#opening Elle's vault
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I was tagged by @padmedala (thanks bestie <3)
Rules: answer the following questions without repeating the same song!
favorite song: Enchanted
favorite big hit: You Belong with Me
favorite deep cut: Last Kiss
favorite album opener: State of Grace
favorite track five: My Tears Ricochet
favorite bonus/vault track: If This Was a Movie (bonus) and Forever Winter (vault)
favorite music video: Blank Space
Tagging: @nothingsnews, @thealcottpdf, @stood-onthecliffside, @rebeccasweltons, @wdtv, @placeinthisworld, @wllbyers, @elle-smells, @incandescent-afterglow, @ketterdam-snack-bar and anyone else who wants to do this!
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For the character thing P3PHeroine?
thanks elle-p !!!!!!!!!! good luck with my character too ^_^)/ !!
i feel like i totally don't talk about her (or tbh anyone outside of ryoji ...) as much as i should .. ! im gonna work to change that \o/ ! starting here :]c
putting this one under a cut because it actually got suuuper long ^_^;; whoops !
favourite thing about them:
she exists !!!!!!!!!!!! and she's so cool . she's like, devastatingly cool . both in her concept and just .. herself .... move over chad narukami losers !!!!!!!!!! especially in her exclusive links, her kindness and kick-ass-ness and depth comes out in full force and i love her so much for it. i know i'm a ryominahead, but i miss her everyday !!!!!!!!
least favourite thing about them:
not her fault AT ALL . but aside from how underrepresented she is, i am still a firm believer that she should've received her own ryoji ... it's so sad, because i absolutely adore how they open up to each other, but i've talked to others before about how ryoji in her story as seemingly HER mirror just feels wrong, like he's transplanted from another place (which he literally is .. he's created in minato's image). i would've loved to see how her ryoji could've been more specifically shaped and changed by her quirks + her approach to her trauma
favourite line:
"but, when i first saw him... he didn't feel at all like a stranger to me."
"i can't explain it well, but it was almost like nostalgia.... or some kind of closeness."
"i'm him, and he's me...?"
it's criminal that q2 left it at this.
brOTP:
junpei and hamuko is especially special to me ... more so than minato and junpei really . they bounce off of each other so well, + the extended/enhanced arc where junpei is kind of misogynistic to her alongside the leader jealousy and how that develops is so cool T_T
OTP:
HAMUAIGIS 4EVER !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! aigis im so sorry yr girlfriend is still in the vault . can you imagine femc the answer . would destroy my soul .
nOTP:
her + junpei . .. maybe im a little hater but the GAME doesnt even let you do it lmao ...! it means a lot to me that they're best friends .
other than that, i'd say she fits cutely with nearly everyone else just like minato does !
random headcanon:
okay lets be real . am i stupid ? where does her mp3 player attach ? it just kind of hangs out in midair while minato obviously hangs it on a lanyard . i like to think she's a bit more crafty with it !!! clipping it onto the zipper of her uniform or her scarf or keeping it on a wristband etc ^_^
unpopular opinion:
gwa ........... i should just own this i think, even if people disagree !!
in my opinion ... femc is supplementary content. and that means you should not be playing her route as your first experience in persona 3. just like how i believe you shouldn't read the manga or watch the movies before playing the game. you need to play the male route first.
the way she presents the game's themes through her character and modified story is designed to be in direct opposition and contract with minato's route, and enhances both routes to that effect and can totally change your experience when viewing your previous playthrough of the male route and your current route as her through the lens she teaches the player. in a sad sort of way, i am kind of happy reload hasn't enforced this idea that femc is just one of two ways to experience p3 . this isn't a character select .. she's more like a perfect ng+ to me .
song i associate them with:
back to the lighthearted stuff ! cop car by mitski ^_^ easiest answer so far !
favourite picture of them:
either this [below], the cover of persona compilation II, or either of the persona music live/tour 2009 and 2010 artworks ! i'm a shin apologist though, so take that with a grain of salt ;]
i really love how she's shown in opposition with narukami here, how he's looking straight at her but she's not meeting his eye . i would really love to see these two together more !
#thank you as always elle-p !!!!!!!!#this was lots of fun !!!!!!#please don't come after me everyone ehehe ^_^;;
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Re the ask me anything post: ideas for fics (or essays) you haven’t got around to yet?
Oh god...
I will not open the vault at the moment, as I want to sleep tonight, but off the top of my head:
Influences: Zelazny & Sapkowski
I could continue the "Influences" series for a while, tbh, because AS has been kind enough to provide a list of inspirations/potential influences in the 2001 Manuscript Discovered in a Dragon's Cave. As I read and flip through other authors' works, new associations arise.
Meta-framings & philosophies in the Saga
Deep Dive into Świat króla Artura. Maladie
Paganism & wicca in The Witcher aka Sapkowski the Pagan
An odd transhumanist take on the Origins of Elves
Cyclicality and Recurrence (of Time, Fate, Plot, Universe)
Ask: Shiadhal's disappearance - MIA
Ask: Relations between Aen Seidhe and Aen Elle (Sages)
The Lara Factor (for putting an end to the literally endless stream of asks in my inbox about "if-Lara/Avallac'h then not-Ciri/Avallac'h" & how dare you anyway, actually?)
La Belle Dame sans Merci
Re-read the books with live commentary
Then there are fics and various fic ideas, which... idk when and if ever, given the current economy.
Codename: Glass Hearts (I know, I'm so original). An Eredin character-piece, which turned into an Eredin & Avallac'h intertwined two-shot. Origins, in a sense, but in a weird, eldritch, recurrence & ritual & myth & unknown, cycles'-spanning debts kind of way. (And tbh, Auberon is beginning to feature so prominently idk, i am becoming his advocate next probably.)
Ciri's miniature character-piece. Difficulties of relating and relationships.
Codename: Lara's Favourite Things.
Codename: Futunoir AU. Regular psychodrama programming. You get the picture.
Codename: Cattlethieves. Ciri's & Galahad's road trip.
Codename: Esterhazy. How Ciri's sword came to her. Lore fill-in.
A haunt-piece - post-books - about Ciri, motherhood, grief, and insanity.
GwE, but we don't talk about it.
Bunch of snippets which I want to put in a collection.
#asks#wiedźmin#witcher#ciri#eredin#woman plans god laughs#witcher meta#the witcher books#andrzej sapkowski#personal#writing#roger zelazny
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Episode 172 : Yield To None
"Do you wanna be dope, or do you wanna deal it?"
- Common
All Hip-Hop at a nice steady pace - but a varied platter of vibes - for this episode, as I celebrate my birth month!
Great personal news : I'm very proud to be included in the new "Hidden Histories : Black in Manchester" resource by Parise Carmichael-Murphy - have a read!
Twitter : @airadam13
Twitch : @airadam13
Playlist/Notes
Meyhem Lauren & DJ Muggs : GT3
From the car-themed "Members Only" 2019 collaboration between Meyhem and Cypress Hill DJ/producer DJ Muggs, this track integrates the sound of some very angry engines as an additional instrument/element of what is otherwise an extremely sparse bit of production - drums and bass only. Meyhem is laid-back and comfortable at this pace, crafting a track that even those of us without a Porsche on the driveway can appreciate - well, as long as our speakers or headphones deliver the goods!
[RZA] Raekwon : Can It All Be So Simple (Remix Instrumental)
You might detect a little sonic garbling where I was using Serato's "stems" feature to try and remove the vocal samples in the hook, but other than that here's the glorious sound of a hard-to-come-by RZA instrumental of a track from the monumental "Only Built 4 Cuban Linx..." LP. Rae, Ghost, and RZA took their track from the Wu-Tang debut LP which was already a classic and subtly made it a little darker, a touch rougher and a little less nostalgic. A masterful remix and rewrite.
Roc Marciano : Ridin' Around
A very different kind of rider music to the opening track, but still with an ominous bassline which helps carry the vintage crime vibes perfectly. This is a deep cut from Roc Marciano's seminal solo debut "Marcberg" album, with his gangster wordplay on full display atop a track with more drum action than on much of his later work.
Showbiz & AG : Trapped
This is one of those records which, despite being by a highly respected group, has likely slipped under your radar. The DITC production legend Showbiz is here under his original name (you can find much of his other work credited as simply "Show") alongside his day one MC AG on this late-night creep number from the 2012 "Mugshot Music" album.
Planet Asia ft. Prodigy : Stick & Move
If you love your dark, underground NYC Hip-Hop, you might have heard this sample used elsewhere, but for the current episode this is the slow, menacing, bi-coastal track that gets the nod. Fresno and Queensbridge in combination as Planet Asia and Prodigy (RIP) go back and forth over an Evidence beat on this 2005 release. Not even a hint of going for the pop audience here, just gutter from start to end. Got to respect it.
Mud Family : Itchy Town
I've been holding onto this one for absolutely years! I first heard this on a "Radio Zero" show courtesy of Dave The Ruf, and it's a dark, brooding piece of UK boom-bap from this highly-regarded north London crew. Centred around the MCs Chester P, Skinnyman, and Mongo, they released their core work in the late 90s and early 00s, with this absolute beast being on their very first wax release, 1997s "The Mud Files, Vol. 1". Production on the EP as a whole is credited to Deckwrecka, Firebomb Fritz, and Mad Money Wah - not sure who did what on this cut, but I applaud them for cooking up a track that still bangs after over twenty-five years!
DJ Premier : Dee Ell P
It's been over a decade since DJ Premier gave us a "Beats That Collected Dust" collection, but there's a good reason for that...as he correctly points out, the beats that end up included have to be given time to collect that dust! With that said, the third edition is out now, and is a good digital pickup while the (likely pricey) vinyl works it's way through distribution to the shops. As for the title of this selection from the new release, I haven't deciphered it yet. "The LP"? Was it a track meant for Large Professor, perhaps? Probably overthinking it - just enjoy the master of the MPC 60 going back into his vaults.
Mabanua ft. Kev Brown : Holdin' It Down
I had completely missed this but was introduced to it by none other than Kev Brown himself when he played it on one of his "Beats 'n' Stuff" shows on Twitch! While he drops plenty of unreleased material, he'll throw in overlooked gems from his discography like this one, a collaboration with Japanese beatmaker Mabanua. Given that Kev is on the mic all the way through, I can only assume that Mabanua did the production here - even though it has that Kev Brown feel in spades!
De La Soul ft. Common : The Bizness
An old classic from some of the greats. If you don't already have De La Soul's "Stakes Is High" album, you can now easily buy digitally or stream it, so get on that! This track has, apart from one regrettable homophobic reference from Common which the label partly censored, bars upon bars of heat on a self-produced track that you can't help but nod your head to. I can also think of at least three Hip-Hop tracks that sampled/scratched lines from this one, which is a sure sign of a piece of work that has your peers paying attention!
