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spinster-sisters · 3 years

Text

Arrangement. psh

TW: Oral, fingering, corruption, unprotected sex, public sex, reader is kinda selfish but in the oblivious way not the malicious way, seonghwa is seonghwa. Honestly I was going for something kinda specific here and i dont think i succeded, its not bad or anything just not what i was going for but i dont think yall will be able to tell hopefully.

The first thing i write in probably well over 2 weeks and its something that nobody but @deja-vux wanted. what can i say? this idea gave me brain rot.

One last thing, this is kind of a part 2 to the corruption kink blurby thing I wrote for Seonghwa (can be found in my master list) but it’s not a direct continuation or anything and you don’t have to read that to get this.

Your jaw ached in strain as you held your mouth open, trying to keep your throat relaxed. Seonghwa’s grip was tight in your hair as he thrust his dick shallowly past your lips. The position was altogether uncomfortable. Seonghwa laid across the back seat of his vintage car, back propped up against the door with one knee raised. You were knelt between his thighs, bent over in a painful arch trying to keep still in the tight space. But all of that was inconsequential, the breathy groans and crooked smirk of the man in front of you were enough to drown out the pain.

As his hips pushed into your mouth again, dick sliding further down your throat than before, in a desperate attempt to please the man you did your best to swallow around the long length of his cock although tears pricked in your eyes. His grip on your hair tightened and you looked up just in time to see his head thump back against the glass window followed by another low groan and a face screwed up in pleasure, his normally perfectly styled black hair now tousled and falling into his eyes. Deep satisfaction ran through you.

To your surprise, the hand in your hair yanked you back and off him. You whined at the roughness, despite the way it sent shocks down to your core. Seonghwa’s eyes cracked open to peer down at you with a grin.

“You're getting good at this, princess.” He compliments in his velvet voice. His words elated you and a smile crept onto your lips.

“You’ve come so far in so little time, you could barely take me in your mouth without gagging a month ago, now look at you. You should be proud.” Seonghwa continued, running his hand through your hair once before regaining his grip on it. You practically purred. While you looked back on those first few times with Seonghwa fondly, you much preferred his smooth praises to the harsh words and instructions he gave you before. But you were still glad for them, there was no way you would have come this far this quickly if he hadn’t been hard on you.

Seonghwa’s hand was pulling you back down again before you could voice anything, “come on princess, show me how much you’ve learned.”

Back to work you went. He gave you a tad bit more freedom this time around, not making any move to thrust into your mouth, instead, allowing you to show your newfound mastery of dick sucking. But you kept his preferences in mind, he always wanted to draw things out, to take his time with you. So you began by kissing gently along the red tip, then lapping at the precum that spilled from it. The taste was definitely an acquired one, your face had screwed up in disgust the first time I touched your tongue, but now you sought it out as it meant you were doing well.

Taking the tip completely in your mouth, you hummed as you swirled your tongue around it for a moment before popping off and caressing the underside with a flick of the tongue. Seonghwa hummed in approval, nudging your head forward again in gentle encouragement. You took him into your mouth again, this time hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head in a firm rhythm. You kept your tongue pressed into the underside of his dick, running along the most prominent vein. Each time you took more and more of his impressive length into your mouth, moaning in satisfaction as you went.

You couldn’t help the way your legs pressed together as more wetness pooled in your underwear. Your mind flashed with the first time Seonghwa had taken you completely. Your body had shuddered as he eased his cock between your legs and into your cunt. It had been uncomfortable sure, and the sensation had been unfamiliar, but Seonghwa had taken care to prepare you enough before ruining you in that way. Your first time had been exceptional needless to say.

You were drawn back to the present by the low growl rumbling out of Seonghwa’s chest as his dick hit the back of your throat, all of him save for the part you had your hand wrapped around for support was now gracefully sliding past your lips. You ventured another look up to his face. He was watching you intently with fire behind his dark eyes. You looked up at him with wide eyes, barely able to meet his strong gaze. His elbow rested on his bent knee and his head was leaning against his hand. If it weren’t for the low sounds he released from time to time you would never be able to tell what you were up to between his legs from his face.

The sudden desire to break his composure overtook you, to make him feel as desperate as the ache between your legs. So as you removed your hand to take his length all the way down into your throat your hips began rocking back and forth, rutting into nothing as your legs pressed tightly together.

“Keeping going like that, and I’ll cum down your throat.” His voice rumbled.

You doubted that. Another thing you had learned about him was that he was unbelievably composed. The kind of restraint that came from much experience. He wouldn’t cum unless he wanted to, his words were only to encourage you. But regardless you took them with glee. Seonghwa had long since discovered that nothing encouraged you more than the thought of his cum, the very reward for your efforts.

Despite his promise, it was several more minutes before he spilled into your mouth, having finally decided that you had sufficiently proven your knowledge. His head had fallen back against the window and he let out a trail of deep groans as he spilled against your tongue. You swallowed it appreciatively, beaming up at him from between his legs, awaiting the praise for your efforts.

When he looked at you again it was with a crooked smile and a gentle hand stroking your hair.

“Well done princess,” he spoke far too casually for having just cum down your throat. His free hand took your hip between his fingers and hoisted you up to straddle his lap. He adjusted to sit normally in the seat and he took a moment to size you up. His gaze burned as his eyes trailed over your body and your legs tried to squeeze together again as another bout of wetness spilled out of you, but Seonghwa’s hips kept them apart. He noticed the attempt, however.

With a smirk, Seonghwa slid his hand into the waistband of your shorts and into your panties. You sucked in air only to release it with a whine as his cold fingers slipped between your folds, releasing the slick into his palm. He chuckled at you.

“Oh what have I done to you,” he started with mock remorse, a small pout painting his features, “only a true slut could get his wet from sucking dick, I suppose I have truly ruined you,” he finished with a wild smirk. Your hips ground into his palm subconsciously.

“Mmmhmmm” you sighed in agreement, absolutely loving when he spoke to you like that, only Seonghwa’s words could ever affect you like that. If anyone else said them it would sound vile.

“Yours,” you added with a hoarse voice, rocking your hips into his still hand again.

“Mine?” He asked, pretending to be confused, tilling his head to the side as if asking for clarification. Though the next words to leave your lips were no surprise to him, as he had taught you them.

“Your slut.”

It was getting harder to avoid Seonghwa at school. Not because either of your schedules changed, not because he stopped ditching as much as he did. In fact, those things hadn’t happened at all, it just seemed like they had. It seemed like everywhere you went you saw him. Either sauntering his way through the hallways, gathered with his like-minded friends in the courtyard, or even sitting in the far back of the single class you shared flipping his pen between two fingers as he stared absently out the window.

Once upon a time, before you had seen him as anything more than trouble making pretty boy, it had confused you how he had even managed to be in the same advanced literature class as you and it hard infuriated you when you discovered that Park Seonghwa had the audacity to be smart. Your one-track mind had seen it as a waste for him to have even a shred of intelligence behind his starry eyes when it was clear school was the last thing ever on his mind. But at the time you had pushed the thought aside, thinking that as long as you still stood at the top of the class it didn’t matter.

But when you found it most difficult to avoid Park Seonghwa was when he was leaned against the locker of some pretty face showing that crooked half-smirk that you had become so familiar with. And it caused quite a few unnamed emotions to stir in your stomach each time. Each time you shoved those emotions away before they had the chance to manifest. You had no right to feel them. It was your reputation at stake if the student body discovered that you were Park Seonghwa’s latest pass time, not his. In fact, it would probably gain him a feather in his cap from his crowd if they knew. You and Seonghwa had never discussed the exclusivity of your arrangement, you hardly had the clarity of mind to do so at any moment his gaze was focused on you, so you could never be sure if his velvet words had led him between the legs of any of the pretty faces you saw him with. And you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on it, even though very deeply wanted to know. Once again, you pushed the thoughts from your mind, as long as you still to be with him the most, it didn’t matter what those other people did with him.

But as the school slowly emptied at the end of the day, and you were making your way to the student council room once again (trying your hardest to not remember when he had taken you against a table in there as well) you found Seonghwa loitering in the hallway with a girl leaned against his chest inches away from his face.

You came to a dead stop. The gears of your brain are either unable or unwilling to comprehend what you saw. Why this particular time bothered you so much was a question you could not answer, it was not the first time, nor would it be the last. Normally you would simply turn your head and keep walking as though you had seen nothing, and you had almost convinced yourself to do exactly that when the girl noticed your presence.

“Do you need something?” She spat, clearly from the crowd that thought the student council was all prissy know it all’s, and you had to remind yourself that until very recently that is exactly what you were. But you were also stubborn. You composed yourself quickly and kept your eyes on the girl.

“Unless you have somewhere to be, I suggest you move your groping elsewhere. Somewhere off school grounds preferably.” You called in an even tone, thankfully your voice had not betrayed the way your stomach was churning.

“Come on, don’t be such a prude,” the nameless girl countered. Her choice of words temped you to glance at Seonghwa, but you had a feeling he would be looking at you, which you don’t know if you could handle.

“Trust me, the rest of the student body would be just as grossed out as I am, whatever is going on here is not as ‘hot as you think it is,” you added air quotes around the word for good measure. The girl smirked at you.

“I don’t know, I think they would be lucked to see such a sexy couple.” She retorted, her arms curling around Seonghwas middle. At the word “couple” you couldn’t help it, your eyes flashed to Seonghwa. He had the audacity to look amused as if the back and forth was the best entertainment he had seen all week.

You didn’t like that she used that word. You had absolutely no desire to be in a relationship with Seonghwa, quite the opposite, in fact, it would ruin you. But your mind flashed with the one word you heard him use perhaps most often, “mine.” Granted, you had never called him ‘yours,’ but the experiences he gave you seemed somehow cheapened if he was giving everyone else the same ones. You felt spiteful, what was the point in teaching you all those wonderful things if he could get them elsewhere. Those were the thoughts that spurred on your words.

“I’ll let them know when I find one then.” You deadpanned. It took her a moment to realize what you meant, then her mouth hung open. She looked ready to retort before Seonghwa cut her off.

“Why don’t you go home, leave this conversation to the big kids.” He said, looking at her for the first time since the conversation started. Once again, it took her a moment to realize it was her he was talking to, and then she gapped like a fish. Seonghwa had turned his eyes back to you, not bothering to entertain her shock. Finally, with a huff she stormed off, leaving you and Seonghwa alone in the hallway, locked in a stare-off.

“Kinda slow isn’t she? You can do better than that.” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh I know I can,” he replied without missing a beat, but the less than subtle once over and the knowing smile he gave you only served to tick you off, rather than flatter you.

“Then why waste your time with her?” As soon as the words came out of your mouth you regretted them. They sounded far too much like jealousy for your taste, and based on the look in his eyes; an invitation as well. Seonghwa’s lean body pushed from the wall and took several long strides towards you, till he stood over you. His hand came to rest all too familiarly on your hip.

“Why? Have something better I can do with my time?” He said, not at all trying to hide his suggestive undertone. You scoffed, in an attempt to keep the burn of his stare away from your mind.

“Your disgusting,” you said, though it came out far less convincing than it sounded in your head. You took a step back from the all-to-magnetic boy. If someone came across you two now, you needed as much distance between him and you as possible.

“Are you going to report me? Madam President?” He replied in a moc disappointed tone.

“As if I adding today onto your record would change a thing. We have a filling cabinet for just you and your friends, Seonghwa. I don’t want to overflow it.” You threw back.

“I didn’t know the student council was such fans of my work.” He replied casually without missing a beat. You opened your mouth to retort but he cut you off.

“Come find me tomorrow night if you're still looking to help me waste time, princess,” he began, turning to grab his bag from the floor, “I think you have a council meeting to get from, wouldn’t want to get in your way of upholding the high standards of the school.” As he spoke he began walking away, only to throw a smirk over his shoulder at his last four words. Leaving you alone in the hallway.

You did not find him the next day. You had decided you were upset with him, not because of the girl, you told yourself, but because of the patronizing way he spoke to you. Not that that was different from normal. It just seemed to be the best way to allow yourself to be mad at him without those unwanted feelings worming their way into your brain.

Whether Seonghwa had even noticed your boycott was impossible to tell. He would never come to you, he wanted you to come to him. He never seemed even the slightest bit bothered in the few times you had glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He laughed with his friends without a care in the world and his blank face during class held no emotion besides boredom. You on the other hand, now that was a different story. You had become used to meeting up with him once or even twice a week in various places around town for your “lessons” and you had become “insatiable.” (his word not yours)

Your resolve to be mad at him was cracking as the days went on and was replaced with the need for him. Him and only him. No one else would do.

But in an effort to keep your resolve you threw yourself in the opposite direction, instead, making plans with the Vice President of the student council, a lovely girl named Marie.

Marie was your friend. She chose to use the words “gal pals” from time to time. An airy upbeat girl who rarely let her soft smile fall from her face. And right now, the furthest possible thing from spending time with Park Seonghwa.

So on Wednesday, both you and Marie piled into her silver car and drove off to her house. You both stumbled into her orderly bedroom with a fit of quiet giggles at the expense of several other council members. You shrugged your bag off your shoulders and plopped down onto the plush carpet beside her bed as she did the same.

“Oh my gosh, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever! Outside of council meetings obviously, I mean, I was starting to think you had found a different best friend and I was-“ Marie started rambling almost as soon as she sat down. You couldn’t help the small smile that found your lips. It’s true you had been neglecting her as your friend for the past month or so, instead of spending time with, well, him. But now that sat in her familiar room, seeing the pictures of the events you had planned together scattered on the walls, the sudden realization that you had indeed missed her was shocking.

“Sorry about that, there was some stuff going on at home, that needed my attention. But now I’m back!” You replied, trying to match her seemingly boundless energy. Her face screwed up in worry at your words.

“Oh no! Is everything ok? Do you want to talk about it?” She asked in her characteristic wide eyes. You shook your head.

“It’s not serious I promise. My parents were just redoing the garden and my mother insisted I be home every day to help planting and stuff.” You continued with the lie you had prepared. It was the same thing you had been telling everyone when they asked about your general absence.

She looked content with your answer, smiling and pulling her binder from her bag.

“So, the basketball game this Friday, I know we have the event mostly planned out but I think that we still need to-“ she started again, going right into her work. And you held up a hand to slow her.

“Woah hold on,” you started with a smile, “we have been planning this game for 2 weeks I think we can take a break tonight. You know? Just hang out a little?” You asked. She looked at you surprised.

“Since when have you ever wanted to take a break?” She asked with a curious glance but it broke into a smile, “come on, it’s the first game of the season and the coach asked us specifically to make sure that the whole school showed up and it runs smoothly. Besides if I do a good job I might just beat you out for president next year.” She said the last part with a low voice and a wiggle of the eyebrows.

But that wasn’t the part of her outburst that surprised you. She was right, when have you ever been the one to want to take a break? Surely you have been indulging yourself too much lately. You recovered your momentary lapse.

“Oh you wish,” you replied with a coy smirk that broke you both down into giggles once again.

The rest of your night was flung into a casual discussion with homework and planning galore.

Perhaps there are better places, and there are definitely better times. But since it came down to either the locker room showers or the back of Seonghwa car, at least the showers had more room.

Outside the door, the basketball game was raging on and I likely would be for the next hour. You could hear the school cheering along with the game, and the surprisingly loud squeaks of the player's shoes on the gym floor. Nobody would be coming in here till the game was over, you had until then.

You had been leaning against the sink when Seonghwa walked in. One look at him was all it took for you to be willing to break your streak, it’s hard to be mad at someone when you can’t glance at them without your mind flashing with every dirty thing they have done to you. So the moment he crossed over to you, you flung yourself at him. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck when your lips meet his. You could feel him smirking on your lips, but at the moment you couldn’t care less.

Seonghwa’s hands fell to your hips and to your utter dismay he used his grip to gently push your body away from him. A whine pulled from your lips as you looked up at him with pleading eyes. He looked amused.

“Hold on there princess, what’s the rush?” He asked head tiling to the side with a patronizing look. You huff at his words, tightening your arms around his neck you push yourself flush against him again.

“The rush is that I haven’t had time to see you all week and I’m going insane.” You convey in a tone that clearly says ‘shouldn’t this be obvious?’ Seonghwa’s eyebrow raised accusingly.

“Oh, is that what it was? That you didn’t have time?” He asked, though his tone suggested he knew the answer. You could feel yourself blushing, so he had noticed you had been avoiding him. Honestly, you didn’t think he would.

“Because I’m pretty sure I saw you and miss congeniality meeting up every day after school.” You wish now more than ever that you had more experience in the “relationship” field, even if this wasn’t one because you could not for the life of you decipher Seonghwa’s expression. His face was relaxed, showing no sign of anger or disappointment or any other emotion, but his eyes were staring you down with great intensity. But then again, he always seemed to do that.

“Council stuff.” You mumble in reply, trying with all your might to speak as casually as him. At this, Seonghwa gifted you with an expression you understood. Fake surprise.

“Oh, is that what it was?” He began, looking up at the ceiling as though pondering the idea, before looking back to you with that damned crooked smirk. His grip on your waist suddenly tightened. A moment later he had pushed you back against the sink, caging his arms around you.

“Or is it because you were jealous?” He was grinding madly now.

Jealousy. That was that emotion that you had been shoving down all week. How you had not realized it before was a mystery. But to hear it come from his mouth? It made you see red. Suddenly you were far angrier than you had any right to be. Your gaze hardened quickly and you did your best to put space between your bodies, though it was practically impossible with his arms changing you in and head leaning down into your face.

“Do you want to waste time talking, or are you going to fuck me?” You spat. He processed your words for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before he had the audacity to look amused.

“So you were jealous.” He practically giggles, shaking his head and looking down in amusement. The tips of his fluffy black hair brushed your nose and you almost swatted at it. How dare he? You pressed your hands into his shoulders and pushed against him, trying to move him away from you. He allowed you to move him, but not by much, just enough to give you a little room while you fume at him.

If you had the slightest bit of hindsight at this moment, you would have realized your anger was misplaced. You were angry at yourself for feeling that stupid emotion in the first place. But at present, blaming him seemed easiest. And the fact that your anger only served to amuse him made it feel a bit more justified.

“What’s so funny.” You spat, crossing your arms in front of your chest. He peered at you, and your clearly ticked-off demeanor before chuckling. His hands still gripped the porcelain sink behind you and for a brief moment, his hand flexed against the hard surface, holding some unseen emotion in the action.

“You are, princess. For someone so smart I forgot how absolutely clueless you can be about anyone who isn’t yourself.”

You almost stormed out of the room. And you probably would have if it wasn’t for the placement of his arms. But he continued speaking despite your livid expression.

“I was keeping up appearances.” He said in a flat tone. You could now add confusion into the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

“What does that mean?” You said the words with venom but there was a clear tone of lack of understanding in your voice. He, once again, found this amusing.

“Exactly what it sounds like. How would it look for me, if I suddenly started to ignore every advance made on me? Believe it or not sweetheart but I also have a reputation to uphold. Just the same as you. And since your the one who is so adamant that nobody knows about our ‘meetings’ it’s business as usual.”

Realization washed over you like water to a flame, all the rage dissipating just as quickly as it appeared, and your face softened. And then came the guilt. You just basically blew up on the man for doing exactly what you wanted him to, for doing exactly what you were doing by avoiding him. You had never before considered Seonghwa’s reputation in your musings. Your eyes glazed over a bit as you looked down, letting out a quiet “oh.”

You kept your gaze rooted to your shoes, unwilling to look at Seonghwa for fear of what you would see. You jumped when you felt his touch. One hand came to your waist and a gentle caress and the other took hold of your chin more firmly and tilted your head up to his eyes. And to your surprise, a coy smile lay across his features.

“It’s ok princess, your obliviousness was what drew me to you in the first place anyways. You were so caught up in your own little self-centered world you didn’t even notice how badly I wanted you till I had you pressed against the wall. I don’t think this would be as fun if I didn’t have to teach you a thing or two along the way,”

you blushed again at the memory and he slid his thumb against your lower lip. Your mouth parted automatically to wrap your lips around it, lulled into the submissive trace his silken words always put you in. He chuckled at you. “At least now I know you haven’t been messing around with anyone else. You’ve been too busy sulking over me to even notice if any other guys tried to seduce you.”

You hummed around his finger, slightly comforted by the fact he would have been jealous too. His words suggested that he wanted you to himself as much as you felt the same about him.

His thigh was suddenly pressing into your core and the hand on your waist dragged your hips across it. The skirt you wore did nothing to shield your panty-covered cunt from the rough denim of his jeans and your mouth hung open to mewl at him, his thumb still dangling from your lips. He leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You wouldn’t let any other guys touch you, right princess?” He mumbles though he spoke like he already knew the answer.

You garbled put some kind of agreement as quick as you could. With a smirk, Seonghwa hiked up the fabric of your skirt to expose your damp underwear and lifted you ever so slightly by the waist onto the edge of the sink. There was a sliver of pride in his eyes at the way you spread your legs willing for him, presenting yourself as best you could, just as he had taught you. He pushed the fabric covering your pussy to the side and slide a fringed through the slick that gathered there. And you muffled a whine into his neck as your arms flung over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna have to be quick with you today sweetheart, the game is almost over, but wouldn’t want the whole basketball team to come piling in and see you like this would you.”

You shook your head as best as you could with your face nestled into his collar bones. Your eyes were screwed shut as his fingers continued to glide through your folds, sometimes barely slipping inside you before pulling out. He was working you up with well-practiced hands. He had learned his way around your body much faster than you had learned his, knowing all the ways to make you tick.

“No, this is for my eyes only, right sweetheart?” One of Seonghwa’s slim fingers caught your clit and you gasps, gripping the shirt covering his shoulders. He tutted at you.

“Don’t tell me you've forgotten what all I’ve taught you in just one week. Come on and use your words.” You could feel his words rumbling in his chest for how tight you held him. You were hesitant to pull away, but the edge in his voice urged on. Moving away just enough to let your voice carry.

“Only for you,” you mumble. Despite your quiet tone, you meant the words far more than you anticipated. Seonghwa pushed two long slim fingers inside you at your response, stretching your walls with ease. You gasped at the intrusion and buried your face in his chest again, trying to muffle any noises that may come out of you. There was still a game going on outside after all.

Seonghwa’s fingers arched inside you, brushing against the most sensitive place on your walls and your back arched. You could feel yourself getting louder and louder with every passing moment, but you were still unbearably on edge of being discovered.

“You especially responsive today, maybe leaving you alone for a while has its benefits.” Seonghwa mused into your hair as he worked, pulling even more sounds from you with every movement of his hand. His practiced fingers touched and toyed with you so well, it was impossible to keep quiet.

“No-“ you started in a shaky voice, not wanting to go so long without his touch like this again.

“Only joking sweetheart,” he giggles in your ear. But at that moment he pulled his skilled fingers away from your core and you choked on air. He ran his free hand up your spine in what was meant to be a gentle caress but it sent shivers through your body regardless. Your face stayed hidden against his body, at this point, his body heat seemed to be the only thing grounding you right now.

With your vision obscured there was a brief moment of heated silence where it seemed like nothing was happening, then the distinct sound of a belt clicking open and a zipper being pulled down echoed in the room. You pulled away from his chest and looked up at him with wide star eyes. He was already watching you with a smirk. Your mouth hung open with anticipation. He took in your face with a pleased expression, one hand coming down to cup your chin and tilt your head further up.

“I love it when you look at me like that,”

As soon as the words ended Seonghwa was crashing his lips onto yours and without missing a beat he thrust his length into your cunt in one quick movement. You were suddenly very thankful for the kiss, as it did well to muffle the cry ripping pst your lips. His grip on your hip was like iron as he began to set a pace. Each time pushing if possible even deeper inside you. You forced your legs to spread wider as your hands clawed down his back. Each time he filled you completely your body twitched as he brushed over your most sensitive spot.

Seonghwa still held your chin tightly in his palm, keeping your lips locked in a heated kiss. He seemed to be timing the kiss with his thrusts, which meant it was incredibly fast. He was kissing you as though he wished to devour you whole and at the moment you wanted nothing else but to allow him. Every few minutes the kiss would break as you both panted for air before it resumed with that same fervor.

Quite suddenly it became all too much, you were melting into him. Every stroke of his dick against your pulsing walls felt like fire shooting through your body in the best way, making you twitch uncontrollably. Your body acted of its own accord, hips bucking to meet his with every thrust and your hands grasping wildly against his back, trying to bring him impossibly closer. Several times you tried to break the kiss just to moan but his mouth chased yours and swallows up the sounds before they could escape.

And the kiss was something else entirely. You had kissed the man before but never like this. This felt so raw and unyielding. Every swipe of his tongue against your own felt like an invitation or a promise, for what you did not know. All of a sudden it felt entirely too intimate, too real. The kind of kiss reserved for true lovers in a moment of passion, not two teenagers fucking in a bathroom. But you couldn’t break away, not that you wanted to.

A gasp rang through the room. And in a moment that felt not unlike plunging into a freezing ocean, you realized that it had not come from you, or Seonghwa for that matter. Seonghwa had stilled to a halt inside you from the moment he heard it. He abruptly broke the kiss, sidestepping just enough that his broad back blocked the exposed parts of your body. But you couldn’t focus on the surprisingly chivalrous way he had protected you from sight, or the way he was mumbling under his breath as he righted himself and his clothes before doing the same to you.

No, your eyes were locked on the door. Where a mortified-looking Marie stood with her mouth hung open.

so can yall see what I was going for? or did I fail miserably lol.

#ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez timestamp #ateez headcanons #ateez imagines #seonghwa smut #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa headcanon #seongwha timestamp #seonghwa au

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

Note

Hi I was wondering if u could do a sequel to your trade off fanfic it’s sooo good and I need to know what happens next?!?!

You should just count yourself lucky this was one of the few pieces I wrote with a small continuation in-mind. Osamu’s my favorite, out of the twins, but it’s hard not to imagine Atsumu taking every opportunity to steal attention away from his twin, even with the twin they’re supposed to be sharing. He seems like the type to get… desperate, when he’s not in the spotlight.

Part One.

TW: Kidnapping, Emotional Manipualtion, Mentions of Violence, Slight Dehumanization, and Sligh Infantalization.

Osamu was stricter than Atsumu.

Atsumu was never kind. Even when you loved him, even when your relationship had been normal, he’d never been the type of boyfriend to bring home flowers or surprise you with a home-cooked dinner, even if he was more than happy to hang off of your waist and moan about how long it was taking as you made sure your pro-athlete didn’t starve to death. No, he wasn’t considerate, he wasn’t even nice, but he never made an effort to be cruel, either. When you acted-up, when you tried to run away, he would slap you or put you over his knee or do something painful and humiliating, but it’d never last for more than a few hours, and as long as you apologized and promised to be better, he’d never hold it against you. Osamu had rules. He had a method to his madness. When you fought back, you weren’t just told you were incapable, you were treated like you were incapable. Your restraints got tighter, your freedoms dwindled until they’d abandoned you completely. He’d let your misdeeds build up until he had to hurt you, until he could say he didn’t have a choice. He stood back and watch you dig your own grave, only to push you in when it was too deep to climb out of.

Atsumu treated you like a partner who didn’t know they were meant to love him back.

Osamu treated you like a pet who should know better than to not love him back.

That’s not to say you didn’t still hate Atsumu. You did. You hated him and his brother more than one person should hate anyone. You just couldn’t rember why you’d hated Atsumu so much--

“Hey there, thinkin’ about how much you miss me?”

Oh. Right.

That’s why.

It took you a second too long to curl into yourself, to snap in the direction of the familiar voice in an unfamiliar tone and bare your teeth at Atsumu’s smirking, unwanted face. You had been lost in thought, technically, but not of your own volition. After your latest bout of ‘misbehavior’, as your current captor put it, he’d started confiscating your books, your luxuries, anything and everything that might stop you from reconsidering your actions, like a child forced in the corner for a prolonged time-out. You didn’t have anything to do except think, but Atsumu didn’t have to know that. He didn’t get to know that. He didn’t get to know anything about you.

“Why the fuck are you here?” You spat, forcing the question out through gritted teeth. Anyone else stumbling into your bedroom would’ve been a god-send, it would’ve been a miracle. If Atsumu decided to make an appearance, it was only to throw you back into his basement, rather than his brother’s spare room. “Don’t tell me that you and Osamu are comparing notes, now. You might actually figure out how to stop me from leaving, if you put your two brain cells together.”

“That’s not the kind of language you should be usin’ with me, is it?” This question was just as mocking as his last, salt that was only ground deeper into your wounds as Atsumu took a step closer, then another, leaving the door ajar behind him. You considered trying to run, trying to push past him and see if you’d be able to make it further than the threshold, but just as your feet began to twitch, his fist was closing around your collar and he was dragging you to the edge of your bed, posing you to face him as he scanned over your form, his smirk dropping into a sneer as he evaluated what Osamu had dressed you in, what Osamu had done to you. Still, you couldn’t tell what bothered him more - the faded bruises encircling your wrists and the bandages plastered to your sides from his last punishment, or the monstrous, lacy things Osamu preferred to dress you in. “What’s he doin’ to you, baby? No wonder ‘samu wanted me to drop off some of your stuff, I’d kill him for makin’ me wear--”

“What do you mean he wanted you to? How did you know where I am?”

Atsumu’s eyes widened, his nails digging into the thin fabric. Instantly, you knew you shouldn’t have spoken.

“He hasn’t told you.” There was a laugh, breathy and amazed and disbelieving, as if there was some great, astounding, wonderful secret Osamu was supposed to share with you and hadn’t. In the blink of an eye, he’d let go of your collar, but the liberation was fleeting. Instead, his fingers were quick to tangle themselves in your hair, jerking you upward as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his grin pressing against your skin, not doing any harm but sending a reflexive, frigid jolt of panic down the length of your spine. You tried to push him away, shoving at his chest and attempting to put the smallest amount of distance between your body and his, but Atsumu was more than happy to drag you closer, to hold you tighter. “He hasn’t told you anything. Damn, and I was startin’ to think I was the mean one.” Another laugh, a chuckle this time. “He tried to make himself sound like a real hero, right? Such a good guy, taking in a stray from evil, clumsy Atsumu? How long did it take you to realize he was just as fucked up as your old-guy?”

You shook your head, but the sense of betrayal was numb, dull, a well-used blade struggling to find its way to your heart. Osamu hadn’t lied, or… he hadn’t lied for very long, at least. He’d made it sound like he’d gotten lucky. You’d just chosen the wrong place to go, the wrong pair of arms to run into. If this was supposed to happen, if they’d wanted this to happen, that would mean he knew what Atsumu was doing and he hadn’t…

You didn’t think you liked what that would mean.

You opened your mouth, ready to deny it, but before you could get a word out, Atsumu was being dragged away from you, revealing Osamu standing behind him, all tension and sharp frowns and narrow glares at his brother and at you, more the former than the latter. You forced yourself to relax, to fold your hands in your lap and take on the softened, fragile posture Osamu was so adamant that you maintain, but obedience did little to save you from the harshness in his voice, as he spoke. “I told you to stay out,” He grunted, ignoring you in favor of reprimanding Atsumu. “(Y/n) ain’t yours, right now. You have to wait your turn if you wanna play with ‘em.”

“So cold, ‘samu. What I’d do to get on your bad side?” In an instant, Atsumu was all high-pitched whines and dramatic pouts, making a point of rubbing at the back of his neck and turning his back to you, his obsession seemingly forgotten at the hint of something more interesting to do. “I’m just makin’ sure our baby knows what’s goin’ on. It’d be a shame if someone left ‘em in the dark, wouldn’t it?”

Osamu moved to answer, but you were faster, this time. “Is it true, Osamu?” You asked, the words hardly loud enough to be audible. “Did you... did you know?”

For a second, he met your eyes, and something almost apologetic flashed across his expression.

You might’ve been able to believe it was, if he wasn’t so quick to turn away.

“Get out.” If he was growling before, he was seething now, his shoulders squaring as he cocked his head towards the door, his hands balling into fists at his sides so tightly, you had to wonder if he’d manage to draw blood. “You’ve already done enough damage. I don’t need you going around, saying that kinda shit and puttin’ more ideas into their head. Get out before I throw you out.”

Atsumu just shrugged, only slapping his brother’s back as he passed by, making no move to argue, to stay, to take you back. It seemed like he wasn’t going to acknowledge your presence at all until he reached the door, pausing for a little too long as he threw an idle, careless smirk over his shoulder. As consceded as it was crushing.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks, angelface.”

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ducktracy · 2 years

Note

Hey Eliza, love your work! I was wondering, what is your favorite part of the drawing/art process, and why? My favorite part is the Sketching, you can see the human touch of it, which is why I tend to be careful with clean-up. How about you?

HI THERE!! this is such a great question!!

is it a cliché to say “all”? HAHA I FEEL SO VAGUE SAYING “ALL” but it’s TRUE!! i think though this year especially though, i’ve realized just how much i love painting/rendering/any of that stuff. i LOVE drawing forms, i LOVE drawing expressions and expressive body dynamics, but drawing nothing but that for storyboards and not really focusing on color and rendering has made me realize just how much i love the process when i DO do that.

i love sketching because i love the freedom and messiness of putting ideas down on paper—i agree wholeheartedly with the human touch! i love finding errors and man-made touches in art, it’s very comforting in a way. i can restrict myself sometimes by getting a little too tight with my sketches, but i love the spontaneity and energy it has before it’s wrung through the art pipeline!

i LOVE COLORING. i feel like i haven’t been huge on color until recently/this year, i’ve always admired it but never really exercised any color harmonies or took many liberties and just kinda put down what i thought fit. now i LOVE IT!! i’m still learning the tools of the trade and have a lot of studying up to do, but i love warm, cozy colors and i enjoy experimenting with different color harmonies! it’s something i want to explore deeper!

and i LOVE PAINTING AND DETAIL. painting is something i feel i’m not great at but i LOVE to do anyway. it’s something i didn’t realize i missed as much as i did until i started storyboarding! i feel like there’s more room to make error HAHA it’s very relaxing and FUN! i hope to learn better ways to vary my brush strokes and get an actual technique down

and RENDERING. MWAH. i love slathering all my pieces in vintage textures as we ALL know. to be honest i feel i used to PARTLY use it as a crutch to mask flaws in my pieces, but i’ve grown out of that and don’t rely on it nearly as much. i love the graphic design trends from the ‘20s-‘60s (hell, even earlier—i LOVE comics from the ‘10s and before that!!) and seeking to emulate that same off kilter quirkiness yet inviting warmth in my own art is something i’m very passionate about. i’m still on a quest to nail the PERFECT vintage look, i feel like i haven’t gotten it as convincing as i’d like to but i know i’ll get there!! whether it’s putting the right textures and scuff marks or trying to misalign halftones on my more comic inspired pieces, i adore it all!

i guess i’d have to say i don’t love inking as much as the rest, but that’s because i haven’t found the right brush yet. only just this year have i really experimented with my inking (AKA adding weight LOL) and i find it a lot more enjoyable that way!! my hands can be shaky so i’m always most critical of my lines but i’m learning to embrace them and have fun!

