#will step up and lead us!' and then fiona does it but everyone hates her and she majorly fucks up a bunch

[potatoesandsunshine]

just remembered the oculara situation brb going insane about it

#my trev when this is discovered: huh. in other news I'm possessed by a rage demon right now don't worry about it though #cole has such a good response to it like a full declaration that he will put a stop to this #meanwhile trev is like oh okay. so my mage rebellion allowed this to happen. time to burn everything-everything down not just the stuff #we were already burning down. let's light the rest. #she really views the entire redcliffe situation as a failure of fiona's leadership which is a bit unfair #but also like. you're telling me i dragged half a circle across countries and put them in your care. then i went to the conclave to spy for #you which was definitely implicitly payment for the rebellion looking after my people. then i get back to redcliffe #and you GAVE THEM TO A MAGISTER. and the tranquil are DEAD. this is on YOU. #literally the ONLY reason fiona is allowed to be breathing and alive in my library is bc if she died vivienne would effortlessly take over #the mage rebellion has such a void of leadership like. 'oh hawke is in hiding and anders is controversial and surana is gone who #will step up and lead us!' and then fiona does it but everyone hates her and she majorly fucks up a bunch #and vivienne is clearly the most capable person waiting in the wings but unfortunately she believes in the circle #like. the mages cannot get the w #my mage trevelyan is a very like soft power lean on people when she can get away with it lie when she can't type #but i do think that shack is like an 'oh i thought i knew where the lines were but i was unprepared for this one to be crossed' moment

[walker-journal]

At Hell’s Gates (Bea, Adam, Luce- POTW)

Participants: Beatrice Vural (Spellcaster- Fiona), Lucinda Vural (Spellcaster-Cal), Adam Walker (Hunter- Tapir)

Summary: Adam brings Nell’s skin talisman to the Vural house to plan a rescue operation into a Hell Dimension with Luce and Bea as time runs out. 

Content Warning: Allusion to sibling death in the Bea resurrection plot

In a way Adam appreciated the breakneck speed of preparations, the staggering level of planning needed to even attempt this almost impossible task. Every second fussing over environment resist gear, talking to Naomi about atmospheric poisons, and running over possible dimensional scenarios with mom was one where he wasn’t thinking about Nell being tortured in hell. Eventually he just had to drug himself to sleep, as he’d be no use on the mission already exhausted. 

Adam caught a glimpse of his reflection in one of the windows of the Vural home. He looked like someone about to venture into a radiative wasteland or wade through mustard gas, heavy boots, sealed armor, and a gas mask hanging from his belt. In truth, even with all this equipment he was pathetically underprepared for what was coming. 

But as always, Adam put on a face of stony resolution. He’d mastered the unphased action hero act a long time ago, even if his reflection had a numb thousand-yard stare that didn’t quite fit. 

“So what’s the magic plan?” 

The bracelet around Luce’s wrist had pinged the second Adam had crossed the boundary line, the magic a reminder of the sister she had lost. Nell had been the one who’d insisted upon the bracelets, something simple and small that they could always keep on them. She’d been so different back then. Younger. Unburdened by the weight that this town placed on its inhabitants. Luce let out a sigh and made her way to the front door, letting Adam inside. He looked like he was going to be rolling up into Chernobyl and, for all any of them knew, he would be. They didn’t know what was on the other side of those portals. And as much as Luce wanted to rush into the first rift she saw, she knew she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave Bea here, alone, to worry and to curse her name. 

Cupping a glass of water in her hands, Luce looked over at her older sister, uncertain. “I don’t know. I’m not the one with the master plan, not this time.” Not ever really. She was just here to get things done, to bring Nell home. She might have lines now, boundaries she wouldn’t cross. But she needed to bring her sister home. “Bea, you find anything in the books on how we can get her back?”

In her early twenties Bea had been worried about her breakups and losing touch with her friends, how different that was from her sisters’ lives. How different that was from Adam’s life. He was walking into war for her baby sister and the eldest Vural could not help but see the flash of the blade cutting down when she looked at him. How many people would risk their lives for Nell? Would Adam be added to the list that had lost theirs for her? Nell, of course, was worth it, but Bea couldn’t help wishing that Adam and Nell could simply lead a life that was similar to Bea’s at their age. 

Her shadows swirled at her feet, agitated by the whirling emotions suffocating their mother, they clung to her ankles as she moved to grab a tome she had taken from Nell’s things. “We’ll be using her magic for this. Or at least we will be using an adjusted version of her magic,” Her voice flowed confidently through the space, coating every surface with honeyed hope that she did not feel. Is this how Luce and Nell felt when they lost her? Luce, now, had witnessed both of her sisters gone, taken unfairly from this world. In an impulsive move, Bea found her little sister’s hand, squeezing as she thought of the terror that must be drowning the middle Vural. “Adam, we will get her back.” Bea would destroy this world for her sister, if it meant she was safe. She would tear the fabric that kept this plane stable. She wondered if the universe knew, if it was prepared to go to war for Penelope Vural. Bea was ready. 

Adam had always been cautioned against hope. It was a purely therapeutic emotion, meant to comfort the dread of uncertainty. Esther Walker had instructed her children that facts should be assessed only for what they were rather than what we want them to be. We are not gods. This is not Hollywood. The cold universe wouldn’t fudge the numbers just because some monkeys on a random rock in the Milky Way had feelings in their skull. 

But Adam knew that not everyone grew up with their mom bluntly stating that they’d eventually lose everyone they care about in the long war. While Adam knew this grimness was Esther’s way of loving him authentically, it’d probably be cruel to give Nell’s sisters the same treatment right now. 

“Hey if we got a plan anything’s possible” he assured Beatrice with a confident lie of smile. Trying not to look at the darkness bubbling at the deathless woman’s feed, Adam turned his attention to Luce briefly. “Hey uh, resident fire scientist. Any way I could get something that might give me a chance if like...there is like an inferno or something? Just a few seconds to get the fuck out?” 

Adam shifted his weight, leather and alloyed kevlar creaking with the moment. “How do we get access Nell’s magic then?”

Bea’s hand slipped into her own and, for the first time, Luce realized just how changed her sister was. The familiar warmth, the heat that had always matched her own-- a source of both frustration and comfort that had followed their whole lives… It was gone now. Bea’s fire was gone. She didn’t have it anymore. She never would. But she was still here, still standing, still trying. And Luce was going to try too. She’d reclaimed her fire, she’d manage to fan the spark back into a blaze, and now that she had the power back? The least she could do was help Adam. To keep him safe. Fuck. She nodded slowly, mulling over how she’d manage something like that. Their mother, she’d made charms to protect Nell from their fire as children, back before they had total control. “I think we have something that we could use-- a necklace Nellie used to wear when she was little. Kept her safe from us, before we could control our fire.” She said, dreading the idea of going into Nell’s room to look for the charm. She didn’t want to step foot in there. Just because she could expect the same anguish that had overtaken her when she’d went into Bea’s room last year-- that didn’t make it any easier. This town, this fucking town. She’d thought that the nightmare had ended, that Bea was safe, that Nell was safe. But nothing changed here.

Looking at the book in Bea’s hand, Luce swallowed. “That’s one of Nells. I don’t know how to do what she does, Bea. Neither one of us do. Summoning, blood magic-- I… What are you planning?”

The charm. Bea had forgotten about the charm that used to keep Nellie safe from them. A physical reminder that she was different from her sister. Bea didn’t blame her for not keeping it on her as an adult. “Do you know where that is?” Nell could have thrown it out years ago, but the youngest Vural tended to know when to hold onto things that could be useful. Bea hoped that she had classified this as something useful enough to hold onto, even with it’s baggage. “I don’t know how to either, but Leah is going to help me research too,” She squeezed her sister’s hand. “We have some luck on our side, we’re already somewhat connected. Her magic is, obviously, connected to ours, but by bringing me back we’re even further intertwined. Your magic combined brought me back, so we can use that as a way to channel her too.” It wouldn’t be that simple though, there were more steps that she wasn’t quite too sure on yet. “We need something else, something to track her too, but I’m not completely sure how to do that yet, if you have any suggestions.”

Adam nodded and mouthed thanks to Luce as Beatrice spoke. He hated to part the sisters with something that reminded them of Nell but when you are about to try a longshot, anything that could ease the odds even slightly was needed. Beatrice's question brought a stab of pain as Adam stirred from where he’d sat, reached into a pocket, and withdrew a battered compass. 

“Nell gave this to me, it was uh a present,” Adam’s stomach clenched at the cruel irony of being given a six months dating present by a sad fire cat. It’d been the morning after he’d taken Nell out to ask their relationship to end for safety’s sake, only for that to be the mistake that caused the disaster he’d hoped to avoid. 

“It points uh,” the answer was that it pointed towards home, though Nell had cautioned that it was more metaphorical than literal. “It can take me to her,” he stammered, trying to keep his voice steady. 

Shifting uncomfortably, Luce swallowed. “It’s in her room. I can…” I don’t want to go in there, not alone. But you could never understand, Bea. You weren’t left behind the way we were. “Get it. Yeah, I’ll grab it.” She said before pushing back from the kitchen table, her hand slipping from Bea’s. She lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching as Adam pulled out a worn looking compass. As Adam explained what it was, Luce couldn’t help but wonder how Nell had gotten her hands on something like that. And just how lucky they were that she had. Luce nodded. “Good. That should… definitely help.” She was dragging her feet, she knew that. Just bite the bullet. With a slightly forced smile, Luce patted the door frame. “I’ll get the necklace.”

The walk up the stairs and down the hall to Nells was a short one, but every step filled Luce with that same anxiety she’d felt every time she had walked past Bea’s door last summer. It was a dread, a fear. That no matter what they did, it wouldn’t be enough. And that all that would be left of her sister would be tucked away in a room. That everything inside would stop being a part of Bea, of Nell, and start being a memorial. A memory. She didn’t want to step foot inside that room. But she had to. If they wanted to find Nell, this was their best shot. Luce pushed open the door and forced herself not to pay attention to the potted plants on their shelves, their leaves wilting a little from lack of care. She didn’t allow herself to dwell on the desk with books still open, the bed unmade with rumpled sheets, as though Nell had just left for the day. These were all reminders of her sister that she couldn’t handle. Instead, Luce began to look for the necklace. 

It wasn’t until this past year that Bea truly understood love. In a sense, she had looked at love the same way her mother did, based on what the other person could do for her. Bea had collected people for their skills, pocketed the ones who were the most useful and claimed she understood love through them. It wasn’t until she had been lost that she got just how powerful love was and even then, though she had seen so much work put into her resurrection, she hadn’t witnessed it all. She hadn’t seen the planning or the original mourning, she had not been involved in the panic and grief. She was unable to escape it here, where love twisted into melancholy suffocating them as aptly as summer heat did in the afternoon. 

Bea reached out to Adam, “Can I hold it? I’ll give it back to you after.” She couldn’t take the physical piece of Nell he had left, but looking at it would help her form a plan. They were all relying on her to make a plan that would bring Nell back. With Luce gone searching, she looked at him for a long moment, considering him. “Adam, I know how much a person would do for Nell.” I know sacrifice and I feel like I’m looking at one. “Please do your best to come back to us too.” Some of that honey sweet hope had dissipated now that Luce was gone, Adam didn’t need that, not in the way Luce did. “Is there anyone who can go with you as back up?” Please, don’t do this alone. 

Adam pressed the compass in Beatrice’s hand. It took Adam a bit to answer Beatrice's request. His wide distant eyes and the lost way they drifted around the Vural’s home, looking anywhere but Bea’s face, revealed the lie behind the firm set of his jaw.

It’d been a long time since Adam had felt his age. Uncertainty and finding yourself were unnecessary when you’d grown up already knowing you’d be a soldier and what war you’d be fighting in. His civilian peers had gone through heartbreaks, angst, anger, cycles of rebellion, maturation, acceptance, and reinvention. But Adam had already grown up at sixteen, when he signed away his life to fight and die in service to humanity. He’d learned how to make bombs, lethal holds, blades, marksmanship, and how to keep his head in a warzone when everyone else had been fretting about what school clique to fall in. 

But now Adam suddenly felt like a child in this tactical armor. It was as if he’d finally woken up from a dream to realize the weight was too heavy for him, but it was already way too late to learn all that stuff the other kids took for granted. Adam marveled at how narrow his own knowledge of the world was. 

Honestly? He knew way more about how to kill monsters than how to be human. 

With bittersweetness, Adam realized that made him exactly what Nell hadn't needed, and only now that she was trapped in Hell was he an ideal partner. 

“I promised Luce I’d come with her back to Earth,” was the only assurance Adam could offer Beatrice. He shook his head at the matter of back up. “I’ve got family and Hunter friends who volunteered but I can’t ask them to take this risk. Besides we need all hands on deck to deal with all the shit coming out of the Portals.”

There were times people should be selfish and this felt like a time, but Bea knew that Adam wouldn’t agree. She could spend all night trying to convince him otherwise and it wouldn't work. He was more stubborn than Nellie sometimes, which was saying something. They were the only people that could get through to each other sometimes. It reminded her a bit of how she and Felix could be with each other. 

“Is it going to be that bad?” She had no idea what these portals could mean for everyone else after all this. Honestly, she didn’t really care what happened as long as the people she loved were going to be okay. “You aren’t asking them if they offered, Adam.”

“In situations like these the portals often get worse, opening wider till they let bigger and bigger things through, stuff that our weapons won't work on,” Adam claimed, suggesting perhaps that the already deadly things coming through the dimensional breaches right now were just small fry compared to what really waited in the beyond. 

“Eventually we get what’s sometimes called a Hellmouth,” the Hunter said, numbly staring at a wall as the present mixed with another time where doomsday had loomed near. “Unless its stopped reality itself could be permanently fucked around here...well...fucked even harder I mean, in a way that can’t be covered up from the outside world any more. They’ll probably notice the tentacle godzillas after a bit.”  

Everyone had called Dad a hero. Had he felt like this, just another expendable piece of kindling thrown on the fire to keep ‘normal’ going for just a little while longer? 

“Hey uh,” Adam prevaricated with a shrug knowing Beatrice was correct. “I’ve ask people for supplies and stuff. They’ve been very generous, but actually going in is something I don’t think I have the right to ask.” Of someone that wasn’t raised to die that way, was rest that was left unsaid. 

It was always the end of the world, it seemed. No matter what everyone did to fix it, something else would come and take the mantle. Bea couldn’t help but feel as though sometimes these things were inevitable. It didn’t stop her from understanding the need to fight, if anything she got that this made people fight harder, because at least they had done something then. Still to fight for a world that didn’t know you were doing it must be exhausting. “So, it needs to close or else we’re all going to die via horrible ways.” The countdown they had already started to tick faster. “I guess it's good that we have people who are going to help then.”

Her throat tightened with unsaid words of caution and unnecessary attempts to dissuade him. Bea knew the look in his eyes, knew that no matter what she did or said, he wouldn’t turn from this course of action. She was sure she would have seen the same look in her own if someone had dared to stop her before she found Nell. “I suppose giving you supplies is enough.” It wasn’t. 

Bea went back to Nell’s book, hoping that skimming again would reveal something else. And it did. She looked between the compass in her hand and the word bone. “Adam, do you know if Nell’s been keeping anything she’s killed? Like the bones of a monster?” The words came out quickly, excited by the potential that laid between them now. 

Adam nodded. “On our first mission together, there was an Alchemist dude who was using a Dolophage to harvest intense emotions and memories from trauma patients,” the Hunter explained, swallowing down the bittersweet feeling of that recollection. It was hard to imagine that’d hadn’t even been a year ago. “Nell forged the Reversal Talisman so the Dologphage’s powers reflected back on it when it tried to tentacle my brain,” Adam explained, poking his ears to illustrate that he’d volunteered to get fed on by the demon as bait. “After we killed it she kept its bones.” 

Digging around in Nell’s room wasn’t easy. Luce had known it wasn’t going to be easy. Not when there was so much uncertainty and that sense of doubt loomed over her every move. The moment she’d heard that Nell was gone, the second she’d heard from Adam, a pit had formed in her stomach. Or maybe it reopened-- maybe it wasn’t a pit so much as it was a gaping wound, created by Bea’s death, that she’d barely been able to tend to. She hadn’t stopped to process the loss, the grief, the anger. The anger. She’d only managed to get a hold of that until it was too late. And just as she was finally coming to grips with the events of the past year, White Crest found a fucking way to open up the wounds. Shutting the dresser drawer she’d been pawing through, Luce settled down on the edge of Nell’s unmade bed. 

Luce clenched her jaw as she tried to sort through her thoughts, trying to figure out where Nell might keep the necklace. But all she could think of was how much it would hurt if she had to do this for real. If she had to pack up boxes of Nell’s things. She hadn’t had to do it with Bea, they’d known how to bring her back, known exactly what they needed to do, even if they weren’t sure if it would work. But Nell was lost. Gone. And Luce had no fucking clue how she could help. Swallowing, Luce wiped her eyes with the back of her hand before her gaze fell on a simple box on Nell’s bookshelf. Luce moved towards it, apprehensive. Her fingers lifted the lid and inside were little trinkets-- magical in nature. Some of them familiar to her, others she didn’t know where Nell had even found them. But there it was. The necklace Nisa had enchanted all those years. Luce took the necklace from the box and closed the box before hurrying out the door. She didn’t want to stay in that room, didn’t want to see that place again. Not until Nell was back. Not until they were all safe.

“Hey. Found it.” Luce said as she held up the little silver charm necklace. “We might need to re-up the magic, but it should help. And hey. Might help with the tracking situation. She wore this all the time.”

Plans were beginning to race rapidly through Bea’s mind, wheels spinning so quickly that she was almost scared they’d burn out. “With that bone we could connect with her,” She mused, before grinning at Luce. “And with the necklace we’ll also be able to tell how close Adam is to her. He’ll be able to use the compass, hopefully, in the dimension to find her quickly.” With eyes brighter than they had been since Nell was gone, Bea looked between the two younger adults,“We have a plan now, a really good one, with three ways to track her. We’re going to get her back.” And the moment she got back, she was going to get the lecture of her fucking life. 

Adam nodded. “Hey...thanks both of you, like I know you’d do this for Nell anyway, but I still appreciate you folks having my back on this.” 

Luce leaned against the doorway, taking in the scene. Bea, determined, her old fire lit inside her with this new mission to get her sister back. Adam, weary in a way that no one should be at his age, but filled with the same resolve. And then there was her. She fell somewhere between the two of them-- somewhere between grim determination and optimism. They were going to bring Nell home, come hell or high water. Which, in this town? Either could happen. “Sounds like we’ve got a game plan then.” Luce said with a nod. “Of course, Adam. And… thanks for leading the charge here. We’re gonna bring her home.”

#POTW #Portal Combat #bea #adam #luce #divineluce #beatrice-blaze #sibling death tw

[rainy-day-gracie]

Old Friends 1

spencer reid x reader

Chapter 2 has been posted!!

Chapter 1: 

Walking into the BAU on my first day felt like walking into kindergarten on the first day of school. Butterflies filled my stomach, and the elevator felt too small. 

   Walking through the glass doors of the BAU, my first impression was calm. No one seemed to notice my existence, and the large box full of my stuff in my hands. 

    I made a beeline for Agent Hotchner’s office and quickly knocked on the door. “Come in.” 

    “Um, hello, Agent Hotchner-“ 

    He looked up at me from his desk, suddenly realizing who I was. “Ah, yes, Agent YLN. I’ll show you to your desk right away.” He put a reassuring pat on my shoulder before guiding me back down the stairs into the bullpen. 

    “Attention everyone, this is SSA Dr. YFN YLN. She will be joining the team today, and will be with us on future cases.”

    A friendly blonde woman stepped forward and kindly shook my hand after I placed the large box on the empty desk. “I’m SSA Jennifer Jareau, but everyone here just calls me JJ.”

   I smiled nervously. “Very nice to meet you, JJ.”

   I scanned the group of people beginning to get up from their desks. A muscled, dark skinned man. A woman with dark black hair. An older man I recognized as David Rossi. And the person I knew all too well. 

    “Oh, hello, new person!” A voice called from up the stairs. A blonde woman wearing a bright pink dress stood there holding a stack of files. “Hate to interrupt introductions, but we have a case.” 

     The team started filing up the stairs, and a warm hand pulled me aside. 

     “Hey,” Spencer said quietly, as if in a trance. 

     “Hey, Spencer,” I replied. “I would love to catch up later, but we have to get upstairs. Is that cool?” 

      He snapped out of the daze he seemed to be in. “Oh, oh, yeah totally fine.” 

     I laughed quietly as we hurried slightly up the stairs. Same old Spencer. 

  “Four women in Birmingham, Alabama, electrocuted on chain link fences. All married with children, and all of them have lived in Birmingham their whole lives.” The woman in the pink dress I now know as Penelope explained as the images popped up on the screen. 

     “Odd method of death, but very effective. After a certain amount of time of being electrocuted, the heart and body just can’t take the shock anymore and shut down.” Spencer added, talking quickly. 

     “The restraints and clean method of killing suggest an organized killer. Any sign of sexual assault?” I asked Penelope. 

     “None.”

     “A note was left in the last victim’s mouth, however,” Hotchner added. “The note had read, ‘Quite a shock it must be to find out the Earth Mother isn’t so noble’. This taunt leads us to believe the killer isn’t going to stop until we catch him. Wheels up in 20.”

The jet was even nicer than I expected. And so were the people on the jet. 

   “So, we do we make of the message that was left? Is it truly simply a taunt, or does it mean something more?” Morgan asked. 

    “Well, the use of the phrase ‘Earth Mother’ suggests that the killer doesn’t believe the victims are as innocent as everyone claims that they are. The use of the word ‘shock’ means that the killer is most likely deriving pleasure and satisfaction from the electrocution.” Spencer explained, moving his hands animatedly. Same ramblings since college. 

    “Okay, so I know I’m knew here,” I started out. “But could this killer be a woman? The clean murders and organized targets suggest a more feminine killer. The note talking about the Earth Mother could be a jealous way of punishing these mothers for their supposed crimes. Also, there wasn’t any sexual assault.” 

    The team thought for a second. “That fits with the nature of the crimes. I agree with YLN,” Hotchner agreed. 

   “Not bad, newbie,” Morgan chuckled. “What are some other things about you?”

    Oh boy. I had to be careful about this question. Spencer looked down at his case file next to me, trying not to laugh. 

    “Well, I have three PhDs in psychology, sociology, and mathematics, and two BAs in philosophy and linguistics.” Just by looking at the faces of the people around you, they were beyond impressed. “I can speak Latin, French, Spanish, Russian, and obviously English. And I am very grateful to have gotten a job with the BAU.” 

   Everyone was speechless until Rossi piped, “Damn, kid. She could give you a run for your money.”

   Spencer smiled. “Oh, trust me, I know.” Oh god. 

   “What?” JJ questioned. “Do you guys know each other?” 

   Both Spencer and I turned red. “Um, well, we went to college together for a while. Just old friends.” And maybe a little bit more. Just a little bit. 

   “Landing in 10 minutes. And we are very grateful to have you here, Agent YLN,” Hotchner said.

   “Thank you, Agent Hotchner.”

   “Please, call me Hotch.” 

Since I was new to the team and “old friends” with Spencer, we wound up at the Birmingham police station together as a first assignment. 

   While working on the geographic profile and victimology, Spencer spoke up. “So, uh, it’s been a while.”

   I smiled shyly. “Yes it has. You are definitely different than I remember you being in college.” In college he was this scrawny, brainy, awkward sixteen year old, too afraid of girls to talk to the only other person his age on the MIT campus. Until I eventually made him talk because we were both lonely out of our minds. “But I still feel like I know you better than anyone.” 

   He sat casually on the large table we were working at. “That’s probably true, I haven’t really had any relationships since... you.” 

   “Same here, my friend.” 

   Spencer nervously cleared his throat. “I know I haven’t seen you in almost ten years, and I don’t even know how long this case is going to take, but when we get back... do you wanna go out to dinner with me? You know... to catch up?” 

   He may be different but he still has the same awkward charm as in college. I chuckled. “I would love that.” 

   We both smile. “Great... well, it’s a date.” 

Our unsub turns out to be Michelle Collins, a 39 year old woman who had her baby taken away after being declared an unfit mother. 

    “Great, we know who, but we don’t know the where.” Morgan groaned. “Garcia, what’s her work and home addresses?” 

    “Both of which sent to your phones, my loves!” Penelope called over speakerphone. “Be safe!”

     She wasn’t at either address. 

     “If she’s not at either address, then she’s probably with her next victim,” Hotch pointed. “Call Garcia, see if she can find anything.” 

     “Hello, new and the beautiful! What can I do for you?” She called over speakerphone. 

      “Garcia, have there been any reports of a mother being abducted? Most likely in the last hour or so?”

      I heard her typing frantically over the phone. “Yes, Fiona Hillman was abducted twenty minutes ago from a supermarket two blocks from Michelle’s work.”

     Hotch looked at you, Spencer and Prentiss. “We’re closer to where Fiona was abducted. Search the surrounding area until we find Michelle’s car and go on foot from there.” 

      It took all of ten minutes to find her car. Fiona was already tied to the metal fence outside a warehouse, Michelle holding a small revolver to her head.

      “Michelle Collins! FBI!” Spencer yelled across the field to the ware house. 

      “Drop the gun and put your hands on your head!” I called out, making sure to aim my gun as close to her chest as I could get. 

      “Profile says that we can’t talk her down,” Spencer mumbled to me. 

     “No, no, no! You don’t understand! She doesn’t deserve to be a mother!” Michelle screamed frantically, pressing the gun further into Fiona’s temple. “I saw her abuse her poor child! She needs to die!”

     “Michelle, I know that they took your baby away, and I know that you desperately wanted to be the perfect mother, but this is not the way to do it!” I yelled back. 

     “What do you know?” She stepped back from Fiona, switching the aim of her gun to me. “You’re just a-“

    BANG! 

    Shot went right into her shoulder. Spencer fired before I got the chance, both of us running to the two women. Michelle was on the ground, crying hysterically. Fiona was quickly untied from the fence, almost collapsing into my arms while Spencer put pressure on Michelle’s wound. 

    He looked back at me as the medics started flooding the scene. “We make a pretty good team, YFN. I’m really glad you’re here.” 

    I smiled, and Hotch walked up with a pleased expression. “Exceptional work, Agents. Head back to the station and we can head back to DC in a few hours.”

   On the ride back to the station, we were both quiet. “Cases don’t always turn out so good.” Spencer finally said. 

   “Does it ever feel as if you’re stuck?” I asked quietly. “Constantly in this cycle of catching monsters.” 

    Spencer was quiet for a long time before he answered. “It feels like that all the time. But the lives we save makes everything worth it.” 

I sat on the right side of the jet, listening to classical music and staring out the window. I almost didn’t notice Prentiss and JJ sit next to and across from me. 

  “Hey guys, what’s up?” 

  JJ gave me a smile. “What’s up is that Spencer has never been this happy on a case before.” 

  “Is there something you wanna tell us about your “old friend” from college?” Prentiss looked at me expectantly. 

   I chuckled into the book I was reading. “Well- um, I was Spencer’s first real girlfriend. We dated for almost two years when we were at MIT together.”

   “Oh my god, I knew it!” JJ laughed into her hand. “Wait until we tell Garcia. She’s going to lose it.”

   “Does anyone know?” Prentiss whispered, glancing over the plane. Hotch was the only one up, immersed in paperwork. I shook my head, my face bright red. 

   JJ turned to me. “He’s never been this happy on a case before, so whatever effect you have in him is welcome. We’re glad you’re here, YFN.”

   I smiled brightly. “It’s good to be here.” 

Back at Quantico, Spencer ran up to me as I was walking into the elevator. “Hey, um, I know it’s a little late but... are we still on for dinner?” 

  This day just keeps getting better and better. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  The night ended with Spencer’s face covered in ice cream and a peck on his cheek. 

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #dr spencer reid

[snappedsky]

Borderlands: Skies the Bodyguard 3

Skies the crew finally find Rhys and Fiona...and a surprise guest.

*Links to previous and next chapter in reblog*

--

Chapter 21

Now

           “Jack,” Skies snarls.

           “No, it-it’s not possible,” Timothy stammers in disbelief.

           “He’s right!” Claptrap exclaims, pointing at the computer screen. “How can Jack be in there? He’s dead!”

           “It’s his AI,” Skies replies plainly.

           Another word appears on the screen. ‘Bingo’.

           Crying out with rage, Athena smashes the computer with one swing of her shield.

           “What did Rhys do?” she growls.

           “It can’t be his AI,” Sasha argues, “Rhys said he destroyed it.”

           “Well…he never…definitively said that,” Vaughn points out, “just that he removed it from his head.”

           Everyone is quiet for a second, trying to make sense of the situation. Then Skies takes a deep breath and continues walking down the tunnel. “Come on.”

           “What?” Timothy questions.

           “We have to find Rhys and Fiona, right?” she says, “so let’s go.”

           Everyone follows her down the passage, now feeling tenser than ever. Soon they spot another light source up ahead, this one seemingly streaming out of a doorway. As they get nearer, two people scamper out and stand before them.

           The group stops as their flashlights illuminate the figures and they stare at each other, shocked for second.

           “Fiona!” Sasha cries.

           “Rhys!” Vaughn exclaims.

           “Guys!” Rhys and Fiona cheer.

           The four of them race into a tight hug, talking over each other with excitement. Gortys and Loader Bot are quick to join in, Loader Bot patting Rhys and Fiona’s backs while Gortys whoops happily.

           “Aw, ain’t that sweet,” Claptrap comments while Athena, Timothy, and Skies watch, smiling.

           As the hugging starts to wind down, Rhys spots Skies and smiles at her. She smiles back, a bit more awkwardly.

           Nudging her shoulder, Timothy says, “this is the part where you hug him.”

           “Hu-!” she gasps then clears her throat. “Uh, that-that’s a bit…advanced for me. How about a handshake, or a fist bump? Or a friendly punch in the shoulder? I’m good at that.”

           Claptrap suddenly shoves her and she stumbles up to Rhys. She glares back at the robot, who just waves innocently while Timothy shrugs, before facing him.

           “Uh, Rhys, hey,” she stammers, “it’s-I-um…I’m glad you’re okay. N-not that I was worried or anything. I knew you’d be fine. B-but I mean I wasn’t just gonna leave you, obviously. And-and you know, I’m happy to see you. I mean we’ve been looking for you for days. B-but not just because of that. I’m not just glad to finish a quest or something-.”

           “Skies,” Rhys says, stopping her rambles. She looks at him and he smiles. “I’m happy to see you too.”

           Skies shoulders relax and she smiles back. “Thanks.”            “Aw, that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

           The voice sends a visible chill up Skies’ spine and catches everyone’s attention. They all look into the brightly lit room while Fiona glowers and Rhys sighs heavily.

           “So much for a happy reunion,” Fiona grumbles as everyone goes inside.

           The room appears to be some kind of living space. In the center is a small kitchen table with a couple chairs; against the opposite wall is a small stove, mini fridge, and sink; and in the wall to the left is a doorway leading to a bedroom.

           The wall to the right is covered in computers, consoles, and about a dozen different screens. And displayed on all those screens is the smug grin of Handsome Jack.

           “Well, well, well,” he purrs, “what a reunion! Look at you all!”

           “Bandit girl. Gotta say, liked your old hairstyle better. My old pal, Muscles! What’s with the get-up, you some kind of bandit king? I guess that’s an upgrade. Athena, looking as angry as ever. My first body double. I bet you were hoping I forgot about you, but Handsome Jack never forgets a bitch. And Skies…”            “Wow,” he sighs, “so many people I hate all in one room. Rhys, I just-I gotta thank you for bringing us all together like this.”

           Rhys groans guiltily as everyone glares at him. He opens his mouth, hoping to defend himself, when Athena suddenly rushes forward.

           “Whoa!” he squeaks, barely dodging her punch.

           “Athena!” Skies roars and swings at her. She dodges and they both grab their guns.

           Two shots ring out as the bullets pierce the ceiling. Fiona, Sasha, and Vaughn struggle to hold back Athena while Timothy, August, and Loader Bot do the same with Skies, keeping their guns pointed upwards. Claptrap and Gortys roll around in between them in a panic while Rhys stays back and Jack laughs.

           “I warned you Athena!” Skies barks, “I told you if you tried to hurt him, I would eviscerate you!”

           “I should’ve known better than to trust either of you!” Athena shouts, “especially you, you Jack lover!”

           “Guys, stop!” Gortys begs, “friends shouldn’t fight!”

           “Aw, come on, let them go,” Jack says, “I’d love to see them go at it. An unstoppable force verses an immoveable object.”

           “Shut up, Jack!” everyone yells.

           “Alright, enough!” Rhys snaps, stepping in between them. “Look, this is my fault. You all deserve to be mad at me; you can even try to kill me later. But do it after we’ve collected our Vault prizes. Alright?”

           “What prizes?” Vaughn asks.

           “Sorry, did you miss all the Eridium in those tunnels?” Fiona asks snidely.

           “Yeah, plus this entire Atlas facility,” Rhys adds.

           “So this island is the real Vault treasure?” Sasha questions.

           “I’ll explain,” he says and points at Skies and Athena. “If you two settle down.”

           They glare at each other for a second and Skies drops her gun. “Fine.”

           Athena huffs but does the same. Everyone lets them go and Rhys sighs with relief.

           “Thank you,” he says and clears his throat. “Now. One of the theories about the Vault of the Traveler is that when opened, it would teleport its victors to their nearest place of desire.”

           “So this island is your desire?” August questions, “how’s that?”

           “Well, I wanna rebuild Atlas,” Rhys replies.

           “And I wanna be rich,” Fiona adds.

           “So the facility would be great for my needs once I get it running again,” he explains, “and all that Eridium will make Fiona filthy rich.”

           “The filthiest,” she grins.

           “There’s just one problem. Well, a few actually.”

           Rhys goes over to the computers and pushes a button. One of the screens change from Jack’s face to a view of the surface, where a large battle is taking place between the Crimson Raiders, the Guardians, and the Jack haters.

           “That third group wasn’t there last time we checked,” Fiona says.

           “Aw, jeez,” Timothy groans.

           “If we want to take over this island, not only do we have to deal with all of this,” Rhys explains, gesturing to the fight. “But also the Prototype.”

           “The Prototype?” Vaughn questions.

           “This facility was one of the many that was working on the Gortys project,” he replies.    

           “Me?” Gortys questions.

           “That’s right,” he nods, patting her head. “And they created a prototype of your final form.”

           “I knew it,” Loader Bot states.

           “The Prototype is unstable and dangerous,” Rhys continues, “and it’s being housed in the main control tower. I need to get into that tower to take control of the facility, but I can’t do that as long as the Prototype is up and running.”

           “So, to summarize,” Fiona says, “we need to take control of the island by defeating those three groups on the surface and the giant robot.”

           “Sounds fun,” Skies comments.

           “How are we gonna do it?” Athena asks.

           “I’m working on a plan,” Rhys replies and sits at the table. “In the meantime, why don’t you guys take it easy? You all look exhausted.”

           “Well, it has been a stressful day,” Vaughn sighs.

           Everyone splits off into groups around the room: Vaughn sits with Rhys, Fiona and Sasha go into the bedroom, and Loader Bot and Gortys hang around by the door, with Claptrap following them like a lost puppy. Athena and August keep to themselves while Skies and Timothy watch the screen displaying the surface.

           Skies sighs heavily as she watches fight, rubbing the scar across her right eye.

           “Maybe they’ll kill each other,” Timothy says hopefully.

           “Not likely,” she grunts, “the Crimson Raiders will win. It’s what they do.”

           “I’m rooting for the guys in the Handsome Jack masks,” Jack states, “they got good taste.”

           “They hate you, y’know,” Skies says.

           “Oh. Well, nobody’s perfect. ‘Cept me, of course.”

           Skies scoffs with disgust. “Just ignore him,” Timothy says.

           “I cannot believe I put up with him as long as I did,” she mumbles.

            Jack huffs with annoyance and takes over the screen they’re watching, making them cry with surprise.

           “Look at you two,” he snorts, “wearing cheap rags, covered in dirt and grime, like a couple of peasants. You both were living it up back on Helios.”

           “Better alive and free than ‘living it up’ with you,” Timothy retorts.

           “Ha! Yeah, tell him, Tim,” Skies guffaws.

           “Free?” Jack scoffs, “is that what you felt after you ran away? Knowing I could blow up your head anytime?”

           “Then why didn’t you?”

           “Too easy and too quick. I wanted you to suffer; to live in fear, until the day I came after you myself.”

           “But you didn’t. And then you died.”