Blu & Exile : Berries and Juices
You can't help but bop to this, Exile's beat has an undeniable bounce and while Blu does say "beat so sweet that I ain't even gotta do s--t", he unquestionably lifts it to that next level with a couple of chilled verses. Bonus points for the "Coming To America" reference 🙂 Take heed to the title of the album this is drawn from - "Give Me My Flowers While I Can Still Smell Them" - and apply that sentiment to not only this duo but all the artists you enjoy!
pH7 ft. Access Immortal and DJ Roger Rekless : New York
A long-lost track that only resurfaced for me during the Great Digitisation of 2020-2023! A trans-Atlantic collaboration with German artists pH7 (Cologne) and DJ Roger Rekless (Munich) coming together with Bed-Stuy MC Access Immortal for a jazzy number with solid boom-bap underpinnings, tight cuts, and an overall clean and refreshing sound. You can find this on the somewhat obscure "Blazing Heat" EP,
Ilajide : Ayerloom
Taking it back (ok, not that far back) to 2015 for a beat from "Latex", the first solo LP by one of my favourites, Ilajide of Clear Soul Forces. That drum beat could have come from an 80s Hip-Hop classic, as could the rest of the sounds on the track - and yet, as a whole it doesn't seem of that era. This Detroit beatsmith isn't afraid to go after a certain sonic hardness that other producers might shy away from in the modern era, and it's that banging aggression that helps set him apart.
Kuartz : Glitch In The Ghost
Local beat legend Kuartz released his new LP "Hybrid Dialects" this month, and it's a collection of bassy, techy, angular production that is well worth spending your hard-earned cash on! This was the first track I heard from it, which he debuted earlier in the year at Manchester's WORKINONIT beatmakers event - it was so raw that I had to ask him for an advance copy 😁 I've played it on Twitch a couple of times but now here it is as a taster for the album.
Grand Agent ft. Liv L'Raynge : Ooh-La-Lah
I hadn't heard this for absolutely ages until pulling it out earlier this month, which is a sign that no-one I've been listening to has been playing it either! Grand Agent collaborated with Oxnard production wizard Oh No on the "Under The Circumstances" LP which this track is drawn from, and the album has the husky-voiced MC Liv L'Raynge as the featured guest - with this track being her standout performance. She burns it down on the opening verse over Oh No's heavy beat, and really steals the whole show to be honest!
Coyote ft. Shaquille O'Neal : 3 Lokos
I first heard an excerpt of this on Instagram - not sure it was on Shaq's page, but either way it sent me to go ahead and find the full version of this new single! Coyote is the pairing of Ladies Love Guapo and Ricky Blanco, neither of whom I know already but they both spit rugged on this track, which they produced alongside Brian Lee and on which they were specifically going for a hardcore 90s feel. I know, I know...you want to know about Shaq. Well...he kills his verse. The doctorate-holding four-time NBA champion has been recording since 1993's guest appearance on "What's Up Doc?" by the Fu-Schnickens and his "Shaq Diesel" LP, and despite a long break he comes out spitting with that hunger!
K-Otix : World Renown
Classic underground Hip-Hop right here from 2000, and now available along with the rest of the "Universal" LP on Bandcamp, so no reason not to put some dough in the artists' pockets! You might hear this record and think NYC, but nope - this is a Houston record! It might have been releaed on Bronx Science record, but the skills are all Texas-raised. The incredibly memorable beat comes from the man known as The ARE, who has also done some amazing work outside the crew, and Damien and Micah take the vocal reins. Big record.
DJ Spinna : Surely (Instrumental)
As we move with the wind-down, here's a beautiful track from the studio of DJ Spinna, taken from the instrumental release of his solo debut on BBE, "Here To There". With Ovasoul7's vocals gone, the guitar of the late UK jazz guitar legend Ronny Jordan and the programming work of DJ Spinna get to take centre stage, giving the track a different dimension.
Method Man ft. Ghostface Killah : Afterparty
An appropriate record to end the show with! A dope sing-songy exchange between Meth and Ghost starts the track off, and the melodic approach pops up throughout the track in between straight up bars over a smooth beat from a producer credited simply as "Q", but better known to most as Qur'an from Da Youngstas (sorry, can't bring myself to put the incorrect apostrophe in!) Still my favourite track on "Tical 0 : The Prequel", just as it was on first listen.
Please remember to support the artists you like! The purpose of putting the podcast out and providing the full tracklist is to try and give some light, so do use the songs on each episode as a starting point to search out more material. If you have Spotify in your country it's a great way to explore, but otherwise there's always Youtube and the like. Seeing your favourite artists live is the best way to put money in their pockets, and buy the vinyl/CDs/downloads of the stuff you like the most!
Check out this episode!
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Music Tag
Shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and post the first ten tracks, then tag ten people! (sorry. i am sleeby) (if you would like to do it off the back of this and tag me as having tagged you please do)
Tagged by @goldenaltar
Try Jesus - Elle King (we're going to see The Chicks in November and she's opening for them so I was like 'got to get my pre-concert studying done' and then promptly started listening to Come Get Your Wife on repeat with very little else in between. almost the entire album is on here)
Rainmaker - Bruce Springsteen (every month or two I get gut-punch obsessed with one particular Springsteen song. This month's is Rainmaker)
Ohio - Elle King (see above)
Bummin' Cigarettes - Maren Morris (good song. it's a good song guys)
You and Me On the Rock - Brandi Carlile (okay this one's from the state of disrepair playlist)
Any Other Way - Bruce Springsteen (this cover just slaps)
Sugar - Maren Morris (I retroactively added this to the Lips Like Sugarcane playlist when I started listening to the album. That is not why it's on here just a fun fact)
Small Town Saturday Night - Hal Ketchum ("Bobby told Lucy the world ain't round / drops off sharp at the edge of town / 'Lucy you know this world must be flat / 'cause when people leave town they never come back'". lyrics i sing with intense relish)
Timeless - Taylor Swift (is it my favourite Speak Now vault song? no. is it somehow the one i've played most anyway? yes.)
The Bones - Maren Morris (yeah. this is also state of disrepair)
#we've once again managed to hit none from my top 5 and only one from top 10#8 are from the bottom half of the playlist#(two that aren't are you and me on the rock and try jesus)#music#mine#goldenaltar
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Fairer-than-a-Fairy by Charlotte-Rose de Caumont de La Force
Plus Belle que Fée, qui commençoit à s'accoûtumer aux prodiges prenant Désirs par la main repassa dans sa chambre, & trouvant le quarré où étoit la serrure dont on lui avoit parlé, elle l'ouvrit avec la clé d'or, & entra dans une chambre, dont la magnificence la surprit & la toucha, parce qu'elle y vit partout des soins de son amant. Elle étoit jonchée des plus belles fleurs, elle exhaloit un parfum divin. Il y avoit à un des bouts de cette charmante chambre, une table couverte de tout ce qui pouvoit contenter la délicatesse du goût, & deux fontaines de liqueurs qui couloient dans des bassins de Porphire. Les jeunes princesses s'assirent dans deux chaises d'ivoire enrichies d'Emeraudes, elles mangèrent avec appétit, & quand elles eurent soupé, la table disparut, & il s'éleva à la place où elle étoit un bain délicieux, où elles se mirent toutes deux. A six pas de là on voyoit une superbe toilette & de grandes mannes d'or trait, toutes pleines de linge d'une propreté à donner envie de s'en servir. Un lit d'une forme singulière & d'une richesse extraordinaire, terminoit cette malheureuse chambre, qui étoit bordée d'orangers dans des caisses d'or garnies de rubis, & des colonnes de cornaline soutenoient tout autour la voûte somptueuse de cette chambre,
Fairer, who was beginning to grow accustomed to the miraculous, took Desire by the hand and passed through again to her own chamber. Finding the square panel with the lock about which she had been told, she unlocked it with the golden key and entered a chamber whose magnificence both surprised and touched her, for everywhere she saw the care of her suitor. She was undone by the sight of the loveliest flowers and breathed their divine perfume. At one end of this enchanting room, there was a table covered with everything that could gratify the most refined tastes and two fountains of liqueurs that flowed into basins of porphyry. The young Princesses seated themselves on two ivory chairs enriched with emeralds. They ate with appetite, and when they had finished, the table disappeared, and in its place appeared a delightful bath where they admired their reflections. Six steps away, they saw a superb toilette and several large golden wicker baskets filled with linens so clean they could not help but ache to make use of them. A bed of singular style displaying extraordinary wealth completed this prison chamber. The room was bordered by orange trees in gold planter boxes garnished with rubies. Columns of carnelian supported its sumptuous vaulted ceiling, {LC}
Fairer than a Fairy, who began to be accustomed to wonders, leading Désirs by the hand, returned into her own chamber, and finding the panel obtaining the lock of which the stranger had spoken, she opened it with her golden key, and entered an apartment, the magnificence of which both surprised and affected her, as she saw in everything it contained the attention of her lover. It was strewn with the most beautiful flowers, and exhaled a divine perfume. At one end of this charming room there was a table covered with all that could gratify the most refined taste, and two fountains of liqueurs which flowed into basins of porphyry. The young Princesses seated themselves in two ivory chairs, enriched with emeralds; they eat with a good appetite, and when they had supped, the table disappeared, and in its place arose a delicious bath, into which they stepped together. At a few places from them they observed a superb toilet-table, and large baskets of gold wire full of linen of such exquisite purity that it made them long to make use of it. A bed of singular form and extraordinary richness, occupied the further end of this marvelous chamber, which was lined with orange-trees in golden boxes studded with rubies, while rows of cornelian columns sustained the sumptuous roof, {JP}
Plus belle que Fée, who was beginning to become accustomed to marvels, taking Désirs by the hand, returned to her room; and finding the panel with the lock that had been described to her, she opened it with the golden key, & entered a room the magnificence be of which surprised and touched her because, everywhere, she saw the cares of her lover. It was strewn with the most beautiful flowers; it emitted a divine aroma. At one end of this charming room, there was a table covered with all that could satisfy a delicate taste, and two fountains of liqueur, flowing in basins of porphyry. The young princesses sat in two ivory chairs enriched with emeralds; they ate with appetite, and when they had eaten, the table disappeared, and in its place, a tantalizing bath arose in which they both entered. Six pace away, a superb dressing-table could be seen, and large baskets of gold weave, entirely filled with fabric of such freshness that it made one want to use them. A singularly-shaped bed of extraordinary richness completed this unfortunate room, which was bordered with orange-trees, in golden boxes encrusted with rubies, columns of carnelian around the room held its sumptuous vault. {ML}
Charlotte-Rose de Caumont de La Force is best known today as the author of Persinette, a forerunner to Rapunzel. One storyteller of a cluster of aristocratic French women in the salons near the end of the 17th century engaging with tales of Faeries. In 1697 she also conceived of Plus Belle que Fée, translated in English as Fairer-than-a-Fairy or simply Fairer. A tale with beautiful people particularly a princess so known, and as so boldly named as to incur the anger of a Faerie Queen. Alongside another abducted Princess Désirs, the previously sheltered Fairer is tasked with seemingly hopeless trials. Yet aided by Phraates, who up and announces to Fairer his devotion, the defiant son of the Queen of the Faeries Nabote. Ultimately Fairer better comes into her own, experiencing companionship, pleasure, and love in the process.
