliged, even allowing himself an extra hour of blissful calm before the alarm call of Roman’s horrified shriek reverberated up the stairs. Today was going to be a good day.

  ~X~

#3 (A HISTORY, FORGOTTEN) 

 The Imagination was laid out before him; a vast landscape with a variety of unique worlds to explore. Patton had never realised just what Roman had meant when he said that the Imagination was enormous. He had been expecting a room perhaps a little larger than a gymnasium at most, but instead, there was a horizon, and a wide range of places to explore.

 He had been so excited when Roman had invited him to explore, but since he had been called away by his villagers to plan an upcoming festival for Christmas, Patton had been left to wander the streets. This was just one of Roman’s many medieval-inspired towns; small with crooked stone lining the roads, a large well at its centre and a church up a winding hill path. The people were bright, with wide eyes and large smiles that would politely offer a flower or baked bread if they weren’t busy with decorating.

 The town was an explosion of red and white, ribbons connecting building rooftops and fir trees growing on every street corner. It was beautiful, truly. Patton just wished he could spend his time fawning over the festive spirit with Roman. Without him, the townsfolk seemed to enter into a different setting, still participating in conversations with each other and seeking out Roman like the celebrity he seemed to be. The further away Patton had walked, the more the townsfolk came to ignore him and go about their days like he was an invisible entity.

 He didn’t mean to walk so far, but he had been distracted. He felt like a Disney princess when the first white bunny came up to sniff at his hand. Then another, this time a dark brown. A fawn and its mother leapt through the tall grass outside of the village limits, and Patton was head over heels. He had always loved animals (spiders being the exception), but to have them not be so skittish was a dream come true. He looked back at the village behind him, hearing the commotion faintly from within, but turned his baby blue eyes back over the sight before him.

 Roman didn’t have to worry. He could surely just wander and explore a little more without the other getting distracted from his duties. He knew it wasn’t a particularly smart idea to walk off, but he wasn’t a child. He knew what to look for, and besides, he wouldn’t go far. With one last, hesitant glance over his shoulder, Patton stepped off the road and bounded after the deer, the bunnies hot on his heels.

 They led him deep into a nearby forest, filled with wild oak trees and emerald grass, lines of white and red mushrooms and the faint trickle of a natural spring somewhere deep in the woods. Birds had come to join him as he ran; sparrows, finches and bluebirds, each singing their little tunes. It was harmonic and joyous. He felt like he could fly. His cardigan’s sleeves flew into his face a couple of times, but it only helped to stir his laughter. He felt like a kid all over again.

 He didn’t know how far he had gone, but by the time he tripped over a high root, he could feel a deep-seated burn in his muscles. The ache from his fall caused him to shake his head, trying to get those little birds to stop twittering so loud in his ear. He sat up in the dirt, looking all about, noting how the birds had fluttered away as quickly as they had joined him. There was no sight of the deer and its baby, and the rabbits, it seemed, had scampered off or had been left behind in Patton’s rush to explore.

 He sat at the base of a gnarled tree, looking up to see how the leaves and branches all came together to make an emerald roof above his head. Faint, golden glimmers of the setting sun shone down onto him, the forest around him growing darker, but no less beautiful as the sun sank in the sky.

 ‘Over here~’

 Patton’s ears picked up on the sound. It was almost a click in his paternal instincts. A child’s voice, faint and distant spoke to him, from somewhere in the surrounding foliage.

 “Hello?” He called, standing up and glancing about, hoping to see someone. Instead, he saw nothing. The forest was quiet; no birds, no footsteps, and no wind. It was a little strange, but Patton was much too focussed on finding the owner of that voice.

 ‘Hello~’

 There it was again. Patton glanced back over his shoulder, the sound of childish laughter ringing in his ears. He released a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, watching as there was a flash of a small figure darting between the trees behind him. He turned, jogging over with a smile on his face, chuckling as he tried to stealthily approach the tree. He whipped around the corner.

 “Gotcha-!” Only, he didn’t. No one was there. But… He was certain he had seen them dart over that way…

 ‘I’m over here~’

 Patton’s eyes turned up, noting the bright eyes peeking around the side of a tree, a mischievous grin on the chubby face. Those little hands held on tightly to its bark, the child’s laughter sounding again. How did Patton know this little one? He seemed so familiar.

 That mop of dark hair darted behind the tree once more, Patton catching the wisp of silver strands in the fringe before the head disappeared. He felt his heart leap into his throat. No way… It couldn’t be… He darted forward, once more rounding the tree but greeted with only a patch of grass and dirt. More laughter.

 ‘Silly-Billy, Papa-Patton~’

 ‘I have run away again~’

 He knew these words. He hadn’t heard them in years. Not since... He spotted the child running away through ferns and bramble bushes, avoiding the thorns and every root with such adventurous grace. There was laughter again, wild and familiar.

 ‘I want to play some tricks and run~’

 ‘Away from home and have some fun~’

 This nursery rhyme was something Patton had not heard in at least two decades. Though it was something to help find the tot when he and Roman were still young, now it felt so much more haunting. He was running at full speed after the child, noticing he was closing the distance.

 “Remus?!”

 ‘In the forest, I do not worry~’

 ‘Cause Papa-Patton will be in a hurry~’

 ‘To catch me and take me home~’

 ‘Into danger I will not roam~’

 He reached out with one hand, watching how his hand was almost at Remus’ shoulder. He almost had him. But as his hand stretched and made to halt the running figure, he watched as his fingers fell through, Patton tripping forward and into the dirt. He looked up, in time to see the child vanish like a puff of smoke. Remus…

 ‘When I trip and fall, he’ll be there to catch me~’

 ‘Or the monsters will come, and away they’ll take me~’

 Patton felt tears rolling down his face, helping to glue dirt to his cheeks. His glasses were gone, having fallen free from the crook of his nose. His hands searched the ground, feeling nothing but sharp rocks and dead grass. That… That was not what Roman’s forest was like.

 There was the crunch of heavy footsteps, larger than anything Patton had been chasing. He felt his chest rise and fall, attempting to take in deep breaths and calm down. He was beginning to panic. He turned around so he was on his back, eyes wide. The world around him was dark. He would barely be able to see a few feet in front of him if he wasn’t blind already. However, he did see movement. Something dark shuffled closer; Patton could hear heavy breaths and bellows of a giant creature as it moved closer.

 Then came the smell. Something decaying and rotten washed over him with the hot breath of the animal. It was putrid. Sickening. What was it?! Patton attempted to scramble back, but one large paw pressed him into the dirt, sharp claws tearing his shirt but not yet flaying his skin. He couldn’t breathe.

 “Help…”

 The thing just huffed in response, turning its apparently massive head back and forth as if to eye him closer. To understand what he was. Patton could feel the saliva dripping down onto his cheek, burning hot to the touch and just emphasizing the smell of something deceased.

 “Help.”

 It tilted its head. Then, Patton felt his heart nearly stop, watching with a blurred mix of colour as the beast opened its jaws, a red tongue lashing out to lick up his face. Patton then felt another tongue, and then a third. He felt sick. He breathed again.

 “HELP!”

 “Heel!” Patton heard a familiar voice command, the creature releasing Patton from beneath its weight and backing up. Patton scrambled away, feeling for his glasses in desperation. He heard footsteps, nothing like the beast that had nearly eaten him, and then felt someone’s fingers gently place something over his nose and eyes. He could see!

 “Hey, little grey, cardigan hood~.” Now that was a purr that Patton recognised. From where he lay, he lifted his gaze from the black, calf high boots, up the green and black striped pants to the over the top sash and suit that Duke wore. The man was smiling down at him, offering him a hand up. Patton graciously took it, backing hurriedly away and behind Remus as the beast came closer.

 “Cerberus, heel.” It did so. Now that Patton had his glasses, he could see that it was a three headed dog, with fur as dark as Remus’ own fashion sense, moss and vines threaded through fur, with a tail more akin to a donkey’s that was lashing about excitedly. It had taken a seat at Remus’ command, the Side moving over and wrapping his hands around the middle head’s snout, rubbing the muzzle affectionately. “It’s okay, Cerby~. Pattoncake was just a little scared.” He turned around to look back at Patton, grey eyes wide and wild.

 “You should give him a pet, Patty.”

 “N-No, thank you. He’s… Um…”

 “Oh, Cerby was just wondering who you were.” The left head opened its mouth as if to yawn, but then a tongue whipped out, far longer than Patton had ever seen, taking the opportunity to roughly lap up the side of his cheek again. Remus guffawed, grinning at Patton. “He likes you.”

 Patton bit his lip, looking up at the dog’s three heads, all of them stooped down so Remus could share his affection between them. Even at this position, the dog was about eight feet tall. He nervously stepped closer, raising a shaking hand up to the left head, Remus turning his attentions to the right most head. The panting beast tilted its skull one way, offering Patton an open space to scratch and rub. He took it with relief.

 He felt himself beginning to relax, and though he had been disgusted and terrified (and still was), watching this great, lumbering creature kick its leg at his chin scratches had him giggling with glee.

 “So, what are you doing here? I don’t often get visitors.”

 “Visitors?”

 “Well, yeah. I mean, you passed onto my territory about an hour ago.”

 “Oh…” He had the decency to look as embarrassed as he sounded. “I didn’t realise.”

 “Nah, that’s okay. You just got to be careful. I love all my creations, but not all of them love you. Trust me. You’re lucky you didn’t run into Grendel, or my zombies. Those undead bitches could run you down faster than a machine gun could mow you down.” He grinned, though it slipped at the sight of Patton’s grimace.

 “W-Well, I just was following what sounded like a child.” He didn’t feel it necessary to give all the details. “They were calling out to me, and I thought they looked familiar. They disappeared when I got close enough though.”

 “Oh, that.” Remus rolled his eyes. “Those are just wisps.”

 “Wisps?”

 “You know… Will-O-Wisps?”

 “I heard you, but I thought they carried lanterns or fire or something…”

 “Oh, they do. But sometimes they employ other tricks. Sometimes, their little lamps are not enough, so they use other methods.”

 “So, that child…”

 “Is dead. Whatever you saw, that child is dead.”

 Patton felt his heart go ice cold, constricting in his chest at the thought. No… That wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. After all, Remus was standing before him right now. Wasn’t he?

 “And what if I know for a fact that the child is alive?”

 Remus gave him a crooked look, confused as to why the other seemed to press this issue. He whistled up at Cerberus who took to standing, Remus moving around to hoist himself up onto the back of his mighty… hound. He held a hand out, offering Patton a comforting look. Well, that was something Patton hadn’t seen in years.

 “Then you must be wrong.” He hoisted Patton up and onto Cerberus’ back with ease, and gave a light kick to Cerberus’ ribs so that the three headed dog started off charging into the trees. Patton yelped, clinging on for dear life whilst Remus’ maniacal laughter sounded through the air.

 They reached the border in no time at all, Cerberus bounding to a final stop, crouching low to allow Patton to slip onto his feet. Having seen the transition from Remus’ land to Roman’s, it was a wonder how Patton didn’t notice the difference the first time. Where the dark forest with thorny brambles ended, the lush meadows began. Patton could see the sky now, dark, but filled with stars.

 “Thanks Remus.”

 “Don’t mention it. Seriously.” His looked turned dark, leaning forward from where he sat to glare down at Morality. “Don’t fucking mention this to anyone.” Patton felt a heavy stone in his throat, making it hard to swallow. His worries were washed away with Remus’ eyes glinting and his smile returning.

 “You know. Don’t need my reputation as a ‘bad guy’ going down the fucking toilet. Otherwise, I’ll have no excuse to invade Roman.” He laughed aloud, Patton joining him. It had been so long since Patton had spent any real time with Remus, and now, even with his potty-mouth and rather dark sense of… well, anything… Patton could still see the faintest traces of the boy he raised.

 The boy he left behind.

 “Remus, I know you said otherwise, but I know what I saw…” The Duke’s head tilted, curious as to where Patton was going with his words. “That wisp… It showed me a child that I know is alive and well. I’ve seen him.”

 “You’re wro-”

 “I’m not. Remus… Who I saw was-”

 “Patton!” Roman’s voice, clear as crystal, cut through their conversation, Patton peering back over his shoulder. Roman approached on his white steed, looking rather frazzled but no less relieved. “I was wondering where you had been. I had half the kingdom searching for you.”

 “Ro-Bro!” Roman shot a glare Remus’ way, turning his attention back to Patton and offering him a hand to climb atop the horse’s back.

 “Remus.”

 “Is that all you have to say, cityscape?” Roman’s glare turned back up to Remus. There was tension in the air, Patton could feel heat from both of their looks; one angered and the other taunting.

 “Stay on your side.”

 “Ah, well, of course. Good to know you are just as straight to the point as ever.” That didn’t sound like Roman. “Welp, this was fun, Moron-ality.” That stung a bit. Looking over at Remus, his wide baby-blue eyes connected with Remus’ glaring grey eyes. He could see the flecks of emerald within flashing, but it was not with malice. “Try not to get lost again.”

 With a gentle kick to Cerberus’ ribs, the hound picked up its haunches, all six dark eyes wide in much the same way of a pleading puppy. With a whine from Cerberus and a pet down each of his dark necks, the two of them disappeared back into the woods. Roman, in turn, pulled his horse around gently, and started at a slow trot back towards his castle, and inevitably his bedroom door.

 “Roman?”

 “Yes, Patton?”

 “What can you tell me about wisps?”

 “Why?”

 “Please…”

 Roman took a moment, glancing back at Patton with confusion, but no frustration. He sighed softly, taking a moment to think.

 “They’re spirits. Ones that lead travellers off the path so they may too be lost forever and become one of them.”

 “So, they’re… really dead?”

 “Well… Yes and no. Some are exactly that. Poor, unfortunate souls passing through that became malevolent spirits. But, there are some that are a little… different.”

 “How?”

 “One’s physical form does not technically have to… pass. Sometimes, all that is needed is the trauma of being lost or left behind. It is like an astral projection as Logan called it-…” Patton had stopped listening, eyes brimming with tears. He shed them quietly, hiding his shame by nuzzling his face into Roman’s back.

 Oh Remus…

 He never meant to leave.

  ~X~

#4 (DON’T STOP ME NOW) 

 After everything they had done. After all of this. Why now? What had changed? He just didn’t understand. Why would they do this to him? He trusted them. Was it misplaced? Had he done something foolish by trusting them to have their best interests at heart? Surely those two villains had done enough, poisoning their minds against him. That was why he was in here and everyone else was downstairs. Those… creatures had ruined everything.

 Roman’s room had never been in such a state. He couldn’t bear to look at the destruction he had caused. The walls, with their golden trim, had been stained a bright and sick wash of colour. The rainbow of paints were beautiful to start, but then they had started leaking down the wall, mixing together in an amalgamation of browns, sick greens and greys. His mirrors were shattered, arcs of glass lining the floors like a minefield of hideous broken smiles and crooked glares.

 His bed was a mess, the swan feather pillows torn to shreds and the draperies that normally hid his sleeping form from sight were ripped off and shredded across the glass shards. His room was a disaster zone of canvases, broken pencils and crushed roses. It would have made quite the dramatic sight, and he had no doubt that if Logan were to see what he had done, he would be chastised for his childish behaviour. Patton would probably be on the brink of breaking down and Virgil would probably just roll his eyes at Roman’s anguish.