           Jack snarls furiously, unable to retort. His glare darkens at Skies chuckling.

           “What happened to you two?” he asks, “you were two of my most loyal subordinates.”

           Skies giggling stops and she glares at him. “Aw, are your feewings hurt? Do you miss the times when we worked for you in exchange for our lives?”

           “What happened, Jack,” she says sternly, “is that we spent time away from you and we learned what you truly are: a sickness. And you infect everyone who dares get close to you.”

           “You’re a virus, Jack.”  

#borderlands #borderlands 2 #tales from the borderlands #borderlands au #borderlands fanfiction #myocs #myart

[toysoldiers-rwby]

[SYT] 1. the sheep and her stupid dogs

Show Your Teeth

Characters: Fiona, Winter, May, Robyn, Joanna Rating: Mature Word Count: 5247

The deadline to find a new teammate and pass their combat exam is approaching fast. Desperate for a substitute, Fiona takes her teammates to Mantle and finds more than a new partner.

Read on Ao3

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Fiona knew Atlas Academy was going to be difficult. The upperclassmen always told them, “Survive the first year and everything else would be a breeze,” but they weren’t a Faunus. They weren’t partnered with a quarry owner’s son. They weren’t surrounded by Atlas born elites, who’s family money was practically made from Faunus blood and bones. Lives even.  

Yes, the first year was hard but not because of the test and training. It was her own partner and those… those stupid elites!  

Fiona remembers the first time she finally broke under those hateful comments. She doesn’t remember the words, her own sobs to loud to hear much of anything. She could barely see Winter’s sneers through her tears. She does remember May’s fist… The feeling of shock, joy, and fear, as it colliding into her partner’s face.  

May beat the quarry owner’s son until his Aura broke then threw in a few more punches hidden under his clothes. All the while Winter Schnee shield Fiona in case he slipped past May. Fiona never stood up to people like that. It always ended bad for her but… she never had people defend her in such a way.

Fiona held her palms to her eyes, trying to push back the tears. She laughed and smiled at the now bittersweet memory, “You two… ugh! You two are such idiots!”  

Rich idiot with money and who knew how Atlas worked. A stupid Schnee too stubborn to care about her family name and a stupid Marigold too angry for reason. Two Atlas elites… who sacrifice their public image for her. Fiona wiped her eyes and replayed the public speech that finally got their fourth member expelled.  

Their team had just won a tournament and stood on stage before the crowd and cameras. Fiona should have known her elites were planning something. On screen May softly nudged Fiona to stand at the far left instead of her usual position in the middle right.  

Winter took the podium with an air of authority and confidence only the the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company could posses . Her voice was steady and calm, “Atlas is the pinnacle of peace and technology. We lead the world and set ourselves to a higher standard to strive beyond perfection,” the Winter-on-screen said. After nearly two years with the elite and countless hours of re-watching, Fiona could see the subtle tells of Winter’s temper rising.  

It was a little scary. She wasn’t as obvious as May’s pulsing veins and clenched jaw. It was her posture. Always perfect but her shoulders tensed, forearms stiffen, everything coiled tight ready for a strike.  

The strike was an angry gesture at their fourth member on the far right. “So why is this hateful, racist, queer intolerant buffoon still here?!” Winter yelled into the mic. That was the moment Winter became the former heiress of the SDC.  

Fiona watch her own reaction. On-screen-Fiona tried leaning over, to look at Winter, maybe to stop her but May gave a subtle gesture to stand down.  

Now Winter looked like May. A pulsing vein at the side of her neck, jaw tense and face reddening with anger.  

Anger for Fiona and May.  

Anger at the lack of action from General Ironwood and the other instructors at the Academy.  

“We endured his unreasonable hatred for over a year. If this is Atlas’s definition of peace and perfection…” On-screen-Winter took a deep breath, returning to the calm and cool women that first took the podium. “I, Winter Schnee, will have no part of it.” She ripped the medal around her neck and threw it to the ground. May did the same and the Fiona did it too with shaking hands, her nerves and fear bare for the world to see.  

If the Academy continued to do nothing, the world would know.  

Fiona laughed and wiped her eyes. She held the Scroll close to her chest, “You two idiots… Was it worth it?” Her voice cracked as another sob broke through.  

It wasn’t.  

She could hear Winter and May arguing in the bathroom. The most promising team of Atlas Academy… cut down before graduation… General Ironwood had deemed the combat exam too dangerous for only three second years and bared them from taking their final. They had till the middle of summer to find a replacement, train, and to pass the exam.  

“It’s been four days, Winter! No one is going to partner with us after the stunt we pulled!”  

“I’m sure there’s at least one other person willing-”  

“They can’t be upperclassmen. We’ve asked every second and first year, Win.”  

“We’re not taking that asshole back. That’s final.”  

“It’s our only option.”  

“There has to be another way!” Winter yelled.  

May sighed, “Me and Fiona will be fine-”  

“Bullshit!” There were several loud crash in the bathroom. Fiona flinched under each one and when May yelped in pain Fiona bolted from her bed. Her hand hovered just out of range of the motion sensor. “I’m not watching you two cry again.”  

“We’re not Weiss!” There were several loud crashes. Fiona nearly stepping back at each one. She stood her ground, heartbreaking with each punch that thudded through the metal door and walls. “We don’t need your protection!”  

“It’s not… it’s…”  

Fiona pulled her hand back using them pressing her ears flat and back to her head. She didn’t want to hear it. It wasn’t worth it. She wasn’t worth the sacrificing their huntress careers. She survived nineteen years of racism, she should survive two more… For these stupid elites willing to throw away their status.  

The sheep Faunus took a breath for courage and waved her hand in front of the sensor before she lost it. The door to the bathroom slid open, revealing the pair of elites sprawled on the bathroom floor. Of course Winter was on top, a hand on May’s chest to pin her to the floor. Their chest was heaving from the yelling, face a little flush from their argument. Fiona didn’t blink, it was a familiar sight between two hot heads.  

“May’s right. We’ll be fine…” Then she spotted something a little off and her words trailed off. She could count the space between May and Winter’s lips with a hand, one finger. For a total of one inch.  

Either May didn’t realize how it looked or that this happened away too often in private. Winter couldn’t meet either of their eyes, but perhaps it was due to fighting May when she tried to shove her off. The Schnee didn’t budge, instead she adjusted from straddling May’s hips to sitting on her abdomen. The casual display of dominance only had the Marigold bristling, almost growling.  

“You’re crying,” Winter observed with a scowl. That seemed to snapped May out of their fight. She arched awkwardly to get a look at Fiona.  

“Why-” May started but Fiona interrupted her.  

If she wasn’t a Faunus they’d all would be moving into the third year dorms right now.  

“Stress,” Fiona said. She turned to one of the sinks and quickly rinsed her face from the tears and some snot she hoped the elites didn’t see. Through her fingers she caught Winter moving in the mirror, pulling at missing buttons and examine her uniform of any other damage. May seemed content to watch her partner preen and fix her appearance as best as possible until Winter looked down at her through long lashes and an arrogant smirk.  

“Get off, you fat ass,” May scowled.  

“In an effort to be a good teammate, leader, and reasonable adult. I’m ignoring that comment.” Winter said. She got to her feet and offered May her hand. Despite the scowl her partner took it.  

Fiona shelved her suspicions for later. She patted her face dry and looked back up at her elites. Their light glares at each other soften when Fiona caught their attention, “May’s right. We need a fourth and everyone in Atlas is too much of a coward…” Fiona gasped. In Atlas. Fiona’s ears flickered about, almost tickling herself as it brushed against her fluffy hair. She smiled up at them, “We haven’t asked around in Mantle!”  

As soon as the last word left her mouth May and Winter gave her an… interesting reaction. Disgust, contempt, reluctance, defeat. Fiona huffed and glared at the two, “The requirements was no upperclassmen. Nothing about our fourth member being a student!” She said.  

It didn’t really sway Winter’s opinion, “I doubt General Ironwood would allow it,” Winter said.  

At that May only light up, yellow eyes gleaming with mischief. She smiled back down at her, “Fiona you’re brilliant!” May laughed swooping her up and holding the sheep Faunus up high in the air. Fiona pouted back and kicked her legs. One of these days she will kick May in the balls… but not today. Today Fiona will enjoy that dumb smile and cute face. She needed it.  

Winter did too, even if she tried to act cool and indifferent. The Schnee made a show of slipping off her shirt with a sigh, “I suppose I’m out voted…” She mumbled looking at the missing buttons. Fiona only smiled. It wasn’t much of a vote when May was too eager to fuck the system. Winter dropped her shirt onto May’s head as she walked back into their dorm room. “You’re either fixing it or buying me a new one, Marigold.”  

“Whatever, ma’am,” May drawled at her, sticking out her tongue. She finally set Fiona down and grinned. “So where do we start?”  

The Police Academy was Fiona’s first thought. But after May smoothed down her designer clothes she changed her mind. “We need to get you two into something that doesn’t scream money.” Fiona said. “Something casual.”  

Winter and May glanced at each other. And May glanced at Winter’s abs and lace covered breast while the Schnee’s vision was blocked by a new top. Fiona couldn’t call her out on it because she was guilty of doing the same.  

“… This is casual,” Both the stupid elites replied.  

Fiona sighed, rubbing her temples. “Let’s just wear our uniforms. And a coat. A nice thick coat.”  

As expected the pair didn’t actually have a coat thick enough to make up for Mantle’s weak heating grid. Only after five minutes of walking around Fiona stopped them by a small store. Fiona’s suspicious rose slightly, watching Winter give May a red scarf and hot drink to help with the cold. May grumbled but still accepted the small gesture and even pressed her shoulder into Winter.  

When the Schnee finally looked away from her partner and at Fiona, the little lamb almost squeaked. “So? What now?”  

“We should start with the Police Academy. There’s a chance General Ironwood would at least recognize their training,” Fiona said.  

“Or we can split up and ask around,” May suggested. When Winter shivered a little May held out her drink for her. It was… so casual but Fiona couldn’t remember if it was a regular thing or not.  

Fiona shook her head from the distraction. “No, absolutely not,” She said crossing her arms and looking up at the totally the pair. “You two will totally get swindled or pick pocketed.”  

Winter’s lips frowned around the mouth of the hot drink. “I’m such a damsel in distress. Please protect me,” She drawled out in the most dead and flat tone Fiona has ever heard. May snorted and laugh while Fiona tried to pout but ended up giggling anyway. Winter tried to hid her own smile by taking another sip. The default scowl returned when Winter returned May’s drink to her, "I don’t need my swords for my Glyphs."  

“They can’t charge me with assault if it’s not on the cameras!” May said. Fiona and Winter frowned at her. Somehow May’s cute face and innocent smile turned the statement incredibly dark. Possible because it was a well tested statement. The Marigold huffed at their reactions, “Besides it’s not like we need the lien.”  

“… Very reassuring you two,” Fiona sighed. They could claim self-defense and get away with it but that favoritism will probably work against them in Mantle. Though dragging along an unwilling pair of elites could hurt their cause. “Let’s put it to a vote…” Fiona drawled out already knowing how it would go.  

“For splitting up,” Winter said with a raised hand.  

May actually hesitated, “… How pissed would you be if I changed my mind-”  

“Marigold!” Winter scowled. May winced under the tone and few bystanders jumped and walked away from them.  

“Too pissed to make it worth, got it.” May mumbled quickly raising her hand.  

“Alright. We meet back at the transport hub within the hour and no leaving the sector got it?” Fiona asked. May smiled and gave a thumbs up. Winter laced her hands behind her back and nodded.  

As they started walking in separate directions Fiona’s ears twitched. She could hear Winter whisper, “How do we know we’re leaving a sector?”  

“… I didn’t even know there were sectors.”  

Fiona tried not to groan and drag them along with her. The pair were adults. Huntress-in-training. They’ll be able to figure it out themselves. Even if Winter’s famous face and May’s carelessness made them targets…  

No it was a bad idea. With a small noise of complaint Fiona turned around to see a crowd of dull greys, blues, and browns. The Schnee and Marigold was gone. Fiona just hoped their tendency to stick to each other continued in Mantle.  

“Focus, Thyme!” Fiona mumbled slapping her cheeks. Now was the perfect chance to repay them for all they’ve done for her. Winter didn’t need to throw around stupid amounts of lien to get Fiona’s supplies. May didn’t need to rough up the ignorant students harassing her. She would will finally be able to help her team. Fiona’s ears perked up with renewed energy and she marched down the street to her first destination, “Police Academy.”  

It was almost comforting to be in a place with so much rules and structure. The Police Academy was the former Huntress Academy before the Great War, so there were many similarities. The biggest difference was due to the lack of funding. They didn’t have hard-light lamps and banners decorating the walls but at least there were no visible signs of age.  

Many students just passed by Fiona, apologizing because their finals were approaching and had no time. The few that did stop to talk to her held themselves very similar to Atlas Academy standards.  

“For how much lien?” They’d ask again and again.  

“… None,” Fiona was nearly speechless every time, “I’m from Mantle, I get how hard is it. But if you could help spread the word that would be much appreciated.” The police students wished her luck and took her number to share with friends. As the minutes ticked closer to an hour, Fiona’s ears started falling lower and lower.  

But the last one… Maybe she should have dragged Winter and May with her.  

"You expect strangers to risk their lives for over a publicity stunt gone wrong? For free?" The police student asked, towering over her with their arms crossed.  

Fiona felt a snarl flinched onto her face before she could stop it. The student was only mildly surprised but did flinch at Fiona’s yell, “Publicity stunt?!”  

"You have two of the biggest family rivals on a team with you. A Faunus," the student said. Fiona could feel her heart beating so hard in her chest it shook her body. “How about a cut of how much they’re paying to make them look good? Must be a lot of lien if your still in Atlas-”  

Fiona turned. She kicked open the doors and stormed down the steps in a haze. Is… is that what everyone thought she was… Thought of Winter and May?!  

“Aaggh!” Fiona nearly pulled out her hair as she walked out of the gates. Then she was looking at her reflection in the screen of her Scroll. She wanted to call them, tell them about the rumors in Mantle but… knowing May, the women would run down here and beat up the student.  

They… They didn’t deserve that. Fiona dropped her face into her Scroll with a sigh. Fiona did think the same thing when she first met May. The rich girl who tried a little too hard to be nice to the point it was a little awkward.  

Another rich snob wanting to look good.  

Then May punched their expelled teammate in the face. The pair was very secretive so Fiona had to piece it together with cryptic clues and maybe someone forgot to lock the door to the bathroom. May was just happy to be herself. Fiona wasn’t worried about the Schnee pretending to be fake for bonus points. It took a few months to figure it out but the way she acted towards May and gradually Fiona herself… Winter wasn’t nice in the conventional way. Eventually the Faunus learned the Schnee just… didn’t know how to be warm. Even her smiles towards May was guarded.  

Fiona felt tears pricking her eyes again. Her hopes were as burnt as the smoke the factories put out. Winter, May. Those… idiots! If only they didn’t come from rich cold families, if only everyone wasn’t a shallow, mindless follower… “Why can’t things be easy for once in my life!” Fiona kicked a small rock, trying to calm down. She watched it bounce around until it hit a dog’s nose. It yelped in surprise and the owner jumped a little too.  

“Oh no! I’m so sorry!” She instinctively reached out for the dog but pulled her hand back to double check with the owner. She looked up… and up. A giant woman with green hair only smiled kindly down at her.  

“It happens… well no. That’s a first but don’t worry about it,” She said with a laugh. “Lil’ Tank will probably forgive you with a few pets and kisses.” Fiona tried not to pout and huff. Little for her… If Fiona knelt down that would make the fully grown Akbash taller than her. So she only bent over and pet their head.  

“I’m sorry Tank. I’m just having a bad day,” Fiona mumbled. The dog seemed to understand because they licked her hand in a possibly comforting gesture.  

“Or month. I doubt things were easy after your leader’s outburst.”  

Fiona’s eyes darted back up and up to a kind and awkward smile. Slowly Fiona could feel her face heat up, ears twitching as she remembered the recording she watched earlier. Winter was constantly stopped and recognized around Atlas but they always ignored Fiona.  

She was really wishing she brought her elites right about now. The panic must have been pretty obvious on Fiona’s face because the giant women stepped back a little and seemed to shrink on herself.  

“Sorry! It must be really weird…” The stranger mumbled, scratching the back of her head. Fiona nodded a little. How did Winter deal with it? “I’m uh, I’m Joanna Greenleaf,” the giant said with a hand out stretched.  

“Fiona Thyme- But, you already knew that.” Fiona mumbled ears flinching down. Joanna’s smile calmed her nerves enough for Fiona to actually shake her hand.  

“So, Ms. Thyme, what brings you back to Mantle?”  

Fiona looked up, charred hope flicking back into embers. She carefully looked at Joanna. Tall, from the way her coat stretched across her shoulders and biceps she was rather built. If she’s from Mantle meaning she most likely knew how to defend herself and possibly knew how to use a firearm. She didn’t look like a civilian but Fiona didn’t exactly look like a huntress-in-training. Even in uniform.  

And she nearly decked out a stranger for pre-judging people.  

Fiona took a breath. The worst that could happen is that Joanna bad mouths her teammates, Fiona defends their honor, gets locked up for assaulting a civilian, and Winter pays bail.  

“I’m looking for a substitute so me and my team can take Atlas’ combative final.”  

Joanna looked a little surprise, eyes brows slowly raising. The thought rolled around in her head enough for them to miss the light to walk across the street.  

“I… I think it’ll be better if you find someone much more confident than me.” Joanna said. When Fiona started deflating the women spoke quickly, “B-But I think I know a person who’s willing to do it! Robyn Hill, my roommate!”  

Fiona’s ears perked up again, wiggling around happily as a smile grew on her face. Joanna laughed ruffling Tank’s head, “Would you like to meet her? I think her shift at the Gym ends soon.”  

“Yes, please!” Fiona said with a small bounce. She followed Joanna across the street, small strides doubled to keep up with Joanna’s longer ones. She pulled out her Scroll and sent a quick group text to meet up at the address.  

The pair of elites were usually prompt with replies. Family upbringing emphasized good impersonal communication. She was a little worried when it took nearly the entire walk for May to reply.  

lionflower: give us a minute lionflower: or ten  

Fiona frowned. Her steps slowed and so did Joanna’s.  

happywool: ??? why??? lionflower: running. explain later happwool: okay… @angeldust you okay? angeldust: lmao  

Winter did not use abbreviations. Fiona stopped and stared at her Scroll… If it wasn’t May it could only mean it was a stranger. If a stranger got a hold of Winter’s phone in Mantle that only meant she was pick pocketed.  

“Ugh! I know I shouldn’t have let those rich idiots out of my sight!” Fiona scowled. Out of everything that could have been stolen, it has to be the Schnee’s Scroll. An apparently unlocked Schnee Scroll.  

“Uh… is there a problem?” Joanna asked.  

“My idiot teammates got pick pocketed and the angry one is texting the thief,” Fiona explained. She angled the phone up so Joanna could read it.  

lionflower: WHERE ARE U?! angeldust: u and the white one ran past me like 5 times :p lionflower: when i get my HANDS ON U IMMA THROTTLE U angeldust: kinky <3 angeldust: i think ill use this username as a safeword  

Joanna threw her head back and laughed. “Seems pretty friendly for a thief. Have you tried asking for it back?”  

Fiona frowned and stared at Joanna for a real suggestion. When the giant and her dog raised a brow Fiona sighed and looked at her Scroll.  

happywool: can you please return the Scroll angeldust: hhmmm. Tell the cute blue one to stop screaming and the white one to drop a few lien here  

There was a picture with the message, taken from the rooftops and zoomed in to show May, red in the face and hunched over her Scroll. Winter was standing at her side, eyes scanning the crowd for the thief and posed to run after them. An arrow was drawn to an alley on the opposite side of the camera.  

Lionflower: CHEATER Angeldust: :p Lionflower: Fine. We’ll be at your location soon Fiona. -Winter  

Fiona tried not to laugh. It was rather obvious who it was from the grammar alone. The sheep Faunus nearly screamed when a heavy hand patted her shoulder. She looked up at Joanna who gave a thumbs up. Fiona… may have forgotten she was following her to meet a potential fourth member.  

“See? Asking nicely works wonders,” Joanna said.  

“I think my teammates were extorted,” Fiona mumbled following the giant women and her giant dog again.  

Joanna shrugged, “The information on that Scroll is probably worth a lot more than pocket change.” Fiona nodded but couldn’t help the frown on her face.  

A thief got hands on a Schnee’s Scroll and just… hand it over? It couldn’t be that easy. There had to be a trick but- Ugh. Fiona ruffled her curly hair. Focus on the current problem! Substitute teammate. May and Winter were adults who should have listened to her! They can deal with it- are dealing with it!  

Joanna cleared her throat. Fiona blushed, remembering she was in the middle of a busy Mantle street and shoved her hands into her pocket.  

“So… Which one is the angry one?” Joanna asked. “May or Winter?”  

“To be honest… they’re both pretty hot headed,” Fiona admitted. She winced, “But at least Winter thinks first, usually,” She added the last part after remembering Winter’s speech. “You think that’d be a deal breaker with your friend?”  

“Robyn is… I think they’ll get along.” Joanna winced at her own words, “Eventually? Robyn can’t be worse with what you’ve already dealt with.” Fiona frowned and glanced at her Scroll.  

angeldust: Scroll received. No sign of target. Moving to next location.  

Fiona already decided to deal with the racism if it meant May and Winter they still had a chance of passing their finals.  

May and Winter would physically disagree.  

The Gym was… a retrofitted speakeasy or just a very large basement. Paper targets were hanging along the back wall and donated chairs and tables were scattered closer to the counter and stage. Fiona ran up to her teammates loitering by the entrance.  

May’s chest was heaving, face a little flush from her run. Winter was a little out of breath but double checking everything on her Scroll. From her rather calm and a little shocked expression, everything seemed to be untouched.  

“So… does the princess still need protecting?” Fiona said with a rare smirk aimed up at Winter. May snorted, too tired to hide the laugh while Winter only stared down at her. A little too tired to play angry but still not sure how to laugh.  

Joanna wandered to the bar, handing Tank’s leash to another person in exchange for a handful of lien. Then she exchanged a few words with the platinum blond barista with a gesture towards Fiona and her teammates.  

Fiona quickly averted her eyes, hoping her staring wasn’t too obvious. She looked up at Winter and tilted her head, “Everything good?”  

“To my knowledge, yes,” Winter said with a frown. “The thief only had a few minutes with my phone, not enough time to bypass the security checks for more sensitive information.”  

“That’s good,” Fiona said. She bit her lip a little scared to ask the next question. “How much lien did you lose?”  

Winter gave a rare and extremely small smile. “Me? None. My father’s company on the other hand…”  

Fiona sighed. She really wish these rich girls were a little more careful. But hopefully the thief wouldn’t need to steal, at least for a little while.  

“Fiona! Uh… Ms. Marigold. Schnee, ma’am…” Joanna mumbled. Fiona gave the large women a smile. It was awkwardly adorable how she tried to shrink herself. She didn’t seem to know how to act with the Atlas elites. Instead she stepped behind the barista.  

Fiona stepped in front, trying to smooth things over for the gentle giant. May and Winter could be rather intimidating alone but it seemed to triple when the pair was together. “Everyone, meet Joanna Greenleaf and Robyn Hill?” Fiona asked.  

“Correct, lambchop,” The barista with violet eyes and two moles smiled.  

Fiona blinked at the nickname. It wasn’t said with malice but after all the harassment any animal puns stung a little. Fiona could deal with it, her teammates on the other hand… Fiona quickly looked at Winter and May. The overprotective idiots shifted, just half a step in front of Fiona with vicious scowls up at the women.  

Joanna groaned, elbowing Robyn a little hard. Robyn only shrugged it off and tried to diffuse it with a smile, “What? It’s a compliment, she looks cute enough to eat.”  

Now May took a full stepped forward. Fiona tried to grab her and had to push Winter away to do so. May stopped her advance but Fiona could feel the light shiver of rage.  

“Was that supposed to be a pick up line?” May asked. Voice sharp and pointed like the rapiers Winter wields.  

Robyn crossed her arms, that easy but arrogant smile finally dropping, “I’m gonna have to say no. My pickup lines usually work.”  

“Robyn…” Joanna hissed under her breath, “You recognize them don’t you? The team that got their fourth member expelled after winning the tournament?”  

“Of course I do!” Robyn waved off Joanna’s concern again. That easy and arrogant smile returned. It fanned Winter and May’s anger a little more. “What they don’t realize is they’re looking for their only option.”  

“An entire city full of people and you’re the only option?” Winter said with a scoff. Somehow the Schnee manage to look down at the taller women, something about the power and confidence she had made her seem bigger. “I’d rather have someone smart enough to know the difference between confidence and foolishness.”  

“How about someone humble enough to apologize and to admit their wrong?” Robyn quickly said.  

“An apology doesn’t matter if we don’t give a shit about what you think,” May quickly stepped in again. The first line of define like always. Fiona sighed and shoved her way to the front, physically pushing back her elites. “Fiona! This bitch-”  

“Ouch. Names, liontail.”  

“You’re not helping!” Joanna and Fiona scolded. Robyn flinched a little but did relent and step back to deescalate the situation. Fiona pushed her teammates back a little more for good measure. “She’s right,” Fiona said.  

“We only spent an hour asking around,” Winter argued. She then closed her eyes, trying to hide a sliver of shame and embarrassment. “Admittedly… some of those minutes were spent chasing a thief around…”  

“And we’re gonna have to spend a few days to convince Ironwood to give a civilian a pass,” Fiona gently argued. “Ignorance and bad habits doesn’t make someone a bad person.”  

At that the tension finally melted from Winter and May. The rich girls grumbled and fumed. “Only a fool would limit their options,” Winter pressed again.  

“Alright, we’ll spend a few more hours looking around but we need to find someone so we can start training.” Fiona said. It took a few seconds for the hot heads to see reason but they eventually gave in and nodded. Fiona and her teammates walked up to Robyn and Joanna.  

“We’re keeping our options open. We’ll give you two a call if we need to ask you a few questions,” Fiona said.  

Joanna looked a little panicked. “But I said I’m not-”  

Robyn clapped her hand on Joanna’s back, “Give yourself more credit, Jo! You’re just as skilled as I am.”  

“Hopefully it’s enough,” May grumbled under her breath. “We just need you to pass. Other students will probably want to fill in the fourth spot once this entire thing blows over.”  

“Ideally,” Winter agreed quietly.  

A tense stare down passed between the three. For a Mantle Rat against two Atlas Elites, Robyn didn’t budge. She held her chin high and matched their arrogant glares.  

“Do all Atlesians suck at making friends?” Robyn quipped.  

Before May or Winter could respond Fiona started pushing them to the entrance. May grumbled and fumed, Winter simmered in silence. Under the loud the bustling city, Fiona barely heard Joanna scold her roommate.  

“This is your best shot at getting into Atlas Academy! It’s literally handed to you on a platter Robyn.”  

“I know but it’s never this easy!”  

“We’re from Mantle. It’s never easy.”  

Fiona frowned staring at the backs of Winter and May. She dealt with their arrogant ass for two years and ended up loving them. Having a Mantle version of the two might be nice… or it might drive her crazy.

#happy huntresses #fiona thyme #robyn hill #springthyme #winter schnee #may marigold #joanna greenleaf #hellbore #may x winter #robyn x fiona #winter x may #fiona x robyn #Show Your Teeth #writing #FRSM #fic #very seasoned huntresses

[im-the-king-of-the-ocean]

In the Name of Love

@nuts-and-dolts-week Day 6: Angst

(actually semi-canon compliant for once)

.

Fifteen minutes into their silent advance into the crater tunnel, May whispers, “They’re just up ahead.”

Robyn nods.  “Her sensors will probably pick up on our presence before we see her.  We need to be careful.  May and I will go first, with our weapons sheathed.  Fiona, Joanna, linger back, but stay ready.  Penny’s a friend, so it shouldn’t come to a fight, but just in case it does…” she lets her statement go unfinished.

Penny Polendina isn’t someone Robyn wants to fight.  Even after the massacre at the failed victory party, when it seemed like Penny was responsible for all the deaths, Robyn hadn’t completely considered the mechanical girl an enemy.  She found it hard to believe Penny would do such a thing.  On her own, at least.  A direct, inescapable order from Ironwood seemed more likely at the time, and then Robyn was more of the mind to go about freeing Penny from the general’s authority than deactivating her completely.

Finding out someone else entirely was responsible for the attack hadn’t come as a total surprise.

This is different.  Though, if Robyn’s being honest, she’s not exactly sure what this is.  Reports of an incoming giant Grimm whale surrounded by hordes of flying beringels led to chaos in Atlas, which granted her the opportunity to escape custody.  She regrouped with her huntresses and start getting those left—abandoned—in Mantle to safety.  A freak snowstorm gave them enough cover to run for the crater mine caverns.  Caverns that are far from ideal as a hiding spot, but the people of Mantle know, and can navigate, them far better than the Grimm, so they are their best hope.

Things settled in the quiet, tense way they do right before a siege truly sets in, and then everyone’s scrolls lit up with a warrant for Penny Polendina’s immediate arrest.  Not a minute after that, May rushed to inform Robyn that she’d found Penny while scouting tunnels and Penny attacked her.

Aggression is definitely not normal for Penny.  Robyn knows something had to have happened to cause the abrupt change in character (and that something is likely related to the arrest warrant).  She hates not knowing what it is.  Again, Penny isn’t someone Robyn wants to fight.  She will if it comes to that.  But, mostly, Robyn just wishes she had enough information to prevent the outcome.

The shiiing of numerous blades unfolding right before she and May round the last bend makes Robyn grimace.  She readies her weapon, but keeps it lowered.

“Penny, it’s Robyn Hill,” Robyn announces her presence.  “We mean you no harm.”  She walks around the corner to put herself in full view.  She holds her hands up, palms open wide.

“Where are the others?”  Penny’s voice doesn’t have it’s usual cheer.  It doesn’t quite make it to ‘threatening’ either, but it comes extremely close.

“Penny.”  Robyn slowly advances.  “You know us.”

“Not another step!”  Penny snaps.  Fire sparks from nowhere and engulfs Floating Array’s swords. Robyn blinks, unbelieving of what she’s seeing, but, yes, the swords are now on fire and green flames surround Penny’s eyes as well.  “I need you, all of you, to identify yourselves.  Verbally.  Now.”  Penny commands.

“Okay,” Robyn agrees, trying to stay amicable.  She signals to May.

May crosses her arms, but states, “May Marigold,” anyway, which seems to satisfy Penny.

“Joanna, Fiona,” Robyn calls back to the others.  The two join her and May.  Fiona speaks her name first, and then Joanna does.

Only after Penny has heard all four of them speak does she relax.  The flames disappear from around Floating Array and her eyes.  She keeps her swords out and at the ready.  Robyn decides to consider it progress anyway.

“We did what you wanted, Penny.  Now, help us understand.  What’s going on here?”  Robyn asks gently.

“I…” Penny looks away from her.  Her eyes turned downcast.  “I can’t…”

“You don’t have to be scared.”  Fiona steps forward.  “I think everyone here is, at least a little bit, of the situation on the surface.“  Joanna snorts at her statement, but Fiona ignores her.  “But we’re not alone either.  Trust us, we can help you.”

Penny gazes at Fiona, and then back at Robyn.  “You promise?  You promise you’ll help me?”

“It depends on what it is,” Robyn replies evenly.  “If you need shelter, we’ll ask that you pitch in just as much as everyone else, but you’re welcome with us.  If you’re going to ask us to turn ourselves in to Ironwood, that’s a hard ‘no’.”

“Oh no!  Nothing like that!  At all!  I just need medical supplies!” Penny says in a rush.

“Medical supplies?  But aren’t you…” Joanna searches for the right words, doesn’t find a polite way to say it, and just goes for blunt, “…a robot?”

“Well, yes, but they aren’t for me.”  Penny’s eyes dart to a corner of the cavern, where three boulders rest in an unusually strategic position, almost as if someone had placed them there to block something from view.  She notices the huntresses following her gaze, and quickly steps to block their view of the boulders.  “A friend of mine needs them!  And I said I would go out and search and bring back what I could find!  So, if you could give me what I need, I can go back to my friend!  Who is not here!”  She hiccups.

Robyn frowns.  “Right.  Penny, if you want our help, you’re going to have to be completely honest with us.”  She steps forward and holds out her hand.  “So, tell me, you’re not hiding anything behind those boulders?”

Penny steps back.  “I…” she looks between all four of them again and gulps.  “I want to trust you, but…but you have to promise you won’t hurt her!  Promise me!  Promise me, right now!”

Robyn advances, reaches over and takes Penny’s hand in her own, activates her semblance, and states, “We will not harm whoever you’re protecting.”  Their hands light up green.  “Okay?”

“Okay,” Penny stares at their hands a long moment.  Then, she pulls out of Robyn’s grasp and leads her back to the boulders.

Robyn recognizes the pipsqueak before Penny says the name ‘Ruby’.  Ruby is wrapped in makeshift bandages that are already starting to bleed through.  She’s not conscious, but her breathing is steady.  That’s good, at least.  What’s not is the fact it looked like someone tried very hard to slash her eyes out.  Whoever it was failed, but not before leaving Ruby with quite a few cuts that’ll leave some nasty scars.

“We need to get her to camp.”  Robyn finishes her assessment.  “Our medics can—“

“No!”  Penny shouts.  She freezes, realizing she just yelled at the person trying to help her.  “I—you can’t!  The one who—Neo Politan can change to look like other people!  She…” Penny hesitates, and then continues in a quieter tone, “She can look like anyone.  Anyone.  The only way to know for sure is that she never speaks.  She’ll…” Penny hugs herself.  “Ruby isn’t safe anywhere Neo can get to.  I have to keep her away from other people. That’s the only way to stop Neo from finding her and finishing…”  Her lower lip trembles.  “Do you understand?  Please?”

Robyn puts a hand on Penny’s shoulder.  “I understand, but your friend needs more help than we can give her here.  I know you’re scared, and that you think staying alone is the answer.  It isn’t.  It just means you have no backup when things go bad.  Trust me.  We’ll be discrete.  May?”  Robyn looks back to her.

May nods and comes forward.

“Joanna.  Fiona.”  Robyn addresses her other two huntresses.  “Go back ahead of us.  Find a doctor you trust and bring them to my tent.  Tell them to prepare for a patient.”  Robyn turns back to Penny.  “We’ll keep you, both of you, concealed until you’re ready.  No one will know you’ve joined us.  Alright?”

Penny hesitates.  She looks down at Ruby, and then back up at Robyn.  Finally, she nods.  Her eyes light up with green fire again.  For a second, Robyn thinks she’s going to attack and braces herself.  Penny doesn’t.  She turns, closes her eyes in focus, and the earth surrounding Ruby rises into the air as a makeshift bed.

“We’re ready to go,” Penny tells Robyn.  The earth holding Ruby follows her hand as it moves.

After she’s activated her semblance to conceal them as they travel, May whispers to Robyn, “That’s a new trick, right?  She wasn’t able to do that before?”

.

The doctor finishes his preliminary examination of Ruby.  “The girl’s wounds aren’t good, but not life threatening if we act now.”  He rights himself, and nearly trips over Penny, who’s hovering by his elbow and peering over his shoulder to watch everything he’s doing.  “Although it would be easier to work if I had some space.”  He exhales and tells Penny, “I know you’re worried, but I assure you she’ll be fine.  If you allow me to do my job uninhibited.”

“Come on, Penny.”  Robyn puts a hand on Penny’s back and guides her towards the back exit of the tent.  “I’ll wait outside with you.”

Penny takes one last worried look at Ruby, hesitates, but doesn’t protest.  She follows Robyn out of the tent.  They sit in awkward silence.  Penny jerks up every other minute, depending on sounds coming from inside the tent.  Robyn ends up keeping a hand on her shoulder to keep her from rushing back inside.

“So,” Robyn begins.  “That stuff you did earlier, with the fire and the earth, that’s a neat trick.”

Penny stares down at her hands.  “It’s magic.  I…it’s hard to explain.”

“Well, we do have time.”  Robyn offers a reassuring smile, which doesn’t seem to do the job it was intended for.

Penny seems to consider her options in her head, and then tells Robyn, “There are maidens, one for each season, who were once given enormous magical power.  When one dies, the magic gets passed on to a successor.  The Winter Maiden, her name was Fria.  I was with her when…when she passed.”  Penny holds up a hand and summons a flurry of snowflakes out of nowhere.  “So, I have the magic now.”  Her eyes turn downcast.  “I wasn’t supposed to.  None of this was…” she trails off.