British dramatist James Robinson Planché translated and included the story in the English collection Four-and-twenty Fairy Tales in 1858. And so, it has since been republished in different collections for over a century. Too showing up in academic sources. Additionally, fully translated anew (though only in eBook) in 2019 by Laura Christensen who has an abiding love for French folklore and the period. Christensen through the introduction and translator notes goes into several details of the process itself, perspectives, choices, offering many details and parallels as well as areas of divergence with Planché. Whose translation is further included for the reader to compare. Both translations and the original do lend themselves to questions.
I had not read the tale in translation before, only the French. Further intrigued because of scholarship by Associate Professor Marianne Legault with a Sapphic reading to the tale. Which I admit I favour. (See Legaults’s Female Intimacies in Seventeenth-Century French Literature translated in collaboration with Ramine Adl.) So, in the spirit of the more the merrier, I copied the English translation from the discussion there of the scene I choose to quote up above. One moment among others where intimacy between women is reflected. An appeal at the heart of Fairer is the centering of the female characters, how they behave towards each other and contain different aspects.
There’s a playfulness to the work of Mlle de Le Force I’ve read which bids layers and subtext. She could deliver a good bit historical fiction and satire too. For several of the women associated with the salons there was gossip and scandal of one kind or another. Mlle de La Force not untouched by it either, but writing attributed to her in her 40s is apparently what eventually resulted in King Louis XIV expelling her from court for a decent number of years, spent in a convent. Her intimate fantasy world also has a fire, seems tinged with suggestion, and eroticism. For Fairer Mlle de Le Force refashions previous Greek and Roman classical mythos including those of Eros & Psyche and Artemis.
Countless tales can mirror an implicit bias and conflation of goodness as youth and beauty vs evil as age or infirmity and unattractiveness. Mlle de La Force too lingers on the beautiful nobility, divine and gives her antagonist a pejorative name also borne of a belief about some Faeries in folklore. Yet, as the heroines who are confined but daring conform or not to certain patterns, so there is more to Nabote than being a slightly silly timeworn little Faerie Queen who tricks and abducts pretty princesses. Like Aphrodite in Eros & Psyche an offense has been committed, as herself and other Faeries are relegated, neglected, or forgotten. It’s too a problem of status and influence. The tasks Nabote dole out to the young women, set to be unachievable or better deadly, also at a closer look appear to hold other points. Mlle de Le Force particularly raises questions of authority and injustice in that the protagonists also suffer for having no need of the blessings of the powerful Faeries. Or about the judgement of the powers that be over Faeries too. The figure of the Goddess Artemis greatly comes in nearer the end. Where others have failed, Fairer is tasked in liberating an exceedingly virtuous Queen of the Faeries who some time ago was turned by Supreme Intelligences into a silver footed doe after things went awry with an admirer. I won’t spoil more but the ending makes one think on variations amid the usual HEA and how it settles things with Nabote.
During a trend in a still enduring folklore genre Mlle de Le Force was able to convey a number of ideas when it comes to education, friendship, sexuality, courting, marriage, love, agency, justice and power. The intertextuality, symbolism, and language all present fun with dual meaning. Overall, too being a bit difficult to clue in a very different audience today or, emulate in another language. But that’s also one of the neat elements about folklore. It’s cultural and social not static. It fades and rises with us. In both large and personal ways. Every moment and form it appears, another bit passed over, taken, added, transformed in the art of language and storytelling old as time.
#fairy tales#17th century french literature#l'âge classique de la littérature française#plus belle que fée#fairer-than-a-fairy#charlotte-rose de caumont de la force#WIT month#cw: kidnapping confinement peril mention of suicide
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Walter Trout Entertains at the Cheese and Grain
Walter Trout Entertains at the Cheese and Grain to a capacity crowd opening from Elles Bailey is superb perfect live music magic
With Elles Bailey opening a night of music magic
On a warm Somerset evening, a sell-out 600 crowd have come to pay homage to no stranger to these parts, the wonderful Walter Trout. I was particularly interested to see the much-vaulted award-winning support act, Bristol native, Elles Bailey. I saw her several years ago at Skegness and had heard encouraging reports on her progress. Any doubts I…
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Baby Just Say Yes
Relationship: 12th Doctor x Reader
Warnings: brief mention of drowning - but not graphically described, and some spoilers for War and Peace (the book, although I suppose it would apply to the TV show as well, since they're the same story)
Word Count: 2,704
Summary: When you, Bill, and the Doctor debate the merits of how many doughnuts are too many, it accidentally leads to a revelation on an event you hadn't actually known had happened.
Request: Bill finds out that the reader is "married" to Doc and at some point Bill jokes calling the two her grandparents
A/N: I took the route of reader knowing the Doctor for years and years, just so it was easier to justify the nature of the Doctor and readers relationship. As a result, it's got some implied past 11 x Reader. Hope that’s okay!
Your finger trailed along the spines of the collection of books on one the shelves in the second level of the console room. You paused when your eyes landed on a familiar novel, one you had yet to crack open, but really wanted to. If so you could boast to the Doctor that you'd read it.
War and Peace.
1,225 pages. The Doctor had never had the patience for it. You took the novel out from the shelf, only for a plume of dust to pool into the air. It tickled your nose, making it itch.
Then you sneezed.
You rubbed your finger along the base of your nose in a vain attempt to scratch it, and narrowed your eyes at the dusty bookshelf. The Doctor had said he was going to dust it.
A muffled voice spoke from below, it took you a moment to place what was said, but you were pretty sure it was ‘bless you’.
You were on a planet the Doctor and you had discovered in his last face, back when he had been younger, had a longer chin, and was far more obsessed with sweets. It was famous for its doughnuts, the best in the galaxy, the Doctor had decided.
And that decision had stuck, since, when the Doctor had told Bill about the planet, she had decided that they absolutely must go.
You poked your head over the bannister and locked eyes with Bill. She was holding a doughnut in her mouth, and her hands were full balancing two trays. You realised it must have been Bill who spoke, because the Doctor was only now coming in, holding a near empty tray of doughnuts in one hand.
“Hey,” you said, and you placed your book on one of the chairs before hopping down the stairs. “You two get enough?”
Bill snorted, dropping her boxes onto the console and taking a bite out of her doughnut. “Not even. He,” she nodded towards the Doctor. “Has already eaten nearly every single one out of that box.”
Your eyebrows flew into your hairline, and you snatched the box out of the Doctor’s hands. You waved the Doctor away when he protested, and instead eyed the boxes contents. There was a single doughnut left. Out of nine doughnuts, and only one was left. It was round, with no hole in the middle, and a good layer of icing sugar sprinkled on top.
You raised an eyebrow at him. “Feeling sick yet?”
The Doctor raised his own eyebrow at you, and you knew, instinctually, that it was more effective than yours. “You do not get to lecture me on health.”
It was a weak rebuttal.
“You’ve had eight of them Doctor,” you took the final doughnut out of the box. “Eight.”
He snatched it out of your hand, and your face fell. “Timelord,” he replied, and then took a large bite out of the final doughnut. The Doctor immediately winced, then hissed. He pulled the doughnut away with a frown, and you saw the remnants of hot jam on his lips.
A swell of vindication ran through you, and, under the guise of wiping some of the jam off, you took the doughnut off of him. You let the air cool the jam slightly, not wanting to burn yourself too. “Eight,” you said again. “Is more than enough.”
“The very basics of my physiology are different,” he gestured to both his hearts for good measure, then tried to reach for the doughnut, you were ready though, and you held it out of reach. “I’ll be fine.”
“Just because you've got two hearts,” you said. “Doesn't mean you've got two stomachs. At the very least you'll get indigestion.”
And with that you took a hungry bite out of the very doughnut he had just stolen from you. It was good, they’d made it with raspberry jam, and the stark taste of the sharp raspberry against the sweet sugar warmed you. You gave him a satisfied smirk, and turned to Bill. “What about you, what’s yours?”
Bill had been watching you both, her head swinging between you like she was watching a tennis match. She had just bitten into her doughnut, and she looked slightly stunned that you had spoken to her.
“It’s really good,” she said, but her mouth was full so it sounded more like ‘ts r’lly gud. She swallowed, then continued talking. “Can’t remember what they said this one was,” and she turned to the Doctor, holding the doughnut up so both you and the Doctor could see its contents. It was filled with a rich purple paste. “What’s supposed to be in it?”
“Ube,” the Doctor said coolly, and he shuffled over to your side. You sidestepped him, taking another bite of the doughnut. He wasn’t getting it that easily. “It’s from the Philippines, traditionally.”
“We should’ve gotten more,” Bill said. “I think these are my favourite so far.”
This was the beauty of this planet, they were obsessed with Earth doughnuts, so they’d preserved every culturally significant recipe that Earth had, 1,893 – the Doctor had counted. They even had cronut’s, of all things, though you’d yet to try them.
The Doctor scowled at the other two boxes, and you stepped carefully in front of them.
“I chose a new book,” you said, which was a blatant redirection of conversation, but you powered through. “One I’m sure you haven’t finished.”
From the corner of your eyes, you noticed Bill was watching the pair of you again, as if a spectator of a sport.
The Doctor studied you carefully, and you knew he was humouring this new conversation. “That’s an unlikely assumption.
“War and Peace,” you said, with only a small hint of pride.
The Doctor cocked his head to the side, considering it. “You’re right, actually. I got bored once the Anatole and Natasha affair got going. Couldn’t visit the opera for a couple decades either.”
Your face fell.
Bill spluttered. “Did you just spoil it?”
The Doctor waved a hand. “The book's over 150 years old. If Y/N doesn't know about the ending by now then that's not really my fault.”
You vaguely heard Bill breathe out an Oh my God.
“That's one of the most arrogant things you've ever said,” you said, still processing the shock of how he had so simply said what he had. “And I once listened to you drone on for an hour on how you choreographed the macarena.”
“I did that in a different face though, younger, more nimble. I’ll have to tell you about how I taught Claude Debussy how to shred.”
“Like, on the guitar, or in the ocean?” Bill asked.
“Yes,” the Doctor said, and then he went to grab for the rest of the doughnut in your hand.
“Oh no,” you said, side-stepping him. “No more, especially not after you spoiled the book for me.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he said. “It’s not like I told you how Andrei dies in a gruesome battle against the French, and Natasha coincidently finds herself by his side as he dies on his deathbed, even though they’d long parted. Honestly.”
Your eyes bugged out of your skull, you could feel it, as though they were ready to up and roll away.
“Is Andrei an important character?” Bill asked slowly, and then, she meekly added. “I haven’t seen the show.”
You spoke very slowly, your voice low. You narrowed your eyes to the Doctor. The death of a major character was a pretty big spoiler. “I cannot believe you.”
The Doctor winced slightly. “I just rambled like I was 900 years old again, didn’t I?”
“At least,” you breathed. You swallowed your exasperation, and then, suddenly, you sneezed. It was loud, like it had to announce itself to the world, and you rocked backwards slightly. You sniffled.
“Bless you,” Bill said again, but her mouth was full, so it sounded like ‘bleshooo’.
You gave her your thanks, then turned to the Doctor, your mind going to the reason why you were sneezing in the first place. “Dusting,” you said. “You haven’t dusted yet. You said you would.”