 Those two, however… He grit his teeth, grinding down to prevent himself from letting a sound undignified of a prince. He wanted to roar, take his sword out and charge down the stairs. Strike out, clash weapons and then turn up victorious to shouts of his fellow Sides praising him for saving them from Deceit’s lies and Remus’ threats.

 There was a knock at his door. He bit back the urge to hiss at the one disrupting his thoughts, and felt his voice come through without his permission.

 “Leave.”

 There was silence from the doorway. No one tried to turn the knob, but he couldn’t hear anyone make the walk of shame back down the corridor. Good for them. There wasn’t anything to entertain them here. Roman was done entertaining. He was done with this and how everyone seemed to turn against him.

 He finally heard whomever was outside stepping away. It seemed slow, hesitant, but Roman cared little for them and their feelings. He had enough of being selfless. His opinions were shot down continuously, and with Logan and Patton constantly giving their input, Thomas seemed unable to put another’s words on the same pedestal. He held those two in such high regards that there never seemed much point in arguing.

 Another series of knocks. He hadn’t noticed the Side’s return, but just felt a low growl sound deep within his chest when he opened his mouth to answer. He shut himself down, not wanting to give the others more of a reason to ignore him. He wasn’t his brother. He wasn’t an animal.

 There was an explosion of sound, Roman shocked to his feet as his door caved in with a powerful swing of an all too familiar Morningstar. Splinters of wood cascaded across the room, Roman’s hand whipping to his left hip and pulling his katana free from its place. Through the hole where his door once stood, the familiar form of him entered, head tilted at an uncomfortable angle, eyes wide and crazed, bearing a toothy grin. He reminded Roman of a wolf or shark with how he appeared; a predator hunting.

 “Oh, brother~!” Remus lunged forward, swinging his weapon high. Roman had little time to dodge, just managing to dart to the side. The Morningstar’s head came down where Roman had been standing, leaving a crater in his bedroom floor. He whipped his head around, eyes flashing dangerously as he darted ahead, keeping up with Roman’s every move. From the door, Roman could hear Patton’s cries of horror.

 He brought his sword up, in time to prevent the Morningstar from connecting to his jaw. It would have broken it, probably his entire neck if he hadn’t been fast enough. Their weapons clashed, a glint of silver and sparks, Roman holding his brother back with what strength that remained. After the destruction of his room by his own hand, he was exhausted. And it showed. Remus’ strength was pressing down on Roman’s, his katana screeching.

 “REMUS! Get a hold of yourself!”

 “No.” Remus pushed him back, sending Roman onto the mattress, the prince having to scramble back to avoid a blow to the family jewels. “Nein.” Another swing down in the same location, caving the bed in with a crunch. “Non.” He swung just over Roman’s head. It would have been like one of those dramatic fight scenes where a blade would just barely cut his hair. It was too close for comfort. “Nyet.” His brother had gotten slower in their time apart, it seemed.

 “What has gotten into you?!” He dodged back, Remus tackling him across the bed, pinning him to the floor with his weight. He lifted his Morningstar high, but with a strong hit of the katana’s hilt, Remus lowered his weapon, one hand clutching his ribs. Roman kicked him off, scrambling back over glass and paint, wincing as the shrapnel sliced the skin of his hands.

 “Me? What has gotten into you?!” He recovered quickly, following Roman quickly across the bedroom. Roman had stood and was immediately kicked back into the vanity, feeling the wind rush out of his lungs. Remus stepped forth, arm arcing high above his head, bringing it down just as Roman crouched. What was left of the mirror was obliterated.

 “Remus! Stop this!” Logan’s voice, unusually loud and panicked, carried over the sounds of their battle.

 “That’s enough! You’re hurting him!” Patton cried, Virgil keeping him from running into the room to get between them.

 “I want to.” Their weapons clashed again, Roman pressing back against his brother. All of his swinging and wild motions had caused him exhaustion. He was weakening. “I want to hurt him.”

 Roman could recall how often the two of them had practised their fighting skills when they were young. Just as they were now, they were enemies; Roman constantly being invaded by Remus who just sang about how much he wanted to ‘play’. Well, it became almost a weekly practise. They exchanged blows and Remus would return to his respective side of the imagination. Remus had always lost every battle. Every fight Roman would be the victor. It would be no different now. They played their roles well as children, and it certainly wouldn’t change now.

 There was an ear-splitting shriek of steel and a loud crack. Roman and Remus shared a look of shock, watching how half of Roman’s blade crumbled under the pressure. It flew out of sight beneath the bed, Roman letting out a pained wretch as the shaft of the Morningstar slammed down over his throat. He couldn’t breathe. His arms flung out wildly, attempting to push back against Remus’ grip. Remus, despite his efforts against him, still seemed just as stunned by the turn of events.

 “Remus, enough!” The words of that snake cut through Patton’s cries and Roman and Remus’ heavy breathing. Remus turned his head ever so slightly, the smile beginning to etch its way back onto his face. It was slow. Malicious.

 “Ani.”

 “Remus…”

 “Ochi.”

 “Remus, this has gone far enough!”

 “NO, IT HASN’T!” With a forceful push onto Roman’s throat, cutting off his oxygen supply completely for a brief moment, Remus took to standing. He stalked towards Deceit, arm swinging lazily. Roman watched with wide eyes as the human half of Janus’ face morphed from one of anger to horror. Deceit had never been afraid of Remus.

 “It has never been enough.” Remus said, Roman forcing himself to turn over and pick himself up. He was coughing. Trying to regain his thoughts through his swimming vision. He saw a glint beneath his bed. Something sharp.

 “Remus, please…”

 “It is not enough! I need… I need more…” Remus glanced back at Roman, and for a moment Roman feared Remus was aware of what he was doing. For a moment, Remus’ eyes followed his brother’s arm, up and under the bed, with his hand out of sight. He turned his attention back to Deceit.

 He didn’t notice.

 “I want him gone. I want him dead!” He raised his Morningstar, Deceit backing up under that frightful gaze. “He stifles me! He keeps me locked away!” Roman could make out how Deceit’s cape opened further, all of his hidden hands peeking out from under the cloak, ready to fend off his friend. “I am DONE!”

 Roman lunged forward, his hand having gripped tightly around the broken blade, feeling the edge cut deep into his fist. He aimed downward, watching as the point enter into Remus’ calf, slicing down through his pants and flesh. Blood spurted free, blinding Roman as it entered his eyes. A roar erupted from deep within his brother’s chest, the Morningstar falling to the floor behind him. Deceit ran forward, attempting to grab Remus and prevent his descent. Instead, Remus slapped his hands away as he collapsed.

 Roman pulled himself up from where he was on the floor, wiping his face free of blood. Remus let out a sound similar to a whine, hands trying to staunch the bleeding. Roman quickly pushed the Morningstar away and out of Remus’ now reaching hand. A look of fury passed over Remus’ tired features.

 “You’re done, Remus.”

 “I-…” Remus attempted to stand, immediately falling back into his crouched position, his teeth grit tight. He turned his dark eyes up at Roman, the prince noting how he could see the faintest traces of tears in the other’s eyes. Never had Roman seen that before. Every time Remus and he had fought, it didn’t matter the injuries, Remus never cried. He had never cried from pain before. “I’m not done.”

 “Leave.” Roman stared him down, the Duke growling between bared teeth, attempting to stand once more. It was a pitiful sight. “It’s over. You’ve lost. Again.”

 Roman took a breath when he watched Remus sink into the floor, his body becoming near transparent to allow for Remus to return to his hovel. Their eyes never parted, Roman’s warm brown eyes, filled with pity and a rage slowly simmering down, meeting eyes filled with fury, upset, embarrassment and… what was that?

 “Roman.”

 “Quiet.” He turned back to the reptilian side, Deceit holding his head high despite Roman’s tone. “I… Thank you, Dec-… Janus.” A look of confusion through Deceit’s features, Roman biting back the urge to say something demeaning. “You really helped me there.”

 “That’s my job.”

 “I mean it. Thank you.”

 Patton, Logan and Virgil entered, each of them beginning to fuss and express their concerns as to what had just occurred. Remus was unpredictable but never had he lashed out in such a way before. Patton immediately started worry about Roman’s throat and the bruising that was beginning to form. Logan headed downstairs and out of sight to collect the first aid kit, not wanting Roman to receive an infection from the glass. Virgil offered to help clear his room of the debris whilst Janus sunk out of sight. As he disappeared in much the same fashion as Remus, he told them he would speak to Remus, and determine what had set him off.

 Even now as the Light Sides continued their ministrations and fussing, Roman’s thoughts played back their fight and how they played their roles. How Remus had seemed so slow compared to his usual manic behaviour. How he could have killed Roman then and there but turned his attention to Deceit. The unshed tears in his eyes and the look he gave Roman as he sunk out and back to the Dark.

 He knew that look. It was the same look Patton gave Virgil when he agreed to talk about his problems. It was the same look Logan had when Thomas came to the necessary conclusion. It was the same look Virgil had when Logan had complimented his train of thought. It was the same look that Janus had when the Sides had agreed to accept him into the Light. But it couldn’t be…

 In those last moments before Remus had sunk out… The villain had given the hero a look of pride.

 Remus was proud of him…

  ~X~

#5 (EVERYBODY SINS) 

 Deceit had sunk back down into the Dark Side corridor, looking back and forth down the hall. Where there was once six doors, including the one that opened into the Subconscious, now there was only four. The one that opened to the shared bathroom was open, with a long trail of blood leading into it. There was the sound of running water in a porcelain tub, Janus taking a moment to steel himself for what he was about to see.

 He had never been scared of Remus before. When he had found him as a child wandering about in the Imagination, he had been surprised. He had heard about Romulus’ split, but he didn’t expect the divide to revert the brothers into children. Still, he had offered his hand and led the crying and screaming child back into the Dark. Remus had grown quickly to accommodate Thomas’ age, and during this time, Remus mind went manic. Thousands of thoughts ran through his head, all of them building up into a painful migraine that couldn’t be relieved. Even then, Janus had never been scared of him or his episodes.

 He had been so caught up in the moment, the adrenaline pounding through his head and drums beating loudly in his ears, he couldn’t decipher lies from truth. How Remus had shouted and roared about his desires to kill and maim. To get out of the cage he was trapped within. Now that Deceit had the time to calm down, his mind caught onto the lies.

 “Remus?” He stepped into the bathroom after Remus, looking down as the other lay deep in the water, his left leg propped up on the rim of the tub. The cut was deep, the water already a sickly colour. He held a thin line of thread and needle in his fingers, paying Janus no mind when he entered. He grimaced as the needle was pushed through skin and muscle, piercing it and then pulling the thread through it with a wince. Remus was biting down hard on the leather of his belt, eyes fixed and concentrated.

 Janus stooped low, picking up the Duke’s uniform and tossing it away in the hamper, before moving and taking an uncomfortable seat on the tile. For a moment, Remus’ eyes looked up at him but they seemed tired. Ashamed.

 “Do you not need help?”

 Remus took a moment, eyes turned down to the water. He seemed to think on it for a moment before nodding his head bashfully. Janus took the needle from him, Remus laying back and trying to relax his body, the tension in his calf loosening. It was a sickening sight, as if Remus’ calf was a raw piece of pork, sliced open with a meat cleaver. The muscle hung off the bone. Sewing it together would take some time, as would the healing process. He got to work.

 Every stitch was slow and calculated. He needed to be sure he did it right lest the wound fall apart and open again. Every prick of the needle caused Remus to wince, the grinding of his teeth became especially prominent however when Janus had to pull the muscle together. Even though they were metaphysical human beings, with the power to conjure and create within the Mindscape, injuries still caused them a lot of pain and strife. And if left untreated… Janus tried not to think about the last time he was sitting on the rim of the bathtub, watching as someone bled out in the water.

 It was a long and excruciating process, the water now cold from how long the two of them sat there. Remus appeared paler than usual. It was not surprising, considering how it seemed he had all but stained the bathwater red. Janus stood, beginning to rummage his way through the drawers until he found some bandages. Since that time, he always kept them in there, and since Remus’ exploits often left him bleeding and bruised, it meant they would be used. Just as they were now. The belt was discarded onto the floor, Janus clearing his throat as he began to wrap up the wound.

 “Remus…”

 No answer.

 “What happened up there?”

 Remus let his head loll lazily to one side, exhausted features and his dark eyes half-lidded were enough to tell Janus that this was a conversation best saved for later. But he couldn’t let this get swept under the rug like so many things before. This was not something they should be quiet about.

 “Don’t tell me.”

 “Are you still accepted?”

 Janus furrowed his brow in confusion, watching as Remus’ lips stretched to accommodate a tired smile.

 “Yes. Just as you are.”

 “No.”

 “W-What do you mean ‘no’? Just because of what happened, they’re not going to-”

 “I’m not going up there.” He pulled himself up to sit higher, and then into a standing position. Almost immediately Janus was there to catch him as he half tumbled out of the tub and into Deceit’s six waiting arms. “I don’t deserve it.”

 “Well, after that-”

 “I don’t just mean that. Everything… Everything I have done… I don’t-” Remus’ breath caught in his throat, and Janus was shocked to feel Remus’ shoulders wrack with sobs. He collapsed completely in Janus’ arms, the Side having to hold up both their weight, and beginning to drag Remus out the door and down the long corridor towards his room.

 They passed by the door to the Subconscious. The dark and rotting wood, the sound of whipping wind and crashing waves from within causing them to quick their pace. They passed by his door, leaving it far behind them, the fiery, orange door glaring at them in the dark. The words ‘KEEP OUT’ were carved sharply and sloppily into the wood, something that they all kept in mind. Even Remus never bothered him.

 They finally reached Remus’ room, the door painted a deep green, chipped and with all kinds of scars and stains across it. Not all of them were Remus’ work. They entered the room beyond, dark and with a mess of papers strewn across the carpet. He helped Remus to the side of his bed, a nest of pillows and blankets, helping him reach the foot of the mattress and then using all six hands to clear it of the many pillows and excess blankets. Remus didn’t need his movement impaired.

 He laid him down, tucking his shivering body under the blankets. As he pulled his hands away, for a moment, he could see the tear tracks on Remus’ chubby cheeks, how his small hands clutched at the blankets, terrified in his new home. He shook that thought free when the real, adult Remus turned over in the sheets, offering him a thankful smile.

 “Why didn’t you do it?”

 “Because… Dee-Dee-…”

 “Don’t you-!” He caught himself from shouting as Remus’ smile dropped. “Please, Remus… Be serious. Just answer me this: Why?” The Side bit his lip, trying to well up the courage to answer.

 “Because Dee-… Janus… I knew his thoughts…”

 “And?”

 “He was angry. Scared… And he felt… Unwanted. He felt like he had no place. He had nowhere to go. I… I know how that feels.”

 “So-?”

 “So, I gave him what he needed. I played my part, and I think I did a pretty good job.” He tried to sit up, to produce a grin on his face, but it morphed into a wince. “And you are definitely accepted now, since they saw what you did, standing up to me, and…”

 “You didn’t need to do that, Remus!” He regretted raising his voice, at how Remus had sunk deep into the blankets, looking rather sheepish and embarrassed. He sighed, taking a moment to calm down. Remus was intelligent, but the man had always had a round-about way of thinking. It wasn’t a perfect train of thought that went from destination to destination. It was more like a puppy or child’s; rushing from topic to topic, from idea to idea, until something finally caught on.