I REALLY DO LOVE IT ALL… the art process is very very very important to me and i genuinely enjoy every step of it! i love art, and i love searching for inspiration for art! every aspect has their own unique quirks that i try to embrace as much as i can—i’ve been trying to make an effort to be more varied in my art just because i CAN! i used to see having multiple styles as a weakness for myself, but now i’ve embraced it as a love letter to art and i’m always itching to experiment and try new things.

THIS IS WAY LONGER THAN IT NEEDS TO BE but i love this question so much!! so thought provoking 🥲 i just love art so much it’s hard to pick a favorite part!! they all have their specialties!

#anonymous #my art prof in college who was the sweetest old man i’ll remember him for the rest of my life he always said that it was clear i prioritized #the process over the final product and that really really stuck with me so i hold that close 🥲

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

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For mermay, could you do 11 for sternclay? sfw please :) I love your prompt fills!

Thank you so much! Here you go. The prompt was “royalty” and I based Barclay on a basking shark and Joseph on a mimic octopus.

For the last two weeks, Joseph has been hearing what a difficult assignment he’s taken, and how most bodyguards wouldn’t take it even with the handsome pay. That the princes of Sylvain are impossible to guard, that they’ve gone through more security staff than sharks go through teeth (this part he knows to be true from the records he’s found).

Two days in, he’s starting to wonder if there’s been some sort of mistake.

Now, had he received Duck’s assignment, he’d understand the warnings. Prince Indrid, seer to the court of Sylvain, has already shown himself to be a strange mixture of aloof, demanding, and spoiled.

But Prince Barclay?

When Joseph was shown into his chambers and introduced, the instant the servants left Barclay swam over to him with a nervous smile. He asked if there was anything he could get him, was he hungry, would he like something to drink? Joseph accepted that last offer, curious to see how the prince would react if called upon to perform hospitality rather than simply offer it.

What happened was Barclay swam into an anteroom and came back with a carved coral platter with mother of pearl pitcher and goblets, pouring Joseph’s first before taking a glass for himself.

That set the tone for his behavior, and it hasn’t changed in the week since he’s arrived. The prince, charcoal tailed and a little shy, seems to view Joseph as just another mer to talk to. When in the castle, Barclay will ask him his thoughts on the historical and political scrolls his tutors assign him as part of his preparation to one day inherit the kingdom. Out in public, Joseph shifts into the background, watches everything with care while the prince swims behind his parents or, more often, their advisors.

“Do you think there was some kind of misunderstanding with his previous guard?” Joseph asks Duck over a late night dinner in the hall, which allows them to keep their eyes on their charges rooms.

“I mean, he seems like a nice enough fella to me. But nice fellas can still be sneaky; from what Ned told me, Barclay’s an escape artist. Think he might be lurin you into a false sense of security.”

“And I think trusting what Ned Chicane tells you is a terrible way to gather intel.”

Movement from Indrid’s room and Duck stiffens, listening, then relaxes.

“Shouldn’t you go check on that?”

“Nah, he’s just pacin, does that a lot, especially at night.”

“He really should get some sleep.”

Duck shrugs, “He should. But treatin him like a child is the wrong way to go. He knows he oughta rest, my remindin him will just annoy him. Besides,” Duck raises an eyebrow, “maybe you better be more focused on your prince.”

“He turned in an hour ago.”

“You sure?”

Something in Duck’s voice sends worry bubbling through his guts, “I’ll check now, just to be positive.”

The bed is empty, the prince nowhere to be found.

“Shit!” He darts back into the dim hallway, “he’s gone, I’ve got to find him and fast. How, how in name of the deep did you know?”

“Call it a hunch. Indrid likes to play the ‘I know somethin you don’t’ game, but if I let ‘im play it long enough, he let’s somethin important slip out.”

“Shit” Joseph says again, “I, if anyone asks-”

“I’ll say I ain’t seen you or Barclay since dinner. Ain’t a lie.” Duck winks and Joseph flashes him a quick smile before swimming back into the prince’s rooms. There’s only one door and no secret passageways, (he checked for those himself), so the windows it is. His tentacles can sense Barclay’s trail, faint but unmistakable, and he follows it until he’s almost at the shore. Then it’s gone.

He spends the next three hours feverishly tracing and retracing his path and keeping his panic to a minimum. When he spies a figure swimming towards him, he backs against a rock, planning to hide until they pass.

This plan changes the instant he registers who it is.

“Gaahfuck” Barclay catches his yell quickly and muffles it down to a hiss, “what the hell Joseph, you scared me.”

“And you just made me spend three hours swimming around and wondering if my charge had been abducted. I’d say that makes us even.”

“Didn’t make you do anything.” Barclay grumbles as Joseph turns them towards the palace.

He sighs, “No, I guess technically you didn’t. But I take my job very, very seriously. If this past week hasn’t demonstrated that sufficiently, maybe tonight has. When you disappear into the night, it’s my duty to follow.” He catches brown eyes studying him warily and adds, “I’m not doing it to be punitive or steal your freedom, or even because their majesties told me to; I’m doing it because you’re under my protection.”

The prince nods but says nothing else until they return to his rooms.

“Joseph? I’m uh, I’m sorry. For scaring you. You got farther than anyone else did, none of them ever tracked me that well, if they noticed I was gone at all. I figured you wouldn’t notice, so you wouldn’t worry. So, yeah. I’m sorry.”

Joseph knows a false apology when he hears it, and this is as far from one as a desert is from the deep sea.

“Apology accepted, my prince. But Barclay” he levels the other mer with a stern gaze, tries not to notice his cheeks tinging pink the longer he holds it, “don’t do it again.”

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

“Are you certain we cannot trade?” Indrid’s fin ripples with agitation as he draws.

“Nope, Joseph is a good bodyguard.”

“And your crush on him is not governing your answer in the slightest?” Indrid smirks but doesn’t look up.

“No idea what you’re talking about. Besides, Duck seems nice.” Barclay stretches his other arm, then pauses, “wait, fuck, is he hurting you or something?”

“No. On the contrary, he is annoyingly concerned with my wellbeing.”

“That’s his job.”

“It was the job of all his predecessors as well, but all it took was ordering them around or demanding things in the right tone before they were letting me do as I pleased. I wanted to go to that bar on the edge of town last night and do you know what he did? He told me no, because word had gotten around that it was a spot I frequented and someone there might try to take me hostage.”

“...And?”

“And, and then when I tried to leave anyway he blocked the door with that blasted muscular tail and obnoxiously charming face and wouldn’t move! Then he told me he would if I looked at the future told him we’d both be safe if we went. It turns out he was right, the chances of violence were high.”

“I mean, you don’t like places that loud anyway-”

“It’s the principle of the thing.” Indrid sighs, “so we stayed in and I made him read to me as penance but he was very good at it and I fell asleep within a half hour.”

Barclay is trying hard not to laugh, only because he knows how hard it is for his brother to admit such things. And because, given what else he knows of Duck, the mer might be exactly what his brother needs. If nothing else, Barclay hopes Duck might be observant enough to notice what’s there, not just what his brother tries to toss up like so much sand in hopes of obscuring the truth.

Indrid goes back to his drawings. Barclay can remember the first time their ministers caught Indrid capturing the futures this way and scolded him, saying the futures to look at were only those the court asked him to, nothing else. Indrid had explained, in a number of different ways, that this was how he could keep the images from overwhelming him, but still they insisted he stop. It wasn’t until he drew on his status and threw a near fit that they relented. That was a lesson he never forgot.

Barclay hopes todays lessons will be more enjoyable. One of the jobs of a royal bodyguard is to train the princes in self-defense. When Joseph and Duck enter the gym through kelp curtains, Barclay can’t help but be mesmerized by the poise with which his tentacles move across the ground.

“Good morning, your highness. And to you as well, your highness.” Joseph bows to them each in turn, “Barclay, today you and I will be working with swords while Duck and Prince Indrid work on hand to hand combat.”

“What?” Indrid looks up, red eyes wide, “Barclay is the one who trains hand to hand, not me.”

“Which is exactly why we gotta mix things up. You need all the modes of defense you can get. Unless of course you’re, uh, afraid you can’t take me.” Duck raises an eyebrow at Indrid.

His brother says nothing, simply grabs his bodyguard and pulls him towards the designated room, calling, “I’ll see you after lunch!”

He and Joseph trade an amused look, then swim to the shelf of blunted training weapons. They’re still bone or sharks tooth, but they’ve been sanded down so no one can get hurt.

“Now, you mentioned you’ve done some sword work, so am I right that you know how to hold this safely?”

“Yep.” Barclay takes the sword, swimming over to one of the Xs on the floor.

“Good. To keep things fair for now, I won’t use my tentacles for anything other than swimming.” Joseph takes his position on the opposite X and lifts his sword, “ready?”

Barclay nods and then immediately parries as Joseph lunges with a burst of speed. He recovers quickly, and they begin an elegant back and forth, bubbles and stray sand swirling through the air as they spin and dodge around one another. Joseph keeps up a steady stream of commentary, either positive or instructive, and Barclay is having a hard time ignoring the the thrill he gets every time Joseph pulls off a graceful maneuver.

When they break, both a little winded, there’s a crash from the next room.

“Fuck! You okay, your highness?” Duck sounds concerned.

“Yes, now try that again, I am going to get this right.”

Joseph glances at him, “Should we-”

“Nah. He kinda sounds like he’s enjoying himself.”

The other mer studies him, “Are you?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Then I’m going to ask you to stop holding back. I can’t train you effectively if I don’t know what your skill level actually is.”

He’s learned not to insist Joseph is mis-observing things when he’s actually observing them perfectly; the other mer is too sharp for that.

“I...I just don’t want to hurt you.”

Joseph swims close, sets a hand on his shoulder, “For starters, these are fake swords, and I’m not a bad fighter. But more than that, I suspect there’s a very impressive swordsman under those scales.”

They take their positions and when Joseph gives the signal Barclay attacks with all the force his tail can muster. Joseph dodges easily but makes an approving noise. Then he grins, the expression downright rakish, and attacks with such precision and speed that Barclay barely manages to counter him.

His focus narrows down to the fight, to watching Joseph’s body for every sign of movement, every twitch of muscle and tentacle. Finally, he sees his opening and drives the other mer backwards until he’s trapped, back to the rocky grey wall.

“Well” Barclay pants, images of finishing the fight with a kiss banging about his mind, “what do you think of that, Joseph?”

Two tentacles rise, plucking both swords from their fighters hands as his bodyguard murmurs, “I’m impressed.”

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

It’s been a month and a half since Barclay slipped out of his room, and while he’s tried twice more, Joseph has been ready each time. Tonight, however, he’s opting for a new strategy.

He bids the prince goodnight, well aware he’ll swim out the window around moonrise. Then he waits just across from the window, skin and tentacles camouflaged with the rocks. Right on time, Barclay emerges, swimming quickly and quietly towards the shore. Joseph follows at a safe distance, forces himself to focus on the prince’s likely path rather than on how handsome he looks in the moonlight.

When they reach the shallows Barclay pauses, slips a woven bracelet onto his wrist, and kicks towards the surface.

Who in the name of the wide ocean gave him legs?

Joseph’s physiology allows him to crawl across the tidepools, keeping his eyes on Barclay as the prince retrieves a set of clothes hidden behind a rock and walks into the small town of Kepler, turning towards a restaurant on the pier.

Someone had to enchant that bracelet for him, has to know where he’s going while using it. And that someone has to be a mer he trusts.

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

“Yes. I made him the bracelet. What of it?” Indrid says coolly.

“Indrid, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?” Joseph throws his arms and several tentacles in the air.

“Hold up” Duck turns to his prince, “Indrid, I’m guessin Barclay probably asked for a reason, right?”

“Indeed, but if I say what it was, you will reveal it to our parents and ministers and take it away from him.”

“I won’t. I promise. I, I just want to help.”

Indrid narrows his eyes. Then, remarkably, he turns to Duck and cocks his head. Duck nods.

“Very well. And yes, I will grant you that favor you’re about to ask for…”

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

How do humans manage with these things? His tentacles tell him so much more than these useless feet do.

Joseph makes his wobbly way into Kepler, following Barclay’s trail down the pier, the one he’s walked the last two weeks while Joseph intermittently clung to the nearby wooden supports or fencing to make sure his prince wasn’t in danger.

Even with Indrid’s explanation, the room he enters is a surprise. Several counters with what he knows humans call “stoves” sitting on them, each manned by one or two people.

“Hello there” An affable older man in a multi-colored shirt approaches him, “you here for the class?”

“Yes.”

“Great! Hmmm, since you’re new, better pair you with someone, just to be safe. Follow me.”

Joseph isn’t afraid of much. But when he sees who the man intends to pair him with, he almost jumps out the window and flees back to the sea.

“You’re in luck, gonna pair you with my best student. Barclay, this is…”

“Joseph”

“Joseph’s first class with us, so I’m handin him over to you. Make me proud.”

Barclay isn’t blinking, but he manages to say, “sure thing, Thacker.”

The older man nods, pleased, and makes his way towards the kitchen set-up at the front of the room, greeting people as he goes.

“What the fuck, Joseph?” Barclay keeps his voice low, “did Janelle give you legs just so you could come drag me out of class?”

“No, no not at all. Indrid did this.”

“What?”

Joseph takes a deep breath, “Barclay, I told you that first week that I’m here to protect you. The way I see it, I’ll do a much better job if I come with you to something that clearly matters to you, rather than force you to hide it from me. No one knows about this but Indrid and Duck.”

Barclay seems stunned, doesn’t say anything as Thacker opens the class and instructs them on how to make something called “marinara” to go on “pasta.” The prince stays silent until they’re working on the cookies the human is also having them make.

“Here, it’s easier to cut them out like this.” He sets his hand atop Joseph’s, pressing and shaking it so the dough comes away from the stone slab in the shape of a heart.

“Thank you.”

Barclay smiles at him, and the kitchen grows hotter.

When everything is done cooking, they sit on stools at their station, eating the fruits of their labor. Barclay is animatedly describing the pie they made last week, occasionally stopping to chat with some of the other students. He looks so happy, and Joseph decides he will not tell their majesties about this even if they torture him. Or fire him.

As they walk back along the beach, Barclay explaining all the things he’s learned about cooking and how much he wishes they’d let him cook at the palace rather than insist it’s beneath his station, the prince takes his hand.

“Humans do this when they’re waling on the beach together. I think it’s to keep them from getting separated if they get hit by a wave.

Joseph is pretty sure that’s not the reason, but he’s not about to say so now.

They dive back under the waves, removing their charms and swimming side by side in the dark water. Once they’re safely inside, Barclay turns to him, beaming, “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Even if I wasn’t invited?”

“Yeah. It, uh, it means a lot to me that you wanna learn about the stuff that matters to me. That you wanna know the real me.”

“Of course I do.”

Barclay swims dangerously close, “You, uh, do you wanna know another part?”

He nods. Barclay leans in and presses their lips together. Joseph manages to keep his hands himself, but his tentacles have other ideas, curling protectively around the prince’s tail and waist. The instant Barclay pulls back with the most adorable sigh in the sea, Joseph forces them to return to their normal position.

The prince gives him a final, shy smile and whispers, “‘Night, Joseph. And thanks for everything.”

#I will probably make this into a human au fic #sternclay #agent stern/barclay #mermay #mermay fills #taz amnesty #bodyguard au

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swaps55 · 4 years

Text

Cafune

Shepard’s cabin is a hell of an upgrade over crew quarters. Considerably less foot traffic, for one, private bathroom for another. The dim lighting alone is heaven. It’s always too bright on the crew deck. Hell, Kaidan even kinda likes the fish.

But it’s the company he really enjoys.

He shifts in his spot on the couch, nestling a little deeper against Shepard, who tightens the arm looped around his waist in response. Kaidan is still at least attempting to read through the reports that have been piling up. But Shepard has spent the last several minutes ignoring his datapad in favor of gazing at Kaidan.

It’s…nice. Really nice. Especially when the datapad gets tossed aside entirely and Shepard’s fingers start carding through his hair.

A smile curves Kaidan’s lips. “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” Shepard says softly. “I missed this, you know.”

“Touching my hair?”

“Mmm. Also the rest of you.” He presses a kiss to Kaidan’s temple.

A contented sigh slips out of Kaidan’s throat. “Believe me, I missed it, too.”

Shepard’s fingers continue working, making the datapad in Kaidan’s hand less and less interesting. But then they still, followed by a deliberate intake of breath. After a few seconds, Shepard exhales and starts moving his fingers again.

“What is it?” Kaidan asks.

Another pause. “Nothing.”

Kaidan hides a smile and keeps skimming his datapad, even though at this point he isn’t reading a word. Shepard doesn’t hesitate to say what’s on his mind. Only Sam does. “Uh huh. Well, whenever you change your mind, let me know.”

Shepard grunts. But a minute later he drops his hand and shifts his position a little. “Can I ask you something?”

There it is.

“Of course.”

More shifting. “While, uh, while I was dead, did you…?”

Kaidan tightens up without meaning to. Those two years are never going to be an easy subject, especially when Shepard throws the word dead around so easily.

As if sensing his discomfort, Shepard draws Kaidan a little closer to him. “Never mind.”

Kaidan sets the datapad down and settles against him. Shepard’s death certainly isn’t a pleasant topic, but bridging it while tucked in his arms…helps. “No, go on. Did I what?”

“It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“Sam. There are things about…that I’d rather not talk about. But doesn’t mean we can’t talk about it at all. What do you want to know?”

He clears his throat, expression a little sheepish. “Just…wondering if you, ah…met anyone.”

Kaidan blinks. Well. That’s…not what he expected. “Are you…asking if I dated anyone after Alchera?”

“I mean, it’s fine if you did,” he says quickly. “Two years is a long time. People move on.”

A hoarse laugh escapes Kaidan’s throat. Move on. He’d spent the first year in a fugue, and the second convincing himself that functioning wasn’t enough; he had to live, too. He hadn’t quite mastered it by the time Hackett dropped the Freedom’s Progress file in his lap.

Move on. Everyone told him he would, eventually. Some days he’d even believed them.

“Sam…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Shepard says, voice gentle. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Why do you ask?” Kaidan asks, curious. If there’s one thing they’ve generally done right, it’s believe in the way they feel about each other. Well. Once they’d mustered the courage to say how they felt about each other, anyway.

Besides, dating is all but a foreign language to Sam. Not that Kaidan has a much better track record of it.

Shepard’s fingers return to Kaidan’s scalp. Kaidan’s not sure if it’s meant to reassure him, or reassure Sam. “I guess…your thing with Joker reminded me…I’ll never know what kind of hell you really went through.”

Ah, right. The thing. While Shepard was with Cerberus, Joker apparently hadn’t mentioned just how contentious things had gotten after Alchera.

“If you found something, er, someone, who made it a little less hellish,” he continues, “Well.”

Kaidan closes his eyes and revels in the gentle churn of Shepard’s fingers. “I don’t really…date, Sam.”

Shepard makes a noncommittal sound.

Kaidan opens his eyes, sensing a challenge. “Come on. In the five years we served together, did I ever date anyone?”

A hesitant look crosses Shepard’s face. It takes Kaidan a moment to understand it, but when he gets there he chuckles in disbelief.

“You’re actually going to say the researcher we ran into on Arcturus, aren’t you.”

Shepard withdraws his fingers from Kaidan’s hair and gestures. “Come on, you can’t argue that wasn’t a date.”

“We had drinks,” Kaidan reminds him. “Once. At your insistence. You literally wingmaned me.”

“Yeah, well, I thought I was doing you a favor,” Shepard grumbles. “The one that got away, and all that.”

“She was not the one that got away,” he says with amusement.

Shepard sniffs. “That’s good, because she was not right for you.”

“Then why…” Kaidan’s eyes widen as realization dawns. “You were jealous.”

“What, of her?”

“Yes. You were jealous.” He chuckles again as the pieces fall into place. “You were in a horrible mood when I came to find you after. Since you wingmaned me I thought you’d want to hear how it went, but you nearly took my head off. I thought you were pissed at Pendergrass for being impossible to take out in public. But you were pissed at me, weren’t you?”

Guilt flashes across his eyes. “No.”

“Sam.”

His brow furrows. “Ok…in retrospect…I was probably jealous.”

“You insisted I buy her a drink!”

“Yeah, because you kept talking about how much you enjoyed her company when she was…researching you.”

Kaidan sighs in exasperation. “She was researching my implant. We were friends. Saw each other a few times and went our separate ways. Well before you and I met, I might add.”

“You were still into her,” Shepard insists. “Come on, I know you.”

“You ass, I was into you,” Kaidan says with a laugh. “I didn’t want to have drinks with her. You’re the one I wanted to spend that evening with.”

A smirk curves his lips. “Yeah, well, I know that now.”

Kaidan shakes his head. “So if I’d come into your quarters that night and kissed you instead of telling you about my so-called date, would that have put you in a better mood?”

Shepard grins. “Why? Did you think about kissing me?”

“When didn’t I,” Kaidan mutters.

“Boy you had it bad for me, didn’t you?” Shepard says, tracing Kaidan’s jaw with a finger.

Kaidan raises an eyebrow, not about to give in to the gesture of affection. “I’m sorry, who shot out the window of a quarantine lab and exposed themselves to a bio engineered virus for no reason?”

Shepard squawks in protest. “What do you mean no reason? You were in that room!”

“And I’d already been exposed,” Kaidan points out.

“So I was just supposed to leave you in there was some deadly virus? I kinda like to think I’d have done that you whether I loved you or not. You think I would have left Garrus in there?”

Kaidan holds up a finger. “No. No, no. If it had been Garrus you would have used that tactical head of yours for at least a nanosecond, realized the damage was already done and taken the extra five minutes to go through the decontamination process. Or at the very least, put your helmet on to avoid exposure. But no, you shot out the glass and came after me because you were in love with me and didn’t stop to think. Or grab a helmet.”

Shepard sputters, then glares. “Ok. You might, might, have a point.”

A slow grin spreads over Kaidan’s face. “And because of it you had to spend all that time with me in quarantine. You literally took care of me when I felt like I was going to die.”

Shepard draws Kaidan back to his chest. “Kinda thought you were going to die. Scared me to death.”

“Yeah,” Kaidan says. “I won’t lie…I was glad you were there. Even if it was a little humiliating to be that incapacitated around my commanding officer.”

“I’ll take you at your worst over most people at their best,” Shepard says. His fingers return to Kaidan’s hair, and Kaidan leans into the touch with a hum. “Like hell I was going to let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” Kaidan says, and it’s true. As reckless and unnecessary as that stunt had been, the sound of that glass shattering followed by Shepard’s voice in his ear had made him feel…safe.

Shepard clears his throat again, shifting uncomfortably. “Is it, uh, is it weird if I admit that I might have…done this a little, when your fever spiked?”

“Touched my hair?”

“Yeah.”

Kaidan chuckles softly. “Thought I dreamed that.”

“No,” he says after a pause. “I just…I don’t know. This is probably really incriminating, but I always had this urge to run my fingers through your hair.”

Kaidan smirks. “You can admit you just wanted to mess it up.”

Shepard huffs.

“You loved me,” Kaidan says with a shrug. “You may not have known it, but you did.”

Shepard nods. “In retrospect, it was really fucking obvious, wasn’t it?”

“Little bit, yeah.”

“In my defense, I have literally never been attracted to anyone before. How was I supposed to know that’s what it felt like?”

Kaidan snorts. “So it never occurred to you that being jealous when I went on a date, or unnecessarily exposing yourself to a deadly virus because I was in trouble, and wanting to touch my hair all the time, might mean you were in love with me.”

“Yeah, the porch swing also should have been a clue,” he muses.

Kaidan rearranges himself to meet Shepard’s gaze head on. “You mean back at the orchard? When I feel asleep and drooled on your shoulder?”

Shepard nearly shoves him off the couch. “So you admit it. You’ve been denying that happened for years.”

Kaidan narrows his eyes as something else clicks into place. “Did you touch my hair then, too?”

Shepard blinks. “This is about you, not me.”

“You did.”

He rolls his eyes. “Ok, maybe…very briefly…I might have.”

Kaidan laughs and settles back against him. “I knew it.”

Shepard grumbles, but snakes an arm around him once more. “Well if it was so goddamn obvious why didn’t you just kiss me and get on with it?”

“Because how could I be sure?”

Shepard stares at him. “Boy, kinda hard to believe we saved the galaxy, isn’t it?”

Kaidan grins. “You said it yourself. How good can first timers really be?”

“Not first timers anymore, are we?” Shepard asks, in a soft voice that puts a flutter in Kaidan’s chest.

Kaidan shakes his head.

Shepard’s fingers flirt with his hair once more. “So…you didn’t actually answer my question.”

The flutter dissipates. “I didn’t date anyone, Sam.”

He runs a thumb along Kaidan’s hairline, expression growing solemn. “You know that would have been okay, right? You know…I’d want you to be happy.”

Kaidan catches his hand, heart jumping into his throat and I’ll be fine echoing in his ears. “Sam.”

So that’s what this whole thing’s about. The next Alchera. The next Mars. The next time they inevitably gamble their lives and lose. Kaidan swallows and tries to pull away from him. “This…this is one of the things I don’t want to talk about.”

“Yeah,” Shepard says, keeping him close and cupping his cheek. “But you need to hear it. I want you to be happy. Always. Whatever that means.”

“I am happy,” Kaidan argues. “With you.”

“And believe me,” Shepard assures him, “I hope that never changes. But I just…need you to know.”

Kaidan’s hands shake as he slides back into his waiting arms. “Please don’t talk about this.”

“Ok,” Shepard murmurs, wrapping him up tight. Kaidan closes his eyes and breathes him in. Solid. Real. Alive. And his. “How about, instead, we talk about all those midnight meals you fixed over the years?”

“What about them?” Kaidan asks, palm slipping under his shirt in search of a heartbeat.

Shepard’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Started as just ‘hey, there’s a stash of peanut butter and crackers in a drawer if you need a pick me up.’ Next thing you were fixing full entrees in the middle of the night.”

“I was hungry,” Kaidan replies, hiding a small smile.

“Uh huh. You’re telling me the extra plate and fork you always had waiting had nothing to do with hoping I’d show up.”

“Mom always said that if I wanted to impress someone I should learn how to cook.”

Shepard nuzzles his neck before burying his fingers back in Kaidan’s hair. “Mmhmm. So you wanted to impress me, huh? Keep talking.”

Kaidan scoffs. “What, you want to try and tell me that you appearing like clockwork was pure coincidence?”

“You caught me,” Shepard concedes. “I fell in love with the Alenko family risotto recipe.”

Kaidan huffs. Shepard plants kisses up and down his throat, letting his corona flare just long enough to send a current through Kaidan’s nerves.

“Mmmm,” Kaidan murmurs, tilting his head back to give Shepard better access. “Must have been some risotto.”

“Yeah,” Shepard mumbles between kisses. “Except it turns out it definitely wasn’t the risotto I looked forward to all those nights.”

No. It wasn’t. For either of them. Eight years ago when Kaidan had walked into a bar on Arcturus and found Shepard sitting there, it was like something had just snapped into place. For both of them.

“Quarks,” Kaidan says softly.

Shepard pauses. “What?”

“Something Tali told me a long time ago,” Kaidan explains. “That certain types of quarks are tuned to one another on a quantum level, bonded across space and time. The more you pull them apart, the harder they try to snap back together.”

Shepard lifts his head and searches Kaidan’s face. Under Kaidan’s palm, Shepard heart beats strong and steady.

“I didn’t see anyone after Alchera,” Kaidan says. “It never occurred to me. Maybe…deep down I still felt that pull.” He runs a finger along Shepard’s cheek. “Because it turns out you were still out there.”

Shepard swallows, voice catching. “You are such a romantic. You know that?”

Kaidan’s gaze drifts to Shepard’s mouth. “Say it. Please?”

“I love you,” Shepard whispers.

Kaidan brushes a finger across Shepard’s lips. So many times he’d wanted to kiss them and hadn’t. So many times he’d wondered what it would be like and never had the courage to find out. So many chances they’d lost in the debris now buried under the snow on Alchera.

Not tonight. Tonight Kaidan kisses him slow and deep, drinking in every sigh, every soft sound that slips from his throat, reveling in the feel of Shepard’s fingers tangled in his hair. It won’t make up for all the times they’ve missed.

But it’s a start.

#mshenko #kaidan alenko #mass effect #my fic #i swear it's fluffy #and basically an apology for fugue #see?!?! everything's fine they're all fine #ok #they're MOSTLY fine

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barnesbabee · 4 years

Text

Alejandro || S.M

Pairing: Song Mingi x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

⚠ mentions of emotional abuse, mentions of cigarettes, violence, alcohol ⚠

Reblog the fuck out of this one please, it’s a big one. Enjoy xx

ᴀᴛᴇᴇᴢ x ʟᴀᴅʏ ɢᴀɢᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴘᴛ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ || ᴘ3

ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴀʟᴇᴊᴀɴᴅʀᴏ ᴍᴠ

You tried so, so hard for everything to be perfect. So why was everything shit!?

Sometimes, when the stress building up became too much you’d find yourself pathetically sitting in the shower, with the warm water running down your back and dripping from your hair while the black mascara stained your cheeks.

But you’d recompose yourself as quickly as you broke down. You had to maintain the pretty smile and the perfect front for all of the outsiders. You were ashamed, you didn’t want people to know about your situation, you dreaded that someday someone would understand the unbelievable amount of control going on inside those walls.

There was no love anymore. Unbeknownst to you, the romance would be gone the second he’d promised you his life.

Your husband had never gone as far as to hit you, but there were days that you felt as if it couldn’t get any worse. You were trapped and there was no sight of an escape.

The two of you were part of a very conservative community, therefore a divorce would only serve to put you under a bad light in everyone’s eyes, so you just stayed quiet and endured it, hoping that something would go well for you.

And it was a simple, stupid incident that set you on the road to freedom.

It was in your brother in law’s wedding.

Your head rested on your first while your index finger traced the curves of your fourth martini’s cup. You were beyond bored: the music was mostly slow and ballad-like, and unlike all of the other young girls or old ladies you didn’t feel like dancing with your ‘sweetheart’.

Alcohol-fueled tears brimmed in your eyes as you thought about your current situation, and how unfair it was, but before any of them could be spilled, someone spoke to you.

“You’re either too drunk or not drunk enough.”

Your gaze lifted to look at the tall man leaning against the bar’s counter. He had blonde hair (obviously not his natural colour) and shaved sides, which you thought was unusual, at least in a place like that.

“Somehow, both…” You told him with a sigh.

His deep voice was more noticeable when he chuckled. He sat down in the velvet stool next to yours and signaled the waiter to bring in two of whatever you were having.

You eyed him curiously. You could see some colour underneath the thin, white dress shirt. You couldn’t help but become curious about it.

“Do my arms pique your interest?” He asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow at you once he realized you were staring.

You cocked your head and looked him in the eye.

“I was just wondering what the colours were.”

The male quickly put his drink down to roll up his sleeves so he could proudly display his colourful, tattooed arms. He turned both of them so you could fully see the artwork, and you were truly mesmerized.

Just as you were about to comment on how beautiful they were, the groom came running in and pulled down the man’s sleeves to cover up the pretty drawings.

“Mingi you fucking idiot I told you not to show these. My mom already hates you enough!” The groom whisper-yelled, through gritted teeth as he smacked the back of you companion’s head.

Mingi raised his arms in defeat.

“I’m sorry man, I’ll keep them hidden.” He said jokingly.

The groom walked away as he signaled to Mingi that ‘he was watching him’. You laughed and took another sip of the drink he had kindly ordered for you.

“His mom hates you? Wow, you must be a nightmare…”

Mingi laughed and brushed his hair back with his hand.

Hot.

“Yeah… She kinda caught me smoking and she’s been trying to push us apart every since then.”

“Oh, a bad boy then?”

You winked at him playfully and laughed. After both of your laughs died down Mingi sucked in a breath and placed his hand high on your thigh. He leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“Are you into that?”

A weird yet pleasing sensation spread through your body, and an unwanted blush appeared in your cheeks.

He sat back where he was and brought his drink to his very appetizing lips once more, while locking his gaze with yours.

You snapped back to reality quickly. You raised your hand, showing the meaningless yet very real, gold wedding ring. You shrugged and gave him an apologetic look.

Mingi rolled his eyes and scoffed (much to your confusion).

“As if you’re content with your marriage.”

You looked at him, offended, as you couldn’t believe the nerve he had. You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“And what could possibly lead you to that conclusion?” You asked, indignant.

Mingi smirked.

“Well, for starters, the love of your life left you by yourself in a bar while every other couple is being corny on the dance floor, second, because if you weren’t the slightest bit interested in me you would’ve already left, and last but definitely not least,” Mingi leaned dangerously close, so you could hear his victorious whisper “if you were really happy with him you would’ve swatted my hand away the second it laid on your thigh.”

You suddenly became very aware of his touch, and his fingers burned on your skin. You stood up abruptly and walked quickly towards the exit. You felt like the air was choking you and you needed some air.

Before you could walk very further, Mingi gripped your wrist for a second.

“The tattoo parlor in front of the mall, find me there.”

And just like that, he let you go.

“You fucking bitch! You’re so goddamn worthless! I swear to God the only reason why I don’t kill you is because I don’t want to go to jail over something as useless as you.”

You snapped. It had finally become too much to take on all by yourself. The shock and fright you felt prevented you from crying, or from doing anything really. You just stood in the middle of the living room, staring at him wide-eyed and frozen, not sure of what to do.

You were only able to turn around and start running when your husband stepped towards you. The fear enveloping you pushed you to turn around and run out of the house to the only destination you trusted: the tattoo shop.

How sad was it that the person you trusted the most was someone you had spoken to once?

Life isn’t always kind…

Your legs almost went numb from all the running, and the cold air hitting your face felt as if it was slicing your skin. When you eventually spotted the red, neon open sign shining in the dark street you stopped.

Was this even a good idea?

You were way past caring when you hurriedly pushed the heavy door open and entering the shop.

The little wind chimes hanging right beside the door announced your arrival.

“I’m sorry, but we’re closed now if you’d like you can return tomorrow at 9am.” The familiar, deep voice warned.

You were a little unsure of what to say. Fuck, what could you say? What, in this situation, would be acceptable to say?

“Mingi?” You called, simple and straightforward.

His blonde head quickly peeked from the back of the store. He revealed his whole body as he walked towards you.

“Wow, I didn’t actually expect you to show up, if I’m being honest I-”

You shut him off by standing on your tippy-toes and pulling him down to kiss you. It was a very rough and sudden kiss, and to say you were just as shocked as Mingi about your behavior was no understatement.

When you pulled away Mingi’s hands rested on your hips. You two shared the most intense staring contest as your faces were just mere centimeters apart.