The Doctor waved a hand. “I will, I’ll get round to it.”
“You offered, Doctor,” you continued, and in the back of your mind, you wondered if it sounded like you were nagging him . “No one asked you to do it, Nardole didn’t even ask. You offered.”
“You’re in a mood,” The Doctor said suddenly, and he leaned forward, so his big nose was almost against yours.. “Are you sick?
“I – what, no, I’m not sick,” you said, and you stumbled back suddenly. His eyes were so large, so close, and it was momentarily disarming. “You can be so infuriating sometimes, you know that?”
“You tell me constantly.”
Bill’s face grew into a large, delighted grin. “Oh my God,” she said. “You're like an old married couple.”
You turned to her, stunned. Or course, you were with the Doctor, but the idea of being married to him… well, he had done it, you knew he had, you’d been there, several years ago now when he’d had a different face with a long chin and an affinity for custard.
It certainly hadn’t been to you, though.
Of course, time had been broken and you’d been wearing an itchy eyepatch, but schematics.
You’d also seen the Doctor, a much younger face, one you had never travelled with, marry Queen Elizabeth the first. You’d been a ring bearer. It had been too fun teasing all three of faces of the Doctor that day for it.
But no. You had certainly never married him.
It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to, quite honestly, the thought had never crossed your mind. You had been so content in your relationship with him, how sure it felt, how right it was, that you’d never thought about anything more.
The Doctor, too, gawked, but for an entirely different reason. "You called me old.”
Bill glanced up and down the doctor's frame, which was enough to make her point.
“Fine,” the Doctor grumbled. “I'm old.”
“How are we like an old married couple?” You pressed, because the Doctor was not getting the key part of Bill’s statement.
“The bickering,” she said. “It's totally what couples do.”
You gaped and turned to the Doctor for some sort of guidance. You waited for him to shut it down. To laugh and just say it was because you were comfortable around one another. Instead, the Doctor only shrugged. "I mean,” he said. “Technically we are married'
You did a double take. Married. You were, apparently, already married to the Doctor.
What?
Bill gasped. “What - no, since when? Why didn't you tell me?”
“Yeah,” you said, finding your voice. “I'd quite like to know too.”
Bill turned to you. “Wait what do you mean?”
“This is news to me,” you continued. “We're married? Where was my something old and something blue?”
The Doctor gestured to himself, then around the console room - the TARDIS. So those were, apparently, the something old and something blue. A bit on the nose.
He raised an eyebrow, and you wondered if your expression was as confused as you felt. “On the foreshore of Tralite,” he prompted. “With the Arhkor embassy.”
That... that hadn't been a wedding. Had it?
You mind went back to that evening, so many years ago now, back when you had been travelling with Clara, back when the doctor knew who Clara was. Your heart clenched for a moment, you didn't think about those times often. You felt alone in those memories, like you were the only one who held them, could cherish them.
But you remembered, quite clearly.
Here's what had happened:
Every decade, the Arhkor would sacrifice a person with renowned intelligence to the foreshore of Tralite, a beach that was more pebble than sand. The sacrifice would sit in the water until they drowned, and their memories would be recorded into the water. Living memory, the Doctor had said.
But the sacrifice that year, a young girl named Ardiel, whose bright purple hair had matched her purple scales, had been so young, and she hadn’t wanted to die.
So the Doctor, in all his foolish martyring glory, had marched out into the sea himself.
And of course, you couldn’t let him do that, so you followed.
“That wasn’t a wedding,” you said. “You were trying to sacrifice yourself to an ocean.”
You remembered it, your hand clasped in his, and the water settling over you both. You hadn’t been scared, which, in hindsight, terrified you. You should have been scared, but you weren’t. You had felt calm, at ease, safe even.
You couldn’t remember exactly why you had both been spared, but the water washed away, leaving you both wet and cold – but alive. And the water had never asked for another sacrifice since.
“It was a marrying of the minds,” The Doctor said, enunciating the words like he was trying to drill the meaning into your brain. “The water had been the officiant.”
“This is so weird,” Bill said, and she took another bite out of her doughnut.
You found yourself agreeing with Bill. “Doctor, that makes exactly zero sense.”
“The water had found something worth more than intelligence,” the Doctor continued. “It had found love. So when it copied and pasted our minds, that’s all it found. It unified us. It was a wedding.”
You rubbed your forehead with your fingers, trying to process this.
“I gotta say,” Bill commented, and she’d finished the doughnut she had been eating and was now fishing another out of a box. She pulled out a brown doughnut that was an oval shape with a silt down the middle. “I dunno how many people can say their grandparents got married by an ocean.”
“Ox-tongue,” the Doctor said, and he nodded to the pastry in Bill’s hand. Then, he considered her statement. “And that’s true, you should use that. It’s a good pick up line, should impress a girl or two.”
Bill scrunched up her face. “Okay, one; Ox tongue? Seriously? That can’t be right.”
The Doctor shrugged. “It’s Cantonese. A friend once told me about it. Apparently it references the shape of the dough. That being said, it might also be horse ears.”
“Okay,” Bill raised a sceptical eyebrow. “I’ll maybe half trust it, because it doesn’t sound right, but I don’t know enough to prove you wrong,” she paused before speaking again. “Also, two; I don’t think those two can get mixed up. Three, I’m never, ever using that as a pick up line. Not ever. It’s terrible.”
Thankfully, the Doctor was so focused on Bill’s last point, that he disregarded what she had said earlier. “It’s an excellent line! You’ll get to teach the girls something new!”
“Sorry, circle back,” you said, because your brain wasn’t computing. You weren’t even sure what you needed to address first. The marriage comments? The grandparents comment? The ox tongue?
Both Bill and the Doctor looked to you expectantly.
You pointed to the Doctor. “First of all, still wasn’t a wedding,” you then pointed to Bill. “Second of all, grandparents? I know he’s old but I’m certainly not.”
“Yeah but you’re with him,” she said, after swallowing part of her doughnut. She took another eager bite.
“He is sitting right here,” the Doctor grumbled. “But alright, if it wasn’t a wedding up to your standards, we can always do something different,” he stood up. “We can arrange it.”
Your brain short circuited, and you had to reprocess what the Doctor had said.
We can always do something different. We can arrange it.
Had the Doctor just proposed to you?
You were so stunned you didn’t even protest as he plucked the remaining doughnut from out of your fingers, wandering out of the console room. “Let me know,” he called out. “And we’ll get to reading that Tolstoy.”
You sat there, bug eyed, and turned to Bill. She was wearing a similar expression, she’d dropped her own doughnut, which sat dejected on top of one of the doughnut boxes.
“Did what I think just happened, happen?” You asked, your voice only slightly shrill.
Bill nodded. “I – uh, yeah. I think so.”
You stood up, and sprinted after him.
A/N^2: I gotta give huge thanks to the ever-sweet @phxntxmx, who pointed out there was a bit of confusion in how I described one of the doughnuts here. I’ve tried to clear it up and make it a bit more consistent, since it’s not something I know about for sure.
#the doctor x reader#twelfth doctor imagine#12th doctor x reader#twelfth doctor x reader#12th doctor#Doctor Who#DW#Elle: Speaks#opening Elle's vault#vault fic
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What are the top three things that happened in the last year or so that make you so confident they are still together? No “sources”. No small coincidences. Real things that make sense. No eye theory allowed! Go!
ok anon, i’ll bite!
-taylor’s sudden and sustained use of baby, child, and father imagery and language from lover era through folklore and evermore and now. karlie has done some of it too.
i could list it all up but this post would get very long and it’s, you know, a touchy subject. but i think it’s been pretty noticeable if you’ve been open to it. plus idk, taylor creates a whole album about a secret love and talks about wanting to be her lover’s end game but somehow it’s not supposed to include starting a family? and if it does it needs to be done publicly?
-taylor’s continued use of the crest symbol (something kaylors identified far earlier than swifties)
beyond the Lover music video, we see it in the evermore album photos, and she’s now used it on The Vault. it’s the snake looking like an S and the butterfly looking like a K, for me. plus.. crests are made for *families*
-social interactions with mutual acquaintances.
for example, cara delevigne going to see taylors SNL performance and also publicly sending karlie bottles of wine. misty copeland dancing for taylor’s AMA performance and then also posting a pic wearing a LIKE A KLOSS tshirt to instagram. lily aldridge wishing karlie a happy birthday using a pic where taylor’s right there in the frame. the haim sisters hanging out both with taylor and with karlie on multiple occasions. etc. and then brandon maxwell adding taylor swift songs to his runway shows, and cs often featuring pics on instagram of taylor in dresses he’s designed. all this while karlie hosted project runway with them as judge and mentor. if you believe taylor and karlie were ever together, these kinds of sustained moments should give you pause because they just wouldn’t happen if there was a breakup.
***
honorable mentions:
-taylor making the noticeable public pivot towards “fictitious songwriting” with folklore and evermore.
this isn’t so much a proof as something that i think really sets her up well for the future. for me, trying to wean the public off of searching for connections between lyrics and her real life is a way of protecting what she has. plus it has allowed her to write about a greater variety of things.
-the red rose dresses
i’m sorry say what you will about twinning being abstract (yes sometimes it is) but, this kind of thing is just obvious. what’s more, we can deduce that taylor started working on that video before karlie started designing her dress, and karlie then designed hers, debuted it, and taylor then went and did the video without change. to a similar extent you could argue a similar pattern with the yellow dresses in 2019 (elle cover/off-white runway) and the orange thing (yntcd/carolina herrera vogue cover/adidas/match.com) that went into 2020. there’s a pattern of one of them debuting a look, the other puts out a similar look, then it gets revealed the other was working on it earlier, etc… plenty of opportunities to course correct these bold primary color twinning moments if they didn’t want anything to do with one another. and in general, they’ve still twinned a lot in this post lover era
-taylor continuing to wear the vsfs ring (which is undeniably a kaylor bat signal)
on significant days such as kissgate anniversary in 2019, while accepting an award in 2021, and at her birthday party just this month. honestly i could write a dissertation on other jewelry things (karlie wearing the cartier necklace through the pandemic onset and her pregnancy, the alison lou of it all… or the awe le duo necklace lolol, but the angel wing ring takes the cake)
moreover, it’s just all this and every other thing, in aggregate. they’ve both maintained my attention!
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Something Immortal
word count - 3k
warnings: suicide attempt, drug use, addiction, cursing, teenagers being gross
pairing: model!Todoroki x canon!Bakugo
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Holy shit guys he posted!!" Mina squeals, vaulting herself over the couch to reach the rest of the Bakusquad sitting on the common room carpet. An old original copy of Monopoly splayed out in the center of their group.
"Ooh, show us! Show us!" Kaminari leans forward, swiping half of the properties off the board in the process.
Sero groans, "Dude you do this every time!!"
The blond pouts, "Hey it's your fault I was losing."
Kirishima just chuckles, picking up his dog piece from jail and throwing it into the box.
"Your smart people game can wait," Mina tugs on Sero's ponytail, "He hasn't posted in weeks."