 His methods had never been perfect. He had always been a little twisted, but that is what happened when you split your necessary mechanics into an overly complicated machine. Without the Ego to boost him, and without the thoughts of love and care, all that left Remus with were the thoughts no one wanted. Imagery of gross wounds and terrified souls, the feeling of fear and hatred that stemmed deep within, and the brutal honesty of this world. The reality of it all meant that Remus had no choice but to shoulder the heavy burden of all of Thomas’ unwanted thoughts and fears. Virgil was more than Fear and Anxiety, but Remus was the sum of his unfortunate parts.

 “Remus.” He got the other to raise his gaze up to meet his again, feeling his heart constrict at the sight. Despite his wounds, the Duke would always bounce back faster than any other Side. His morbid curiosity and playful habits caused him to be a non-stop machine of excitement and manic glee, but now… This was wrong.

 “What you did was a truly noble thing.” Remus’ eyes lit up. “I’m… I’m proud of you. Everything you have never done.” Remus mouth twisted into a grin, the look one much more suited to his face, but even now it looked strange. “Thank you.”

 “It’s nothing, Janus.”

 “No! It is not nothing.” He moved to sit on the bed beside him. Remus sat up and shifted, allowing Janus space to sit beside him. A pair of hands wrapped around Remus’ shoulders, a second pair lifting the blankets back up to cover Remus. Remus lifted himself up to remove his bowler hat, tossing it onto a nearby bedside table. He smirked up at Janus.

 “Your hair is a fucking mess.”

 “As eloquent as ever, Remus.”

 “Least I don’t look like Edward Scissorhands came at me.”

 “He wasn’t canonically good at cutting hair.”

 “Oh…” It took Remus a minute to think. “Well, then you look terrible.”

 “Oh, my cold, shrivelled heart~!” Remus began laughing, a pained sound but no less delighted at Janus playing along. “You wound me with your sharp tongue!”

 “I can do more than just that with my tongue~.” They both began laughing together, loud and unashamed. Truly it was a few minutes of careless delight, as if what had happened within the last two hours had never happened at all. Even now, it seemed as though Remus was the one caring for him and making him feel better, despite having a slice in his leg a little over half a foot long.

 After they had calmed down, they sat together in peace, Remus resting his dark head of hair against Janus’ collar, the silver fringe tickling the deceitful Side’s chin and neck. One hand rose to pet down Remus’ hair, a sound akin to purring coming from deep within the Side’s chest in response. He was just like Virgil in how they both loved their hair being stroked and played with.

 “Remus…”

 “Mhm?”

 “Are-… Are you going to be okay down here?” There was a shrug in Remus’ shoulders, Janus hoping for something more but rolling his eyes when he heard nothing. “Will you not be alright on your own here?”

 “I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not like I’m really alone. You know-”

 “I know he still lives here, but you know as well as I that his presence here does little to stave off boredom.” Remus cringed at that. Yeah, he was one that was much more prone to boredom and loneliness. When Deceit had left him behind the first time so he could go and see Thomas in person, when he returned he had been barrelled over by a bored ball of energy that had wrapped him up in a hug so tight he could barely breathe.

 “I’ll be fine, Janus. I just… I’m just tired. Can we just go to sleep?”

 “You can. I have to go upstairs and tell the others you’re fine-”

 “Don’t!” Remus had shoot up, eyes wide with what seemed to be fear and mania. “You can’t! Roman can’t know!”

 “Remus.”

 “No! You can’t tell them! If they find out, they’ll kick you out and back down here, and I know you have wanted to be accepted forever but they-”

 “Remus.”

 “- Will probably think you were working with me to do it and Roman… He needed it, Janus! We can’t take that away from him-”

 “Remus!” That shut him up. “For the love of everything bad in the world will you let me finish?” The other remained silent, Janus taking the moment to conclude he was letting him speak.

 “I won’t tell the others about that if you really want. I won’t take it away from Roman. But I’ll see to it that my room will return so I can stay here.”

 “No.”

 “Remus-”

 “I won’t lie to you, Janus.” Well, he couldn’t anyway. Both of them knew that Deceit could determine any lie, especially when it was said to his face. “I don’t want you here.”

 His heart broke.

 “What?”

 “I don’t want you here. I want you to go to the Light side. I want you to leave.” There was no string pulling on Janus’ mind. No feeling of a fly trapped in a spider’s web. No tug on his heart letting him know what he heard was false. He felt his heart clench in his chest.

 “I don’t want you here with me, anymore.” It was the truth. “I don’t want you here and worrying about me anymore.” The truth. “I want you to be with the Light Sides, because that’s where you belong.”

 Truth.

 “You’ve finally been accepted and I don’t want to take away from that. If I have to be the villain, then so be it. If I have to be on my own, I need to learn to deal with it.” Janus felt the ice in his heart melting. “I care about you, Janus. A lot. I can’t bear the knowledge that you won’t be with them because of me. It is what you have always wanted and I refuse to take away from that.”

 “Remus, I won’t leave you here.”

 “Let me be selfless, just this once.” The other’s look was a serious one; it told him there was no room for arguments and as much as he wished to ignore him and wish his door to return, he couldn’t do that to Remus. The second half of creativity had always hated it when others ignored him or his ideas; how they spoke over him and altered his words. It broke Remus a little every time and Janus… Janus was not about to do that to him again.

 “I’ll visit.”

 “When?”

 “Every day if I have to.”

 “God, you’re such a sap.” But the smile on Remus’ face was genuine, the light in his eyes brighter than ever. He turned himself over so he laid back against Janus’ chest, shutting his eyes and beginning to drift away. Janus would tell the Light Sides in the morning about Remus’ condition. Now was not the time.

 Now was the time to sleep.

  ~X~

#6 (BROKEN THINGS) 

 ‘We’re done listening to you.’

 ‘You have nothing of valuable measure to contribute.’

 ‘P-Please, just go.’

 ‘Return to your little lair, brother dear.’

 The words rang through his head, pounding like a school bell on crack or a fire alarm on acid, wailing like mad through his skull. His hands clasped at the side of his skull, trying to relieve the pressure with more pressure. He didn’t get how it worked, but it always did somehow. Now though… Now it didn’t do anything but cause the voices to cry louder.

 He laughed at the irony of it all, feeling the hollow sound in his chest reverberate through the cavity between his ribs, where his heart should be. His apparent lack of heart had been brought up many a times, but he didn’t believe it. It might be small, insignificant or disgusting but it existed. Now though, he wasn’t so sure.

 ‘We’re done listening to you.’

 When did you ever listen to him, Emo? The only time Virgil actually paid attention to what he had to say, he couldn’t even remember it in the fucking first place! The Subconscious ate up his memories as it was prone to do. After he had thrown him through the doorway and into the corridor, he had sunk faster than ever out of sight, tired but still fighting back the Subconscious death grip on his waist and arms. He had pulled himself free in time to see Virgil and Janus sat in the bathroom together, arms wrapped tightly around each other and in near tears.

 His method had worked. Implanting that trigger in Virgil’s mind had kept his wrists clear of further scars, but after that experience, Virgil had put further distance between them. It was clear he didn’t remember Remus’ efforts, but he could still tell that part of his anguish was the fault of the big, bad villain.

 ‘You have nothing of valuable measure to contribute.’

 That is not what he said that night when it was just the two of them. Despite the other’s obvious discomfort, something Remus still delighted in, Logan had listened to what he had to say. He had been sat on the lounge for some time, contemplating and stressing all on his own until Remus had revealed himself.

 Despite his admittance and the many times the two had taken part in private, intelligent conversations, it seemed that Remus had barely left an impact. Logan was right. When Remus had first entered the picture and introduced himself to Thomas, Logan was right when he said he didn’t leave an impact. He couldn’t do fucking anything of note. Nothing to certainly be remembered.

 ‘P-Please, just go.’

 As polite as ever, Patton. As polite as fucking ever! Remus had stood to kick over the coffee table in the Dark sitting room, growling aloud like a wild animal. ‘Oh, won’t you stay here for just moment, kiddo?’ Oh, why yes, Patton! He could stand there as long as was needed! Apparently you needed eighteen years to actually return and come to see him again. That was fine!

 No… It wasn’t fucking fine! He didn’t even last eighteen minutes. He had messed up as he was prone to do. He had wandered after him, calling for Patton up until the edge of the thick, overgrown forest. He could see Patton walking away, hand-in-hand with his brother. Roman. The perfect child. Patton never held his hand. It was always too sticky, covered in mud, glue or blood. Even at a young age, Remus couldn’t help himself from sticking his fingers into what he found, including dead squirrels and birds. He always found them fascinating.

 ‘Return to your little lair, brother dear.’

 Well, was he happy now?! He had done exactly as Roman wanted. He had returned to the Dark side common room. Was that enough? Or did he mean for him to go further? His bedroom? His side of the Imagination? Or did he mean to the bloody Subconscious? He could get rid of himself if that was what Roman wanted, but then how would that affect Thomas?

 Thomas would probably be delighted. Now he would have only thoughts of butterflies, magic and rainbows, but then without Remus, he wouldn’t want to be honest. He couldn’t be. Without Remus, where was the confidence to talk about mature topics? Believe it or not, Thomathy, mental health was a fucking mature topic. Without Remus, he would be too scared to talk about it. Without him…

 Without him, Thomas wouldn’t have those nightmares that kept him up at night. Scenes of murder, executions, horrible acts of violence, disgusting scenes and visions of R-Rated topics would never occur. Without him, the others could keep him in line without trouble and without fear. Without him, Roman could have the entirety of the Imagination to himself, so he could create any and all things Thomas would ever want or need.

 He stormed about, tearing at the wallpaper and lounge cushions, leaving behind him a trail of ruin wherever he went. He had such pent up anger at them all. He had hid it all behind a smile and his insane laughter, and it was enough. Instead of seeing the pathetic shell that was left, they saw exactly what they expected; a Side on his home stretch. Remus turned his eyes over to the corridor. The one that once led to six rooms; the bathroom, Virgil’s room, Janus’ room, both of which had disappeared, his room and Remus’ room. And the Subconscious.

 His eyes held their gaze on that rotting door a little longer than he meant to, the thought louder than ever in his ears. Blood was pumping, muting him to anything other than the shrieks that echoed across his brain.

 ‘Do it’

 He stepped past the mess he had made, shards of glass and wood splinters crunching under his feet. He cared little for what he left behind, eyes focussed straight ahead.

 ‘Coward. Fucking do it’

 His hand reached out to the brass knob, twisting it in the socket and opening the door out and wide. The abyss stretched out before him; as dark and as foreboding as ever. Unlike the other times he had stared or entered the monster’s maw, now he felt something else deep within him; a heat that blossomed out through his chest that filled him from head to toe. He felt… welcome.

 Tendrils, as black as the abyss they came from, licked up the sides of his legs, being gingerly soft and gentle, taking care to avoid the still healing scar on his leg. More of the Subconscious’ form reached out towards him like long, prehensile tongues, soft and wet, yet cold. One licked up the side of his cheek, one across his neck, and an innumerable amount over his arms, hands and shoulders. It offered him a gentle tug.

 He accepted it.

 He stepped forth, letting the many limbs guide him along towards the threshold of the door. He felt a great weight being removed from his spine and brain. He blinked away the images of Roman’s disgusted face, the sound of Patton’s crying, the frustrated looks Logan shot his way and the angered hisses from Virgil at his mere presence. The walls of the Dark side of the Mindscape crumbled ever so slightly. He breathed in a fresh gulp of air, cold and intrusive. Perfect for him.

 His thoughts turned to Janus, and how the other would feel. After everything that happened, it seemed that only the deceitful side was the one to care. Not that he was surprised. It was his own fault for building himself up as the villain everybody needed. But how would he react? Would he appreciate not having to worry about him any longer? Or would he be as heartbroken as he had been when they had found Virgil?

 The tugs on his torso and legs pulled tight as Remus pressed his heels into the rug. No. Not yet. He wasn’t going just yet. Those impatient tendrils lashed at him, attempting once more to rip him from his place in the corridor and pull him in, but he stood his ground. There was the sound of someone landing on the floor of the common room, and a familiar hiss from the only Side that cared to see him.

 Realising their prey was immovable, those limbs pulled away, gently this time, gently licking his cheek on their return. Remus watched as the door quietly shut of its own accord, a deep rumbling coming from within. It was hungry. But it would wait.

 “Remus?!” Janus appeared in the corridor beside him, catching sight of Intrusive Thoughts standing before the door, but looking pleased. Pleased to see him. Remus skipped his way over, picking Janus up in his arms and swinging him around in delight, the Side trying not to let a laugh escape his lips at Remus’ actions. He finally placed him down on his feet, grinning wide at Deceit.

 “Sorry for the mess, Scales. Had to let off some steam.”

 “Don’t worry about it. I have some news.”

 “What?” He questioned, tilting his head to one side in confusion.

 “You’ve been accepted.”

 There was stunned silence that for a moment Janus held a look of concern that he may have broken Remus. He held up a hand, snapping gloved fingers in his face. Remus shook his head, blinking his wide eyes as he came back to.

 “You must be lying.”

 “I’m not. You’ve been accepted, and I can’t prove it.” He led Remus by the hand down into the corridor. Remus counted the doors. One door to the Subconscious. One door to the shared bathroom. One door to his room. They were missing one.

 “H-How?”

 “Thomas spoke to them without a little help from yours truly. The others want you to join the Light side. You can come with me.”

 “But I… I am the villain. I have to play my part.”

 “No, you don’t. You only have to play yourself, Remus. The eccentric idiot with a love of all things bloody and sexual; you have a place in the Light side.”

 “I can’t believe it.”

 “You don’t have to. But you trust me, don’t you?”

 It was a few minutes of silence whilst Remus processed this and everything else that had led up to this moment. Surely not. He couldn’t have been accepted just like that. No way. But Janus was being so sincere… But he wasn’t lying.

 With a great heave, Remus had once more lifted Janus into the air, spinning him around despite the other’s yelp and struggles. Laughter bellowed out from Remus, hugging Janus tight at last, trying not to throw up from the spins. The two of them sunk out together, away from the place that held so many twisted memories, good and bad.

 Behind them, the door to the Subconscious groaned and rumbled, like a stomach growling. Starved of its sustenance, the deep beast within the Mindscape waited. It would continue waiting. It could be patient.

 And Remus could not say ‘no’ forever.

 He knew that.

 It knew that.

 So hungry…

 As long as it needed to…

 It would wait…

(AUTHOR’S FOOTNOTE:  I hope you enjoyed this story, or it made you feel some things.

Sincerely,

Harcourt Holmes II.)

#sanders sides #sander fic #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #logan sander #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #fanfic #angst #implied/referenced self harm #suicide attempt #suicide #violence #blood #gore #swearing #remus being remus #nudity #self esteem issues #I be rambling #harcourtholmesii

[ververa]

Dangerous woman pt 2

So first things first, I’m really sorry, cause THIS IS BAD to say the least

Wilhemina Venable x Fem! reader

"Miss Venable..." your lower lip quivered as you started hesitantly

"Yes?"

"I haven't done that before"

"I know, but trust me, once you try you'll love it"

You nodded and opened your mouth.

"Good girl" she smirked "Now listen to me very carefully. I don't want to overstep any boundaries. So if you won't feel comfortable or if you can't take more curl your hand into a fist five times and I'll stop. Okay?"

You nodded.

"Good. I'll hit you 15 times. Since you're gagged I'll be the one to count out loud"

You nodded once again. Wilhemina pulled away and looked at you.

"You hear that?"

You shook your head a bit confused.