Robyn prods gently, “I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but, if you could tell me what happened?  If there’s an attack coming, I need to know what to prepare for.”  

For a long moment, Penny doesn’t reply.  Then, “General Ironwood…”  Penny wraps her arms around herself.  “He…he made a deal.  With Salem.”  She squeezes her eyes shut.  “Silver-eyed people have a special power against the Grimm, so Salem wants them destroyed.”

Robyn has an idea where this is going, but she waits for Penny to say it anyway.

“Ironwood’s plan was to use the staff to raise Atlas, but he needed…”  the next word, ‘me’, comes out so quietly Robyn isn’t sure she heard it at all.  “…but I…I wasn’t there.  I…” Penny inhales a large breath.  “He ordered his ships to chase us and shoot us down.  My father was…injured.  In the crash.  Ruby, she tried to protect me.  There was too many of them.  We were captured.”  Penny starts to tremble.  “But Salem was already here.  Ironwood was out of time.”  She balls her hands into fists.  “So, he made a deal.  He…he would hand over Ruby to her, if she gave him an extra hour.  Salem agreed.”  Penny presses her forehead against her knees.

Robyn wraps an arm around Penny’s shoulders and squeezes her gently.

“Neo came for Ruby,” Penny goes on.  “Instead of taking her, Neo tried to kill her.  I intervened.  I couldn’t just let her…” Penny chokes up.  “I called a snowstorm and got us out of there.  I didn’t know where to go, so I hid.”  She whimpers.  “It’s all my fault.”

“Penny,” Robyn starts slowly.  “No.  None of this is your fault.”

“But, I—“

“It’s Ironwood’s.  He decided to abandon Mantle.  He decided to sacrifice Ruby.  Not you.  You did the right thing.  You saved her.”

“I’m the reason she’s hurt!”  Penny protests.  “If I had just followed orders,  if she hadn’t tried to protect me, if I…if we…” her voice goes quiet.  “Neo chose me.  When she attacked Ruby.  She chose to look like me.  Ruby—my death was hard for her.  She mourned me.  She didn’t know.  How could she?  She couldn’t…Ruby wouldn’t…even if it was Neo just using my face.”  Penny stops and looks at Robyn.  “I’m the reason Ruby is hurt,” she repeats.

“You’re also the reason she’s alive,” Robyn gently reminds her.

They fall into silence.

After some time, the doctor emerges from the tent.  “I’ve done all I can for now,” he announces.  “She’s resting now and will likely sleep for the next few—“  Penny rushes into the tent before the doctor can finish the word ‘hours’.  He huffs.  “Do keep an eye on them,” he grumbles to Robyn before leaving.

.

Tentatively, Penny approaches Ruby’s bedside.  She hesitates, and then places her hand overtop Ruby’s.  “I’m sorry.  For everything,” she whispers.

“Don’t be.”  Ruby’s eyes flutter open.  Her gaze is weary.  She’ll likely fall asleep again in the next few minutes, but, for now, she’s awake.  “You mean so much to me, Penny.  You have no idea.  I lov…” Ruby’s eyes drift closed again.

Penny kisses Ruby’s forehead.  She murmurs, “I love you too.”  She curls up in a makeshift seat that’s been placed by the cot and settles in.

There is much yet that has to be done.  Atlas and Mantle need to be saved.  Penny and Ruby need to find and reunite with their friends.  What will perhaps be one of the biggest fights of their lives is still ahead of them.

For now, though, they will rest with the relative safety of knowing that the other one will be there when they wake up.

#rwby #nuts and dolts #ruby rose #penny polendina #robyn hill #nuts and dolts week #whirls writing

[lana-b-bana]

Dinner & Diatribes (Part 1)

Summary: Cordelia arrives at Outpost 3 to take care of some loose ends, but during that time, she finds herself attracted to Ms. Wilhemina Venable. However, Wilhemina doesn’t seem to return her feelings—she detests Cordelia, in fact. They try to go their separate ways, but a fateful evening encounter leaves them both wanting more.

A/N: I have not watched Season 8, so I messed around with the plot! All the witches are alive in this (besides the witches Michael brought back). Also, thanks to the wonderful @shineestark for clarifying the plot and for motivating me! There is some smut in this, so be warned! I’m just here spreading the #LetWilheminaBottom Gospel! Anyway, this is just my chance for me to write some enemies-to-lovers, so enjoy !

---

“More than anything I was relieved that in my unfamiliar babbling-and-wanting-to-talk state I'd stopped myself from blurting the thing I'd never said, even though it was something we both knew well enough without me saying out loud to him in the street - which was, of course, I love you.” — The Goldfinch, Donna Tartt.

---

It was a shame men were so egotistic, Cordelia mused as she transmuted herself back to the Outpost she had gotten so accustomed to. If the Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men hadn’t insisted on Michael taking the test of the Seven Wonders—if Michael didn’t even exist—things would’ve been so much easier. Now here she was, ready to administer the test to a boy with a beautiful smile but threatening eyes who could possibly be the first male Supreme. 

The Supreme. 

The title brings no joy. Instead of a certain dark relish that was familiar to her mother, all Cordelia feels is a quiet bind to duty. She has to be the flawless figurehead of the coven; any other choice would bring shame to her girls, not to mention herself. 

Now, seeing what the Supremacy has given her (nothing but death), there was no reason to celebrate such a vain title without acknowledging the end of the road. But death is nothing to be scared of. Not anymore. 

Death, duty, and a fierce love for her girls makes the Supremecy worth it. After the war has ended, and the dust has settled, what is left for her? 

Enough of that. Cordelia straightens her shoulders as she strides into a room where Michael and his mentors wait. Cordelia is flanked by Myrtle and Zoe, but God, if she doesn’t feel alone at this moment. “Are we ready to begin, gentlemen?”

“Why, of course.” Michael smiles at her. Chills creep up her spine. “Shall I pick up any more of your friends?”

Cordelia ignores his not-so-subtle jab about her failures. “Whenever you’re ready.” In another world, there would be no need for him to even ask such a question, but then again, she wouldn’t be the Supreme. Her heart clenches again—pain is all she seems to feel lately—but the sound of a door banging open drags her out of her thoughts.

“What is the meaning of this?” Cordelia should have been accustomed to the shock of seeing an eyeful of purple, yet she still smirks when Wilhemina catches everyone’s attention. “I asked a question, and I demand an answer.” 

Cordelia doesn’t have eyes in the back of her head, but she can practically see the warlocks exchange glances. And of course, it falls on her to be the bearer of bad news. “May I speak to you outside, Miss Venable?”

She sniffs before leading the way out of the room. “You may.” 

Outside, a couple of greys are milling around, but with a pointed glare, Wilhemina sends them scrambling away. Cordelia can’t help but be impressed by the effectiveness of Wilhemina’s methods to rule, even though they are vastly different from hers. But opposites attract, do they not?

“Must I ask again? I would hate to think you have the same lowly behaviorisms as the rest of the imbeciles in the room, but then again, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Cordelia arches her eyebrow, not sure if she was amused by her sharp tongue, or irritated because of her rudeness. Both, perhaps. A mixture of both. “My apologies for intruding on your territory, Miss Venable, but there is a test I need to administrate to Mr. Langdon. It is convenient for everyone to gather here.” 

Wilhemina’s lips press together. “Yes, how convenient to give me no explanation of how you got here and to leave me out of the loop. One might think you teleported here, but that is impossible, of course.”

It takes all of Cordelia’s self-control not to smile.

Perhaps Wilhemina notices this, for she takes a step closer and glowers at Cordelia. All she does in response is allow part of a smirk onto her face, purposefully stepping into Wilhemina’s personal space. The other woman makes no attempt to move away, but her hands tighten around the head of her cane. Wilhemina is the taller of the two (but they are quite similar in height) and when she leans down, Cordelia has to stop herself from staring at the strong flex of her neck, the gentle curve into her jawline. 

“If you cause any trouble, I will not hesitate to toss you out into the radiation myself. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” Cordelia smirks fully this time, noting that it only serves to enrage Wilhemina more.

They are close enough to kiss. 

That thought makes something, something flare in Cordelia’s eyes, perhaps a dark pleasure, but whatever it is, it forces Wilhemina to swallow and turn on her heel. 

“Good evening, Miss Venable!” Cordelia can’t help but call after her. No response follows. She stares at Wilhemina’s retreating back, feeling the tension between them simmer and hover before quietly wilting away, just waiting for another chance to be rekindled again. Caution should be used, but still ... how fun.

---

A week ago, Michael passed the test of Seven Wonders. Cordelia has spent much of that time in her guest chambers, where the bed is too springy and the room is too cold for her liking. Still, anything is better than walking into the warlocks’ smug faces and the little taunts from Michael. It’s hard to believe he’s the next Supreme—not because she wants to keep her power, but because there is something off about him. 

Cordelia spends most of her time with her Council, planning, or arguing rather, over their next moves. Myrtle is the strongest voice against letting Michael be the Supreme. “Oh, little bird, I’m sure he has evil down to his little toe! We can’t let him be the next Supreme; we’ll all die!”

Surprisingly, Mallory had agreed with Myrtle. Actually, everyone else except Cordelia had firmly said that Michael was not fit to rule. She had shaken her head and mentioned Fiona, how she would rather die than end up like her. That had quieted them before her girls shuffled out the room. “I do hope you know what you’re doing,” was all Myrtle said before left. 

Honestly? She had no idea.

A growl from her stomach makes Cordelia realize it’s time for dinner. She couldn’t stay hibernated in her room forever, and she has to face Michael at some point. With a deep exhale, she squares her shoulders and heads to the dining hall. It is her duty, after all.

Cordelia is the last to arrive by the looks of the taken seats and the weight of many eyes swiveling to her. She simply nods and smiles which stiffens slightly when she sees the only available seat. The seat at the head of the table, on Wilhemina’s left. Fantastic.

Wilhemina looks bored with the whispers that follow Cordelia and her coven, but when she approaches her, a glint shines in her eyes. “Good evening, Miss Goode. I see you’re finally ready to come out of hiding.”

Cordelia keeps her smile polite as she sits down, her arm barely brushing with Wilhemina’s. “And I see your vision isn’t entirely clear. What a shame, I was quite looking forward to getting to know you, but I presume you can’t tell me much about my appearance, hmm?”

It’s a low blow to toss Wilhemina’s ignorance right back in her face, but judging by the way she gripped her fork, it certainly works. Or, it partly did. “What I can tell you about your deceiving appearance is that you are a crooked enigma, an entitled, arrogant, rude, high-and-mighty failure as a leader with the worst fashion sense and hairdo I have ever seen!” She hisses the words out, and there is no amusement in them. Just pure anger.

For a moment, Cordelia opens her mouth, ready to start a full-out brawl. There is white-hot anger simmering in her veins at the job to her leadership, something she always prided herself on. She would die for her coven, her girls at the drop of a word. Yes, she led them to the end of the world, but god damn if she wasn’t going to get them out of it. 

Cordelia manages to smirk, tempering down her anger with a comment she knew would frustrate Wilhemina even more. “I could say—and I do see—the same for you, Miss Venable.” 

The pits of Wilhemina’s eyes are black, blazing like coals. A shiver rises up in Cordelia, but before she can move, Wilhemina bangs her cane on the ground and stands up in one fluid motion, looking down on Cordelia. Literally. “Miss Goode, I want you outside. Now.”

“Well, since you asked so politely.” Sarcasm colours Cordelia’s voice as she tries to ignore the chills running through her body at Wilhemina’s strict tone. Just when she thinks she has her all figured out, Cordelia always manages to be surprised. Perhaps that’s part of dear Wilhemina’s charm.

She doesn’t have time to ponder her sudden familiarity, as Wilhemina turns and take a long stride toward Cordelia when they are in a private hallway. The furious look is back in her eyes, and she pushes a finger into Cordelia’s shoulder. “You! You are such a pest in my outpost! Everywhere I turn, you are there, whispering and planning. Tell me, what are you planning? I know it involves the men”—she says this in such a disgusted tone—“but any ideas fail me! Tell me, or I’ll toss you outside right this instant!” 

Her voice is low, but it quickly becomes louder and sharper as she progresses with her rant. Cordelia feels bad for Wilhemina, she really does, but she can’t say anything that would make sense. Supremes, magic, and teleportation. All things a lunatic would say.

“Well?” Wilhemina thumps her cane, glaring at Cordelia. “Are you going to answer me, Miss Goode?”

“No. I won’t.” Cordelia lifts her chin, wanting to savor the sweet taste of defiance, and instead running various excuses through her mind. How could she get out of this problem now?

Wilhemina growls and this is it, this is the moment that Cordelia will have to use her magic or restrain her, except—

Wilhemina presses their lips together, capturing Cordelia’s bottom lip into her mouth a moment later. It takes a hard bite for Cordelia to kiss back, teeth clashing together in the midst of their furious battle. She manages to back Wilhemina up until she’s against the wall, and even though her mind is clouded with lust, she keeps her hands behind Wilhemina’s back so she doesn’t slam into the cold wall. 

She flinches at Cordelia’s wandering hands and breaks apart to put her hands on Cordelia’s shoulders. She thinks Wilhemina is going to push her away, but she pulls closer until their bodies are pressed together, not even a sliver of an inch left. 

“Take my jacket off,” Wilhemina mumbles in between kisses. Cordelia manages to bring her half-lidded eyes up to Wilhemina, questioning without words. Are you sure?

“Well, are you going to make yourself useful for once, or I will have to do it?” Her arrogant tone is back, and Cordelia tugs sharply at her neat jacket until the buttons are spilling off, rolling away on the floor. 

“That was my favourite jacket, you idiot—”

“Shut up.” This, Cordelia hisses out as a desire to leave Wilhemina wordless, gasping for words consumes her. She doesn’t bother to remove her belt—only shoves it up—and sticks a hand down her skirt, into her underwear. 

They both gasp at how wet Wilhemina is. “Christ, Wilhemina, you’re practically dripping.” A bit of pride enters Cordelia’s voice, enough for her to almost forget that she’s just as aroused as Wilhemina. 

“Did I—” She let outs a gasp when Cordelia ever-so-slowly inserts her pointer finger inside her. Already, Wilhemina is clenching around her finger, and Cordelia lowly chuckles, lowering her mouth to her neck. “Did you say something, darlin’?”

“Did I ... give you permission to address me by my first name?” Wilhemina shakily exhales when Cordelia scraps her teeth on her jawline. She weaves her hands into Cordelia’s hair, tugging when she feels teeth biting down the same spot. 

“Mmm, I think you did when you kissed me and told me to undress you.”

“It was hardly undressing, just taking my jacket off. Just ... shut up and fuck me already, Miss Goode.”

Cordelia chuckles and focuses her attention on Wilhemina’s lovely neck. She leaves a few kisses before she bites, leaving a large hickey. “Say please.” 

Wilhemina bites down on her lips to try to stop herself from making noise. Cordelia tsks and gives a sharp thrust with her finger. “I wanna hear you. At least say my name.” 

A cry manages to escape Wilhemina’s lips, loud enough for someone passing to hear. The thought only spurs Cordelia on, and she thrusts again. “Say it, Wilhemina. Say my name.” 

Wilhemina’s voice catches when she moans, “Cordelia, fuck me.”

Cordelia smirks and keeps her hands still. “Say please.”

“Fuck! Cordelia, please, please fuck me!” She pulls on Cordelia’s hair again, trying to move her hips to gain friction. 

Cordelia chuckles, thriving on how easily Wilhemina is bending to her orders. “Isn’t ‘fuck’ such a coarse word, my dear?” she asks while slowly pumping her finger in and out of Wilhemina. 

“What ... what else do you think we’re doing? We’re not making love,” Wilhemina spits that out with scorn, her eyes glinting the exact time Cordelia deflates a little. “I hate you, Cordelia. Get that in your mind. This is a fuck because I want it, not some love idiocy. It’s too bad that’s what you thought because you were doing so well—”

“Be quiet.” Cordelia growls, fury filling her because yes, that’s exactly what she thought, that Wilhemina has some feelings for her and she’s too stubborn to admit it because fuck, Cordelia likes her. Really likes her.

“Make me.”

And she does. Cordelia pushes in another finger, and Wilhemina takes it incredibly well if the wetness dripping onto Cordelia’s fingers is any indication. Cordelia starts thrusting fast, reveling in the obscene squelching sound her two fingers make. 

“I-I’m close.” Wilhemina’s earlier arrogance is gone, replaced by a wild want of a release. “Don’t stop.”

“Oh, I should. I should get you back for being so horrible to me. I should stop you right here, on the edge of your climax, and make you beg again for me. Look at you, riding my fingers, dear Wilhemina, so needy and wet. I won’t, though because I—”

Wilhemina cuts her off with a desperate kiss, and Cordelia barely manages to catch the look in her eyes. It’s apprehension, it’s desire, it’s something like guilt, or perhaps it’s a combination of the three.

Their kiss is open-mouthed, and Cordelia tastes dark cherries—is it Wilhemina’s lipstick or hot breath? She’s not sure; she’s completely swept up in the feeling of Wilhemina jerking against her fingers and the load of wetness that drenches Cordelia’s hand. Wilhemina manages to muffle her moan into Cordelia’s mouth, but there is no hiding the way she claws at Cordelia, tugging her even closer than they are.

Perhaps them breathing together is the most intimate part of all this. Their chests heave at the same time, and every time they gasp or moan or grunt, they are literally breathing into each other’s lungs. If Cordelia can concentrate, she can almost feel a part of Wilhemina’s soul flying into her heart through their connected mouths. She’s not sure if it’s magic, but it is heaven and hell at the same time. 

They part slowly, lips first. Wilhemina, her lipstick smudged, drags her eyes open, and the delicate shyness there steals Cordelia’s heart away. “Why ... how could ...” She trails off, and Cordelia busies herself with fixing Wilhemina’s belt, combing back some stray hairs, and smoothing down her skirt. She keeps her touch light and gentle as she cups Wilhemina’s cheek, smiling gently at her. “Would you be alright if I went to go grab your cane, darling?” 

At her nod of agreement, Cordelia takes two steps to where Wilhemina’s cane rolled away in their ... actions and picks it up, covering Wilhemina’s hands with hers over the head of it. The warmth of her hands hopefully soaks into Wilhemina’s as they stand quietly, simply looking into each other’s eyes. Her customary awareness bleeds back in Wilhemina’s eyes, and Cordelia wishes that the unguardedness she saw—the bashful delight—makes a home there, someplace else from Cordelia’s heart. 

Wilhemina is the first to break the silence. “Don’t you have dinner to go to? Or shall we stand here tenderly and gaze?”

Cordelia chuckles. Her anger from before melts away at a simple jibe, and she smiles. “I certainly have ... satisfied my appetite, my dear. I certainly don’t mind during the latter though.” 

To her delight, a blush blooms on Wilhemina’s cheeks. Though she is the epitome of prim and proper once again, ignoring her appearance, the afterglow effects seem to be working in Cordelia’s favour. “Yes, well, I. I must return to see if the miscreants are revolting in my absence. Will you be joining me?” 

She shakes her head no, the call of silence and thought about their evening together too strong to resist. (Though, it’s not as if she would do any thinking besides the feeling of Wilhemina’s skin.)

“Ah. Good evening, then, Miss Goode.” Wilhemina looks vaguely disappointed a moment before turning to leave for the dining hall.

“Wilhemina,” Cordelia calls softly after her. 

She stops and does not turn around, merely moving her head an inch to the right. Cordelia wishes she would turn around to meet her gaze that says everything her mouth doesn’t. “I look forward to seeing you tomorrow at dinner again,” is what comes out.

Wilhemina nods and continues on without a word. The words that linger with Cordelia are “I hate you”, uttered by the same woman who rips Cordelia to shreds carelessly with her words, yet allows her to piece herself back together with her touch. 

I hate you.

Somehow, Cordelia doesn’t believe that at all.

Tag List: @shineestark, @marilynroselleprentiss

#so where did “I don’t write smut” go hmm #idk y’all need to thank me for this I’m going to hell jaoifjoiajfeaif #cordelia goode x wilhemina venable #cordelia goode #ahs cordelia goode #wilhemina venable #apocalypse #ahs imagine #ahs fic #ahs apocalypse #american horror story #sarah paulson #ahs #ahs sarah paulson #not sfw #coven

[badlydrawndrawnings]

*re-watches netflix asoue*

*Thinks about Gregor and Ike, and see how they’re missing a H*

*Thinks about how H could be Hector*

*’Oh yeah, Hector is not a VFD member in the Netflix show. Welp that can’t work in the Netflix show’*

*Suddenly realizes age lifts affect more characters, not just Kit*

*Spots some Barry Sonnenfeld cameos I didn’t see before*

*‘Hey wait a minute! [RETRACTED]’*

It’s a creator cameo, but Ike is played by Barry Sonnenfeld. Netflix!Ike is one of the older VFD members, meaning he got a major age lift upward (using Sonnenfeld’s age as a ballpark range), because there’s a chance Book!Ike -as with most members in the SBG- are in the same range, give or take several years. Gregor is dead, but he too got an age lift upward since Gregor is Ike’s older brother. They’re not the only ones (using most of the actors ages as a ballpark range) that are affect by them.

Lemony got an age lift upward, while Kit got an age lift downward (no amount of CGI on Patrick Warburton can make him look younger than Allison Williams -but it works enough for me to say he’s younger than Nathan Fillion- or stretching my disbelief Kit is older than Lemony, unless she found the fountain of youth). TUA has possible evidence Larry is the youngest SBG member if you don’t include Fernald (who age is more or less the same maybe slightly older but not by much), but Netflix!Larry certainly looks older than several members, including Kit and Larry. Ticket Seller Guy looks like the age I assumed Ishmael was in the books, and it stands out and goes to my next observation: Netflix!Ishmael  certainly looks younger than I imagined (the beard and hair looks fake as hell that’s probably it) Is it because they made VFD Ishmael’s creation as a school principal? Probably?

Based on Ike’s portrayal and painting, Gregor and Ike are in the same age range as Ishmael. Ergo, those three aren’t part of the same ‘generation’ as Lemony and Co (the hybrid SB/OS Generation). Ike certainly doesn’t seem he went to school with most of them except Josephine (who looks like she got an age lift upward).

Given they’re brothers, Gregor and Ike will have a resemblance between each other. And there’s one VFD member in the Netflix show who got an age lift upward, and he also just happens to bare a resemblance to Ike. He’s the closest thing one will get to what Gregor would look in the Netflix show.

If the theory Gregor and Ike has a sibling who names start with H can work its way in the Netflix Continuity, the only contender for H is Widdershins.

*OBJECTION!* (says the non-crack theorist side of me who was listening to Ace Attorney OSTs on Youtube while writing this second half of the post) Fiona introduces herself as Fiona Widdershins. Fiona still calls her stepfather Captain Widdershins. That means Fiona is taking the Widdershins surname.

Given the numerous cameos of Barry Sonnenfeld (I never spotted the one in the Reptile Room and the Wasabi one in the Grim Grotto), there’s a gene floating around Netflix ASOUE’s world. Let’s call it ‘the Bullshit Gene’, because it’s bullshit how it keeps showing up. The Bullshit Gene is out there because some people with the gene can’t keep it in their pants, or the Bullshit Gene is super strong to be past down numerous generations and their face becomes very f*cking common to where people who don’t have it joke/comment about it whenever possible.

Gregor, Ike, and Widdershins could have seen how it’s almost bullshit they look similar to one another, and joke how their faces are almost everywhere in places they don’t expect. But the three only learn the truth that they’re half brothers in a DNA test that was supposed to be a joke. Gregor and Ike’s father and Widdershins’ mother cheated on their spouses, which lead to Widdershins’ birth (given Widdershins’ painting, he’s close to Gregor’s age or is at Gregor’s age). Mr. Anwhistle Sr and Mrs. Widdershins Sr didn’t tell their children or their spouses of the affair because of the Bullshit Gene. Anyone who makes a comment how the three share a resemblance to one other are brushed off because they just have that very f*cking common face that is everywhere.

So uh, there isn’t a proper ‘H’ Awhistle because H stands for Half-Brother.

*HOLD IT!* (says the non-crack theorist side of me) Would all three keep this hidden? Widdershins, yes. Gregor, maybe (it can go either way there’s little info about him). But Ike? From what we know of Ike, would he not tell Josephine, his own wife? What would be a reason to keep it hidden anyway?

Let’s say Fernald working at Anwhistle Aquatics as an apprentice happens after the three found out they’re half brothers. Gregor, Widdeshins, and Ike for some reason (in a rather idiotic move), thought to keep it to themselves because no one would believe them because the Bullshit Gene is everywhere and everyone knows about it and joke about it. Reasonable, but still idiotic. Ike is sort of hoping for the right moment to strike though to tell Josephine and maybe everyone else. They’re going to start a family after all. It would be wonderful if the two families got together for a real family picnic, not a VFD meeting/picnic.

With this new-found familial connection, Widdershins thought to use the the nepotist approach to get Fernald a job at Anwhistle Aquatics (‘Gregor can you help your step-nephew achieve his dream in Marine Biology and stuff?’ ‘Step-Half Nephew. Fernald actually has the best qualifications, so yeah.’). 

That action decided they should do a test run of sorts. Anwhistle Aquatic is the chosen grounds. Fernald and Gregor are working together and they get along. Ike visits and tells Josephine (Josephine mentioning in Season One about she thinks boys would prefer to play with cards; she never met Fernald, but she heard of him through Ike), and Widdershins show up once in awhile to check up on his stepson (Fiona visits once or twice but she barely remembers them by the time she becomes 16). The brothers see it’s working...at first. The Medusoid Mycelium is now created. Ike and Gregor start fighting over it, as with Gregor and Fernald (who is more  ‘hey just reconsider’). Widdershins isn’t getting involved, but agrees with Ike and Fernald. Gregor is outnumber but he still wants to go through the program, with or without his apprentice’s (nephew) help. 

And then the Anwhistle Aquatic Fire happens. Everyone eventually learns it’s done by Fernald. And Ike is angry Gregor is dead. Gregor could still be alive if Widdershins didn’t try to get his step-son into working at Anwhistle Aquatics. If Gregor and Ike never discover their half brother and his family, Gregor would still be alive. And Ike wants to have a family with Josephine. With Fernald with mind, Ike doesn’t want Widdershins and Fiona to be around Ike’s family in case the same stunt happens again. Widdershins and Ike in a mutual agreement -with a heated argument- parts way and keep their family secret to themselves.

So yeah. Ike would keep a secret from Josephine if his buttons were push. Gregor and his death was the button that did the trick.

*HANG ON!* (says the non-crack theorist side of me) What does that means regarding the bad blood between him and Widdershins? Widdershins is the one who drove Fernald away in the books after all! For...well, no one know for sure. Just theories. Mostly related to Mrs. Widdershins.

*‘Hey wait a minute! I just realize there’s lack of an importance of Mrs. Widdershins and her death in the Netflix Show’*

Okay, so in the books, Widdershins for whatever reason (guilt? let’s say guilt), is on the denial train when it comes to Fernald. More often than not, Widdershins wants to remember Fernald as the teenage boy who is pleasant and charming. He never brings up the fights or anything bad regarding his stepson. In fact, the denial train is so strong, I think the reason why Widdershins made his weird comment of marriage to Violet is because he convinced himself Fernald is still a teenage boy, and not the adult he is by present time. And it’s clear as day Fernald really, really, hates his stepfather. A lot. At lot to where Fernald would start a fight with his stepfather in a parking lot Denny’s (and Fernald will win said fight). Apply the idea/theory Mrs. Widdershins was working with Gregor and she died in the Anwhistle Aquatic Fire, Fernald has every right to pick said fight: Widdershins was responsible for Fernald’s mom death in Fernald’s eyes.

In the Netflix show, Fernald hate his stepfather, but it’s not on the levels as his book counterpart. After his freak out over Madame Lulu!Olivia, Fernald thinks about calling Fiona, but gets the realization his stepfather could answer instead, and even comments/ask himself if Widdershins would still be mad at him [Fernald], most likely over the Anwhistle Aquatic Fire. Fernald’s tone in the scene means he is scare of meeting Widdershins again. Fernald gladly tells Sunny a happy memory of sorts with Widdershins, about how the two went ice fishing before immediately back tracking because Fernald realize (in horror) he has remnant affection (let’s call it that) left in his heart. And the biggest ‘slip-up’ of this remnant affection: Fernald calls Widdershins ‘step-pops’. He and Fiona call Widdershins their stepfather, but Fiona never says ‘step-pops’. It’s possible ‘step-pops’ was Fernald’s prefer terminology before the bad blood set. There’s hate, but it’s not worth picking a fight in a parking lot at Denny’s.

In the Netflix show...instead of keeping Fernald alive as a young teenager who is pleasant and charming, Widdershins wants Fernald very f*cking dead. He told Fiona her brother died in a manatee accident. He told Fiona this not long after Fernald set Anwhistle Aquatics on fire and presumably after getting kick out of VFD, and around this time the big fight happens where Fernald tells Widdershins he [Fernald] never wanted to see his [Widdershins] face again. It’s a f*ck up lie because when Book!Widdershins said the same thing to Book!Fiona about her mom, Fiona’s mom is dead. Book!Widdershins also never even told Fiona that Fernald is dead, he’s just alive and missing. And I should bring up the happy family photo. In the books, it’s more or less open correction it was crumple but it still show all four of the family members. Netflix’s happy family photo took a note from Mama Imelda in Coco who folded away her husband’s guitar on the ofrenda photo (after ripping off her husband’s face). Widdershins folded away Fernald, leaving only Fiona and Widdershins (and Fernald’s hand). 

In both books and show, Widdershins drove away Fernald. In the books, it’s possible (but not 100% certain) Fernald blames Widdershins for causing Fernald’s mom death in the Anwhistle Aquatic Fire. In the Netflix show, under this theory Netflix!H is Widdershins, Widdershins drove away Fernald because Widdershins blames Fernald for causing Widdershins’ half brother death in the Anwhistle Aquatic Fire. However, Fernald decision’s to leave is also because Fernald doesn’t understand the full extent of his actions. Fernald knows his Stepfather is mad over the fire and Gregor’s death, but Fernald didn’t think his Stepfather would be super mad over the fire and Gregor’s death. 

Of course, Fernald probably (probably) wouldn’t have set the fire had the three brothers you know, told everyone they’re related. It’s possible (possible) Widdershins did realize that terrible mistake in a cooling off period. If he also hated Fernald enough to never want to see his stepson’s face again, Widdershins could have torn off Fernald’s face of the photo.

#asoue #a series of unfortunate events #netflix asoue #asoue season 3 #asoue netflix #theory #this is a text post #tv show continuity

[elektra-world]

Trainee Daze

↳ღ—— [Scenario: Trainee Daze!]

Some trainees apart of Starpunches new BIG project are preparing for their eventual debut and also experience some undeserved hate from other trainees. They're all stuck in a sort of daze as they soak in their potential debut lol.

Warnings: Some “mild” bullying

Things were a little tense for the three trainees chosen to join DIVIN3 in a special summer sub-unit. Jealousy was high within the small group of female trainees at the company and all eyes were on them, many casting angry glares as the trio wandered the hallways as they headed to the small cafeteria.

"I hate how they look at us." Seungah mumbled, throwing her hood up and stuffing her hands deep into her sweatshirt pocket as she picked up her pace. Youngmi grunted her agreement, shooting back her own menacing glare.

"It will be fine soon." Fiona reassures them with confidence, though deep down she was unsure herself.

"I mean that is doubtful," Youngmi huffs out. "We all know the subunit and second project will most likely be the last of groups for awhile." Youngmi knew how it felt to train for so long and watch others move up while she stayed in one spot. Prior to coming to Starpunch when she was 13, she had spent 5 years training at JYP. It was brutal at such a young age but it's what she wanted.

"We have to ignore them. Find something good to eat so we can be well nurished for practice." Fiona lightly pushed the two girls towards the counter and passed them each a tray, motioning towards the food eagerly.

As the girls turn around to find a table, a friendly voice calls for them and Fiona looks, seeing Heeyoung - another trainee - waving them over. Her younger brother Siwoo is next to her as always and gives the three a smile as they take their seats. The siblings were practically joined at the hip and it'd be a weird day not to see them together.

"Are you guys doing okay?" Heeyoung asks before scooping a glob of rice into her mouth.

Fiona and Seungah nod but Youngmi pouts and shakes her head. "Everybody is jealous and it's ridiculous! They act like we haven't worked hard for this!" She whines. "We can't help it that we're better." She pouts again and Fiona gently elbows her in the side.

"Don't be like this." She warns.

"Like what?" Youngmis eyes widen as she stares at the older girl.

"Bratty. Conceded. Yes, we've worked hard but everybody here is talented in their own right!" Fiona sounded like a mother scolding her child. She loved the maknae to death but sometimes her attitude left a sour taste in Fionas mouth.

"You'll just make them more mad of they notice you acting like this." Seungah chimes in. Youngmi crossed her arms and stuck her lip out further, staring at the table top for a few minutes until she finally decides to eat.

"You are such a little baby! So cute!" Heeyoung coos and reaches over to pinch Youngmis cheek. Siwoo does the same to her opposite cheek and the girl blushes before swatting both hands away.

"Where are the others?" Fiona questions, looking around the cafeteria. The others being their "crew" as Heeyoung called them, aka the members of Starpunches big project that even the trainees weren't too sure on exactly what it was just yet.

"We haven't seen them since this morning." Siwoo mumbles through a mouthful of dumplings. His sister smacks him hard, "don't be disgusting and swallow first you pig!" She warms him. Siwoo screams dramatically and laughs loudly. A few people stare, amused smiles on their faces.

"You annoying little butt!" Heeyoung hisses as she shoves her brother gently. She is grinning like crazy though because she loved him dearly and didn't mind his obnoxiously loud voice.

The group finishes and gets ready to leave but a familiar grating voice pipes up from a nearby table, raising their voice over so slightly so those nearby can hear.

"They think they're so special. It makes me sick, really." The snooty voice comments, giving a sly sideways glance to Fiona and the others.

Fiona rolls her eyes and tries to lead everyone away but Youngmi doesn't follow. Instead, she lifts her eyebrows and steps up to the girls table, staring her down menacingly. "What is your problem, Taeha? Are you that pathetic and envious?"

Taeha laughs and claps her hands, clearly amused. “Envious? Of you? The one who had to train for eight years in order to be good enough?”

“Do you see many eight to fifteen year olds debuting? Isn’t that a bit young?” Youngmi tilts her head, fingers propped on her chin as she thinks hard. “Aren’t you twenty-four and still scrounging for scraps?”

Fiona grimaces and gently grabs Youngmis arm, “Come! We have to go to vocal practice now.” She says through gritted teeth. She tugs the maknae towards the door while the others quickly follow.

As they head for the elevator, another figure joins them. Jaeyoung smiles as he steps in, greeting everyone and letting out a loud, relaxed sigh. "I hope everyone has slept and eaten well." He says as the doors close. He was much like a father, always making sure people were taking good care of themselves and good at keeping order. Him and Fiona were basically the parental figures to everybody else.

Jaeyoung was also one of the most handsome guys at Starpunch - his easy going personality, natural charm and good looks earned him the nickname "prince" among trainees. He always carried himself that way too with his perfect manners and precise posture. It was well known that his family was very well off and though very kind to everybody, they were big on respect and manners.

"Jae!" Seungah squeals, a huge smile on her face. She had the biggest crush on him and could never contain her excitement when she saw him. It was the only time you'd see her nerves slip away freely. He looks over his shoulder, smiling wide at her and blushing slightly. "Hello Seungie!" He uses his nickname for her and the girl practically melts into a puddle right there.

"You two make me sick." Heeyoung makes a gagging sound before smirking. She thought their (unknown to each other) mutual crushes was cute. 

Siwoo giggles and squeezes his hyungs shoulder as he gives him a knowing glance to which Jaeyoung clears his throat loudly and shifts his weight to the opposite foot, looking ahead with a straight face. The doors ding a minute later and everyone steps out.

"Have a good practice everyone!" Jaeyoung bows his head with a smile and heads in the opposite direction. 

"He's not practicing today?" Seungah pouts.

"Prince Jaeyoung doesn't need much vocal practice with that silky smooth voice of his." Siwoo adds with a devilish lift of his eyebrows. Seungah blushes and lowers her head, slipping into the vocal practice room without another word.

"You two are going to kill the poor girl from embarrassment." Fiona shakes her head at the siblings while Youngmi giggles. “Now let’s go perfect our voices for debut!”