“Please…” You begged “I just need to feel something.”

The man immediately kissed you, as if he was in a hurry, as if he’d lose you if he didn’t do it right then and there. It started slow and passionate, moving to a much rough pace soon after.

The kiss was messy and sloppy, a type of kiss that you had just found out you loved.

“That’s all you needed to say, doll.” Mingi told you as he caressed your cheek, once you pulled away for air.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him.

Mingi hit a button on the wall that turned off the big, shiny sign outside. He grabbed your hand and lead you to a small room in the back. It only had a red couch, a mini-fridge, a microwave and a dark-wood coffee table with a pack of cigarettes and a silver ashtray on top of it. The room reeked of smoke, but that surely wouldn’t be your focus.

When the door clicked behind the two of you, he pushed you against it. His hands roamed all over your body, hungry for every curve, as his lips worked on your neck.

You felt embarrassed at how quickly he got you moaning. All it took were a couple bites and a cheeky whimper had already left your mouth.

You slapped a hand over your mouth when his large hand found its way inside your underwear, but he was quick to remove it. He pecked your lips sweetly.

“Oh no doll, I wanna hear every little moan that comes out of that pretty mouth of yours, okay?”

He caressed your lower lip with his thumb, and all you could do was comply with his request. Mingi picked you up bridal style and threw you on the beat-up, surprisingly comfortable couch.

His lips devoured yours hungrily as he desperately undid your jeans. Mingi’s hair was messy from the way your fingers played with it, but you two were far from caring about appearances, you were too absorbed in each other’s moans to pay attention to it.

Mingi gripped the waistband of your jeans and pulled them down roughly. Your underwear came off right after, and you watched as he threw them somewhere in the room as he worked in undoing his sweatpants.

He noticed the way you closed your legs slightly, a little embarrassed about the situation. Mingi smiled softly and spread you with one of his hands.

The male leaned down and kissed the spot just below your ear.

“You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You blushed at the comment, more than you already were, and pushed away the thought that Mingi had made you feel more like a woman in twenty minutes than your husband had in your whole marriage.

Mingi lined up his cock with your entrance and waited for your consent. You gripped the cushions in anticipation, and nodded.

Once he had the green card, Mingi bottomed inside of you, and moved slowly. When your face started twisting with pleasure, Mingi sped up. He hovered over you, each hand on the sides of your head, accentuating how much bigger he was than you, how tiny and secure he made you feel.

He lost control over his body, and he could no longer regulate the way he thrust into you. It was wild and violent, something you’d never experienced before, something you now loved.

You gripped Mingi’s shoulder, leaving clear nail marks on him (but little did you know he loved them), as you moaned and whimpered underneath him.

“F-fuck I think I’m gonna cum Mingi-”

The way you said his name made his cock twitch inside of you, and he nearly came, but Mingi was focused on making you cum first.

He bit on your neck once more, carefully as to not leave any noticeable marks, and the mix of feelings combined the desperation you felt made you climax, and you didn’t hold back in the way you moaned his name as you walls tightened around his member.

Mingi immediately pulled out, releasing all over your stomach and inner thighs in the process.

You both didn’t move for a second, both trying to catch your breaths. And although it never took Mingi too long to regain his energy, he surely was enjoying the work of art in front of him.

From that night on, you had to pretend you were miserable. You had to hide your joy and glee from your husband so he wouldn’t catch onto your unbelievable happiness.

Mingi treated you like he only had eyes for you. He treated you like you were the only one in the world. He treated you like a human, he respected you. That’s all you could ask for in a man, and so your little tattoo shop visits became longer, and more often. It became hard to hide, but every bit of it was worth it.

You’d often find yourself smiling, at the thought of Mingi’s silly jokes or crazy antics that never failed to amuse you, and you’d been caught once or twice by your husband, but it was never anything significant for him to suspect something else.

Everything almost went down the drain when you and Mingi ran into each other in a café, justly when you went out with your husband. You tried to avoid him, because you were sure he wouldn’t remember how your ‘significant other’ worked, but it was no good.

The second he laid eyes on you, a wide smile spread across his face, and suddenly it was as if the sun was shining inside the café.

You wanted to run into his arms and kiss him as a hello, but you couldn’t. You maintained a serious expression and shook your head negatively, but it was no use.

“Y/N! Hi!” The man greeted you.

You immediately panicked, as the grip your husband had on you tightened.

“Y/N, baby” the nickname didn’t sit well when he said it “who is this?”

Although his voice was sweet in front of strangers, you could sense the undertone.

You rummaged through your head, trying to find a passable excuse.

“Well, Mingi was at your brother’s wedding and he approached me because he needed some legal advice concerning his shop.”

Mingi was a little confused, but he went ahead and fed the lie.

“Oh, well then I’ll let you discuss that while I go wash my hands, Y/N find us a table.”

He never said please…

You waited for him to be in an acceptable distance so you could comfortably talk to Mingi.

“Don’t call my name, Mingi!”

“What!? Why?”

You held the bridge of your nose between your index finger and your thumb.

“Listen-” you looked towards the bathroom door, and your husband was coming back “I’ll explain later tonight, okay?”

Mingi was visibly upset, but still agreed.

The clock on the wall ticked slower when Mingi waited for you, or so it seemed. A minute without you felt like an hour for him, he was absolutely head over heels for you, and most of the time of your face and your laugh was all that was present in his head.

You were just intoxicating.

When the wind chimes echoed through the shop, Mingi immediately peeled his body from the couch and went to meet you.

You both shyly smiled at each other, as if you were two teenagers in love for the first time.

Mingi grabbed your hips and brought you forward, pressing your lips together softly.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

They weren’t dry hello’s, no, but bashful ones instead.

You gripped onto his biceps and bit your lip, unsure of the correct way to approach him about it.

“Mingi, listen, you have to pretend you don’t know me in public…”

He furrowed his eyebrows together and cocked his head.

“What?”

You sighed, a little sad about having to explain the motives behind your request.

“We have to pretend to be strangers in public Mingi, you know how my husband gets and-”

“Then leave him! I don’t understand!”

You didn’t like the way he cut you off, to say the dumbest thing of all, on top of that.

“Do you think I wouldn’t have already if I could!? What would I do then!?”

“Live with me! Come with me! We still have our whole lives ahead os us Y/N! I love you and it hurts seeing you being mistreated yet still settling for it!” He yelled, gripping onto you as if he was afraid you were slipping away.

“I know that we are young and I know that you may love me, but I can’t live like this anymore Mingi, I have a life already built, I have a job and if I leave him everything will change and I will-”

Mingi shut you up with a kiss.

“And what, Y/N? Are you like them? Are you like those stuck up motherfuckers that side-eye me because I dye my hair and wear leather jackets, hm? Do you want to have a nine to five job, have kids, be stuck in a marriage and then die knowing that the most fun thing you ever did in your life was fool around with a tattoo artist for a couple of weeks!?” He exclaimed, visibly frustrated, as he stepped away from you.

“I want a secure life! I want the guarantee that tomorrow I’m not gonna starve! And if that means that I’m just like my parents then maybe I am!”

“Y/N you know damn well why you’re not like all of these people! Why won’t you let me have you!? Is it because I live in a flat, not a house? It is because I buy my clothes on Primark, not Tommy Hilfiger!? Is it because I have a bike instead of a car!?”

“It’s because I don’t fucking know what to do! The life I live is miserable but at least I know that I’m not gonna be struggling tomorrow…”

There was a long silence. A long, heavy silence. Mingi placed his hands on his hips and huffed. He looked around for a second, before laying his eyes on you again. It was like talking to a wall, he couldn’t understand how comfort won over happiness, and it stressed him out.

“Give me one reason, one good reason, that’ll make me walk out that door with no regrets of leaving you.” He said, pointing at the glass exit.

You looked at him. There was no reason. There was absolutely no reason as to why you should stay in that place. A comfortable life didn’t compensate for the fact that you had been threatened and mistreated almost every day.

Upon hearing your silence, Mingi stepped towards you and cupped your face, making you look at him.

“Exactly, you can’t, this plave isn’t for us. Run away with me Y/N, let’s leave, I promise I’ll make you happy for the rest of your life…”

You didn’t know if it was the rush, the adrenaline, the glisten in his eyes or the sheer adoration you felt for him, but you kissed his lips, and grabbed the extra helmet for his bike, with no further questions.

“Next you need to let me tattoo you.” He said, as you two got on the bike with whatever you had in your pockets.

You chuckled, encircling his waist with your arms.

“In your dreams, big boy.”

“I’m already living my dreams.”

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 4 years

Text

Knot In Love - Alpha!Dean x Omega! Reader

A/N: Part Eighteen is back. Again, where it’s a daily thing? I am not tagging anyone new. 3pm is the magical time, usually. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy one of my favorites <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Series Warnings: Forced mating. Knotting. Alpha/Omega dynamics. Witchcraft (more based on real craft than Hollywood). Angst. Etc. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: Roughly 5,700

“No one's gonna fight for me.” The girl's voice echoed out to the hall you were trailing down. Just behind the men. “I don't matter.”

“Of course you don't matter,” The prim retort was louder. Filled with contempt as she talked down to the already vulnerable prisoner. Angels were supposed to be good. That's what everyone preached in the every day world. The more you were exposed to them, the less you believed it. “But, they think you do. They'll show. And when they do? We'll kill them and take the boy.”

You hated playing into her hands. However, there wasn't much choice. Kaia was necessary. And even if she wasn't? Jack wouldn't be able to live with himself if he'd gotten her injured. It was only growing more personal as you approached.

“That so?” Dean's voice sounded as he led the hostage through the opening. Earning the attention from those in the room. “You know... the girl's right.” He was smug. Every bit in control. You flanked to Sam's side, staying behind Dean. Eyeing up the girl who'd taken down Jack. She was bound to the chair. More than a little surprise coating her rich features. “Your plan does kinda suck.” Came the aggressive taunt.

“Give us the girl,” Sam ordered, leaning forward. His spine straightening to seem even taller. As if he wasn't intimidating enough with his last name.

“She's not what we want,” The angel hiding within the vessel stated easily. Then, she turned her sights to the very thing she was trying to draw in. “Jack, I don't want to hurt you. I wanna help you.” A snort left you at that. There was nothing more than ill will present. “You should be among your own kind.”

The boy you'd helped shape took it about as well as you had, “My kind?” The scathing tone couldn't be missed. “The kind that kills people? That kidnaps people?”

His eyes were narrowed. Dangerous. Following the lead of the men who'd raised him.

For once, you felt truly intimidated as you felt Jack's potential. If he'd wanted to, he could have destroyed everything with a blink of his eye. Taken after his father easily. His mother's influence, though, had been the beginning of everything good. The only thing saving the world.

“You don't belong with them,” Sam's hand stopped you from moving at the haughty words. You hadn't even been aware that you'd taken a step forward. As if the mere mortal could fight an angel without a weapon. That wasn't what you were there for. “Come with us. Come home.”

Jack's eyes turned to all of you, taking in the family he'd clung to, “I am home.” His solid answer didn't have a chance to resonate through the room. Dean's head was slammed into by the angel he'd been holding. Blade jerked away from the throat.

The angel in the front dropped her own weapon from her sleeve. Jack caught the motion. His hand lifting to still her body before she could approach any of his people. You didn't hesitate, ducking out of the fight and around to Kaia. Sam dropped down to dive for the lost blade, earning a fist to the face in the process.

“In case you haven't figured it out, yet? You do mean something,” You tried not too focus too much on the chaos the room was filled with. Your small blade was pulled out of your pocket; a tiny pocket knife. Only good for cutting the binds. “If it helps... I'm not a fan of this, either.”

“Not really,” Kaia stated, looking up to see the angel moving in slow motion under Jack's control. Her body lifting even higher off of the floor before being tossed back through the glass forcefully.

The fight to the side was nearly over. Only things could never be as smooth as that. The older Winchester was pinned to the ground. Fighting to hold a weapon from his throat.

“Dean!” You called out, trying to get him to look away from Jack. To see the blade raised above him.

Jack didn't hesitate, turning to the scene. Raising his hand once again as the hunter lifted his own in a feeble attempt to protect himself. Dean raised his gaze, after a moment, in amazement. Still braced as the weapon turned on its owner. As soon as the force was dropped, the previously paused momentum sent the blade through the suited vessel's chest. A bright light taking over the screaming form before it dropped to the ground. Leaving wings to decorate the cement floor around it.

“I got her,” Dean managed. Getting his focus back. He ripped the blade from the corpse. Running after the angel that had destroyed the wall inside the bare room.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked you and Kaia both. You nodded, though the sight had been more than you'd anticipated.

“No!” She rubbed her wrist, looking around the room in disbelief. Still sprawled out. “What the hell was that?”

“They were angels.” Sam began, checking over you. He helped you to your feet with one smooth motion. Ensuring that you were truly safe.

“Bad angels,” Jack clarified, no doubt thinking about Castiel. For him, it was necessary to set him apart from the rest of the pack.

“Angels?” Her eyes were wide, turning to you. As if you could make it all make sense.

You were still coming to terms with it yourself. It wasn't possible to help her over that bridge in the way she was hoping. A simple, weak shrug was all you could offer.

“Yes. And we're hunters.” Sam spoke rapidly, deciding that the speech had to be a little more rushed than usual. Who knew if there were any others waiting to pounce. “We kill things like them.”

“Some of us,” You stated very seriously. “Others are just tag alongs.” You hadn't killed, yet. Though the way things were going, there was a very good chance of it. Something that you didn't care to dwell on.

“Right,” The sarcasm in her voice amplified the strain. “And he's the son of Satan?” Sam stopped then, and looked at Jack who was slightly miffed at being reduced to that. A noncommittal shrug was his answer, letting the boy handle it.

“I am. Yes.” He stated softly. Looking more like a puppy than ever before to make up for the force he'd used. He seemed to shrink as he talked, relaxing in a manner that reminded you remarkably of the man who had aided you to a standing position.

“You're insane.” Was her response as him and Sam guided her to her feet. The move was supposed to be helpful, but fell short. It looked as if they were holding her hostage, themselves.

“Yeah, the whole world's insane. You get used to it,” Dean moved up on the group, appearing to be the predator that every monster feared. His eyes landed on you, assessing for any damage. A soft shake of your head let him know that you were good. “She took off,” He got back to business. “She might be back. Might not.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, glancing over the damage. “We should move.”

No one questioned it. Bolting from the room. Moving towards freedom.

“We'll protect you,” Jack promised Kaia as you all made it outside. Taking his charge seriously. Wanting to have someone depend on him. He was finally feeling as though he was part of the Winchester team.

“I don't think so.” You couldn't really blame her for that response, either. You understood too well how it felt to have your control ripped from your hands.

“Wait,” Sam's hand came out to Dean's back to turn him around. Latching onto the conversation. “Hey, hey hey,” His voice was smooth and soft. Attempting to coax her into what he needed. “Kaia, look. I'm sure this is a lot. But...” He sighed. Too heavy to be soothing. “Look, we need you, okay?” He was finally finding that same desperate edge that drove his sibling. “My brother and I... our...our mother is trapped in...in another world. And...and if you can tell Jack where it is? Then he can open a door.”

Dean moved forward as his brother talked, “And we can save her.” His voice was hard, as if threatening would make her come peacefully. Sam didn't move his eyes away from the teenage girl, breathing hard as the fear gripped him. He didn't want to lose her. They were too close. “So, what's the play?”

“Derek said there are sacred sites,” Jack spoke up. “Places where the walls between worlds are thin. Where its easy to cross over.”

“They're all over,” You confirmed, finally having something that you could grasp onto. Witches had discussed them as ways to get close to the fae and other spiritual beliefs. “Some people think of it as branches to the tree of life, connecting different worlds. I've looked into them for different reasons, but still. They're there.”

“Witch and Native American lore have some common themes. It fits,” Dean nodded your way. Accepting the knowledge with an ease that you didn't trust.

“I was taking Kaia to The Wind Caves.” Jack continued on, bringing up the closest rip in the veil. Putting his plan into action was a different story.

“The Wind Caves?” She turned to him, not looking pleased in the slightest. Apparently she knew the place well. Or at least well enough to not like the sounds of it.

“Let's roll,” Dean ordered, moving to turn. As if that settled it all. His bark didn't have the ability to change minds so easily, though.

“No,” The response was sharp. She didn't want it. A step back followed. The girl wanted to flee, but knew she wouldn't get far. Who could with those three on their trail?

“We just saved your life in there,” The hand with the blade was lifted as the older Winchester spoke, threatening subtly with his gesturing.

“Thanks, but they only wanted me because of you.” The point was fair enough. However, you didn't get to say as much.

“Kaia,” Jack looked guilty as he began. “We need you to dreamwalk for us. To use your gift.” She was terrified, shaking her head softly as he talked. Silently saying no, again.

“It's not a gift. It's a curse,” Your mind traveled back in time. You heard yourself saying the words instead of her as you cried. The feeling of loss taking over you. The emotion that had belonged to the young pup you'd been attached to at the time. A boy that hadn't stuck around long enough for you to fall for. All gifts were a struggle until you learned how to control them. Shielding had been your greatest defense. “When Derek walked, he was free.” The explanation pulled you back to the present. “He could go see beautiful things, to worlds that were paradises. I wish that it was like that for me, but it's not. I only go to one place: the bad place... It's just...blood and death and monsters.” You could see the pain on her face as she talked. Suddenly sure that she'd been experiencing the bad place for as long as she could remember.

“Well, it sounds like a lifetime of bad dreams, but-”

“Bad dreams?” Kaia shook with offense. She pushed herself, then. Striding towards Dean while lifting her jacket's sleeve from her wrist. “When I get hurt over there, I don't wake up sweaty. I wake up bloody.” The scars along her arm made your stomach twist as she let you all witness the harm that could come from the place she frequented. “This scar... its not the only one.” The exposed arm was dropped. “I'm sorry about your mom, but I can't help you.”

“Alright,” Sam swallowed tightly, “fine...Um, we can find another way.” You agreed wholeheartedly. Your eyes were drawn to Dean, then, who was busy putting away the blade beneath his jacket. Reaching for something else. “We, um...”

“Dean,” Your protest was futile; the gun cocking as he turned to face Kaia.

“Get in the car.” The warning was nothing compared to what he could emit. Jack gripped against you to ensure that you didn't step anywhere near the scene as Sam tried to get his brother's attention. It was useless. The order came again as the girl eyed the weapon in disbelief. “Get in the car.” He flicked the barrel in a way that said get moving. When it didn't work, he snapped. Raising the handgun to her skull, “Get in the damn car!” As soon as she began moving, the direction was clear, “We're going to South Dakota.”

“You're a bastard,” You whispered his way when she did as told. Breathing every bit as heavily as he was when Jack released his hold.

“I know,” His tone was filled with nothing. Empty at the new low he'd achieved. “Get in the car, Y/N.” His voice had softened again for that order, but it wasn't enough.

“Gonna point it at me, too?” Your chin lifted, waiting for it. Instead, it was tucked back where it belonged as he slammed into the front seat; making you flinch in the process.

“Y/N-”

“Don't Sam.” Your voice was weak as you stared at the vehicle. Waiting for the deafening roar of the engine to fill the air. It didn't take long. “Don't defend that...”

“He's just-”

“I said not to,” The sudden strength from the emotions clammering inside of you seemed to take him aback for a moment before he nodded. Looking sorry, but not enough to let Kaia go. “The lines never seem to stop blurring,” You told Jack, eyes watering at what you'd just witnessed.

“I know,” He held open the door for you. Letting you ride in the middle, so that the girl wasn't left near someone she no doubt despised.

Before you could step inside, the driver window rolled down, “You're ridin' up front with us, Y/N”

“Like hell.” You glared, openly challenging the Alpha. It was easy to knock heads with him. Harder when Sam approached you, calmly asking you to go along with it. “Why should I?”

“Because I'm asking you to.” The taller man's voice was soft. “Because it gives Kaia a little more room to breathe back there.”

“Fine,” You huffed in a fit of rage. At the least, Sam was right. She wouldn't feel so claustrophobic. The witch, however, would be left to sit between two large, emotionally charged hunters. A prospect you weren't enjoying in the slightest. You weren't done glaring as you crawled towards the man that had started your life down the path of destruction. The seat was wide enough to hold you, but it wasn't a comfortable fit between the set of broad shoulders. Not even close. “I hope you're happy with yourself.” The barb was shot towards Dean as you leaned more against his brother. Almost sitting on Sam's lap in the process.

“Sweetheart, I'm never happy with myself.” He jerked the car into dive. Slamming onto the gas pedal. Sending all of you flying towards the caves.

You had no idea how long the Impala had gone with utter silence filling it. Eventually, Sam broke the lack of noise. Whispering just low enough that those in the back wouldn't make out what was said, “So, now what?” You'd been asking yourself the same question on repeat. “We get Kaia to the Wind Caves, and then what? Force her to dreamwalk at gun point?”

Dean's answer was perfectly clear, “We get mom back, no matter what. Remember?”

“This whole 'no matter what' business is turning you into a real douche,” You pointed out, not even phased when the dark glare turned your way. “Why is it that every time I start believing that there's something good in you, you have to pull something that sends it crashing to the ground?”

“You don't abandon family-”

“You don't think that I get that, Dean?” You couldn't help it, your fist slung at his arm. The force couldn't be gathered with as little room as there was, but you managed to make contact. The action in itself bruising. “If it was Jody? I'd be desperate, too. But, that doesn't mean that we traumatize a young girl to get it done.” In the back, Jack was talking to Kaia; apologizing from the sounds of it. Showing her that powers weren't something to be scared of. A lesson he'd picked up from you.

“The longer we wait? The less chance we have of saving her.” It was all black and white to him. It was either force Kaia or lose his mom. No chance of both not being the answer. Before you could argue further, something caught your eye.

“Wait,” You squinted your eyes towards the road, seeing a dark shape. “Is that...”

Dean squinted himself, just as the lights came on. A car headed straight for the Impala, tires squealing. Your body was slammed against Sam's as the muscle car narrowly dodged the collision; a half spin that gave you whiplash in the process.

“Oh, crap.” Dean muttered, looking at the vehicle that raced back around in the road. He punched the gas, going down the drive that he'd landed at. A shipyard up ahead.

“Angels are really starting to grate my nerves,” You stated seriously, past the lump in your throat as the Impala careened down the path. Making it clear that there'd be a confrontation. A way to even out the fight.

The car finally found the end of the drive. Abandoned metal shadowing the worn out land. Leading to a murky water

“Okay, let's go.” Sam ordered, throwing himself out of the passenger seat. “Let's go!” He tugged your hand. Pulling you out of the vehicle urgently before his brother had a chance to. “Out,” The hunter chanted, yanking open the back door for Kaia. “Jack, come on.”

His hand tapped each person as their heads ducked out of the vehicle; the younger ones moving towards safety. Then, his head whipped, trying to find his brother. The creak of the trunk gave away his location.

“Hey,” Dean called out, sifting for the supplies he needed. The second Sam was close enough, he was tossed the bag. “Get 'em in the boat.”

Jack's groan in pain made everyone's eyes land on him. Angel radio. The signal was vibrating through the air. His teeth clenched together as he grabbed at his skull.

“Come on,” Sam's push at your hip should have made you move. However, it didn't. “Go!” Your eyes turned back to the Impala. Without a word, you dodged around him to get to his brother as Sam urged the younger two forward loudly.

“What are you doing?” Dean boomed, staring at you in disbelief.

“I'm useless in there. Worst case scenario? I help buy them a little more time out here.” Was your answer. For a millisecond, Dean simply stared in incredulity. It was different when it was him staying back. He just couldn't tell you why for the life of him. All he knew was that he wanted you in that boat before anything came forward. “We don't have time to argue. Tell me the plan.”

“You're fucking insane, you know that?” He bit out, digging through the back rapidly.

“Yeah? Well, guess I'm just joining your club,” You shot back. Taking hold of one of the angel blades. “You can kick me out later.” The second bag was thrown over Dean's shoulder as the trunk slammed shut.

“Do you even know how to use that thing?” You didn't dare answer that. He groaned at the lack of response. “You stay behind me, got it?” He pointed his finger in your face. His face and tone screamed no bullshit. You'd have argued if you had time. “And if I say run? You go.”

“That isn't a plan,” You muttered. Wanting to lecture him properly.

But, time had run out. The following car was pulling in. Your body turned. Immediately blocked by the hunter.

“Need that boy, Dean Winchester.” The escaped angel from before demanded, slamming the vehicle door shut. “Heaven's running out of angels. Only he can save us.”

“From an outsider's stand point of view, that doesn't sound so bad,” The blade was cool in your palm. One angel was doable. Hell, Dean probably could have taken care of it himself if it remained that way. You were just there to try and give some kind of support to the lone man. To try and give the others a chance to work a bit, if needed.

“As far as I'm concerned, you dicks can fry.” The cocky statement didn't get to fly before another engine sounded. Reinforcements.

“Yes, well, you and your second half there, first.” Two other vehicles appearing set off a sense of urgency. He had to get you out of there.

“I'm starting to get the feeling I was better off listening to you.” You managed, letting out a small breath of dismay. The sudden doubt in your usefulness was crushing.

“That would have been nice.” He agreed, taking in the situation for only a second. “Run,” Dean's voice was so low that you almost missed it. You turned, doing as told as he bolted himself. Heading towards the old, rickety dock.

Old storage containers, rusted out machines, and pieces of metal were scattered around the wooden path you followed in the dark. The scene looked something out of a horror movie. The boat ahead lacked a number of windows. Pieced together with crusted bolts. A weakened fortress.

“I'm starting to fucking hate angels,” You called out, feeling your lungs burn. Mentally trying to remember the last time you'd actually exerted yourself in that manner. Nothing came to mind.

“Now, you're a real member of the club,” Dean called back, pushing at your back when you slowed down a fraction. Not giving you a chance at being caught.

“What's happening?” Kaia's voice sounded as you and Dean made it to the doorway. Fear and uncertainty echoing through the air towards you.

“Don't worry, we'll be fine.” Jack stated positively. Trusting the Winchesters and you to ensure no harm came forward.

“We're screwed,” Dean burst out as you two made it into the ship, breathing hard. Crushing the previous statement before it even had a chance to slightly help. “There's too damned many of them.”

“Yeah, I'm gonna have to side with him this time,” You gasped out, holding your aching side as soon as you could stop. “They're kinda desperate.”

“We gotta go up,” He pushed past the group, looking towards the stairs that rested behind the blood red sigil painted on the old metal wall.

“Oh, come on,” You groaned as he pulled the younger two forward. Sending them after Sam as he held the flashlight he'd taken from his brother upwards, so that they could see.

“Let's go,” He ordered, reaching for you next. For all your grumbling, you did as told. Flying up the stairs. Letting him follow.

“You always gotta be in the back?” Came the haughty question as you moved. Noting the way he kept himself between those he viewed as vulnerable and those he deemed as dangerous at all times. Hating the respect that seeped forward at the action.

“Last time I checked, you liked that.” Was his crass response. You didn't dignify that one with a comment. Moving past Sam as he stopped to spray another sigil on the wall.

“Keep going up,” You ordered Jack, who was in the lead at that point. Following behind closely. Leaving the professionals to handle the work on the walls.

“How long will this warding hold?” Dean asked, glancing around behind him. The approaching footsteps could be heard softly in the distance against the wood. Larger than the vessels would've created on their own. His eyes latched onto your back; watching to make sure that you kept moving.

“I don't know,” Sam answered honestly. Still working on the second seal. Finishing it off in seconds. With a small groan, Dean threw himself up the next set after you. Letting his brother follow his lead.

“Hey, Dean. Maybe if we let them in,” Sam began, spraying the wall in the open room everyone was cornered into moments later, “and then we blast them all away-”

“No, they get in here? We're dead.” He sounded so sure, pacing in front of your body as you glanced out the windows. Feeling more caged by the second. “Jack, can you do anything?”

“I can try,” He stated, stepping forward at Dean's words. “But, they'll hit me with angel radio, again.” A loud crashing noise sounded as an energy wave shook the rotted vessel you were all residing in.

“Okay,” Dean gripped your arm when you stumbled at the force, holding you steady. “Okay... alright, so then we go out guns blazing. We take out as many as we can.”

“We really need to talk about your plans,” You hissed out. Your pulse was racing. Air leaving you in deep heaves. “There's gotta be something else.”

“So, you come up with a better idea,” He barked out, glaring down at you. “Until then? Get ready to swing that blade.” He turned his head towards Kaia. “Kid,” His favorite nickname came forth, “sorry to drag you into this. This was not your fight.” The first bit of humanity he'd offered her.

Another thick energy wave hit. Even more force in it. Sending debri scattering to the ground as everyone tried to hold their balance. Sam gripped the pole closest to him, giving him a bit of extra leverage as he guarded the door.

“If they get up here, they'll kill you all and take me.” Jack stated, making sure everyone knew what was coming. He was going to offer himself up. You could feel it.

“No, they won't.” Kaia spoke up, sounding more determined than she had before. “You said that I could help you find the door to another world, right?”

“Yes,” Jack answered just before another quake hit.

“So, let's do it. Let's get out of here.” She was offering herself up. A brave feat. Even when there wasn't much choice in the matter. It was that or get smited by some seriously pissed off angels.

“Hey, can you take us to our mom?” Sam spoke up, grabbing the opportunity with both hands. Another shake stirred the ancient boat. They were speeding up the hits.

“Can you do it?” Dean demanded harshly, transforming back into the desperate jerk that you loathed.

“I don't know. I think so.” Jack answered, stepping into the role that was needed.

“Anywhere is better than here right now,” You pointed out, turning to the eyes in the room. “Anywhere. Got it?”

“What if something goes wrong?” Sam asked loudly, trying to make himself heard over the noise the angels were creating. Another hit landed, sending you falling onto your ass.

“Something already is going wrong!” Dean managed to brace himself, bending to get you back to your feet. “Jack, do it.” The man holding you ordered, not giving anyone a chance to protest.

“Let me go,” You yanked away. Grabbing the chair next to you for Kaia to sit in before the next wave could hit.

“Are you ready?” The Nephilim checked, looking down into the girl's eyes. Nerves seeping into the already charged air had everyone on edge.

“No,” Was the honest answer. But that wasn't all. “Let's go.”

“Atta girl,” You grinned a bit. Proud of how she was holding up. At the least, she'd found the strength to face what she feared. Just before Jack could touch her, a strong blow hit the defenses.

“They're getting closer,” You could feel the impending energy moving up the first set of stairs. “The first sigil failed.” It was as if the bubble you'd found yourself in had decreased by half the size, suddenly.

“You're sure?” Sam turned worriedly to you. There wasn't a doubt in your mind.

“Positive.” Your body tensed as if you were going to war just as Jack's hands brushed back Kaia's hair gently before connecting to her temples. The golden light came forth as wave after wave moved in. The angels were growing more confident. More demanding.

“Okay, I'm there. I'm in the bad place,” Kaia breathed out, her voice trembling. Face contorting in fear. On some level, you wondered just what it was that she was seeing.

“Let go,” Jack ordered, eyes gazing upwards as he witnessed what was playing out in her mind. Her spirit traveling through the veil into what would hopefully end up as safety.

“I can't.” She was trembling, truly terrified as she witnessed what was on the other side of the spiritual wall.

“You can,” You spoke up. Your body made its way to Sam, letting him help support you so that you didn't fall for a second time. Coaching the young girl. “Don't fight it, Kaia. Relax.” The energy exploded again, knocking the second sigil out. “Oh, shit.” Your eyes turned towards the door where the final sigil rested. It started to glow as the angels' power slammed against it.

“Dean, you gotta see this.” Sam pulled away, turning his brother towards it. The paint simmered from the onslaught. “Come here!” Dean gripped the pole, resting his body behind you as he witnessed the sight.

“No...they're not going to get through.” You closed your eyes, picturing the familiar shielding light around the mark. Letting your mind try to block it out of desperation. Hoping that the sigil's strength could be amplified once again using yourself rather than the now destroyed marks. “Not yet.” When their combined power hit, it felt as if you'd been socked in the stomach. Shoving you back into the all too familiar chest. A gasp left your lips at the force, but the simmering lessened slightly. “It's not going to be enough,” You choked out, tightening your hand on your crystal that you wore around your neck.

“Jack, now!” Dean roared out, his arms holding you upright.

“I see her,” Jack's head turned, following the sight of Mary. He'd gotten what he'd been looking for.

Two more rapidly fired attacks hit, tearing through you. Your muscles burned. As if you were getting torn apart from the inside out.

“All right, they're almost through,” Dean's grip tightened on you until he was supporting your body weight.

Your vision started to blur. The words all ran together as each pulse slammed against the hold you were barely maintaining. Just as your body failed, Kaia released a scream. A blinding gold light filled the room as you found yourself losing consciousness.

“Y/N,” Sam's voice tugged your eyes open. You blinked into awareness, slowly. Looking around you in confusion. There was so much green.

“We're out,” Your breath was shaky as you talked; coming back to reality had never hurt so much. “Good, I don't think I can move just yet.” Every joint ached. Each cell seemed to be screaming out in misery. “Dean?”

“I'm right here,” He groaned out, stretching after he'd pulled himself to his feet. “But...the kids? They aren't with us.”

“What are you...ah,” A grunt left you as you sat up, “talking about? They were right there.” They should have landed in the same space. You should have all been together. However, Dean wasn't lying. The forest appeared to be empty outside of you three.

“Come on,” Sam tugged you to your feet. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to stand on your own.

“Alright, we gotta move. Climb up,” Dean presented his back. For once you didn't argue, wrapping your arms around his neck with his brother's help. Letting his hands grip the back of your thighs to hold you onto his strong spine.

“We just got him back,” The hopeless note earned you a small squeeze to the leg.

“We'll work this out, okay?” He promised, looking around before choosing a direction. “What happened back there, anyway?”

“I was trying to help,” Not that you'd gotten very far. “Tried to shield the sigil instead of myself. Didn't go so well.” It had been a last ditch effort that had rendered you useless.

“Do spells usually take so much out of you?” Sam asked, walking beside his brother. Carefully stepping over a fallen log.

“Magic is draining sometimes,” You answered, letting your chin rest on the thick shoulder. “I'm not used to something that intense, though.”

“You did good, Y/N.” Dean spoke up, his voice rumbling through you as he talked. “Probably bought us those last crucial seconds.”

“Yeah?” You weren't sure if they were just trying to cheer you up, but Sam agreeing eased some of the doubt from your mind. “Thanks...”

There was a large hole that took a little extra maneuvering to get into a bit into the trek, but he managed it. All of you looked around, trying to figure out the same thing.

“Where the hell are we?” Dean asked, taking in the indentation in amazement. It was nearly as deep as he was tall. Three thick paths stemmed from the middle and ended a short ways away. It looked remarkably like something from Jurassic Park.

“I think this is the bad place,” You stated carefully, feeling the dread pool into you...