"Exactly. Finally that mouth of yours shut up" she stated "Now, as we've discussed earlier, I'm going to punish you" she moved and took a whip "You ready?"

You nodded closing your eyes and waiting with anticipation.

Venable put her cane on the bed nearby and stood behind you. She pulled your hair to the side and kissed the back of your neck.

"Good" she said against your skin

The feeling of her hot breath on your neck turning you on even more. You waited for it so long and wanted the moment to last forever. Though it was soon interrupted by a hit of the whip.

It's both painful and exciting at the same time. It's the most pleasurable pain you had ever felt. At least until the 12th hit. That's when it stopped be that funny. Your muscles began to tense more and more with each swipe of Wilhemina's merciless hand. It didn't go unnoticed by the older woman. She stopped and came closer to you.

"Three more hits, can you take it?" she asked looking at your hands clenched in fists.

You took a deep breath and nodded. You agreed to be punished and you knew she enjoyed it, so you're not going to deprive her of that satisfaction.

"Remember that you can use the signal and I'll stop" she reminded you slowly pulling away

You closed your eyes waiting for the hit.

"13, 14... 15!" Venable's voice echoed in your head

For a moment you felt dizzy. Your legs became weak and at that time you're grateful that Wilhemina had handcuffed you, cause if she hadn't, you'd most likely collapse.

"You did very well" she praised standing in front of you "You deserve a reward. But first let me take it off" she said and removed the gag

You looked at Wilhemina, but said nothing

"Cat got your tongue?" she chuckled

You shook your head.

"Let's continue, shall we?"

"Yes, Miss Venable"

"Honestly, I'm impressed. You're such a quick learner. Already know where's your place. Such a good pet" she praised once more taking the blindfold.

Wilhemina blindfolded you and moved so that she was right behind you. She then took her cane and slowly ran it down your spine. Your body shivered instinctively at the touch of a cold thing.

"Easy. I'm not going to hit you anymore. At least if you behave" she put her cane to the side and unhooked your bra

You're blindfolded, handcuffed and completely exposed to the other woman. You could feel a cold air all over your body. Especially on your butt, though you didn't care. Wilhemina's touch was too distracting for you to pay attention to both the coldness and the pain.

A loud whine echoed through the room, as Venable began to massage your breasts. She's still behind you. Her other hand moving down your back.

"Spread those beautiful legs, will you?"

You tried. You really did, but apparently that wasn't enough.

"I see. Well, since you don't want to cooperate I'll do it the other way" she stated pulling away

You couldn't see anything, but you did hear thw click of her shoes and her cane.

Oh God. What's going on? You asked yourself.

"It's cold" she warned

Before you knew she cuffed both your ankles to the leg spreader and there you were. Standing with your legs spreaded with no possibility of moving.

Wilhemina came back to her previous position behind you.

"Far more better" she said kissing your neck "I really don't know why you couldn't keep them spread like this. Is this too much to ask for?"

"N-no, Miss Venable"

"Good" she said and you could feel her hand slowly going down again.

It's not like you didn't like it. You did. At least you thought so. You couldn't say actually, because you had never done this before.

She was moving closer and closer. And with each inch you body became more tensed. You're nervous. More than you could remember being, but you said nothing. You're shying away, but didn't want her to stop. Though things became harder than you had expected.

Wilhemina was in front of you. You couldn't see her, but you felt her hot breathing on your chest. She kissed down your neck inserting her finger inside you. Or rather trying to do it.

"So tight my word" she whispered into your ear

It hurt. You bit your lip trying not to make any sound. Was it supposed to hurt? You had no idea, but Wilhemina knew what she was doing, so you kept quiet. You're doing your best to stop any kind of whine that may left your mouth. And you did it successfully, though you couldn't stop your tears.

Wilhemina notice a few tears that managed to escape and immediately stopped.

You let go of the air that you didn't even know you're holding.

Though questions began to overtake your mind.

Why did she stop? Did you do anything wrong?

"What the fuck? Y/N?" she asked with a concern, however for you it sounded more as if she were mad

You freaked out and couldn't stop the tears. Wilhemina tried to figure out what had happened. And that's when she noticed a few drops of blood on the white carpet. For a moment she was sure she must have hurt you, but as she carefully examined your body and found nothing she did understand.

"Y/N" she started with a concern "A-are you a... virgin?" she asked taking off the blindfold

For a moment you couldn't see anything. The whole room seemed to be so bright and new tears kept on springing into your eyes.

"I'm s-sorry. Miss Venable" you sobbed "I'm so sorry"

"No no. There's no need to be sorry" she moved to uncuff your legs "Y/N look at me"

But you couldn't. You're afraid to look at the other woman. So Wilhemina grabbed your chin and made you look at her, straight into her brown eyes.

"Don't cry. There's no need to cry, darling. It's okay. Just answer my question. Have You ever done this before?"

You shook your head.

"It's okay"

Wilhemina uncuffed your hands and hold you up knowing you won't be able to stand your ground. She led you to the bed and slowly lay you down.

You're choking on your tears and wanted to apologise again, but she didn't let you.

"Shhh" she placed her finger on your quivering lip "it's okay. Everything is fine"

"It's not. I'm so sorry Miss Venable. I-I... I didn't w-want to..." you didn't have a chance to finish, as she cut you off pressing her lips to yours

"Stop rambling, my dear. It's alright. I'm not upset or anything. Though you could have told me" she said wiping your cheeks and leaning in to capture your lips

You melted into her kiss and touch. And she could see that. That's why she kept on going. You were making out for some time, as Wilhemina figured out it helped you to calm down.

When you finally managed to stop crying and eased your breath the older woman slowly ran her fingers down your abdomen.

"Shall we continue?" she asked

Your body tensed, but she soothed you immediately

"I'll be more careful this time" she said kissing your forehead

You're hesitant, but looking into her eyes full of hope you nodded giving her a permission to continue.

"My brave girl" Wilhemina kissed you once more before she took two if her fingers into her mouth and then inserts one finger inside you

You began to tens up again

"Relax. There's no need to be nervous" she soothed

You closed your eyes and let Venable work. She was slowly moving her finger waiting for you to adjust. Only then did she add another one.

You whined, but Venable soothed once more

"You're doing great"

Wilhemina wasn't used to being gentle with anyone, but there she was taking care of you. And she must admit it was quite a nice feeling. For the first time in her life and her experience she had never needed to do anything like that, but damn, it felt better than being pleasured by her previous partners. She was in control more than ever before. She was your first...

She had never been anyone's first. The power that she had thanks to her experience felt amazing and she wanted nothing more, but to hear you moan her name. She liked edging and role play, though making you cum only for her felt far more better.

Someone might have told you that sex's not a big deal. But you lost your virginity. You lost it to the woman you loved with your whole heart and she had no idea about it.

"Wilhemina..." You moaned

"Yeah, yeah... Cum for me" she said trying to sound as if she didn't care. As if it was nothing to make you cum, yet it was. The way you screamed for her. The way your body trembled under her touch. That amazed her. She was in awe watching you slowly coming back from your high, though she's not the one to admit how much she enjoyed it. So she slowly withdrawn her fingers from you, without a single word.

You looked at her. She smiled seeing that you still didn't really recover from the feeling. Wilhemina caressed your cheek and wiped a few drops of sweat that formed on your forehead

You wanted to move

"What are you doing?" she asked

"I... Well I should do something for you now, right?"

"No" she said harshly

You looked at her a bit confused. And she realized how dryly it must have sounded. In one moment she felt bad about it. She wasn't used to being nice or to care, so it's quite hard. But she wanted to take care of you. And so she composed herself and trying to give you the best and the most genuine of her smiled said

"No, darling. You just stay here and don't move. You're such a good girl that I want to give you one more reward for it"

Venable went down on you. She made you cum again, though that time with her tongue. You may have thought it's great earlier, but having her tongue inside you was even better

"Oh my god... M-miss Venable... I'm... I'm gonna..."

She gestured her hand giving you the permission to cum and so you did. Wilhemina licked you clean and moved back laying right next to you.

"I..." You began, but she cut you off pressing her lips to yours

"You don't need to do or say anything" she said

"B-but..." You hesitated "Can I hug you? I mean it's okay if you say no, though it could be nice too, since you don't want me to..." you gestured instead of using words, which Mina found adorable

The older woman was hesitant, but looking into your pleading eyes she couldn't say no. There's something about you that made her feel different.

"Y/N..." she started in a serious tone

"Okay. You don't need to explain... I get it" you wanted to get up, but she stopped you and pulled you closer "I'd like that" she said and kissed you

You gave into the kiss. The feeling of her lips against yours was the best thing in the whole world. You didn't want the night to end, but you're tired. It's quite eventful night after all.

"You can sleep, Y/N" Wilhemina said stroking your hair

You smile burying your face in the crook of her neck "I love you" you said closing your eyes.

Mina looked at you. Your face was so peaceful when you're asleep.

She couldn't quite believe what you said, but there's something inside her. A weird feeling in her body. Her chest felt so heavy, but it was a nice feeling.

"I love you too, princess" she said knowing that you couldn't hear her

@cakexblankett

@cordwliagoode

@misssmephisto

#wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable #AHS #ahs imagine #ahs apocalypse #dangerous woman #part 2

[happys-crazy-queen22]

Protective Family

(Gif Credit @tuagifs) 

This is my first Umbrella Academy Imagine and I hope you all enjoy it because I had so much fun writing it. 

Warning- Semi-smut, sexual biting, spanking, I think that’s about it, Klaus being Klaus. 

Happy reading Dollies.

The sun was shining threw the window as you rolled over to your side to get more comfortable but it wasn't working.  The baby was kicking up a storm and right now he or she was dancing on your ribcage. You were about seven months pregnant and you were miserable when it came to sleeping. Turning over you saw Diego was still asleep, he looked so peaceful. There was a stream of drool coming from his mouth that made you scream 'so adorable' inside.  You leaned over to kiss him but he frantically popped up, scaring you and him. "Are you okay"? He asked worried, rubbing your bare belly. "Yes I'm fine, just restless the baby is just kicking a lot". You reassured him. He laid back down beside you with a quiet sigh, still rubbing your growing belly. You ran your hand down Diego's bare chest, stopping at his waist band. Smirking at him, you sat up, crossing your legs as you turned to him. You pointed at him with you index finger telling him to come. He got up on his knees facing you, you started kissing his collarbone, leaving little bite marks and licks to his chest and scratches on his back as your hands traveled down his back to his boxers. Cupping his butt.

You stopped as you looked at the opened door. Looking at Diego you nudged him. "Every ones asleep, keep going". He moaned as you bit his pierced nipple between your teeth pulling at the ring, he threw his head back and moaned. Taking your tongue from his nipple you ran it down his chest, you stopped at his happy trail and pulled at his boxers with your teeth, giggling. Your hands grasped his butt, kneeing  it like you were making bread. Diego's hands cupped your breasts, you moaned at the contact. One of your hands traveled to his thigh giving a tight squeeze. He had such great thighs. They drove you wild and he took every chance he got to show them off in his tight leather pants. You both were so caught up in the moment of moans and sloppy kisses, you didn't hear Klaus walk by, the floor boards squeaking as he got closer. Klaus stopped at the doorway of his brothers room and peeked at the sight he was seeing or what he thought he saw, his brother getting a blowjob from his pregnant girlfriend.

"Oh god"  He covered his mouth. "That's not good for the baby, Diego". Klaus scorned, stomping his foot, his grossed out voice made you giggle on Diego's stomach, Diego groan removing his hands from your chest quickly pulling your bra over your breast so Klaus couldn't see anything that was his.

"Go away Klaus, we aren't doing anything". Diego turning his head to Klaus who was covering his eyes but he still could see through his fingers.

"It looks like you are doing something that the door should be closed for"?

"Look, we've done it with the door open before and we don't care anyways so go away" Diego yelled, throwing a pillow at Klaus. You sat there in a giggle fit. You were laughing so hard you peed a little. The mood was over and you were done.

"Y/N, how could you do that to my niece or nephew"? Klaus began to faint dramatically. Diego groaned fixing him self in his boxers as he got off the bed and went to check on Klaus who was laying on the floor, his hand on his forehead. "You're a idiot" Diego smacked Klaus's cheek playfully.

"Klaus, I was just kissing his chest that's all". You tried getting up but you were stuck on the bed as you tried maneuvering around making sure your belly was not getting squashed. You had finally gotten up and was out of bed, you hated Diego's childhood bed. It was to small and Klaus and him jumped on it so much that there was a big dip in the middle. 

"You look like you were going to town on him". "Boner town and Diego's the mayor". Klaus laughed as he was rolling on the floor trying to get away from Diego as Diego was trying to hit him for his last comments.

"Well I wasn't, so chill you guys". You said pulling Diego away so Klaus could run for it.

"Come here, Baby" You grabbed Diego, wrapping your arms around him, kissing his neck. His hands went to your butt giving it a squeeze that made you squeal.  He chuckled, kissing your lips.

"Let's go get breakfast before Klaus spreads rumors that we're having open door sex and scaring our baby forever. You laughed, walking back into the bedroom to get dressed. Diego smacked your butt as he followed.

Walking hand in hand into the kitchen. All eyes were on the two of you. The siblings were in a secret chatting session as you came to the table that abruptly ended and haulted to silence.

"Good morning, everyone". You looked at Diego oddly when you went to get him some orange juice and he sat at the table. He shrugged his shoulders and sat down beside Luther.

"You filthy man, how could you"? Luther smacked Diego up side the back of the head. "What the hell was that for"? Diego reacted fast. You stopped what you were doing and rushed over. "Klaus told us what you were doing". "You could've hurt the baby". Luther and Allison both were yelling at Diego. You felt your cheeks grow hot, oh my god what have you done, you asked yourself. "We weren't doing anything". Diego protested, defending you to his siblings.

"Guys, guys, guys"! You yelled over the co motion. They all stopped and looked at you.

"I was the one that started it so if you're blaming someone blame me".

"I understand the urges, the hormones going on when you're pregnant"."Completely understand".  Allison replied with a wink.

Everyone scrunched up their faces with disgust except Diego he had a big smirk on his face. He liked when you got all hormonal on him, you got so turned on when he would come home from a 'job' and was all sweaty from beating the bad guys up, the smell of him got you all worked up, the taste of him made you go mad with lust and he loved every bit of it. He knew you liked when he played with his knives around you, you would just attack him right there, no matter where it was if you wanted him you had him in anyway you wanted. As long as he could make you feel good he would do anything for you.

"Easy now, it's natural". "You'll all understand one day and believe me you'll love it when it happens". Diego said grinning, planting a kiss to you temple. Everyone looked at you two some with grossed out faces and some with loving faces.

"Klaus, I think you need to tell everyone you're sorry for getting everyone worked up over nothing". You reasoned with him before someone jumped on him, Diego being your concern.

"Okay, I'm sorry but I was worried about my niece or nephew being subjected to their future siblings against their will". Klaus protected, which was a very frightening way to go about doing so.

“That took a very unexpected turn for the worst”. You mumbled to yourself. 

"That's disgusting and very disturbing". Ben and Five both said together but we could only hear Five. Klaus growled to his left to where Ben was standing but you looked there was no one there.

"You're very, wow, I have no words,  but I understand your concerns all of you but you don't have to be. I have checked with the doctor and they say sex is okay when pregnant and if I was going to do that of which you thought you saw I would not swallow, got it"? You looked Klaus in the eyes making sure he understood you very clearly. He nodded.