#kpop idol oc #issa queued #kpop oc #idol oc #idol!oc #kpop fake company #kpop oc gg #kpop oc girl group #kpop oc group #kpop au #kpop social media au #KOC #kpop roleplay #kpop ff #kpop fanfiction #kpop!fakegroup #kpop!au #kpop!addition #oc kpop company #starpunchentertainment

[kurogabae]

TSUBASA: TRAINWRECK CHRONICLES

And How Bee Train is Single-Handedly Propagating Cancel Culture in This the Year of Our Lord 2020

PART 1 – PART 2 – PART 3 – PART 4 -- PART 5 

[[ join me on PillowFort. i have free invite codes if you need an account ]]

So last post was all filler episodes and we're well into season two of this, and I cannot stress this enough, two season anime. The only canon arc we've had was Piffle so far and it was poorly handled and out of order. Surely, absolutely surely, we are in for a canon arc. Shara perhaps? Skip right to Le Court? We all know they'd never dare touch Tokyo. How are they going to pad out the rest of the season?

Why another filler. A bad filler. The dreaded filler that goes against pretty much all of Fai's everything.

It's "A Date With a Wizard" and Kurogane isn't the one getting the date. If you haven't watched or heard of this episode before, buckle up kids. It's a doozy. And big spoiler warnings ahead.

Fort City Bit AKA Fai Dates His Own Fucking Mom (but like an AU version so it's okay I guess???):

You read that right. Fai goes on a date with this world's version of Chii, who was an artificial being he modeled after his dead mother. I could end the rant here but oh, there is so much to this. So much. It's only one episode long but it feels like an eternity.

The premise for magic use in this world is that:

Everyone has magic and that magic is specialized

Your career path is based on your magic's specialization. Like in MLP with cutie marks. And everyone is Fine with this.

Everyone recharges their magic via the sun, which is risen by their king

The king is chosen yearly after everyone in the country has the same fucking dream one night

The whole country runs on magic, to the point that if there is no magic there is no food, no power, no anything. But that's fine, because every day they get recharged by the sun. Right? WRONG! Because the current king is being a depressed little shit and refuses to raise the sun, effectively dooming the country to a slow death. Neat.

BUT BEFORE ALL OF THAT! The episode opens with Fai having a nightmare about Ashura looming like he's auditioning for a role in Attack on Titan. Vague and menacing, which is literally all we know about Ashura because we know nothing about Fai's past. And we never will. At least not in anime-land. No one knows anything. The manga isn't pulling this fakey flashback shit, so why is the anime? I don't know, but I hate it!

Anyway, the family gets the low down from Touya and Yukito - who still do not recognize Sakura and that upsets me because of the implications that there is no Sakura in this universe. (Sidenote: Kurogane recognizes them, even though he's never met them in the anime so far so honestly, just fuck everything.) While Touya is feeding them a frankly lavish meal that he's magiced up he explained their king problems. This leads to my next issue - if you're so worried about running out of magic why are you using it so flippantly and in such an extra ass way? Can you not make normal food? Does it only exist in magic form? Maybe just summon some soup? Does all food cost the same amount of mana? THIS MAGIC SYSTEM IS BAD!

So, back to the whole the king is too sad to raise the sun which powers everyone's magic which is now beginning to run low. Another problem I have. You get a recharge on your magic everyday. They have not gotten ANY recharges for, and I'm quoting here, months. They change kings every year. So even on the low end of things we're looking at 3-4 months before anyone got concerned about the king just. Not raising the sun. Personally, I would have gotten worried after a few days, a week at most. No one wanted to go and find out like "Hey your highness, why no sun? What's got you down?"

That, however, would be logical. This is a place of magic and whimsy! Not logic. Fai is asked to use his magic to figure out what is wrong with their king. Predictably, he tells them they have a better chance of meeting god, so everyone gets thrown in jail. Because refusing to solve a country's weird problems is illegal. Not that jail has ever stopped them before. Not with Kurogane and his muscles around. And while I am always up for watching Kurogane break things I do have to wonder - why are they not just warping free? Mokona said there was no feather. No one said anything about being magically held back. And yet, they are running through the castle, endangering themselves and the children!!!

Obviously this is For Plot Reasons, and I use the words "plot" and "reasons" loosely here.

Somehow the kitties and puppies get separated and Fai and Sakura end up surrounded by guards. Does Fai finally fight? Does he open that can of whoop ass we all know he's been saving? No. He leaps into the air and takes flight like some sort of stork. And while Fai's current cocky attitude is refreshing, he's working on some sort of idiot bimbo in a horror movie logic of "to escape the building I must do upstairs". This is not a man made to last on his own.

And, like Shrek to Fiona, the stairs lead him to the highest room in the tallest tower. Fai, then, promptly loses his shit as if he's not fully aware that doubles exist across the multiverse. Like, yeah, it would be a shock and anyone would be freaked out at the sudden surprise of it all, but Fai acts like he thinks he's stepped back into Celes. Like an idiot. He's better than this.

Now, we learn more things about this messed up king situation. Not only does everyone have a dream every year electing the new monarch, but the new king gets their memory erased for the whole year so that they can "rule with a pure heart" or some shit. Which seems like a baaaad fucking way to run.... anything. At all. Ever. Might as well pick up a fresh baby and put it in charge. It's bad. And it gets worse.

Chii is sad, but she wants to hang out with Fai and it's the first time she's shown any interest in doing anything but being Sad so her babysitter spirits are all like "Oh that's neat!" And Fai takes this is his chance to just... run off for a night on the town with her? They literally vanish and leave Sakura ALONE IN THE CASTLE WITH THE SAME SPIRITS WHO JAILED THEM. In what fucking universe????

Look, they are trying so so so so so so hard to sell this FaiChii shit. Fai leaves Sakura alone in a castle where they have just busted out of jail, he has no idea where or how Kurogane and Syaoran are, he's clearly uncomfortable around Chii as she reminds him of what he's running from, and, oh yeah, she's a copy of his dead mother he created in another world in order to comfort him and his dead brother as a child. Everything is Fine. Let's go get tea.

I'm gonna rapid fire some S tier bullshit:

no one knows where Chii has taken Fai - why is there no way to track your baby-brained king?

Fai leaves with Chii happily and cheerily, again, leaving Sakura behind and alone - who is this man because it isn't Fai

the only clue they have to Fai and Chii's location is that they are no longer on castle grounds, yet somehow Syaoran knows Exactly Where to Look - because sure why not?

Chii doesn't know how to drink???? - does this happen with every king? do they have to be potty trained too? omg they really are babies this is a terribly way to run a country!!!!!!

teaching someone basic life functions is not romantic but Bee Train sure wants us to think it is

"I want to stay with Fai forever and always." - at least he panics at commitment still... and probably incest

“I should be thanking you. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way.” - What? Uncomfortably reminded of your past and why your life is just shy of a living hell? Who are you? You are not Fai

Kurogane and Syaoran show up to save Fai and Chii, who have been surrounded by guards (I think, I can't remember exactly but I'm pretty sure they're there to take her back to the castle and her Sad Room). Fai apparently won't fight in front of Chii but whatever at this point.

It comes out that Chii is an artificial soul/being (like the Chii in Celes) and because of that she cannot leave the town or she DIES and that means the king dies and I guess they don't have a back up plan for that. Unsurprising but bad. Still, Chii begs Fai to take her away and show her the world and Fai like... hesitates? Thinks about it? Considers it?!?!? I dunno but he doesn't automatically say "Uh no, you'll die and also I have other shit to do, bye" and that's dumb for a lot of reasons.

Eventually he tells her no and convinces her to bring the sun back and be happy because she'll be able to remember him or some shit (you know, unless they take those memories too!) and  they all say goodbye. And I couldn't be more thankful.

Honestly, the real MVP here is Kurogane for not just losing his shit at all of this like I have. He's a better man than I.

Tune in next time as I continue to scream, in vain, at god.

PART 1 – PART 2 – PART 3 – PART 4 -- PART 5

#tsubasa chronicle #TRC #my meta #tsubasa trainwreck chronicles #CLAMP #god will not answer for allowing these crimes to exist #and therefore will never be allowed peace by me

[alexisrosemullens]

you are the one (designed for me)

Summary: Everyone has a timer that countdowns until you meet your soulmate. When you meet them, it turns into an infinity sign. The Gallaghers have bad luck with their soulmates, especially Ian whose soulmate left when he needed him the most.

Chapter One: time is moving slow    

Ian steps into the bitter air, pulling his gloves and hat on, making sure the hat covers his ears. He barely glances at the 00:00:00 tattoo on his right wrist nowadays and today is no exception as he makes sure his gloves cover his wrists. He wraps the scarf around his neck, tucks his scarf into his jacket, zips up the jacket, and takes off down the street, focusing on staying warm in the brutal Chicago winter.

Ian dreads meeting up with Lip for their weekly breakfast. Lip’s going to talk all about his soulmate most of time anyway, leaving Ian feeling miserable. He’s happy for his brother, he really is. Lip’s soulmate is actually working out; unlike Ian’s and Fiona’s.

He passes by several couples on his way to Patsy’s, holding hands and smiling. He can’t help but wonder if they were soulmates, the unmatched, or those like Ian whose soulmates left them and decided to live life without them. Ian snorts at the thought of his soulmate and keeps walking, trying his best to ignore the couples and secretly hoping it doesn’t work out. He’s feeling very cynical lately. He guesses three years without a soulmate does that.

Ian makes it to Patsy’s and shakes the snow off, hanging up his jacket and scarf. Lip waves at him at their regular booth and Ian wants to roll his eyes at the site of the infinity tattoo on his brother’s right wrist. He walks over, taking his gloves off and stuffing them in his pockets then sits across from Lip, immediately taking a sip of the coffee in front of him, trying to warm his body temperature up.

“God, it’s freezing out,” he says, setting the coffee down and rubbing his hands together. “And it’s not much warmer in the house.”

“Did you guys forget to pay the electric bill again? ‘Cause if you need the money, I can pitch in,” Lip offers, going to pull out his wallet.

Ian shakes his head, stopping him. “We’re fine. We paid it. On time too.”

“That’s a Gallagher first.”

Ian laughs, nodding. “Fiona and I think the heater might be going out soon but we just can’t swing it right now.”

“If it goes out, call me,” Lip insists. “I can’t have you guys freezing to death.”

Ian rolls his eyes. “Yes, Dad.” Lip glares at him, hating that Ian just compared him to Frank but Ian loves it. He loves teasing Lip and calling Lip dad whenever Lip tries to take of them.

Lip is a special Gallagher. He’s the only one that has gotten out of the South Side. He’s currently in school for engineering and already has a job lined up with his internship. He helps Fiona and Ian out when they let him. They are still at the Gallagher house raising their younger siblings, trying to give them a better childhood than they did. Lip sends them a check once a week and promises once he has a full time job, he’ll get them out of South Side. Fiona made Lip promise to get Debbie, Carl, and Liam out before her and Ian. She says they're too old to have their brother help them but Lip knows she's just too proud.

Lip met his soulmate, Ella, almost a year ago. He bumped into her in the lobby of his internship that he works at during his summer and winter breaks. His sleeve was pulled down and he didn’t realize she was his soulmate. He walked away from her after apologizing for running into her. She ran after him, pulling his sleeve up and showed him the infinity sign that had formed. She asked him to coffee and he agreed. Lip fell in love with her almost instantly. She was funny, smart, kind, and knew what it was like to be poor. They hit it off immediately. It took him months before he got around to bringing her over to meet his siblings and only did so because he got annoyed with Fiona’s constant begging. Ella immediately fit right in to his crazy, loud family. He is currently the only Gallagher who’s soulmate hasn’t left him and it’s actually working out.

Lip runs a hand through his hair, his tattoo flickering. Ian glances at it then averts his eyes.  He inadvertently pulls down the sleeve of his shirt. The infinity sign was torturing him. Lip notices his brother’s reaction and drops his hand quickly.

“You know, you could join a support group for those who lost their soulmates,” Lip says. It isn’t the first time Lip has brought it up and it definitely won’t be the last. He's always mentioned it but he started mentioning it a lot more when he met Ella. He is driving Ian nuts with it.

Ian scoffs at the idea. “Aren’t those for people whose soulmates died and not ones whose soulmates thought they were too much to handle?”

Lip shrugs. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

“I’m fine, Lip,” Ian assures him for the countless time. “I’m in a good place right now. Just a little bitter, that’s all.”

“It’s been three years, Ian, and you have yet to move past this. It’s not healthy.”

Ian motions one of the waitresses over, putting an end to the conversation. Lip just didn’t get it. Lip’s soulmate wants to be with him. She doesn’t think he’s damaged.

Soulmates don’t always work out the way Fiona painted it when they were little. Lip and Ian would curl up in Fiona’s too small bed and she would tell them all these amazing stories about soulmates. People that would watch the time on their wrist, watching the countdown, waiting to see who that person is when it reaches zero, then watching the time change to an infinity sign. Ian would trace the numbers on Fiona’s wrist, imagining the day he would meet his soulmate.

As they grew older, they realized the infinity sign didn’t always mean forever. The infinity sign would change back if one of the soulmates leaves. They saw it first hand with Frank and Monica. Monica would leave constantly and their tattoos would change each time she left. Instead of building each other up, they tore each other down. Then they saw it again with Fiona, saw that it almost broke her.

But then there were the soulmates where the infinity signs never changed. Kevin and Veronica were the one good example of this in Ian’s life. Their tattoos never faded, they stayed as clear as ever.

Having a countdown tattoo on your wrist could be very stressful at times. Some people hated it and would end up covering the tattoo, leaving their first meeting up to fate. Most looked forward to watching the time go down and get closer to meeting the one, curious to see who that person is when the countdown reaches zero.

Lip changes the conversation after the waitress takes their order but the new conversation is all about Lip and his soulmate. Ian tries to keep a happy front, he really does. He forces smiles and nods, making comments here and there. When it gets to be too much, he finishes his breakfast and coffee and stands up.

“I gotta go. My shift starts soon,” he says, pulling out his wallet.

“I got it, man,” Lip stops him and pays like always.

“Thanks, man.”

“Hey, wait.” Lip pulls a pamphlet out of his back pocket and hands it to Ian.

Ian groans at the title, So you lost your Soulmate?. “Seriously?”

“Just think about it.”

“Fuck you,” Ian says, flipping Lip off before walking away.

His favorite coworker and partner, Sue, greets him when he walks into the station. He nods at her, heading to his locker. He takes off his big winter jacket and changes into his EMT button down and his EMT jacket, stuffing the stupid pamphlet into the locker, hoping they’re get lost with the others. He heads back to the front where Sue is sitting in the ambulance.

“Morning, Gallagher,” she greets, handing him a cup of tea. “How was your breakfast with your dick of a brother?”

“He wouldn’t shut up about his stupid soulmate and when he wasn’t talking about her, he was trying to convince me to go to a stupid support group,” Ian grumbles. “Gave me another fucking pamphlet.”

Sue laughs, clapping Ian on the shoulder. “He’s still in the honeymoon phase. It’s been what? A year? I was like that the first year with Jim. I wanted everyone to feel what I was feeling and be happy.”

“Yeah, but I did have that. For a little while at least,” Ian mumbles, looking down.

“Jesus, sorry, kid. I didn’t mean it like that,” Sue backtracks, squeezing Ian’s shoulder. “But he just wants you to be happy without your soulmate. And you can be.”

A call comes in, breaking up the conversation. Ian jumps up, getting the ambulance ready before Sue says anything else. Sue drives quickly to the call and is barely in park when Ian jumps out of the ambulance, his bag over his shoulder.

Ian rushes into Albi, pushing past the regulars. He makes his way to the where Kevin and Veronica are waiting for him.

“Hey, Ian,” V greets, smiling at him. They lead him to the back room where Mickey Milkovich is sitting on top of the freezer, his hand wrapped in what Ian is sure use to be a white towel.

“What happened?” Ian asks, pushing past V to get to Mickey.

“I’m fine,” Mickey mumbles, trying to push Ian away.

“Yeah, the now red towel attests to that,” V snorts. “He cut his hand while pulling a bottle out of a box. Didn’t know it was broken until he hissed and pulled out a bloody hand.”

“It’s just a fucking scratch,” Mickey protests when Ian pulls off the towel.

“You got injured on the job. We can’t take any chances,” Kev says. “We’ve been in enough trouble. You can help, right?”

Ian hums and nods at the comments, cleaning up Mickey’s wounds so he can get a better look at the cut. He knows of Mickey through his sister Mandy. They hung out some when Mandy was Ian’s beard but stopped when Mickey dropped out, got married, and had a kid. Ian still keeps up with Mandy but only sees Mickey when he comes to the Albi every once in a while. “It’s pretty deep, Mickey, you need stitches.”

“I’m not going to a fucking hospital,” Mickey snatches his hand away from Ian and applies more pressure on it to try to stop the bleeding himself.

“You’re getting stitches, Milkovich,” V threatens, giving him at look that Ian knows she uses when the twins aren’t behaving.

Ian hums, turning to look at Sue. She shrugs, leaning against the door, her way of letting him know that she doesn’t care. Ian turns back to Mickey, taking his hand again and looking at the cut. “I can do them here.”

Mickey lets out a breathe then nods. He glares at Kev and V, who take it as a sign to leave.

Ian shifts, grabbing his bag and pulling out all the things he needs. He grabs some alcohol wipes and cleans the wound, causing Mickey to suck in a breath. “Sorry,” he mumbles, cleaning up the blood that has dried on Mickey’s right hand where Mickey had use to try to stop the bleeding. His eyes flicker to Mickey’s 00:00:00 tattoo before getting back to work on his left hand.

Ian quickly stitches him up and wraps his hand up. “You need to change your bandage tomorrow,” he tells him, standing up. “And I will know if you don’t.”

Mickey scoffs. “Yeah, how’s that?”

Ian looks down at him, raising his eyebrows, giving him a look to say he will call Mandy.

“Fine. I’ll change it. Happy?” Mickey rolls his eyes, standing up.

Ian nods, grinning slightly. He steps back, leaving Sue to hand Mickey the paperwork. Mickey quickly signs and shoves it back into Sue’s hand. Ian shifts his bag on his shoulder, turning to leave.

“Hey.”

Mickey’s voice stops him, forcing him to look back and raise his eyebrows at him.

“Thanks,” Mickey says.

Ian smiles, nodding then turning around.

The rest of Ian’s shift is uneventful. He tells Sue goodbye then heads back out into the cold, bundling back up. The living room light of the Gallagher house is still on, telling him that Fiona is waiting up for him. Ian stomps the snow of his boots on the porch then heads inside, engulfed in warmth when he opens the door. He pulls off all the many layers then collapses on the couch next to Fiona.

“Rough shift?” she asks, handing him part of the blanket she is bundled up in.

He shakes his head, curling up in the blanket. “Not really. The most exciting part was giving Mickey Milkovich stitches.”

“He willingly let you do that?” Fiona asks, surprised.

Ian shrugs. “Kev and V sort of didn’t give him a choice since he was injured on the job.” Ian pulls the blanket up to his chin, trying to warm up. “V gave him her mom stare.”

Fiona laughs. “It is pretty scary.”

Ian hums, looking up at the TV show Fiona is watching. When it doesn’t catch his eye, he turns back to Fiona. “Kids in bed?”

“Yeah, finally. Debbie had a book report and was working on it pretty late but she ended up giving up a few minutes ago.”

“Good. So Lip gave me a fucking pamphlet today.”

“Let me guess. It’s the So you lost your Soulmate? one?” Fiona asks.

Ian nods. Fiona burst out laughing, leaning forward to grab something off the coffee table. She leans back, throwing the same pamphlet in his lap.

“That fucker,” Ian mumbles, grabbing the pamphlet and opening it up.

“He dropped it off this afternoon when he dropped of Liam. He tried to give me the whole speech and everything but I shoved him out the door,” Fiona tells him.

Ian laughs, flinging the pamphlet away when he sees a picture of a smiling couple. “He just can’t keep his nose out of our lives, can he?”

“He only wants what’s best for us,” Fiona says in a mocking tone causing Ian to laugh even harder.

They quiet down after hearing a small squeak up above them. Fiona focuses on her TV show while Ian plays with the blanket.

“Do you think maybe Lip’s right?” he asks quietly.

Fiona looks back at him, surprised.

“I mean it’s been three years for me. Almost seven for you,” Ian continues. “Maybe it’s time for us to move on. I mean, they aren’t coming back. They made that pretty fucking clear.”

Fiona makes a noise, pulling her right hand out of the blanket. She flips it over, looking at her wrist where the 00:00:00 tattoo matches Ian’s. Ian traces the numbers with his fingers, like he used to do when they were little and curled up in her bed. He intertwines their fingers, squeezing her hand. Fiona smiles softly, squeezing his hand and leaning her head against his shoulder.

“Ian? Fi?”

The two older siblings turn to find their younger brother at the foot of the stairs. Liam rubs his eyes, one of his pajama pants leg at his knee and only wearing one sock.

“Hey, I thought you were asleep,” Fiona says, sitting up and holding her arms out.

Liam immediately goes to her, climbing into her lap. Fiona covers him with a blanket, rubbing his arms to warm him up. Liam shakes her off, holding out his right arm to Ian. Ian gives him a questioning look so Liam pulls up his sleeves, showing his countdown.

“The wrapping came off in the shower. Can you cover it back up?” Liam asks.

“Yeah, bud,” Ian leans forward, kissing Liam’s head then gets up to go get his backpack.

After Ian’s soulmate left three years ago, Debbie took it upon herself to start covering up her countdown. She said she wanted to be surprised when she ran into her soulmate. She didn’t want a clock ticking down. Soon after, Carl and Liam also asked to have their countdowns covered. None of them got the sugarcoated version of soulmates like Lip and Ian did when they were younger. They saw quickly and at a very young age how soulmates can ruin another person. Ian’s pretty sure they just started covering it up in support of him and Fiona.

“There you go,” Ian says once he finishes wrapping up Liam’s wrist.

“Thanks,” he answers, rubbing his wrist. “The kids at school ask why I cover it up.”

“What did you tell them?” Fiona asks.

Liam shrugs. “That I don’t want to know when it happens so maybe I won’t be disappointed.”

Fiona sucks in a breath, looking at Ian. Ian gives her a knowing look and the guilt rushes over him. They are setting a bad example for their younger brother. “Hey,” Fiona starts, shifting Liam so he is in-between her and Ian. She wraps her arms around his shoulder, knocking her knee against his. “Soulmates can be wonderful things and sometimes it works out beautifully. Look at V and K. They’ve been together since they found each other. But you don’t need a soulmate to be happy.”

“But you and Ian aren’t happy,” Liam tells her.

“Who says we’re not?” Ian asks.

Liam shrugs. “I can tell.”

Ian looks at Fiona again, her face looking like he felt. “Just because Fiona and I aren’t with our soulmates, doesn’t mean we aren’t happy. It’s just-”

“Our soulmates didn’t leave us in good places,” Fiona finishes. “And it’s hard to recover from that but we’re working on it. Working on being happy. Okay?”

Liam nods. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want you two to not find anyone because you’re too busy worrying about me.”

“Shit, he figured us out,” Ian teases, grinning at Fiona.

“We’ve been made,” Fiona joins in, tickling Liam.

Liam laughs, shrugging to get out of her grasp.

The next morning, Fiona corners Ian in the kitchen. “Lip’s right, we need to move on.” She hands him the pamphlet and another one Lip had given them a few weeks ago.

Ian sighs, taking the pamphlets out of her hands.

“They’re meeting today at noon,” Fiona says. “We should go.”

Ian looks down at the pamphlets then looks up, watching Liam eat his cereal with a thick bandage on his wrist. Debbie is standing in front of Carl, wrapping his wrist up in a bandage. Ian could see the edge of a bandage under Debbie’s long sleeve shirt. Ian sighs and nods. “Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

Fiona and Ian both go to support group but it ends up being a bad idea. Most of the people are those whose soulmates died not because they left them. The leader of the group notices Ian struggling during the meeting and tells him about a single’s group instead and that it’s meeting right after this one. Ian glances over his shoulder to tell Fiona but his sister is walking out the door with a guy on her arm. Ian rolls his eyes and stays for the single group.

The single’s group is a little bit better than the support group. There’s only one other gay guy and he immediately asks Ian to meet up. That’s how Ian finds himself in the Albi that Friday night waiting on the guy to show up.

“Gallagher,” Mickey greets when Ian sits down at the bar.

“Mickey,” Ian nods, asking for a beer.

“Waiting for your asshole brother?” Mickey asks, handing him a beer.

“Does no one actually like Lip?” Ian asks, confused. “Sue pretty much said the same thing the other day.”

“Nope. That dude’s a dick to everyone.”

Ian rolls his eyes. “I get it but no. I’m waiting for my well, I guess date.”

Mickey raises his eyebrows, crossing his arms “You’re not sure?”

“He’s from my single’s group,” Ian mumbles. “Hey! It’s better than support group!” Ian defends when Mickey starts laughing.

“Why the fuck did you join either one?” Mickey asks, grinning in amusement.

“Fiona and I are worried we’re setting a bad example with the kids,” Ian answers. When Mickey gives him a questioning look, he continues. “They keep their countdowns covered and Liam doesn’t want to be disappointed in his soulmate. He’s eight.”

Mickey whistles, straighten up. “Jesus, Frank and Monica really fucked you guys up.”

Ian shakes his head. “It wasn’t them.” He flips over his right wrist, showing off his zeros.

Mickey’s eyes flicker to them then back to Ian. “So? The whole soulmate concept is stupid. I’ve seen more cases where they don’t work out than the ones that do.”

“Yeah, not something you should tell an eight year old,” Ian mutters. He takes a sip of his beer and nods at Mickey’s left hand. “How’s the hand?”

Mickey holds up his still bandage-up hand. “I got the ex to change the bandages like you said. Ready for the stitches to be out.”

“I can look at it later and see how’s it healing. You need to be careful with it tonight and not tear the stitches out,” Ian tells him.

Mickey rolls his eyes at him. “Jesus Christ, you’re worse than V.”

Ian and Mickey continue to talk while Ian waits on his date. Mickey leaves him every so often to check on other customers and refill their drinks but he always makes his back to Ian. Over two hours later, Mickey looks at the watch. “I think you’ve been stood up, man.”

Ian looks down at his phone and groans. “Probably for the best. Lip isn’t going to be happy.”

“Not your fault the guy didn’t show.”

Ian shrugs. “Yeah, well.”

“Ian?”

Ian turns in his spot to see the tall, blond man from single’s group behind him. Blaine reaches his hand out. “I’m so sorry I’m late. My dog got away from me and I had to find him.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Ian shakes his hand then stands up, grabbing his beer. “Want to find a booth?”

“Yeah.”

Blaine orders a beer then follows Ian to a corner booth.

Thirty minutes later, Ian is back at the bar with an empty glass. Mickey walks over, taking the empty glass and filling it back up.

“Where’s the dude?” he asks. “What’s his name?” Mickey snaps his fingers, acting like he’s trying to remember Ian’s date’s name.

“Blaine,” Ian says, rolling his eyes. “Fucker ran off.”

Mickey raises his eyebrows, silently asking why.

Ian flips his wrist over, rubbing the zero tattoos. “I uh- told him about my bipolar disorder.”

“And that scared him off?” He has no reaction to Ian’s confession. Ian guesses he knows about his bipolar through Mandy.

Ian nods, drowning the beer. He sets the glass down, rubbing his head. “It’s a part of me and I’m not afraid of it anymore. I figured it would be better to be up front about it. I was wrong.”

“Fuck him, man.” Mickey places a bowl of mixed nuts in front of him and a glass of water, knowing Ian had his limit.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, taking a sip of water.

Ian wants to quit single’s group after the disaster of the blind date. Fiona tries to talk him out of it and Lip gives him another damn pamphlet. He rips the pamphlet up and quits the stupid single’s group. He doesn’t tell any of his siblings even though he knows Fiona would be supportive of his decision no matter what. Instead he spends those times at the Albi at the bar with Mickey.

Mickey and him develop a weird friendship over the weeks of Ian lying to his family. Ian even makes sure Mickey keeps his cut clean and takes the stitches out for him. Sometimes Ian thinks Mickey is flirting with him but then he remembers he was married to a woman and he must be seeing things.

One night, Ian is keeping Mickey company during his long shift at the Albi. He is sitting at his regular spot at the bar with a beer in hand, telling Mickey Debbie and Carl’s crazy antics this week when a small blur runs up.

“Daddy!” The blur squeaks and a small, blonde boy climbs up on the barstool, grinning up at Mickey. “Daddy, Mommy says I get to stay with you this weekend!”

Mickey raises his eyebrows, glancing at the front door where his ex-wife is walking in. “Yeah, you do. What’s our plans?”

“Stay up all night, watch movies, read, and eat candy!” The boy grins.

“Yevgeny, don’t run off like that again,” Svetlana scolds when she makes her way over to the bar.

“Sorry, Mommy.” The boy pouts, his eyes wide.

“I told you to drop him off after my shift. What’s he going to do for two hours?” Mickey asks, crossing his arms.

“You figure it out. I must work,” Svetlana retorts. She kisses Yevgeny’s head then is out of the door before Mickey can open his mouth.

“Shit,” Mickey curses under his breath.

Yevgeny gasps. “Daddy, no cursing!”

“Sorry, bud,” Mickey says as Ian laughs. Mickey glares at him. “Hey, Yev, why don’t you go upstairs and watch TV until I get off?”

“But Mommy said I can’t be left alone,” Yevgeny pouts.

“Then she should of thought of that before bringing you in the middle of my shift.”

“I can watch him,” Ian speaks up.

Mickey looks at him. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I’m not doing anything and I kept my brothers and sister all the time. Liam was basically raised by Fiona, Lip and I,” Ian says. He turns to the young boy and leans down. “Hey, Yevgeny. I’m your dad’s friend, Ian. Want to hang out with me while your daddy works? We can watch any movie you want.”

“Yeah!” Yevgeny shouts then turns to Mickey. “Can I, Daddy? Please?”

Mickey sighs. “Yeah, go.”

Yevgeny jumps off the barstool and runs up the stairs before Ian is off the stool. Ian laughs, shaking his head.

“Hey,” Mickey stops him before he heads up, handing him a water to replace his beer. “He’ll probably crash in like thirty minutes.”

Ian nods, taking the water and heading upstairs to join the boy.

Mickey is right, Yevgeny crashes within thirty minutes. Ian turns down the TV and watches it until Mickey comes stumbling upstairs around one in the morning. He thanks Ian, picks up the young boy, and both of them head out.

Ian’s barely at home and asleep when his phone starts ringing. He feels around for it, groaning when he sees the time is a little after three in the morning. “Hello?”

 “He’s burning up and I don’t know what to do!”

Ian groans, sitting up and looking around his dark room. “Mickey?”

 “I can’t take him to the hospital and I don’t know what to do.”

Ian groans, rubbing his hand down his face. “Mickey, calm down. And slow down. What’s wrong?”

 “It’s Yevgeny. He’s burning up.”

“I’m on my way.” Ian stumbles out of bed, throwing on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt then is out the door with his bag in hand. He makes his way to Mickey’s apartment in record time; Mickey’s waiting at the door with Yevgeny in his arms. Ian immediately takes the boy in his arms and lays him on the couch. He takes his temperature and cringes at the results.

“Mickey, he has a 102 fever. He needs to go to the emergency room,” Ian says.

Mickey crosses his arms and shakes his head. “No. He’s staying here, okay. You can help him.”

Ian sighs but doesn’t argue with him. He gives Yevgeny fever reducer and helps Mickey change him into some light clothes. Mickey takes him back to his bed and sits down beside the bed.

“Now what?” he asks, running his hands through Yevgeny’s hair.

“We wait, watch him to make sure he doesn’t get any worse, take his temperature again in a few hours, and make sure he stays hydrated,” Ian says.

“Fuck,” Mickey whispers, putting his head in his hands.

“I’ll be in the living room,” Ian tries to back out of the room but Mickey stops him, begging him to stay in case something happens. Ian argues with him but eventually gives up, pulling up a chair and sitting by the bed.

“Liam use to get fevers a lot,” Ian says after a few minutes. “He would get really fussy and we could never get him to sleep when he had one. We would take shifts, trying to get him to sleep but we would just end up on the couch with him watching late night TV.”

“Why did he get them so much?”

Ian shrugged. “He was sick a lot after Fiona’s soulmate left and the accident. It was also around the time of my diagnosis so a lot of it fell on Lip’s plate.”

“Accident?”

Ian glances up at Mickey’s question, raising his eyebrows. “You don’t know? I thought it was all over the neighborhood when it happened. Liam got into some cocaine Fiona left lying around. He was in the hospital for three days.”

“Shit,” Mickey whispers. “But he’s okay?”

Ian nods. “Yeah, perfectly healthy. Almost as smart as Lip. That whole time was a fucking disaster. I-uh,” Ian stops, looking down at his hands.  “I don’t remember a lot of it. That just sticks out the most.”

Mickey is silent and Ian’s sure he wants to ask him more questions but Ian avoids looking up. That part of his life seems too heavy for a guy he hangs out with when he lies to his family.

But Mickey doesn’t ask anymore questions. He stays silent. Ian finally breaks the silence and asks him a question. “Why didn’t you hear about it? Debbie said people talked about it for months especially when Fiona was arrested and almost lost guardianship of us.”

Mickey nods to Yevgeny. “This guy took up a lot of my time. Terry had just died and Svet forced me into getting a job over the table. Didn’t want to risk anything with this one.”

“I remember when Terry died,” Ian mumbles. “Mandy came to find me and we stayed up all night, drinking and smoking. Fiona and Lip got so mad at me when they found out I drank on my meds.”

Mickey was quiet, staring down at his son. “Thanks for being there for Mandy. I-uh-wasn’t there for her when she needed me.  I’m glad she had someone.”

Ian bowed his head. “I disappointed her. Left her when she needed me the most. I don’t deserve to have her as a best friend.”

“Hey, man, don’t do that to yourself,” Mickey shook his head. “Mandy loves you. More than me that’s for sure.”

Ian disagrees. “You’re her brother. She loves you.”

Mickey shrugs, running his hand through Yevgeny’s hair. "She told me what happened. She doesn't blame you. If she did, she would know."

Ian figures he was right. Mandy never holds back and always lets people know what she's thinking. Ian leans back in the chair, crossing his arms and trying to get comfortable, knowing it was going to be a long night. The next few hours, neither Mickey nor Ian sleep, instead they watch Yevgeny. The boy tosses and turns and wakes up two hours later, crying.

Ian takes his temperature and forces Yevgeny to drink water. Yevgeny whines and protests, reaching for Mickey. Mickey rubs his back and talks him into drinking a few sips of water. Yevgeny eventually obeys and takes a few sips. Ian tells him that he needs to drink the whole glass. After more protesting and crying, Yevgeny finishes the water and falls back to sleep.

“Shit, this is going to be a long night,” Mickey mumbles, tucking the boy back in.

Ian nods off in the chair, his shifts and late nights out catching up with him. He jerks awake when Yevgeny starts crying.

“He’s sweating,” Mickey tells him, holding the boy in his arms.

Ian groans, standing up. He walks over to Mickey and the boy, placing his hand on Yevgeny’s forehead. “His fever’s breaking.” He kneels down, moving his hand to Yevgeny’s neck. “Hey, bud, can I check your temperature again?”

Yevgeny whimpers but nods. He willingly lets Ian take him from Mickey. Ian adjusts Yevgeny in his arms and takes his temperature. He sighs in relief when the thermometer says 99 degrees.

“It’s almost back to normal,” he tells Mickey. “He should take another fever reducer in a few hours and he needs to drink more water but he’s going to be okay.”

Mickey sighs in relief and takes Yevgeny back in his arms. “Here that, buddy, you’re going to be fine.” Yevgeny sniffles and snuggles up against Mickey’s neck. Mickey kisses the side of his head and looks at Ian. “Thanks, man.”

“Yeah,” Ian nods, crossing his arms. His phone starts ringing and Ian curses as he pulls the phone out to see his sister’s name flashing across the screen. “Shit, it’s Fiona. She’s probably freaking out.”

“Go. I think I got this.”

“Are you sure? I can tell Fiona and stay until he’s temperature’s back to normal.”

Mickey shakes his head, adjusting Yevgeny in his arms. “I can handle him.”

“Okay,” Ian hesitates. “Call me if he gets any worse. I’ll be over later to check on him. If I can get away from Fiona that is.”

“Yeah, okay,” Mickey says. “Thanks again.”

Ian smiles and nods. He pats Yevgeny on the back before grabbing his jacket and heading back to his house. Fiona is pacing around the living room when he walks in the door.

“Ian! Holy fuck, where have you been?” she cries.