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger @lilulo-12 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @michaelneedssomemilk @lemondropirwin @fanfictionismydeath @neii3n @surmya1907

Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @screechingartisancashbailiff @woodworthti666 @coldmuffinbanditshoe

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lithyena · 3 years

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What less social media is doing to me

I've deleted my Instagram app a month ago and it's been amazing. I've been using that app intensly for about 4 years, which was mostly a lot of fun, but I've also had my moments where I just wanted to delete it all. There were always things that made me stay though, like keeping up with my friends and just enjoying creating content. But I finally did it, the app is gone and I feel amazing.

The second I deleted it I was so relieved. I felt like I could breathe and this big chaotic and messy IG drawer in my head was free to go into the bin. Yes, Instagram was always swirling in my mind and ever since deleting it I've noticed just how much it's been present in there.

Chapter 1 • how social media can be toxic

I would spend so much time thinking about what I could post on my feed, what would look good, what place I could arrange aesthetically so I could take a nice picture. Sometimes taking pictures would take so much time, without even taking into account how much time I spent editing the pictures, deciding on what order I could post them in and what caption to use. Oh man, the CAPTIONS. I could not for the life of me ever come up with a caption. That shit must've taken up so much time of my life and I was often so fed up with that part of it, but I felt like I had to. It was a whole thing.

Next to that I would spend my days off doing makeup, putting outfits together and taking a million pictures just for the sake of posting some on IG. I did it solely for making content, I was setting a scene that just took so much effort. I didn't have to go anywhere or do it for myself, so it didn't go naturally, you know? It's hard to describe, but I hope you get the gist.

So like I said, I would dress up just for pictures and it would always make me so tired. It's a routine I got used to, but I didn't enjoy doing it. I'd get ready, take pictures, then edit them and be super tired because I've spent hours doing it. I never did it for myself and yes, while it is fun to look back on and see those aesthetically pleasing pictures, the joy of seeing that doesn't outweigh the negative feelings and effort it took to create them.

There is nothing wrong with taking time to create pictures of course, if you enjoy doing it, all the more power to you! It's just not something I'm going to do to myself anymore. I'll still dress up, but only if I have another reason for it, then the pictures will be a fun extra!

So yea, personally for me it's just become very toxic and it took up too much of my time. Not only because of what I've talked about, but also the fact that there's friends who post pictures and stories and me wanting to keep up with those aswell. It just became a bit too much.

Chapter 2 • the positive changes

There's so many things I want to do in my free time. Like keeping up with my hobbies, go outside and walk around in forests, doing things in life and really be present while doing so. When I was active on instagram I'd constantly think about creating content and with everything I did I'd debate whether or not it'd be fun to capture it for my story. Taking that away made me be so much more present, my mind is much more focused on the things that matter and spending my time not in front of a electric rectangle device has just become so precious.

Beautiful things I see or little moments I have are just for me now, they're not tainted by taking pictures of it and taking time to upload it to a silly social platform. It's just happening in the moment and I'm there to capture it into my memories alone. It's so nice.

Here are some things I've noticed since deleting the app:

• My mind isn't super chaotic anymore

• I register more that's going on around me, I'm more present in life

• I'm not as fussy about appearance

• I'm more positive

• there's no weight constantly dragging me down

• I just generally feel better about myself

It's the little things, like not caring as much about my hair anymore. I used to be so focused on the way it looked at all times, because you know, what if I felt like taking a picture? I just made everything so complicated for myself.

Now I care so much less about my hair and it's given me the freedom to play around with it a lot. Because if it doesn't look good it doesn't matter! The thing that matters most now is comfort and me having fun with it. But the funny thing is that it actually looks better now that I'm not being so careful with it anymore, haha!

I'm also taking so much less pictures of just insignificant shit. I don't need to keep up with an IG story or constantly search for pictures that look aesthetic enough to maybe post on my feed. I don't whip out my phone for every little thing and it just feels so freeing to not have that going on in my head all the time anymore.

Chapter 3 • put time in happy things

I was afraid of missing out, but every time I log onto Twitter now I'm just like 🤷 I really don't miss anything. It's just a lot of noise and useless information that I used to consume so much, but really don't see the need of consuming anymore. My quality of life doesn't increase from it so why would I interact with it? This doesn't apply to any of my friends though, I'm still happy to see their tweets and see how they're doing. They are the only reason I'm not off of Twitter yet too.

It's just weird. I used to be SO into instagram and social media in general, but when I think about it now I'm like what's the point. It kinda feels meaningless now. And I think that shows a lot of character development! I'm becoming a better version of myself and deciding to increase my own quality of living instead of choosing to share everything on the internet. It's one of the best things I've done for myself.

One last thing I'd like to mention is that I also have more time to read now! I haven't really done so yet, but I've started reading my all time favourite book again and it is just so nice. I've just gained a lot of time I used to spend scrolling through timelines, that I can now use to pick up reading and other hobbies I enjoy!

I'm sorry if this has become a long post! If you read it all the way through; just know that I appreciate you very much and I hope that if you're struggling with your relationship with social media you'll consider taking some time off, because I assure you that it'll be very refreshing for your soul. Even deleting your apps for a week will bring loads of change in your mental health!

The best thing you can do is to put your phone away and look around you and do things in real life! Take walks, do a puzzle you never got round to doing, start drawing things, read that one book you always wanted to start but didn't. There's lots of things to do that can make your life much more valuable to yourself. Social media is so toxic and I'm so thankful to myself to have stepped away from it.

I chose to live my life more authentically and that's such a wonderful decision I made. Life is precious and I'm here to live it! 🖤

#thoughts #social media #instagram

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b4kuch1n · 4 years

Text

The Future Is In Space! (and so is the rest of you)

Okay, so. Gordon should’ve seen this coming.

And he did, to be fair: Joshua’s always loved space. Joshua loved the idea of flying cars when he was a tiny little thing, if the fact that all of the toy cars he had were thrown with intense force at one point or another meant something, and he clapped at the night sky once when Gordon got them both stuck at a gas station in the middle of nowhere due to… circumstances… which was super, ultra, uber cute as fuck . Especially because Gordon had just applauded him for singing along to a song on the radio when they parked, and that was very possibly the first time Joshua registered clapping as a possible positive reaction to something he likes, or whatever like that. Gordon Freeman has a PhD in theoretical physics and theoretical physics only.

The point is that Gordon loves Joshua so fucking much. No, the point is that Joshua has always liked space. He chose for himself a set of space-themed PJs when Gordon took him to the mall, and he likes food with weird colors because that’s “alien food”, and he has given away all of the toy cars he had to make space for toy space ships of many sizes, and Gordon has had to have a conversation with him once about upending a dusty fish bowl onto his own head so he could look like an astronaut. He doesn’t do that anymore, because Joshua is genuinely a really smart kid who just needs the required pieces of information to put things together by himself.

Gordon loves him so much.

Gordon also has only experienced a single year of relatively radiation-free, sludge-free, organic, non-Black Mesa- poisoned air and also freedom (to an extent) since. You know. Almost dying and also losing his right arm in Black Mesa. Where he jumped into a few portals, one of which leading to an alien world called Xen, where he had to kill what seemed to him at the time a spiteful god against his own existence.

That, and not the Joshua-loves-space part, is the part he didn’t see coming. Hadn’t. Still doesn’t, if he can be honest for a minute. There are days it still doesn’t feel real, just to contrast nicely with the days when what’s left of his right arm and his right shoulder hurt, and days when power outage hit unexpectedly and the lights went out without warning, and days when he fights to not let some stupid fucked up slights against him go because that’s just how the world is that’s how things are now keep your head down and don’t think Gordon just shoot just let your trigger finger pull itself in you are in a comedy of error a laugh track a monkey on a leash just dance just move your feet j

Hey, no digging your heels in there. Throw yourself off your rhythm, Gordon. Joshua. Joshua loves space. Joshua is going to an elementary school now. Joshua just came home from a “career” day, and the parent invited to speak is a retired astronaut.

Joshua said: “I wanna be an astronaut when I grow up!”

Joshua likes numbers. Somewhat. He’s not averse to them, at the very least, and homework’s kind of bullshit from the concept to the execution but when Gordon and Tommy and Coomer sit down to keep him engaged while he does it he has fun with math homework. He likes video games, he likes the puzzles in the youth magazines they signed up for at his school, he likes messing with shape blocks and pulls out some cool combinations Gordon doesn’t see coming sometimes. Joshua is a smart kid that enjoys a fair challenge. Joshua is totally astronaut materials.

Joshua is going to space.

Joshua is absolutely going to space.

Xen is, coincidentally, also in space.

Gordon is calm. He totally has a good poker face. He performs well under pressure, especially very specific types of pressure, e.g. when there are rules in place he can cling to and ground out an appropriate plan of action. He could improvise a presentation in class in a pinch, because he knew what presentations are and what he’s been working on and what the teacher expected. He could jimmy his car out of an ice patch, because he knew how cars work and how ice acts. He can smile and say “That’s great, Joshie! You just gotta work hard for it, and then you’ll be in space in no time.”

Gordon has an image he can provide to show how he feels.

[Picture ID: a drawing of Gordon Freeman standing in front of his son Joshua, cut off at their chest. Gordon is a tall man, a bit heavyset, with tan skin and mid-back length, messy curly brown hair that’s greyed at his temples due to stress from surviving the hellhole that is Black Mesa and Xen. He’s wearing his comfortable worn-and-faded t-shirt, which is orange with a very faded graphic printed on the front. Joshua is a young boy with brown skin and short dark curly hair, brown eyes that’s brimming with light and happiness, and a wide happy smile. He’s wearing a light green t-shirt. Gordon is smiling at him, with another shot of his face enlarged and superimposed on the drawing right next to his head. This Gordon is screaming. This Gordon is screaming his heart out, and his face is scrunched up while his mouth opens wide, and he’s screaming a silent scream and he will never stop.]

---

Contrary to how it appears to everyone, Benrey doesn’t live full time at the Freemans’.

Well. He does “sleep” there. If he actually sleeps. That’s one of the questions that Gordon has had ever since Black Mesa that he never got to or bothered to ask, and then when they had to defeat Benrey in the final boss fight he thought that was it with his chance to ever ask. And then Benrey came back and the situation took a hard left into throw-the-whole-suitcase-out awkwardness and Gordon thought it better to never bring those questions up ever again. It’s. Ongoing. Like his climb back into being a normal, mostly law abiding, neutral good citizen, who has no ties to that research facility that blew up and opened a portal to hell in space.

It helps that Benrey really is just… a dude. Now that he’s not eighty feet tall and clipping through walls anymore, he can definitely pass as someone who just really loves to mess with people for a laugh. Which… well, Gordon’s judgement of character is probably better discarded in the kitchen trash compactor now, but he’s not gonna lie and say that’s all Benrey seems to him. He doesn’t even mess with people for laugh, not really. He is just. Like that. He’s an alien, but in the sense that’s…

Well, to Benrey, humans are alien. So that’s that.

And also Black Mesa did stretch the definition of ‘human’ in the physical sense pretty thin. So, again, that’s that. It all fits together like sliced pita bread.

The other thing that helps is that Gordon has the tendency to forget about risks or consequences when they are not directly in front of him, which he sometimes overcorrects, but this time around it helps move the sentiment into the philosophical window pretty quick, and then he can throw a brick through that one, because philosophy sucks ass. Gordon’s moving along well! He only had to change prosthetics twice because the first two were in order too heavy for his shoulder and too energy consuming, and all three are fully covered by the overlords that didn’t want Black Mesa to become a Thing in history, and now he works remotely for a uni that just lets whatever happen. It’s chill. It’s mostly chill.

He could’ve just chugged along never thinking even an inch deeper about Benrey’s Benrey-ness again, and Benrey makes that easy, because Benrey loves walking around and looking at things and being a bit of a spectacle with a straight face. Okay, Gordon doesn’t know for sure if Benrey loves doing those things, because he’s not Benrey. He just knows that Benrey does those things, frequently, and with an expertise that baffles even him, who knows full well how Benrey is. Well enough. Awkward territory, all of this is, really. The Point Is that Benrey actually doesn’t appear at home too much! He plays games through the night sometimes, sure, and ever since he called second dibs on any cereal in the apartment he always appears at the right time to claim that, but the whole thing is. Balanced. Benrey doesn’t seem to have physical personal belongings outside of the PS3 and four copies of Heavenly Sword he lugged back one day (the rest of the game library everyone kinda chimed in here and there to build up, because console is common ground fair use for everyone, while PC is where Gordon streams and also works, so it’s off limit), and he rarely uses utensils to eat anything, so to anyone but the team it’d seem like he’s barely there at all. Except for his presence of course. That’s… a lot harder to negotiate.

Gordon’s gotten very, extremely good at it though. It’s his life. Things fit together, mostly. He can deal, he has been dealing, and it’s even been fun. It’s definitely really funny here and there.

Gordon’s about to break the equilibrium. Introduce a nasty new specimen into the scene.

“Bro I knocked for a hot minute,” Benrey says, at the same time as Gordon’s blurting out, “I need to go back to Xen.”

“Huh.”

“Wha- Why do you knock? You’ve never knocked. You’ve literally only ever broken in.”

“Wanna… start now.” Benrey intones in that exact way, and then knocks on the door again. It doesn’t even sound good. These doors are all made with the weird thick composite that makes a dull plastic sound when knocked on.

“Don’t do that, just use the doorbell if you want to-” Gordon catches himself. “No matter. I need to go back to Xen. As soon as possible, but anytime in the next… twelve years… will work.”

Benrey just looks at him for a long time. An extended minute. Maybe even two.

Gordon is just staring back.

“You’re at. The door.” Benrey says, in a low voice. Gordon blinks. “Rude… rude little boy Freeman, huh.”

Gordon takes a deep breath. “Benrey-”

“Gonna let me in? Soon? ‘s bad etiquette… greeter… doesn’t even let guests in. Bet your wares aren’t even good.”

“Alright! Alright.” Gordon snaps, but he also does step back for Benrey to walk in, which. Really, that’s never been necessary. Benrey’s always come in and out as he pleases. Usually Gordon just walks out into the living room and Benrey’s already on the couch playing whatever game catches his eyes on that day. The decorum of knocking and walking in is simply never present.

Well, Benrey does knock on Joshua’s bedroom door. But that’s it.

They walk together into the living room, then Benrey situates himself on the couch, and Gordon settles on the carpeted floor next to the table to observe him. He’s never seen Benrey actually fold his limbs up into the position he’s usually already in when walked in on before. It’s mostly normal movements, which still catches Gordon off-guard a bit.

“Nice couch you’ve got here,” Benrey says, and pulls out his phone to fiddle with. It’s a Nokia 2700 Classic, with a theme downloaded from the Ovi Store, and a firefighter-themed 2D platformer that does get insanely hard in places. Tommy got him a snazzier Blackberry a while back, but he refused that one. Gordon didn’t really get it, but. Whatever.

“It’s always been here,” Gordon replies on reflex.

“Liar… Gordon Lie… man.” Benrey seems to need to chew on that one for a second. “Gordon Lieman. This building’s like. Ten years old.”

“That’s practically forever dude. That’s longer than they sent me to MIT for. Joshua’s not even that old.”

“He’s gonna. In… seven… years.”

Gordon remembers what he needs to talk with Benrey about again. “Goddamnit,” he slaps his own face - not with the hard prosthetic this time, thank you very much. Took him six months of HEV training and a year with a prosthetic to get it to heart. “Okay, so. Xen.”

“Wait. Math’s wrong… eleven. Years.”

“Don’t distract me! Xen!” Gordon throws his arms up, finally making Benrey actually look at him proper. “Joshua wants to be an astronaut when he grows up.”

Benrey puts his phone down.

“Yeah,” Gordon scrubs his face, with his flesh hand. “So I need to… do something about Xen. I have a plan. I need to find materials, and then I need a way to Xen…”

“What’s an astronaut.”

“A- no.” Gordon sits up straight. “No, you’re fucking with me. You’re doing this on purpose. I’m fucking about to go nuts, dude.”

Benrey looks him up and down, makes sure his head movement is clear in the dark living room, lit only by the lamppost outside the window. “Yeah,” he says, “no shit. You wanna go back to… Xen… and stuff. Freeman lost his mind.”

Gordon opens his mouth to retort, but then closes it with a click. “Okay,” he mumbles after a moment of thinking it over, “okay. I get where you’re coming from.”

“Haha, get it. ‘cause I’m from. Xen. And shit.”

“Not funny, dude.” It is a bit funny. “But I’m not- okay, so, listen, Joshua’s a determined kid, alright? He’s smart, and he’s healthy, and he likes space. He’s… the chance of him becoming an astronaut is not zero.” Gordon pulls his legs up to his chest. “If it’s up to me, it’s gonna be a hundred percent, ‘cause that’d make him so happy. But even if I’m not the one writing the almighty script I’m still gonna do my best to help him if he’s serious.”

Benrey continues looking at him. “Uh-huh.”

“And… that includes. Never letting him near Xen.”

“Mm.”

“And I know, I know Xen’s like. Ten fucking floating rocks at least a million Texas lengths away from Earth, but it’s still there, y’know? It’s still there. You’re from there! You know it’s still…”

“Yeah?”

“... I. Want to blow Xen up.”

Benrey settles into the draw-me-like-a-French-girl pose. “Sounds good. How’re we doing that.”

“Well, we’ll need explosives that can actually detonate in Xen’s climate, and acquiring that’s gonna put me on so many shitlist-” Gordon almost physically grabs his own hand to yank himself back to Benrey’s answer. “Wait. Are you really just… relenting? Are you actually in this now. Benrey?”

“Say more about the explosive though.” Benrey blinks innocently at him. “Please? Explosive cool. Maybe illegal. Super cool though.”

Gordon is not doing the frog mouth thing. He’s not. He’s totally not. He sighs a long sigh; there, no more rude expression. “I am only thinking about using explosives, because it’s costly and we’re gonna have to transport it. So you have nothing to snitch about. Who would you even snitch to, anyway? Fucking- we are under an indefinite two-way nondisclosure clause, if any of us ever open our mouth to a stranger about that we’re gonna get sacked, but. Wait are you even involved in that? You came back after we signed those papers. Well Tommy’s officially ‘representing’ us, so it’s all tangential kinda, so maybe he can just add you, but why would you-”

“No explosive run huh… What’re you gonna… use. Then.”

“-subject yourself to the law- alright, yeah uh. To be honest I was thinking raw force? Because I do have around twelve years to make this work, and Coomer has insane strength that has leveled a Xen island before, and Bubby is… I think he just isn’t aware that there’s supposed to be a limit to human strength at all. They forget to put that in when they pumped him with knowledge juice. He can- wait, Bubby can just make fire. He can maybe negate the climate conditions for us, so explosives are still in the question here, and- Darnold, last I heard he’s doing some ‘Sour Patch Kids but real’ stuff… sounds like seriously corrosive stuff… We can. We can have a plan.”

Benrey is on his phone again. “Nice.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Gordon dry swallows some dust from the carpet. He realizes he’s gripping on it pretty hard with his prosthetic; he’s close to ripping a chunk of it out. He takes a deep breath and relaxes the plastic hand. “We’re gonna need to make and test the explosives, and we’re. I need to tell everyone. Convince them to help. And we’ll need a portal back to Xen.”

Benrey’s still clicking away on his phone - probably playing that firefighter game again - but he’s looking at Gordon at the same time. Gordon looks up just in time to catch the sharp grin disappearing from his face.

Alright. Maybe Benrey does love doing Benrey things. At least one of them’s actively enjoying this.

---

Gordon’s well aware how ridiculous he is. Is sometimes seen as. Perceived as. Terminologies.

Mostly he copes fine with that. He’s lived it for as long as he’s alive. Most decisions he makes are met with a raised eyebrow at the sublest and outright laughter at the rudest. Transitioning, that was a long, long period of his parents going from “haha funny joke but don’t tell it in public yeah” to “oh shit that’s for real huh? That’s for real” to confused, but silent, silence. Him applying for MIT and seeking a scholarship was definitely the career advisor at his high school laughing uncomfortably for a long time, because Gordon’s never held down a project properly, has he? How’s he doing this? And then him adopting Joshua officially was at least ten separate conversations with Joshua’s grandparents patting him on the back, it’s okay if you don’t! We can care for him. It’s nice to have children around the house again! We know you’re busy! We know there’s things youngsters like you want to do before getting tied down with children. Trust us, we know. You don’t have to .

Gordon knows. He’s never had to make any of the decisions he actively made, but one, that’s why they’re decisions and not punishments , and two, in many ways including cerebral, he did. Kind of have to. In many ways those are the only steps that make sense for him to take. They were the foundation to who he is as a person, with a sense of self that must be supernaturally obscure, because he’s. He’s got a lot of things to balance. A lot of tight ropes to walk.

Gordon’s many things, a lot of those he doesn’t fucking recall himself. Maybe that’s by itself absurd enough. He’s had a lot of time to learn, and a bit of time to relearn, being okay with being absurd.

Black Mesa “helped”, in the same way it spared the rest of him when it got his arm cut the fuck off. It’s a horror comedy. It gave him a bit of a new perspective on absurdity.

“Don’t you dare,” Gordon grouches, because he’s learning. He’s always learning. “Don’t use the a-word.”

Bubby puts his arm together in front of his chest. “I’m not about to! Don’t presume you know what I will do.”

In a way Bubby’s incredulous look stings worse than Benrey’s deflection, Gordon reasons, because Benrey has emotional (?) stakes in Xen’s existence. Maybe he has an external heart or something that’s still beating and keeping him alive on Xen, though Gordon hopes he’d’ve at least been transparent about that when they talked about blowing the place up. Bubby though, Bubby doesn’t have emotional ties to many things altogether. Bubby’s also a tube baby who sets himself on fire with his thoughts. Himself and other people and/or objects. Not as absurd as Benrey being Benrey, but absurd enough to be way above Gordon on the a-scale, and thus has no rights to call Gordon absurd.

“You have to admit though,” Bubby says after a moment of silence.

Gordon takes a deep breath. “No, actually, I don’t have to admit shit,” he says, with what he can call patience with just a little bit of definition stretching, “you ever thought of that? I actually can just never admit that blowing up a whole planetoid system is a bit out-of-the-box thinking of me. I can just say that it’s totally normal and expected behavior of me, and what’re you gonna do with that? Huh? Do go on.”

“Oh don’t be pissy at me,” Bubby huffs, and goes back to staring at the buoy bobbing on the water surface, tied to his fishing line. “You’re scaring away the fish, Gordon. Everyone knows you don’t talk and stomp around on the piers while people are fishing. It’s rude.”

“You’re literally only trying to see if you can set a fish on fire as a prank,” Gordon points out, more for his own sanity than to prove anything to anyone, least of all Bubby.

Benrey looks like he’s ignoring Gordon and Bubby’s exchange, just sitting at the edge of the piers, legs swinging evenly, but Gordon well knows he’s listening in. If not because he’s somewhat invested then because most things that frustrate Gordon is great entertainment to him.

He is, maybe, a bit, somewhat invested though, must be. He brought Gordon to where Bubby and Coomer are camping, afterall. No reasons else to do it, especially when they have time to wait for them to come back to civilization. Twelve years, in fact.

Gordon can wait (he can forget, but in his book that’s the same as waiting, really), and he doesn’t begrudge Bubby and Coomer’s “honeymoon trip”, which has consisted thus far of them trampling about in ~~nature~~ , e.g. deep ends of the world that they do not and should not have access to, but somehow end up in anyway. Gordon only knew because Coomer’s grown fond of taking pictures, and once in a while if they get wifi he sends everyone some. The most memorable one was a pitch black square except for two dots of light in the distance, with the geotag pointing to them being in the Mariana trench.

They’re having fun, and Darnold and Tommy take effort to “decontaminate” them between trips, as well as make them learn wildlife interaction guidelines (Bubby probably already knew, but he didn’t care, and still nobody’s sure if he cares now), so Gordon doesn’t mind. Has no reason to mind. Until now, but only a tiny bit.

They decided to stop in a seaside town somewhere up North three days ago, and wifi’s spotty at best but Coomer still managed to send them pictures again - of him fighting a dolphin and Bubby making fun of a goat skeleton in a museum - and then Gordon got tired of staying up thinking about Xen at night and shot his shot. It took them another day to check their message again, and Bubby replied saying “don’t third wheel other people, weirdo” and Gordon just sighed and resigned himself to staying up way too late for another week or so. But then Benrey asked him to go to GameStop with him, which. Admittedly that was suspicious as hell, but Gordon reasoned Benrey knocked and asked to be let in the other day, so what the fuck, right. And then he stepped through the GameStop’s door, noticing the glass being darker than usual, and ended up on this piers where Bubby’s been trying to have a laugh at some poor fish’s expense.

Bubby made fun of him for third wheeling again, despite Benrey also being right there, and despite Coomer not even being there.

“Did you guys have a fight or something?” Gordon asked, because maybe he can be a little bit spiteful. He’s allowed.

“No,” Bubby grumbled. “Harold impressed Gregory with his punching power, so he’s invited to the Punching Tournament. I don’t like being in water for a long time so I stayed. Their sandwich’s not even good.”

Gregory turned out to be the giant squid that lives a few kilometers off the shore, and another few kilometers under the sea level.

“I’m gonna issue an a-word ban, actually,” Gordon declares, when he comes back to where Bubby’s sitting on his journey to wear a track into the piers. “I think that’s more conducive to real conversations.”

He’s being distracted, he knows. And maybe he’s letting himself be a bit distracted, so he can have a minute to improvise a script. Benrey just fast traveled him here, he did not prepare any materials, he doesn’t even have his notebook with him. That’s where all of his plans are! And his doodles. Mostly his doodles, but that’s a part of his thinking process, so he’s allowed.

“Alright, Mister Fucking-Insane-Person,” Bubby shrugs.

“Doctor.”

“Oh, my bad! Doctor Fucking-Insane-Person.”

“Also that’s a ban dodge and you know it. Also you still don’t have any rights to call me anything! I refuse to submit in this matter.”

Bubby turns around fully to put his hand on crossed legs and stare at Gordon. “You sure, Gordon? Are you very sure about that, when you warp out of thin air to where I am missing my husband very much and not torturing fishes for fun, saying things about blowing Xen up ? Is that not ragingly absurd, Doctor ?”

Gordon takes another deep breath. For his own benefit. For his own wellbeing. “Okay, one, Benrey warped me here, I was not responsible for that. Two, you’re trying to set fishes on fire, and your husband is punching more fishes while a giant squid cheers him on, probably. And three, which part of blowing Xen up is absurd, now? Feel free to elaborate on it. I’m all ears.”

“The very idea of it!” Bubby exclaims, accidentally shoving his fishing rod off the optimal position, chasing away the few fishes not shunned by his radiating malicious intent yet. “Who even thinks of that?”

“Me,” Gordon snaps back, “and you guys kinda ruined what ‘absurd’ even means at all for me, so don’t try me at it.”

Bubby shuts his mouth with a click, but his brows are still furrowed in the exact way that claims, loudly even if soundlessly, that he thinks that’s stupid.

“No, go on, Doctor Bubby,” Gordon presses. “You’ve got the quiz. Try your hand at it again, go ahead.”

“Alright, then, how are we even doing it? If we’re doing it. And there’s no we yet, mind you.”

“I- okay.” Gordon holds his hands up. “I’ll admit I do not have the specifics yet. But logistically at least, it’s entirely possible. We’ll need,” he calculates a number real quick, “thirteen hundred pounds of column charge slurry, but if we have something high corrosive we can wrap up safely until detonation we’ll need even less. We can. Make that much. If we have Darnold’s help. We need access to Xen itself, which Tommy has the biggest chance to get. We’ll need to put the explosives deeper into the ground than surface level, so we’ll need to dig some holes, but with Doctor Coomer’s strength we can take care of that. And then we’ll need to trip it, and that might pose a problem in Xen’s climate, but we can manage a chemical fuse, or. Y’know. Just burn it hot enough to explode, which.”

He ends that speech with a vague and a bit jerky wave of his hand towards Bubby.

Bubby just blinks. “Huh.”

Benrey snickers under his breath, either at a fish or at Bubby’s reaction, Gordon doesn’t know. He wouldn’t even be able to guess, since Benrey still has his back to the entire commotion.

Gordon catches himself holding his breath, so he consciously exhales slowly. It’s okay. It’s whatever. He has twelve years. He can take some detours if necessary. He can forget, even. Maybe.

“That Doctorate turns out to be for something, huh,” Bubby continues. “That does sound pretty plausible, afterall.”

“Huh,” Gordon’s turn to blink. “Wait, that’s it? You’re in now?”

“Yeah, sure,” Bubby swings his arm out, “even though I’d like to be testy for a while longer, I also want to blow things up. Outside is very large, but it severely lacks opportunities to see things explode, so I’ll have to make it happen myself now.”

That’s a tiny bit worrying, but Gordon’ll take it. He’s used to Bubby being a tiny bit worrying anyway. Wouldn’t be Bubby without it.

“Now shoo,” Bubby turns around to fiddle with his fishing rod again, carefully moving it back to the optimal position, “you chased all the fishes off. Gonna have to start my work from the beginning now. It’s hard work tricking fishes, you know.”

“Don’t tell Coomer,” Gordon warns, “I want to let him know myself.”

“Sure, sure.”

“I’m serious.”

“Aren’t you ever.”

Gordon figures he’s done all he can on that front.

Benrey catches up with him when he’s walked away dramatically for a few minutes and is now at the main street of the town. “Rudeman.”

Gordon did forget him at the piers, so that’s on him. “Sorry, but also, do you have a plan to get us home, or what? ‘Cause I don’t have my car and I’m not hitching a random ride if I can help it.”

“Gotta... find a GameStop first. Score some Sports Champions 2 for the. PS3.”

“Alright.” Gordon nods. “Wait, do you need a GameStop to transport us? Is that a thing?”

“Huh,” Benrey just looks at him, and then pulls out his brick phone.

Gordon rolls his eyes, but then catches a glimpse of the screen, and sees the digital clock. “It’s- fuck, it’s almost five! Joshua’s almost home.”

“Oh look, no GameStop on the… roadside. What’re we gonna do.”

“Benrey, you- goddamnit,” Gordon frantically pulls his phone out of his pocket. He tries to yank his right arm out of Benrey’s hold to hold it steady, but Benrey doesn’t yield. “Fucking, let me,” he unlocks it and finds Joshua’s number, which is on top, because he added ‘01’ before his name, because he’s had plenty of experiences with arranging files so they don’t disappear on him, “c’mon, c’mon… Hey Joshie! Are you at school right now?”

“Hi Dad, yes,” Joshua answers, at the same time Gordon registers that he’s walking, Benrey pulling on his arm.

“Sorry I called in the middle of class, buddy, but we’re gonna. I’m gonna be a bit late home, okay? I’m outside right now, but I’m on my way- oh, no, we.”

They’re in his living room. Gordon puts his arm, just released, on top of the couch. This is his couch. The bowl of cereal he finished right before Benrey dragged him out’s still on the table. The PS3 lays silent in the TV cabinet, as it’s always been. He does go around the table to put his free hand on all of these things just to be sure.

“Dad?” Joshua asks from the other end of the line. “Are you okay?”

“I.” Gordon dry swallows. “No, yeah I- I got home. Me and Benrey were out for a bit and we got? Lost? But we found our way back, and I’m. I’m home now. I was really worried I wouldn’t make it back in time to open the door for you, so I called! But I’m home now.”

“That’s good!” Joshua says, even though Gordon can still hear worry in his voice. Sweet kid, his boy is. “Thank you for telling me in ad-advance.”

“I’m sorry I interrupted your class. Dad’ll be more careful next time.”

“It’s okay. What are we having tonight?”

Gordon takes a deep breath, holds it in for a moment, and then breathes it out, slowly. “We can have mac and cheese again, or we can try our hand at naan and make some soup to go with it,” he says, willing his voice to calm down. “We still have the yeast Ms. Juney gave us last month, right? We can go get bread flour when you’re home.”

“Okay.”

“Go back to class, buddy. See you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah. Can we have chowder tonight too?”

Gordon laughs. “We’ll look into it, but sure! If we can find the ingredients for it. Alright, bye now. Love you, honey.”

“Okay,” Joshua says again, and when Gordon’s about to move the phone from his ear, he adds, “Love you too, Dad.” And then he hangs up.

Gordon goes to the couch and sits down. He’s maybe cradling his phone a bit. It’s still warm from him gripping on it way too hard. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

“That went well, huh,” Benrey says, from the hallway. Gordon looks up to see him closing the door behind him, what looks like a copy of Sports Champions 2 for the PS3 in hand.

Gordon laughs, again, for real this time. “That’s- where'd you even get that?

---

They did make naan, or a version of it. Joshua likes messing with flour, Gordon caught him walking his fingers through the bowl, leaving tiny “footprints”. They couldn’t agree on a fish to put in the chowder, so they shelved that plan and bought some canned beef-and-vegetables soup instead. The naan turned out… fine. They tasted enough like naan, and Gordon only burned like two. Which was maybe thanks to the apartment’s stove top burning a bit less hot than it did the last time they used it; Gordon made a mental note to check on the gas or. Whatever one does. When that happened. He just needed to look up a number, call it, and stand next to the (hopefully) professional who would come while they did their work.

Benrey sat at the couch while the Freemans cooked and ate their dinner, either being on his phone or scrolling idly through the PS3’s library. Joshua asked if he could try and throw naan pieces into Benrey’s mouth from the kitchen table, which Gordon allowed, but with the preset limit of only three pieces, and the condition that he picked up the ones that missed himself. He then asked Benrey very politely if he could open his mouth to catch the bread, and then made a lot of mental calculations before throwing each piece. The first one missed, but the other two were snatched up by Benrey in a somewhat shark-like display, which Joshua clapped excitedly for.

Gordon heard Benrey come to the kitchen table, which Joshua was wiping off with the designated kitchen rag (the fourth one this month alone; it feels like someone’s eating them as they’re replaced sometimes), while he was cleaning the dishes. “Hey lil’ gamer dude,” Benrey said, and Gordon could hear him rustle around in a pocket of his puffy vest. “Scored big in the. Minigame.”

“Thank you,” Joshua replied politely.

“Here’s your price,” Benrey said. Gordon assumed Joshua was holding out his hands to receive whatever Benrey gave him, because he couldn’t hear any noise that thing made, just Joshua’s little excited gasp.

“It’s like the... Intarna-Internation… nal… Space Station!”

“Huh,” Gordon could hear Benrey blink, “that’s what it is…”

“Yeah! These are, here, they’re solar panels! They charge the batteries in here.”

“Nice.”

“Thank you Benrey!”

“Yeah, GG.” And then Benrey shuffled back to the couch, if Gordon interpreted the noises correctly.

Joshua held onto the price trinket until he asked Gordon to put it in the tool cabinet, along with the cake moulds and decoration kit courtesy of Gordon’s hectic MIT years. It was… Gordon could see why Joshua thought that was where it should go. It could be considered a cookie cutter, if the shape weren’t kinda suboptimal for a cookie. It also did look like the ISS, with wings and all.