"Okay, good". "Now lets fix breakfast, I'm starving". You said with a smile, rubbing your hands together.

Everyone grabbed their stomachs. "I've lost my appetite". "I think I'm going to be sick, thanks Klaus". They all rambled off rushing out of the kitchen leaving Diego, Klaus and you standing there in a laughing fit.

"You're siblings are something else you know that,especially that one" you said pointing to Klaus standing behind you drinking his orange juice like nothing happened.

"Yeah I know, hey I warned you about that one, I wished I would have listened and should have closed the door and none of this would have happened". "I'm sorry". Diego chuckled leaning on you with his arm around your waist.

"They were all concerned about the baby but yeah you should have". "I'm always right".  You rubbed his chest, he gave you a seductive look. Both of you carefully sprinted off to the bedroom in a hurry. Diego's clothes started coming off in the kitchen.

"Close the door this time, please" Klaus's voice echoed through the kitchen and hallway until he heard the door slam to the bedroom. "Thank you". He said with a smile going back to sipping on his orange juice.

#tua imagines #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves imagines smut #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagines #Diego hargreeves smut #umbrella academy #umbrella academy smut #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves imagines #happys-crazy-queen22

[for-bucks-sake]

Underwater.

Pairing: Stucky x Reader Word Count: 4.5K. I know, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Warnings: Angst, Endgame Spoilers, general sadness? Characters death. That’s it probably. Summary: For the past five years, Y/n has been holding her breath.  A/N: Idk man, I want to thank everyone who read Missing Is a Recurring Theme. I was overwhelmed by the comments so just,,thank you! Currently working on part two (get ready for fluff!) But for now, this was requested by the lovely @fandomnerdxox. Hope you love angst, because that’s what this fic is all about. Hope you like it! 

Her lungs were filled with dust. She could tell. Unable to expend them enough to take a breath, ribcage staying painfully small. “Bucky?” She called, maybe yelled. Nothing was clear anymore. Not even the air.

The fighting stopped all at once, there was a shift in the atmosphere, like the universe itself sensed something has gone terribly wrong. She stopped running when a Wakandan soldier reached for her, hurt, looking distressed as he tried to come closer, his back bent.

She swallowed, the urged to find her partners almost overpowering her instincts to help the man. She took his hand nevertheless, holding it tight in hers and pulling him up. She glanced to the sides, forever searching with her eyes familiar figures, when she felt the man slipping from her touch; “Are you oka-“ y/n looked back just in time to witness him disintegrating in front of her eyes, warm human flash crumbling in her grip, nothing left but dirt.  

She gasped, nearly falling back. Her eyes widened in panic as she finally started to notice more and more people dissolving into thin air.

Y/n ran. “Steve!” Knowing it’s too late. But she ran. “Bucky!” The field was too big to cover on foot. But she ran.

There was a long leg clothed in navy blue uniforms, scattering into invisible particles. Wind spreading them all over two silver, Vibrenium made shields, That’s when she stopped.

“No.” She choked, vision clouded, not even registering the chaos she walked right into.

A single, large, sniper rifle abandoned on the grass, inches away from where the leg was no longer. “No.”

It can’t be. It can’t. Not them, it can’t be them.

She collapsed to the ground, the weight of her injuries finally hitting her fully;

“I can’t breathe.” She panted, holding her sore throat desperately, starving for oxygen,“I can’t breathe.”

-

Loneliness is a funny thing. You could be lonely for years, decades, even. And never once notice it. You could live content with what you have, not even wondering about what you might miss. That’s when life tricks you. It lures you into tasting it, like a pinch of salt you bake inside a cake, bringing the sweetness out. Life places it on your tongue, melting it away into your bloodstream, changing you forever so you will never be the same. And then, they wait.

Wait in the shadows, until they think you’re too used to it, until they decide you don’t deserve it anymore. So they take it. Snatch it from between your fingers with brutal force, leaving you alone, bare, unworthy.

Funny may not be the accurate word, no. But all the other words she thought of to describe her situation were too tragic. So she sticks with funny.

-

Nat asked her to move back to compound today.

Y/n said no, of course. Not even remotely considering this as an option, furious at Natasha that she did. It got heated quickly, on her part, mostly.

She was alone all her life. Both of them were before the universe was vicious enough to give a meager taste to the starved.  She thought maybe Nat, could understand.

Y/n didn’t want to move in. Waking up to the sound of Natasha trying to save a world that already lost. Listening to her secretly wiping about what Clint has become. She didn’t want to do that. Y/n had enough shit to deal with on her own.

She finally reached her front door, fumbling with her keys, groaning as the jingling continued because she couldn’t find the right one, hands still shaking from anger.

“Did you know how quickly smell fades away?” Nat’s hair was longer, red color vibrant than ever. It suited her.

“I’m sorry?” Confusion replaced Natasha’s fading smile,

“Smell.” Y/n stressed, “of people, I mean. When they’re not here to renew it, it just disappears. Dissolves into the air, like it was never there.” She refused to sit, not once stopping to chip on her nails.

“Are you okay? Y/n, I’m starting to w-“

“Especially with clothes.” She frowned, burring her hands inside the pocket of her oversized leather jacket, changing her mind right after, bringing right hand fingers to her lips instead,  “you know, I tried keeping their clothes in the closet, I thought maybe, it will help preserve the smell. But it was all bullshit. Turns out I just missed about a year of their scents. When I opened it, it was barely there.”

Natasha remained silent, too alarmed to speak. Y/n accepted it as an invitation to continue her ramble.

“I was so angry, you won’t believe.” She laughed bitterly, “At myself of course, like, I could’ve googled it or something, but I didn’t. So I don’t have much to go with now.” Y/n continued, either going through an aneurism, a fit, or finally losing her mind all together, doing so hysterically right in front of Nat.

Natasha left her chair, walking towards y/n as carefully as she would approach a wounded predator.

“Listen to me, it’s going to be fine.” She cringed at her own words, feeling terrible at making people feel better. Steve was great at it, he always knew what to say and when to say it. Surly if he returned to give an advice, it would’ve calmed down his grieving girlfriend.

Natasha was relieved to be her only audience, if anyone else was seeing her state she would get a fast pass to a psych ward. Nat knew she wasn’t crazy, just…hurting.

“Yeah. yeah,” y/n dismissed her, swinging her hand, “anyway, that’s my way of telling you I can’t move here.” She finally sat down, leaving Natasha facing the wall. She turned around.

“Why not?” She said carefully, crossing her arms, “the thought of you all alone is- .”

“I don’t mind being alone.” Y/n cut sharply the kind words directed to her,

“do you?”

She finally managed to find the right one, shoving the key to its lock and twisting. She pushed the door with her shoulder, dropping her small bag to the floor.

Five years had gone and she still wasn’t used to the unnatural silence.

The blinds were shut, the air didn’t move, and for a second she could believe that time actually stopped.

Y/n inhaled deeply, standing still in the middle of the room, not daring to make a sound - maybe time did stop. She jumped when a car honked outside. A loud, ear cutting sound that tore her ruthlessly from her bubble.

She blinked, as if waking up from a deep slumber, realizing her precious reality was nothing but a dream.

That’s how she felt everyday, if she was being honest. Sometimes their touch felt more like a delusion than a memory. Sometimes, metal hand and starred chest turning into dust were just a horrifying nightmare. Sometimes, two purple, ugly fingers snap themselves together was just a fucked up hallucination. Sometimes, the existence of two, perfect men, reciprocating the strong, burning love she felt was just too hard to believe.

Nothing was real anymore.

Y/n walked into the bedroom, grabbing the white bottle of aspirin from her bedside table and swallowing down two. It was an exhausting day.

Her head met the sagging pillow with a soft thud, unlike most days, sleep came quickly, and with a flutter of her eyelashes, she was already gone.

He was so handsome with that beard. It was really impacting her ability to focus.

“Hi, ms. Astronaut!” Steve called her, golden fragments of light dancing in his eyes, “your pretty dreamy looks won’t help you on the battlefield.”

“Really? So you’re just that good at punching people?” She smirked, adjusting the straps of her sports bra, “no staring at your enemies with those baby blues until they beg for mercy?”

He caught her off guard, using her shoulder to hoist himself up and tackle her ankles from the back. She hit the soft padding embarrassingly easily, Steve not even giving her the time to react.

He offered a strong hand, swinging her off the ground like she weighs nothing when she took it. He smiled at her, eyes a brilliant cerulean- “ready to beg for mercy yet?”

Y/n huffed and hit his shoulder, “not a chance.” She paused, tightening her ponytail, returning to starting position, “now explain to me how to block it.”

Suddenly, her scenario dusted away in a disgusting black ash, swirling around her body, ruthlessly throwing her into a field.

She started running. She didn’t know where she ran, but it felt like she’s been there before; sounds and smells familiar, recognizing the path to god-knows-where as her legs kept carrying her.

A more clear image started to form, the sky bore lightning but it was warm outside, faceless monsters with sharp teeth and slick skin tried to attack her but only went through. Y/n was starting to realize where she was; it was their last fight against Thanos, and she got another chance.

Running was a part of her by now. Unable to stop or slow down, one mission in mind. Looking for a reflection of the sun on metal, or just the eyes of two bearded men before they disappear for good.

She heard them calling for her, loud and clear, two voices she hasn’t encountered for a long time, yet will never be able to forget.

“Bucky?” She screamed, this time she has to find them, she has to, “Steve? Where are you? Steve, Bucky!”

The tears woke her up, cheeks stained and breaths that were no longer under her control, hasty gasps that choke her up instead of supplying oxygen.

She was so close this time.

Her body shook violently, trembling with fear and drenched in cold sweat. The headache she had when she fell asleep was worse now, an echoing sting compressing her brain every time her heart beat.

It wasn’t just her failed attempt to say goodbye. She dreamed this every other night, and every single time she finds herself inside an unknown territory, not knowing what she needs to do until the very last minute, when she fails miserably, only to awaken to the voices of her loved ones, calling her to come save them.

No, it wasn’t just that. Because this time- this time she had a good dream too.

They used to spar all the time together, it was a good energy outlet and an excuse to spend more time with each other. She had a lot to learn from two super soldiers, and to her surprise, she taught them some moves too.

Y/n remembered that day, Steve and she were having an early morning while Bucky was still soundly sleeping, so they decided not to wake him, leaving an orange sticky note on his metal arm that said, gone to kick steve’s ass, be back by 9:00. love you.

Steve drove them to the compound, crisp breeze hitting her freshly opened eyes as she clutched his firm chest tighter, leaning her body weight on his.

He asked if she was okay, loud noise of the engine and the wind free whistles in her ears, maybe he thought he drove too fast.

She nodded, smiling in reassurance when they bypassed traffic, Steve maniacally dodging cars and driving in between the small spaces vehicles leave. He was crazy. But he managed to bring them to the compound in under twenty minutes, which was a new record.

They entered the gym, Steve’s hand still on her lower back as they stopped walking, taking off their jackets, staying only in training clothes.

“I really like that jacket.” She said, feeling the worn leather of the large brown cloth under her fingertips.

“I know.” He smiled and bit his lips, taking her hand and guiding her to the large ring.

They took their positions, adjusting their stances, “Last night I remembered some old fight moves I didn’t use in a long time.” Steve scratched his beard then stretched his shoulders, “maybe we could start with them?”

She remembers nodding, not registering exactly what he said because she got distracted, thinking about his beard and his eyes and everything else.

It was a good day. Peaceful day. A day she would give anything to experience just once more.

Her eyes were tired, begging for an actual rest as she got up, still in her clothes from yesterday, blindly walking to the kitchen and hitting some buttons on the coffee machine- it was too old now. Needed to be replaced.

Nothing has really changed, since half of the world disappeared, since Steve and Bucky disappeared. She set next to the kitchen table, filling only one of four chairs, like every other day, holding the same bitter, black coffee in the same chipped mug.

Even killing Thanos didn’t mean anything, and she wasn’t even there. Too struck with grief to see the last light behind this monster’s eyes before they darkened forever.

Y/n felt like the world ceased to move, like maybe, in a way, they were caught in a lop, and time did stop.

-

“I’m sorry.” She went to visit Natasha again. Being sad was no excuse to treat her only friend spitefully. She leaned against the lintel, trying to find support, or hide behind it, she didn’t know.

Natasha’s eyes were swollen, eyes still threatening to tear up again any moment.

“It’s okay.” She took a bite from her sandwich, “Clint did it again.”

Y/n thought about yesterday, her own thoughts were so unfair to Nat, who did nothing but help her the past five years, how could she be so selfish, thinking she was the only one in suffering.

“I’m sorry, Nat. I really am.” Y/n approached her, taking the chair that was opposite of her, “did you try looking for him? Clint is a good guy. You know he is. He’s someone who lost everything at once. Something like that gotta mess up with your mind.”

“You’re still here.” Nat said quietly, already regretting it,

Y/n bit the inside of her cheek, reclining against the back of the chair, “If there’s someone in this world that could save him - it’s yo-“

“Hey, Hello, This is Scott Lang. We met a few years ago, at the airport, in Germany, I got really big-“

Both women were startled, slowly getting up from their chairs, looking at the small monitor.

“Is this an old message?” Y/n asked, her eyes burning, she inhaled sharply. Scott Lang is supposed to be missing, he dusted with all the others. And if that really is Scott it means…

-

Scott didn’t disappear because of Thanos’ snap like the others. So it didn’t mean shit. And hope crushed her chest once again, hating herself for letting it invade her thoughts repeatedly, not learning her lesson.

His incoherent ramble about a time machine sure didn’t help. Natasha insisted they would go visit Tony anyway, saying that if he recognized a real chance he would never hesitate to help-

But when she sees Tony with his daughter, her world nearly crumbles for the second time in two days. The odds he would cooperate were now down to zero.

Tony saw them approaching. She watched him letting the kid down, following her with her gaze as she ran all the way to the front door, swallowed by the wooden house.

“I’m happy for you Tony,” y/n heard herself saying, “I really am. But you can help so many people, you can help bring so many people back, and you won’t even…”

“No. I won’t even.” There was a finality in his voice, one that clearly states they are done.

“Steve? You remember Steve? He used to be your friend. Or have you already forgotten him. How easy.” She pierced the air with an ice cold tone , anger consuming her. “You live your happy life, and you got everything. Tony. Everything. What do I got? What do I have?” She heaved, breathless, and he looked like he was going to say something, when his daughter came jumping on his lap, securing her little arms around him in a firm hug, “mom told me to come save you.”

Y/n finally got a good look of the girl. She was sweet looking, a visible brain behind her eyes; And she didn’t know Tony Stark very well, but y/n could tell the kid shared a deep resembles to him. Who wouldn’t do anything for their child? Even if it means letting the other half of the world burn. -

She clearly didn’t know the man at all, because for some reason- Tony Stark came back.

Everything they did seemed to fail, and when Bruce couldn’t figure it out, almost making what’s left of the Avengers babysitters to baby Scott, Tony arrived to the rescue.

“He turned into a baby, didn’t he?” He snarked with a sly grin, revealing a weird looking metal bracelet and a proud attitude that said, I did it.

“Thank you.” Y/n took his hand, squeezing it hard, knowing that as of now, she owes this man her life. “Thank you so much.”

He offered a knowing smile, grief shifting his features, “I know what it’s like to lose someone.” - “See you in a minute.” She heard Nat, giddy with excitement, before all of them were pulled into a colorful vortex, a hurricane rearranging her guts, staying with her even when they landed in an unfamiliar ally in New York.