Ian ignores her, hanging up his coat and placing his bag down. He walks past her and into the kitchen, grabbing a mug and filling it up full of coffee. He takes a long sip before turning back to her.

“I was worried sick,” Fiona says, crossing her arms. “Where were you? Did you even come home last night?”

“Yes, I came home for a few hours but Mickey called around three. Yevgeny was running a fever and didn’t want to take him to the ER. I stayed at his house the rest of the night,” Ian explains, leaning against the counter.

“Jesus, is the kid okay?” Fiona calms down, leaning against the fridge.

“Yeah, his fever was down to 99 when you called. I’m going to get some sleep then go back by there later today.”

Fiona nods, looking down at the floor. She swings her foot a bit then crosses it over the other foot. She looks back up, sighing. “I’m sorry for freaking out. It’s just-”

“I get it, Fi,” he stops her, giving her a smile.

Fiona nods again, pushing herself off the fridge. “I have the dinner shift. Can you handle dinner?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fully awake by then.”

Fiona laughs, shaking her head as she walks away.

Ian finishes his cup of coffee, washes his mug, and heads upstairs to get some sleep. A few hours later, Debbie is shaking him awake. He groans, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “I’m up,” he mumbles.

“Mickey Milkovich is here to see you,” Debbie says, raising her eyebrows at him.

“What?”

“And you’re supposed to be handling dinner.”

Ian’s forehead furrows in confusion. “What?”

Debbie rolls her eyes, throwing her hands up in annoyance. “Jesus Christ,” she mumbles as she turns around and leaves.

Ian groans, rubbing his head. He stands up, grabbing a sweatshirt and throwing it on before heading downstairs. Debbie is right. Mickey is standing in their kitchen. Carl is sitting at the barstool, watching him very intently.

“Hey,” Ian greets, walking over to the fridge and pulling out things he needed for supper. “How’s Yevgeny?”

“He’s better. Svetlana freaked out when I told her and picked him up.” Ian can feel his eyes on him as he looks through the fridge.

He shuts the fridge door, spinning around to face Mickey. “Shit, sorry, man. There goes your weekend with him.”

Mickey shrugs. “Depending on how he feels, she’ll probably drop him off Monday.”

“That’s good,” Ian turns to Carl. “Go get Liam and you two need to gather all your dirty clothes and start washing them.”

Carl turns up his nose. “Do we have to?”

“Yes, and Debbie too.”

Carl groans, not moving from his spot.

“Carl, go,” Ian raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms.

Carl sighs and gets up, running up the stairs and yelling for Liam and Debbie.

Ian rolls his eyes at the noise, turning the oven on to preheat. “Sorry about that. Fiona’s working tonight so I’m on kid duty.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Mickey mumbles, chewing on his thumbnail. “Hey, um, thanks for everything. Svet and I can’t really afford the emergency room and neither one of us has insurance.”

“I get it,” Ian answers, gesturing to the house and all the work that needs to be done to it. “We only got insurance maybe five years ago.”

“But anyway, thanks. It means a lot that you came over to help,” Mickey continues chewing his thumbnail. “I -uh don’t really know how to repay you.”

Ian stops what he’s doing and turns to Mickey. “Repay me? Mickey, I’m just helping out a friend. It’s no big deal.”

“Yeah, but I feel like I owe you, man. I mean, you helped my kid.”

Ian leans against the counter, crossing his arms and cocking his head. There it was again. He still can't tell if Mickey is flirting with him so Ian takes matters into his own hands. “How about a drink then? With you not behind a bar?”

“Uh, yeah, okay.”

The corner of Ian’s mouth turns up in a smile when he sees Mickey blush. “Great. Fiona gets off at ten. Meet you at the Albi at 10:30?”

“Yeah,” Mickey nods. “Yeah, see you then.” He nods at Ian one more time then walks out.

Ian grins, watching him walk out.

“What’s wrong with your face?”

Ian jerks out of his thoughts to find Debbie, Carl, and Liam staring at him with their arms full of laundry. “What?”

“You have this dopey look on your face,” Carl says, arching his eyebrows. “You look high. Are you?”

"What? No!"

“Do you like Mickey Milkovich?” Debbie asks, raising her eyebrows.

“What? We’re just friends,” Ian turns around and continues cooking supper, trying to ignore his younger siblings.

“Since when?” He hears Debbie ask.

“Just start a load of laundry and can someone help with the dirty dishes?”

Ian makes it through dinner and the rest of the night without the kids bothering him. When Fiona gets home, Ian bundles up and heads out to meet Mickey at the Albi. He spots Mickey in a corner booth, already nursing a beer.

“Hey,” Ian greets, shedding off a few layers. “Jesus, it’s freezing out. Going outside nowadays takes a lot of effort.”

“Yeah, dressing the kid has been a pain lately,” Mickey agrees. “I had to come in for a little bit to help Kev out so I didn’t order you anything.”

“That’s okay. I’ll flag him down.” Ian gets Kev’s attention and gestures for two beers. Kev nods and a few minutes later, he squeezes his way over with two beers.

“Hey, man,” Kev slaps Ian across the back after setting the beers down. “Lip said you joined a single’s group. Good for you, man.”

Mickey snorts into his beer.

“Yeah, about that,” Ian starts. “I quit going. It was all straight people anyway.”

“Well, I’m sure Lip can find you a LG- whatever the fuck it is now, group,” Kev responds.

“God, no,” Ian cringes. “Those things are too fucking depressing.”

“Fiona seemed to have luck.”

Ian rolls his eyes. “Fiona can have luck with anything that walks.”

Kev gasps as Mickey almost falls over in laughter. “That’s your sister!” Kev yells like it’s the biggest scandal he’s heard.

“Exactly why I can say it,” Ian shrugs. “She would have said the same about me a few years ago.”

“Does Lip know you quit?” Kev asks, changing the subject.

Ian shakes his head. “Neither does Fiona. And you cannot tell, Kev, I mean it. If I get another pamphlet, I swear to God, I will burn them and then kill Lip.”

Kev throws his hands up in surrender, backing slowly away from the table. Ian rolls his eyes and turns back to Mickey who is still laughing.

“Jesus, Gallagher. I thought the pills were supposed to help the crazy.”

Ian laughs. “They’re family.” It’s a simple explanation that Mickey seems to get.

“Ever hear from that Blaine guy again?” Mickey asks, changing the subject.

Ian snorts. “Fuck that dude. Fuck all of them. Fuck dating.”

“Wow, someone hasn’t had any luck,” Mickey grins.

“I’ve been on maybe a total of five dates in the last three years and they have all ended very badly. One fucker cried over his dead soulmate the whole time.”

Mickey sucks in a breathe. “Yikes.”

Ian takes a long sip of his beer then nods at Mickey’s right wrist. “What about you?”

Mickey shrugs. “With Yev, I didn’t get a lot of opportunities to date. Svet set me up with this one guy that called me by his soulmate’s name when we fucked.”

“Holy fuck.” Ian's mind starts racing. Mickey is gay and he was probably flirting with him.

“Yeah, that didn’t end well.”

Ian shudders at the thought. “Yeah, well I guess you take what you can get when your soulmate abandoned you.”

“That’s for sure,” he says. “But you had time with your soulmate, right?”

Ian shrugs. “Some. He didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“Fuck,” Mickey whispers. “This got real depressing. Want a shot?”

“God, yes.”

Mickey motions for Kev to bring them shots. Two shots and two beers later, the lights of the Albi are starting to get to Ian. The noise is too much and he can barely focus on Mickey. He keeps staring at the man causing him to look away.

“I need to head out,” Ian says, slowly standing up. “Fiona’s going to freak.”

“Let me give you a ride,” Mickey says, standing up as well and walking beside him.

The cold air hits hard when Ian opens up the door. He shivers and pulls his coat tighter. “Fuck, it’s cold.”

“Looks like it might snow again,” Mickey says, looking up at the overcast sky. He nods over to the left. “I parked over here.”

The walk to his car is silent. Ian struggles trying to open the passenger door before he gives up and lets Mickey open it for him. When Mickey gets in, he cranks the heat up for him then tosses him a bag of goldfish that he had in his dashboard.

“Sober up, man, so your sister doesn’t kill me or you.”

Ian takes the goldfish and eats them quietly on the way to his house. Ian knows Mickey has an apartment that is out of the way from his house but doesn’t say anything about it.

Mickey pulls up in front of the house and turns the car off. The house is dark and quiet for once and Ian just stares up at it.

“Walk me up and make sure I don’t fall?” Ian immediately regrets the question as soon as it’s out of his mouth. But when Mickey nods, there’s no turning back now.

He trips over all the stairs up to the house and Mickey catches his elbow each time.

“Shit, man, can you make it up the stairs to your room?” Mickey asks, watching Ian stumble to unlock the door.

Ian makes a low humming noise and finally opens the door. Mickey follows him inside, softly closing the door. Ian catches Mickey’s eyes and suddenly they are staring at each other, not sure what to do. Ian’s eyes flicker to Mickey’s lips and that seems to give Mickey the confidence to step forward. Ian’s head is buzzing and not sure what to make of it until their lips meet. He finds himself pushed up against the door and gasps when the doorknob digs into his back but he pulls Mickey closer.

They make out in front of the door for what seems like hours until Ian leads Mickey up to his room. Ian trips on the stairs but he doesn’t let go of Mickey until Mickey falls back on Ian’s too small of a bed.

They stare at each other for a long time then Ian is pulling off his shirt and pressing his mouth back to Mickey's. It’s been so long since he’s been held like this, kissed like this. He never wants it to end.

“Fuck, how old is this mattress?” Mickey groans, sitting up and grabbing his back.

Ian sits up slightly, watching Mickey move around. “I think we found it on the street before Liam was born.”

“Fuck, no. Next time, we go to my place. I have a fucking king size that’s only a year old,” Mickey says, throwing his shirt on. “And Jesus, does your heat not work?”

“Next time?” Ian’s face breaks out in a huge grin and he scoots to the edge of the bed, trying to find his own shirt.

Mickey clears his throat and doesn’t say anything until he zips up his pants and turns to face Ian. “If that’s okay?”

Ian tugs on Mickey’s belt loops, pulling him to meet his lips. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

#shameless #shameless fanfiction #shameless fic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #my stories #my fics

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Bad Dreams

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 19428

Summary: In a state of nightmare induced sleep deprivation, Simon tries a new spell, and it leads to unexpected, terrible results. Can he work with his worst enemy to fix it? Based on "there's only one bed and we wake up cuddling" request.

Read on AO3

AN: Hello! I'm so sorry this took so long. Basically my life has been a mess for weeks. Furiously job hunting, bad headaches, not sleeping well, and a new medication that gave me some really bad side effects. I could only write about a page a day for a week, which is very low for me, and it became longer than intended. But I finished it! Thanks to @carryonmylovelies for her endless support and invaluable help. This fic wouldn't exist without her, and I mean that. Now hope you guys like this :)

———————————————

Simon

“Pen,” I yawn, “what are we doing out here?” I’m rubbing my eyes like a toddler. I didn’t sleep well last night, or the night before. (I don’t sleep well any night, really.) But usually I’m taking a shower or in bed by now. But Pen has dragged me outside into the fall chill tonight for some reason.

“To work on ‘all parts make the whole’,” she replies, like it’s totally obvious we should be doing this, even though the drawbridge is closing in twenty minutes.

“Why?”

She looks at me over her glasses. “Do you not remember today in elocution class?”

My faces goes a bit red. I rub the back of my neck. “I didn’t mean to make the vase go all...goopy...”

“I know, Simon,” she sighs. “That’s why you should practice.”

“What’s even the point of this spell?” I grumble.

“To fix things, put them back together and all.”

“Isn’t that what ‘as you were’ is for?”

“‘As you were’ works best for things that have just been broken. This spells is for stuff that’s been really badly broken for awhile. And I’ve got the perfect thing.”

She pulls out a checkered napkin and lays it on a tree stump. A bunch of random shiny silver pieces and hot pink plastic spread out around the fabric. At first I think she brought a bunch of random junk, but despite what a certain vampire thinks, I’m not a total idiot. When I see little black arrows, I realise what it is.

“How long have you been holding on to a bunch of broken watch pieces, Pen?”

“It’s not mine,” she scoffs. “It’s Pacey’s. He stepped on it a year ago and it’s been sitting in his junk drawer ever since. He’s a bloody hoarder, never throws anything out.”

“And you have it because...?”

“Snatched it up at Christmas for practice. Thought it would be for me, but it’s perfect for you. Now,” she points at the broken pieces, “put it back together, Simon”

I chew on my lip and spin my wand. It’s clumsy and slow like everything I do with my wand. I just hope I don’t blow anything up today. I don’t want to hurt Penny. Slowly, I point the already glowing tip of my wand down at the pieces.

“All the parts make the whole!” I say, not with too much magic so I won’t destroy the entire woods. But apparently it isn’t enough to actually, y’know, do the spell. The magic fizzles out like a faulty firecracker. I shake my arm, trying to put more magic out, but nothing. I frown and I feel like a little kid, but I can’t help it. Years later, and it’s still a bit disappointing that I’m such a shite mage.

“Hm,” Penny says thoughtfully, rubbing her chin, “wonder what’s blocking up your power.”

“When is it not blocked up?” I grumble.

“Well, when you go off I guess.”

Dammit, she’s right. Either I explode or nothing happens at all. I slump forward with a pout. Agatha says I slouch too much and it’s going to ruin my posture. Well, that is, she used to. Until we broke up last week. That wound is still a bit raw.

I feel Penny’s arm wrap around mine. She presses her cheek against my shoulder. It’s nice when she does that. It’s nice to know she’s not afraid of me.

“You’ll get it eventually, Si,” she says kindly.

I lean on top of her head. “Thanks, Pen.”

I really am grateful, but fuck, I wish I could believe her.

———————————————

I'm slowly working my way through the requests, but I'm starting my new job next week so it may be a bit of a wait for the next one. See y'all again hopefully soon :D

When I get back to my room, I’m hoping to just toss the napkin sack of watch parts in a corner and go to bed. But of course he’s there, sitting at his desk, doing his homework like some goody two shoes. Acting like he isn’t an evil plotting vampire.

“What’s that Snow?” he asks, grey eyes fixed on the tied up napkin. “Your hobo sack?”

I’ve had a long day, filled with failing at magic classes then failing at Penny’s spell, so I’m far, far too tired to deal with Baz’s bollocks. So I just make a noise at him and stomp towards my bed. He scoffs very loudly.

“Eloquent as ever, I see.”

“Fuck off,” I growl.

“Oh, two words, a Simon Snow rarity. I feel so honoured.”

Though part of me really wants to yell or punch him, I’m too tired to start a fight. Plus the stupid Anathema. And I need a shower. So I just throw the watch pieces into my pile of laundry, snatch up some mostly clean pyjama pants, and my towel. Baz can go eat his stupid homework for all I care.

The shower is really nice. The warm water is really relaxing, making all my tense muscles slowly unwind. I had a really bad nightmare last night. It was a familiar one though. I was back in the care home and I went off, but this time everyone wasn’t safe. They all burned. Because of me. And I had to watch.

I shake the images out of my head, then finish washing up. I’m almost tempted to use some of Baz’s fancy products to treat myself, but he’ll smell it. Stupid rich vampire with his stupid vampire senses. Maybe the day before graduation I’ll swipe some shampoo, just as one last “fuck you” to the guy who’s made my life hell for over seven years. Petty as fuck but effective in my opinion.

I get out before the water turns cold and towel off. My hair doesn’t get fully dry. It never does, it’s so bloody thick. It holds more water than a sponge. I make I’ve got my trousers on before I go outside. Despite living together for so long, Baz and I have never been naked in front of each other. I’m not changing that any time soon.

When I get out, Baz is sitting on his bed, back against the wall, holding a book. It’s some weird nonfiction shit that I can’t even fathom being entertaining. His eyes flick up to me.

“Finally,” he says flatly. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry I kept you waiting, your majesty,” I grumble.

“As you should be. I shouldn’t suffer because the Chosen One needs to get off in the shower.”

My entire face goes tomato red. Holy shit, I cannot believe he just said that. I want to say something mean rude in return, but no words come out as usual. I’m just gaping at Baz like a bright scarlet fish. He just keeps glaring at me, totally unfazed by his implication that I was fucking wanking in the shower with him right there.

“F-Fuck off,” I say, far too weakly to make any impact, then turn around. Fuck, he might think he’s actually right. He’s not, I’m just too tired and shocked and embarrassed to fight him. I hate that Baz can do this to me. Make me feel even more wordless and stupid than I already feel all the time.

I hang up my towel, toss my clothes in my overflowing hamper, and flop down heavily on my bed. I stare at the blank wall so I don’t have to look at Baz. I hear him get up from his bed and pad his way over to the bathroom then close the door. Like he’s one to complain about taking long in the bathroom. He always spends twenty minutes just washing his stupid perfect face. I close my eyes tight, and try to force myself to sleep. Hopefully the nightmares won’t be too bad tonight.

———————————————

Baz

The second the bathroom door is closed, I allow myself to panic. I press a hand to my erratic heartbeat and take a shaky breath. Merlin, Morgana, and Methuselah, what the everloving fuck is wrong with me?! Why did I say that?! Why did I imply that Snow was wanking in the shower out loud?! Of course I was thinking about it, much to my eternal shame. But then I fucking said it!

I’m usually so much better. I’ve spent years building up my self control, especially when it comes to bloody Snow. I must be far too tired. My nightmares have been waking me up in the middle of the night, then I toss and turn for hours.

(When I’m particularly weak from exhaustion, I stare at Snow. Sometimes watching the slow movement of his chest lulls me back into slumber. It’s just his breathing, the steady, calming rhythm of it, nothing to do with him. At least that’s what I try to tell myself.)

I lean back on the door, thumping my head against it as softly as possible. As if being a vampire wasn’t bad enough, I’m completely disastrous just as a person. I couldn’t at least be a wise or courageous blood sucking monster. No, I’m a pathetic one who lets his unfortunate crush know he thinks about him wanking then goes and panics in the toilet, all because he lost a bit of sleep. The universe is never kind to me.

Enough whining, Basil, I can almost hear Fiona say, Pitches don’t mope. Well, this Pitch does, but she would be right. There’s no point in staying here forever, even though I would like to. I push myself off the door and go to the sink. Snow thinks my nightly routine takes far too long. He doesn’t understand the trials of proper skincare and dental hygiene. (Considering Snow’s sugary diet and the fact that he only spends thirty seconds brushing in the morning, I’m surprised all his perfect teeth haven’t fallen out yet.) (Wonderful lucky idiot.)

Once I’m done, it’s time to re-enter my personal hell, which is always wherever Snow is. I cautiously stick my head out, and to my relief, Snow is asleep. He’s facing the opposite wall, curled up in his usual knot. With my vampire vision, I can see his face in the dark. It’s all twisted up in anguish. Nightmares, again. I wish I could walk over there and somehow kiss all his bad dreams away. Not that he would want me to. Not that I even could. I’m a dark creature designed to kill. Not exactly made to comfort.

I silently walk over to bed. Luckily I was able to feed after supper, so I’ll sleep easy tonight. Well, as easy as I can. I lay down and pull up all my blankets. I take one last glance at Snow’s broad, freckled back, then reluctantly look back at the bland wall. I slip into slumber too, listening to the faint sound of Snow’s breathing.

———————————————

Simon

It’s burning. The White Chapel, the Cloisters, Mummer’s House, everything. I stand completely still on the great field surrounded by fire. All of watford is burning, and it’s all my fault.

“You did this, Simon,” Penny says. She’s suddenly standing right in front of me. She’s not smiling or frowning. Her face is blank. And that’s somehow worse.

“I-I didn’t mean to!” I try to yell, but my voice is so small.

“But you did, Simon.” The Mage is here too now. His arms are crossed over his chest. He looks down on me like he always does.

“It was an accident!”

“Accident or not, it doesn’t matter.” He glares harder, blue eyes like icy daggers. “You should learn to control yourself better.”

“I-I’m sorry,” I sob. Tears are flowing freely down my face. “I-I- I can’t- What do-”

“Use your words, Snow,” Baz hisses, a sneer on his lips. I try to talk, but my voice is completely gone. Baz rolls his eyes. “Truly the worst Chosen One that’s ever been chosen.”

I keep trying and trying to speak but it’s hopeless. I hear a childish giggle, but it sounds wrong. Warped, weird, pure evil. I look up. Sitting on the burning White Chapel is him, and he looks like, tossing my old red ball.

“Looks like you did my job for me,” the Humdrum chirps, “thanks, Simon.”

I scream. But no sound comes out as the fire engulfs me.

———————————————

I wake up with a gasp. My limbs feel heavy, unable to move. I have to lay there panting, tears streaming down my face, while my body comes back online. It’s a freaky feeling to be frozen like that. But eventually, I’m able to twitch a finger, and sensation slowly creeps through my body. I let out a long sigh and stretch out in a arch. I blink the gum away from my eyes to see faint light. From the looks of it, it’s barely six am. And I feel like absolute shit. It’s like I didn’t sleep at all, again. Fucking hell, today is going to suck, again.

I get out of bed and accidentally knock into quite a bit of furniture as I stumble to the bathroom. I hear a groan from the lump of blankets that’s supposedly Baz. He hates when I wake him up. Well, I didn’t ask to share a room with his posh vampiric arse, so he can just fucking deal with it.

When I’m done in the bathroom, Baz is already up. He’s rubbing his face up and down, then he glares at me. Are there bags under his eyes? Guess he had nightmares too. We both have them, it kind of sucks.

“Did I take too long again?” I grumble.

Baz scowls. “I thought heroes were supposed to be all compassionate and shit, yet you always wake me up at the ass crack of dawn.”

I scowl right back. “I thought vampires slept in coffins.”

He scoffs, though he looks so tired it loses a bit of impact. “I don’t know about that, Snow, go ask one.”

He grabs his perfectly folded uniform and stands up, knocking my shoulder as he passes. Apparently, my magic decides to flare up in anger at that exact moment, because Baz jolts away with a furious look on his face.

“Control yourself, Chosen One,” he growls. “Crowley, your magic is so useless.”

It’s too early for me to come up with another retort, so I just focus on getting dressed. Baz scoffs unkindly then goes back to the bathroom. Once he’s gone, I allow myself to fall into a bit of self pity. I hate it but he’s right. I’m useless at magic. I’m a terrible mage. I can’t control my power or even cast a bloody spell. And one day, I’m going to burn everything to the ground.

I get dressed as quickly as possible. (Don’t want Baz to see me, duh.) When he comes out, he’s got his hair slicked back and uniform all pristine. He gives me one last sneer, grabs his bookbag, and stomps off. I don’t know where the fuck he’s going. Breakfast isn’t for another half hour. Whatever, as long as he’s not fucking here.

As I’m collecting my school stuff (which is...everywhere), I come across the weird makeshift bag filled with Pacey’s broken watch pieces. Just looking at it makes my blood boil, reminding me of my stupid failure. Baz’s harsh words are still ringing in my ear. Y’know what? Fuck him, the stupid vampire prick. I snatch up the napkin and open it on my bed.

With wand in hand, I stare down at the pieces. I try to focus on the fact that they’re supposed to be together. I point at them as steadily as I can.

“All the parts make the whole,” I say, and my voice is booming. I feel my power rush down my arm, through my wand, and right into the watch pieces. They start to pull together, going back into place, becoming whole. I smile broadly. It worked! For once, my magic worked! Fuck yes! Take that, Tyrannus.

Wait, why isn’t it stopping? The watch is fully assembled, but my magic is still flowing out of me in a roaring wave. I try to let go of my wand, but my hand won’t budge. I can’t even move it out of place. What the actual fuck?! I feel the the magic go past the watch and into the mattress beneath. My bed starts glowing gold. The light gets brighter and brighter, but I can’t stop it. Wait, is Baz’s bed glowing too?! I shield my eyes just before there’s a blinding flash of light.

And then, nothing. The whole room is deadly silent.

Slowly, I pull my hand down, blinking the spots from my vision. Once I see what’s happened, my jaw falls open and I drop my wand. Oh shit. Instead of two single beds as far as possible, there’s one double bed, merged together. One side has the sheets kicked down, and the other has a million quilts.

“Fuck,” I whisper. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

I start pacing back and forth, pulling at my hair with one hand and chewing my nails on the other. How the fuck did I do that?! Is my magic getting that insane? More importantly, how the fuck do I fix it? I have no fucking clue.

But I know who might.

———————————————

Penelope

It starts as a totally normal day. For once, there’s nothing exciting or life threatening. It’s a bit of a welcome change, honestly, especially after the terrifying insanity at the end of last term. But when I see Simon running towards me in the dining hall at breakfast, not even stopping to grab a scone, I know something’s up.

“Penny, Penny,” he pants, leaning over me with wide eyes, “I need your help.”

“Is it the Humdrum?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No, no, it’s- it’s just- Come with me, please.”

He sounds scared, and incredibly desperate. I get up immediately. “Okay, I’ll go.”

Simon immediately turns and starts jogging. I follow behind him. My mind is racing with what the fuck is going on. What could make Simon panic so much? I would say the Humdrum, (especially after what we found out), but he said it wasn’t that. He wouldn’t lie. So what else? Maybe Baz sneezed on him by accident and Simon now thinks he’s a zombie. That could unfortunately be a possibility.

We climb all the way up to Simon and Baz’s room at the top of Mummer’s House. Luckily everyone is in the dining hall so I don’t get noticed going in. The second Simon throws the door open, I know exactly why he was panicking.

“Crowley,” I gasp.

“Yeah,” he says. “I know.”

I walk up to double bed. It’s obvious what happened. The blankets and sheets are mismatched, as well as weirdly melded together in the middle like two paints that had been mixed on a palette. One side has a bunched up Watford issue grey wool blanket at the bottom, and has a literal mountain of covers. (Three guesses who’s side is who’s.) I walk forward and cautiously touch the middle. It doesn’t feel sewn or melted. It feels like it’s one thing and always has been.

“How did this happen?” I ask.

Simon is pulling at his hair, making it messier than it already is. “I-I was trying that spell again, y’know that one with the watch. And it worked, but then my magic wouldn’t stop, a-and there was a big flash and then...this happened.”

“‘All parts make the whole’ did...this?!” I’m flabbergasted. I’ve never heard of that spell doing anything close to this.

“Yeah, but I don’t know how! There was just all this light and-and I don’t know what to do!”

I rub my forehead, trying to push out the tension in my muscles. “Have you tried any spells?

“N-No. I just went to go get you...”

He looks ashamed. I sigh and pat his arm. That calms him down a bit, but not a lot. “Let me try some separating spells, okay?”

Simon nods. “Okay, thank you.”

I give him one more pat and adjust my ring. “Welcome, Si. Now step back.”

He does as I say. I roll my shoulders sand try to conjure every separation spell in my mind. Considering Simon’s magic, I might need all of them.

“As you were,” I say, forcing in as much power as possible. The magic flows out from my ring, I can feel it, but when it hits the bed, nothing happens. All the energy fizzles out. Fuck, that’s frustrating. I guess this is how Simon feels when his magic decides to not work.

“Break in two!” Once again, nothing.

“Go our separate ways!” Nothing.

“Split it down the middle!” Nada.

“Divide it fifty fifty!” Bupkus!

I sigh and lower my hand. It’s not working. Nothing I do is affecting Simon’s strange, erratic magic. “Nicks and slicks,” I groan. “Those are all the ones I know off the top of my head.”

Simon strumbles past me, then sits heavily on his side of the now double bed with a look of absolute terror. “Baz is going to kill me,” he says, voice shaky. “This is what’s going to make him finally snap and drain all my blood.”

I sit down next to him, putting a hand on his back. “He’s not going to kill you, Si.”

“For this?!” He flails wildly, indicating the Franken-bed I suppose. “Yeah, he fucking would, Pen.”

“Simon, I doubt Baz would-”

“What the absolute fuck is this, Snow!?”

We both look up, and yup, there’s the man himself. Baz’s jaw is firmly on the ground and his eyes are burning more brightly than his fire. I can feel Simon seize up. I don’t blame, even I’m a bit freaked out. Baz is powerful mage and he looks beyond furious.

“Uh, Baz-” Simon starts. “I-I didn’t- It’s not- Uh-”

“Stop stuttering, you numpty, and tell me what the fuck happened!” Baz starts marching towards us, but I stand up before he gets close. I glare at him, a hand on his chest to keep him away from Simon. Surprisingly, and luckily, he stops.

“Baz, it was an accident,” I say firmly.

“An accident?! How did he screw up this royally?!”

Simon stands up, wringing his hands. “I-I was trying a spell! And it went...weird.”

“Weird?” Baz hisses. “‘Weird’ is changing a shirt from white to polka dots. This is a fucking nightmare! You merged our bloody beds together!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“I don’t care!”

“Enough!” I shout. “Both of you, calm the fuck down. Baz, it was an accident, so there’s no point in getting angry. Simon, we both know that you didn’t mean to do this, so Baz is not going to hurt you.” I glare at Baz. “Right?”

Baz growls, low and angry, almost animalistic. It makes me almost believe Simon’s insane ramblings about vampirism. Simon doesn’t look reassured at all. I push the two of them further apart. For their safety and mine.

“We can’t fix it right at this moment,” I say. I have to push harder on Baz. “But we can fix it eventually. Until then, you two need to be on truce. No fighting, no yelling, and absolutely no killing or attempted killing. Understood?’

“But-” Simon starts.

“No but’s, Si.”

“What about-” Baz starts this time.

“And no what abouts, Basil! Truce, no questions. Both of you understand that?”

They look at each other over my head. (Damn being short.) I don’t have to look up to feel them glaring. The tension is thicker than Simon’s beloved butter and I could cut it with his sword. I feel like an intruder on their constant fighting. Though really, they’re barely noticing my existence.

“Fine,” Baz says from between gritted teeth.

“Fine,” Simon echoes, spitting the words out like they’re sour.

“Good.” I let up some of the pressure on their chests. “Now shake on it and I’ll spell it”

Baz scowls. “Is that really necessary?”

I roll my eyes and look at Simon. “Do you trust Baz?”

“No!” he replies instantly.

I look back at Baz. “And do you trust Simon?” He doesn’t reply, but I already know the answer. “Exactly. Now shake on it.”

Slowly, cautiously, I step out from between them, and thankfully they don’t immediately go for each other’s throats. Simon offers his hand first. Baz looks at him. His lip twitches, but he takes it.

“I promise I won’t harm you,” Baz mutters.

“I promise I won’t harm you either,” Simon says just as reluctantly.

I point my ring at their joined hands. “An English man’s word is his bond.”

Their hands glow blueish-purple for a second, the colour of my magic. The spell honestly won’t do much if, maybe make their arms go numb for a few days if they try to throw a punch. But hopefully the threat of punishment is enough to keep these two idiots from throttling each other. I have no clue how they’re going to figure out sleeping arrangements. But that’s their problem. I’m going to have my own issues sorting through spell books.

“There,” I put my hands on my hips, “truce is magically made.”

Baz pulls away like Simon’s touch is burning him. Simon puts his hands in his trouser pockets, looking like a kicked puppy. Poor guy. Of course I believe it was an accident. Simon wouldn’t do this on purpose. He’s probably so embarrassed. I’ll give him a hug later.

“I’ll keep looking for spells,” I say. “Right now, we should get a little breakfast before class, okay?”

“Fine.” Baz snatches up his bag and a notebook from his desk. Guess that’s why he came back. Well, it’s a good thing I was here when he confronted Simon, or the Anathema probably would’ve tossed both these idiots out a window.

Baz storms out. Simon and I follow behind. He’s still all slumped and pouty. I put an arm around his back, and he leans against me a bit. This is all going to be alright. I know it is. It has to be...

———————————————

Simon

I spend the rest of the day on the edge. Sometimes quite literally. I nearly fall out of my chair once from sitting too far on the side and jittering my leg too hard. I try not to think about it, but I can’t. Fuck, what am I going to do? How are we going to sleep tonight? More importantly, what the fuck is Baz going to do to me once Penny isn’t there to protect me? I wonder if the Anathema will actually protect me. I doubt it. It won’t do much if Baz drains all my blood.

Surprisingly, Baz doesn’t try to kill me during class, or even glare at me all the time. He actually pointedly avoids looking at me, focusing on his work and food. Everytime I look up he’s hunched over something. Maybe he’s busy plotting the most gruesome way to kill me. I try to not think about that too hard, for the sake of my sanity.

Unfortunately the day eventually ends. I’m extremely reluctant to go back to my room. Penny apparently can’t let me hide in her closet for the night, which is one of the worst things that has happened in my life. I make sure to drag my feet as much as I can on the way back to Mummer’s. It takes me twenty minutes to ascend the stairs of the tower. I slowly push the door open and poke my head in. I breathe a very long sigh of relief when I hear the shower going. Weird, Baz showers in the mornings, but I’m not complaining. The inevitable fight is put off for at least a bit.

I quickly throw on my pyjama trousers, as well as a shirt for once. I have no clue what the sleeping arrangements are going to be but I feel like I should be fully covered. I cautiously sit on the side that was my bed, making sure I don’t even touch Baz’s side. He would probably smell it. Stupid vampire senses.

Only a few minutes later, Baz emerges from the bathroom, hair slicked back, a cloud of steam behind him. Seriously, could he be anymore of a black and white movie vampire? He’s dressed in his grey silk pyjamas, the ones that match his eyes. Which are currently narrowed at me in contempt.

“What do you think you’re doing, Snow?” he asks bitingly.

I look around, trying to find specifically what I’ve fucked up this time. But it doesn’t seem like I’ve done anything for once. “Um...sitting?”

He crosses his arms. “I am not sleeping on the floor. My back isn’t suffering because of your magical fuck up.”

“Oh,” I squeak. We hadn’t talked, but I guess one of us is sleeping on the floor. That makes sense. Sorta. “W-Why can’t we, like, share? The bed is big enough to fit us both without touching.”

His eyes go wide and his mouth drops open like I just slapped him. I don’t see it as that unreasonable. I mean, I don’t trust him, but the floor doesn’t look comfortable. “Absolutely not,” he hisses. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with you, I’m not sharing a bloody bed.”

I humph, blowing hair out of my face. “Fine. But how am I supposed to sleep? We only have one mattress now...”

He squints, but not in anger this time. It’s the same expression he has during a difficult exam. His grey eyes flit around for a bit before settling on me again. “Did all the blankets meld?”

I stick my hand under the Franken-blanket, and feel a few of Baz’s fleeces. They still seem small. “Uh, no, some are still separate.”

“Good. Take those, gather them up on the floor, sleep on them.”

My jaw falls open. “Seriously?!”

“Yes, seriously. You’re the Chosen One, you can survive sleeping on the floor until we fix your fuck up.”

I open my mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. I can’t think of anything. Baz just keeps glaring at me. Fuck, I can’t fight back. He’ll take my every word and turn it back on me like always. So I just grumble as I start gathering up some of Baz’s stupid blankets and my pillow, all of which I dump on the floor while scowling at Baz. He looks totally unaffected. Typical.

As I gather up the blankets into a makeshift bed, Baz just gets under the big blanket, gathering it around himself in his typical cocoon. He’s probably going to be shivering all night. Suck it you plotting vampire.

The blankets don’t really work as a proper bed but, well, it’s better than nothing I guess. I sink into my pillow, sleep starting to creep over me. Baz spells the lights off without another word, as usual. He’ll probably sneak off to the catacombs to feed soon. Or maybe bite me. (He better not bite me.)  I’m not comfortable at all. I hope Penny can fix this soon.

———————————————

Baz

I don’t know where I am. It’s just dark, and smokey, and smells of blood. Slowly, I look down at my hands. Red drips from my fingertips. It’s me. I’m the blood smell.

“Basil,” a voice croaks, “why?”

I look down. My mother lays there at my feet. She’s filthy, hands helplessly covering the gushing wound on her neck. Her eyes are wide and confused.

“Mum?” I whisper. It’s been so long since I said that. I’ve always called Daphne “mother.” Only Natasha Grimm-Pitch has ever been called “mum” by me.

“Why are you like this, Basil?” she asks through a sob.

I kneel next to her, bloody hands hovering over her. “I-I didn’t mean to. I never asked to be a vampire.”

“You’re a monster.”

“I don’t want to be!”

“You’re not my son. Not anymore”

“Yes, I am!” I cry out, and suddenly my voice is small. That of a five year old child’s. The age she died.

“Monster,” she chokes out. Then the last gush of blood falls from her skin, and I watch the light die from her grey eyes. I’m reduced to body wracking sobs over her corpse. My tiny, five year old hands can only hold onto her so tight. My sobs become whimpers and groaning and panting breaths.