Nobody in this household’s baked anything sweet in this apartment for at least a year, but. Well. Never say no to free, reusable stuff.

Gordon’s phone vibrates when he’s just sat down at the kitchen table again, a mug of garbage instant coffee in hand. He abandons it to go get his phone from where it’s charging on the living room table.

It’s Coomer. “It’s Coomer,” Gordon says out loud. “That’s weird- he’s. He doesn’t call.”

“He’s calling. Now.” Benrey says from where he’s sitting, on the couch. Gordon takes a deep breath and doesn’t deign it worth a rebuttal. He accepts the call instead.

“Hello Gordon! I heard you want to blow Xen up.”

Gordon pinches the bridge of his nose. “Bubby told you.”

“He did! In great details!”

“I- alright, whatever, I didn’t expect actual results with that one anyway.” Gordon remembers about his coffee. He comes back to where it’s waiting for him on the kitchen table, and takes himself a generous sip, letting it burn his mouth. “Fuck!” He sets the cup down maybe a bit forcefully. “Oh that’s a bad decision. What did- what did he tell you?”

Coomer takes a moment to gather his thoughts, leaving a blank minute where sounds of the wind and waves on the shore come through his mic. Gordon hopes he isn’t thinking about sleeping out there tonight, for the full nature flavor or whatever. “ A large part of his speech was about explosion! And how big and grand it would be. And also about how much he fucking hates Xen!”

“Glad we agree on that front,” Gordon mumbles.

“So am I! I also fucking hate Xen!”

“That’s. That’s fair, really, it’s a garbage place. But- did he, like. Have you heard anything about the actual plan? Did he tell you anything about the actual plan I definitely mentioned to him?”

Coomer pauses for another moment, probably to recall. “Nope! Not a word about a plan-”

“I fucking knew it,” Gordon mumbles.

“-though that is very thorough of you, Gordon!”

"Okay, listen,” Gordon picks his mug of coffee up and starts pacing. “I actually don’t… have all of it yet. I know me and Benrey are in,” he flicks his gaze to Benrey again, who does nothing to deny the statement, “and Bubby’s now in as well. I still need to- okay, the plan’s basically that we find or make enough explosive for the ten asteroids on Xen, we bury it at the core of said asteroids, and we blow that up so it blows Xen up. I have- I don’t know the specifics of how to make that much explosive yet, but I’ll convince Darnold somehow, and if he sits this one out then we’ll borrow his lab when he’s not using it. And I’ll ask Tommy about a way back to Xen, his. His dad’s done that plenty. He doesn’t seem to like Xen much, right? That’s the impression I got, so we can spin this into us doing him a favor or something. And then we transport the explosive to Xen, I can borrow a truck for that, I know someone, and then we dig into the ground there, that’s where we can really use your superstrength, and then we put the explosive in and. Set it on fire. Bubby, uh, agreed to take care of that.”

Another beat of silence follows Gordon’s speech. He seems to have been making that one a lot recently, mostly to himself, in his room, while writing things down in his notebook. He finds himself chewing on his own lip, so he makes himself stop and takes another gulp of the coffee, which has thankfully cooled down to gulp-appropriate temperature.

When Coomer speaks again, he seems to have chosen his words carefully. “I will need to ‘sleep’ on this, Gordon. You are right in your assessment that you do not have your plan together yet!”

Gordon takes a deep breath. “It’s okay,” he says, as much to Coomer as to himself. “It’s true. It’s half-thought up right now. I still need to figure out- figure out Darnold and Tommy and Mr. Coolatta. I, yeah,” his voice’s dropped to a mumble by now, “I think I need to sleep on it too.”

“Gordon.” The rustles that accompany Coomer’s voice gives the impression that he’s sitting down onto the pebble-littered beach as he speaks. “I would like to see Xen obliterated, and I think we can get it done.”

“That’s,” Gordon stops on his pacing in the kitchen, “That’s not. It’s okay if you’re not interested, Coomer. You don’t have to walk it back on me.”

“Please do not question my fucking hatred for Xen, Gordon.”

“O-okay.”

“But I am not in favor of hazy dreams anymore. I have gotten to see a lot during my ‘honeymoon’, and now I have broken free, and mere words on a script cannot placate me. I would like to see proof that it’s possible before I participate.”

Gordon takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

“I believe you can do it, Gordon!”

“Thank you,” Gordon says, a little bit dazed, while Bubby’s voice comes through from a distance at the same time, “Are you reciting poetry again?”

“In what distant deeps or skies, burnt the fire of thine eyes?” Coomer answers. “On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire?”

“Stop praising that tiger while I’m right here!”

“I’ll,” Gordon says before Coomer can get fully caught up in Bubby’s antics again, “I’ll come back to you with. The details. When I’ve hashed it out. Thanks for,” he exhales, “thanks for holding out for me, Coomer.”

“So it is, Gordon, so it will be!”

Coomer hangs up there, and Gordon sits down at the kitchen table again. He finishes the mug of coffee in one long gulp. It’s gone a little bit more room-temperature than he likes.

“Sleep on it,” he mumbles, “good advice.”

“You should. Do that.” Benrey says from the couch. “Sleep good for body for soul.”

“You know what, when you’re right,” Gordon says, and stands up and goes brush his teeth. He then sits down at his work table and writes down questions until four in the morning.

---

Gordon used to suck at making phone calls. He’s kind of a champion at it now.

Funny thing is there’s an epiphany to it as well: he didn’t grow up with cell phones, so making phone calls was a hierarchical thing for him until he was like. Twenty years old. Kids used the landline when absolutely necessary only, and adults used it whenever they damn well pleased, because they paid for it and they had businesses to take care of . And Gordon was… not much of a rule breaker, surprisingly enough. Oh he fell short of where rules lay plenty, but he didn’t really intentionally break them. So he took calls when his parents said he could and when he absolutely needed to, and that habit persisted well into his adulthood.

He might also just be not very good at holding his tongue when speaking and. That was no good for phone calls. Kiddies phone calls. ‘cause he just realized one day that adults said whatever the fuck they wanted on the phone really, and nobody chastised them for it, no divine punishment, no sudden death round.

A sermon on self-love, that was; Gordon just takes phone calls now. Worst case scenario, he just turns his brain off and lets his mouth do its work. When people don’t presume they know better than him, they don’t presume he’s talking out of his ass ninety percent of the time.

That’s- that’s what he thought. Gordon’s wrong, a little bit. He can be wrong. Has been wrong plenty before. He can correct himself, here, he’s gonna do it right now: worst case scenario, he has to recite his plan, conceived so far in total isolation from anyone he knows and whose opinions he cares about, to the person who’s the most skittish and averse to what his plan is bringing about among those people, over the phone, where he can’t see and gauge body language and facial expressions.

Gordon would… like to meet Darnold face to face for this. But. It’s work. It’s, well, it’s closer to work than to play, given that he’s gotten mildly stressed out over it, and their lunch at the only Taco Bell in the whole desert is strictly pleasant, not-work talk only. And Gordon really, really enjoys those lunch dates, because he never has to think about damage control or having an identity crisis in the middle of one. They’re just nice, normal, a tiny bit shouty (the Taco Bell is usually packed and the acoustic’s not good, but it’s a Taco Bell, and it’s a ritual now), mostly jovial, lunch with a friend, eating subpar food he’s learned to enjoy. They don’t talk about what happened at Black Mesa, they don’t talk about work in general, they don’t even talk about soda outside of appraising the gaudy color combinations for any new sponsored drink. They talk about Joshua, about Darnold’s cat Lumbar Support, about Coomer and Bubby’s travelling, about new game releases, about Sega vs. Nintendo, about the weather.

Gordon doesn’t want to fall short of where the rules lie, not this time. So he calls.

“Doctor Freeman?” Darnold answers with the title, which sets the tone pretty well. Gordon takes a deep breath and steels himself.

“Doctor Pepper.” He pauses. “Darnold. Hey. I, uh, I’ve got a thing I wanna ask.”

“Go ahead!” Darnold goes quiet for a moment, to finish his sandwich, Gordon’d guess. He’s called in the middle of Darnold’s lunch break. “I must preface however that we’re working outside of office hours, and I can only advise you at the moment. Anything further will have to go through the… official channels.”

“Okay, that’s alright. I just.” Gordon worries his lips. He realizes he’s tugging pretty hard on his left sleeve; he makes himself let go. “I have a. Plan. That’ll need your expertise.”

“I’d be delighted to help then! Feel free to share more.”

“It’s about, uh.” Gordon takes another deep breath. He’s been consuming a lot of oxygen recently. “IwanttoblowXenup?”

Darnold goes, predictably, quiet for a moment. It doesn’t sting less when it’s predictable.

When he speaks again, it’s in a clipped, professional-but-barely tone. “Please say that again, but slowly.”

Gordon closes his eyes against the sunlight streaming in from the window in his bedroom. “I want to. Blow Xen up.”

“Gordon,” Darnold sighs. “Doctor Freeman.”

“I know.”

“Your megalomaniacal tendencies have grown since we last met.”

“It’s not- I’m not doing it for fun!” Gordon throws his free arm up. “Okay, this is genuinely a lot of effort and stress for something I’d do for pleasure, Darnold. I also couldn’t care less about fucking Xen - okay that’s not true, I’ve lost like a week of sleep over blowing it up, that’s not not caring, but like. I can’t. I need it to not be there,” he stands up from his bed and starts pacing, “and I have. A plan. Half of one. About that much. So it’s not hopeless-”

“Gordon, please slow down.”

“-as long as I have your help and- and Tommy’s, okay, I will. uh.” He taps on his thigh with his free hand too, for good measure. Go the whole nine yard with fidgeting, why not. “I. So, Joshua wants to be an astronaut,” he intones, and for the first time in a while he’s reminded again of how this started, how it took over his life for a hot minute, and it almost gives him the hiccups, “and. Y’know. Xen is in space. So it needs to not be there anymore. So I want to. Blow it up.”

Darnold goes silent again. Gordon thinks he can hear the epiphany punch the air out of him. Fuck, he hates phone calls.

“As much as I want to berate you about how you’re treating this matter and yourself,” Darnold resumes primly after a moment, “my lunch break is ending in exactly fifty-two seconds, and this sandwich will take me another two bites to get through. I’ll see you in the Taco Bell’s parking lot at three AM this afternoon, Gordon. Drink water.”

He hangs up. Gordon goes drink water.

Benrey clips into the apartment when Gordon’s on his third mug of iced water. “Whoa, hydration streak,” he says, settling himself on the kitchen table.

“I can go a bit crazy,” Gordon mumbles. “I’m allowed a little bit of funk and insanity. This is my house.”

“It’s… actually. MFA’s.”

Gordon groans. “Don’t fucking remind me. I tried to forget that. Also it actually belongs to the NRC, since they apparently can just scare MFA into giving employees housing, which I’m really fucking horrified by, but I’m choosing to not think about it, and you can’t make me.”

“It can be mine soon.”

“Do not attack and dethrone Nils Diaz.”

Benrey huffs. “Killjoy Freeman.” He shifts his pose so he’s sitting up straighter. “You wanna… try out Premium Water? Free trial for a week, you can manually cancel your. Subscription. After.”

Gordon stares at him. “What’s Premium Water.”

Benrey opens his jaws, wide, showing his teeth. He points inside as if there’s anything Gordon wants to find at all in there at the moment. Then he closes it with a click and stares back at Gordon.

Gordon just sighs. “No, Benrey.”

“Guaranteed beddy bye time, no charge,” Benrey blinks at him. “Black Mesa Sweet Voice™ a hundred percent effective. Five stars… satisfaction… rating.”

“You’re fucking lying, because I’d never leave it five stars. You get three at best.”

“Gonna catch you when you fall off the. Chair. Gonna be romantic.”

Gordon laughs. “No, not allowed.” He sighs and finishes the mug of water like it’s mead and he’s some Dungeons and Dragons elven ranger. He gives himself brain freeze. “Ah, fuck, oof,” he slaps his own forehead, “bad decision. Bad decision. Okay, I. I appreciate you asking instead of just going for it, but that’s the reality of asking, right? The person you ask can say no. And you’ve just gotta learn how to deal with it.”

Benrey just keeps staring at him, but he’s used to that now. It’s only a tiny bit unnerving. “How’s learning’s... satisfaction rate.”

Gordon sighs again. “It sucks ass. Fucking hate learning.”

Benrey grins at him, and then he checks his phone and it’s already time to go.

“Drink this,” Darnold says immediately when Gordon climbs into the shotgun seat of his car, and holds out a beaker of bubbling purple liquid.

Gordon just stares at it. “Darnold, what is this.”

Darnold sighs. “It’s the Potion of Not Telling. I also drank a sample before coming here,” he holds up an empty beaker with some of the same purple liquid at the bottom. “It blows us up if we tell our employers what we’re up to.”

Gordon ponders this very carefully. “Does. Tommy, for example. Does he count as my ‘employer’?”

“No,” Darnold says. “‘Employers’ only cover people and/or establishments you’re currently under an employee contract with and receiving salary from.”

“Alright,” Gordon intones carefully, and downs the whole beaker. It tastes like… the jello packaged like seahorses Tommy brings over sometimes. The red ones, specifically. It makes him feel a bit bloated, immediately, and he rubs his side a bit anxiously when he sits down in the car. “You’re actually under NDAs at all times, huh,” he says, as an opening line.

“Same as you, Gordon.” Darnold takes the beaker back from Gordon’s hand and puts it in with the other one. “Black Mesa seeked me out and offered to find me a position in a brewery, as well as fund any of my independent ventures, as long as I do not say a word about what… transpired… back there. The official record’s that I was stranded on an island with curious dino-esque creatures for four years, instead of worked in Black Mesa’s mixology department, and honed my craft with their help, using the fruits native to that island.”

Gordon laughs, and rubs his face with the prosthetic hand. It’s like putting your face on the car’s dashboard. “Sounds like them alright. At least yours sounds exciting, instead of fucking insane. They said I was ‘chasing an entropy in the desert’ and it ‘ate my hand’. What the fuck does that even mean?”

“We attempted feats of miracle, only it was not under their accountability,” Darnold says, “and we were punished for it. No matter, we have more important things at hand. What is this plan you’ve cooked up, Gordon?”

Gordon takes a deep breath, finding it easier than it’s been for a while, and relays what he’s got down of the blow-Xen-up plan to Darnold. They never look at each other meanwhile, both staring at the cars lined up haphazardly in the lane across from them, Gordon in a barren calmness as words leave his mouth, Darnold with his arms crossed in front of his chest, his whole presence compacted into a contemplative, silent piece.

“That is an intense reaction to a faraway threat, Gordon,” Darnold says when Gordon’s speech is over. “Xen is not only at least a galaxy away, but also a few dimensions over, if I understand the briefing right. I haven’t thought about that wretched place for almost a year.”

“Sorry,” Gordon says, not really feeling any of it, but making the effort.

“You don’t have to. I understand where you’re coming from.” Darnold taps idly on his own arm. “I was… extracted… swiftly from Black Mesa after I met you and your friends. I did not witness what happened after, but I saw… enough.” He takes a deep breath as well. “We can all have intense reactions to anything.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not maladaptive,” Gordon says. He’s gone to therapy. It was really good for helping him build a system that filters out the things that actually fucks him up and makes some sense of the rest, but it doesn’t lift him out of the comedy of his life itself. It can’t. That’s not what therapy’s for.

“Indeed,” Darnold says. “But I can’t be the judge of that. My domain lies with potion mixing, and I dare say I am a true expert at it, but I can’t claim expertise at other people’s life. Especially not yours.”

“I get it,” Gordon nods. The world kinda bobs a tiny bit when he does that. “I. Know not to indulge my impulse mostly. But sometimes decisions come back to haunt me, and those are usually just about choosing one furniture over another, or tying my shoelaces in the bunny ears way instead of the circle way and having them undone in the middle of a meeting and stepping on them and falling on my face, but this time it’s. It’s Joshua’s life. And there’s just no limit anymore to what can happen, not since.” He swallows. “Black Mesa.”

Darnold nods.

Gordon blinks. “I know it’s a little bit crazy.”

“It might be,” Darnold says, “but as a famous mixologist once said: nothing ventured, nothing gained. Even if that gain is just your peace of mind.”

Gordon lets out the breath he isn’t even aware he’s been holding. “Thank you.”

“You do not need to,” Darnold smiles, “I do stand to gain from this as well, since I really need to test this flavouring that’s supposed to land on pleasantly tart on the taste scale but goes into intestine-destroyingly sour territory instead. I need to know what makes it that corrosive, and testing on humans is entirely unethical.”

---

Gordon got home before Joshua. Benrey’s also not home. He lays down on the couch and takes a nap.

He wakes to a quilt over most of him, light turned on in the living room and in the kitchen, and silent chatter. His sense of smell kicks in a minute or so into him still laying on the couch, blinking up at the ceiling; he smells fish sauce and sugar cooking.

“Tommy’s over,” he mumbles.

“He awakes,” Benrey says, seemingly into thin air. Gordon feels the couch shift minutely as Benrey makes to stand up from where he’s sitting leaning back on it. “Good eatin’. I’ll go get the. Food. Coloring.”

When Gordon’s gathered enough of himself to sit up, Benrey’s nowhere to be seen. Tommy’s shifting something animatedly on the stove, while Joshua carefully carries one bowl at a time to the kitchen table.

“Hey Dad!” Joshua says when he catches Gordon’s eyes. He puts the bowl he’s carrying down to free his hand for waving. Gordon waves back.

“Hey Joshie, hey Tommy. What’re you guys making?”

“Caramelized pork b-belly!” Tommy says from his stove station. “And... sautéed vegetable medley.”

“With rice!” Joshua adds.

“A perfectly balanced meal.”

“I picked the vege-ta-bles!”

Gordon folds the quilt to busy his hands. This one’s definitely not his. He may have one somewhere in the closet, but it hasn’t made an appearance in… six months. He thinks. “What did you get for us, buddy?”

“Carrot!” Joshua holds up a finger. “It has a lot of vita- vitamin… A.”

“Awesome,” Gordon says and goes over to the kitchen table to high five Joshua. “What else did you choose?”

“String beans!”

“Oh?” Joshua hasn’t been much for that.

“Uncle Tommy’s gonna teach me how to eat them!”

“A dash of- of flavour, packed in one Kn●rr’s Complete Seasoning packet, is all you’ll need!” Tommy switches to a lower voice when Gordon peers over his shoulder at the pan on the stove. “That is not true. Kn●rr is only… fit to be- be on the floor.”

“Are- you’re not putting that in then?”

“No, I just use salt and pepper.”

Joshua giggles. Tommy extends a hand that Joshua can slap on in place of a high five.

Gordon gets out the utensils - spoon for Joshua, chopsticks for him and Tommy - and brings the rice cooker to the table once the light’s jumped to orange. He plates the pork, scooping Joshua’s helping into his personal plate first, while Tommy finishes with the vegetables. Tommy lets Joshua choose which vegetables to go on his plate; Joshua bravely gets a little bit of everything.

They eat dinner on top of companionable conversation, Gordon and Tommy taking turns asking Joshua about school and other things.

“I heard you want to- to be an astronaut,” Tommy asks. Joshua dutifully finishes his mouthful before answering.

“Yes! I want to go to space!”

“Do you want to meet- aliens?”

“Yeah!” Joshua’s excitement cools down a little bit as he scoops up another spoonful of rice with a piece of string bean carefully balanced on top. “I read the Wiki-pea-dia about it though. They say there’s no dis-discernable e-vidence of aliens yet. We sent the Voyager Golden Records an’ they haven’t… answered yet.”

“That’s how p-physical mails are,” Tommy smiles while getting himself a piece of the caramelized pork. “It used to take… weeks... before we hear from our friends who are far away. And the- the universe doesn’t have a… an Everywhere Wifi Network yet.”

Joshua shares a conspiratory look with Gordon and mouths not yet . Gordon laughs. Gordon’s clutching his bowl maybe a bit too tight.

“You can become an astronaut and- meet aliens. In space,” Tommy waves his chopsticks with a flourish.

“I’ll teach them what- what e-mails are!”

“It’ll take a- a lot of hard work, and you have to be able to eat string beans.” Tommy takes an exaggerated look at Joshua’s plate, now cleaned of food. “Oh! Would you l-look at that! Mister Joshua Freeman is… perfect astronaut materials, according to… the NASA guidelines.”

Joshua beams with a pride that knocks something loose in Gordon’s chest.

They finish dinner and clean up together, then Gordon sends Joshua back to his room to do his homework, agreeing to an hour of video game after if he can get it done before nine. Gordon cleans the dishes while Tommy puts the kettle on and makes them both hot chocolate.

“I bought some-something for Joshua today,” Tommy prompts. Gordon looks back to see him hold up the exact same cookie-cutter-thing Benrey gave Joshua the other day.

“Oh- oh my god.” Gordon laughs. “Holy shit?”

“Wh-what’s the matter, Gordon?”

“Do you guys have like a hivemind or something?” Gordon pulls off a glove to open the tool cabinet and pull Benrey’s gift out. “Benrey gave Joshua this. I don’t even- what’re these supposed to be? Where d’you guys even get them from?”

“It’s the- International Space Station Biscuit Cutter!” Tommy puffs out his chest, slightly indignant, but definitely bemused as well. “They’re issued by- NASA, cut from the s-scrap metal of the hulls of… prototype spaceships. They’re very rare!”

Gordon stares at the one in his hand. “And now we have two of them.”

“They’re… very valuable! You can sell them for a high price.”

Gordon smiles. He puts Benrey’s apparently rare and expensive gift back into the tool cabinet and puts the glove back on. “You’ve gotta ask Joshua about that. It’s for him, afterall.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, crumbled into grains only by the click-clack of dishes in the sink and the water running from the faucet. Gordon weaves himself into a solid piece of nerve, bracing, bracing.

Tommy’s… better acquainted with the crazies of these things than most, maybe. He’s apparently said “fuck it” to the administrative work that his dad would’ve liked to hand back to him at one point, and just. Got a PhD in nuclear physics instead. Gordon’s been through something like that, and from experience he can tell that it would’ve taken real nerve to do it. He also can tell that no matter what it still rubs off on you, and you don’t recover from that kinda consistent exposure to idiosyncrasies, because you don’t ever feel like there’s anything to recover from , really. It’s just how it is, and the world’s off-kilter, not you. Like Benrey, Tommy’s world runs on a different axis, and he and the rest of them are, in many ways, looking both through strange eyes.

Gordon’s a little bit jealous of that. He’s honestly not sure if he can ever fully get Tommy, but then. Plenty of people never get him, and here he is. He can learn to wear it as well as Tommy, one day.

Right now though. Tommy’s important to the plan. Gordon knows that, in a theoretical way. Ha, theoretical…

“I would like to not be insane,” Gordon says, more to himself, at the same time as Tommy setting his cup of hot chocolate down and saying, “Benrey… told me.”

“Oh… I. That’s? Good?”

“Wha- you’re not insane , Gordon!” Tommy waves his hand. Gordon can hear it, even if he can’t see it. “You’re… creative.”

“Thanks Tommy,” Gordon says with a huff of laughter that he doesn’t think reaches Tommy at all. “I. I get it though. I got Bubby to turn around on it, but everyone else did say that it’s a little bit fucked up that I thought of doing that at all.”

“But they… agreed on helping you anyway.”

Gordon taps on the metal wall of the sink. “That’s… yeah. Well, other than Coomer.”

“Doctor Coomer doesn’t think you’re crazy,” Tommy protests. “He just has... boundaries.”

“That’s fair. He’s allowed that. He more than deserves that.” Gordon blinks. “Wait- why am I arguing down on my side? I need you to be on board for the plan to work.” He laughs, bowing down over the sink. He’s shaking a little bit. “Wow. I’m a little bit gone. Can I be a little bit gone?”

“You’re… totally allowed, Gordon” He feels Tommy tug on his elbow. With a deep breath, he lets go of where he’s gripping on the edge of the sink with white knuckles, and lets Tommy lead him to the kitchen table. He dutifully sits himself down on a chair, lets Tommy take off the gloves, and holds the cup of hot chocolate Tommy pushes into his hands carefully. “It’s your house.”

“It’s MFA’s.”

“It’s yours,” Tommy says, determinedly, and Gordon takes a deep breath and sidesteps every implications that has. “You can have your fears, and… and your plans, and your hopes. For Joshua. It’s your place, Gordon.”

Gordon takes a shaky sip of the hot chocolate. Tommy puts on the gloves and finishes washing the dishes for him.

“Sorry,” Gordon says, mostly aiming at the dishes thing, but. He also just kinda wants to put that out there.

“There’s nothing to be… be sorry for,” Tommy replies, amidst the noises of the dishes and the water running.

Tommy talks while Gordon drinks his hot chocolate; in the end, whether he wants to or not, he’s accepted a bit of the job the Gman holds. Gordon knows this, that’s how Tommy vouched for and kept the Science Team from a much worse fate than relative freedom except for a story no sane man’d believe anyway. Mister Coolatta Senior seemed to be impressed by the choice, aside from all the worries that come with it.

“He’s… he’s proud of me,” Tommy says, softly. “I know he only wants what’s best for me.”

“He’s been awfully accommodating,” Gordon says, remembering about the movie night they had after Tommy’s birthday bash last year. That man pulled a gun on him. As if he’d walk out on Tommy, if Tommy’d asked for him to stay around.

“He… doesn’t involve me… with his problems,” Tommy says. “Some parents do that.”

Gordon can’t find anything to say to that, so he finishes his hot chocolate.

“I got a vote when they brought Xen up the-the other day,” Tommy says, when the dishes have all been cleaned and put on the rack to dry. He pulls out the chair next to Gordon and picks up his cup of hot chocolate. It’s still steaming, somehow. “I-they were thinking it was- it’s too risky to leave a bridging point open like that. They want to… demolish it.”

Gordon chuckles, and then it becomes a full body laugh, and then he’s curling up on himself, the empty cup between his hands. He shouldn’t clutch it like this, it might break. He’s broken the handle off of a mug before, when one of his old prosthetic wasn’t calibrated perfectly. He can’t stop laughing though. Not enough to let go of the cup now.

“Holy shit,” he wheezes. “holy motherfucking shit. We’re doing it. We’re doing it? Xen’s fucking going down.”

“It sure is!” Tommy says, and claps a polite golf clap for Gordon’s victory.

---

Gordon does have shit he needs to do for the online classes he teaches, but outside of it he’s still way too idle. He and Joshua go to the aquarium and the museum whenever the schedule works out, and once in a while they drive by Roswell to catch a plane taking off into the sky, and he does grocery runs and tries to clean around the house and do laundry on a timetable, and there’s always the PS3 Benrey dragged back that’s now public good, as well as his probably too long Steam list, but. Gordon’s shit at talking himself into and out of doing things. Sometimes it just doesn’t feel right to start doing something, so there’s a black hole of time between him thinking “I should get to this” and him actually doing it. And Joshua’s life isn’t just him; his son’s going to school now, and he’s made friends at school, and he talks to them on the phone and goes hang out with them on weekend afternoons.

Gordon’s not as good at holding onto time anymore, now that things’ve. Changed.

So figuring the explosives out’s been good for him. It’s just what he does back in uni again, except without a supervisor, without having to write anything down properly (just legibly’s enough), and without peer review. It’s mostly math, but with the spirit of two middle schoolers stealing sodium crumbs from the school lab to throw into puddles. It’s closer to play than he expected. Closer than playing Horse Simulator 3D on the PS3.

He and Darnold spend the day building the corrosion rate equation, pouring Darnold’s concoction on rocks Gordon figures have the same make-up as the ground on Xen. Benrey doesn’t bring the venture up often, but every other day Gordon finds clumps of dirt and random rocks that weigh suspiciously little for their size in his glove compartment. He brings those in for the pour test as well, and they build a simulation based on them.

Balancing the corrosion with the heat’s a bit tricky; Gordon needs to know how hot Bubby’s ignition can go, since their number’s high. He was about to shoot Bubby a call when Coomer’s latest photo arrived. Gordon recognized the street in it.

They put the project on hold for an afternoon so Tommy and Darnold can have the lab to decontaminate Coomer and Bubby. Gordon spends that afternoon getting the air fryer he ordered last week out of the box while Benrey reads the manual out loud wrongly. He calls Joshua to let him know they’re having guests over that evening, thankfully in the middle of the school recess this time. Gordon tries to remember Joshua’s exact timetable at school, he really does. It’s just not fruitful a task.

When Joshua arrives home, Gordon’s in the middle of arguing with Bubby over how much water’s left in air fried food. “Hey Granpa! Hey Bubby!” Joshua waves at Coomer and Bubby, “hey Uncle Tommy! Hey Doctor Darnold! Hey Benrey! Hey Dad!”

Gordon steals the chance to close the air fryer while Bubby’s joining in with the “Hey Joshua!” chorus and distracted. “We’re making spring rolls and egg rolls!” He calls after Joshua, who’s in his room putting his backpack away. “You can choose the filling yourself!”

The kitchen barely fits everyone, so comes dinnertime they move the living room table up next to the TV cabinet to make space for the spare straw mat, and lay out a tablecloth on top for good measure (Gordon’s had enough experience to remember to do that). They sit on the floor in the living room together, almost shoulder to shoulder, and at some point the conversation gets away from Gordon entirely. He just nods when Joshua points at something he wants and gets some in the bowl for him.

“I’ve heard somebody wants to become an astronaut,” He hears Coomer say at one point.

Joshua puffs out his chest proudly.

“Doesn’t everybody at some point,” Bubby says. “I wanted to be an astronaut too, when I was forty.”

“Oh I have seen the photos,” Coomer continues, a gentle light in his eyes, “It is very beautiful out there.”

Joshua asks for help with his homework after dinner, and Tommy and Darnold sit down with him for that. Benrey joins Gordon at the sink while he’s pouring dish soap into one of the large bowls they used. He doesn’t know what to do but blink at him, dumbfounded.

“Check this out,” Benrey says, and spits lime green into the sink. When the light clears, the dishes have become spotless.

Gordon stares at the sink. “I- you- th- is that- you can do that? ” He points at the plates. leaning on the sink’s edge.

Benrey grins. “New… new skill acquired bro. Just got the EXP for it.”

“You spent your EXP on dish cleaning ?”

“We should conserve water, Gordon!” Coomer declares from behind him next to the kitchen table. “Water shortage is caused by corporate greed, but with certain individual actions we can improve the situation ourselves!”

“Please don’t kill Mark Schneider.”

“Worry not, Doctor Freeman! His death will not be by my hand directly!”

Gordon laughs, helplessly. “Everything happens so much,” he laments, only semi-jokingly, as he takes off the cleaning gloves and puts the plates on the rack.

“Keep up, Doctor Freeman,” Bubby says.

“They certainly do,” Coomer says, much more nicely. “I’ve heard your plan is soon coming to fruition!”

Gordon nods. “Yeah, it’s. Yeah. We were,” he swallows, “Darnold and I, we were about to ask for Bubby to let us test his fire. Figure out if he can reach the ignition point we need.”

“Well now, that sounds like a challenge,” Bubby says.

Gordon finds a price tag still stuck on one of the bowls that he’s very sure wasn’t there when it was brought out. “Benrey,” he groans. Benrey just gives him a shit eating grin. “You’ll need to hold a temperature for about three minutes, and then the mixture takes care of the rest,” he says to Bubby, while swatting Benrey on the shoulder.

“Just three minutes, isn’t it.”

“Do not try and stay for more. I’m serious. When it explodes it’s gonna turn seriously corrosive. You’re gonna be sludge ten seconds after it gets on you.”

Gordon can hear Bubby blink. “Oh- oh. This is serious huh. We are blowing Xen up.”

“We are, darling,” Coomer affirms.

Bubby shifts on his chair. “I’ll need. A minute.”

When Gordon’s done with the dishes, he turns back to the kitchen table to catch Bubby letting go of Coomer after a hug. “Son of a bitch, you went for it, you motherfucker,” Bubby says, a bit too loudly, fixing his glasses.

Benrey sings a very high note over his voice. “Language!” Gordon hisses.

“Oh, sorry.” Bubby pats his own mouth. “Forgive a man, I’m still working through it.” He switches to a mumble, seemingly only to himself. “It’s real. I’m gonna set Xen on fire. Gonna show Black Mesa what for. It’s really gonna happen…”

Coomer pats Bubby on the back lightly, making him almost hit his face on the table. “We’ll finally move fully away from the game, my dear Professor,” he says, and he’s smiling. He’s smiling very wide.

“I can be your Professor,” Bubby mumbles. “I can blow Xen up.”

“ We can blow Xen up,” Gordon corrects him. “Me and Darnold didn’t agonize over a- darn modifier for a week and a half so you can set our work on fire and take all the credits.”

“Hush, let me process things, you rude bastard.” Benrey censors bastard with another burst of pinkish light.

“I can see the other end,” Coomer says, cheerfully. “Now, Gordon, I’ve heard you need help digging into the core of a few asteroids?”

---

They mark a date for the excursion.

He ‘woke up’ early, and made himself and Joshua an actual breakfast for a change while Benrey finished off the box of cereal that was open. “Dad’s got a work thing coming up,” he told Joshua while scooping extra egg onto his plate. “I’m gonna have to stay on site for a night.”

“So you’re not going home tonight?” Joshua asked, taking the plate handed to him by Gordon, but making no move to go back to his chair.

Gordon nodded. “I’ll be home tomorrow though, but you’re gonna have to stay at your grandparents’ tonight. I’m gonna come pick you up at their place tomorrow afternoon. You should pack a spare change of clothes and your pajamas to bring to school.”

“Okay,” Joshua said. And then, “What’re you staying on-site for?”

“I’m,” Gordon said, “Okay, you can’t tell anyone this, yeah? I’m blowing asteroids up.”

He could see Joshua’s eyes brighten. It was visible . “ In space ?”

“Yes,” Gordon laughed. “But it’s very experimental, which means…”

“It’s not ready for the public eye yet,” Joshua whispered, almost reverently.

Gordon laughed again, and took off the mitten on his hand to ruffle Joshua’s hair. “You’re gonna be okay staying at your grandparents’ place? If you don’t like that I can ask someone else to come over instead.”

“It’s okay,” Joshua said, finally content to go sit down again. “Can I bring my skate shoes?”

“Sure thing, put them in a bag.”

Gordon called Joshua’s grandparents to let them know to pick him up at five (Joshua chimed in to ask them to remind him about the roller skates), and then Joshua got his backpack and spare clothes and bag for the shoes and the house was once again vacant.

They don’t have a vehicle, but Tommy sings and Bubby joins in and Darnold keeps a beat and after a while Benrey starts playing songs out of the shitty speaker on his phone. Gordon’s even spent the day before sleepless, but that’s kind of everyday now. He hadn’t anticipated having to get used to a day having twenty four hours again, but well. He hadn’t anticipated anything while going through Black Mesa, really. It wasn’t really ideal thinking-far-ahead environment.