"Oh my god he's so fucking hot," Kaminari's knee-jerk reaction is whispered as soon as he sees the post.
Todoroki Shouto, one of Japan- and America's- most well-known models. The teenager, who happens to be their age, regularly models for magazines like Vogue, Joker, and Elle. The teenager who has starred in countless American and Japanese short and independent films. The teenager who just so happens to be the son of the number one hero, Endeavor.
No one knows his quirk, but it just adds to the mystery. Some people theorize he's quirkless, but others think he's got a crazy dangerous quirk, which is why he's a model instead of an aspiring hero. Not like he's not perfect for the job, with his gorgeous bi-colored hair and heterochromatic eyes. The scar on his left side somehow only adds to his beauty. It doesn't matter what your sexuality is, you simp for Todoroki Shouto.
But that's the obvious, now this photo- this photo.
"It's ethereal, I've never seen him look so serene before."
"He's an actual angel."
"How is he only eighteen?!"
Mina nods as Sero, Kaminari, and Kirishima go through the seven stages of grief just looking at the photo.
Kirishima's eyes dart to Todoroki's username... which is just Shouto. In fact, the Todoroki name isn't mentioned once on his account, a fact that has hundreds of conspiracy theories on its own.
"Hey Meens, can we stalk him real quick? I wanna see who he's following."
She grins, "Well anything for you, munchkin."
Sero snorts. Their couple nicknames never fail to amuse anyone within hearing range.
"Ugh gross," Kaminari gags as Mina giggles, swiping off of the picture (which already has over 600,000) and onto his main page.
It's simple, plain yet elegant in the way only a PR manager could manage.
The bio is a link to his most recent shoot with some magazine that Kirishima doesn't recognize, the profile picture is a rare shot of him smiling, a blue checkmark, and a follower count of over four million.
His following count, however, is the shocker.
"He only follows fourteen people?" Sero whispers, clicking on the number.
"Huh," Mina turns the phone slightly so she can see, "Who is he following?"
"Let's see," Sero squints, eyes scrolling down the list, "Hawks... his siblings... Mirko... some American models... his agency's profile... and- wait, isn't that Bakugo?"
"HAH?" Mina yells, whipping the phone around and clicking on the profile.
Sure enough, a slew of photos shows up on her screen, all of their resident blond pomeranian glaring at the camera in various locations.
"He- WHAT?? It must be a glitch!" Mina scrambles frantically, eyes darting across the screen.
"Uh, yeah," Kirishima chuckles, "a glitch."
Mina scrolls up numerous times as if refreshing the page will help.
"I mean what other explanation can you think of?! It's not like Thee Todoroki Shouto would know our Bakugou, they're totally in different leagues." Mina sounds absolutely scandalized, causing Sero to laugh.
"I don't know, Meens, the proof is right there. We should ask him about it!"
"And what- DIE?" Kaminari reasons.
Sero nods, "Fair point."
"Pussies." Mina stands, planting her manicured hands on the edge of the couch, "I'll ask him myself."
-
"I REFUSE." A fourteen-year-old Shouto screams at his father.
"what do you mean you refuse? Shouto she's a lovely girl, and you need to procreate while you're still young if you're not going to become a hero like I want. You get one or the other." Todoroki Enji grabs his youngest child by the arm to lead him out of the kitchen, but Shouto jerks out of his grip. "Wh- SHOUTO."
"I'm going to live with Fuyumi. She'll take care of me." He holds his ground, shaking his father off when he tries once again to physically lead him out of the room.
"OH?" Enji bellows a laugh, "And how do you expect she'll find the money to take you in? Raising a teenager is expensive, you know, and she's only a simple school teacher."
"She's not a simple anything. And I- I'll find a way. We'll be fine. I already talked to several agencies."
"...agencies?"
-
"Wait, Mina!!" Kaminari calls after the girl, but she's a woman on a mission and there's no stopping her.
They arrive at Bakugo's door in a heap, Kaminari clawing at Mina while she knocks calmly. Kirishima and Sero stand to watch because they have no idea what else to do. (They're just as nervous as Kaminari but they're more afraid of Mina if they're being honest.)
A crash comes from inside the room, but soon their resident angry boy is slamming open his door and glaring at them. The normalcy is comforting.
"Do you fuckers realize what fucking time it is?"
"Yes~" Mina coos sweetly, "I know old men need their sleep but it's only 8:30 and we have a question."
He sighs aggressively and stretches his arms behind his back, cracking his shoulders and then his neck, Kaminari whimpers in fear.
"Alright, what do you want pinky?"
She's practically vibrating with excitement at this point.
"Why is Todoroki Shouto following you on Instagram?"
Bakugo seems to mull over this for a moment, and then he just shrugs.
Mina nods like this answers any part of her question, "That's what I thought, funny glitch. He's pretty hot though, right?"
The rest of the group nods emphatically.
Bakugo scratches his leg with his other heel, "He's not ugly, I guess."
Mina waves her arms around in Bakugo's general direction, "See!!? Even the straight guy agrees!!"
"No one was disagreeing with you, Mina." Sero snickers.
Bakugo grunts, then promptly slams the door in their faces.
"Well I guess that was more than he'd usually do at this time, we're lucky we didn't get exploded." Kirishima muses.
Kaminari nods, shuddering at the thought.
"Welp! That answers our question!" Although it really didn't, no one was about to argue with Mina, "Anyway I'm going to bed."
"Say hi to your vibe for me!" Sero whispers after her.
She waves as she marches away, humming to herself.
-
Shouto stares at the street below.
He wonders if he'd die falling from a height like this. He hopes he doesn't hit anyone.
Slowly, he removes his expensive sneakers, dropping them on the modelling agency's roof beside him. It's breezy tonight, and Shouto, freshly sixteen, has nothing to live for anymore. So he won't.
Stepping carefully over the guardrail, not sure why since he's about to jump. Maybe part of him is still afraid.
Whatever he can get over it.
His thin frame wobbles in the wind, and he breathes deeply, too focused on relaxing to notice the roof door opening, and hurried steps coming up behind him.
A warm hand grabs him, almost startling him off the side of the building.
The interruption heaves heavy breaths in his ear as they both topple down onto the concrete floor.
"What the fuck were you thinking?!" Oh, it's Bakugo.
The only child of his manager, Mitsuki Bakugo, who happens to be a nosy little shit who can't stay out of other people's business.
"Get OFF" Shouto shoves him, frantically scrambling toward the railing again. He needs this.
"NO! Todoroki get the fuck back-"
"It's SHOUTO." blood spurts onto his gray sweater and he realizes with muted horror that he just elbowed his employer's son in the nose.
"Fuck I'm so sorry, are you okay?" He bends down, removing his trashed pullover, and holds it to his friend's nose.
Bakugo snorts, "Sorry- Shouto I mean." He winces when Shouto presses harder into his face, "I'll forgive you if you don't jump."
Shouto sighs, "You know why I was going to."
Bakugo visibly calms at the use of past tense, the outburst must have snapped him out of it.
"Your mom, right?" Shouto tenses.
"Yeah I- he barred me from ever seeing her again and I- I don't know what to do." He shudders and pulls his pills from his pants pocket.
He wonders what his mom would say if she found out her baby was addicted to drugs.
Bakugou frowns but lets his friend take the pill, not sure what to say.
"Fucking piece of shit. Is that even legal?"
"Legally the number two hero can do whatever the fuck he wants. We live in a flawed world, Bakugo.
"I- Shouto."
"Hmm?" Shouto collapses onto the ground, crunching the pill and sighing as he feels the effects start to take almost immediately.
"I care- I care about you, okay? So please let me help you. Let me get you help."
A tear slips down to Shouto's ear without his permission, he wipes it away as quickly as it came.
"I don't know, Bakugo. You haven't exactly seemed to like me in the past. Even though I like to think we're friends I know you don't feel the same." He frowns, admiring the shine of wetness on his palm in the moonlight.
Bakugo grumbles, "Don't fuckin' tell me what I do and don't feel. I really fuckin' care about you even though I'm an ass about it, okay? I'm not good with emotions so don't expect much from me. But I do want you to be happy and I don't think the uh- the pills are helping."
The blond holds out a hand and reluctantly Shouto slaps the container into it.
"Fine," he mumbles, "you're uh- not as bad as I thought."
Bakugo snorts, "You're just as bad as I thought, but I like you anyway."
Against his will, Shouto finds himself blushing, thankful that it's mostly hidden in the dark.
"C'mon," Bakugo gestures to his own chest, "I know you could use one."
Shouto whimpers as he curls himself into the blond's strong frame. He's built a lot of muscle since starting at UA this year.
A strong hand rubs along his back and Shouto finds he can't hold back his tears any longer as the shock starts to set in.
Fuck he almost just killed himself.
"Thanks, Bakugo."
"I almost just watched you die, you can call me Katsuki."
"Thanks, Katsuki."
"No problem, Shouto."
-
The Bakusquad once again finds themselves playing a game on the common room floor, this time Sorry, much to Sero's chagrin.
"Sorry!" Kirishima grins cheekily as he kicks Sero's piece back to his home base.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuck you guys-" He groans, flopping back onto the loveseat behind him, only to get an eyeful of Bakugo Katsuki's ass, "Oh hey Bakugou!"
"Wh- OI TAPE FACE WATCH WHERE THE HELL YOU'RE LOOKING-"
Sero snickers, patting Bakugou on the hip, "Sorry dude, it was literally right there."
Small explosions popped from Bakugo's hands as he growled down at Sero.
"Aw come on blasty he's just playing and WHERE are you going dressed like that???!!!"
Bakugo blushes and tugs his light blue blazer down farther.
"I have a date." He mutters, tugging his sleeves.
“Sorry,” Kaminari laughs, “I think I misheard you. Sounded like you said ‘I have a date.’”
Bakugo rolls his eyes, “Because I do, dipshit.” He sighs, checking his -expensive-looking- watch, “Just watch the independent film awards when they’re on. I think it’s like four hours from now that it starts.”
“Whyyyy would you have anything to do with that?” Kirishima groans, very lost.
“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugo grunts, digging his phone out of his pocket when it vibrates and checking something before humming and striding towards the front door.
He looks unusually elegant, hair slicked back probably as well as Bakugo’s hair can be, shirt tucked in, a few rings on his fingers, barely visible and yet beautifully drawn eyeliner. He’s… pretty.
The three remaining members of the Bakusquad, as well as the rest of the common room, sit there in awe as he shoves a permission slip in Iida’s blubbering face.
“I- Wh- Bakugo is this from Aizawa? You cannot just leave!!”
“Fuck off glasses, I have his fuckin’ blessing or whatever.”
“Bakugo!”
The blond shoots a middle finger off behind him and slams the door shut, leaving a stunned common room in his wake.
“Uh, well, that happened.” Jirou drones blandly from her place on the couch with Momo.
“Awards show watch party, anyone?!” Uraraka grins, standing, “I’ll get the mochi!!”
“I’ll make tea,” Momo stands as well, dusting off her perfectly clean jeans. Jirou groans at the loss of her girlfriend’s warmth and flops over on the couch.
“This is stupid, he probably got invited by some pro hero and he’s just going to yell at the paparazzi if he’s even gonna be there.” She pouts.