But, wait, those aren’t my sounds. That’s not my voice.

———————————————

My eyes slowly blink open in the darkness. At first I think the blood I drank after Snow fell asleep is waking me up to piss. But with my stupid vampire senses, I can see quite well. and I can see Simon Snow. I’ve rolled over to his side of the bed in my sleep. (It smells like him, smoke and sweet things. My unconscious is such an arsehole) He’s no more than a foot away and below me, whimpering and groaning and panting on his floor blankets.

He looks like he always does at night, sleeping in a knot with his face screwed up in pain. But I can see it even clearer now. He’s thrashing quite a lot. Rolling back and forth, fingers flexing, face all pulled together in pain. Fuck, I hate seeing him in pain. And he looks so scared and hurt right now. I want to help him. But he would never, ever want my help.

Snow whimpers pathetically, and I watch tears fall down his cheeks. Shit.

I lean over the side, close to him. “Snow,” I whisper, but there’s no change.

“Snow,” I whisper louder. He twitches but still doesn’t wake up. Shit, he looks to be in even more distress.

“Snow!” No change. In fact, he’s starting to get worse. He’s crying harder. It makes my heart shatter.

I reach down and poke him. “Snow, it’s a bad dream, just wake up.”

He’s panting, crying, and thrashing more. I can’t leave them like this, but I can’t do anything else right? Snow lets out a sob. The sound hits me deep in my undead heart.

Oh, fuck it.

I grab his shoulder and shake him firmly. “Simon!”

His blue eyes fly open with a loud gasp. I pull my hand back immediately. Snow takes deep, shuddering breaths, body completely still. I’ve seen him like this a few times. He can stay frozen for a couple seconds or almost ten minutes. Depends on the nightmare, I suppose. This time, it only takes a minute. I subtly breathe a sigh of relief when I see his shoulders twitch. Slowly, his bleary eyes meet mine. They’re not angry or sad, just confused.

“You called me Simon,” he whispers.

Fuck I hope he doesn’t see the way my face heats up in the dark. What the fuck is wrong with him? I wake him up from a nightmare and his first thought is that I called him by his stupid beautiful first name? What a stupid gorgeous moron.

“No, I didn’t,” I grumble. It’s a blatant lie, but I’m praying to whomever will listen that he’s too sleepy to argue. I then turn back on my side, my back towards him. “Go back to sleep, Snow.”

Thankfully, Snow doesn’t keep arguing. From the sound of it, he rolls over too. I will myself back to sleep. I hope I don’t have anymore nightmares tonight. And I hope he doesn’t either.

———————————————

Simon

“Si, that’s the third time you’ve rolled your neck,” Penny says.

“I know,” I grumble. “Bloody floor is so uncomfortable.”

Penny looks up from her huge spellbook. “Have you seriously been sleeping on the for the entire past week?”

“Yeah. Baz won’t let me sleep in the bed. Says he’s not going to fuck up his back because of my fuck up.”

“That’s mean.”

“He is mean.”

“Damn right I am,” Baz says smoothly, before dropping books on the table with a soft thunk. He sits at the head of the table. Figures. Probably thinks he deserves to lord over us. “My spine will not ache because my roommate is an idiot.”

I stick my tongue out at him. Baz rolls his eye. “Extremely mature, Snow.”

I flip him off and look back down at my book. He’s right, it was juvenile, but it’s how I feel. Stupid prick. It really was an accident and now I have a bad back. Like he cares. Though, it hasn’t been all bad. Baz has woken me up from a couple nightmares, including that first night. I wonder why. Maybe he thinks I’ll have worse nightmares when I go back to sleep but I don’t. So, ha, plot ruined in my favour, you stupid posh vampire.

We’ve been doing this every day after tea break, going to the library and researching spells to fix the bed. Luckily we all have the same free period. Sadly, we still haven’t found anything, and I haven’t been able to will it back to normal either. I suggested we ask the Mage for help, but Baz immediately shut that down. He says the Mage will find some way to blame him. I told him he was being paranoid but he was firm. So we’re still here, still researching, and I’m still sleeping on the bloody floor.

“How about this one?” I ask, “‘Parting is such sweet sorrow?’”

Penny reaches for the book, but Baz takes it before she can, scanning over the words with his inquisitive grey eyes.

“Nice try, Snow, but no cigar,” he says smoothly, and I deflate like a forgotten balloon. “This spell is to make someone miss you. It has to do with your emotions. It’s not used for physically separating two items.”

I groan and slump forward, cheek squished on the oak table. At least the wood is cool. It feels nice on my tired skin. “Fucking great. Still nothing.”

“It’s one setback, Snow. don’t get so twisted up.”

“It’s not one,” I grumble, turning my head so I can glare at his calm face. “We’ve had lots of them. Nothing has worked or been good.”

He sighs, probably because he’s frustrated with me. “We’ll find something eventually.”

“For once, Baz is right,” Penny says. She puts a soft hand on my shoulder. “We’ll find something. Don’t give up yet.”

I make a noise of agreement, because honestly I’m too tired for words. But she’s right. We’ll find something. I just need to rest for a second. The damn floor is making me so goddamn tired that I’ve been nearly falling asleep in class for a week. I haven’t been able to get any work done either.

Oh fuck.

I bolt upright so quickly it makes both Baz and Penny jolt. “Test!” I say.

“What?” Penny asks with genuine confusion.

“Test, today, I-I didn’t- I need to but- Fuck, how do I-”

“Words, Snow,” Baz sighs.

I glare at him as hard as I can. “Is our poli sci test last period today!?”

“Yes, yes it is.”

“Fuck,” I hiss. I pull at my hair and weirdly it provides some feeling of comfort. Or maybe I just want to punish myself. “I’ve been so tired and we’ve been doing this all the time so I haven’t studied at all, I’m so fucked!”

Penny runs her hand down my arm.“I’m sure you’ll do fine, Si.”

I groan and hold my face. I know she’s trying to be nice and all, but it feels empty. We both know the height my intellectual capabilities, which probably sit somewhere down in the centre of the fucking Earth. As if my average needed to plummet even more.

Something loudly slaps on the table, making me yelp. The librarian makes a shush noise. I don’t know if she means me or the sound. Right in front of me is a black spiral bound notebook with “Political Science” written on the front in curly lettering. It’s Baz’s handwriting. I tilt my head up at Baz him, who’s looking at his giant volume with zero sign of emotion, as usual.

“What’s this?” I ask.

His eyes flick up while the rest of his face is still. “What’s it look like, Snow? It’s my political science notebook. I promise you my notes are very meticulous.” I’m still staring at him dumbly. He makes a small gesture with his long fingers. “Go on, Snow, at least you can do some last minute revision. Maybe that’ll help somewhat.”

He goes back to the spellbook with no other comment, still looking all neutral and shit. Like this isn’t the weirdest fucking thing to ever happen in my weird as fuck life. I turn to Penny, who is just as wide eyed. Well, it’s good I’m not the only one super fucking confused over this.

“But...why?!” I ask.

“You won’t be much use for spell research if you’re busy bemoaning doing poorly on a test. My frankly stupendous notes might at least put your mind at a bit of ease.”

I trace the leather cover (of course it’s leather) and it doesn’t kill me, so it’s not booby trapped at least. At least not on the cover. I could open it and a cloud of poison could puff out. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” he sighs with annoyance. “Unlike you, I do not stutter. Open the book and revise away.”

Even when he’s trying to be nice (possibly), he’s still a prick. It’s truly a skill, I guess. “Um, are you gonna want it back before lunch?”

He shakes his head, making more wavy black hair fall in his face. “No. I feel perfectly well prepared for the test. Please return it at the end of the day. I assume you’re not petty enough to destroy my political science notebook.”

I look at the notebook, then him, then the notebook, then at still confused Penny, then back at Baz. I move so fast my neck hurts. “Seriously?!”

“Yes,” Baz sighs again, sounding even more annoyed. “Use my bloody notes, Snow. Put your frantic little mind at ease.” He licks the tip of his thumb and flicks over to the next page. I swear he’s doing it for the dramatic effect.  “Maybe you’ll actually do well on a test for once. Merlin, that would be a miracle.”

I want to start shouting at him, but we’re in a library, and he just gave me my notes. It feels wrong to yell when he’s being nice, even if it’s in his own self centred prick way. Well, I guess I can yell some other time. For now, I open up his stupid black notebook.

His handwriting is all loopy and perfect, of course. At least it makes his notes easier to read. And I guess they’re kind of super organized, and well written, and super informative. Fuck, this might actually help me on the test. I know politeness rules say I’m supposed to thank Baz, but like hell I’ll ever do that. So I just keep my head down and revise.

———————————————

When I get back to my room, I’m so knackered I go past Baz without notice and flop down on my blanket nest.

“And a good evening to you too, Snow,” Baz says. It almost sounds teasing, in his weird deadpan way. I grunt in response. “How did the test go for you? You were still writing when I left.”

I lift my head up and look over my shoulder. Baz is sitting at his desk, back to me. I can’t see his face, so I can’t tell if he’s mocking me or not. “Are you seriously asking or taking the piss?”

He chuckles, and it doesn’t sound that sadistic for once. Weird. “You decide. Take a wild stab.”

Well, that’s cryptic as fuck. I still can’t see his face and therefore decide if I’m being mocked. Usually he’s mocking me. But, he gave me his notes. Maybe he wants to know if his “frankly stupendous notes” were effective. He would, the posh prick. I shouldn’t give him any satisfaction. But...he did give me his notes...

“It was alright,” I say. “Not great but not horrific either.”

“Did the notes help at all?”

Yeah, there it is. He wants to feel self important, the prick. “How much do you want me to stroke your ego?”

“The truth is adequate, Snow.” His voice is totally flat, not one hint of sadistic amusement. I don’t know how to interpret that. I’m used to knowing Baz so well, but recently he keeps surprising me. This truce is weird, but sorta nice, I guess. It’s better than him being an evil prick 24/7.

“They, uh, helped a bit,” I say with hesitant honesty. “I couldn’t hold onto all of it so quickly, duh. But some of it stuck, enough of it. Maybe I will pass.”

“Good. Glad they helped a little.”

His tone is so emotionless I can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. He might be making fun of me. But I don’t think I’m in immediate danger from him right now (for once), and I’m too tired to decipher him right now.

“Uh, yeah...” I get out of the blanket nest then grab my pajamas and bath towel. “I’m gonna, um, take a shower.”

Baz dismissively waves at me. “Have a wonderful trip.”

Okay, that was sarcastic as fuck. But...it’s kind of funny. I have to stifle my giggle and smile. I’m not fucking smiling because of Baz, never ever. Even if he’s funny. I go into the bathroom just to be sure he doesn’t hear or see any wayward positive response from me. He’s acting alright, but I’m still not sure why. Whether this is a plot or...just being nice because we’re on a truce. Can Baz be nice? Christ, this is so confusing.

———————————————

Baz

I wake up because of Simon’s panicked breathing again. I’ve gotten so attuned to them it seems my body won’t let me ignore him. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see him rolling him around, face all scrunched up in pain. I put my hands over my sensitive ears, trying to ignore him again. I always do, because I know he doesn’t want my help. But I can’t leave him like that. Just like I couldn’t leave him panicking about his test a few days ago. Stupid love, it makes me so damn stupid sometimes.

I reach down and shake him awake. It only takes a few placed shoves for his plain blue eyes fly open. My hand flies away immediately. Slowly, Simon focuses on me. His perfect pink lips fall open slightly, and I have to will my heartbeat to slow down.

“Baz?” he whispers, voice confused and soft. How I wish he always sounded so soft talking to me.

“Yes, who else?” I sigh, rolling over and away. “Go back to sleep, Snow.”

I do hope he listens to me for once, but alas, the Chosen One doesn’t listen to any of his bloody supporting characters. He tosses and turns, grunts and grumbles. Every one of his sounds is keeping me up. Eventually, I’ve had enough.

“Snow,” I hiss, “would you please keep it down?”

He grunts at me, like that’s a normal human response. “Can’t sleep.”

“You’ve fallen asleep before after I’ve woken you up, so do it again.”

“...don’t wanna.”

My eyes fly open. He sounds like a defiant child, which is normal, but there’s a weird edge to it. I roll over, but only get a view of Snow’s broad back, not his face. However, from the way he’s curled in on himself, I can tell it’s not good.

“You don’t want to?” I try to keep my voice as calm as possible, so he doesn’t yell at me for being a condescending prick. I want to make sure he’s okay without him thinking I want to make sure, like I tried to when he came back after the test. It’s so exhausting pretending I don’t adore him.

“Bad dreams,” he grumbles. And unfortunately that’s a sensical answer.

I lean up slightly, cheek cradled on my palm. “You’re scared of the big bad nightmares, Chosen One?”

Snow growls, muscles tensing up. “Fuck off, you don’t get it.”

I scoff, half annoyed and half insulted. “Where have you been for the past seven years, Snow? I have nightmares too. Have all my life, just like you.”

That makes him uncurl slightly. Maybe he’s feeling a bit guilty, and I’m not sure how much I want that. I don’t like him feeling bad, even though he was being a bit of a prat. “They’re probably not the same...”

“Try me.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Fuck, that was dumb. Like he wants to talk to me about his nightmares. I expect him to ignore me at best and snap at me at worst. What I absolutely don’t expect, not in my wildest imagination, is for him to start actually speaking.

“Stuff burns most of the time,” he mumbles. “Sometimes it’s Watford, or the group home, or...everything. It’s all on fire. Because I went off and destroyed everything. Everything is gone and everyone is dead because of me. That’s what I dream about all the time, Baz. Happy?”

Not at all, I want to say. I don't wish to see him in pain, not ever. Unfortunately, it makes sense. Snow’s magic is a terrifying force of nature, like a hurricane. And hurricanes always destroy. But I wish he wouldn’t think like that. I want to reassure him, but I can’t let him know I care so much.

"Sounds bad," I say as nonchalantly as I can. "But it won't ever actually happen, y'know."

He whips around with a scowl, but I think I see a deep pain in his gaze. "How the fuck could you know that?! You're the one who's always calling me a useless mage who just blows up!"

I flinch slightly. He's right. I'm the last person who should be helping him. But who else is going to right now? It's just us. I have to, because I can’t leave him alone.

“I say that to get a rise out of you,” I sigh. “Yes, your magic can be uncontrollable sometimes, but we both know you’re too much of a golden hero to actually destroy everything. You hate harming innocents. I still remember the way you blubbered in the bathroom after killing that dragon in first year. You wouldn’t hurt anyone unless you had to and you would still hate yourself for it.”

(I almost say “and when you finally kill me, you’ll still feel terrible,” but that’s a very different conversation for another time.)

His pretty mouth drops further open for a moment, but before I can properly admire it, he gets all scrunched up in confusion. “But I could go off by accident...”

I sigh heavily. “Isn’t Bunce constantly glued to your side?” He nods slowly. “Exactly. She would calm you down before you would go Chernobyl on Watford, correct?”

Snow nods again, and he gets the parted lip shocked look again. “Uh, yeah, I guess you have a point.”

“Of course I do. You won’t destroy everything, Snow, it’s just stupid anxiety. Now,” I roll over, mostly so he can’t see the way my face might be heating up, “please go to sleep. And stop tossing and turning so much so I may sleep as well.”

He makes a weird grunt noise. After a bit of rustling, he goes still. Huh, for once he actually listened to me. That’s good. I know he would never do any of that, because he’s too selfless and clever. But he wouldn’t believe me if I said it. I wish he would. And I wish his dreams were happier.

———————————————

Penelope

When Simon sits beside me in the common room on Saturday, I immediately notice something’s different with him. Simon’s always energetic, sure, but he also tends to bags under his eyes, because of the nightmares keeping him up. (I wish I could take those away for him.) By the end of the day, he’s always looks one bad gust of wind away from toppling over. But today there’s not even a hint of dark circles there.

“Hi Pen,” he chirps, a big smile on his face.

“Hey Si,” I reply. “Just wondering, are you feeling okay?”

He frowns a bit in a confused way. “Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“You look better than usual. Sleeping better?”

“Actually yeah. Floor still sucks, but I’ve been having a few less nightmares. Baz wakes me up from them sometimes.”

My eyes bulge out. I feel like a bloody Looney Tunes character. “Baz wakes you up from nightmares?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Um...why?” I’m so beyond confused right now.

“He says I make too much noise when I thrash about and it wakes him up so he wants to get me to stop.” His eyes narrow, and he leans closer to whisper. “I think he’s trying to make me have worse nightmares, actually. But it’s not working, cause I don’t have any nightmares after I wake up once.”

Simon looks very pleased at this. I mean, he might have a point, but Basilton is unfortunately incredibly brilliant. If he wanted to give Simon worse nightmares there are so many effective ways to do it. And it seems like it’s not effective at all. So why the hell does Baz keep doing it?

“I’ve got three new books,” Baz announces as he swans in with absolutely zero warning. I knew he was coming today but he’s so silent. We need to put a damn bell on him. “Let’s see what they have.”

He sits across from us and shoves two large spellbooks at us. I easily take it, while Simon is a bit more cautious. At least I think he’s being cautious. But when I look to the side, he’s just pouting. Not even in angry way, just annoyed.

“What’s with the long face, Snow?” Baz asks.

“It’s nearly lunch,” Simon almost whines. “This is why I wanted to meet later. I wanna eat, not research.”

Baz sighs heavily. I expect him to tell Simon to grow up. But instead he takes a large glass container from his book bag. It’s filled with sandwhiches and a few scones. Simon’s eyes go wide. I swear his mouth is watering.

“There.” He shoves the container at Simon. “Have my lunch, since you can’t seem to think without stuffing food in your mouth.”

“Um, you sure you don’t want any?” Simon asks, though he’s already ripped the lid off and fishing out a roast beef sandwich.

Baz waves dismissively. “I’m fine. Eat away.”

Simon doesn’t need another word. He starts scarfing down the sandwich. I expect Baz to make some comment about him eating like a pig, but he just sighs and keeps reading. He keeps defying my expectations today. What is going on with him? Better question, what’s going on with Simon? Why is he so unsurprised?

After polishing off three sandwiches (why did Baz get so many?) and beginning on a scone, Simon starts his reading. He’s pretty damn focused, eyes narrowed and nodding thoughtfully. Usually he’s half falling asleep because he’s so tired and bored. I guess he really is sleeping better. And...it’s because of Baz? Really?

Simon finishes off all the food with a lick of his fingers. Baz very dramatically rolls his eyes at him. Okay, so he’s not that different than normal. Simon starts rummaging around in his blazer pocket, then slides a half eaten mint aero bar across the table. Baz’s eyes flick up to it with absolutely no change in his expression.

“Are you expecting me to throw out your garbage, Snow?” he asks flatly.

Simon rolls his eyes in an almost perfect imitation of me, or maybe of Baz. “No, arsehole. I ate all your lunch, so you can have the rest of my mint aero. And don’t say you don’t like them, cause I know you steal from my stash when I’m not around.”

Baz narrows his eyes until they’re grey slits. He’s going to call Simon a numpty and storm away from the table, I know it. But again he does exactly what I don’t assume. He snatches up the chocolate and puts in his own blazer. Simon smiles smugly as he goes back to his book. Baz glares at him one more time, then looks back at his own readings. Sure, they’re not friendly, but they’re not screaming or beating the shit out of each other. It’s so weird.

Maybe I need to start expecting the unexpected.

———————————————

Simon

I wake up in the middle of the night with a gasp, but for once it’s not from my nightmare or Baz shaking me. It’s from weird noises coming from the bed above me. Panting, groaning, maybe even whimpering. Wait...is that Baz?

I bolt upright. Baz is laying on his side in the middle of the bed, curled in on himself. His sharp face is lit up by pale moonlight. I can see all the muscles clench up. It’s the same expression I see when I punch Baz during a fight. He’s in pain. Oh shit, he’s having a really bad nightmare.

Without thinking, I grab his shoulder and shake him hard. Maybe a bit too hard, because Baz wakes up with a giant gasp and flails around like he’s been attacked. His hands land on my forearms, nails digging into my skin like bear claws, as if he’s trying to hang onto me. Baz looks at me with huge eyes and incredibly shaky breaths. If it were anyone else, I’d say he was scared.

“You...you okay?” I ask.

I watch his face change completely in an instant. All that fear flies away and is quickly replaced with his usual boredom. No sign of anything feeling, anything human.

“I’m fine, Snow,” he says. “Get off me.”

“Then let go,” I reply, looking at where he’s still hold on to me. And when I look up again, I swear there’s some embarrassed flushing on his face. Guess he snuck off to feed after I fell asleep again. His hands quickly off me like I’m a toxic swamp creature, then he rolls over, leaving me to stare at his back. I lean my cheek on my palm.

“You wanna talk about it?” Honestly, I’m legitimately curious what could make strong, cold Baz so terrified. And maybe a tiny part of me wants to help, like he helped me.

“No,” he snaps. Of course.  I blow air out my lips in annoyance. “Stop it with the horse impression, Snow, I’m trying to sleep.”

“I told you about my shit. Why can’t you tell me about yours too?”

He cranes his head over his shoulder, glare illuminated just enough for me to see it. “Why the fuck should I?”

“Dunno. Maybe I could help.”

“You?”

The way he says that hits me right in gut. It’s been awhile since I let Baz get to me, but he’s sorta been okay these last three weeks. Him being a bastard again feels like whiplash on a nice scenic drive. I humph and flop back down on my nest.

“Goodnight, Baz,” I snap. I squeeze my eyes shut, clutching a quilt around me. Fucking Baz. Of course he’s still a prick. He always will be.

“It’s about my mother,” Baz says, and my eyes fly open. “I usually see her dying in front of me, in many different ways. And no matter what, I can’t save her. Again.”

Holy shit. My heart is beating against my ribcage. I know I asked, but I cannot believe he’s actually saying something. Slowly, I turn on my side. Baz laying on his back, hands linked over his stomach, staring at the ceiling. He kind of looks like a vampire in his coffin. I bite my tongue before saying that.

“Oh,” I squeak. “That’s uh...that’s bad...”

Baz scoffs loudly. “No shit, Snow.”

“Yeah...sorry. And, I’m sorry about your mum. She died when you were really young, right?”

“Yes. I was five.”

I sit up, mouth falling open, while he doesn’t react at all. “You were only five? Shit Baz, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need your pity, Snow,” he spits like venom.

“It’s not pity!” I kneel, arms folded on top of the bed. “I’m not pitying, Baz, I-I just mean that’s really horrible. I’m sorry you went through that.” Baz doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t yell at me either. That’s a victory, I guess. “You...you said you couldn’t save her again.”

“Yes. Good to know you’re not deaf.” It takes all my self control to not say something mean back. Because I want to help him, because he helped me.

“Do you, uh, mean like you can’t save her in every dream? Or like, you couldn’t save her when she actually died?”

Something odd about Baz is that his most important movements are the smallest. He’s so subtle in everything he does. A twitch can say so much. And I see the way his lips purse slightly and fingers curl up. I hope he’s thinking, not about to curse me in some horrific way.

“The Humdrum’s vampires,” he says slowly, measuring his words, “attacked the nursery, where I was. My mother came to save me. If she hadn’t, she would have lived. She died because of me. And I relive that horrible feeling almost every damn night. That’s what I mean.”

Never in my life did I ever think my heart would break for Baz fucking Pitch. But it really is right now. I live not knowing who my parents even were, but Baz lives thinking his mum died because of him. That has got to be horrible.

“I’m sorry, Baz.” He scowls again, probably about to cuss me out. “I mean, like that’s really bad. And if it makes you feel any better, I, uh, I don’t think it’s your fault your mum died.”

“Oh?” he says like he assumes what I’m going to say is stupid. I hope I don’t.

“Well, I mean, it’s not like you asked for the Humdrum to send vampires. No one could’ve predicted that. And Headmistress Grimm-Pitch was your mum, so of course she wanted to save her son. That’s not bad. And...you were only a kid, Baz. You couldn’t have cast a healing spell or something back then. It just, it wasn’t your fault. It sucks your dreams aren’t getting that...” I look down at the sheet, fiddling with my fingers. “I-I didn’t know your mum, Baz, but I don’t think she’d want you to feel bad about being, y’know, being alive and all...since she wanted you to live...”

I’m not sure I said the right thing. I didn’t say anything about him being a vampire at least, so hey, that’s a plus. But I’m still not sure. Cautiously, I lift my head. Baz isn’t moving at all. He’s a perfect statue frozen on the bed, like one of those medieval coffins. (Or maybe I’m just thinking of that one in Indiana Jones.) Fuck, maybe I said the wrong thing, I do that a lot. We stay in frozen silence for a long while, me kneeling, him being a medieval coffin statue.

I realise he’s not gonna talk anytime soon. So I slowly push off the bed and lower back into my blanket pile. Christ and Crowley, it’s uncomfortable down here.

“Y’know, sleeping here is like sleeping on fuzzy rocks,” I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood at least a bit. It feels like there’s a damn black cloud in here.

Baz lets out a long sigh, the first sound he’s made in what feels like forever. There’s a rustling, then he speaks. “Get the fuck up here, Snow.”

What the fuck? I sit up and peer over the side of the bed. He’s moved to the other side, what would be hid bed if they weren’t melded together. So there’s a big spot open for me. “What?”

“You heard me, Snow. You can sleep here.”

“Uh...this isn’t a plot to like...bite me or something, right?”

He scoffs and I’m pretty sure he’s rolling his eyes. “No, Snow. If I was a vampire, which I’m not, there are much easier ways to get your butter clogged blood. Now get up here, before I change my mind.”

I gape for another few seconds, then my brain comes back online. I slowly stand up, waiting for him to curse me or sink his fangs into my neck. But it doesn’t happen. I get on top of the blanket, since I never really sleep under them. It feels nice to be on a mattress after weeks on the floor. I feel exhaustion wash over me immediately. But before I drift off, I have to say something.

“Um, thank you, Baz,” I whisper. The words feel strange on my tongue, but not too bad.

“Go to sleep, Snow,” he replies. And I swear I hear a small “thank you” under his breath, but I’m so close to sleep I can’t tell. I drift off, and I feel alright.

———————————————

Baz

My dreams aren’t terrible for once.

It’s odd. I’m so used to feeling utter terror in every bone in my body. But this time, I simply feel warm, calm. I’m standing in an infinite field. There’s no sign of my dead mother telling me what a monster I am, no feeling of guilt that she’s dead or dying. I’m just, okay.

Something warm is on my hand. I look down, and there are tawny, freckled fingers weaved between mine. My eyes follow up a strong arm, to a broad shoulder, and finally land on a set of blue and a mess of bronze curls. He smiles at me, and it’s so bright, it’s like staring into the sun. And I simply smile back.

———————————————

I wake up slowly, with no gasp or sudden start. I suppose this is how normal people wake up in the mornings. All my muscles slowly come back to life, the sunlight dances on my eyelids, and there’s a smile on my face. What’s that weight on my side? As my eyes come back into focus, I see my arm is stretched out. And there’s something on top of it. Something with tawny skins and a constellation of freckles and moles.

All the breath leaves my lungs.

I stay very, very still. I cannot have him wake up when we’re like...this. Simon is completely curled around me. One leg between mine, his chest pressed to my back, arm draped over me, and hot breaths caressing my neck (mouth breather.) This is closest we’ve ever been in my entire life. Thank magic itself there’s still a blanket between us or I would probably fucking explode.

Simon hums in his sleep, the vibrations radiating down my spine. His arm gives me a light squeeze. I have to suppress a shudder. Though I can’t help but lightly squeeze his beautifully callused hand. I love the way his skin scratches on mine. Part of me knows I need to wake him up, that he’s going to hate this. But another, weaker part of me desperately doesn’t want to him to let go. I want to stay in his arms for eternity, bask in his heat, burn to death in his fire. Crowley, I just want so much, and it’s terrible. Because there is no way I can ever truly have this.

It’s easy to tell when Snow wakes up. Almost all his muscles are touching mine right now. They come awake along with the rest of him. I slam my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep even when I’ve never felt more awake and alive. I can feel the moment Snow notices. His entire body locks up like he’s been hit with a stun spell, which inadvertently pulls me closer. I’m allowed to revel in that for one second, maybe two, before he scrambles away from me, and I’m my cold self again.

He sits still on the bed for a solid minute, breathing heavily, probably beyond horrified he woke up spooning his worst enemy. I can’t blame him, even though I wish he wouldn’t. I wish he liked it as much as I did. The mattress dips as Simon gets off the bed. I listen to him fumble around, probably quickly throwing on his clothes. Once the door closes, I finally open my eyes. I reach back. The spot next to me is still warm. I roll over and press my nose into the sheets. Smoke and sugar, Simon Snow.

I am so fucked.

———————————————

Simon

I’m not sure where I’m going. I’m just...walking. Walking away from my thoughts, my fears, my weird as fuck feelings. I need to do that more than anything. Eventually, my feet start to hurt, and I have to stop. I duck into an alcove near the second floor showers. It’s too early for anyone to be up, so at least I can be alone right now. I sink down to the ground, sitting with my back to the wall. I chew on my shaky fingers and rock slightly back and forth.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the actual fuck!? I swear to God that I was on the other side of the bed when I fell asleep. So how the hell did I end up draped all over Baz? Why didn’t I notice or move away? And...why didn’t I have nightmares?

I’m serious, I didn’t have a single one. I didn’t even see anything. I just felt warm and happy. It’s been years since any of my dreams have been anywhere close to that good. I can barely remember a time when I wasn’t plagued with fears. Was that really because I was sleeping next to Baz? Or more accurately on Baz?

But I hate him! He’s a snob, and a bully, and a fucking vampire! A dark creature that could snap my neck and drain my blood. Though, he hasn’t really been that bad these past few weeks. Sure, he’s still a prick, but he’s helped me out. I’ve helped him as well, I guess. And I’ve realised he’s not some unfeeling monster, he’s got fears and problems too. He hasn’t hurt or killed me, even though he’s had plenty of opportunities to. So I guess he’s really not that bad...

No, no. What the fuck is wrong with me? Baz is evil, second only to the Humdrum. We’re not mates or...cuddle buddies (those words make me cringe), we’re enemies. I need to get away from him, reset my brain, get back on track.

———————————————

Baz

I’m not sure what happened. Ever since the terrible, wonderful morning over a week ago, Snow has been ice cold to me. (No pun intended.) He’s not even antagonizing me like he used to, just giving me the silent treatment. I ask him a question, he shrugs. I make some joke that even Bunce finds amusing, he’s stoned face. I make snide remarks about his clothing or reading abilities, he says absolutely nothing. Somehow, this is even worse than when he hated me. At least then Snow was some part of my life. Now, I feel invisible to him. It stings in a very unique way. To have him so close, then pull so far away.

“I’m still for ‘parting the red sea,” I say.

Bunce shakes her head, almost dislodging her glasses. “That spell is way too powerful for a pair of beds.”

“Snow’s magic is unique. We might need something powerful.”

“Fine, if you want to try it. But I’m not going to be there when you split the entire tower in half.”

“Ye of little faith, Bunce.” I turn to Simon. He’s got his nose in a book, but he’s been on the same page for ten minutes, so I don’t think he’s actually reading. “What do you think, Snow? Is it time to resort to going biblical on our beds?”

He shrugs, no change in his face whatsoever. I have to stifle my disappointment, not show any of my pain. I clear my throat and look back down.

“Well, suppose we’ll leave that on the table,” I say, thankfully with no catch in my voice.

We spend another hour looking at books. Simon barely moves, barely does anything except exist. I wish if he was mad at me he would just say so. It would be better than this unending silence. Eventually, we head to the dining hall. Bunce and Snow go to their table, far away from me, and I sit with Dev and Niall.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” I say.

“Hello, stranger,” Dev says. “Where have you been?

Niall makes an odd huffing noise. “Yeah. You’ve barely been around lately.”

“Studying. Finals are coming up, and I need to beat Bunce for top of the class.”

“So you’re that stupid you need to study a ton?”

I glare at Niall, who has a giant shit eating grin. “I could turn you into a toad.”

“Would love to see that,” Dev snorts. “Say, the Chosen One isn’t glaring at you today. Has he finally given up on you?”

I glance at the table. Snow is saying something to Bunce, a small smile on his face. He’s laughing at something she’s saying. He looks at least a little happy. Well, seems he can warm, just not around me. It’s expected but still, it hurts.

“So it appears,” I say. “Maybe he’ll finally do something useful with his life.”

Dev and Niall chuckle, both returning to their food. I hope they don’t notice the forlorn look on my face. For a small shining moment, there was a chance Snow and I could at least be friends. But it seems to be truly hopeless after all.

———————————————

Simon

It’s all darkness. Just endless, merciless, black. I’m floating in it like a fish in water with no aim in sight.

“Hello?” I shout, and my voice echoes forever. No one answers. “Hello?! Is there anyone else here?”

“Everyone’s gone, Simon.” A disembodied voice says. It’s an odd mix of people I know. The Mage, Penny, Agatha, Baz, all my group home social workers, even The Humdrum. But when I look around, there’s still nobody there

“What do you mean gone?”

“You’re alone,” the mixed voice replies. “You have always been alone.”

I shake my head forcefully. “No no no, I can’t be! There are people, t-they care!”

“Do they?”

The world spins in front of me, and I honestly wonder if I took something. Suddenly, I’m six years old, sitting on my dirty bed at a group home. There’s no other kids around, all of them outside playing without me. Later I learned my magic repelled them, but back then I was sure they just hated me. Instead of playing, I’m looking up at a social worker. I don’t remember her name, but I remember her deep scowl.

“Why did you break the toy, Simon?!” she shouts.

I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t find the words. At this age, I could never find the words. I was always completely silent, like a sad little statue instead of a real kid.

“Answer me!” she screeches.

I try and try but I can’t. She makes a noise of frustration, and turns away with a wave of her hand. I curl up in a ball, sniffling pathetically. I rock back and forth on my bed. But then it vanishes under me.

I fall and fall, until my feet heavily hit the ground. I’m eleven, standing on the great lawn. A straw dummy sits a few feet away. It blazes bright with a huge fire. My wand is in my right hand, but my left is the one that’s smoking.

“Really, Simon?” the Mage says from behind me. “You cannot even do one simple fire spell properly? I’ve told you to study.”

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” I say, voice smaller than a mouse.

“Sorry counts for little, boy. You have to do better, especially since you’re my heir now. I won’t have you reflect badly on me.”

My head hangs low, a few tears falling down my face. “I’ll do better next time...”

“Doubtful. Come along, back to your room. We’ll try again later.”

I hear him turn, but when I turn to follow, everything ripples like a stone hitting the water . Now I’m eighteen, standing on the ramparts. Agatha is wearing her white nightgown, pale blonde hair blowing softly in the wind. Her arms around herself as she looks off into the distance.

“I can’t do this anymore, Simon,” she says. “I want to be someone’s right now, not their happily ever after.”

“Aggie, please.” My voice breaks with...I don’t know. Sadness? Desperation? Loneliness? I don’t want her to go. She’s my endgame. My happy ending. I can’t lose her.

“I’m sorry. Goodbye”

She turns and walks away. I chase after her. I try to touch her arm, but she turns into mist and blows away on.

The ramparts disappear under me and I fall into oblivion once again. Eventually, I land on something hard, sitting upright. I’m in the dining hall. Penny is across from me with a big smile on her face.

“Chicago was so pretty in the summer,” she says almost wistfully. “I can’t wait to go see Micah again.”

There’s a tug in my stomach. I’m happy for her, but...she’s going to America. It’s only for the summer now, but one day it’ll be forever. One day she’ll leave and I’ll stay here. I’ll be all alone.

“That’s great, Pen,” I reply, hiding the strain in my voice.

She smiles harder, and everything warps around her mouth. Then it’s not Penny I’m looking at, and it’s not her kind smile anymore. It’s Baz’s sadistic grin. His arms are crossed over his chest. There’s that smug glint in his eye. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen him this cruel. I forgot how horrible it was.

“Poor little Chosen One,” he drawls. “Everyone leaves you, don’t they? Maybe you’re just too pathetic for everyone to deal with. Me included.”

“Fuck you!” I scream.

“Very eloquent. I really do feel sorry for you.” He looks at his perfect hands with nonchalance, grin melting into a simple smug smirk. “That’s the only reason I helped you, really. Because you’re so useless you can’t fix your own terrible magic, and I like watching you suffer.”

Furious tears fall down my face. My hands are heating up, but I’m too angry to stop them. Baz just keeps smirking at me, unaffected by my pain.

“You’ll be alone when you die too,” a very familiar voice chirps. “Just you wait.”