Benrey seems bouncier when he’s on Xen. Gordon didn’t think about it, but when he steps through the portal he has a flash of that image from what feels like a lifetime ago: Benrey giant as the Earth itself, blocking everything else in sight, his form longing to catch up with his already immense, oppressive presence. Taller than any walls, any mountains, any barriers between himself and a measly human’s fleeting existence.

Gordon shakes his head. At his least incomprehensible, Benrey’s said it was “a show”. “Like. Cable TV. A television series,” Gordon’s asked.

“Like a cutscene,” Benrey’s replied, as if Gordon was the one too slow for the course.

Benrey now felt nothing like whatever that was that happened to him and the Science Team last year. Benrey now felt just… like a dude. Doing a barrel roll, while saying “Ooooo barrel roll” with a straight face. While his Nokia 2700’s still crushing whatever song it’s playing into oblivion.

Gordon doesn’t deal in implications anymore, so he starts singing along to whatever everyone else’s singing as well, and focuses on carrying their homemade Xen-specific dynamite blocks to where they’re going to dig their largest hole into the core of this wretched piece of rock.

It takes a day, kind of; he doesn’t sleep, out here in the thin atmosphere of Xen, where the stars don’t blink and red light comes in a hue from inside the dirt. He doesn’t have to force himself to go lay down at midnight like back home, he just sits down, at the edge of the portal, when the explosives have all been installed, and watch Coomer and Bubby ready themselves.

They can hear Bubby’s cackles ringing in Xen’s air and also in their comms, as he lays in Coomer’s arms and they race the fire, starting from the outer ring of asteroids to the main Xen island. They jump from rock to rock, red light trailing after them while the dirt itself breaks apart, not with a boom, but with the sound of bubbles breaking after a wave crashes on the shore. Xen glows brighter than it probably ever has, in its disintegration.

Benrey sings a few vacant notes, standing on nothingness; the light from his mouth blends in almost perfectly with Xen’s dying light.

“You got all of your belongings outta there?” Gordon asks, half as a jab, half serious. “Didn’t leave anything important in your old apartment?”

Benrey doesn’t answer, for a moment. When he does, it’s just to mumble, “oh look, there’s fireworks.”

---

They got home early from it.

Gordon takes a nap on the couch; he only wakes up from Benrey turning the sound up to max and then shooting a rocket at a truck in Far Cry 3. “Dude,” he throws an arm up over his face, and winces when it’s the plastic arm. “What the fuck.”

“Go pick Joshua up,” Benrey says, definitely too conversationally, and barely understandable under the noises from the game. “Gordon. Sleepman.”

“You’re slipping,” Gordon comments as he wrestles himself out of Tommy’s quilt. He forgot to give it back to Tommy, he realizes sleepily, picking up the phone he left charging on the living room table. It’s seven already.

The drive to Joshua’s grandparents’ place is not a long one. He finds Joshua sitting at the porch of the little house, backpack and the bag with the roller skates at his feet. Joshua jumps up at the sight of Gordon’s car, and before he can walk through the gate he’s already found his arms full of his son.

Joshua clings to his neck with a death grip. “I’m sorry I’m late,” Gordon says. “I was tired, so I took a nap, and forgot the time.”

“It’s okay,” Joshua mumbles, “you were tired.”

“I blew up so many asteroids though.” Gordon says, and Joshua laughs.

They drive home after saying goodbye to Joshua’s grandparents (Joshua’s grandpa put a wrapped up pot pie in Gordon’s hands with an iron grip and a gaze that communicated clearly what would happen if he refused it), and Joshua agreed to take a detour to the Roswell airport for the night. Gordon absentmindedly texts Benrey taking the kid to watch airplanes, get your own food , and puts his phone away for the drive. The radio’s on, but Joshua doesn’t sing along. Gordon’s vocal cord’s still tired from Xen (no more, Xen-no-more it is, there’s just a vast of empty space inbetween dimensions there now) so he also stays silent.

They get ice cream at a drive-thru on the way, and then they’re at the highway, parking on the roadside, looking over the rail at the airport. A plane leaves the ground there and goes into the air. Gordon’s struck by how different it is from a bird or a moth; nothing about the plane communicates any internal movement, it just. Moves. Up and up. Like a JPEG sliding across the screen under someone’s puppeteering with a mouse.

Joshua stares at the plane, unblinking. “Is it dangerous in space, Dad?” He asks.

Gordon taps his hand on the steering wheel. “It’s.” He starts saying, but stops to clear his throat. “It can be. There’s a lot of math going into making things that bring a human into space, and a lot of different people doing different parts of that math, and. Sometimes some people do their math wrong. Sometimes they try something new, and we don’t have the good math for that new thing yet. Sometimes new things break into the old math, and we need to. Work around that new thing.”

“What happens if,” Joshua swallows, “someone does the math wrong?”

“We try to catch it,” Gordon says. “That’s why there are so many people doing the math. So if someone gives the wrong answer, they can spot it early, and fix it.”

“What if nobody does,” Joshua says. He’s still looking through the car’s window, at the stroke of cloud the plane’s long flown past.

Gordon puts his hands on the gear stick. “That’s very, very rare to happen,” he intones carefully. “They have to check, over and over, before they send a ship into space.”

Joshua turns from the window to Gordon. He looks at Gordon’s prosthetic hand, on the gear stick. “I’ve only found books about spaceships that have gone to space,” he says, quiet.

Gordon turns over, and holds out that hand. Joshua climbs over the gear stick to give him another hug. “Experiments are important to those ships too,” Gordon says. “They give the people who make the ships important information to make them safe.”

Joshua just buries himself in Gordon’s arms.

“I’m really sorry I came home late and didn’t call you, Joshua,” Gordon says, and hugs his son tighter. “I won’t do that again. I’ll always call when I’m home late.”

“I don’t have to be an astronaut,” Joshua mumbles.

“Oh, no- nononono, listen,” Gordon says into his hair, with all the determination he can muster up. “Listen, Joshua, you become whoever you want to, okay? You don’t have to be anything, but you don’t have to not be anything either. That’s my mistake, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re good. You’re good. You’ll be an incredible astronaut. You’ll be the first man on Mars. Jupiter, even.”

“Jupiter is a gas giant,” Joshua mumbles. “There isn't any land to land on.”

Gordon nods. “That’s why it’s called landing , I get it.”

---

They drive home after, and Joshua asks to sit with Gordon while he and Benrey play Mario Kart. Gordon agrees, which means he has to clamp down on any curse he almost lets out when someone bumps him off the damn road, while Benrey does some magic or whatever on his screen. Who the hell knows.

After their third match, Benrey elbows Gordon in the arm to signify a break. “Beddy bye hour,” he says, not even looking at Gordon, “for… babies. Hattrick means I make the rules.”

“You didn’t come first in the second match,” Gordon argues, but quiets down when he looks down to see Joshua asleep leaning on him. “Okay, don’t fucking choose Toon Link for me again while I’m away,” he points a finger at Benrey, who’s residing smugly in the to-be-chaos of his own making. “I’m fucking serious.”

He carries Joshua to his bedroom and tucks him in, and then detours to the kitchen for some water.

“Ooh, hydration,” Benrey comments idly.

“What d’you know about it,” Gordon mumbles when he settles back down on the couch. He looks at the TV screen to find Inkling on one of the shitty bikes. “What the hell man, this bike sucks ass. Fucking Shit Taste McGee over here.”

Benrey laughs.

Gordon plays the game, while thinking about the sendoff party they��re throwing for Bubby and Coomer next week, before the grandpas go off gallivanting in yet another forbidden corner of the Earth. Coomer lovingly calls it their “honeymoon”, but Gordon has full faith this is gonna be what they do forever. Or at least until they’re bored of Earth, and start aiming for the Moon instead. Probably not a bad place to be in.

“Thinking Xen thoughts, aren’t’cha,” Benrey says, while sending a shell after some poor computer character.

Gordon grins. “Ha! Sike! I’m not even thinking about Xen.” He pauses, catching the full force of a fireball a Mario shoots at him. “I haven’t thought about Xen at all actually. Since I got home with Joshua.”

“Achievement unlocked,” Benrey says, and extends a hand. Gordon stares at it.

“Wh- huh?”

“High five, idiot.”

“Oh,” Gordon says, and slaps that hand. Benrey’s eyes widen at the noise.

“Yo that’s a. Crunchy noise.” He claps his hands together, and he’s laughing now, light flowing out in a thread of something like baby blue. “This rules,” he says happily.

Gordon smiles, and then some motherfucker flings a shell at him, so he falls off the road again.

He stays up way too late again, and time doesn’t stop slipping, and when Darnold gives him a vial of neutralizer for the Potion of Not Telling at their little party the week after it gives him something like mania and he hugs Coomer like an idiot while the old man slaps his back in a motion that’s supposed to be comforting. He sleeps that off as well afterwards, and wakes up to Tommy surfing the channels on his TV, complaining about lack of daytime talk shows. When he forgets about the scheduled blackout a month after, he still calls the concierge with shaking hands and then climbs into his bed like he’s four again and there’s a storm outside. He still thinks about Black Mesa, and about Xen.

There’s just a little addendum now, that he can remind myself of.

It’s weird how quickly it blends into everything else, but. Well. It’s weird everything .

He makes cookies again, comes the winter, and teaches himself how to decorate cookies, just to have something to do. Joshua throws his pencil onto the notebook one day to go dig out the lumpy, supposedly-ISS-shaped cookie cutters from the tool cabinet.

“Careful,” Gordon calls after him.

Joshua toddles back with the cookie cutters in hand. “Can we have ISS cookies?” He asks.

Gordon says yes. He also looks up a buncha references, prints them out, and tries to get the cookies exactly correct, making two “outside” cookies and an “inside” one, with schematics of the inner chambers of the ISS drawn on. Joshua loves it.

“Here’s where the astronauts sleep,” He points at the spot that’s supposed to be the service module, and Gordon’s proud of getting that part right on the cookie.

He ruffles Joshua’s hair again. “Hey, maybe you’ll sleep there in twenty years,” he says, and marvels at the levity to that sentence. Just a little bit. It’s washed away with Joshua’s smile, and then they busy themselves with folding bags for the cookies instead.

#hlvrai #gordon feetman #joshua freeman #benrey #tommy coolatta #dr. harold coomer #bubby #darnold pepper #fanfiction #ask to tag #+ one art inside but it mostly has to do with the fic #I will. draw more from this fic and put them in as time goes on #the formatting's a bit wack bc I just copied the formatting from ao3 #I will come back to fix stuff up later #okay now I take more naps #have a good day! and also thank you for reading this fic if you do!

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ellana-ravenwood · 5 years

Text

“What it means to be a big brother” - by Damian Wayne (Batfam x Fem!Reader)

I wanted to write a story with Damian as an older brother, and how he came to learn what it meant to…well, basically the title haha. And since quite a few of you lately asked for more Thomas, here we are. I hope you will like it :

My master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives . Links to stories where Thomas appears (for those who do not know who he is) in the author’s notes at the end of the story.

__________________________________________________

Right there, with his new little brother in his arms, standing in front of his family...Damian didn't dare to move an inch.

There wasn't a muscle in his body that wasn't tense.

In this exact position, things were going well, so he wasn't about to move. Staying like this forever sounded more and more like a good plan.

Because if he did move…There was a chance he’d drop him.

"You don't have to be so stiff you know ?"

Tim said, amused.

He was the one that was holding the baby just a few minutes ago, and was clearly not as stressed as Damian about it. He was also the one that laid little Thomas in his brother’s arms, and therefor was the cause of the “full body lockdown” Damian was going through.

Slowly, Damian turned his head towards Tim (he couldn't move too fast, because there was a risk he'd drop the baby !) and said through gritted teeth :

"Yes I do. If I don't, I might drop him !"

The word “drop” was resonating in Damian’s head, and it was the only thing he could think about.

Drop. Drop. Drop drop drop drop.

It was starting to lose it’s meaning, and only the fact that it would be terrible if he “dropped” something stayed in the boy’s head.

But then the baby moved, and Damian looked down instinctively.

His eyes fell upon his new little brother’s face and...He felt his heart drop.

What was this feeling ? Why, all of a sudden, did he feel overwhelmed and full of...something ? An emotion he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

It kinda made him want to cry.

His eyes glued to the little body in his arms, trying to understand this intense surge of emotions, he finally raised his head after a few seconds and said, a hint of disbelief in his voice :

“I’m-I’m a big brother.”

And boom. There it was.

Up until now, you had managed to keep your cool, looking at your sons and daughter holding Thomas in turn, and beaming at him happily.

But here, that bewildered look on Damian’s face, and that smile he probably didn’t even notice he had on, was a little too much for your heart.

Damian was the one you were most worried about, when it came to meet baby Thomas. You weren’t sure how he’d react.

All along your pregnancy he was doing fine, and seemed excited about the prospect to have a new brother. But at times, when nobody was looking at him, you noticed the worried look in his eyes, and it frustrated you to no end to not be able to know for sure what your son was thinking.

You’ve always been good at deciphering the Waynes’ emotions, sometimes even better than them themselves. But in that case...You couldn’t quite put your finger on what kind of worries were assaulting your boy.

Was he afraid you’d love his little brother more ? Or that he wouldn’t be the “baby” anymore ? Maybe afraid not to be a good enough role model ? Or to simply to not find a way to bond with him ?

So many questions, and no answers.

Maybe it was a mix of all of that. But you just couldn’t decide. And it was an immense source of stress for you.

But here, right now, as you witnessed Damian smiling widely and whispering “Im a big brother”, your own worries suddenly vanished.

You turned to your husband who was right next to you, and put your head against his chest, muffling a "awwwww" sound that you feared might put Damian on the defensive. Instinctively, Bruce wrapped his arms around you (this called for some “I know, I know they’re cute” support).

God forbid anyone would catch your little buddy being so sweet. Haha. He hated when you called him that.

Sweet.

But he truly was ? He just didn't know it yet.

You were sure no one ever told him he was "sweet".

But he had all this little attentions for you, his father or siblings.

He might think of it as nothing, but you all noticed. You noticed all the drawings he’d left in strategic points for all of you. Or how meticulous he was in preparing pop corn or hot chocolate for movie nights. Little things, that when added, became grand.

You noticed everything. All of you.

Most importantly, you noticed the big changes in him.

Damian was 12 now.

He came into your life two years ago and, after quite a while of him refusing this little family his father made for himself, and making life difficult for everyone…He came around. He understood.

And you never blamed him for being difficult at first, on the contrary. You were the most understanding of them all, scolding your kids or Bruce himself, when they were too unforgiving or frustrated too fast !

It was a team work, to make Damian feel like he was finally home.

Feel like he was amongst his family.

Like Dick, Jason, Tim and Cass were his siblings, and although you weren’t his biological mother, you saw him as your own son too.

It was a learning experience for everyone.

Bruce did a great job at being patient, and teaching him about his own values and such. Forgiving him when he took the wrong decision, all the while still being strict. It was a balance of understanding, softness, forgiveness, and yet still putting important boundaries. Damian never really experienced any of this...

Your kids had some practice at being older brothers, and only Tim needed an acclimating moments...But he was a fast learner. After the first initial bad meeting, they became close. Although of course, they still bickered from times to times. After all, they were little/big brothers. Everything couldn’t always be perfect. Life wasn’t like that.

As you looked at Damian and Thomas, you wondered...Would Damian, just like his siblings, find his own way to become a big brother ? How would he proceed ? He had, after all, a lot of role model for this. But would he decide to take the same approach ?

The future was more unknown than ever, but as you looked at your family surrounding you, and this new beaming little life that entered yours, you had quite the high hopes.

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

"July 15th 20?? (I’m not putting an exact year cause ya know, it wouldn’t stay accurate). Thomas : three days old.

I am starting this logbook to understand. I got the idea from Grayson, whom I think got the idea from mom ? I always see him write in that journal of his. I think when he was younger, after he lost his parents and just started to live with father and mom, she suggested to him to write his feelings down. And so he started journaling. He has a bunch of filled notebooks in his room. I saw them a few times, but I never looked. Mom says it’s his thoughts, I would never intrude (okay maybe I “intruded” once. Or twice.).

That’s not the point of this anyway. According to both him and mom, writing down their feelings help a lot. So I asked Grayson if he could give me a blank notebooks, since he always has some in advance. He gave me a stupid bright pink one that sparkles and light up in the dark...But oh whatever, at least like that, nobody will know it’s mine, and will open it.

Now, what is the point of this exactly. Laying it out is suppose to help so, here goes nothing : in this logbook, I am planing to “write down my feelings” so I can understand. I’ve never felt that way before. Love is very new to me, people actually caring about me is very new, having a sort of freedom is new, being happy is new. I’ve come a long way in two years, and I still find it difficult to put words on all the things I feel. Hence, this book.

More precisely though, I will record in this “logbook” (not to confuse with a journal or something), my journey as a new big brother. I think it will help me, to write things down. The idea doesn’t sound as stupid as when I first heard it two years ago. On the contrary, I already feel like my brain is getting more organized about my feelings, just by writing this down. Like now, I understand that what I felt as I held Thomas for the first time was love. And a need to protect him. But it was so instant, as soon as I truly saw him, that it made me wonder...Why ? And How ? Is this what it is to be a big brother ? A sudden instinct coming out of nowhere ?

I will implement my studies of becoming the best big brother (notes for self : competition = hard, have to work very hard), and understanding what it actually means to be one, as it’s a first for me.

My life now is full of “firsts”. But in this logbook, I will mostly talk about being a big brother to Thomas, because that’s the newest and most intriguing thing yet. After two years, I think I know what love is, and what it isn’t. It isn’t praising me for being the best, but encouraging me to always do my best. It isn’t training me and being proud of me when I’m perfect, but accepting my flaws unconditionally. Yes. I think I got love down. It’s in little gestures, like when father goes to the other side of town to get my favorite take away. It is in small (and sometimes big) affectionate things like calling me pet names, ruffling my hair, or making sure I am alright. Love englobes a lot of things (my feelings for Thomas being in it). It took me a while to understand it, and I think if I had a logbook to write my findings down, it would’ve been easier.

So here I am. Starting a new journey of discovery. But with the knowledge I already have. How my brothers and sister are with me. How my parents are with me. How my friends, are with me. What love truly is. I’m not starting this new canvas blank, but with already a large array of color. What I need now, is to make this painting my own.

*There is here a drawing of himself standing at the front of a large pirate boat, ready to start this “new journey of discovery”, with the annotation “I think Grayson would enjoy this analogy of being captain of my own boat, as in of my own destiny. He always enjoyed pirates”*

A plan : 1. Get books on babies. 2. Hanging out with Thomas. 3. Observing how the others are interacting with him. 4. There is no 4 yet. But there will be as I come along, I suppose.”

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

It all happened so fast.

Bruce and the kids were about to go on patrol, when you started to scream at him that it was time. In a panic, you rushed to the hospital, leaving behind your children who anxiously waited for some news.

Hours went by, and no news were given.

Everyone slowly started to freak out, but Damian was the one who was touched the most.

When Jason dared to tell him : “Hey buddy, no news mean good news, right ?” in an attempt to comfort him, Damian went on a rant about how this expression was idiotic and made no sense.

No news meant a lot of things ! Like, maybe their father RECKLESS driving got them into an accident, or maybe there was complications with the babies, or they ran in any kind of troubles that prevented them to give news !

No news meant “no news” ! And was in no way, in Damian’s eyes, a positive thing !

It’s as Damian was going on and on about what could’ve gone wrong that could explain the lack of news, and starting to freak everyone out, that the phone finally rang.

“Ah, see ? No news did mean good news.”

Jason said ruffling his little brother’s hair. Although his apparent confidence was only a facade, because Damian’s list of “what could’ve gone wrong” really got to him too (he’d never admit it but Jason was quite the worry wart).

But everything was fine now. He could joke, and tease his brother again. Because...

It was official, there was a new member in the family.

Thomas Clark Wayne was born, on a sunny July day.

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

Damian didn’t know how to feel. Or rather, didn’t know what he felt.

He knew that day was going to happen, he saw his mother’s belly grow. He touched it, and couldn’t help but share his parents happiness...but it all seemed so surreal at the time ?

Like the baby would come in a very long time ?

He wasn’t an idiot. Plus, he was already 12 now. He most definitely knew where babies came from (ew) and how they came to life (double ew).

But even with this knowledge, he just hadn’t been able to visualize having a baby brother ?

So when he found himself in the hospital corridors, following after his older siblings, running a little to keep up with their hurried pace, he wasn’t really sure what to feel.

What would he find in that room ?

Probably his mom and father, smiling at him, and holding a baby in their arms...

It was weird. Because Damian had always been the “baby” of the family. Was this spot now his brother’s ? How did that make him feel ? What was his place now, then ?

He didn’t know. He didn’t know !

Did he still have a place ? How was he suppose to know what it was ?

So many thoughts were rushing through his head, he didn’t have time to process any of them that they already were in the room.

The first thing Damian saw wasn’t the newborn, as his brothers gathered quickly around his mom and father while he stayed a bit behind with Cass (who rolled her eyes a lot, whispering : “boys” every two seconds).

No. The first thing Damian saw was his father. His smiling father.

Given the looks his older brothers gave in his direction, Damian gathered that Thomas was in their fathers’ arms. And Bruce was smiling so widely.

It was pretty rare, to see him smile. It only happened when he was with his family. You made him smile a lot, even more so when you both thought nobody was looking at you.

Damian thought that it was the first time he saw this specific smile of his father.

Thomas’ existence had created a new awe induced smile...

Bruce was looking down at his tiny son in his arms, and was just smiling widely and...sort of like a child ?

Like even when he smiled to his wife, or to his kids. Those actual genuine smile he gave them, not the fake "Brucie Wayne" persona ones. They were always very him ? They always had his past in it. When he smiled at them, they could see they meant a lot, because he was able to smile even through all his pain. And they were the one that brought his happiness forth.

Bruce’s smiles to his family were grateful, full of pure joy, and recognition. With a hint of sadness, however. Of traumas he could never forget.

But here, as he held Thomas, it was like he forgot everything, and was carefree for the first time since he was eight.

Of course, it only appeared like that to Damian because he wasn’t quite sure yet about how he should feel. Happy, or jealous ? He never noticed the many times his father gave him that exact pure child like happiness and awe too.

Bruce wasn’t always the best at showing his feelings, a lot of time, he would smile softly, full of love, in the way he was right now, only when he was sure no one was looking.

He most definitely smiled that way to all his children, they just never had the chance to witness it due to Bruce’s own self-consciousness, and not being sure how to handle his own feelings at times.

In that way, Damian and his father were very much alike. You often said so. They sometimes had great trouble expressing themselves.

Which could cause great misunderstanding, like right now.

As Damian witnessed his father smile this way for the first time ever, and wondered...

Wondered if..If Talia gave him to Bruce as a baby, would he have smiled the same way ?

…Probably not.

It made Damian feel all sort of things, to realize that.

Strangely, the emotions he felt weren’t negative. On the contrary, he was glad that his little brother was lucky enough to be born into this family he thought amazing, and would grow up immediately loved and never alone.

Sure, Damian wished it would’ve been the case for him too. But you told him once that the past was the past, and it did no good to dwell on it (he was pretty sure you misquoted Dumbledore from Harry Potter but never said anything), and it really stuck with him.

He would never be a baby anymore, hurting himself and his feelings thinking about what could’ve been was useless. It would only bring him misery. While thinking...Thinking about his new brother having this chance...Well, it made him very happy.

He was glad, times were changing.

“Do you want to hold him ?”

You asked him, taking him out of his reveries about how he realized he only had positive feelings about this new life coming into his.

Good feelings yet, but not enough to dare hold him. Panicked, he took a few steps back and said :

“No ! No no, I’m good !”

You tried to hide your disappointment, and instead gave the boy to your oldest son, Dick. You kinda wished Damian would’ve accepted to take Thomas into his arms. After all, his reaction was the one that worried you the most...

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

It’s only as he witnessed all his sibling holding their new brother, and beaming brightly at him, that he felt like he wanted to do that too.

He felt like he was missing out, because they all seemed to thoroughly enjoy holding Thomas ! And he felt like he was building unnecessary boundaries between him and his new baby brother.

What if Thomas thought he didn’t want to be his brother ?

Of course, right now, being only a few hours old, Thomas couldn’t think about that yet. But Damian read somewhere that infants could feel this sort of things. And so he turned to Tim, who was the one holding the baby boy at the moment, and said :

“Can I-...Can I ?”

Of course, Tim understood, and did not hesitate to put his little brother in his other little brother’s arms. He explained quickly to Damian how to hold him, making sure Thomas’ head was all good, and let go (later, he’d admit that he watched YouTube video to know the proper way to hold a baby).

And the rest was history.

“I’m-I’m a big brother.”

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

“Friday, October 16th 20??, Thomas : 4 months old.

I found books about babies. Many of them. 36 to be exact. They were in the library, I suspect father bought them to read up on how to take care of a baby. After all, he never had one, since we all arrived around 8/10.

I put in practice what I got from them, and was very successful doing so. Thanks to them, I was able to refine my studies on what it truly means to be a big brother.

(...)”

“Damian ?”

Bruce was looking for you, and guessed you were in your office, which, just like the bedroom you shared with him, was right next to the nursery. Of course.

He knew you must’ve been there at this time of the day because it was your “writing time”, but also Thomas’ “nap time”. In your office, you could make sure to be there for him quickly.

Bruce had just come home and as usual, looked for you immediately. He had a tough day at Wayne Enterprise, and you always were his respite.

But as he walked in front of Thomas’ room (where he was planning on going after seeing you), he was stopped in his track by the door being open, and quite an odd vision.

Damian was standing next to his brother’s crib, an arm reaching out in it. As Bruce, intrigued, approached them, he noticed that one of Thomas’ tiny hand was wrapped around one of Damian’s finger.

Before he could ask what was happening, his boy whispered, as to not wake his little brother up :

“I read somewhere that babies need physical contact so their brain can develop well. A baby that nobody ever touches just doesn’t speak much, and isn’t as advanced as one who received affection. So I’m holding his hand.”

Bruce’s brain went blank, as he looked at the extremely cute scene of his youngest son sleeping peacefully, holding his older brother’s hand. It was too much for his heart, trying to not sound choked up, he asked :

“How long have you been here ?”

Damian looked up, thinking, before he answered :

“A couple of hours ?”

“A couple of-That long ?!”

“Ssssshhh. Father !”

Damian whispered scolding his dad for his loudness. He gave a worried look to Thomas, afraid he woke up, and then turned to his father again saying :

“I heard him cry, and recognized it as being his lonely cry. So I came. Mother fell asleep on her desk, I think she was just too tired to even realize he was crying. I know neither of you have been sleeping very well lately, so no one can blame her. You two work tough jobs, then do the vigilante thing, and have to take care of a baby who doesn’t sleep through the night yet. It’s understandable, to feel very sleepy. So I came.”

Bruce felt it through his entire body. This warm, fuzzy feeling. The same one that he forgot for so many years, until you and Dick came into his life.

“How did you hear him ?”

“I rigged his baby phone to my phone, so it would give me alerts if he cries. Tim helped me develop a sort of app for that.”

This specific feeling he only felt when looking at you or his children. A sort of serenity filling his entire body. Peace.

“I rocked him a little bit. He smiled at me a lot, and cooed too. And then he felt back asleep, but as soon as I put him in the crib he cried again. I figured he didn’t wanna be alone, so I stayed and held his hand, and he eventually fell back asleep. Now I’m too afraid to wake him up if I leave, so I’m here.”

“So you’re here...”

Pride was in Bruce’s heart now. A beaming, strong, huge pride. Pride of having such a sweet little boy. Ah. Who would’ve thought, over two years ago, that Damian Wayne would stay two hours near a baby in fear that if he left, he would wake him up ?

Feeling inspired, Bruce bend down and kissed Damian’s forehead affectionately. This took the boy by surprised, and he literally gasped !

It made Bruce feel a little guilty. His sometimes odd way of loving made it so that he reserved those forehead kisses only when his kids felt bad, or when he through they were asleep (though they never were). Moments of distress; or moment he was sure they wouldn’t notice.

Sometimes, Bruce just wasn’t too sure how to react with his children. Except on definite moments, like them needing him, or them being too cute for him to resist a forehead kiss (they were always adorable, sleeping).

Or, in this instance, his boy doing something so sweet he felt the urge to kiss him with all the love and affection he had.

Now though, a little embarrassed, he took a step back, and ruffled his son’s hair again, saying :

“You’re a good brother.”

And then he left awkwardly, going to your office so he could pick you up and go take a nap with you in your room. Yes. This surge of emotion he felt, as he saw his two youngest children together, definitely called for a nap in your arms. You always had a knack, to calm him, even unconsciously...

Damian stayed in Thomas’ room, a huge smile plastered on his face.

His father just said he was a good brother !

“(...) Continuation of the previous entry (October 16th). I put in practice what I got from them, and was very successful doing so. Thanks to them, I was able to refine my studies on what it truly means to be a big brother.

Now, after four months of studying Thomas’ behavior and such, I came to realize that he has different kind of cry. They are as proceeded : 1. High pitch continuous noise = he’s hungry. 2. When he makes a series of loud “heh” = he’s too cold, or hot, or wet. It’s his sign to express a discomfort. Usually means dirty diaper, if no dirty diaper, means something else and then you have to look for what is bothering him. Example : Yesterday, the bird outside his window chirping was annoying him and keeping him from sleeping soundly. 3. Loud screams punctuated by pauses = He’s lonely. The pauses are him listening in to see if someone is coming to get him. 4. Almost silent cries, when it’s so loud it becomes quiet = he didn’t burp properly after eating and desperately need too. A few light tap on his back will make him feel better very quickly. 5. When he whimpers, it’s usually because he has gaz. Putting him a little straighter helps him...evacuate.

I put this directly in practice today, when I realized he was doing his “lonely cry”. I went to his rescue, and I didn’t mind staying hours with him even though he’s still a little baby and doesn’t do much. He smiled at me a lot, I think he recognized my voice. And my singing (note for self : make sure no one is around when such occurrence happen, almost got caught by father today). Then it felt like he didn’t want to let me go, so I stayed.

Is that what it is, to be a big brother ? Being needed ? If it is, it actually feels nice. It would certainly explain all the time Dick, Jason, Tim and Cass came to my own rescue. Wether help for my homework or to comfort me. But, I do that too, as a little brother ? I comforted them too many times. And I witnessed Jason, Tim or Cass comforting Dick and vice versa and in all ways. So, this means it’s a sibling thing, not quite a big brother thing. Need to keep studying to know what “big brother” is exactly.”

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

"Saturday, December 9th 20??. Thomas’ first Christmas/6 month old.

I started to build his gift. I think he will like it. I-”

“What are you doing, Damian ?”

You asked him, walking towards him as he busied himself at the gadget station in the Batcave. You saw him jump in the air slightly, and put away a bright pink notebook quickly.

And then he saw you had Thomas in your arms, and when Damian saw him, he hid whatever he was doing as fast as he could.

“Mom, you’re gonna spoil the surprise !! Get Thomas away !”

Surprised, and without thinking about it, you went to your husband who was typing away on the computer and put the baby in his arms.

Bruce was about to grumble that he was busy and brush the both of you away (he could be a jerk sometimes), but you didn’t gave him a chance, shoving your son in his arms. And when he looked, annoyed, at his baby and how the little one seemed the happiest of them all as he just recognized his father. Bruce’s mood lifted all of a sudden.

He smiled softly, realized he was being an asshole and was going to apologize to you but you were already gone back to Damian. Your husband and baby son exchanged a curious look, before Thomas got very interested in his father “Bat” logo and started to try to grab it, while Bruce smiled softly again and, holding his son in one arm, continued his work.

Balancing family and night activities had been hard for him to get and do, but he had it covered, nowadays. Well. Almost.

Meanwhile, you were back next to Damian, and with a sigh of relief, your son uncovered his project.

It did all kind of things to your heart...

“Damian, is that-”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, too touched. Your son, proudly, said :

“It’s a mobile to go above his bed ! I think he doesn’t like the one he currently has. So I’m making him one with things he’ll like ! See mom, that’s you. Do you recognize yourself ?”

Damian seemed worried about this, and you nodded. It definitely looked like you. So. Your son wasn’t just good at drawing, but also at sculpting...

“It’s for Christmas.”

He said, smile wide. And as you grabbed him and crushed him against your chest, he got a little confused...

"Saturday, December 25th 20??. Thomas’ first Christmas/6 month old.

*There’s here a drawing of Thomas beaming at his mobile above his bed that Damian build for him*

I knew my present would be Thomas’ favorite. After all, it represents everything he likes. I put everyone from our family (Father, mom, Alfred, Dick, Tim, Cass, Jason, and of course, me), and a few of his favorite animals (I used Ace and Titus for the dogs, Tommy is very fond of them). And it makes music, which he seems to enjoy a lot. Especially when our mom, dad or anyone from the family sings to him. I recorded all of them secretly when they sang to him, and made it so he just has to push a button on the side of his crib to turn the mobile on.

I wasn’t even worried that he wouldn’t understand how to make it work. He’s only six months old, but he’s already very smart and curious (I think the physical contact we all gave him is a lot to “blame” for). So when I put the mobile above his bed, and pushed the button to start the voice of our mother, he moved his little arms and legs excitedly and smiled at the mobile widely ! I only had to push the button a few times more, and for our father, Dick, and Jason’s voice to be on for him to notice the button, and to push it himself. Or rather, to kick it or throw himself on it as best he could. He is still not that coordinate when it comes to movements. But he’s smart. He understood that, to have the music, he had to push the button.

He didn’t pay attention to all his other gifts, but mine he loved. It’s because I made it with everything he likes. So of course, he loves it. Is that what it is, to be a big brother ? To know your little sibling and be the best at giving him a gift ? No. That doesn’t sound right. Tim, or Jason, already gave me absolutely useless terrible gift, and yet it still made me happy to receive them, and that they thought about me. Mmm. The researches are still on.”

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

“Thursday, March 7th 20??. Thomas : One year and a half.

Father and mom entrusted me with babysitting Thomas today, as everyone was busy. I was very happy to be trusted with such responsibilities. I thought it would be easy, at that age, they're easily manipulated. Well...I was wrong"

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

“NO NO NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOO.”

Thomas was screaming, while Damian was trying to be heard :

“Thomas, listen, you need to put your pants on or-”

“NOOOOO !! NO DAMDAM NOOOOO !!”

“No”, was one of the first word Thomas pronounced. Right after “mama” and “dada” (the jury was still out on which words he said first, and was source of endless bickering between you and your husband).

Then he started to try and pronounce his siblings’ name, although he wasn’t quite there yet. Damian being the youngest and still at home (Dick and Jason had their own apartment by now, and Cass and Tim were starting to be very busy with college), he was able to sort of say his name first.

“Damdam”. Close enough.

But right now, Damdam really wasn’t having a good time.