“Are we in the right place?” She asked Tony and Bruce, changing her white and red, Quantum traveling suit, into a more area fitting one with a single button.

Smashing sounds got closer by the second right after she asked, not long before they saw a much greener Hulk, destroying everything on his path.

“I’m pretty sure this answers my question. “ Y/n said to herself, amused, heart light inside her chest despite the heavy mission ahead of them.

Y/n wore a big SHIELD identification, saying she was incredibly high clearance, it’s supposed to get her what she needs quickly, no questions asked; but when she entered an elevator full of Hydra thugs, testosterone reeking the small space, she assumed there might be some questions.

“Gentlemen.” She said, too ceremonially, “I will need you to hand me the Scepters. Orders from high, I’m afraid.” She felt all of them tense around her,

“And who are you, if I may ask? I have never seen you here.” The bald man who looked less threatening than all of them asked,

Y/n held her ID high, pointing out her clearance level, “not ever seeing me here is a good sign, Mr…”

“Mr. Sitwell.”

“Very well, Mr. Sitwell. Now, if you will, the Scepter. I’m in a bit of a rush. Wouldn’t want to keep people on the higher floors waiting.” Y/n decided to do something bold, the outcome could either be a success, or one that she would have to punch her way out of. She leaned against Sitwell, bringing her mouth closer to his ear and whispered,  

“Hail Hydra.”

The man looked apprehensive at first, debating with himself for a long moment, until finally nodding to one of the other men, handing her the long suitcase reluctantly.

Y/n gladly accepted it , the elevator finally opening up as she turned her back to them, smirking in satisfaction, going towards the exit.

Her legs stopped in their tracks. She wasn’t supposed to see him. Not now, not like this.

Steve, wearing a very cheesy and outdated Captain America suit approached her, holding his earpiece, and before she could even registered what was going on, she heard him say he has eyes on Loki. Fucking Fantastic.

It wasn’t her Steve, she knew, but it was harder to accept than say, because as it seemed she is going to have to fight him, and she wasn’t ready.

In the months before the mission Natasha got her back into a very strict schedule of training, trying to beat her into shape again. It couldn’t repair years of damage and neglect, but it was better than anything. And as past Steve swung his shield to her direction, y/n held onto every bit of shape she head.

It wasn’t her Steve, her mind screamed as she dodged his punch, fighting the desire to take off his mask and kiss him.

He hasn’t met her yet, of course he won’t recognize her.  

“Hand back the Scepter, Loki.” He demanded, she was suddenly happy she couldn’t see his eyes.

Steve tried to use her shoulder to hoist himself up, but y/n hunched over, waiting for him to miss his jump, and placed two hands securely on his broad shoulders, lifting herself and using his support to flip over, forcing him down along with her, wrapping her body around his, trying to chock him long enough for him to lose consciousness.

“I can’t do that. “She panted, struggling to keep him in a tight enough grip, “and I am not Loki.”

Steve fought out of her hold, twisting his thighs around hers and kicking her kneecaps, rattling her entire body as they changed positions, now she was the one being strangled. She arced her back, hitting him in full force with it, but he didn’t budge. Not even when she jerked one ankle, jolting him right in the junk. She’ll apologize later.

Y/n couldn’t beat him in a hand to hand combat, poorly shaped and outmatched by him. Distraction was her only possible advantage, and she was running out of time, options, and air. What could baffle 2012 Steve Rogers? She thought frantically, just as the answer presented itself to her.

What would faze 2012 Steve Rogers? The same thing that would faze 2019 Steve Rogers, or any Steve Rogers for that matter.

“Bucky, is , alive.” She coughed out, and it was enough; the lock on her throat was released, giving her an opportunity to take the Scepter and run. She took it out of its case, pointing it at Steve general direction just as he gained composer again, hovering above her. She caught a glimpse of blue, cold and painful to watch without the warm undertones that appeared every time he looked at her.

“Sorry.” She squeaked as he dropped to the floor, head planted down. Only falling asleep, she hoped.

- The minute she saw Clint collapsing, an empty space to her left, she knew Natasha was not coming back.

They didn’t know exactly what happened, and it didn’t matter. Because everything else was clear. She gave her life to get that stone, to get everyone back. That only meant one thing; They could not fail.

- As time went by, y/n thought less and less about what would happen if they came back. There was no point to lead herself on, right? So she didn’t.

But now, as the possibility of them returning appeared more vivid, worry began to chew on her confidence.  Insecurity seemed the last thing she needed right now, so insignificant, superficial, in times like this, when the faith of the world was at stake. Yet, she was staring at the mirror, for the first time in five years, really looking. Examining carefully, with attention, how her body has changed. She didn’t like what she saw.

It’s not about you, she had to remind herself, it’s about them.

“Also", a very familiar voice, challenging her with the cheek in her tone; Nat. “Give those two dumbasses more credit, they will love you, no matter what.”

-

It was only them, and they were losing.

They managed the snap, and it almost cost Bruce’s life in the process. Nothing in the world seemed to scream about drastic changes so far, and then Thanos decided to pay a visit, depriving them of finding out if everything they have gone through was for nothing.

Slowly but surely, they were losing. Being wrecked by the purple alien that already destroyed once their lives as they knew and loved.

It wasn’t fair, Stark was the last one standing. She watched him from where she landed, after being brutally thrown. He could never face him by himself, he wouldn’t survive long enough. She remembered that day, it seemed like thousand years ago now; when she swore, she owed her life to that man.

No superpowers, no special suit, no weapon. Just her, and her fists. That’s all she had to offer. She owed it to too many people to not just surrender and die, leaving a world to burn behind her. She owed it to herself.

Y/n gritted her teeth and spit blood to the side, standing side by side with Iron Man, bringing two fists to the front of her body and fixing her stance.

She inhaled deeply and glanced at Stark, he nodded, letting her know he’s ready when she is.

“Y/n?” She heard her name, somehow loud, in her earpiece. Tony looked confused just as her, he heard it too, and it wasn’t him talking.

“Doll, it’s Steve. Do you copy?”

Her breath was knocked off her lungs, she searched around her for any sign of him, of Bucky, of anyone, when an orange portal was opened behind her. And then another one, and another one, and another ten.

“Holy shit.” Tony called from beside her, laughing, somehow, “holy fucking shit.”

Y/n was at a loss of words.

“Go.” He opened his helmet, motioning her to the sea of warriors behind them - he wasn’t standing alone anymore - “go!”

She shook her head, not moving an inch. “I’m staying right here.”

-

It was her dream again. Her eyes scanned the crowds, running amok between injured people, bodies. Vision too blurry and burning to see any face at all.

“Y/n!.” A deep voice called in her direction, and she nearly twisted her neck attempting to find its source.

Her eyes teared up instantly, knees threatening to buckle underneath her, a metal arm coming just in time to hold onto her, support her in place. Wiping tears was useless, she found out soon enough, giving up instantly to simply sobbing into Bucky’s shoulder.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.” She kept crying out, he had a long cut on the side of his torso, he shushed her gently when she tried to bring it up.

There was a subtle movement behind her, and she tensed, head shooting up, “Steve?”

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” He said softly, another pair of strong arm enfolding themselves around her, his eyes radiated warmth, bright in the middle of a dirt stained face. She took one last look before burying her body deeper between them, surrounding herself with a scent that was a mix of salt and earth and blood, so humanly them.

“You were gone and I-“ Y/n kept glancing every other second at Bucky- even though she was still in his arms, hysteria got the best of her, gradually taking over any rationale left- the fear they’ll disappear, like last time, becomes too real.

“I didn’t say goodbye and-“ She gasped for air, they caressed her, talking sweet nothings in her ears, just to calm her down.

“It’s been five years and I…I couldn’t live without you.” She said finally, physically struggling to speak, clutching onto them harder,

“We’re so sorry.” Bucky muttered, choking down on tears of his own, weaving fingers through her knotted hair, “So fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Steve reassured her one more time, kissing her temple, then her knuckles, then her lips. “we’re here now.”

#stucky x reader #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #captain america #the winter soldier #steve rogers x reader #bucky barns x reader #stucky #avengers endgame #avengers endgame spoilers #i write

[behld]

@auspicium.      "agony repeated so many times is a different kind of suffering."      gotta love a good statement that can be taken to reference Either Of Them! oliver is nothing if not homoerotic and vague... mayb Hospital Room But This Time No One Bursts In?

six months of dreaming and six months of beholding and six months of the neverending watching of other peoples’ worst terrors,      and all he can think when he wakes up is i thought this would be worse.      the waking.      in everything he knows about comas,      it should not be nearly this easy to sit up,      to run his hands through his hair despite the iv and the heartbeat monitor that’s suddenly started up after six months of silence.

on the other hand:      there’s not much could be worse than the nightmares.      after a normal night of sleep,      dreams do not seem to take the entire two-six-eight hours you are sleeping;      their edges blur and condense and slot nicely into the five minutes before waking,      just fresh enough to be remembered but not to stick throughout the day,      mostly.      a splash of water onto a face and they’re gone.      the eye’s are of a different sort.      they aren’t dreams,      after all:      they’re real,      some part of him truly wandering through those landscapes and gazed down upon by the unblinking sky,      some part of him soaking in all of that fear and all of that terror until the victims wake and he remains,      remains for six months,      remains forever if not for       —

well,      if not for oliver.      seems only right that a statement should wake him up.      he’s not sure how to be grateful yet,      not sure how to form the words to thank,      but it doesn’t look like oliver’s looking for that.      after all:      oliver dreams too.      (      or does he still?      antonio’s statement was so long ago,      and jon’s never seen his face in these nightmares.      )

‘      i,      uh      —      yes,      it      ...      it is.      ’            jon’s voice is hoarse,      though not as hoarse as it should be after so many months.      a half-year of his life.      god.      he wonders if oliver knows about the nightmares,      or if he’s still speaking of his own experiences only.      if this is still a statement.      no:      jon wouldn’t be able to interrupt a statement so freely,      or wouldn’t feel the need to,      would be devouring every word with no room for his own speech.      if it’s a statement,      it is joint.      a duet.      isn’t that poetic?

‘      i’m      ...      i’m not sure if i could have endured much more of it.      ’            there is a thank you embedded somewhere in the syllables.      balanced on that precipice between eye and end:      die a human or live      ...      something else.      a monster?      an avatar?      is there a difference between the two,      really;      is he bound to become something like nikola or michael or prentiss,      did all of them make this same choice?      oliver is sitting across from him,      on the stiff hospital chairs that jon knows,      automatically,      are the most uncomfortable thing to ever grace the earth,      near worthy of being a torture device in their own right.      oliver,      surely,      is no monster.      he looks      ...      like a person.      does jon,      still?      he’s of half a mind to rush to the nearest mirror and see      —      has he sprouted extra eyes everywhere,      has he shifted nearly imperceptibly,      or would it be the same face staring back at him?

(      is it worse if this change,      whatever form it takes,      is echoed somewhere concrete,      or if everything different lies invisibly within him?      )

‘      i      ...      don’t mean to put the onus of all answers on your shoulders,      but      —      you’re the only one here,      and i.      there isn’t exactly a,      a wealth of information on these subjects,      nothing google or a trip to the library would give      —      ’            less than an hour out of a coma and he’s already started rambling.      maybe it’s to cover up just how many questions he has.      (      could oliver tell him who among his companions had died in the unknowing?      avatar of the end,      and all?      )            ‘      —      what happens now?      i mean      —      i,      i made a choice,      i know,      but      ...      what then?      ’            

the one good thing about the nightmares,      he thinks,      was always knowing what the future would hold.      more horrors,      marching one after the other.      he would like to think the waking world is not so simple:      and that is as much a relief as it is terrifying.

#auspicium #‘ & an expression of love: to see our monsters for what they are ▬▬ [ in . ] #‘ & outside i make up god again‚ your eyes the only eyes ▬▬ [ v. four . ] #‘ & i lidded my eyes with pennies each night & saw the question haloed above ▬▬ [ answer . ] #DGFKJNGDF GOD THIS GOT SO LONG IM SO SORRY #hi my names rosemary im physically incapable of writing anything short ever

[cdyssey]

Hadestown (7/14/19), Act I

Act II

This is largely just me rambling about how much I love Hadestown and how beautiful it was to see live, but I’m going to be heavy on spoilers, so please don’t read this if you want to go in blind!!!

*An overlay pic I did in, like, three seconds on my phone, lol.

Hadestown, a sweeping thesis statement: It was the most beautiful musical I’ve seen in my life, and it touched me profoundly.

Hadestown, a hieroglyphic summary of me during the entire show: 😭😭😭😭😭😭 (I’m srs. I was in tears every three minutes. I cried during the standing ovation.)

Hadestown, Act One:

“Road to Hell” —

What an opening number. My gods—so vivacious and vital and joyfully, deliriously alive.

The first noises you hear in the moments before “Road to Hell” are the sharp clacks of André’s shoes as he makes his way across the stage. Even in a handful of silent seconds, he makes his presence known. Right before he starts the song, he unbuttons his coat and shows his sparkly vest off. I love him???????

Like, I adore how he so perfectly inhabits the role of an omniscient, omnipresent narrator. He’s literally a god walking among men, and that’s such a beautiful take on Hermes.

The stage for “Road to Hell” is set up to be a kind of bar where Orpheus works as a busboy! Orpheus sweeps around cleaning off tables, and Eurydice (Jessie Shelton!!) comes in seeking shelter from the cold. When Hermes announces that it’s the beginning of Orpheus and Eurydice’s tale, they come face to face for the first time and simply stare at each other.

Also, you know how Hermes takes extra care to mention that Orpheus’s mother was a Muse and a friend of his?? I think that tidbit helps set up the friendly, mentor-like relationship Hermes and Orpheus have throughout the musical!!

“Any Way the Wind Blows” —

Okay, this is where I desperately wish that the entire OBC was out because I only remember a couple of things from this song, and that makes me sad. ;-;

But what I can tell y’all is that Jessie Shelton is a brilliant, nuanced Eurydice. Her youth and her scrappiness shine through; her hunger—for sustenance, for hope, for a better life—evidences itself in every note she sings!!

AND THE FATES. MY GODS, THE FATES. I LOVE THEM. Kay, Jewelle, and Yvette imbue them with such chaotic evil energy™. They’re quite sinister throughout the musical, tempting and teasing whomever they’re stalking in turns. I’d literally die for all of them!!

But anyway, in this song, Eurydice lights a candle to protect herself from the cold, and the Fates constantly lurk over her shoulder, pretty much dogging her. It’s here you begin to realize what weight Eurydice has on her shoulders. She knows what’s behind her back. She knows who’s trying to steal her light.

OH, OH, and up to around “Epic I,” keep an eye on Hades and Persephone in the balcony!! They’re playing dominoes together.

“Come Home With Me” —

ASFVDS. The intro to this one is so funny. Hermes tries to play wingman for Orpheus and advises him to be chill and not come on too strong. Immediately afterwards, Orpheus is, like, COME HOME WITH ME. MARRY ME.

(Reeve Carney is a national treasure and should b protected.)

But basically, this song is Orpheus’s proposal song!! Eurydice is skeptical, but she increasingly and incrementally warms up to him.

“Wedding Song” —

OOH, this one’s a jam!! It sounds like something str8 off of a country album.

A lot of it is Eurydice warming up to the idea of marrying Orpheus. She’s obviously at war with what she knows and what she wants—the world she dreams about and the world she lives in.