“Well,” Sero grins, “anyone wanna play Monopoly while we wait?”
Kaminari throws the Sorry board at his head.
-
“Alright, is everyone ready!!? The red carpet is about to start!!” Hagakure squeals, even though the entirety of class 3-A (minus Bakugo) is there.
“So… what exactly are we watching this for?” Shinsou scratches the back of his neck.
“Bakugo’s going to be in it apparently, the study group earlier saw him in the common room wearing a suit.” Ojiro answers.
“Not just a suit!!” Mina holds her hands out as if to deliver groundbreaking news, “A fancy suit.”
“Aren’t all suits fancy?”
“Shut up.”
“OOH LOOK there’s Arai Itō and Chiba Yoshida!! Aww, they’re so cute!” Uraraka swoons, clasping her hands together.
“I wonder when Kacchan is gonna come out, these things can take a while.”
“I honestly don’t even care, I heard Todoroki Shouto is nominated for an award this year!! Do you remember that really sad short film he was in about having an overdose? Gosh, I hope he wins.” Hagakure’s hair bow vibrates excitedly.
“THERE HE IS THERE HE IS!!!!!” She points at the bottom of the screen where a man in a pale blue dress has stepped out of a limo and onto the carpet, a heeled foot gracefully raising him to his full 6’2”.
“Holy shit he’s gorgeous.” Sero breathes, the reporters on screen basically saying the same thing.
Shouto reaches behind him and holds out a hand for the second person stepping out of the limo, broad shoulders, a shorter stature than Shouto especially with the heels, spiky blond hair, piercing red eyes-
…
“HOLY SHIT IS THAT BAKUGOU??”
The aerial camera pans down toward the blond, showing off his suit- which matches Shouto’s dress perfectly- and his, what appears to be professionally done hair.
“Holy shit does he have an undercut now!!?? We just saw him a few hours ago!” Mina screeches.
Momo shrugs, “They do that sort of thing for celebrities.” She sips her tea, unphased.
“Okay okay, we’re all ignoring the most important part. Kacchan is Todoroki’s date.” Izuku frantically waves his arms around.
“I didn’t know they knew each other,” Tokoyami muses.
“What the fuck is happening?” Sero asks no one in particular.
“Wait everyone SHUT UP they’re announcing awards!!!! Todoroki might win one! We can ask Bakugo about this when he gets back. Surely there’s an interesting story.” Uraraka chimes in, handing out mochi and popcorn.
The tv’s voice is muffled under the muttering of several class 3-A members, but Mina turns it up as the male announcer reads the winners of the award Todoroki is nominated for.
“AAAAAAAAND THE WINNER FOR BEST ACTOR IN A DRAMA SHORT ISSSSSSSSS…
TODOROKI SHOUTO!!! For his work in The End of Me and the incredible performance that shocked-”
Cheers ring through the dorms, popcorn goes flying, and Mina frantically shushes everyone as Shouto makes his way gracefully onto the stage. He accepts the award from the previous winner, bowing elegantly and stepping up to the mic.
“Hello everyone,” He begins, shooting a shy smile directly into the camera. It has always perplexed his fans how nervous he can be in real life compared to in his photoshoots. “This is a really important award to me, not only am I incredibly grateful to the panel for gracing this title upon me, but as of yesterday,” He smiles at the ground, taking a deep breath, “I’m two years clean.”
Shocked gasps ricochet through the award hall as well as through the crowd gathered around the tv.
“He did drugs, kero?” Tsu whispers.
“Mon dieux,” Aoyama shakes his head, pressing a hand to his chest, “how brave.”
Shouto clears his breath and continues, “In fact, that wasn’t the worst of it at the time, and I’m incredibly grateful to all who have supported me through my career. You keep me sane, and you keep me going. But especially, I’d like to thank my sister, brother, and my wonderful boyfriend-”
He holds an arm out to someone in the audience, and the camera pans to none other than Bakugou Katsuki, “who quite literally saved my life, and helped me drive myself back on track. I love you Katsuki, and you continue to improve my life every second that you’re in it.”
Most of 3-A are in tears at this point, and as Bakugo half-heartedly scowls into the camera, they can tell his eyes are shining too.
Shouto glances back at the camera as if directing his words to someone in particular.
“Thank you.”
And then he’s walking back down to his seat as the audience provides him with a standing ovation.
“THEY’RE DATING,” Mina sobs, shaking Kirishima’s shoulders as he sits, staring slack-jawed at the television.
“Yeah, yeah they are.”
-
Katsuki does NOT wipe tears from his eyes as he helps Shouto sit back down in his seat, but his boyfriend definitely does. His mascara, thankfully waterproof, still holds strong.
Shouto shoots him a watery smile, rubbing his arm as he pulls the blond into a hug.
“Happy two years, Katsuki.”
#not me having no clue how to title shit#llyn writes shit#fanfic#todobaku#todoroki shouto#bakugo katsuki#tw suicude#tw drugs#model!todoroki#model au#based on canon#bakusquad#kaminari denki#bnha fluff#bnha#mha#fluff#kirishima eijirou#sero hanta#mina ashido#iida tenya#endeavor#ochako uraraka#momo yaoyorozu#jirou kyouka#kirimina#momojirou#my fic#crossposted on ao3
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Die Like the Butterfly Shoot With Their Guns.
| {Jasonette July 2021, Week 2, Day 7: Guns} |
Chapter 1 of Sheltered by Darkness not yet Moths to the Flame.
| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [Spotify Playlist Link] | | [Chapter 2] |
———
| Sometimes a family can be a gang comprised of eleven vigilantes, and their AI robot, fighting against the father of one of their own. |
| Or alternatively: after falling through the cracks, they do what they must to survive. And if that means committing crimes in order to bring down the Big Butterfly and all the other corrupt businesses in the city, then so be it. |
———
| Tonight's the night. Half of them will strike one of the Big Butterfly's warehouses that just so happens to contain some fancy new gun tech. Besides, it'll be in better hands with them than the Big Butterfly or his associates. Now all that matters, is that nothing goes wrong! |
| Word Count: 3,322. |
| Warnings/Tags: Cyberpunk/Criminal/Gang Au, Explicit Language/Swearing, Hacking, Breaking and Entering, Theft, Mentions of Bombs and Guns, Mentions of corrupt/shady businesses, Fluff, Gang/Team as family/family dynamics, Found Family. |
———
| A/N: It is Cyberpunk Au time! This is a twoshot, so have a looksy to see if you can find all the snippets of foreshadowing I've set! Also this is mostly Action/Fluff but beware of the warnings regardless. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! |
| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |
———
Rain patters against the concrete, sound mixing with the low hum and high buzz of electricity. The ground is slick with murky puddles that never seem to clean the pavement. Still just as filthy as before, permanently dyed with dried bloodstains, mud stains, electric scorch marks, and far worse. The air is heavy with the smell of cigarette smoke, ozone, and that ever underlying decay that clings to the city.
It's dark—dead of night—but the streets are awash with flickering neon lights. There are a few others haunting the street though most of them are sticking to the areas of light, avoiding the shadows.
Which is where Marinette, also known as the ruthless gang leader Fantôminou, is lurking.
Jason—Red Hood, her co-leader—snarls as he drops down onto the shadowed fire escape beside her. “We've got a rat. Someone's tipped off the big Butterfly and security has been increased around the perimeter. Most likely interior security increased too.”
Fantôminou flexes her glowing clawed gauntlets, “I suppose we should check in with our local pied piper, before we strike, hmm?”
There's a bzzt in her earpiece as the channel is hijacked by the familiar voice of their gang's hacker, Max aka Raijack. “I wouldn't worry about that if I were you, our pied piper has already been contacted. Whoever they were, they didn't reveal which location we were targeting, so it's just a general security increase.”
She hums. “Raijack, link us up with the rest of the strike force.”
“Got it, 'Minou.” He responds, and not a split second later, the earpiece makes another bzzt and there's the faint ping of the rest of the channel being alerted at someone joining.
“Look, I think you could totally pull off the—oh, who just joined the channel?” Adrien, Cheval Mallet, asks in surprise.
“Just me and our anthill tiger.” Red Hood announces, snorting at the glare Fantôminou sends him.
Silence echoes across the line before a scrabble of hushed but excited voices causes a ruckus.
Fantôminou sighs, “I know we're all excited to hit the big Butterfly hard by stealing some of their new fancy gun tech. But let's leave the yelling for when we inevitably set off the alarms!”
“Hey!” Raijack protests. “I'll have you know I have produced a new virus that has a ninety-eight per cent chance of not setting off any alarms!”
Red Hood rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but you've still not worked out how to get your viruses to deactivate the bombs in the crates yet, huh?”
“I will one day, until then it's your job to stop the bombs from triggering the rest of the alarms!” Raijack counters with a huff.
Fantôminou sighs again, this time with an added sprinkling of are-you-kidding-me. “Red Hood, Raijack. I can and will kick your asses if you do not shut up so we can discuss final prep before we begin the pesticide protocol.”
Bumping shoulders with her, Red Hood snorts again. “I've got nothing against being beat up by someone as pretty and buff as you Minou, you know that!”
“Oh, I think we can all agree to wanting to get crushed by Minou's guns.” Cheval Mallet pipes up once more.
Fantôminou sighs very wearily. “Nevermind, are you all ready?”
Red Hood salutes at her, and despite his mouth being covered, it's easily telling that he's grinning cockily underneath. “I'm ready. My guns are ready, and I've got the bomb defusal kit at the ready.”
“I may be holding my horses but I'm saddled to giddy-up on the go!” Cheval Mallet cheerfully announces.
“This has to be one of your worst attempts at horse puns yet.” Raijack comments, “otherwise, I'm in position and ready to hack on your call, Minou.”
Red Hood exchanges a glance with Fantôminou as silence falls over the earpiece channel. “Hold up, where's Arsenal? Shouldn't he have checked in by now?”
Taking his hand gently, Fantôminou gives it a reassuring squeeze.
“He already did but because you two had your issues getting into position and avoiding the unexpected police patrol, Arsenal had to deal with another issue that popped up which would've threatened our plan,” Raijack informs, sounding nonplussed.
“Well, you don't sound concerned.” Fantôminou points out the obvious. “Has he got back up?”
There's the faint tapping of a keyboard through the earpiece channel before Raijack responds, “Chèvrapide is on her way to back him up, don't worry.”
“Then that's everyone accounted for. Let's rock and roll.” Red Hood orders, dropping from the fire escape and landing in the rain-slick alleyway with ease, conveniently right beside the hoverbike they had stashed here.
Fantôminou hops down after him, except she manages to flip and expertly land in the driver's seat. “I'm driving Jay, you're the one with the guns after all,” she all but states, putting one gauntleted hand up and flexing just to hammer in the point, “I'm close range only right now and you know it.”
Red Hood throws his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey! I'd never complain about getting to watch you drive this beauty of a hoverbike.”
Fantôminou snorts. “Just get on, pretty bird!”
“Well, if you say so, pretty kitty!” Red Hood teases back, vaulting onto the back of the bike behind her. He wraps an arm around her waist and rests the other hand on his sheathed-for-now gun.