I turn around. He’s bouncing the red ball up and down with his goofy yet terrifying grin. His face, my face, is totally uncaring. He doesn’t care about my anguish either. “You’ll burn yourself out trying to kill me, y’know.”

“No!” I sob. My skin is prickly with heat all over. I feel like a log at the bottom of a bonfire, simmering with embers.

“Saying things doesn’t make them less true.” The Humdrum bounces his ball and tilts his head to the side. “You’re alone. Just like me.”

I go from hot to burning. I’m on fire, but he doesn’t care. No one cares. I’m alone, just like he says. I fall to my knees, staring at my glowing hands, tears evaporating on impact. I feel the fire consume my body. And I let it, preparing to explode outward. That’s all I’m good for, blowing up. A sad, lonely bomb.

“Snow,” a distant voice calls, but I can barely hear over the roaring in my ears. “Snow! Simon, wake up.” It’s getting louder. What’s on my shoulder? “Simon, for the love of Crowley, please just wake up!” Something’s on both my arm. It feels like...hands. “Wake up!”

———————————————

Baz

Simon’s eyes fly open with a huge gasp. The sparking golden energy is still radiating off his body, but I keep gripping his arms. I’m not letting him go. Whatever kind of dream he was having it must’ve been particularly terrible. So he’s not going to be alone right now.

His breathing is shallow and strained. I watch as his eyes look down at his glowing skin, then widen with terror. He starts full on hyperventilating, body shaking like a leaf. It only makes the magic grow stronger, shining brighter than the midday sun as it crawls up his arms. No, no, you idiot, that’s the opposite of what you need to do right now! Crowley, I wish Bunce was here. Unfortunately, it’s just me. I’ll have to do my best.

I’m leaning over the edge of the bed. Snow is still laying down. I pull him up to his knees so we’re almost face to face.

“Snow, look up,” I hiss. His eyes still move frantically. Fucking hell. I grab his tear stained cheeks, forcing his head up. “Simon, look at me.”

Finally, he looks me in the eye. I’ve never seen him so afraid. Not in front of the chimera, not facing down a dragon, not when he’s fighting me. He looks closer to the frightened little eleven year old I met all those years ago. But I’m not going to treat him the same way I did back then.

“Simon,” I say firmly “we need to calm you down.”

“I-I...I can’t,” he chokes out, new tears falling down his face.

“Yes, you can. Look at me, and take deep breaths, okay?”

He shakes his head frantically. “I can’t, I can’t-”

“Stop it, Simon, and look at me.” I use one hand to move his to my chest and the other to hold his shoulder, gripping him tight. “Do as I do. Follow my movements. Understand?”

He still looks panicked but nods. “O-Okay.”

“Good. Now, breathe in,” I take a deep inhale, and he takes a more shallow one, “one, two, three. Now out,” I breathe out slowly, and he follows, “one, two, three. And again. In, one, two, three. Out, one, two, three. You try counting, okay?”

Snow presses a bit harder on my chest, free hand digging into my other arm. “I-In, one, two, t-three. Out, o-one, two, three.”

His breathing is getting more steady, and the glow is starting to dim slightly. I nod and hold his hand tighter. “Yes, good job, Simon. Keep going.”

He closes his eyes, and we keep breathing together. In, one, two, three. Out, one, two three. Over and over and over, until the room becomes dark again and there aren’t as many tears falling down Simon’s cheeks. He keeps his eyes shut, but not as tightly. His hands are still gripping my arm though. He won’t let up. And when I tentatively try to let go, his nails dig harder into my skin.

“Don’t let go,” he pleads. “Please. I-I don’t wanna start going off again.”

I nod slowly. “Okay. But we can’t sleep like this, Snow.”

We’re frozen for a moment. I wait for him to say or do something. Sure, I know what I want, but I highly doubt it’s what he wants too. Then to my utter shock, Snow pulls himself up by my arms and into the bed, throwing the blanket over himself. Even more shocking, he presses his body close to mine. His strong arms embrace me tightly, face pushed into my chest, eyes still closed. The warmth from his body makes me gasp. But I’m so completely stunned that I’m frozen in place.

“Is this okay?” Simon asks.

Crowley, I wish he could understand how okay this is. How I’d let him hold me for a hundred, even a thousand years. As long as he needs. But I settle with simply nodding.

“It’s okay with me,” I whisper. Cautiously, I place a hand on his side, and when he doesn’t shove me away, I touch his back. “Is this okay with you?” He nods slowly. “You’re...you’re not scared?” He’s always been scared of me, and he’s already had a horrific night. I don’t want him to be more afraid.

He shakes his head against my chest. “No, not scared anymore” He yawns and bunches my shirt in his hands for a second. “You make the nightmares go away.”

Before I have a chance to ask for an explanation for that sentiment, Snow is already fast asleep . His light snores brush against my chest like a summer breeze. My mind is racing with so many questions. But Simon is sleeping softly, right here in my arms, beautifully at peace after nearly going off from a nightmare. My questions can wait.

I lean my head down, nose pressing into his scalp. He smells like smoke and cinnamon rolls, something I would gladly eat. But I won’t hurt him, I never would. I just hold him, and drift off with his warmth surrounding my body and sweet scent in my nose.

———————————————

Simon

For the second time in over a week, I don’t have a nightmare. I dream of light and warmth again. But this time, the warmth starts to take form. It molds and twists into a tall silhouette with a lean frame. His hair becomes thick and wavy, smile small and reluctant, and eyes a deep sea grey. Looking at him makes me feel safe.

Baz.

———————————————

I wake up slowly. No gasping, no going off. It’s odd but...nice. As my eyes slowly open, my vision is filed with bright red. Something is wrapped around me, holding me close. Something that smells of cedar and bergamot. Wait...

Carefully, I push myself back slightly. I inhale sharply. Holy fuck. The red I saw was Baz’s silk pyjama shirt. His arms are around me, and mine are around him. I slept pressed against his chest. He slept with his face in my hair. We’re all tangled up together like the vines that cover the weeping tower. Bit by bit, the memories of last night start coming back to me. The nightmare, nearly going off, Baz calming me down, crawling up into the bed with him. Fucking hell, I held him, and he let me. In fact, he held me back. Baz has been nicer lately but this is on a whole different level.

I stare at Baz’s sleeping face. He looks so peaceful. Eyes closed, lips slightly parted, not a single sign of his usual tension or animosity. Is this how Baz is supposed to look? Without the evilness or perpetual look of boredom? Without all of his defenses up? I kind of like it better. I like him better.

Baz starts to stir, and I stay very, very still. I don’t want to scare him away. But when his vision focuses on me, he doesn’t seem scared. He’s more shocked than anything, and that shifts to completely awestruck, eyes getting bigger than dinner plates. It’s like he’s experiencing a bloody miracle. Huh. I never thought anyone, let alone Baz, would look at me like I’m a miracle.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“Um, hello,” he says. I can feel his arm slowly start to move off my side. “Sorry, I’ll go-”

“No, no.” I pull him back, pressing his hand against my back again. “Don’t go. Stay.”

He looks shocked again, thin lips slightly parted. I’m so close I can see a tiny bit of red spread across his face. “Okay...”

“What, you nervous?” I chuckle.

“No,” he says with a pout. “Just...confused. I always thought you were afraid of me.”

“I was, when I thought you were going drain me dry or turn me into a zombie. But the last few days have been properly educational, haven’t they?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously.” I bunch up his shirt. It’s soft in my hands. “I’ve learned a lot about you. Apparently it’s possible for you not to be a cold villain.”

He snorts. “Gee, thank you.”

I sigh and pull him even closer. I swear his blush is getting worse. “I mean, I’ve realised you’re not actually evil. Sure, you’re a snob and a bully.” He frowns, and it’s kind of adorable. “But you can be really nice in your own way. You can actually act like a real human being with feelings and shit. And I like you like that, Baz.”

His eyes are so wide, so full of wonder. “You...you like me?”

“When you’re not a total pompous git, yeah.” I look right in his grey eyes. “Do, uh, do you like me? Or is this all just a truce thing? I mean, I’d get it, I-”

“Simon,” he sighs, and moves his hand up to my cheek. Baz’s hand are cool, bordering on cold. But it feels comforting. I immediately relax. “Stop stuttering, you numpty. Yes, I like you. Crowley, you don’t even know how much I like you, how long I have.”

It’s my turn to be wide eyed and shocked. For a second I think he’s winding me up, but I don’t see any sign of his usual cruelty or boredom. He’s wide open, no defenses. It’s...incredible. “Really?”

“Yes.” He carefully tucks a strand hair behind my ear, like he’s waiting for me to stop him. But I don’t. Because it feels good. “Really.”

I’m pretty sure my face is bright scarlet. I’ve never felt so, cherished? Is that the right word? Does Baz cherish me? Baz’s eyes flick down to my mouth. It’s so fast I barely notice it, but I’m glad I do. He’s thinking about that, he has to be. And surprisingly, I think I’m thinking about that too.

“Simon,” Baz whispers.

And I kiss him.

———————————————

Baz

Mother of Merlin, he’s kissing me. Simon Snow is in my bed, in my arms, kissing me, his pathetic vampire roommate. His mouth is hot and kind of rough. It scratches as it presses against my own. But it still feels good. Anything he could do to me would feel good. He could stab me through the chest and set me on fire and it would be the greatest ecstasy. But he’s not doing any of that. He’s kissing me. And finally, I kiss him back.

Our lips slide together into a proper kiss. (At least what I assume one is.) Snow grips my shirt tightly, trying to pull me closer even though we’re already lined up head to toe. I move a hand up and around the nape of his neck, weaving my fingers in those bronze curls I’ve admired since we were twelve. They’re so soft. I clench my fist, and Simon groans into my mouth. Crowley, I always want to hear and feel that sound. I want to know every sound he makes when he kisses.

I don’t know how long we spend snogging in my bed. (Our bed?) Frankly, I don’t care at all. Time stretches into a meaningless void far beyond my concern. I try to match his movements at first, but quickly I realise I have absolutely no clue what the fuck I’m doing, so I let him take the lead. It’s a good decision. Simon starts doing something with his chin that makes all my thoughts disappear. And when he sucks on my bottom lip, I swear I’m falling through the mattress into the centre of the Earth.

But sadly we can’t stay here for eternity. Bit by bit, we slow down, and our mouths carefully separate. Our faces stay close. His eyes slowly blink open. They’re glazed over and half lidded. I swear I could get lost in that plain blue. Neither of us let go. Once the haze clears a bit from my mind, there’s one question I have.

“Why?” I whisper.

“You mean, why did I just kiss you?” he asks, equally hushed.

“Yes.”

He shrugs, though a shrug really does not seem sufficient right now. “I don’t know. Guess I wanted to.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Since when?”

He shrugs again, and I sigh and roll my eyes. Merlin, why must half of Simon’s sentences just be shrugs? His hand slowly moves down my shoulder and across my arm, leaving a trail of fiery sensation in his wake. My undead heart is so thumping wildly I’m worried my ribs will break.

“Did you want me to?” Snow looks genuinely worried he’s something wrong. Beautiful idiot, if only he knew just how right he was.

“Must you ask, Snow?” I say mockingly.

Snow’s face falls, getting even more anxious. He starts to pull away. His grip loosens on my shirt. Bollocks, this isn’t what I wanted. I squeeze the back of his neck, silently telling him he doesn’t have to move an inch.

“Yes,” I whisper. “I wanted you to. I’ve wanted you to for a long time.”

To my utter excitement, his sunshine smile comes back. It melts all the ice in my blood. “Really?”

“Yes, really, you absolutely gorgeous nightmare.”

He chuckles, forehead falling against mine. “That’s the funny thing,” he giggles quietly. “When I sleep next to you, I don’t have any nightmares. I...I don’t know why, but it’s happened twice now so, yeah, it’s gotta be a real thing.”

And I thought the kiss completely destroyed me. Now I’m pretty sure I’m in pieces on the floor. “What a coincidence, I don’t have any nightmares either.”

Simon lets out a breath, and I think he’s relieved. “You know, I think I like this. I like this better than fighting.”

“Me too,” I say past the lump in my throat, because I also know reality. “But there’s the Mage and my family and-”

I’m suddenly silenced by Simon’s mouth pushing against mine. I gasp, overwhelmed by the sensations. But before I know he’s pulling away again, far away enough to look me in the face. “Let’s not think about all that right now.”

I scoff. “Not think about our lives? That’s your solution?”

“Yeah, at least for now.” He smiles, small and kind, with big round hopeful eyes. “Just want it to be nothing but you and me for a bit, yeah?”

Merlin and Morgana, he’s so infuriatingly sweet. I want us too, despite I know we can’t really have it. But...maybe for now, we can pretend. “Okay.”

The word is barely out of my mouth before Simon is kissing me again, and I am absolutely sure I’ve gone to heaven. He pushes hard, and I push back. I’m still new to kissing, but I’m top of my class for a reason. I quickly figure out how to move my lips, how to use my tongue, and even that Simon groans when I pull on his hair slightly That’s the greatest thing I’ve never known.

It seems we’re both psychic, because we have the exact same thought at the same time. He rolls over as I tug on his shirt. Simon holds himself up on all fours above me, still snogging the semi life out of my undead body. Every once in awhile, he makes me reach up for his mouth. And I do. I would again. I’d cross every line for him.

I’m in love with him.

And he likes this better than fighting.

———————————————

Simon

Penny thinks I solve everything with my sword. But it seems I can solve stuff with my mouth too. I don’t know how long Baz and I spend kissing. Could be minutes, hours, days. All I know is that it feels really fucking good. It’s all so weird. I like Baz, in a way that involves nice words and snogging. And he likes me in the exact same way. And somehow I feel better than I have in years.

As I’m running my fingers through his hair (it’s just as soft as I thought), I start to wonder if this, snogging Baz, means I’m gay. I don’t know. All I know is that I like the way he sighs against my my mouth. I focus on that instead of everything else.

Baz is just scratching his nails across my scalp in this dastardly perfect way when the door swings open with a loud crash.

“Boys!” Penny yells. “I’ve been up all night, and I think I found-”

Baz shoves me off him very quickly. I yelp as I hit the mattress so hard I bounce. Penny is standing no more than five feet away from us, giant spellbook in hand, eyes wide behind her glasses. I briefly consider making some kind of excuse, but there’s no use. Both Baz and I probably look well snogged. And she just walked in on me hovering right over him in bed. There’s no stuttering my way out of this.

“Hi, Pen,” I say weakly. “What, uh, what spell did you find?”

She gives me a “really?” expression over her glasses. “Are we just going to ignore this, Simon?”

I glance at Baz, who is looking down and blushing very hard. I didn’t know his pale face could be so red.

“Um...” I’m at more of a loss for words than usual.

“I need to shower,” Baz says quickly. He throws off the covers, grabs his toiletries and clothes, and moves so fast to the bathroom I swear he teleports. I’m left alone with Penny, who still looks very confused and inquisitive at the same time. I’m still trying to smile, but she doesn’t look convinced at all.

“Now are we gonna talk about it?” she asks.

I open my mouth, but no words come out at all. I have no words because I don’t know how to explain this. Thankfully, my stomach growls very loudly. I jump out of bed towards my dresser.

“I need breakfast!” I say a bit too loudly. “Let’s uh, talk over breakfast. I really want scones.”

Penny looks annoyed for a second, but sighs and shakes her head. “Fine.”

She turns around so I can get dressed. I throw on my shirt and trousers haphazardly. (Weekend meals don’t require full uniforms, thankfully.) The second I’m dressed, I start speed walking out the door. Penny follows, book tucked under her arm. I really am hungry, but I also need to get away from the room right now. I need to not think about Baz in the shower right now. After this morning, I can’t think about him looking...like that.

“We’re actually gonna talk,” Penny says, “right, Si?”

I nod slowly. “Yeah, Pen, yeah we will.”

Baz

I lean against the door, hand over my still rapid heartbeat. Not sure if that’s from Bunce catching us or Snow’s snogging. Snow’s rough, warm lips, tearing me apart in the best way possible...

I shake the thoughts from my head. Crowley, I need the world’s coldest shower.

———————————————

Penelope

They’re a few feet apart. Simon is sitting on his desk, and Baz is leaning against his own. It’s usual they stay far away, but it’s extremely deliberate right now. I don’t know why they feel the need. I know everything. Simon explained it all at breakfast. Though he did say it in a hushed tone in the far corner of the room. I guess he was nervous about the Mage or the Old Families catching wind that their two heirs were snogging. Can’t blame him. But we’re in their own room now. So why both Simon and Baz are looking at the floor like embarrassed school boys is beyond me.

“Oh, would you idiots stop it?” I sigh. “There’s no need to at all distant and shit, I already know you’re are snogging.”

“Only because you barged in,” Baz grumbles.

I roll my eyes as dramatically as possible. “Yeah, sorry for bringing you the solution to your bed problem. Though now I’m wonder if it’s a problem at all for you boys.”

They both blush even more furiously. Crowley, they are such disasters. I never expected these two to resolve their rivalry this way, but it kind of makes sense in a weir way. Simon has always been obsessed Baz. At least he’s channeling all that energy into something more positive now, I guess. I’m not sure how it’s going to work though. But that’s up to them to figure out.

I open the book to my marked page, and look over my shoulder. “You sure you want me to separate the beds?”

“Yes,” they both say immediately.

"Mage might barge in sometime," Simon mumbles.

"The Families have ears everywhere," Baz says, drumming his fingers on his arm, "can't risk them catching wind either."

Both their eyes flick up and meet across the room. Simon smiles soft, just tugging at the corner of his lips. And surprisingly, Baz smiles back in the exact same way, if only for a moment. Huh. Weird, but kind of sweet.

I turn back to bed, point my ring out, then speak the spell. “Parting of the ways!”

I put as much magic behind the words as I can. They vibrate through the air and hit the bed. For a second, nothing happens, and I’m worried it's not going to work. But slowly the bed starts to glow deep purple. A violet line of light goes right down the middle. They separate like someone tearing apart a wad of gum, big gooey strands slowly stretching. It’s fucking strange, and kind of cool. They warp and shift in they’re rubbery, gummy way. We watch the beds move to each side of the room. The second their in their proper place, the gooey strands snap and shoot back into the bed with a very odd “boing.” The beds wobble like gelatin for a second, then settle down. It’s completely silent for a few long seconds.

“Well,” Baz finally says, “that was interesting.”

“No shit,” Simon chuckles.

I just sigh with relief. Finally, this is all done. I can get back to studying (and beating Baz for top of the class). I turn back to the two idiots, and bloody hell, they’re fucking gazing at each other like star crossed lovers. Both their eyes are round and sad. Well, my work is done, but they’ve still have a lot to sort through.

“I’m going to do my revision,” I proclaim. “You coming down later, Si?”

Simon finally snaps out of his sad lovesick trance. “Oh, uh, yeah Pen, see ya.”

I give him one last hug before I go, giving him a squeeze of reassurance. “Bye, Si.”

He squeezes me back, thankfully. I hope he’ll be alright. We slowly separate, and Simon flashes his bright grin before he fully lets go. I know I have to go, and I do walk out the door, but part of me wants to stay. Baz better not break his heart, or I’ll bloody well break him.

———————————————

Simon

Baz and I stare at each other for awhile. Unmoving, unsure, both obviously feeling awkward as all fuck. I honestly don’t know what to do. There are so many things I want to say but the words get all tangled up in my brain. What do you say to the bloke you’ve hated for years then snogged this morning after cuddling the night before? Well, I want to say, “let’s not think about this and snog again.” But from the pensive look on Baz’s face, I think he wants to do something more talk-y than that.

“Let’s sit down,” Baz says, immediately striding over to his bed.

“O-Okay.” I scramble to follow him. We sit down on the mattress together. Baz is all straight backed and proper looking, wearing his shirt and pressed trousers with his hair slicked back. I remember how he looked this morning, messy and open. I liked the way his hair fell in front of his face in a lazy wave. I want to see that again. So badly.

“So,” he starts, weaving his fingers together on his lap, “how shall we proceed?”

I blow air out my lips. Fucking hell, is he really gonna be like that? “Seriously, Baz?”

“Seriously what?”

“Are you actually gonna act that posh and shit after everything?”

“I don’t see why not.” He crosses his arms over his chest with a little frown. His frown really is adorable. Why have I never noticed that before?

“Because now there’s, well, this.” I wildly gesture between us, because that’s honestly all I can think to do.

His eyes narrow slightly. “What’s this, Snow?”

“This!” I gesture even more wildly, probably a little bit insane. “This between us. And I like this, I like you. Don’t pretend like nothing happened and make me think I’m crazy, because we both did and said shit.”

I watch all the muscles in his body sort of shift around, but he doesn’t move anywhere. It’s like he can’t decide if he wants to get closer or further away. I wish it was closer.

“I know we...proclaimed things,” Baz says very carefully, “but there’s still realities we must deal with. We’re on opposing sides of on an oncoming war. We’ve tried to kill each other more times than I can count. This truce doesn’t change the fact that we hate each other.”

“But I don’t hate you.” I move a bit closer, and thankfully, he doesn’t move away. “At least, I don’t anymore. And...you don’t hate me either, right?”

His bored expression finally cracks slightly. Just a downturn of his lips and minute widening of his eyes. He looks down at the floor, fiddling with his long fingers. “No,” he whispers. “No, I don’t. I haven’t for a long time.”

That makes something warm pool in my stomach. “Exactly. So why do we have to keep pretending we do?”

“Because we’re supposed to, Snow.”

“Fuck supposed to!” I put a hand on his knee. He looks surprised but doesn’t flinch. “Look, I know you think we’re doomed, Romeo and Juliet style.”

“Completely,” he says to the floor.

“And if past experience is any clue, I’m not that great at being a boyfriend.”

He scoffs. His cheeks are only a little red. Guess he’s low on blood. “Duly noted.”

“But,” I put both hands on his knees, “I still want to make this work. Because doing this, being nice to each other and helping and...the kissing, has been good. I’ve liked it better. So why not give it a shot?”

“And The Old Families? The Mage? What of them?”

I nervously rub the back of my neck. “Well, uh, I was thinking if we stopped the Humdrum, maybe everyone would see we can work together.”

He rolls his eyes very sarcastically. “And the whole world of mages will hold hands and sing a song about cooperation.”

I chuckle and shrug. “Yeah, maybe something like that.” I put my hand over his. It’s soft and smooth, it feels good. “At least we can try, right?”

Baz’s thin lips purse in thought. I wish the brilliant moron would just not overthink for a second. “There’s so much we have to figure out.”

“We can do it. I’m strong, you’re smart, we can make it work.”

“There’s so much in our way.” His arms lower into his lap.

“I like a challenge.” I properly grab his hand, and he holds it back.

“There’s so much you don’t know, Snow...”

He looks ready for a blow, like something is going to smash him in the face. I shift so we’re pressed against each other. “Well, what I do know, Baz, is that you helped me find a spell, talked me through the nightmares, calmed me down from going off, and make my bad dreams go away. That’s pretty damn good.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been so articulate in my life. It’s because I’ve never been so sure of something in my life. Baz doesn’t look as sure, but I think he wants this too.

“Do you honestly think there’s a chance?” he says quietly. He sounds so vulnerable, nothing like the arsehole I thought he was.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. I move so our faces are close together. “But I wanna try. Do you?”

We’re so close. Not as close as this morning, but it still feels good. My nerves feel on fire in the best way. It’s not like going off, when I’m out of control and terrified. It feels more like just being excited and alive. Usually I’m nervous too, but not right now. I’ve never been so sure of something in my life.

Baz reaches forward. His hand hovers in the space between us. Like he’s waiting for me to push him away. I’m not going to. I don’t want to ever again. “Simon,” he sighs, “if we’re going to do this, you have to know, I’m...” he gulps audibly, “I’m a v-”

“Vampire,” I finish for him. “Yeah, I know. I’ve known for years, remember?”

He pulls back, looking very worried. “And, you’re seriously okay with that?”

I shrug. “Well, it’s weird, but I was only scared that you were gonna hurt me. If the past few weeks are any clue, I don’t think you’re gonna. You don’t hurt people, right?”

“Never,” he practically spits. “I’m not a murderer.”

“Yeah, exactly. Pretty sure only rats have anything to fear you.”

“And...you don’t think I’m...dead or something?”

I shake my head. “Nah. You’d be pretty lively for a corpse.” He chuckles quietly, shaking his head. I play with a piece of his hair that’s fallen out of place. “That doesn’t change how I feel and what I think. I still want this. I want to be your boyfriend. Your terrible boyfriend. As long as you do too.”

Baz looks at me with a soft smile. I like when he’s soft. He looks better. “You’re an idiot,” he sighs. I frown in confusion. “But you can certainly have...this if you want.”

I do.

I grab his face and kiss him. I want to kiss him so bad. Baz inhales sharply through his nose and puts his hands on my chest. For a second I’m worried he’s going to push me off. But instead he grips it tight, pulling me closer. I happily wrap my arms around his neck. Our lips move almost perfectly in sync. I feel like I’m burning in the best way. I never want to leave this room, this bed, Baz’s arms, any of it. The rest of the magical world can fuck off right now.

We eventually fall down on my bed, still kissing, laying on our sides. When we pull apart, our noses still brush together. We’re both grinning like idiots. I couldn’t be happier.

———————————————

Baz

I swear to Crowley these past 24 hours have given me whiplash. First Snow sleeps in arms, then he kisses me, then he asks to be my boyfriend. He cares for me, and he doesn’t mind that I’m a vampire. Simon Snow isn’t afraid of me anymore.

I’m living a charmed life.

I’m laying in bed, pretending to read, when Snow comes out of the shower. He’s wearing his trackie bottoms, no shirt, and drying his hair. I try not to watch the drops of water falling down his chest too closely. We may be...boyfriends now (that word still feels so amazing and odd to me) but I don’t know what he’s comfortable with yet. His damp curls fall adorably in his smiling face. My cheeks heat up. Dammit. I went to feed while he was in the shower, and now I’m paying the price. Snow grins back at me. Well, maybe it isn’t so bad.

“You already fed?” he asks while putting away his clothes and towel. It’s so weird to be asking about it so casually. My biggest secret, just a part of small talk.

I clear my throat and look back down. “Yes,” I reply.

“Good, good. What’cha reading?

“Homework.” I don’t mention it’s homework for next term. No need to rub it in his face anymore.

He flops down heavily on his bed. “Interesting?”

“Yes. Not sure you would like it though.”

“Probably not.” He stretches and arches his back like a comfortable cat. I try not to ogle his muscles too much. “I like fairytales and stuff.”

“Hm, my family library has an original Brothers Grimm fairytale collection.”

He gasps and sits upright. “Seriously?!”

“Yeah. They’re distant relatives on my father’s German side. I’ve read it a few times. It’s quite an impressive volume.”

“Cool! Maybe you can show it to me sometime.”

I lower my book into my lap. I won’t lie, the idea of Simon coming to my home, seeing the library, meeting my little siblings, maybe even staying in my room, is exhilarating. Though I know it’s impossible. I look to the side. Simon is grinning ear to ear. He’s so positive, even after everything he’s lived and still suffers through today. It’s incredible. He’s incredible. And his smile is infectious, so I smile too.

Snow lets out a big yawn and falls back onto the bed. “Ugh, I’m tired. Think these last few weeks of worrying have taken a lot out of me.”

“I’m the same,” I sigh, putting my book on the bedside table. “Though you also did study with Bunce all afternoon. How was that?”

“Alright. I’m really behind for finals, what with all the research. Sorry I had to leave after lunch.”

“It’s fine, Snow. We don’t have to be joined at the hip.” In reality, it was probably a good thing he left for the afternoon. I needed to lay down and collect myself for a good few hours. Part of my brain is still exploding. And it explodes even more when Snow reaches across the gap in our beds, hand lightly touching mine.

“You called me Simon before,” he giggles. My immediate instinct is to refuse, be mean, call him a moron. But...I don’t have to pretend anymore do I? I flip my hand and weave our fingers together. His heat shoots up my nerves.

“We don’t have to be joined at the hip, Simon,” I say with a small smile, hoping he can tell I’m joking. From his grin, I think he does. I squeeze his hand lightly. “We should go to bed. We actually have school tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, “stupid school.” I expect him just to let go. But instead, he rolls on his side, brings our hands between us, and kisses the back of mine. Now my entire body feels like it’s on fire in the best way possible. “Goodnight, Baz.”

I smile wider and sigh. “Goodnight, Simon.”

We gaze at each other like lovesick idiots for another few seconds. Then I magic the lights off and we both roll over. I pull my blankets up, and try not to compare their inadequate warmth to Simon’s. I remember his arms around me, and mine around his. How can I miss something so badly I’ve only had once? Though it was so incredible that one time. I want to feel his warmth again. I want him to make my nightmares melt away.

“Hey, Baz?” Simon whispers. “You still awake?”

“Yes,” I sigh. “It’s only been a minute.”

“Oh right. Um, I know this is weird, and the other times were an accident and helping me with the nightmare. And I’m not having a nightmare yet, of course. And I know the beds aren’t very big apart. But um, maybe I could- Or you could- Or we could figure something-”

“Simon.” He stops stuttering, thankfully. I pull my blankets and shuffle closer to the wall, leaving a space open for him. Maybe not a lot, but it’s enough. “Just get over here.”

I don’t I’ve ever heard him move so fast before. He scrambles out of bed and practically throws himself on mine. I even bounce off the mattress slightly.

“Sorry,” he whispers as he snuggles closer. “Night.”

He throws an arm over my side, pressing his hand to my chest. I put my hand on his. Simon’s breaths even out against my neck. Once again, he’s a long line of heat around me. I feel warm, safe, happy. All thoughts of magic and wars fall away from my mind. None of that matters, not while he’s holding me.

“Goodnight,” I whisper.

I close my eyes, sinking into the feeling of Simon Snow holding me close. I don’t think I’m going to have any nightmares tonight. Or anytime soon.

———————————————

AN: I don't do a lot of canon divergence, so this was fun. Sorry if it felt too meandering. I did my best to fix that but there was only so much I could do. Idk. I still liked it. Hope you peeps did too :)

I'm slowly working my way through the requests, but I'm starting my new job next week so it may be a bit of a wait for the next one. See y'all again hopefully soon :D

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #fluff #angst #hurt and comfort #nightmares #mysnowbazfic

[loftec]

I was really hoping to update NTW this weekend, but it’s looking less and less likely... so, here’s something else.

I found an alternate season 6/7 thing I started outlining when that whole mess went down, like just ideas for how Ian’s storyline could have worked out after season 5 (I would have included the other characters too, but honestly I don’t know what they’ve been up to since I stopped watching. Fiona bought a building. For some reason. I don’t want to know.).

So I’ve added some stuff for season 8 and 9, and since I’m probably never going to write it I thought I’d just share it for laughs.

May the 4th be with you!

Alt Shameless after season 5

Ian is on his meds and since he broke up with Mickey because he thought he’d be better off alone, he doesn’t go looking for new boyfriends.

He sleeps around a lot though.

He doesn’t have a lot of storyline, because he’s mostly clammed up and moping around, and his family keep assuming that it’s because of his meds.

Maybe four episodes in, something happens at work that makes Ian seek out an LGBT+ group, where he meets Trevor at a charity event. They work together all day and really hit it off, they have some similar interests (interests!), and they end up talking about a lot of things (things!). At the end of the day, Trevor asks him out, and Ian says yes before he’s remembered that he doesn’t do that stuff.

He’s nervous about the date and drinks a couple of beers before Trevor even shows up, he gets piss drunk and wakes up the next day in a strange room.

It’s Trevor’s bedroom, and Trevor comes in with coffee, telling him that Ian was pretty much drunk when he showed up and barely able to stand on his own two legs by the time they left. He doesn’t know where he lives, so he took him home for the night.

Ian tells him about being on meds, and that’s why he got so drunk so fast.

Trevor thinks he could have just told him, and Ian says his mental illness pretty much was the reason his old relationship didn’t work out.

Trevor asks if it was Mickey. Ian wonders what Trevor knows about it.

“You may have mentioned him last night.”

Ian says yeah, and is quick to correct him when Trevor assumes that it was Mickey who left.

“I broke up with him, thought it was the best for the both of us at the time… also don’t think I expected it to last. We usually find our way back.”

“But not this time?”

“He’s in prison. Fifteen years.”

It’s the first time he says it out loud.

Trevor says he’s not interested in starting a relationship with someone who’s clearly still in love with their ex (and Ian kinda smiles, because it’s true and it’s so nice that someone else can see it and accept it and take it seriously). But, he says, you do look like you could use a friend, and not to brag, but I make an excellent friend. He does the cheesy handshake, re-introduction thing (where we find out his last name!) and they agree to be friends.

(Turns out Trevor is estranged from his family, and after maybe a shaky start, he finds a natural spot in the Gallagher clan and becomes part of some of the other plot points throughout the season.)

Ian’s storylines can be about his work, and about stuff happening at the LGBT+ youth center, and they get into hijinks, but nothing super serious (or illegal!!).

Ian at some point has a big moment with Yevgeny, where he comes to terms with no longer being a parent, and maybe even thinking that it’s for the best. (Svetlana and her thrupple storyline can basically be the same, but end differently. With the three of them happy and together, and Yevgeny thinking of Kev as his dad. It’s not ideal, but neither is Yev being sad about his dad being in prison.) Maybe Ian talks to Svetlana about Mickey, maybe finding out for the first time that they aren’t married anymore. We don’t find out what Ian thinks or feels about this.

Throughout the second half of the season. Whenever the Gallaghers gather and Ian isn’t there, they wonder where he is and try to reach him, letting it go when he doesn’t answer.

But after it happens too many times to be a coincidence, they start wondering. Maybe Lip and Fiona talk about it, worrying about Ian having a low, or a high, but not knowing if they should intervene.

Lip talks to Trevor, and tells him more about Ian’s bipolar. Trevor denies having noticed anything going on, and maybe even questions if Lip has any right telling him Ian’s personal stuff.

(Also, I think it would be really nice for Trevor to have a romantic/sexy storyline... so I wouldn’t mind Trevor and Ian starting a friends with benefits relationship, deciding on the terms of it before they start it. Or, Trevor starts a relationship with someone else. Depends on how much drama one wants. Trevor could develop unrequited feelings. If one wants. But personally I think it would be more fun for everyone involved if he was allowed to fall in love with someone else.)

Last episode of the season, they’ve had some big plot point resolved by the Gallaghers getting together and working it out as a goddamned team, and they’re all sitting on the porch steps when a police car stops outside their house.

The officer tells them that Ian is on record as having visited Mickey in prison, and Lip is like, yeah, maybe a couple of times a year ago, what’s that got to do with anything? And the officer says, no, he’s visited once a week for the past six months. And Mickey has escaped. And they have a warrant to search their house.

The Gallaghers sit packed together on the couch watching the news as the officers search through the house, and on the TV we get the whole scoop. There has been a massive prison break and like 40 highly dangerous inmates have escaped, Mickey amongst them.

BOOM. Credits.

Season seven.

Throughout the season, we get like comedic side story lines about the police and the escaped inmates basically roaming the streets. Potentially outrageous and lots of opportunity to oscillate between slapstick comedy and high-stakes drama.

Ian waits for Mickey to contact him, but it doesn’t happen until maybe a couple of episodes in. TENSION.

Ian has other storylines through the season, but mainly it ends up being his secret rendezvous (plural, frequent, in-depth, sexy) with Mickey where they get to spend time together, talk. Bonus if they try to “be friends” for a while, because they don’t talk about the important stuff and they don’t know where they have each other, and they don’t know what’s going to happen. It doesn’t last long, culminating in an explosively passionate love scene.

At some point, Ian is approached by an FBI agent, telling him they have a deal for Mickey if he turns himself in and gives them info on the other escapees. Ian says he’s not in contact with Mickey and even if he was, Mickey would never snitch.

Later on, he talks to Mickey about their future. Mickey explains that the gang he joined in prison are escaping across the border to Mexico, and he has to go with them. Ian says he’ll come with Mickey, but Mickey is firmly against it.

He wants Ian to come with him, of course, but he doesn’t want that life for Ian. No security, a life of crime, on the lam. He kind of gets why Ian broke up with him, now, if this is anything like what he felt at the time, stuck between a rock and a hard place. Ian pleads with him, telling him that breaking up is something he’s only ever regretted since he did it.

Yeah, but what other choice have we got?

Ian tells him about the deal, and takes out two gold bands he’s bought from a pawnshop. If they get married, they can be put in the witness protection program together, and start over.

Mickey agrees, to Ian’s great surprise, and they end the season being shipped off to an unknown location as the busload of prisoners get apprehended on the way to Mexico (cartoonish, but with a little bit of work and research, maybe could be an acceptably goofy and almost realistic plot point).