It started rather smoothly. Thomas was a pretty calm child, so Damian (wrongly) thought it would be all good all day.

Only, it was the first time he was taking care of his brothers for so long. A couple of hours there and there. He made sure to be with him at least once a day, for at least two hours. Most of the time, it was more.

They really started to be very close, sometimes, Thomas would choose Damian over you or Bruce...it vexed the both of you, but you had to put yourself in the shoes of your young son.

Damian only had the good times with him. Playtime, and bed time stories, and such. While you and Bruce had to be strict with him sometimes, and give him boundaries (like no jumping on his bed, or no pulling the dogs’ tails).

Bruce once mentioned that Thomas most certainly inherited your petty side, given the fact he always went to Damian when you scolded him. But when you smacked him on the head, vexed, he said he was joking (although we all know he wasn’t).

In any way, Damian, in that year and a half, only had the good times with his brother. And today, as he had to take care of him all day long, he realized that...it wasn’t always that easy.

Proof : the morning had gone well, but now, it was over, and it was time to put some close on. Problem : Thomas didn’t seem very keen on putting pants, today.

It started slowly, as if it was a game.

Thomas ran around the room, laughing, repeating : “no ‘an’ !” (which probably meant “no pants”). Up until Damian tried to take his father’s strict tone and said :

“Ok Thomas, enough now, you need to put your pants on.”

Well. That didn’t play well in Thomas’ book. Frowning, he said :

“No.”

“Yes, Tommy. It’s day time, you need to put pants on.”

“No.”

“Yes. Come on, I’ll help you.”

“NO !”

Thomas ran away from Damian’s grasp, and your son was so surprised that he wasn’t able to catch him right away. He caught up to him though as Thomas was climbing a couch, sure that he’d be out of reach at its top (probably not understanding that Damian wasn’t as small as him...).

Once on the top of it, he sad down and put his hands in front of his eyes, clearly thinking he was hidden, now.

“I can see you Thomas.”

“No.”

“Stop saying no, I can see you.”

“No.”

“Come on Thomas, I’m not playing anymore, I can see you, and you need to put some pants on.”

“Noooooooooooooooo.”

“Tho-”

“NooOOooOOoOOoOOoOoo noooooooo.”

“Thoma-”

“NoooOOoOOoo no no no no no no no !!!!”

Damian realized trying to talk it out wouldn’t work. His brother was probably too young to be reasoned with. Quickly,he scratched his head to find a solution.

Maybe making him laugh again ? Like Dick did with him at first.

It felt like such a long time ago, but there was a time when Damian was a really big brat. He still was, sometimes, he wasn’t perfect of course. But he improved a lot.

Regardless, one of the way Dick would make him stop being bratty, was making absolutely awful jokes and trying to make him laugh by doing stupid things. Ok. Here we go then :

“Hey hey Thomas look, look !”

“No no no no...No ?”

Ok. Good point. Thomas was now watching Damian doing backflips and running around. Beaming, the little boy smiled widely and clapped his hands.

YES ! Damian most definitely won. He stopped doing his acrobatics and turned to his little brother, saying :

“Ok, time for pants now.”

But Thomas frowned again, as if vexed he fell for the show, and gave Damian a definitive :

“No.”

Well. That was a fail. What did Jason do again, to stop one of Damian’s own tantrum ? Oh. Right. Um. That probably wouldn’t be a good method with such a young kid. Skipping that one.

Tim ? Tim would talk to him about his favorite things. Video games, or whatever. And blackmailing him a lot (as a good big brother). Damian wasn’t too into blackmailing, but he was kinda running out of ideas.

This was the first time Thomas was being difficult with him, it was too new, he needed more data to know exactly how to react !

So, blackmail it would be.

“If you put your pants on, we’ll watch your favorite movie !”

This seemed to peak Thomas’ interest. He looked at the Tv, then at his pants. Then at the TV again and...oh...Ooooh...Damn it ! Damian could see he almost got him. But it didn’t work, his brother shook his head “no” so strongly he almost fell of the couch.

Ok. What were the options left ? What did Cass do ? Mmm. She would hug him and tell him things would be alright. Which worked for him, given his past, but Thomas was a little over one and had a normal happy childhood so far !

They couldn’t relate to their past, like Cass and him did.

Ok. What would his mom do ? Well, with his mom, Damian had the intimate feeling that Thomas would’ve put on his pants without a word. He knew she wasn’t joking around. He’d never pull this sort of things with her.

He would though, pull that with his father. And what would Bruce do ? Either let it go, or, if he was in a bad mood, be very strict and force him to put his pants on. Nobody said his father was perfect...His mother, neither. She could be implacable in her way of educating her son.

Thomas was a calm boy, and was of course allowed to have tantrums. Their mother was mostly understanding. But if she was tired, she’d be less patient...It wasn’t always easy, raising kids. And the gods knew the Waynes had a LOT on their plates, at times.

MMm. Damian didn’t want to force him to do anything, or to lose his patience.

And then it hit him. The solution was right in front of his eyes. Of course. It was so simple !

"(...) Continuation of last entry (March 7th)

New observation after today’s babysitting : toddlers sometimes focus on one thing so much they don't know how to react, and therefor, explodes with feelings

I found that my siblings tricks to calm me down would not work on Thomas, because he isn’t me. We don’t have the same personality, or background. I never even noticed before, how Dick, for example, used different methods to comfort all of us. Adaptability is key. Like how father gives us all different trainings, according to our own needs. Little brothers are the same. When mad, they need to be calmed in different ways. Thomas is such a calm kid and has so few tantrum, I feel comfortable doing what I did.

Which brings me to my next point. Being an older brother sometimes mean being the bigger person. Giving up, and letting them do what they want. I never realized how many things Tim, Dick, Jason or Cass gave up for me. But it now becomes very apparent to me. They switched things around in their lives to be convenient for me. Like, Tim used to love playing video games on his own, yet he let me come and play with him even as he doesn’t like multiplayer modes. Jason is afraid of snakes yet took me to Gotham terrarium where there’s one of the largest concentration of snakes in the US when I asked him. Dick gave up on ever taking many hoodies I stole from him back. Etc etc.

Being a big brother means being the bigger person sometimes, and letting the small one have their ways. Dick, Jason, Cass and Tim did it all the time with me, and it’s my turn to do it with Thomas. Unlike our parents, I don’t need to be the “police officer” of the house. I can have only the good times, and when appropriate, just let go.

Today was the first tantrum I witnessed Thomas having, and I decided to let it go. After than, it went all smooth. And honestly, he’s just a bit over one. It’s ok, if he doesn’t wear pants...”

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

Their parents found them both asleep in front of Thomas’ favorite movie.

They were still both in their pyjamas.

“No pants” day became a thing, for the two brothers.

**********

“Wednesday, April 19th 20??. Thomas : 3 years old.

Today, I learned a new lesson. I kind of already knew it before, by observing Dick, Jason, Tim and Cass. But it only became obvious to me today : A big brother is here to help his little sibling walk his own path. And discover the world.”

Damian was looking at his baby brother toughtfully. Mmm. Seemed like the kid liked animals too. Maybe they could bond further over this ?

Your boy remembered that that's how his own siblings handled him. They found common ground on which they could understand each others.

With Dick, Damian learned how to perfect his flips and other acrobatics. They enjoyed the creativity and yet physical training of this “game”.

With Jason, he used to spew all his frustration at him, and Jason would nod and say things like : “that’s right little bird, you tell ‘em !” and just agree with him on everything, even when he was wrong. They could particularly agree on how sometimes, Bruce could be a jerk...And yet wouldn’t wish for any other father.

With Cass, they’d do artistic things. Drawing, or dancing. Sometimes sitting in silence for hours, back to back, while they painted. It was nice. Relaxing.

With Tim...Well, Tim was a big advocate of this definition of sibling, that he made up himself : “The only people who will pick on you for their own entertainment, and beat up anyone else who tries.” So they’d bicker a lot, but then if anyone else was trying to rile Damian up, Tim would appear out of nowhere to give them a piece of his mind.

Yes. Yes. As Damian was observing little Thomas hug and smile at his stuffed animals, and thought that this could be quite the approach.

After all, he really loved animals too.

"'Ook Damdam, ook ! SIMBA !"

Damian had become an expert in his brother's baby talk, and knew this meant : "Look Damian, Look ! A lion"

"No Thomas, not a Simba, a lion. Not all lions are called Simba, just like in the film."

Patience was key. Damian was pretty sure he already told Thomas that exact same thing a hundred time, but for some reasons, the boy stayed stuck on his Disney knowledge.

But today, something different happened. Things clicked in the boy’s head.

Thomas looked at his stuffed animal for a while, and then asked :

"…Nala ? Girl ?"

"…Wether it's a boy or a girl, their names aren't simba or nala, they're lions. And lionness. Simba and Nala are characters in a movie."

The boy looked at his brother, confused, then looked back at his plushy lion and asked, to make sure :

"…Not Simba ?"

"Lion."

"…'ion ?"

"Yes."

"That, not Nemo ?"

OH ! They were making progress ! So far, Thomas didn’t really listen to Damian when he tried to teach him animal names, and just gave them names of Disney characters !

Now, he was pointing at his stuffed clown fish, asking wether he was a “Nemo” or not ! PROGRESS !

Damian smiled internally. Thinking it was cute, you and Bruce never did much to correct your son, which Damian found frustrating. But here they were, him finally gaining grounds !

“Right, not Nemo. Clown fish.”

“On fish.”

“Clown. CL-OWN”.

“O-N.”

“K-K. LL. AON. Repeat after me Thomas, Clown.”

“...Cl...cl...clnown ?”

“Clown.”

“CLOWN !”

“YES !”

“CLOWN FISH !”

Thomas said proudly, showing his plushy. And Damian felt a rush of pride.Yes. That was it. Clown fish. He learned a new thing. And...And he probably wouldn’t have learned it yet if it wasn’t for him ?

Oh. So a big brother also kinda had the role of a teacher. Interesting.

And as Thomas ran to his father and screamed “CLOWN FISH” at him, Damian couldn’t help but being proud of him. Even though their father was clearly confused, as the little boy now was running to Alfred to show him he knew what a clown fish was, and didn't give further explanations to Bruce.

“Clown fish ?”

The big scary bat repeated, utterly confused. By a three years old. What was it again ? Best detective in the world ?

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

“GWAYSON !”

“No Thomas, no, I’m Dick, not Grayson !”

“...Dick ?”

“Yes ! Damian, stop teaching him that my name is Grayson ! Ugh. I swear, he hangs out wayyyyy too much with you. I need to spend more time here...”

Damian grinned slyly, and Dick rolled his eyes. Thomas was growing up fast, and it made sense that he sometimes seemed closer to Damian, whom he saw the most.

Dick and Jason had their own place, and both Cass and Tim were busy with college. Damian was still in high school, and a lot home.

Although they weren’t seeing each others as much as he wished, the youngest Wayne and the oldest one still were extremely close.

In fact, Thomas was very close to all his siblings. They almost were all like second (or third, or fourth) father, and mother. They were so much older than him, of course they’d have this sort of status at time.

Their parents would take a lot care of him, and he was also very much a “daddy’s and momma’s boy” (like all his siblings really, though they’d never admit it).

But Thomas did spend a lot of time with Damian, and wether it was on purpose or not, he took a lot after his mannerism and such...just like Damian used to copy his older sibling mannerism, and so on and so forth.

“Gwayson” though, he could avoid.

Dick rolled his eyes again, and smirked at Damian, before returning to play with Thomas.

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

“Thursday, July 23rd 20??, Thomas : 4 years old.

Today, father and mom told me I was to take a night off and not to go on patrol. And that was a very big inconvenience. I had things planned, to prove my valor. I was about to sneak out anyway when (...)”

Damian, his costume on, made sure his parents were busy before starting to come in action.

First, he had to wait for his father to go on patrol, and join his other siblings out. And for his mom to get in front of the Batcomputer to monitor everything.

Then, he had to wait for Alfred to put Thomas to bed, and to go himself sleep, the baby phone near him, just in case, even though Thomas was already 4 now and had full nights. The butler would never just leave him like that, even if his room wasn’t too far.

Finally, he'd just have to sneak out by...

“DAMDAM !”

Damian jumped in the air, surprised, and turned around.

His little brother was right there, in front of him, smiling widely.

“Thomas ? How did you get here ?”

“I jumped out of bed, and walked.”

Thomas said the most natural way ever, as if it was obvious how he got there, while it was almost 1 am and was supposed to be in bed.

“It’s way past your bed time buddy.”

“I can’t sleep. Mama and daddy awe not hewe. Cassie and Tim either. Alfwed is sleeping !”

“Well you should be sleeping too !”

“But I can’t ! I just told you !”

There was a short silence between the two, and...Oh. Oh he dared.

Thomas was giving his older brother his world famous “puppy eyes” (a method he directly stole from Damian, of course). And as usual, it worked.

Damian took his mask off, sighed and said :

“You want a bed time story ?”

“YES !”

And without invitation, the boy jumped on his brother’s bed, slipped under the covers, and waited patiently for Damian to go fetch the book they were currently reading.

“(...) Continuing last entry, (July 23rd)

And then Thomas fell asleep in my lap, and I realized something. I guess it was good, to have a night off. If I went out, I would’ve never made this important discovery : Tonight, I have learned that to be with the ones I love is enough. And that I do not need to chase after anything else to be happy.

It’s a discovery I thought I made long ago, but as I felt more big brother than ever after reading him a story, it truly hit me. Being me, and being with them...It’s enough. I don’t need to have more. And maybe, maybe being a big brother means to simply be there when you feel lonely ? Like Thomas, tonight, as our parents were away, and none of our other siblings were there. Like me too, when I had nightmares and went to hide in Cass, Dick, Jason, or Tim’s bed...whoever was available when mom and dad weren’t.

Mom and dad. They do their best. And their best makes them the best parents anyone could wish for. But they have a lot to do, wether in the day or at night. So sometimes, it comes to me. Or to my older siblings, to take care of each others. To take care of Thomas. We have to be there for each others, always. Being a big brother means taking the time to be there. Simple.”

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

“Look Damian, it’s a freakin’ elephant !!”

“Um, what did you say ?”

“It’s a freakin’ elephant !!”

Damian looked around at the disapproving looks he got, and couldn’t care less. Of course, he wasn’t particularly thrilled about his little brother using “freaking” but oh well. It was to be expected, when everyone around him used it (and in some cased *cough* Jason and you *cough* used even worst).

But as Damian came towards his little brother, he realized something. Something that made him burst out laughing.

Thomas was starting to read on his own now.

It was exciting, to witness Thomas’ progress as he slowly but surely learned how to read. And it felt so nice, to participate in said progress. To be there every steps of the way.

Damian shared the pride Thomas felt whenever he showed his parents how well he’d gotten at reading.

And it was so nice, to see his mom and dad congratulates both of them…Thom because he really started to read well, and Damian for helping him out.

Far were the frustrating days when Thomas was a stubborn toddler that refused to call animals by their “actual names”.

Damian spend many hours trying to explain to his younger brother that no, mice weren’t called “Mickey” and elephants “Dumbo” !

Nowadays, the little boy knew what the animals’ name actually were. Which didn’t mean no incident ever happened…Like today.

It was Thomas’ sixth birthday and he asked to go to the zoo (Damian definitely had an impact on that boy).

“Look Damdam, it’s a freakin’ elephant !!”

The boy said excitedly, pulling his brother’s sleeve and pointing at the elephant’s massive enclosure. Damian shook his head, slightly shocked.

Not because his brother just called him “Damdam” (it was the nickname Thomas gave him long ago, when he couldn’t pronounce things quite right, and it just stuck), but because Thomas’ words were very much unlike him.

Their parents were a bit further, being disgustingly cute together, holding hands and all, and trusting Damian to keep an eye on Thomas (they knew he’d never let that kid out of his sight, plus Damian was almost an adult, now, he was responsible…sometimes).

“What did you say, Thomas ?”

“It’s a freakin’ elephant !”

The boy seemed so proud of himself. Damian knew elephants were some of his brother’s favorite animal, but he just couldn’t get over the fact that his precious little brother just used the word “freaking”, even if it really wasn’t a bad one.

That’s when Damian noticed it. The plaque giving informations about which kind of elephant it was. …His laughter resonated in the entire zoo. Both you and Bruce went to see what happened, and were face by a son shaking with laughter, and another little one that seemed very confused. When you asked what happened, Damian barely manage to say, pointing at the enclosure next to you :

“It’s a freakin’ elephant !”

And there, there came the laughter.

Yes. Yes it was an “freakin’ elephant”…Or, for those who weren’t as new at reading as Thomas was, an “African elephant.

Damian later shared what just happened with his older siblings, and they in turn gave him many occurrences of him being naive or such sometimes.

Like that time Jason made him believe that the hays in fields covered with white plastics were marshmallows’ fields...But instead of being vexed, Damian laughed with them.

Because that was what being a little sibling meant. And being the older one meant to see the evolution the small one went through, witness it all, and help out. Be there.

Finally. Finally Damian felt like he truly understood, what it was to be a big brother ?

**********

“Saturday, July 12th 20??, Thomas : 6 years old.

It took me six years, but I think I know now. After countless study and experiment. After spending hours and hours with Thomas. I think I know what it means to be a big brother.

First I had to understand what being a sibling meant. And that was easy. I had good model. Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass. They’re the best older siblings you can wish for (after me, of course). They helped me understand so much...Thanks to them, I finally got what it was, to be a sibling. And here it is :

Being siblings means our bond is stronger than any outside force, and we always have someone to lean on. It means late night pillow talks, awkward phone conversations, and insane laughter. It means calling each others over for no reason other than to sit in silence or talk for hours about nothing. One minute I'll be talking to one of my brother about Harry Potter, and the next I'll be talking to my sister about the newest music we're listening to.

But being an older brother...Being an older brother goes beyond just that. When you’re the youngest, sure you’re there for them, and you help out. But most of the time, you’re the one being helped, and having the most support. While still having fun ?

Being an older brother, it's keeping that balance between letting out my inner child (which I didn’t even know I had for the longest time, and was let out thanks to my older siblings at first) but still looking out for my little brother.

Basically, it means having a free therapist and the greatest confidante you could ask for. I went to my older brothers and sister many times, in time of need. And Thomas comes to me often, too. When it’s things we can’t tell our parents, you know ?

Being an older brother means being there for your little one through thick and thin. There were many times I had to stand up for Thomas even when it was difficult, whether it was to our parents or someone else. And there were even more times when Dick, Jason, Tim or Cass stood up for me.

But it also means being a little strict at times. I came to realize that when Dick told me to do something, or Tim, or any of them...It came more from the fact they wanted me to not get into trouble than anything else, and that...That I realized with Thomas. Sometimes, you have to tell your little sibling what to do. But some other times, it’s totally ok to let go.

Being a big brother means loving and supporting your little sibling no matter who or what they choose to be or do. That’s what my brothers and sister showed me, and my parents too. And that’s what I discovered with my own little brother. So what if we didn’t have all the same interest ?

Being a big brother means celebrating individuality and being proud of the fact that your little brother/sister is a part of your family. I’m glad we’re all different, with my siblings. And I’ll never make Thomas feel bad for that. It’s good, that he’s the calmest out of all of us, and had a different kind of life.

Maybe being an older brother means that occasionally, I take advantage of the fact I can tell Thomas what to do (and how easily he listens to me), but...I am his biggest fan. If he falls, I will always pick him back up (right after finishing laughing, like Jason would say).

Yes. It took me six years, but I think I finally know what being a big brother means. I’m glad, because this is the last page of this logbook.

One day, I think I’ll give it to you, Thomas. Just in case. If you’re going through a tough time, or you’re not sure of who you really are. To remind yourself I went through the same thing.

To remind yourself I had to write, for six years, certain important interactions I had with you so I would understand a simple concept such as “being a big brother”.

And that Dick did too. It wasn’t easy for him to go from a circus life with his parents to Wayne Manor with mom and dad, who were both rather young at the time, and inexperienced.

Jason came from the street, rejected by everyone. Do you think it was easy for him to acclimate to a life where he could finally be at peace ? Nope. And then, when he died and came back ? Ask him, and you’ll know.

Cass came a long way. Now, she speaks a lot, especially to you. But she used to be “mute”. And had a hard life. You should ask her, sometimes.

Tim struggled with being ignored all his life, and then he came in and suddenly had siblings, and “real” parents. Then I came along and fucked things up a bit (don’t swear)...but he came through, understanding what a big brother was supposed to be.

We all came through. Mainly because we had each others. So please Thomas, if you ever feel down, just come to me. Or to them. To us. We’re your older siblings, and that what it means.

I’m here for you. We’re here for you. Forever.”

The end

__________________________________________________

So, y’all know I was very nervous about posting this. I hope it wasn’t a total fail and you enjoyed reading it ? Thank you for reading, and as usual, if you liked it and all, comments and reblogs are always more than welcomed :). Here we go. See you next time with another story. Now, I’m going to go hide in a whole out of fear that you guys will hate this and how different it might be from other stories (as it’s mainly Damian/Thomas centric).

For those who do not know who Thomas is and are curious, here are the stories from my main Batmom timeline in which he appears : The Great Mall adventure, Master of Diaper, Shaky steps and bad teaching, Polichinelle, “Go away, you’re confusing my baby”, How do you make babies ?, Wild Child 2, “We want them back” and After Batmom’s death

CLICK HERE FOR ALTERNATE ENDING

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jess-the-vampire · 3 years

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Sky And The Forces Of The Multiverse, Chapter 46

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"There!"

Sunny wiped at her brow, happy with their final designs for their costumes, it had taken a lot of brainstorming and they weren't even close to being actually finished but they had made a lot of progress. Actually it was kinda nice to have both lexi and sunny here, they were both creative types like her and that made them perfect to bounce ideas off of when it came to stuff like this.

Sunny even helped her with adjustments for nora's hat.Sunny had made her own costumes back home, not that they were well made ones or anything, but she wasn't unfamiliar to the process even if it wasn't very good. Plus she liked sharing her own ideas, especially since she knew what she was going for, to be performers they needed an idea in mind and well...better sunny then anyone else, she liked to perform back home.

"Maybe this time you'll get to see me actually perform!", she said cheerfully.

"Yeah...can't wait to watch you run around with a mustache", sky joked, smirking, but she was a little bit serious after hearing how sunny's last performance went.

"Thank you!", she was all too cute, She was a light spot in a lot of this, always trying to make others feel good as best as she could. It didn't shock sky at all she and mason became friends, they had a lot in common. Though since their shared father was a demon with a fond love of soft small animals, sky had a feeling he was the main culprit for this similarity.

"So...how'd you get into acting and singing and whatever exactly?", sky cleaned up some of their mess as sunny hummed to herself, trying to clean sky's extremely messy room to the best of her ability, though with a little demon magic help on her side. "Oh? Well, When i was stuck in our castle all the time i was lacking in many things to do...so i wanted to find new ways to entertain my little brother...so...i started writing stories for him...then starting acting them out with puppets...then costumes...it just...sorta...became fun for me".

"Locked up like...how nora was?", she felt a bit of concern considering nora's situation beforehand.

"Well...not exactly...more freedom...but the only reason we stayed inside as often as we did is cause people tried to attack us all the time when we went out...so they felt it better we were protected a lot...not to say we never went out a bit regardless...but i have a bodyguard, trust me when i say it's weird walking around without a knight following me to protect me...i mean it's happening now but when i first arrived-", something about that seemed to surprised sky, maybe with how tough sunny was, but the mention of it all made sky remember something.

"So...the knife-?".

"Protection purposes...i learned self defense young".

"Huh".

Somehow that made sky even more terrified of sunny then before, but also safer as well, sunny seemed too innocent to be just as scary as she actually was but boy did it make you want to be on her good side all the more. Otherwise you might quickly meet a bad fate by underestimating her and her strength and power. Gee and all sky usually did was taze people and might occasionally get a blast at them if he wand was working properly that day.

A 14 year old prodigy with bodyguards, self defense skills, a knife, and who loves musicals and plays.

Behold princess Sunny, one strange young girl.

She still seemed a bit sheepish about the whole thing with her dagger, her shoulders tightning, "I never meant to hurt judas...it's just a part of my training, usually when a giant tentacle comes and grabs you like that you're not expecting it from a friend, I know he doesn't hold it against me but when you're so worried about being attacked that you end up hurting a friend, it does get to you...sometimes this stuff affects making friends...they think you're too scary".

"Eh...friends who hate you for that probably aren't worth being friends with anyway", sky simply grumbled, "We're all pretty bad socially...none of us had the best environments to grow up in and make friends in...i'm lucky just to have judas as my friend, otherwise i might've just been by myself for years without any friends...and...yeah, that'd be kinda depressing".

"A life without any friends is a sad life...", the small princess finished cleaning up, helping her sister Galexia get her drawings together. "We're only alive so long, better we enjoy that life as much as we can...when i get home i hope to make more friends then i ever could before...perform more, just get to enjoy myself a bit more instead of being stressed or scared".

"That...sounds nice".

"What about you sky?".

"Eh?".

She turned to face her directly.

"When we're back home and everything is back to normal...what will you do first?".

She blinked at her, waiting for an answer, but sky had to just respond with a shrug.

"Honestly? Not sure...i actually think i'll just...rest...i think there's no need to rush into anything and well...rest is something i need before i could do much of anything anyway.

Sometimes you gotta take the time to like...breathe right? Can't spend every moment busy or you might not like...get to enjoy everything, i might wanna slow down for a little after this...i think".

"Planning on getting some therapy?".

"Yeah, definitely.".

That got her to laugh, sharp teeth being exposed upon her laugh.

"Yeah...i think i might need rest when i get home too...", she seemed to be lost in thought, probably thinking about her family back home. It had honestly sounded overall like her parents were rather nice, maybe protective but overall rather great to be around. Maybe in truth the first thing sunny would do was hug them tightly and never let them go after this.

Sounded like something sunny would do.

"Thanks for being a big help sky, you're super talented! I'm really glad to have you as our kinda sorta leader...", Sky was being pessimistic but it was coming from sunny, so she probably most certainly meant it. And considering Sunny was considered such an important and brilliant person back home that probably meant a lot coming from her, even if sky didn't know the full weight of it.

"Y'know sunny?".

"Hmm?".

"Whether it's my fault you're here or not...i'm...happy you guys are here...i mean i'm not happy you're separated from your families and friends or anything of course, i just mean i'm happy i got to like...meet you all...even luna...it's just kinda been nice...having sisters. I've seen judas deal with his brothers for years and sometimes i wondered about if i had an older or younger sibling so...i guess this turned out to be a weird blessing for me...though i hate that it hurt you all".

"Well i never would've gotten to meet you and judas and angel, mason, landon...galexia...any of you without this happening either, it's going to make one heck of a play when i get back home i tell ya!", sky was just imagining sunny pretending to be all of them on a stage, acting out all the stuff they went through and found herself snorting with laughter.

Oh what a sight that would be.

She could just see sunny wearing fake spider legs for angel and stilts with a fake tentacle arm for jude.

"Wanna get some food...?", she perked up, her stomach growling and ready to head out for a break.

Sky was more then happy with that idea, maybe they could run into angel or nora on the way, though maybe they'd also run into Meteora if they weren't careful. Sky also wanted to check up on judas, after all he was getting his arm looked at more and sky wanted to hear what they found. Judas probably needed this check up, even if they didn't find anything.

Plus judas would probably like having company, even if sky and the others weren't there for very long.

Though they were being very closely watched on, reminding sky of the first time they had bodyguards, except this time they were so close sky could smell their breath. But this time, sky didn't mind them so much, in fact she liked having them there then she used to, it added just a bit more safety to their situation even if the guards probably wouldn't last long in a fight against Her.

The more meat shields the merrier at this point.

They hadn't even gotten far however when exactly what sky was worried about was standing nearby. Meteora writing something down in her little notebook, interviewing some other guards and knights in training that knew luna as well, she took her job pretty seriously it seemed. She was pretty good at getting people to talk, though it seemed the knights were MORE then eager to spill dirt on luna.

Geez, so much for nobility and loyalty.

Sunny was baffled at seeing her, and that's when sky remembered meteora knew sunny in her home, Sunny had been pretty open about that part. Sky wondered just how different the two meteora's were, guess if meteora was a spy for sunny she might've been able to figure that whole thing out way before though. Judging by her expression it seemed this meteora was quite a bit different.

If even in just appearance.

Though as much as sunny wanted to talk to her, she had to keep her mouth shut, she didn't want to draw attention to themselves and come off even more suspicious then they looked before. They were just going to have to walk past her and let her do whatever she was doing, sky taking the lead with the girls behind her, but even though sunny knew the drill.

Galexia clearly didn't.

She waved to meteora as they walked past, making sky and sunny both panic for a moment as meteroa glanced up and looked at them walking past her. She didn't react much however, though she did give lexi a smile and sunny a curious look before getting back to her interviewing. The girls heading past, trying to seem as normal as possible as they headed out of her sight.

"Meteora looks very pretty...", the demon noted, keeping her head forward to sky.

"Yeah...pretty...but also...intimidating...".

That's when sky thought of something, but the guards being there made it hard to really ask.

She waited till they headed to the kitchens, were the noises were as loud as ever to pull sunny aside, lexi looming over the freshly baked cupcakes. "Hey...question, meteora exists in your world so uh...why are you next in line for the throne? Why isn't she and eclipsa in charge?".

Sunny eyes for anyone who might be listening in and answered the curious girl, "Well, it wouldn't hurt to say but...she didn't like being in charge so she thought my parents outta do it instead since they were more interested...meteora and me just grew up kinda like sisters...it was something that just kinda worked out for everyone, plus eclipsa likes not having that pressure anymore.".

So it was almost like what eclipsa said happened in this universe, except with a lot more secrets and sadness attached that felt like it screwed some people in the process.

Gee if it weren't for the constantly being attacked and constantly put under pressure thing, sky would argue the world sunny comes from is next to perfect, having a happy family unit with no secrets between them. It really was no wonder sunny was the person she was, and it was no wonder sky had the problems she had. It was nearly like night and day, nearly.

She had a lot more in common with her siblings then she had actually thought, more then just being princesses and just sharing a single parent. No they had situations and issues that repeated between them, it was almost eerier in that regard, that sky ended up meeting girls who knew how she felt in several ways. She easily could've have gotten several sisters who were just...normal people.

Or killers.

If this wasn't somehow on purpose she had gotten seriously lucky with the girls who had shown up.

Hmm

Something about that got her thinking.

But she wasn't able to ponder on that too much longer as sunny helped lexi pick out some snacks for the three of them, grabbing something bonus for judas just in case he was hungry. The servants were staring at them as they grabbed stuff, to them these girls were just helping themselves to their treats without a care in the world, and the only reason they didn't tell them off was because sky was here.

Imagine living your life as a princess and then going into a world that just saw you as a peasant.

That had to be a weird shift.

Then again, not having that pressure must've been super relaxing for once. Sunny could honestly just chill if she wanted to, though if sky asked it was clear sunny would rather be with her family again and take the pressure then be away without it. If Sky had been transported to one of their dimensions without judas she knew she'd have a straight up heart attack.

She'd rather be queen with him around then not be queen without, that was for sure.

And that led her to pick out a treat for him as well, something she knew he liked the best.

Thanking the servers and staff before leading the girls out, munching on some fresh cookies and laughing together, she liked the vibes these two had, hey were just so...positive. They were the opposite of luna and celeste, positive, friendly, and easy to talk to and hang out with.

Hanging out with them as so nice, sky felt bad she had never really done it much before. She had been so stressed hanging out with her sisters felt like it would just waste time, but she really liked spending time with them, she didn't have that many friends who were female when she thought about it, nora not even counting much because they had only truly become friends recently.

Even though they were being followed by guards and barely allowed to properly talk it still invoked a nice feeling. Sunny and Galexia had clicked since day one and barely left the other's side since, hanging out more with each other then anyone else. Even now they were laughing among themselves, having a good ole time, and before sky could feel left out sunny was inviting her in to talk.

it was a nice break from the stress.

Judas was being checked up in the butterfly kingdom hospital wing, though thankfully in a room away from where they usually seemed to go when stuff happened, clearly his parents wanted to give him some more privacy and sky and judas both couldn't protest against that.

Last thing they needed was the press to get out about jude's arm acting funny when they already spread lies about his arm for years.

He was waiting on the bed when they were allowed in, his face lighting up at the guests coming to see him. He looked tired, but a long few hours of checkups will do that to ya, so much so he seemed happy when sky sheepishly handed him a snack. "You got me peanut butter chocolate chip cookies? Thanks so much sky! I've been hungry waiting in here", he beamed as he took a bite from her tray.

"They haven't brought you any snacks in here?", that sounded out of characters for either of his parents though judas finished swallowing as he made things a bit more clear. "No, i had a bit to eat, but i couldn't have much, they were worried it'd affect the tests...but thankfully i'm about finished so i can finally eat properly, i'm super happy you guys got me some stuff besides water and stale crackers...".

He was quick to chow down, taking some of the treats sunny got him as well with a pat to her head.

"So...what exactly did they do to you?".

She was making it sound like they experimented on judas like mad scientists or something but but clearly that wouldn't happen on the Lucitor's watch. Judas laughing and feeling his arm, "They uh well...may if gave me a few shots...and uh...my arm may of reacted a little...swatting at the needles and uh...everyone in the room for a bit". That's when sky noticed the floor looked like it had just been cleaned and the counters nearby weren't as neat as they usually were.

"Oh, ouch, i'm really sorry to hear...".

"No sky, it's ok, they eventually got it to hold still enough and turns out...it actually did seem to put it to sleep...though i'm kinda drowsy...but at least they were finally able to get more dna on it...i mean none of this is new to me, they did stuff like this since i was made but...maybe this time we can get somewhere with it since things have changed since then...".

"Don't you wanna control it rather then cure it? Like how are the these tests supposed to help with that?".

"Well, yeah, i've been considering that maybe the best thing i can do is stop trying to remove something i can't and learn to take it over but well...knowing more about how it works is not a bad thing...might be able to really help me deal with it and everything...though i have to admit...it does scare me a little, it's years of trauma I'm attempting to battle. The tests are just here to well...discover new things about my body, might help me with future choices i make...whether i cure it or not".

"Well, it's noble you even want to do it...no one would blame you for just wanting it gone, but i think it's cool that you wanna like...conquer it of all things".

"I guess to some extent it feels like i'm trying to fix something i can't really fix...if i can't remove it...the next best thing i can do...is not let it take me over...if that's really what's going on...sky i just don't want to keep being afraid of myself anymore...even if you trust me not everyone does and i don't want to be scared of myself...or...have you be scared of me...so...maybe...maybe this can work".

"You really think it's possible?"

"It's worth a shot...i've never really tried before...i mean maybe a little when i desperately tried to will it away as a child but i was too scared at the time...so i'm not sure what'll happen this time...it could work really well or really fail and i wouldn't be surprised either way...i just...it's something i've been thinking about, so..." he rubbed at his arm, sighing.