She revs the engine of the hoverbike and steers out of the alleyway with practised ease. There's no directions on the hoverbike's holoscreen, but it's not like they need any—the directions to where they need to be outside the warehouse have already been memorised by each and every one of them.”
Down the left street, take the right at the T junction, pass under the flyover street, then take a further two lefts and then straight on until the block of office buildings forming a protective extra layer between the warehouse electric razor wire tipped fencing and the road. Easy.
“All networks in the office buildings have temporarily shut down. As far as the tech will be concerned, it'll look like the networks just decided to not work today.” Raijack announces through the earpiece channel, voice coming through slightly more robotic than usual.
“So no security cams?” Fantôminou checks cautiously, circling like a hawk around the small stretch of street between her and the office building she and Jason will be entering through. The rain has slowed to a drizzle but that doesn't make the circling in it any less mildly uncomfortable, at least inside it'll be dry.
There's the familiar clack of keys once more. “Not quite, they're a little harder to crack than entering in through the backdoor via someone's unprotected webcam in the office. Thank you, Shodan.” Raijack pauses, keys continuing to clack in the background. “Unfortunately, the Big Butterfly's got tech security smart enough to keep the security system on a closed network so I can't hop from webcam to computer to network to cams. However, they didn't account for Markov, suckers!”
Red Hood snorts. “Isn't Markov a little obvious for this kinda mission?”
“Oh, did I forget to tell you?” Raijack says, in a voice that very clearly conveys he didn't forget so much as purposefully neglected to mention, “I recently upgraded Markov, outfitting him with the currently most highly advanced cloaking system. Thanks to some help from Fantôminou's knowledge of cloaking and camouflage fashion.”
Red Hood leans his head onto Fantôminou's shoulder. “I'm hurt, you knew and didn't tell me? I want cloaking guns! Think of how much cooler I'd look with them!”
Fantôminou merely hums in an unamused response. “Raijack wanted it to be a surprise.”
He huffs. “I see who your favourite person in our gang is then!”
“You're right! It's me!” Cheval Mallet cheers, jumping into the conversation.
“Fucking 'ell!” Red Hood curses under his breath. “I thought you were gonna mute whilst getting in position.”
Cheval Mallet's laugh cuts in and out across the earpiece channel. “And when did I hay that!”
“Hacker voice, I'm in!” Raijack interrupts. “Looks like the security system was perfectly untouched by whatever minor error caused the main networks to crash, how lucky. Which is to say, looping is in process, and we now have free entry.”
“Got us a place to park yet, though?” Red Hood asks.
Raijack doesn't immediately respond, but the sound of the garage door connected to the office building opening, is answer enough. “I might.”
Fantôminou snorts. “Thanks, Raijack. Hood and I need to split here right, just until we get past the fencing right?”
“That's right.” Raijack responds, “good luck, and Markov and I will see you all on the other side.”
“Break a leg, or three!” Red Hood calls over the earpiece. “Preferably some else's though!”
Fantôminou pulls the hoverbike into the garage, keeping her gaze ahead. “If I could elbow you without fucking up my parking, I would.”
Red Hood cackles quietly in response, trying to at least keep to the stealth part of the mission plan.
In the blink of an eye, the hoverbike is securely parked. Perfectly hidden in plain sight but easily accessible for a quick and clean getaway should nothing go wrong. And well, if something were to go wrong, there's not going to be any hoverbike left for evidence. Though, that's not to say a small part of Fantôminou's brain doesn't anxiously hate how they're practically sitting on top of bombs ready to blow up at the slightest hint of things going wrong. However, they've been through enough strikes like this for the concern to be mostly easily ignored.
———
With the hoverbike parked, Fantôminou and Red Hood part ways.
Fantôminou heads up through the internal stairwell connected to the garage, whilst Red Hood takes one of the external doors leading to the office building next door.
The stairwell is like any other maintenance stairwell. Grey concrete walls, metal railings and steps. Even Fantôminou's light footsteps clang loudly against the ridged metal stairs. It's cold, just as cold as the garage was and barely warmer than it is outside in the rain. The air is stuffy but at least the respirator hidden beneath the bandana wrapped around her mouth makes it bearable to breathe. Other than the aforementioned clanging of steps, and her breathing, Fantôminou is alone with the ominous silence of a liminal space.
The stairs stretch on upwards for what seems far longer than it should, but eventually, Fantôminou reaches the final steps to the roof entrance door.
The door is unlocked, and so Fantôminou opens it as quietly as possible. She walks out into the rain once more and scrunches up her nose. A quick glance of the roof yields no immediate signs of danger or anything of note, so she continues to the edge of the roof.
Fantôminou rests one foot on the lip of the roof and flexes her gauntlets, lights switching off for stealth. Carefully, she turns around and crouches on the lip, gauntlets gripping the edge and toes of her boots braced against the wall. Bit by bit she descends, gauntlets making it more than easy to stay attached to the wall.
Two-thirds of the way down, Fantôminou climbs onto a window sill. The fence is only a metre below, with a further four-metre drop. No security drones in sight, yet—but no alarms have been triggered yet either.
A shadow drops down the building and over the fence on the other side of the compound. Not a second later is the double buzz of the earpiece signalling that someone is in position.
Fantôminou smirks beneath her face coverings, not one to be so quickly outdone she leaps forwards in a dive—spinning midair as she begins to plummet. Clearing the razor wire fence with room to spare.
She hits the ground in another diving roll, and immediately uses the momentum to throw herself up and run towards the nearest warehouse building. As soon as she reaches the wall, she double-taps her earpiece to send the double buzz signal to others.
A moment later comes the third double buzz, soon followed by the fourth and final signal.
“Markov is covering our air support.” Raijack's voice clips across the earpiece channel, “Fantôminou, you and Red Hood are on opposite ends of the same warehouse. I've unlocked the doors for you. You know the drill.”
“Thank you, Raijack. Entering now.” Fantôminou responds, she slinks over to the warehouse doors and cautiously pries open the now unlocked door.
Fantôminou heads straight for the terminal, and knows Red Hood is doing the same. Slipping Raijack's new and improved virus into one of the terminal's ports. Seconds pass.
“Interface secured,” Raijack informs.
Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Red Hood prowling over to her. She nods to him and taps into the terminal with her gauntlet.
Red Hood readies his bomb defusal kit as she instructs the internal warehouse drones into delivering the goods to them.
The drone, blinking yellow—a sure sign of Raijack's virus in effect—hovers over and drops a large black cased crate before them.
As soon as the claws of the drone release the crate, Red Hood is immediately on it, pulling it open and weeding out the bomb.
They wait with bated breath. Red Hood tinkers away. The earpiece channel is silent as the team focuses.
He hisses through his teeth, and Fantôminou tenses—ready to grab him and run, in the worst case—but he only packs the kit back away and sighs in relief.
He taps the earpiece thrice—signalling success.
Raijack and Cheval Mallet don't respond, so Fantôminou and Red Hood stuff their haul into Fantôminou's Miraculous, for ease of transport, and begin making their way towards the warehouse the other two were hitting.
By the time they reach the nearest warehouse doors, the earpiece triple buzzes. Success, again.
They pause only to exchange a nod between the two before continuing to meet up with Cheval Mallet and Raijack—no rendezvous needed this time so far.
It takes forty seconds to cross halfway to the other warehouse, where they meet the other two along with Markov in the middle.
Cheval Mallet waves a hand and the five of them skulk over to a small shed off the side of another warehouse. He raises his horseshoe weapon and calls out, “Bon Voyage!”
The portal forms and Markov flies through first. The remaining four exchange glances then bolt forwards, racing to see who can get through first.
The blue light blinds them all for a second, despite how used to the power they are.
“Mission success!” Fantôminou cheers breathlessly once the blue fades, throwing her hands up in celebration.
“WOOH!” Cheval Mallet yells, jumping up and punching the air.
Red Hood snorts, “but more importantly I so won!”
Raijack hums, “let's see what Markov has to say about that.”
Markov makes a series of boops and beeps, yellow LEDs flickering. “Red Hood is correct, he won the portal race.”
“YES!” Red Hood crows.
“Oh come on!” Raijack grumbles.
Footsteps and clapping approaches. “Well done,” Félix praises, “but perhaps leave the celebration until after you've all gotten into jammies.”
Cheval Mallet giggles, “Flicks, I can't believe you can somehow still sound pretentious whilst saying something as childish sounding as "jammies"!”
Félix raises an eyebrow, “you say this every time I call pyjamas that. Now come on, I've ordered pizza and Roy, Alix, Luka, Artemis, Kori, and Bizarro are already waiting for you lot, in the lounge, so we can get the party started.” He turns on his heel and walks out of the utility-changing room.
Markov, as the only one not needing to change, shows the tongue-sticking-out emoji on his LED screen and zooms after Félix.
Jason, Marinette, Adrien, and Max all start changing out of their gear as quickly as possible.
“Oh no!” Adrien gasps, half undressed, suddenly remembering something. “We forgot to take the motorbikes back!”
Marinette groans, “I knew I was forgetting something!"
Facepalming, Jason sighs. “We were all too caught up in everything going well for once.”
Max snorts. “Oh don't worry! I anticipated this, all it took was a little hacking into our hoverbikes and now they're on autopilot to one of our empty storage bases.”
“Oh. Well, that's good then.” Adrien says, looking a little embarrassed.
“Yeah… anyway come on, we don't want to keep your cousin and the others waiting any longer! They'll eat all the pizza!” Marinette exclaims.
They all finish changing into loungewear and pyjamas just as music starts to play from the lounge and so frantically, they all dash towards it, trying to shove each other out of the way and laughing playfully as they do so.
They've won a battle, they've successfully gotten in and out with a good haul of gun tech. No alarms tripped, nothing went wrong. Hoverbikes undamaged and on the route home. For once, everything went smoothly. And that, is cause for an evening of celebration.
Leaving the worries of the rat for tomorrow.
———
In a dark observatory with a closed butterfly window, a folder is tossed across a desk.
Papillon glances down at the folder with indifference. He rests his elbows on the expensive polished wood and steeples his fingers. “You said you had acquired information that you believe will interest me?”
The man in a black suit sitting opposite Papillon, smiles patiently. “My informant went through quite the lengths to acquire this. Why not take a look inside.”
Papillon purses his lips, “this better not be a waste of my precious time, Lex.”
Lex Luthor raises an eyebrow in amusement. “I assure you, Gabriel, you will find what is inside most interesting.”
There's a moment's pause as Gabriel waits. Nothing happens. He nods and then opens the folder. He spreads the papers inside in arc across the desk. In the middle of the papers, is the photo of a smiling teenage girl with bright blue eyes, and blue-dyed hair. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” He reads out, lips curling into a contemplative frown.
“Poor little girl,” Lex croons mockingly, “missing—presumed dead—after her parents' bakery was destroyed in an Akuma attack. Her name should be familiar to you though, won your one-day derby hat competition at her school.”