Sometime during the song, Orpheus sings the “la, la, la” melody to her and inexplicably procures a flower for her. So awed by it and him and the magic they create together with their love, Eurydice melts.

Also, holy heck!!! The staging is really amazing for this one. At some point, Orpheus walks on a bridge of tables to Eurydice. He finishes one table, and one of the company members moves another so that it’s right in front of him.

“Epic I” —

Just so y’all know, every time an “Epic” is sung, I just full on start crying. 😭

“Epic I” starts with Orpheus trying to figure out where the “la, la, la” melody came from, and Hermes tells him it used to be sung by Persephone and Hades. He urges our boy to recall their love story through song.

As he sings, attention is drawn to the balcony for the first time since “Road to Hell” as the gods react to their story being sung. Hades is largely uninterested, but Persephone leans over the balcony to listen to Orpheus, obviously moved.

“Livin’ It Up On Top” —

Is this a good time 2 declare my undying love for Amber Gray and everything she stands for?????????

BECAUSE GODS, SHE’S AMAZING. I saw her in Great Comet as Hélène, and even then, I was impressed by the nuance she brought to what could have been a one-note character in the wrong hands, but her Persephone?????????? Brilliant. Flawless. The love of my life. I’m forever a stan. With her loose (but graceful) limbs and brightly lit eyes, she makes sure you know that Persephone is one hell of a character without even singing so much as a word, but when she does sing?? The power and liveliness in her voice echoes all over Walter Kerr.

Amber 👏 Gray 👏 is 👏 a 👏 powerhouse.

OKAY, back to the song!! This might be a little before it starts or right as it begins, but before she leaves the balcony to usher in spring, she kisses Hades on the cheek. He doesn’t really react, and that broke my heart.

(ALSO, BASELESS CONJECTURE, but you know how Hermes mentions that Persephone is always late?? I’ve always wondered if that’s her parallel to Hades being early. Even though their relationship has stagnated, she doesn’t want to leave him. 😭😭😭😭)

Like “Road to Hell,” this song’s just full of life and fun. Persephone plays around with Eurydice and Orpheus a lot, and it’s honestly the first time we see Eurydice loosen up and let herself be happy.

“All I’ve Ever Known” —

Eurydice and Orpheus make me emo. ;-;

At some point, when she’s singing that all she’s ever known is how to hold her own, Orpheus reaches out for her. She flinches at first, but a couple of verses later, reaches out to him.

When Orpheus sings “I’m gonna hold you forever,” he hugs her from behind and crushes her tightly to his chest, and the relief on her face was just palpable. Oh, my godssssss.

All the while, Persephone is watching them, obviously in love with their love, and Hades is reading a newspaper on the balcony!

“Way Down Hadestown” —

LEGIT ONE OF MY FAVES. GOD, THE LYRICS, THE ENERGY, AND THE ACTING WAS AMAZING.

“Better go get your suitcase packed! Guess it’s time to go!” The Fates sing this mockingly at Persephone, and shortly after this, she slowly bends over in despair, her face hidden, her arms limp.

BUT THEN, and this almost made me SCREAM, she begins to tap her feet to the music EVEN AS SHE’S STILL BENT OVER. ASFCDSS. I love Amber Gray. It’s almost like, depressed though she may be, she can’t help but dance to the rhythm. She does this right up until her next verse.

Throughout the first half of the song, Orpheus and Eurydice are just, like, hella enjoying the music together. They’re snuggling and cuddling, and at one point, they’re lying down at the front of the stage spooning as they watch Hermes, Persephone, and co. dance.

In the second half of the song, though, when Hermes starts warning them about the dangers of Hadestown, there’s a subtle shift. Even though the music is still jaunty, he and Persephone and the company are clearly trying to drill it into the lovebirds’ brains that all that glitters isn’t gold. I used to dislike tht those lines were taken from Orpheus, but now I really appreciate the meaning the change conveys.

Hades shows up in his jacket and glasses and gets a big laugh with his “I missed ya” line. (SPOILER ALERT: PATRICK PAGE IS ALSO THE LOML.)

“Seems like he owns everything.” / “Kinda makes you wonder how it feels...” When Eurydice longingly sings this line, Hades lowers his glasses to appraise her, his interest caught. Orpheus, seeing the way he looks at her, jumps in front of Eurydice as though to shield her.

GOD, this song was good.

(OH, and question? Is the accordion a big part of Hades’s musical motif? I noticed that there’s a lot more of it being played whenever he shows up or is being talked about.)

“A Gathering Storm” —

I’ll talk about this more later, but the lighting work is incredible in Hadestown. Like, in this song, for instance, the blues and grays are sharp departures from how brightly lit the stage was when Persephone was down for spring.

This song is where the ideological divide between Eurydice and Orpheus really becomes apparent as Orpheus grapples with the tragedy that spring is gone, while Eurydice just accepts it. It’s just how it is. He runs to finish his song, while Eurydice runs to find them food and shelter. You can see the fear and and hunger and desperation begin to creep upon Eurydice’s face again. Gone now is the girl who laughed and dance during “Livin’ It Up On Top.”

“Epic II / “Chant” —

“Epic II” is Orpheus trying to finish his song as he continues to piece together why winter came so early! I think Eurydice is offstage for this one, presumably scavenging for food while he writes like he’s running out of time.

I don’t remember WHY it’s so awesome, but the transition from “Epic II” to “Chant” is incredible. (@WHOEVER IS RESPONSIBLE - RELEASE THE REST OF THE OBC, PLS.)

ALSO, “CHANT.” GOD. This has always been up there in my top five for its lyrics alone, but the staging is insane. If there’s a song in Hadestown that works like a well-oiled machine made up of so many moving parts, then it’s “Chant.”

When Persephone starts singing about how bright and hot it is, she calls attention to the fact that the lighting upon her is exceptionally, painfully bright. Throughout this entire song, her face is shattered with fear and horror as she looks around and takes in what Hades did to their kingdom. It’s heartwrenching, and I CRIED.

The company is absolutely incredible in every song, but I was especially struck by their movements here. Toiling away, they circled the raised pedestal that Hades and Persephone stood on. At one point, their movements were such that they resembled a gear moving.

And also, these acting choices makes me so damn emo: For “Chant” up to “Epic III,” Hades can’t hardly keep his eyes off of Persephone, both when she’s singing to him or he’s singing to her. However, after she’s done singing to him, she nigh refuses to look at him while he sings to her. Patrick and Amber r the best.

When Orpheus sings his first “la, las” in “Chant,” he’s still trying to write his song. In her conversation with Hermes, Eurydice grows increasingly frustrated, as in, How the hell is a song going to save us? She still has a little hope at this point, but it’s quickly waning. The red carnation in her hair, put there by Persephone in “Livin’ It Up On Top” is the brightest item on the stage. (It especially contrasts well with Eurydice’s monochromatic costume.)

ALSO, Jessie went HARD on Eurydice’s high notes. SHE’S SO GOOD, Y’ALL.

In the middle of “Chant” when Orpheus is still trying to figure out Hades and Persephone’s story, Hermes is trying to warn him about the storm ahead, about Eurydice, but he’s so caught up in what he’s doing, that he can’t hear or see anything beyond his lyre and the lyrics.

Towards the tail end of “Chant,” the Fates steal Eurydice’s backpack and coat, really sealing in the apparent hopelessness of her situation. The way Eurydice hugs her arms against the wind made me want to CRY.

“Hey, Little Songbird” / “When the Chips Are Down” / “Gone, I’m Gone” —

It’s either at the tail end of “Chant” or the beginning of “Songbird,” but Persephone is lowered into the ground through the in-stage elevator (that usually symbolizes the ascent and descent to Hadestown), while Hades remains above ground to croon at Eurydice. The entire time she’s lowered down, she stares angrily at Hades until she’s pulled from sight.

TIME TO TALK ABOUT PATRICK PAGE NOW!!! His voice is so unreal—it’s like a sinkhole, so deep and consuming and churning with gravel. I literally can’t imagine any other person doing what he does in the role of Hades.

“Songbird” largely consists of Eurydice trying her best to resist Hades’s temptation, but faltering as he starts to echo her own thoughts. I think he hits the biggest nerve when he guesses that Orpheus is a penniless poet.

“SONGBIRD VS. RATTLESNAKE.” OMG, I didn’t realize that the Fates are the rattlesnake until seeing this song live and watching them sashay across the stage like one. ASDFVDS, I’m so dumb. Anyway, again, and I cannot stress this enough, but the Fates are incredible. If Hades opened the wound, then the Fates drove in the nail, reemphasizing what Eurydice already half-believes.

“THE FIRST SHALL BE FIRST, AND THE LAST SHALL BE LAST. CAST YOUR EYES TO HEAVEN—YOU GET A KNIFE IN THE BACK.” Omg, first of all, these lines go hard, and secondly, with the knife line, Eurydice acts like she’s been stabbed, and her entire face just contorts with pain.

“Gone, I’m Gone” is incredibly affecting. I don’t know if Eva does this live, but Jessie sounded like she was sobbing as she sung this.

When Eurydice decides to descend to Hadestown, the elevator goes down with her and returns with only her flower. I straight up lost it.

“Wait for Me” / “Why We Build the Wall”—

HELLO, AMERICAN THEATRE WING?? WHERE IS REEVE CARNEY’S TONY AND APOLOGY LETTER???? THANK YOU.

At the beginning of “Wait for Me,” Hermes picks up the carnation and twiddles it in his hand until the line “With all your heart?” Then, he places it on Orpheus’s, well, heart.

God, the lamps swinging through Walter Kerr made me weep. That’s such a beautiful staging choice. Rachel Chavkin, wherever you are, I love you.

“Wait For Me” received an extended applause. It most certainly went on for at least two minutes.

God, I love “Why We Build the Wall.” I could drown Patrick Page’s voice and be happy with that life decision. (On a side note, does the intro of this one remind anyone of Johnny Cash’s “Hurt”????)

This is the first song in which Persephone comes down in her Hadestown garb, a black dress, her hair restrained in a net(?). The difference between the bright green and the black is harrowing. All of the energy just seems to be vacuumed out of her. She, Hermes, and the company sycophantically sing when Hades asks them to.

After the instrumental portion of the song, Eurydice ascends on the elevator, arriving in Hadestown. She almost immediately makes eye contact with Persephone, quite obviously feeling the same shock that I did upon seeing the lively goddess clothed in black. Shock turns to horror as she realizes that this isn’t the rest she’d been hoping for. Persephone looks at her sadly as Hades calls her into the office to sign papers.

And oh, God, this musical absolutely ruined me in the best of possible ways. I’ll type up my thoughts on Act II tomorrow!!!

#hadestown #eurydice #orpheus #persephone #hades #p: hadestown #hadestown spoilers #i'm so emo #i just needed to catalog my thoughts #so i don't forget them

[spaceskam]

Moirai (1/7)

ive had this idea in my head for awhile now, but i was still working out all the kinks on how I would write it. now here it is, hope you enjoy! 

Summary: michael finds a baby. not everyone thinks it’s a good idea.

part one - part two - part three

ao3

Michael felt it.

He didn’t know exactly what it was he was feeling, but he knew it was important and his brain wasn’t giving him any choice but to follow it.  He knew it probably wasn’t a smart idea to separate from Alex and Kyle, but there was a hum inside him that lured him away.  It led him to a locked door that opened to a flight of stars that wasn’t shown on any of the maps that they’d found.

Alex had kept his word to look into Project Shepard and make sure what happened at Caulfield wasn’t happening elsewhere.  He’d only come up with one possible other location, Pitlochry Prison, but it didn’t have nearly as much information on it.  Still, he didn’t want to take any chances, and he packed up Michael and Kyle to go check it out.

Things were still confusing between them.  He’d ended things with Maria the moment Max died, but Alex had still been hurt by it.  Fixing that was slow and painful and for a while all they could discuss was Project Shepard.  Then about five weeks ago, Michael had gotten a little too fucked up and ended up exploding the airstream in a way that even Michael Bay would’ve been jealous of.  He couch hopped for a few nights, but Isobel didn’t let him sleep in and Max made too much noise with Liz.  He’d even attempted to stay with Kyle, but one morning of hearing him bustling around at 4:30 AM was enough before he resigned to sleeping in the bunker with a sleeping bag.  That is until Alex told him to just stay with him.  It was a confusing proposition at first, but Alex had a spare bedroom that was apparently underused and it’d be easier to work with them in the same place anyway.

Michael had stayed with Alex for about a month now and he’d already decided that’s what his life was about, being with Alex Manes.  They both stayed up ridiculously late if they slept at all, they liked the same movies, they understood each other’s science rambles enough to hold a coherent conversation, they picked up after themselves, they are the same food.  But it was waking up to Alex humming in the kitchen over a pan of eggs at noon clad in sweatpants and nothing more as he offered a cup of coffee that had Michael sold.  That’s what he wanted to wake up to forever.

Then, a few nights ago, when Alex had come to them with the prospect of another prison, Michael had had a stronger reaction than he’d anticipated.  He’d overdosed on fear, memories of Caulfield taking over.  Something instinctual happened in Alex‒that’s what it had to be‒and he’d held Michael close while whispering soothing words.  There were two good beds in the cabin, and yet neither of them moved from the couch for hours.  Even when Michael had calmed down and even when they’d both fallen asleep only to wake up the next morning, neither one of them made the decision to move.

So, after 8 hours wrapped up in Alexander Manes and after clearing his mind, Michael kissed him.  He’d expected to be rejected and therefore kept it short.  Sleep was still heavy in them both and that had to be what kept Alex from being Alex and telling him to stop.  Instead, they’d stared for a moment with Alex’s fingers tangled up in his hair before meeting together in a sweet kiss.

They hadn’t really discussed what that meant, but they hadn’t taken it back.  In fact, they’d only moved forward.  Within the last three days, touching and kissing and mindblowing sex had come back to their relationship.  They used the excuse of Pitlochry to not have to really talk about it because talking meant addressing their issues and they’d historically been bad at that to the point it ruined all the good stuff.  He wanted so badly to keep the good stuff.  He planned to keep the good stuff. That meant staying alive, safe, and with Alex at Pitlochry.  He couldn’t afford to break again because he found someone he couldn’t save.

Yet, whatever was calling to him made him throw all caution to the wind.

The staircase was long and dark, so much so he could barely see a damn thing.  Instinct and whatever was calling him were his only sense of direction.  Maybe he should’ve felt scared. Instead, he felt braver than he had ever before in entire life. The hum deep in his brain, in his bones, kept getting louder and stronger the more he walked.

And then there was a glow.

It was faint, but it sparked something deep within Michael, a familiarity that his conscious mind couldn’t comprehend but his body knew.  He raced towards it and not a single cell in his body was surprised to find a pod at the end of the tunnel.  The walkie-talkie that was strapped to his shirt went off, Alex’s voice ringing through the air and getting progressively more and more panicked when he didn’t respond.  He couldn’t respond.

Inside the pod, there was a baby.  A small one, curled into the fetal position and floating there for god knows how long.  Someone had put her here, put her in a place where no one could find her unless they knew.  Michael didn’t know.  Yet here he was.

“Guerin, I’m giving you ten seconds to respond, if you don’t, I’m going to come get you,” Alex said, carefully skirting the part where he’d put a small tracking device in each of their walkie talkies.  It was for safety, in case someone was here.  He thought someone had him.