"Judas...you shouldn't pressure yourself into-".

"I'm not...sky i just...i'm going to be king and...i don't want to be king...with this lingering over me...", he nearly almost cried but pulled himself together last minute, "I'm running out of time before i'm coronated...the sooner i do this the better...i can't wait for a cure...i know nora did what she could...and she can still help...but i have to try something else right now".

"Then maybe you shouldn't be king...".

The two turned to see Sunny, who had been patiently watching and listening to the conversation, her words making judas pause. Sunny must've realized she came off a little harsh when she said it, quick to explain herself before judas and sky said anything else. "I don't mean it in that way judas, i promise...sorry if that came out the wrong way or anything-".

"I can't not be king sunny", he mumbled.

"I don't mean never or anything, i just mean...maybe your parents should push back your date to be king...until you're ready and aren't having all these breakdowns and everything...sometimes you just have to admit you're not ready and have to wait until you are...and if you're so worried...i...i just think your health should come first...before being the next king of the underworld...it's enough pressure without issues...".

Judas seemed to be actually considering what she said, though he shook his head, "This coronation plan has already been set up, i'm not backing out on it if it can really finish all of this...I care more about solving this right now...saving the kingdom, ". Though sunny and sky seemed to both share a concerned look, maybe sunny had a point, though sky rarely heard of many royals who didn't take the crown at least at 18.

Though granted, some had taken it younger, so maybe allowing for some to take it older wasn't a bad idea. Judas could have some time for himself to sort out his problems and come into the position more prepared, he had barely even gotten to focus on the responsibilities of being king, the situation had taken up all his attention, did he really want to put someone like him on the throne like this?

But that didn't only depend on judas, but also his parents, their family, and most of the other kingdoms who had been ready to adjust to his rule. It was no simple task and they needed more time to really work it out, but now that sunny said it and brought it out there, sky couldn't help but put it in the back of her mind for later. Judas was her best friend, and if she needed to, she'd help anyway she could.

She didn't like seeing her best friend dealing with so much pain throughout all of this, she just needed to be there for him.

But for now, her presence seemed to be just enough, judas looking delighted again, even if he was going through a lot in his own mind. Galexia already back to drawing before handing judas one of her drawings, which caught him off guard. He was scared at first knowing what he knew about lexi and her seemingly strange abilities, but he was quickly soothed seeing a drawing him himself.

Happy.

His brothers and parents at his side, with his grandparents as well.

He didn't even know for sure if this were a normal drawing or a premonition , but it was still something rather nice of lexi to give him. She might not have been his sister, but she was a welcoming presence here all things considered. He sent her a soft smile and nodded, "Thanks lexi, this is very sweet of you...you really know how to draw...that's for sure".

He folded the drawing up and put it in his pocket, "I'll hang it in my room...when the castle is finally back together".

"It's nearly done?".

"Yeah i think so...it wasn't nearly as bad as what your castle has been through after all, just a lot of damaged rooms and hallways...but i think we're nearly back and ready...with uh...a few changed just in case that happens again". He didn't seem so sure about the ideas they had in mind, but if it prevented THAT from happening again, it was better then nothing.

"Well maybe it'll be way better then our system...".

"I mean, i'm not too confident...at this point i just assume nothing works on her, she's just too smart for us...well...maybe they are...luna thinks otherwise and i guess it's a real thing to consider", sunny blinking at them both curiously, and sky remembered she never updated sunny on what they spoke about with luna yet, having been distracted with their work.

"Luna thinks what?".

"Ehhh...long story...but she had a few theories that maybe we're being bamboozled by someone whose making things up as they go along? Not that we're sure or anything like that it's only a theory...but we did have her say that to us when we were there, we're honestly on the fence mostly about the whole idea but she just wonders if maybe we think this person is smarter then they are".

The demon girl responding with a bite to her lip and a tap on her chin, clearly thinking more about this idea herself.

"Anways...we're close to getting everything fixed...of course not that i'm sure how much we'll be staying there...but at the very least we'll have a castle that doesn't have holes in it anymore...which is better then before. It's in part thanks to your moms and my grandmother, having a larger demon help with construction makes the progress go a lot faster then it would without".

"You helped too", she pointed out.

"Eh...not as much...", he looked off to the side, though sky clearly was telling him with her eyes not to ignore his own efforts he put into all of this. He smiled but went back to his point,

"But i guess we'll be bunking for a good while before i'm allowed to sleep alone again, so i guess we have a lot of sleepovers ahead of us, whether we like it or not".

"Is it really a sleepover if your parents, my parents, other kingdoms, and even your grandparents are also staying in the same room? At that point it's not so much of a party and more like a one room hotel...", she could hear sunny giggling at that nearby as judas shrugged, "I mean, we got no choice, but your safe room is rather cozy...even if there isn't as much to do in there".

"Don't brag, not my fault my granny was so picky about things".

But she knew judas meant no real harm,if her moms had been given their way the room would probably have a large pool in there, but having a grandmother like queen moon meant dealing with a grandma who lectured everyone on proper queen ways and the best use of their resources and time. Naturally, games and toys aren't really as important and others things in a safe house, at least according to her.

Though sky would argue boredom and preventing it was a major need that of course needed fixing in a place like a safe room.

"Not your fault sky, at least we have each other in there, how's the plan coming along by the way?", he glanced to his half sister nearby and sunny looked like she had just been WAITING to go on about their ideas for this mission. Though they'd have to cut it short, hearing noises nearby, and for now they couldn't tell whether the person speaking was even friend or foe.

Then quickly enough, the voices dropped and judas's ears twitched.

"It might be my parents, they'd around talking with the specialist who checked me over", he listened out to see if they were coming in, but it seems they had merely passed by the room instead, allowing everyone to relax. "Alright i think we're ok, sorry, sometimes i get caught up talking i forget there's still a ton of people around, we should really talk more quietly just in case", his voice getting a bit softer in response.

"It's ok, we can talk later...i'm just happy to see you", and sky felt judas tug her into a hug, making sure not to hold her too tightly, sky snuggling into his chest as she wrapped her arms around her best friend. They had only been separated for a short time and she still felt overdue for a hug right now, even judas felt pretty happy to have a hug to ease some tension, kissing his friends forehead affectionately as they parted.

"I needed that".

"I could tell", she crossed her arms, smirking.

"I really just...appreciate your support sky, i might not say that enough, but i'm really glad to have you by my side...throughout all of my issues these last few months and everything, i know i might be acting a little crazy sometimes and changing my mind all the time and not keeping myself focused and being tired...and you get it, but you still stuck around with me through it...and it means a lot", the princess patting his shoulder playfully.

"Dude, look at what you put up with by being MY friend?! I nearly blasted my mom in the face and got send to frozen prison, seems like you can't catch a break by being my best friend, of course i'm sticking with you throughout all of this...we said we'd be best friends no matter what went down in the future, we're ride or die for each other...and that ain't ending for any reason".

"What about if i killed someone?".

"I'd probably help you hide a body to be honest...hey at least we'd end up in prison together", she stuck her tongue out at him and sunny giggled nearby.

"You guys are cute".

They both stuck their tongues out at her.

Sunny only stuck her tongue out back, "The sweetest best friends i've ever met, don't try to hide it". Sky just rolled her eyes, hearing jude's parents coming back down the hall, but this time it seemed they were actually heading into the room itself, the doorknob turning and everyone getting into position, he king and queen of the underworld heading in so fast they nearly didn't notice the other guests.

They did, however, notice the food right away.

"You know a doctor's room is really not a good place to be leaving crumbs everywhere...right?".

"Oh um...sorry mom", judas quickly covered his mouth and tried to clean up the mess around him as the girls moved the treats aside for later, tom and marco greeting the girls with a wave, "guess that explains the additional guards outside...though maybe you girls could've given us a bit more of a heads up, you could've walked in on important shots or something".

"Sorry about that!", sunny was quick to apologize, lighting up at seeing the adults. They were quick to forgive though, honestly if one of them had been in a similar position the other probably would've done something very close. Both parents walking over to their oldest child to give him news of the tests, judas shaking a little in his seat as if expecting to be told something horrible.

Though their faces were trying to be more reassuring.

It had been a long while since they had really tested it to the extent they were doing, so what may come of it could go in many directions, it had time to grow and change with jude's body, it could be so many things at this point that his parents weren't sure how to tell him. Judas's mind had been running through every possibility they could give him, even ones where nothing had changed.

Whatever it was, he needed to trust them on it and keep himself together, it couldn't get really any worse...hopefully.

His parents seemed to be reassuring each other with looks as they looked for the best words they could say to explain whatever it was they needed to say to their eldest son.

"Alright jude...so we knew going in there was no guarantee these tests would change much, we've done this kinda thing before to get more info on a cure and it never worked...but with your arm acting more funny then before we felt better taking you in to get it more looked at then doing nothing just to be safe...and we'll break the news...we still haven't found much about a cure...", marco was trying to be ggentle, as if expecting this news to hurt the teenager but judas didn't react much at all, it wasn't that shocking to him.

"But what's the catch?".

The adults looks to each other, a little surprised at jude's reaction.

"Well..um...the catch is...there might be an answer as to why your arm reacted how it did...to the magic flowing through it so much...". Tom eyeing his partner as marco put their hands together, "So you see...the monster arm spell...is kinda a dark magic spell...i got infected with it when star somehow thought it would fix my broken arm...and as tom has told you...the spell that still lingered in my dna latched on to you...though it did transform".

The demon nodded.

"Point being, you may of... whether intentional or not...purged the dark magic cells in your arm...from the curse...and that clearly really hurt your arm...burning your arm and purging out the dark cells...even if it did take a bit of time to fully do so...even now, it's apparently still doing it", judas rotated his arm, of course he couldn't see what was happening but he had felt it for sure.

"Guessing it didn't take it well?".

"It?".

"My arm was supposed to be alive...remember? Everyone thought it would take over my body and kill us all? With how it kept swelling up i guess it really didn't like being purged from dark magic how it was ", but his parents had more to say, marco especially, rubbing their neck nervously. "Judas...so...with this test...we uh...about the arm situation...".

"hmm what's going on here that you guys are acting so funny about?".

"What your mom wants to say is...if that your arm was never alive...really".

Judas's face twisted to confusion, as if not understanding what his parents just said at all, looking between the two of them with all three of his bright red eyes.

"What are you talking about?".

"It's just been you".

Judas still seemed utterly confused, searching his parent's faces for answers as they both attempted to try and explain. "Judas...what we're trying to tell you...is we always thought this curse...was exactly like your mom's...but after these tests we were told there's actually no trace of another lifeform outside of yourself...yeah it was filled with dark magic...but no other lifeform was in your arm".

"Judas...", marco started, "It appears...through the years of having your arm the arm never showed up upon it's own will...but more that perhaps you triggered it through emotional response...whether intentional or not." Though it didn't seem like judas was fully taking it all in, at the very least he wasn't having a strong negative reaction either to this news.

He seemed...unsure what to respond with, which was expected.

He spent 17 years with this idea his arm was a bloodthirsty killed out to destroy him and everyone around him, how was he really supposed to process this information and take it like normal? Was he even supposed to believe this anymore? This wasn't a thing the last time he got tested! How could he trust this kinda word, for all he knew his parents were lying to him to make him relax.

Everyone in the room seemed to notice judas was struggling in his mind a little, all rushing to help him.

But instead he stood up, "I need a minute".

And he didn't even wait for a response before leaving the room, everyone standing dead silent as he shut the door behind him.

Sky quickly turning to the Lucitors with mixed emotions, "Wait...is that true? Is his arm really-?".

The two nodded, "We were so anxious for years because we never fully understood much about what happened when the curse was transferred but...if there's really no trace of another living being inside of his arm, then that means judas can be the only culprit as to it moving how it did...and well...we still don't fully understand how it all works but...it seems like the most likely candidate is judas was somehow doing it".

"He once reached out to grab me with it".

They all glanced to sunny.

"I ran away, he tried to stop me and it turned into that thing to grab me, it obeyed him completely...reacted to how he was acting. I never questioned it really beforehand in the moment considering i kinda maybe reacted by stabbing judas...but um...i guess when you really think about it...that was kinda a little strange. It seemed in the moment judas had control over it".

"But shouldn't it happen more often then?", sky mumbled, "i mean, if it reacts to stress and stuff if should happen often enough for us to tell...right?".

"Maybe, we need a little more information on it...but what we do know is there isn't any monster hiding in his dna, that's the best thing we can tell you from this whole thing".

Sky turned to where judas left, "We should follow him, before he...gets hurt...". Not to say judas would do anything stupid but the way he had stomped out like that had sky very worried for him, this clearly had really gotten to him, it was one of those things that had flipped over his entire life that he had known up to this point. There must have been a lot of thoughts swarming in his mind, he couldn't catch a break.

"Wait...maybe we outta give him space", marco held out their hand, preventing sky from following the young demon, gazing off at the door themsleves with a sigh. "You care a lot about our son and it means a lot to us he has you for a great best friend...but this is his own fight, he might need some time to really think about it...if he needs to talk...we should be the ones to do it...as well...we're more responsible for it".

Sky couldn't argue with that logic, even if she wanted to.

"You know a lot about curses?", sunny asked suddenly, getting their attention quickly with her innocent voice. The adults sadly only replying with a shrug and nervous expression, "I mean outside of the arm...well of course there's the blood moon curse...but those two curses are very different from each other and we don't know much outside of that".

"What about the blood moon curse?".

The adults looked to each other and back to sunny before sky butted in, "Uh...sunny? I'm sorry but that's kinda off topic...why do you want to know about any of that? That whole thing is long gone in the past...". Sunny bit at her lips, her fangs pricking out as she thought about what she wanted to ask a bit more, "Nothing important...just um...i had questions about it and magic and stuff...

Tom leaned down and got onto her eye level, putting a hand on her shoulder in reassurance.

"We'll talk later if you want about that, in private...sound good? After we get out of the hospital wing?".

Sunny nodded, thankful, even if sky was left in curiosity.

"Let's get cleaned up, save these treats for judas...we can put them in the safe room for him later when he's hungry", marco quickly started grabbed snacks, encouraging help from lexi, who was collecting her doodles, "Boy...you really do draw a lot don't you?". Lexi didn't respond much outside of a thumbs up, grabbing a plate of snacks to head out on, everyone heading out.

"Hey...uh...Mr Lucitor?".

Tom turned around to sky, who was right behind him as the others went forward, stopping in his tracks.

"If judas has really been in control this entire time, we're not actually in danger from his arm...are we?".

He seemed to pause a moment, his eyes turning to the side, "Well...theoretically no, judas would never want to hurt any of us...but on the other hand that's not to say the arm couldn't hurt any of us if judas either didn't know what he was doing or his body was under someone else's control...it's still something we should be very wary about...but the nice thing we can say is the demon that once lived inside marco's arm is gone".

"Yeah i guess that's good...though yeah i know as much as anyone about being not in control of your magic and nearly hurting someone...and with everything jude is going through...i mean i trust him but at the same time...i'm just...worried", the king patted her head gently and moved her forward to follow the others. "Yeah, i understand...maybe just in case keep that zapper for his arm...better safe then sorry.".

"I'd hate to zap jude if he's just...himself though, it was easier to imagine he was under control and i was zapping something possessing him...but if it's just him...then i'm hurting him...", she felt the zapper and it's button inside her pocket, she always somehow seemed to remember it, at least as much as she could. But what originally felt like judas trusting her to save him now felt much more uncomfortable.

Even tom seemed to understand her concerns, truthfully not sure what the best advice he could give her would be. Most teenagers didn't usually have to go through a dilemma like this, then again most teenagers didn't have to go through any of the wild stuff that they were dealing with in the first place. The best he could do was try and comfort her, "Hey...my advice? If judas were to ever almost hurt you...i'd think he'd be ok with you protecting yourself and us...much rather that then him actually landing a tentacle on you".

"Even if i feel bad about it?".

"You gotta make hard choices to protect your friends, i know that feeling...but i trust you'll make the best choice if it ever comes to that, and i trust judas to try and avoid it ever coming to that if possible...and if we have to, we'll make sure to come in and help ourselves...we won't let anything bad happen to all of you...we'll figure out all of this...it's just as freaky to us as well", he ran his fingers through his pink hair, "To think after all that...the arm...was just judas...".

"Does...it make you feel better or worse considering-", she hated to ask, but she had to know.

"Well...i...i think it makes me feel a little better...though it is still my fault this happened at all...i just wish i'd known sooner to avoid the years of fear we had". though it wasn't just that, had they known sooner, maybe judas wouldn't be how he was these days. They could've saved him before he had to deal with years of trauma and fear, and tom didn't even need to say it for sky to know he was thinking about it.

"Hey uh...sunny brought this up earlier...but...maybe judas needs more time...before he should be on the throne", she hadn't planned to bring this up right away but with his father next to her, worried about his son it just sorta came out. The demon king glancing at her and not saying much in return, "I know it's tradition and everything but...she has a point, i don't wanna watch judas suffer on the throne with this either...".

"I'll talk about it with my parents and marco...thanks for the suggestion, i'll thank sunny later...", it still depended on if judas wanted it, but at least his parents could consider the idea of it. They headed on their way to catch up with the others before tom and sunny branched off to talk, leaving sky with marco and galexia, who ushered them to come with.

"We'll drop these snacks off and since you girls are here i want your help, the more hands the merrier, plus i prefer at least one of us keeps an eye on you as much as possible.".

"Wait...with what?".

"Angel's father is arriving tonight...with everything happening i could use the help to welcome him in and make him feel comfortable, star would've been in charge but she's dealing with her mom instead and janna sure isn't doing it, in fact i think she's currently dealing with fae actually...even though fae was returned to her family she kinda keeps coming in for further questions and help and well uh...janna and mason were the only ones brave enough to deal with her right now...janna seems to find the fact she seems cursed to be rather cool, because of course she does.".

"Wait...mason? What's that about? I though mason already interrogated her? I'm not sure how much he could get out of her at this point, it's not like she spent a whole lot of time with the person or anything... ".

"Well it's not exactly that, it's more...fae is going to be the one actually doing the asking...long story, it's janna suggested having her there might actually be helpful...she has knowledge on rumors spread by the kingdoms and well...actually it might just be because the other stable servants just wanted her to do a job away from them".

"Hold up a minute...fae is going to interrogate someone? She's like...i dunno...twelve or something?".

"We were against it for the same reason, but apparently jackie is going with them too so it made me and tom feel a little better about mason handling it, they're actually not doing a regular interrogation, this time they're trying something new...basically going through the evidence we found and having fae there because apparently they think just her presence might scare the guy into talking...".

Who? Like you obviously didn't capture the real masked person so...", sky suddenly felt extremely clueless to what the queen was talking about, who got arrested recently?

"The guy who was letting masky keep a child and a evil lair under his bar...that's who, they took him into custody...he didn't really get very far, something about him running right into a giant plant who likes stuffed animals...", sky's expression was enough to tell him that no one had really been talking about that capture in comparison to the luna one. "Eclipsa wanted to go but she and globgor need to deal with angel's kingdom, so they decided if janna herself wasn't scary enough...well...fae seems to have an off knack for things falling off the ceiling when she's in a room".

"Wait...why's mason there?".

"Fae asked for him, it seems they're actually friends, and she wouldn't help unless he was there.".

"You guys brought in a CHILD to interrogate a criminal?", marco snickering to themselves at the way she asked that, "Well, we were against it obviously...but having her there was better then not, she does have some additional knowledge after all...that and...i'm worried if i said no in her presence we might have an...unfortunate accident...after mason told me about her bad luck...i'll admit...she makes me nervous...and well...i also might not have wanted her left in a room alone...our castle is damaged enough as is".

"Well...actually if you put her in a room with anyone there tends to be the lingering worry the room might collapse so maybe you have a point.", the idea her mom would take a child to use as a threatening weapon actually sounded really in character for her somehow. At least then maybe they might get a reaction from the guy if janna wasn't enough, though she usually was.

"Me and Tom are not exactly happy about having you involved in this danger but at the same time we know we need your help if we're going to get anywhere...and thankfully with jackie there that guy won't be getting into any funny business, she tends to always be armed...it's actually rather scary when you think about it, but more for him then it is us".

"Well, thanks for trusting us...even if it's a little...it means a lot to us".

"Don't think this means we want you fighting anything dangerous directly, fae is only allowed to help because she has info that is helpful to us...we would neve have allowed her to help otherwise...but having a citizen give us info from a citizen point of view is just kinda helpful...can't get much as that as a ruler...not unless the servants gossip like crazy".

"Well for our sakes, let's hope the guy spills everything in a few minutes...any longer with fae and he might combust".

Marco laughed but somehow they didn't actually doubt that and it slowly became a more concerned and nervous chuckle.

"Anyways...they're taking care of that...we just have to focus on the king's arrival...angel's still in the safe room to my knowledge so we'll get him when we drop these off, though he seems to be a bit uneasy so be careful around him". Guess with his dad coming to visit he was going to be sick in the stomach for awhile, like how he had been when he was about to be on trial.

His father being forced to deal with the kingdom after him, their prince, started working with an enemy to mewni, made him scared...he was disappointed in him and he knew it.

He was going to be forced to talk to him about what had happened directly and everything going on and that was something hard to be fully prepared for, no matter how much he was expecting it. Sure, he could bring good news in terms of his mother but even he was worried about what his mom would say about everything he had done since she had been sick.

So yeah, he was in quite a mood when they arrived passed the guards, angel was by himself, not interacting with any of the others, in fact he seemed to be talking to himself. Judas or sky was usually there to reassure him or calm him down but with the both of them having been out for most of the day he had been left to his own person. Sky noticing nora was also out, otherwise she would've expected her to be here with him.

She didn't hesitate to approach him after the others sat down the snacks, angel actually startled as she approached, as if he hadn't seen her even enter the room because of how distracted he had been. Though he was relieved, probably expecting someone way worse to have come for him, the monster prince trying to pull himself together and make himself look less of a mess.

"Hey...how you doing?".

She probably knew the answer to that already but she still felt she should ask.

Angel sweating in his seat as he tried to pull his hair back into a ponytail, having a hard time making eye contact with sky, "My dad's coming...he can't see me like this, i'm a mess...i never used to look like a mess...what if he sees me like this and thinks i've gone off the deep end or i'm no longer much of a prince?! Sky i don't know if i can do this...things went so bad last time i saw him...".

"You didn't get much of a goodbye after the trial...did you?".

He shook his head.

"I didn't want to show my face to him and he left without a word to me...probably for similar reasons...i haven't seen him since then, he just...let me here...in the care of your families...i'm terrified of what he might think of what the other arachs have been telling him...they all already hated me and i can't think anything got better after you saved me...i...he'll probably tell me i'm dethroned...".

"You don't know that, your dad seems mostly nice...i mean he's never been THAT bad".

"Maybe not...but i'm not taking any chances...i probably deserve it though...he's had enough time to really consider it as an option, even after what happened at the trial...plus no one wants me as king back there anyway".

"Angel, c'mon, that's not true, we've talked about this...you want to be king and you can do it too! Who cares what your dad thinks!".

"I care!", he said that a little too aggressive then he had been intending, suddenly sheepish.

"Sorry sky...didn't mean to lash out at you...it's just...being king means nothing if the current king doesn't think i should...even if i really want it, he does have the power to transfer the crown if he wants to...even if it's to the farther out cousin i have somewhere...i wasn't a good prince...even if i want to do things right now...that doesn't change much if they say no".

Sky couldn't argue that no matter how much she wanted to, angel was the rightful heir but that didn't stop plenty of other kingdoms from giving the crown to more distant relatives before. Gee, now she was thinking about what meteora said before when she had trashed on the guy, she, judas, and him seemed to be favorites to hate in mewni for reasons...some much more fair then others but still.

"Well...maybe your dad will be happy to see you...a lot has changed since then after all right?

You can't be completely sure of how he feels, since you've been helping us out maybe he understands you have really learned and want to do better...i mean, you screwed me over a lot...but i'm a but better about it then i was at the time."

"I want to think that...but after what i did...i keep doubting myself sky...i don't know why i'm like this...i just can't be as positive as you and judas...even though i want to...I...", he thought back to the advice nora gave him, taking a breath and trying to remember what he did was all in the past, and there was nothing he could do about it now but work to do better.

"You really think my dad will forgive me? He's not like you, he's been away from me all this time...I'm scare to face him.".

"I mean if he doesn't forgive you i'm sure eclipsa will have no trouble signing adoption papers for you", she was joking to lighten the mood but in actuality that was a likely outcome if things were really to get worse. Angel standing up and streching his legs, "Hey...can you at least help me get ready to meet him?...i think i looks like a mess...i don't want to look like one when i see him...and your way better with clothes then i am".

"Well...how do you wanna dress? More princely? Or more like..."

She motioned to his borrowed clothes from judas, because judas was taller then them his clothes, while looking nice on the prince, were a bit more oversized. It wasn't the most ideal prince look.

"Why ask...you know what the better option is?".

"Just saying angel, maybe you outta see your dad as yourself...not trying to be something your not, better way to judge you then to pretend to be perfect after everything...i mean if formal is what you feel like wearing i ain't stopping you but i'm just saying you should dress as who you are now and not what your dad wants you to be". Angel shuffled in his place before taking out the hairband, his hair free again, "We can figure it out while you show me some options...if that's ok?", she nodded and followed him back to the group, marco happy to see him.

"Angel! Hey, i hope you're doing ok...if you need anything just ask us...we'll be happy to help you in any way we can...but just always stick with one of us, for your safety and ours...at this point we have a buddy system, as well as way too many guards...but it's better then you or any of us getting in any sort of danger...so just stick by and find help if you need it".

"Don't worry, i don't plan to leave anyone's side...not yours, sky's...anyone's...if i can help it...at this point i get anxious from being alone...", that was when sky awkwardly held out her hand, "Look, don't take this the wrong way, but if you need to hold me to feel comfortable...judas tends to do it with me when he really needs it so...just in case you might have some kinda panic attack about the masked guy or whatever".

Angel's small grin was very appreciative.

"Thank you, i'll keep that in mind...".

"You ready?", marco started waving to everyone still inside the room as they made their way towards the door, the kids following suit, lexi trotting along in the back. She looked happy to have angel with them as well, patting him on the back as if welcoming him. Galexia did have a way of making people feel rather welcome around her, whether she knew them or not.

"Were we headed first?".

"Marco looked back at the others, leading the way.

"The kitchens...we have a lot to do, he's going to be having dinner with us tonight...with former queen moon, the sooner we prepare for tonight, the better".-

Landon felt he was starting to get somewhere, if even it was just a little.

At the very least his marks were slightly more consistent then they were before, which was an improvement to an extent. He'd been training for hours, barely leaving the room. It was nice to get away from the others, for now this was mostly private and something he wanted to keep mostly private until he figured out his best course of action. Maybe after figuring out how to activate his marks he could then really work on magic with some help.

He'd considered looking at sky's spellbook but no way would he ever get permission to be in her room without asking her first, and she'd be suspicious of his actions for sure.

She had already been before, she'd probably assume he wanted to look into some of the darker magic.

But he also couldn't claim she wasn't completely wrong about that last bit, he did feel a bit curious about some more of the magic of the butterflies. It was forbidden for most people to see it unless a butterfly showed them so even getting a chance to see what was inside would be interesting, landon was a special case after all, he wasn't even a butterfly.

He should be allowed more permission then anyone out there, otherwise this was a missed opportunity.

Not many queens could ever claim to something like being able to train those who weren't apart of the butterfly family with their magic, though at the same time the queens ,were so picky with who got to use it maybe at the time it wasn't even considered an option.

Regardless that wasn't the point, the point was landon had powers, and if he wasn't trained to use them now he might never get to.

He was the forgotten brother after all.So forgive him if he had his doubts that anyone would train him in magic after things may of gotten slightly better. He hadn't exactly had a lot of attention like his own brothers had had, there was no reason to him this would make a huge difference. But if everyone was distracted, it only meant more time for him to learn more alone, not judged, not controlled.

So maybe there was benefit to being ignored.

He wasn't going to be a powerful magic user anytime soon, but this was bringing him some confidence he never had before without either bernard, or his mom cheering him on. He never thought his music was capable of magic before, it was like making his own spell, even if he hadn't been doing it on purpose. If he could figure it out just a little more maybe he could make something happen.

Hopefully a good something.

He was taking notes, testing what worked and what didn't, it was like a strange musical puzzle. Maybe if he knew more about magic he could figure this out a lot easier, but his wand was catered to him right? So it should paly by his rules, his music rules. On the other hand, he wasn't using his wand, he was using a normal violin, having a wand would make this process so much faster.

He might as well have been trying to dip down.

No queen had been able to do this without some practice, so yeah, no wonder he was making little progress.

He put down his instrument, sighing, maybe he really would have to approach celeste for help, cause boy he wasn't going to be using sky's wand in it's condition, and he doubted sunny would just hand it to him. Granted, maybe if he tried to convince lexi he might have better chances if she didn't think about it too hard, otherwise he might not finish any spell till sky was queen.

But that was enough progress for today, he outta take a break and eat something before everyone did start wondering where he was and found him trying to do magic, he didn't want to have to make up a fake excuse so he didn't look suspicious. Everyone was already on edge enough, they might assume he was mind-controlled or something if he started acting weird around here.

Violin strapped to his back, he started heading his way out of the guarded room.

Mason promised to meet him later, something about a hangout with fae he had to do first?

Either way if he was going to finally talk to his crush he was going to need help, he'd tried doing it by himself and he chickened out, so maybe it was about time he had a bit of help...even if it was from his younger brother of all people. It was a strange priority to have right now of course, but if he didn't do it now, he might not get to again.

He was being tailed of course, by guards who needed to watch him, which made him only more anxious, but he found them easier to ignore when his mind was more distracted with other thoughts. He was thankful he had been allowed to practice in private at all, he half expected them to sit and watch him, which would not have worked with his magic practice at all.

Until mason came to help he already knew what he wanted to do first.

Talk to celeste.

Celeste was still not in the greatest of moods, but when was she ever in a good mood in the first place? Seeing luna again seemed to have made her grumpier then she was before and that was saying something, she went right to bed and never spoke once in the morning, she clearly had wanted to be left alone to deal with her feelings towards luna after how rude she had been to everyone.

Yeah, celeste herself hadn't been the peak of niceness, but luna was...oof.

How she made everyone feel, how she hurt everyone, how she treated everyone who had been helping her. Something about her really seemed to annoy celeste, and in ways that didn't seem to suit to anyone else. It didn't start that way, luna came to her first for help when they wanted to go home more desperately, seeing her as an ally, but it seemed anyone who worked with luna for more then a few minutes were quick to get annoyed.

Landon could relate.

But he had to check on her, he'd feel like an awful technical brother if he didn't.

Once he had made it to the safe room he saw her on a nearby couch, she wasn't even doing anything, no reading, no music, nothing, instead she just seemed to be thinking to herself.

Everyone who really did talk to her wasn't here, leaving her all by her lonesome, and landon's shoulders sunk as he knew this feeling more then he wanted to remember.

He approached her, a small wave as he tried to her her attention.

"Hola".

She glanced up at him, speaking a small bit of spanish in return.

"Hola...".

Was it just him or did she seem to be...sad actually? Like she was in some sort of a slump? She was moody often but right now she seemed more...sad...less mad...and just odd for celeste overall. She seemed to mostly be huddled up on the couch, lost in thought as she looked landon over, noticing he had his violin on him, "Hey...i didn't say it before but...nice job on the spell".

A compliment?

"Thanks cele...i know me using your wand sorta felt...mixed for you...but thanks for letting me use it, really".

"Don't mention it, though don't assume i'm going to let you have it again right now...cause i'm not, i just...y'know...it's a hard spell for anyone to do...", she turned her head away, landon taking a seat next to her, "Hey uh...maybe this sounds like a bad idea, like a really bad idea, but maybe the two of us should see if we can head out and pay luna a visit or something...".His words quickly earned him a confused scowl from the girl, though he had been expecting it.

"What?".

She said it with a tone that felt rather nasty and that quickly got landon to change the way he talked about this idea, he didn't want to make a scene and get celeste more upset. She was clearly upset enough as is, and of course so was he, but he had at least kept himself distracted enough to not fall into a slump about it. Celeste in this state was someone to be cautious about.

"I'm thinking well...maybe we need some closure...with luna...you and me seem to be...torn up about her and mad with her and everyone can tell we both dislike her in particular...so i dunno...maybe we should talk to her...or something, maybe help us feel better...so we might work better with the others...so we can move on from all of this...y'know?", he didn't like the idea any better then she did but the idea might work.

Angel and Sky became friends despite not liking each other like this.

So did his own parents.

It had to have crossed his mind, and it was what his mom would suggest them doing if he had asked. If he was going to confront his crush, confronting luna was at least a good way to help landon progress with confronting his problems rather then letting them weltch up inside of him for long periods of time before bursting randomly in a fit of rage.

Granted, this was luna, so it might not even work, but maybe it would be better then them both being bitter as they were all the time about her. At the very least they might have an ending to all of this mess and be able to move on without falling into anger the moment the blonde was even so much as mentioned by anyone. "Hey...you don't have to if you don't want to...i was just making a suggestion if you were interested", he tapped his foot on the floor, shrugging.

She didn't respond.

"I just wanted to check on you ok? So sorry if i'm bothering you...i just wanted to make sure you were ok...i get it if you want me to leave".

"No.".

He paused, standing in place, worried if he had said something wrong as celeste seemed to cool down some more, though she wasn't looking at him. "Thanks for...checking up on me, i'd thought you were too busy to really care...but...it's nice, i've...i've been kinda alone all day...the others have been out mostly so...i haven't had anyone to talk to.".

"It's not a big deal, we're friends...kinda...right?".

Her brows furrowed, and landon could tell she wanted to say "Yes", but wanted to avoid the cheesyness of having to admit to it. Instead he rubbed his boots into the carpet, sighing, "Well, i'm glad we're friends...even if it's kinda complicated...and um...thanks for the compliment, it really does kinda mean a lot to me". She still didn't look at him, her eyes elsewhere as he took a step back, "Well, if you aren't coming i still want to go, it's important to me, if you want you can wait for me here and we can hang out for a bit after i'm done since i'm waiting for mason-".

"Wait.".

He turned to look at her, the girl getting up and off the couch, "Let's go talk to her...i have some things i actually would like to say to her...", she glared at nothing in particular, fists clenched. Landon suddenly wishing he hadn't said anything at all, as he might of just accidentally set up a fight between two sisters instead of actually making things better.

"What exactly do you want to tell her ? Not assuming anything celeste, it's just-".

She turned to look at him, still stern, and not looking to waste any more time, "Let's go, before someone else gets there before we do".

#star vs the forces of evil #sky and the forces of the multiverse #tomco bby #tomstar bby #starco bby #ostar bby #tom the demon #tom lucitor #marco diaz #marco #my art

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