(For Drama, Mickey could be with the prisoners when they’re apprehended, and he’s shot dead by the police. Cut to Ian being in the ambulance that picks him up, and Mickey is still sitting in his body bag, all bloodied, as they suck face and the FBI drive them to their new location.)

Season 8

Ian and Mickey try to start a new life and it turns completely ridiculous (like, imagine a mix between IASIP where Mac and Dennis are in the house with the Mac & Cheese mixed with like, Suburgatory, or Weeds, or whatever. Two gay South Side kids suddenly trying to make a life for themselves in some middle class suburb somewhere, and they hate it and it all goes to shit. But they love each other and get each other through it.)

The hardship they face in their new life doesn’t come from them, (it’s from situations and circumstance, and other people being impossible) and every time something happens it only leads them to break down another barrier by eventually talking about their feelings and hopes for the future, and thoughts about the past. And I want them specifically to talk about Yevgeny, how hard it was for Mickey to feel anything good about him at first, but now he misses him like he’s missing a limb. Them trying to be a wholesome couple in a suburb somewhere is an unmitigated disaster, but it does help them get a lot closer to each other and work through their problems, and their past.

And then through some Shameless™ retcon, something suddenly makes it possible for them to return back home. Or maybe they’re just like, fuck this, is there anyone stopping us from just grabbing our shit and going home?? No. So they do.

Yevgeny is part of the reason why they return. They move in to the apartment above the Alibi at first, and Mickey can work with Svetlana in the bar and cook up semi-illegal side-hustles with Kev. 

Everybody they know are on their side, denying everything in true South Side style if anyone asks about them, once again solidifying the core concept of the show; we take care of family.

The whole thing where they’re possibly in danger from the Mexican cartel looking to exact revenge for Mickey snitching (if they ever find out that he’s alive) could be played for laughs and brushed off, until it might come back and create more Drama in a later season, if needed, before being permanently resolved.

Characters thinking they’re invincible and being stupid about stuff like this is fine, I think, if they do it for a good reason.

#shameless us #ian x mickey #alternative season six seven eight and nine thoughts

[cynically-optimistic]

With a week to sit back and think “what the fuck did I just watch,” I thought I would now do a review of American Horror Story: Apocalypse.

As we know (and may or may not agree upon) ahs8 had its various strengths and weaknesses. Many aspects of this season I found riveting but unfortunately by the end of episode 10, the season is left chalked full of plot holes and continuity errors that effectively make so much of this particular story obsolete. This season had all of the components we have loved for years and the potential to be the most amazing season yet, however it fell flat either in the writers room or the editing room. They cultivated this story for 8 years but with the vast underdevelopment of this season and it’s protagonists, they have effectively caused us to ask more questions like what was the entire point of season 8 of American Horror Story?

So here are some notable plot holes and criticisms I have for AHS: Apocalypse.

First and foremost, my biggest problem with this season is that we have almost no information about Mallory at all and they never spend time developing her character. And what the actual fuck is she? There is no way she is a witch, and this season was drastically underwhelming in this regard. I think we were all expecting an epic, biblical battle for the end of days to be fought between the Antichrist and the second coming of Christ or even an Archangel, but no such luck. It is only ever said that Mallory is just a witch...just a witch who got on my fucking nerves. We spent the whole season in flashbacks pertaining to Michael and never developing Mallory any further beyond “oh well her powers are cool,” and honestly, what gives? She has these amazing powers, never before seen by the witches, and we’re just supposed to believe that she isn’t some sort of celestial being? By the time she does defeat Michael, she is not a character we empathize with, she was basically an empty shell of the potentially badass character she was supposed to be. She has all of these powers and runs a 4 year old Michael Langdon over with an SUV...thrice….three times… Mallory could have been an amazing character and I would have completely rooted for her to defeat Michael with all the righteousness of Heaven, regardless of his tragic backstory that the writers spent too fucking long cultivating. But since we know practically nothing about her, all I can say is that she’s just ended up being a dick who murdered a child. Yeah, he was going to end the world, but he had the potential to be turned around, as depicted in his extensive backstory. Too many people wanted him to survive and just be allowed to end the world because Cody Fern is hot and Michael Langdon falls into the typical “tragic backstory, white, villain dude who is moderately conventionally attractive and therefore should be allowed to murder people without scrutiny.” He fits in that trope to a T and it works regardless of it being a tired trope fandom culture tends to fawn over. But no, I truly think, because of the amount of time they cultivated his character in both the light and dark, he could’ve been not such an evil son of a bitch. I cannot say the same for other examples of this trope like Tate Langdon, or Kylo Ren from Star Wars, or even Loki to some extents. This paragraph was supposed to be about Mallory but here again, I have veered into talking about Michael since he is her direct counterpart with way more backstory. I wish I had more to say about Mallory but she was such a blank slate. It’s sad that Coco of all people had more of a personality and backstory. We knew everything we needed to know about Coco and we knew literally NOTHING about Mallory. Ugh. In no way is this a criticism of Billie Lourd, I honestly think she just fell victim to bad writing this time around.

How did Emily and Timothy conceive the new antichrist when in season 1, Billie directly states that the antichrist, who would bring about the end of days, had to be conceived via human and spirit - like Michael. Furthermore, what is this “special DNA” Emily and Timothy have? We can surmise that it makes antichrists but HOW? And how did the Cooperative isolate and identify this DNA makeup to send these two individuals to Outpost 3 in the first place? And if the Cooperative knew that they could potentially make a new antichrist, did Michael know about it? My guess is no, but we will never know. Which begs the question, is the new anti christ going to be worse and if so, what was even the point of this season? Either way, in a few years, the entire world is fucked…again. The only redeemable aspect of that for Michael was that he craved to be loved and spent most of his time looking for someone to care about him rather than carrying out the Devil’s plans. Constance didn’t do this so he went searching for it and was systematically turned away which lead him right into the arms of his true father. This new kid is deeply loved by Emily and Timothy, and without the potential failsafe of him wishing to be loved and cared for, I believe this kid will be so much worse than Michael.

What is the Rubberman? The only new information we have gotten on this since season 1 is from Cody who says that Rubberman is not always Michael or Tate, but something else entirely. Like what? A demon? And it’s literally never addressed. Rubberman shows up unexpectedly (unexpectedly because you know, the world ended…) in Outpost 3, fucks Mr Gallant (why doesn’t he have a first name by the way? ) and is then the catalyst for Mr Gallant murdering his grandmother. So what exactly is this entity?

Also, what was the Sanctuary supposed to be? I don’t think it was just bullshit on Michael’s part to fuck with the desperate people in the Outposts. I do believe there was a sanctuary but we never see it and we never get any further information. I saw some interesting theories that maybe the Sanctuary is the Murder House, which would have been so interesting given that everyone in there rejected Michael, but he might still care about them, and potentially save the house in the nuclear blasts.

{Trigger Warning for sexual assault on this one regarding Tate Langdon} I think the theory Madison has about Murder House is a little off base. She tells Violet that the house made Tate evil but… here’s the thing: yes, we have watched the house and it’s resident ghosts interfere and influence people’s actions, but ultimately they all make their own choices, like Lorraine who set the house on fire which killed herself and her two daughters, and then influences Ben’s sleepwalking and fabricating his obsession with fire, but nothing drastic ever comes from this. So, I honestly don’t believe the house forced Tate to set Larry on fire (as revenge for Larry killing Beau) and shoot up his high school, killing 15 people, because those atrocities did NOT take place in the house. I don’t even know if I can believe that the house possessed and forced him to r*pe Viven and impregnate her with Michael but that seems to be the only horrific thing he did that could even begin to be blamed on the house. The house is a Hellmouth but doesn’t affect those who leave it’s property lines apart from encouraging them to return, almost like an addiction, but one that you can dismiss by just not going back to the house. So while Return to Murder House is a lovely nostalgic experience, I call bullshit. Ultimately though, I do think Madison was just trying to help and give the souls trapped there a little peace which was nice of her, but I’m not fully convinced she was right about Tate.

What happened to Kyle? This season was a crossover between Murder House and Coven but he is never mentioned by Madison or Zoe and is never shown at Miss Robichaux’s Academy. So where is our favorite unproblematic zombie Evan Peters at?

One huge problem I had with this season was Cordelia. She spent this entire season fighting her own fear of decay and death, while trying not to be like Fiona, and ultimately bringing them all to their doom. She sees a vision of the future apocalypse and every single step she takes thereafter to avoid it is a contributing factor that leads them all directly to it. Michael only fully set his sights on murdering all of the witches after Cordelia burnt Ms. Mead at the stake. Mead wasn’t even a witch, so how was that acceptable under witch law? Cordelia wasn’t even allowed to light the fire to burn the warlocks, so how was she allowed to murder a normal human? Mead may have been a ruthless spy and a satanist, but she was human all the same. Then Cordelia tells Michael, as he is devastated to find the charred corpse of Ms. Mead, that he can still choose to be good. Let’s be real, anyone of us would tell her to fuck off and set our sights on revenge if she did that to one of our loved ones. By having another maternal figure taken away from Michael, the only one who accepted and loved him (in her own way) Cordelia put the nails in her own coffin and that of the world. She is among the notable figures that push him along the darkest path, such as Constance, Ben, Tate, Viven, the Warlocks, Ms. Mead (even though she loved him, she loved Lucifer more), the Satanists, The Cooperative, and Mutt & Jeff. He is manipulated at every turn to bring about a future of mass destruction that other people want, and Cordelia was a definite contributor, but let it be known that Michael’s actions are ultimately his own.

The fact that Madison never met Charles, Nora, or Thaddeus while she was at the Murder House is a travesty. That would have been SOOOO interesting.

What the fuck was Ms. Venable’s issue? She was such an asshole to everyone and we never really figure out why other than she works for a bunch of idiots.

I enjoyed the culture around the warlocks because it was so ridiculous, they were the whiniest bunch of assholes, but I also hated this because they were the whiniest bunch of asshole. They were so desperate to overthrow Cordelia, even though none of them even come close to being able to do so (sorry not sorry boys) that they basically invite the apocalypse into their school. The only one who was like “nah, this is probably a bad idea,” was John Henry Moore, played by the incomparable Cheyenne Jackson, who I wish had bigger role to play in this storyline. He was the only warlock worth a damn, but ultimately they were all murdered. Or wait, no they weren’t. Time travel..

Some of the things changed by Mallory’s time traveling:

The warlocks are never murdered but they are still a bunch of whiny assholes

Tate and Violet don’t get back together (good)

Michael never destroys those nice lesbians’ souls, or anyone souls, which is good but who knows what this new Antichrist is capable of and when he will begin to tap into those powers

Constance (as far as we know) doesn’t commit suicide in the Murder House

Moira never finds peace in the light with her mom

Viven and Ben never reconcile

Which also means that Ben is still spending all of his time with Tate and crying while he masturbates out the window so…

Michael never lives in the Murder House

Ben never connects with Michael, Tate never screams at him in disgust, and Viven never tries to kill him

Queenie is never murdered in the Hotel Cortez by Ramona Royale and James Patrick March

Cordelia never has to bring Myrtle back from the dead, so she is still gone

Madison is still trapped in her own personal hell and Mallory doesn’t feel the need to bring her back even though Madison was way more useful this season than Mallory was. We knew Madison, we cared about her, we watched her grow into being a caring person this season, and Mallory is the self righteous ass that thinks Madison doesn’t deserve to leave hell

Michael is never taken in by Ms Mead. He never attends Black Mass and he never eats that poor girl’s heart (all of this was encouraged and initiated by the Satanists - not Michael)

Marie Laveau is still in hell with Papa Legba. She was anyway because Michael ripped her heart out of her chest 2 seconds after she got back but she never returned at all thanks to Mallory

Dinah obviously never gets her talkshow but she is still out here being shady as fuck and will inevitably betray the witches and voodoo queens again, probably for a fucking talkshow, when the new antichrist is running around burning the world down

The end of days doesn’t come, but again, we don’t know that for sure. At best, Mallory only bought the world and the witches a few extra years. So we can only really say that the apocalypse might not happen the exact way Michael (the Cooperative) makes it happen

Some of the thing I actually liked about this season:

THE ENTIRE FIRST HALF WAS INCREDIBLE and it’s really the lack of development throughout the final 4 or 5 episodes I had an issue with

Cody Fern is undeniably a spectacular performer and I very much enjoyed all of the layer and nuance that he brought to the character of Michael Langdon even though in the end it didn’t amount to much. Still, I can’t wait to see what he does next.

I have always loved Cordelia, and even though I very much expected her to be an influence of growth for Mallory and she never really got there, she was still a lovely presence and she spoke some of my favorite lines in this season being “Satan has one son, but my sisters are a legion, motherfucker,” and “I only knew you for a short time, but I missed you forever.”

DayFoxx or MistyXCordelia. You cannot convince me they are not in love, you just can’t. Their interactions were nothing short of magic.

Other than DayFoxx interactions, hands down the best line was, “the stew is Stu!”

Return to Murder House was arguably one of the best episodes of the entire series, directed by one of our high queens, Sarah Paulson in her directorial debut. It had everything we loved about season 1 and I would have loved to watch 5 hours of Madison walking through Murder House, meeting all the ghosts, instead of the last 5 hours of the season we got.

As much as I grew to hate Constance this season, it was still so lovely to have our Queen Jessica Lange back.

Sign me up anytime to see Angela Bassett as Marie Laveau like holy hell yes

I absolutely LOVED the idea of Zoe being a teacher at the Academy.

We could have all benefited from seeing more of Bubbles. Joan Collins was a fantastic addition to the AHS family.

FRANCIS CONROY. Need I say more? I don’t but I will, Myrtle dragging the patriarchy cleansed my soul

It was actually really lovely to see Connie Britton as Viven again. I have always had a soft spot in my heart for Viven and I feel terrible for everything she has been through. She never gets closure because of Mallory’s new timeline but I just hope she does find peace at some point.

With this rich of a storyline, I think we can all agree that 10 episodes was simply not enough to fully deliver this story after a build up of 8 years. Other seasons of AHS range from 11 to 13 episodes, with the exception of Roanoke which was also only 10 episodes. But with those extra hours, Apocalypse could have been incredible. There simply wasn’t enough time, and what time they did have and utilize was almost entirely spent on Michael which we find didn’t matter at all by the end.

Leave your thoughts in the comments if you have anything you’d like to add.

#ahs8 #ahs spoilers #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #mallory #cordelia goode #cordelia foxx #cordelia x misty #viven harmon #ben harmon #madison montgomery #queenie #hotel cortez #miss robichauxs academy for exceptional young ladies #the hawthore school #ms mead #outpost 3 #ahs murder house #ahs coven

[jarienn972]

Curse of Undoings - Part 6

Time for a new chapter! We left off with Henry rescuing Killian from the torture chamber, but they're far from being free. Killian's hurt and Henry has few options to get help as nearly everyone he knows is either missing or cursed. Doesn't make for an easy escape...

No major warning apply to this chapter but there are descriptions of Killian’s wounds and plenty of angst to go around.

You can revisit earlier chapters here on Tumblr: Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  or read from the beginning on AO3 or FF.net

Tagging @killian-whump @hookaroo and @castielamigos  Enjoy!

"Henry, how exactly is it that you know where this tunnel leads?" Killian asked with honest curiosity as he crouched, visibly uncomfortable, before what looked like a wooden panel covering up a large section of the far wall of the Town Hall's boiler room.

"I spent a lot of time by myself around here," Henry replied as he worked his fingers into the gap around the sides of the panel, prying it loose with a well-practiced ease. "Didn't exactly have a lot of friends so I'd go off exploring anywhere I could around town, almost always searching for any little clues to prove that the book my teacher gave me was real."

Killian nodded in acknowledgment of the lad's response. He'd heard too many stories of how lonely Henry had been before finding Emma and it reminded him all too vividly of that loneliness and pain he'd felt after Liam, and later, Milah, were gone. He tried to hold the flashlight steady as the boy slid the panel to his left to reveal an entrance to a very dark hole.

"So, where does that lead?" Killian queried once again for clarification, shining the beam of light into the inky void. He was certain that Henry had told him once or twice already but his memory was fading as quickly as his energy, blood loss slowly sapping his strength. In truth, he didn't really care where the passage led as long as it was away from this prison, to somewhere safe where his wounds could be treated and he could find warmer clothing. Blood from the numerous lacerations lashed across his back and his impaled shoulder was already soaking through the shirt borrowed from the unconscious guard causing the fabric to become uncomfortably plastered to the irritated skin. The guard's black uniform trousers weren't doing him any favors either. They were at least two sizes too big and even with the shirt tucked in and the belt cinched to the very last hole, they barely wanted to stay up over Killian's narrow hips, but they would have to make do for now. Far worse was the fact that the guard's boots were way too small so Killian wore only socks, which weren't doing much to keep away the chill of the cold cement beneath his feet.

"It connects the Town Hall to the mines," Henry reminded his stepfather as they scrambled through the opening in the concrete block wall. He carefully replaced the panel from inside the passageway that was lit only by the beam of his flashlight, reclaiming the light from Killian once the opening was sealed which allowed Killian to wrap his uninjured arm around the teenager's shoulders. "Like those cells, I've never found out why this tunnel was built," Henry explained as they set off in near-total darkness. "I don't know what they were designed to be used for, but I used to hide out down here from time to time and I don't think that either of my moms knows this tunnel exists so I highly doubt Fiona knows it's here. I just wish we had some idea of what she wanted…"

"I may have an idea," Killian replied with a grimace, his sock-covered feet not appreciating the unforgiving gravel and rocks strewn across the ground any more than the rest of his body had enjoyed his previous accommodations.

"What? How?" Henry wondered. Killian had been locked away and tortured in the dungeon. How would he have learned of the Black Fairy's plans?

"The Black Fairy paid me a visit during my captivity," Killian revealed. "She filled Emma's head with cursed memories of me murdering your grandparents."

"Okay, well, that explains a lot," Henry sighed. "I couldn't figure out why my mom thought they were dead and why she suddenly hated you so much."

"Hatred would be a kind word to use," Killian grumbled. "Full on rage and loathing would be far more accurate considering my current state. I'm afraid that Fiona is trying to goad your mother into killing me as she wants to sever our bond of True Love."

"That must be why the book is fading!" Henry exclaimed. "As your True Love is being destroyed, the stories slowly disappear. If Fiona succeeds, the entire book and all of its stories might be gone forever!"

"Aye – I believe that is precisely what she intends. She wants to re-write her own stories," Killian stated. "We need to find a way to get through to Emma to stop all of this…" Killian's words cut off mid-sentence as he stumbled, his body shaking as trembling legs no longer wanted to support his weight. He nearly tumbled atop of Henry, but the boy surprised him as he mustered enough strength to keep Killian upright. "Sorry, lad, I…"

Henry stopped him there. "There's no need to apologize. We can rest for a couple of minutes…"

"No – it will be safer if we keep going…" Killian insisted.

"It's alright. You need the rest. I wish I knew if there was someone else in this town we could trust, but I have to assume that everyone else is cursed like my mom. That or they're missing like a Grandma, Grandpa and my other mom…"

"They're not missing," Killian said nearly breathlessly as he fought against the blackness seeking to overtake him. "They're trapped… Fiona, she trapped them all in an enchanted snow globe…"

"They're in a snow globe?" Henry asked incredulously.

"She showed it to me, bragging as though it were some great conquest…" Killian let out a deep sigh as he felt himself wavering, allowing even more of his weight to be shouldered by his stepson as he lost his tenuous grip on consciousness.

"Killian?" Henry asked as the pirate slumped against him, causing the teenager to lose his hold on the flashlight as he needed both hands free to catch a now unconscious Killian. The light rolled a few feet away as Henry carefully eased Killian's limp form to the ground, not even sure what the best position to place him in might be. He could feel the warm, sticky blood that had soaked through the guard's uniform shirt and was instantly reminded that Killian was losing far too much as it oozed from the lacerations torn into his back and trickled from his punctured shoulder.

Once Killian was safely resting on the tunnel floor, Henry crawled over to where the flashlight had landed, needing its light to be able to better assess all of Killian's wounds. He'd already felt the dampness but now that he could see the extent of the stains covering both the front and back of the once khaki shirt, he knew they were running short on time. He stripped off his jacket and draped it over Killian's upper body like a blanket, discovering that quite a bit of Killian's blood was already staining his coat too. Probably better that he was leaving the jacket here with Killian since that much blood would definitely draw too much attention and he was about to undertake another huge risk.

He was going to have to go back inside because he now believed he knew the key to breaking this curse and getting his family back. Now, he knew exactly what Fiona had smiled at when she'd exited the office earlier and it was his duty to his family to retrieve it.

Henry had to check the display on his phone twice but he was certain that the guard would still be asleep but he had absolutely no idea if Fiona would have returned by now. He remembered a little too late that the extra sleeping powder was several hundred yards back down in the tunnel inside the jacket he'd left for Killian so he'd have to be extra careful. If he encountered someone now, the consequences could be deadly, feeling quite relieved to find the half-naked guard right where they'd left him and no one else in sight.

He cautiously skirted around the snoring guard and swiftly tiptoed up the flight of stairs. Reaching the top step, he inched the door open, peeking into the basement to verify that it was empty before dashing for the next staircase. He had to be increasingly careful as he returned to the main floor, waiting for a woman he recognized as a secretary to pass before slipping into the corridor and making his way toward Fiona's office. The frosted glass on the window made it impossible to tell if anyone was inside but he didn't hear any noise coming from inside so he tested the door, fairly sure he'd remembered to push the button on the back of the door knob to lock it.

He breathed another brief sigh of relief finding the door locked – especially since he did have his copy of the key tucked inside his pant pocket. Now he had to make this fast – break in, grab the snow globe and get the hell out. It was a fairly good, flying-by-the-seat-of-his-pants plan but without his coat or backpack, he'd have to carry the globe in his hand which was going to require an abundance of caution. He'd also have to exit the Town Hall on this level and somehow make his way across town to return to the tunnel via the mines. He didn't dare push his luck with the snoozing guard in the sub-basement. It would be dangerous enough once that man awoke to discover both his clothing and his prisoner missing.

Getting the actual snow globe proved easy but Henry knew the more difficult part would be getting back to Killian. He couldn't exactly run straight down Main Street without increasing his likelihood of being caught. No, he was going to have to flit through the back alleys and parking lots where fewer eyes might spot him. He ducked out of the rear exit from the Town Hall into the nearly vacant parking area and darted across the asphalt with the precious trinket clutched tightly in his left fist. He had to keep it safe, fearing that if he dropped it, he might doom his family to an eternity within its glass confines. All was nearly lost though when he rounded the corner near the church rectory and saw Fiona strolling towards him.

And even worse – she saw him.

He immediately slowed his pace, worried he'd draw unwanted attention if he continued to run or if he made an immediate u-turn. He threw his hands behind his back to tuck the snow globe beneath his belt. Try to look as normal as possible he kept telling himself as Fiona closed the distance between them.

"Henry?" Fiona called out to him using a faux concerned tone that sounded as phony as her position as Mayor. "What are you doing out this way?"

"I, uh… I was just looking for my mom. She wasn't at the station so I was wondering if maybe she'd come by here? Nobody was there either so I decided I'd just head back home."

"Well, your mother did come to see me earlier, but when she left, she said she was heading to lunch. I'm not sure where she went from there so you may want to just try calling her."

"I would, but I forgot to charge my phone last night."

"Would you like to use mine?" Fiona offered, but Henry didn't trust the gesture for a single moment.

"It's alright. I'll just call when I get home."

"Of course, but Henry, isn't your house the other way?"

Damn… she was suspicious of him already. Think, Henry, think… "Oh, I was going to stop by the library before going home. Figured I'd pick up a book or two to read tonight."

"Well then, please don't run. There's no need since the librarian won't be back until after two."

"Oh, I didn't realize that," Henry stammered, cursing that he hadn't remembered the lunchtime closure. "Guess I'll have to come back later."

"Perhaps you should forget the books, Henry. I hear that you read too much…" The disdain in her voice couldn't have been more obvious.

"You know me – I like to read," he replied curtly, echoing her tone. "Oh, well, if you see my mom, tell her I was looking for her."

"I will. Just please slow down, young man," she insisted with that same mocking air of concern for his welfare.

Henry begrudgingly smiled at her. "Of course, Madame Mayor." Now he'd have to go the long way around, but at least it would give him an excuse to swing by the park where he'd stashed his backpack before deciding to spy on Fiona. He hadn't exactly wanted to drag the pack or the storybook through the Town Hall air vents so he'd left it in his secret spot near the play castle before his reconnaissance mission turned into a rescue. He had a bottle of water and a few pouches of fruit snacks inside his pack too which he could offer to Killian, assuming he was conscious. Who knows how long it had been since Killian had any food or drink?

Henry waited awkwardly until Fiona was far enough away from him before daring to turn his back to her, removing the snow globe from his waistband before she might notice the hastily concealed object. It has been far too close a call and now all he could do was try not to fret too much and get himself back on track. Had his behavior been too suspect? Would Fiona call his mother? If she did, he and Killian would both likely be dead before the day was through and the fairytales he was trying desperately to salvage would be lost forever.

No way could he allow that to happen.

Fiona crossed the parking lot with brisk, purposeful steps, lamenting the aches and pains that these modern, fashionable shoes were afflicting on her feet. How on earth had these inane torture devices ever gained favor? Of course, her cramped toes weren't the only thing on her mind after that bizarre conversation with her great-grandson outside the church. She was by no means naïve enough to deny that the boy hated her. Every child she'd ever surrounded herself with harbored that same animosity, but there was something different about this one. Her curse hadn't taken hold on him, a result she'd feared even as the dark spell was cast so she'd had to build in a safeguard, implanting memories of a child who'd gone mad when his grandparents were murdered.

The fallacy she'd created had been convincing enough for Emma, but not for all. A few problems remained, including her miserable failure of a son who had also retained his real memories, perhaps as a side effect of being the Dark One. She probably should have dispatched him to the netherworld along with Regina and the Charmings but at least one fortunate favor to her was that he was more concerned with protecting his estranged wife and his pathetic son. As long as he remained suitably distracted by them, he wasn't worrying about what mummy had planned. Even after their conversation, Rumplestiltskin remained oblivious to the finality of her plot. She'd entertained a fleeting thought that perhaps she should feel at least a miniscule pang of guilt about wiping out her entire family, but she honestly didn't. She'd write a far more successful legacy in her new story.

But the fact still remained that Emma hadn't yet severed her True Love bond with the pirate and that left Fiona herself trapped in this miserable town for a while longer. She needed the Sheriff to snap and finally, if unwittingly, murder her own husband but there was still a possibility that the boy could still pose a challenge. Emma did retain an emotional bond with Henry, even if she was convinced the lad was insane. Should any harm come to her son, it could distract Emma from her more important tasks and that simply couldn't be tolerated. The boy knew the truth and was likely going to remain a thorn in Fiona's side until Emma's job was done. She needed a way to keep Henry off of the streets so he couldn't interfere.

She decided it was time for Emma to rein in her son so she needed to create a bit of a rift between mother and child. Pulling out her cell phone, she scrolled through her contact list until she located Emma's name and number. Oh what amazing devices these smart phones were! She tapped on Emma's name on the display to dial, then waited quite impatiently for the Sheriff to answer.

"Oh, Emma," Fiona gushed after Emma picked up. "So sorry to interrupt your lunch break but I was just wondering if Henry had gotten in touch with you?"

"Henry?" Emma replied through the speakerphone, her voice thick with confusion. "He's at home? Why would you be worried about him getting in touch with me?"

"Are you sure he's home? I just encountered him outside the rectory and he told me he'd been looking for you."

"Looking for me? That makes no sense. If he needed me, he'd just call."

"Well, he said his phone battery was dead, but I have to say that I did find his behavior quite odd."

"Did he say where he was going?"

"He mentioned something about going to the library, but he seemed rather dismayed when I reminded him that it wouldn't be open until later this afternoon, so he told me he was going to go home and come back later."

"Did you see which way he went?" Emma asked, irritation creeping into the timbre of her voice as she processed the disappointment of her son's disobedience. "Did he actually go home?"

"I can only speculate, but he was headed in that direction, but unfortunately, I've no way to be certain."

"Thanks for letting me know," Emma stated as she disconnected the call, leaving Fiona with a smug grin coiled onto her lips. She wasn't about to allow a petulant child to derail her plan, especially since she'd now sown her seeds of distrust against another of Emma's True Loves. It was merely a matter of time now until all fell in place.

Edited to correct the title that was missing an “s”

#ouat ff #ouat fanfic #killian jones ff #killian whump #curse of undoings

[itsjustahuman]

Change of Heart (Enoch O’Connor x reader)

A/n: this is before Jacob enters the loop and I’m also writing this based on Enoch in the movie.

You were the new kid in the loop, you just came in from America with your peculiarity, being able to talk to the dead. When you first entered the loop all the little kids swarmed you, asking questions left right and center. "Polite persons take turns when speaking" said the bird, effectively silencing all the children. "What's your name?" asked the blonde girl with shoes that look like they're weighing her down. All the children looked at you eyes wide with curiosity. "My name's (y/n)." you said. "What're all your names?" "Well, my name's Emma, my peculiarity is that I can levitate" she pointed at a little girl with blonde curls and a little pink dress "Claire, she has a mouth at the back of her neck" she moves her hand towards a rather young boy with a few bees flying around him "He's Hugh, he has bees living inside of him" then she points at a boy that was dressed rather too formal for the occasion "Horace, he dream prophetic dreams that is projected through his eye" she points at a girl with fiery red hair "Olive, she can control fire from her hands" she moves on to a brunette with curls in her hair "Bronwyn, she has the strength of 10 men" "Fiona, she has the power to control nature" "Millard, he's invisible" she said pointing towards an empty space in the crowd except the presence of a floating hat. She placed her hands onto the heads of 2 strange children covered head to toe in clothes with their faces painted on with only holes for them to look through "The twins". "And Enoch..." she said but only to trail off while looking around presumably to look for where he is. "He's probably sulking in his room playing with his dolls" Miss Peregrine opens her pocket watch "We have 23 minutes and 46 seconds until supper, do not be late children" she says walking off to the sitting room. ~Time skip to supper brought to you by Enoch's homuncoli battling it to the death~ You walked into the dining room with Emma, there was only 3 empty seats left on the table. "Take a seat, children" said Miss Peregrine. You took a seat in the chair next to Horace only to feel something lumpy beneath you. "Hey! Get off me" shouts Millard. You quickly get off and stand up apologising for sitting on him. "Polite persons don't sit at the dinner table nude Mr Nullings, go put on some clothes" said Miss Peregrine. You heard foot steps run off and up the stair case. You sit next to Emma on the dining table while the children in charge of dinner for the day came out of the kitchen with a whole feast. Out of the corner of your eye you see a boy walk up the stairs from the basement. He looked pretty cute, his hair was brown and curly, hazel eyes that could stare through your soul, and with a jawline sharp enough to cut someone. "Who are you and why are you in my seat?" he rudely asked you. "Now, now Enoch be polite now, this is (y/n) she's new here. Now sit and enjoy your supper" said the bird. Enoch sat down in the chair that Millard used to sit in grumbling away on how he should be able to speak in whatever way he wanted to speak. He looked up to only notice you staring at him assessing his looks. He gives you a scowl and says "Take a picture it'll last longer" and continues to eat the food on his plate. After he finished he stands up, making a horrible screeching noise and heading towards the stair case. You chase after him and grab his wrist to stop him. "Wait, what's your peculiarity?" you asked timidly. "Well, why don't you come with me and find out". You follow him down the stairs and he opens a door. Inside the room you see a desk with papers randomly strewn all over the surface. There were a few dolls on it lying limply in the center of it all. On the walls of the room are shelves with jars on it, with what seem like organs of sorts. Hearts, lungs, stomachs, kidneys. Enoch walks over to his shelves and picks up a few jars with hearts in them then heads over to his desk. He sits on the chair and opens up the jar. The fowl stench of something rotting came rolling out of the jar. "That smells rancid" you said purely disgusted just by the stench. "You get used to it after a while" said Enoch. He reached him hand into the jar and took out a heart. He shoved the heart into the cavity into one of the dolls chest. "Why are you shoving it into the doll?" you asked. He sighed "First of all, they're called homuncoli and if you weren't so impatient then you'll see what it'll do." he said as he wiggled his hand around in the chest cavity. After a while he takes his hand out and the homunculi slowly stand up on it's feet. He does this again for another doll it rises as well. Enoch pushes them together says "FIGHT TO THE DEATH WITH YOU MEASLY CREATURES". The dolls start fighting while Enoch cheered them on in the background. You just stared at them dumbfounded as the limbs of the dolls slowly fell off. Olive knocked on the door of the room and came in. "Miss Peregrine told me to call you two to the sitting room to watch the movie." Enoch stood up with a poker face, then smashes his fist onto the dolls stopping their fight. All that was left is just scraps of plastic and a few recognizable limbs laying about. We all walk towards the sitting room and see all the children already seated down with Horace sitting in a recliner with a glass monocle on his right eye. As Horace was projecting his nightmare we saw what seemed to be some monsters eating the eyes of adults and children. The children gasp, Claire crying while Emma tried to comfort her. Miss Peregrine woke Horace up and sent all the children to bed early. "What were those things in Horace's dream?" you asked the bird. She looks at you and simply walks off to tuck the children into bed. You head to your room and change into your pajamas. You lay in bed thinking about the weird monsters you saw in the dream. You tossed and turned trying to get a decent amount of sleep when you heard the voice of a young boy. You knew that it was just a ghost but you had nothing better to do so you followed the voice. The voice lead you to the end of the hallway. The doors were slightly ajar and you pushed it opened with a creak. You cursed at the sound and opened the door slowly to prevent the whole house from waking up. You saw the body of a young boy on the bed 'sleeping'. It was obvious he was dead as his chest wasn't rising and falling like he was breathing. You took a seat at the side of the bed and turned to face him. "I haven't seen you before who are you?" the mouth of the body moved. "I'm (y/n) I just came here today and it's my first time living in a loop". "Who are you?" you asked. "My name is Victor, I'm the twin brother of Bronwyn. I was killed by a hollow." Victor answered. "What are those?" you asked. "They're monsters that control their hunger by eating the eyes of peculiars such as you and me" Victor answered. You heard foot steps heading to the room and you see Enoch standing at the door way. "What are you doing here?" asked Enoch, he sounded furious. "Well, I couldn't sleep so I came here I was just talking to Victor" you answered. "That's stupid, how can you talk to him when he's clearly dead" said Enoch, his eyes were watering almost streaming down his pale cheeks. "Enoch, I can talk to dead people" you straight forwardly told him. You stared at Enoch as tears streamed down his face. You took up and took the few steps to reach him at the door way. You raised your hands and cupped his cheeks. Using your thumbs you wiped away his tears that were running down his face. "Hey, what's wrong?" you asked softly. "Victor died a few months before you came, he was lured out by a wright that lead him to a hollow that ate his eyes" he sniffled a few times. "Everything from my life either hates me or dies" he said sobbing. "Enoch, everyone doesn't hate you. Look at everyone in this house, they love you with all their hearts and they don't seem to be dying anytime soon" you said comforting Enoch. You hugged him and ran your finger through his curly hair. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your neck. The hot breaths coming from him were making you blush, luckily he couldn't see it. After an hour, he slowly let go of his hold on you and looked at you with reddish eyes. "Thanks (y/n) I really needed that" he said. "Don't worry about it Enoch, I'll be here whenever you need me" you replied. You both walked out of the room together, not forgetting to shut the doors. Together, you walked towards your room. You were going to walk in when he grabbed your hand. "Can I sleep with you tonight?" Enoch asked looking at his feet. You softly giggled and said "Sure Enoch, you can sleep with me anytime you want". Both of you walked into your room and climbed into bed. Enoch wrapped his arms around you and you layed your head on his chest. You hummed from the warmth you were receiving from his arms. As time passed you were slowly getting drowsy. You felt Enoch kiss your head and you looked up at him with a blurry vision. "You know" he paused "I never really hated you, I liked you since I saw you sitting in my seat at supper" That night, you both slept together and it was one of the best sleeps you have ever gotten in your whole life. A/n: Hey there, this was my first ever post on here and my first fanfic that I've ever written. Hopefully yall liked it as much as I love Enoch. Yeah, I’m insane.

#enoch o'connor #miss peregrines #mphfpc #romance #fanfic #finlay macmillan #enoch o'connor x reader #enoch o'connor reader insert #reader insert #x reader #enoch o connor #enoch o connor x reader #enoch o'connor imagine #enoch o connor imagine #enoch x reader