Michael should’ve responded.  His body seemed to scream out to respond to him, to let him know he was totally fine and it wasn’t necessary, but whatever was bringing him to this pod was in control.  It didn’t give a shit about a worrying Alex; it wanted Michael.

The fear only started whenever his own hands began glowing in a way he’d only seen Max’s or his mother’s.  He didn’t know how to do that and he surely didn’t know how he was doing it now.  But that hum assured him this was supposed to happen, subduing his fear with the overwhelming calm and desire to follow it’s lead.

No silver was needed as his glowing palms reached into the pod, grabbing the infant cautiously and pulling her out into the world.  She breathed for the first time and she whimpered and she whined and Michael stared at her as he held her out in front of him.  The baby laid across his forearm, Michael instinctively cradling her head in his hand and allowed the out-of-place feeling of overwhelming pride wash over him.

Michael had held many babies in his life and even taken care of a few.  Foster care was a bitch and there had been more than one home he’d been thrown into where he was expected to cater to the younger children that were there.  It never really bothered him, it wasn’t their fault and he could at least make sure they were being looked after while he could, but none of that pseudo-parenting made him feel like he did in that moment. He could only assume that it was due to it being a child of his own species that it felt so surreal.  He couldn’t even move.

“Guerin,” That was Kyle’s voice.  It was present, not over radio signals.  Michael didn’t look over to him.  “What’cha got there?”

Eventually, after blinking a few million times, the spell over him was broken.  Michael fell back on his ass, carefully pulling the baby into his chest and cradling her close.  He had to catch his breath before letting his eyes drift over to see Valenti standing there with nothing short of shock and confusion on his face.

“The fuck’s it look like?” Michael managed before cautiously looking back down to make sure he hadn’t hurt the little alien.  She looked fine, kicking her feet aimlessly and gripping onto the wire of walkie talkie.  Michael pried it out of her little fist, letting her take hold of his thumb instead.

“Guerin!” Alex’s voice echoed through the tunnel and Michael, who was now firmly in control of his own mind again, felt his heart claw into his throat.  He’d scared him.  So much for healing their relationship.  Alex jogged up to them, coming into view with the light of the dim pod.  His chest was heaving and he looked so fucking worried.  He spoke before Michael could apologize.  “What‒where did you get that?”

“Sorry for scaring you,” Michael said softly, his eyes shifting back down to the baby in his arms.

“Michael,” Alex said slowly, cautiously.  His footsteps crunched against the dusty concrete floor. “What is that?”

“Jesus Christ, have neither of you seen a baby before?” he shot back, slowly and carefully taking off the jacket Alex had made him wear to wrap around the little alien.

“We have.  We’re more confused on how you went missing for nearly an hour and then we find you with a child that wasn’t with you when we came,” Kyle said as if it should’ve been obvious why they were concerned.  Nearly an hour?  Had he really been gone that long?  It felt like five minutes at most.

“She called to me,” Michael said simply.  That was the only way he could describe it, the only way that made sense to him.

“Uh-huh,” Alex’s voice again made him look up.  He was closer this time, worry and fear very obvious on his face.  What was he so scared of?  There was nothing scary about a baby.

“Let me see it,” Kyle said.  Overwhelming panic encompassed Michael so quickly and so strongly that he wondered if it was even his.

“No.  Why?  What are you gonna do to her? She’s mine,” Michael insisted, holding the little alien closer to his chest.  Her tiny hand was holding tightly onto Michael’s thumb and he had no intention of prying it off.

Alex and Kyle shared a look before looking back at him.  Micahel hated when they did that.  It was like they decided they could communicate without speaking.  He hated it even more when it was about him.

“Michael, she isn’t yours,” Alex said softly.  It felt like a betrayal for some reason.  Alex didn’t get it, he didn’t feel it.  She was Michael’s, end of discussion.

“Okay, but she’s an alien and who is the only other alien here? Oh, yeah, me, so she’s mine by default,” Michael argued.  He didn’t know how to put into words the tie he felt to this little baby he just discovered.  It was strong and just clicked in his mind like this was undoubtedly his responsibility.  This was his purpose in life.  They wouldn’t get it.

They did the whole look-sharing thing again.

“Fine,” Kyle said carefully, “We can take her with us.”

“Of fucking course we’re taking her with us, was there another option?” Michael scoffed, scowling at the doctor who clearly thought he had a say in this.  Like Michael would leave her.  Absolutely not.

He’d left aliens before.  He wasn’t about to do it again.

Kyle just ignored his comment though, “I need to check her out, make sure she’s stable enough to just take straight home.”  He started taking steps towards Michael.  He very slowly stood up with a nod, hesitantly passing the baby from his arms to Kyle’s.

However, the moment she was out of Michael’s grasp, she started screaming.  Her cry was a force to be reckoned with, echoing around the tunnel and bouncing off the walls to make it even louder.  Michael felt it in his core.

“Give her back, she doesn’t like you!” Michael snapped, taking her back.  He held her little head to his shoulder, glaring at Kyle who held his hands up as a white flag.  It was almost comical how quickly her cries subdued whenever Michael held her close again.  He might’ve laughed if he wasn’t so focused on the relief he got from the tiny alien relaxing again.  “She’s mine.”

Alex moved forward, curiosity in place of fear as he held his hands out.  Michael licked his lips as he looked between his baby and Alex.  He trusted Alex.  Valenti was growing on him, but Alex was the one he’d trust more than literally anyone else in the world.  Alex was allowed all his vulnerabilities without a second thought‒if he trusted anyone to take care of the baby, it was Alex. Even if he didn’t get it.

“Okay,” Michael said softly, holding his breath as he carefully passed the baby to Alex’s arms.

Admittedly, she stayed quiet a little longer than she did with Kyle, but, after a few whimpers that made Michael’s heartache, she started crying.  Michael grabbed her again, cradling her close and shushing her.

“I don’t like when she cries,” Michael said, trying to explain so Alex would stop looking so hurt, “It feels like when Isobel or Max gets hurt.  It, it’s like it hurts me too.” Alex stared at him for a moment with nothing short of worry on his face.

“Is there a rational explanation for that?” Alex asked Kyle, not even trying to be subtle.  Michael rocked her, his eyes falling closed as he fed off the peace the baby exuded when she was in his arms.

“Uh, if I had to guess, it’s a whole psychic thing. I… I don’t know why it’s so strong?  I don’t know, I’m not an alien expert,” Kyle tried.

“I meant, why does she freak out every time someone other than Michael holds her?” Alex clarified, sounding a little more fed up.

“Oh, I’d say his body temperature. I don’t know exactly how the pod things work, but I’m sure it feels like an incubator.  Also, I’m sure the little thing’s used to his species, they’re hotter than us,” Kyle rationalized. Michael opened his eyes again.

“I don’t know, Alex is pretty hot,” Michael commented.  Alex’s lips struggled as he tried to fight the incoming smile, cocking his head to the side as he gave his signature Sweet Eyes.  Michael had no other way to describe them than that.  They were so fond they made him feel gooey, they’d always been his Sweet Eyes.

“Oh, so the baby trance breaks for you to be flirtatious?  Why am I not surprised?” Alex said and Michael smiled at him.  Maybe they could still be something.  He knew adding a baby into the mix made things a little harder, but Michael believed they could still make it.  They had to.

“Okay, look, I know we’re all distracted by the whole baby thing and flirting with your ex thing, but I’d like to remind everyone that we’re still in an abandoned prison in a secret tunnel where we found a fucking child,” Kyle said.  He had a good point.

It was much faster getting out of Pitlochry than it was getting inside of it, yet the sun was already starting to set which meant they had to have been there for a while.  Michael’s internal clock must’ve been completely fucked once he started feeling that pull.  That was made more prevalent whenever they all climbed into Alex’s fancy truck and Micahel was suddenly hit with just how tired he actually was.  His whole body felt drained and he melted into the seat, the baby firmly against his chest.

Alex drove maybe five minutes before pulling over and forcing Kyle in the driver’s seat and climbing in the back.

“You’re going to drop her if you try to keep sitting up when you’re about to pass the hell out,” Alex said and he didn’t give Michael much of a choice but to lay his head in his lap.  Not that he minded.  Michael made sure the little alien stayed in his arm, laying all cuddled up between the seats of the car and Michael’s chest and still wrapped in the jacket.

*

“Oh my god, I can’t get over how cute she is,” Isobel gushed as she lifted the baby from the couch.  Michael watched her, struggling to keep his hands to himself and not make sure she didn’t drop her.  He knew she wouldn’t, but that didn’t help the anxiety in his chest.

Alex sat beside him and draped his arm over the back of the couch behind him‒that helped.

“Okay, so, her cells look the same as yours, for the most part, I’d say she’s definitely the same species.  The only difference is your power source is pretty prevalent in your DNA, but hers... it’s virtually glowing inside of her.  Has she shown any signs of any powers?” Liz asked as she walked in from the kitchen.  In the 30 minutes since she’d pulled up at the cabin with Max, she’d turned the kitchen into a makeshift lab.

“Other than the whole luring Michael thing, no,” Alex answered.

Liz nodded, “So, she’s psychic?”

“We all are on some level, though,” Max added.

“Okay, well, when did you guys come into your main powers?”

“I’ve had ‘em for as long as I can remember,” Michael said, letting himself lean into Alex’s side just a little. Isobel nodded in agreement.

“Mine was a bit later, like when I was eleven, but the psychic thing was already there,” Max said.  Liz nodded thoughtfully, mumbling under her breath as he went back into the kitchen.

“Oh, look at this smile!” Isobel cooed, turning the little alien slightly to show Micahel her smile.  It was easily the most contagious thing in the world.

Isobel had been a little later than Max and Liz, but she was carting a few baby essentials including bottles, formula, onesies, and diapers.  Micahel was especially thankful for the diapers since his jacket was now completely ruined.  However, with some help from Kyle, they had him fed, bathed, and dressed, putting both she and Micahel at ease.  It also helped that this happened after Liz had stuck her in the arm with a needle.

“Oh, she’s so soft and lovable! Yes, you are! Yes, you are!” Isobel said, earning happy heavy breathing and gurgling from the baby.  A few more baby-talked sentences later, she stood to give her back to Michael.  He clearly had it written all over his face how much he wanted to hold her again.  It really felt like his baby.

“Hi, baby,” Michael said, trying his hand at baby talk as he brought her back against his chest. Alex snorted.

“She needs a name,” Isobel said, leaning forward.  Michael nodded slowly, pursing his lips in thought as he looked down at the baby in his arms.

Before he could even suggest anything, Kyle walked back in the room with Max and they stood in the middle of the room like they had something important to say. Michael doubted they did.  He got his confirmation‒the baby was healthy. That’s all he needed to know.

“So, I figure we can all pitch in watching her until I can get in touch with a social worker.  She’s young enough that she’ll probably get adopted fast, but‒”

“What are you talking about?” Michael said, sitting up straight as he stared at Kyle in frustrated confusion.  The words ‘social worker’ sent a familiar chill down his spine that he’d thought he’d gotten over at least a decade prior. No way that was an option when it came to his baby.

“Micahel, we can’t keep her, she’s not ours to keep,” Max said, that condescending tone dripping from his voice and provoking Michael to have to keep way too much focus in staying calm.  “We have to give her to someone who knows how to take care of her.”

“I’m sorry, who said this was your decision to make?” Michael snapped.  His was nearly vibrating with anger.  How dare they think they could just take her away.  What the fuck gave them the right?

“Michael‒”

“Don’t ‘Michael’ me! She’s mine! She isn’t going anywhere!”

“You don’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby.”

“So?  Does anyone? I’ll learn,” Michael said, scoffing as he shook his head.  The baby in his arms clearly seemed to feed off his mood, gradually getting more and more fussy as Michael got more and more pissed.  “I’m not having this conversation with you guys, she’s not going anywhere. I don’t understand why you would want her too.  I know you guys think you had it great and all, and I’m sure you think you did, but you were still confused and scared of yourselves and scared of other people.  And we were older, we knew that we came from pods!  She’s too little, she won’t know anything.  She’ll just know that she can do things that she shouldn’t, she’ll be terrified and alone.  Why should I put her through that, especially when she has someone who wants her?  Not only someone who wants her but understands her power and can provide an environment where she can explore that power freely without being scared and trying to hide it.  I can give her what we didn’t have!  I don’t care if you don’t want to, Max, but I do.  I’m not letting you guys try to convince me that she’ll be better off with someone who doesn’t understand her and never will.”

The room was quiet as they stared at him.  Though, instead of understanding like it should’ve been, it was just pity.  It was as though they weren’t even aware that this baby was going to grow and become like them, become a powerful alien.  Yeah, there was a chance she could end up living fine and happy, but there was a bigger chance that she wouldn’t.  And at least they had each other‒this baby wouldn’t have anyone.  Michael knew what that felt like and, bond or not, he refused to let her go through that.  

“Fuck you guys, I’ll figure it out on my own, no need to stress yourselves out,” Michael spat, standing to his feet and heading down the hall to Alex’s room.  He couldn’t look at them, not when they all were acting like he was being irrational.  He didn’t have it in him to comprehend how wanting to take care of someone who needed it was irrational.

The only thing that calmed him down was the fact that Alex followed him.

“They’ve completely lost it, why would I give her up? She needs me, she needs someone who‒” Michael had to cut himself off when he turned to see Alex’s face didn’t look that much different from the rest of them.  Pity and concern.  He took a step back.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Alex asked, reaching out to him.  Micahel stepped away again.  He didn’t even have Alex on his side.  Alex, who grew up feeling unwanted, unloved, and undeniably different in a way he couldn’t understand for years, wanted to subject the same fate onto an infant who had someone who wanted her.  What the fuck was going on?  “You don’t even have a place of your own, how can you take care of a baby?”

It was a low blow, they both knew it.  Well, all three of them knew it.  It knocked the air from Micahel’s lung and, within seconds, the baby was crying.  Michael stared at him, a million different things going through his mind as a way to retaliate but only one stood out and repeated itself.  I have enough saved for a new place, I just wanted to be with you, you asshole.

Still, regardless of how much he wanted to throw it in his face, he couldn’t.  So Micahel gave a tight, sarcastic smile and leaned closer.

“Don’t worry, Alex, we’ll be out of your life in a few days,” Michael said, pushing past him and heading towards the guest bedroom.  It hurt him and he hoped it hurt Alex, even if just a little bit.  If anyone understood why he didn’t want to give him up, it should’ve been Alex.  But then again, he had spent over a decade thinking that Alex was an exception to many things.

He rarely ever was.

Michael ignored the shakiness in his hands as he shushed the baby in his arms, swallowing back any tears that threatened.  He felt stupid for being emotional, he should’ve expected this.  Alex never stayed when things got hard and the rest of them thought nothing of him. Why would anyone around him think he was capable of raising a baby?  They all thought he was stupid, a lowlife, a good-for-nothing street rat who would never get anywhere and would never care for anyone but himself.  But they were wrong and he cared a lot about a lot of people to the point he’d do anything for them and this baby had been added to the list.  Why couldn’t they see that?

Michael sniffled louder than he wanted, wiping away a stray tear and pretending it wasn’t over losing Alex all over again.

“It’s okay, baby, we’ll figure it out, it’s just you and me,” Michael said, “That’s all we need.”

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #michael guerin fic #alex manes #alex manes fic #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #rnm #rnm fic #4.2k word #multichapter #i'll add this to my masterlist later i'm too heckin tired #sorry if i'm missing any tags