Gabriel's fingers still mid-steeple, and he moves one hand up to his chin in thought. “Ah yes, I remember that designer. The one with the feather derby whose design was stolen and copied. That signature embroidery was impressive work.” He recounts.
Lex grins, “yes, however most distressingly, it would seem this up and coming star of a designer has lost her glow.”
“How so?” Gabriel responds, furrowing his brows.
“Well you see, my informant has found… evidence, that our poor little designer here fell through the cracks into the shadows after the loss of her parents and bakery. It's rather obvious that the larvae have taken her as their own, some of their masks and clothes fit perfectly with what we know of her unique incorporation of her signature, as well as stitch work.” Lex explains, waving a hand towards the rest of the photographs and documents spread from the folder.
Gabriel frowns and eyes a few of the other papers with interest. “I see, that is most unfortunate.”
“But.” Lex cuts in before Gabriel can say anything more. “I'm well aware you're plenty familiar with fixing larvae with damaged wings and frayed wires. As such, a strange little cold case brimming with potential for your program, would do quite nicely for your collection, wouldn't you say?” Lex insinuates, rising from his seat as he continues, “rescue the poor larvae, craft it a chrysalis, and nurture the Pupa into something radiant. Not unlike what you did with the Macrothylacia Rubi, and your replacement wife.” With that, Lex smiles smugly down at Gabriel and then strides out of the observatory, not giving Gabriel a chance to respond.
And leaving Papillon to the folder and his musings.
———
| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |
| Behind the Names: Fantôminou is a portmanteau of Fantôme (Ghost/Phantom) and Minou (Kitty). And she's called that because I thought the Black Footed cat fit her, and they're nicknamed Anthill Tigers. They also have the highest successful hunting rate! |
| Raijack is a portmanteau of Raiju (lightning dragon) and jack plug (the connect-y bit on headphones into a phone for example) but is also a play on the word Hijack. |
| Cheval Mallet is an evil horse spirit that offers rides to weary travellers and kidnaps them. Yes, there is a reason behind this. It's covered in Chap 2 |
| Chèvrapide is a portmanteau of Chèvre (Goat) and Rapide (Fast). |
| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I’ll be more than happy to answer! |
| @jasonette-july-event |
#Maribat#MLB x DC#DC x MLB#Jasonette#Jasonette July#Jasonette July 2021#JasonetteJuly2021#JasMari#MariJay#Marinette x Jason#Jason x Marinette#Jasonette July Week 2#Jasonette July Day 7#Jasonette July Guns#Sheltered by Darkness not yet Moths to the Flame#SbDnyMttF#Die Like the Butterfly Shoot With Their Guns#DLtBSWTG#Sham's Posts#Sham's Writing#Sham's Fics
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Fast and Furious Timeline Explained (Including F9)
https://ift.tt/35RIciY
When the Fast and Furious franchise started in 2001, it’s doubtful anyone working on it expected they were launching a mythology so trenchant it’d still be going 20 years later in a film with the words “Fast Saga” in its full title. But here we are on the opening weekend of F9: The Fast Saga, and the series is so beloved it’s expected to resurrect the theatergoing box office once more. And you know? Thank goodness, mi familia.
Sometimes there’s nothing nicer than spending your summer situated around a grill with a couple of cold ones, reminiscing about old times with loved ones. And if we ever spent a full day at one of the Toretto clan’s barbecues, we’d likely hear a lot more exciting tales that begin with “remember that time…” After all, what other family can talk about that time they stole a literal vault out of Rio de Janeiro? Or that other time Luke Hobbs caught a torpedo with his bare hands; and Trej and Roman over there, they launched a Pontiac into space! With them in it!
There have been some crazy times with this group. Hence we’ve created this handy-dandy timeline for those who are struggling to remember when and where things went down…
* Editor’s Note: After Fast & Furious (2009), the franchise gets intentionally vague and fuzzy about the time and years between events, so exact dates are left somewhat up to interpretation.
1989
Dominic and Jakob Toretto work as mechanics on their father Jack Toretto’s professional stock car. During the last race of the season, Jack asks Jakob to help him throw the race, but Jack is killed in the sabotaged accident. Dom thinks Jakob murdered their father. (F9)
Dom beats another pro driver named Kenny Linder near to death with a wrench, as he is at least partially responsible for the carnage of Jack’s crash. Dom is sentenced to prison for five years. (The Fast and the Furious, F9)
1991
Dominic Toretto is released from prison after two years. The first thing he does when he gets out is challenge Jakob to a street race. If Dom wins, Jakob will leave Los Angeles and never return. He’ll also shut off all communication with Dom and their sister Mia. Jakob loses. (F9)
2001
Dominic Toretto alongside his ride or die lover, Letty Ortiz, and childhood friend Vince form an illegal crew of big rig hijackers, stealing DVD players and digital cameras. (The Fast and the Furious)
Brian O’Conner volunteers to go undercover for the LAPD and FBI, infiltrating Toretto’s crew and the world of illegal street racing. But he soon comes to idolize Dom and fall in love with his little sister, Mia Toretto. Brian ultimately helps Dom escape the Feds. (The Fast and the Furious)
2002
Gifted Asian American student Han Lue graduates rom petty crimes to participating with his cousin and two other friends in a cheat sheet racket at their prestigious high school. The group makes a small fortune, but after things get out of hand, they wind up murdering another student. Han’s cousin who helped in the deed kills himself, and a mourning Han drifts further into the underworld. (Better Luck Tomorrow)
2003
Years after fleeing California and prosecution, Brian winds up in Miami where he’s still a hotshot street racer who hangs with his mechanic buddy Tej Parker. After their operation is pinched, Brian is given an offer by the FBI to go undercover again and root out a violent Argentinian drug cartel operating out of Miami. He does so alongside childhood pal Roman Pearce. (2 Fast 2 Furious)
2005
Dom and Letty are secretly married while living as fugitives outside the U.S. (Furious 7)
2006
Dom Toretto now runs a hijacking crew out of the Dominican Republic, alongside Letty and new bestie Han Lue. After a near death experience, they disband. Han says he’ll go to Tokyo, and Dom leaves Letty behind. (Fast & Furious)
Letty goes to Brian O’Conner, who is now an FBI agent. She attempts to clear her and Dom’s records by infiltrating a Mexican drug cartel run by Arturo Braga. Unfortunately, Arturo figures out Letty’s deception and runs her off the road, blowing up her car, which leads everyone to think she died (including Brian and Dom). In truth, she was saved from the wreckage by Gisele Yashar, a secret CIA operative who also infiltrated the Braga cartel. She takes Letty to the hospital. (Fast & Furious, Fast & Furious 6, Furious 7)
At the hospital, Letty awakens with amnesia and is recruited into a crew run by Owen Shaw, who has power over the Braga organization. (Fast & Furious 6)
2007
Dom returns to Los Angeles with Mia to avenge Letty’s apparent murder. He buries the hatchet with Brian as they destroy Braga’s cartel. Dom is supposed to have his name cleared in the process, but the FBI betrays him and he’s sentenced to 25 years in prison. Brian and Mia hijack Dom’s prison transport, freeing him and becoming fugitives themselves. (Fast & Furious)
After freeing Dom, the trio flee to Rio Janeiro where they hope to stay incognito. Old friend Vince recruits them for a job to steal three cars, but mid-mission the threesome learn they’re stealing from the DEA, including a vehicle with a computer chip that details the financials of a Brazilian crime lord. (Fast Five)
Dom and Brian recruit an international crew to steal $100 million from the crime lord, including Roman Pearce, Trej Parker, Han Jue, and Gisele Yashar. The Family is reborn. Brian and Mia also learn they’re pregnant. The crew ultimately steals the money and even gains assistance from ruthless DSS agent Luke Hobbs after the super-cop’s team is murdered by local gangsters. (Fast Five)
Hobbs discovers Letty is still alive. (Fast Five)
2008
Brian and Mia give birth to their son Jack. (Fast & Furious 6)
Hobbs tracks Dom down, discovering Dom is now in a serious relationship with Hobbs’ former Brazilian liaison, Elena Neves. Dom is told Letty is alive and working for British criminal mastermind Owen Shaw. (Fast & Furious 6)
Dom and the Family are able to rescue Letty from her manipulative boss, even though she still doesn’t remember who she is. Dom leaves Elena for her. In the fight to save Letty, Gisele is killed and Owen is left in a coma. Han, who was dating Gisele, decides to go to Tokyo. (Fast & Furious 6)
Elena discovers she is pregnant with Dom’s child and decides not to tell him. (The Fate of the Furious)
2009
Elena gives birth to Dom’s son, whom Don is unaware of. (The Fate of the Furious)
Han is recruited by CIA mystery man Mr. Nobody, who reveals Gisele was a CIA agent the whole time. Han picks up where Gisele left off, ultimately saving an orphaned Japanese child named Elle, whose parents encrypted her blood with the key codes to a doomsday device called Ares. (F9)
Han continues illegal street racing in Tokyo where “drifting” is what the cool kids do. He even takes American teenager Sean Boswell under his wing after Sean is banished by his mother to live in Japan with his Army father. Han teaches Sean to drift. (The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift)
Deckard Shaw, Owen Shaw’s older brother, breaks into Owen’s hospital and, after killing his doctors, promises to avenge little bro by getting the Toretto family! He begins by nearly killing Luke Hobbs and Elena, who is now working full-time with the big guy. (Furious 7)
Dom takes Letty to Race Wars in order to jog her memory. She gets fragments back but decides the old Letty is dead and drives off, leaving Dom. (Furious 7)
Dom returns to his family home in Los Angeles where Mia tells him that she and Brian are expecting their second child and she’s afraid to tell him because he’s addicted to an adventurous lifestyle. Dom agrees to talk to Brian. Only then does he receive an ominous phone call about… (Furious 7)
… How during Sean and Han’s exploits ,they offend the Yakuza. This leads to Sean and Han being chased by gangsters. In the chaos, Han is T-boned and seemingly killed in an explosion. The other driver is Deckard Shaw, who is here to kill Han in order to send Dom Toretto a message: he’s coming for the Family. He calls Dom to taunt him as he thinks Han burns. But in a twist on a twist, it turns out Han and Mr. Nobody knew Deckard was coming and used this as an opportunity to fake Han’s death so as to better protect Elle! (The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, Fast & Furious 6, Furious 7, F9)
After receiving Deckard’s phone call, a letter bomb goes off in the Toretto family home, nearly killing Dom and Mia. Dom and the Family are recruited by CIA weirdo Mr. Nobody into stopping Deckard from obtaining an all-powerful MacGuffin. Nobody gives them unlimited resources and also brings Letty back into the fold. She inexplicably gets her memories back after remembering she and Dom were secretly married. (Furious 7)
Sean ultimately becomes the Drift King of Tokyo (The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift)
The heroes save hacker Ramsey from Deckard and she joins the Family. Together they stop Deckard by causing a parking garage to literally fall on his head. Shaw goes to prison, and Dom and Letty get back together. Brian agrees to retire for the sake of his two kids but not before one last angelic ride along next to Dom. (Furious 7)
Read more
Movies
Hollywood Execs Are Crediting Fast and Furious with Growing Embrace of Diversity
By David Crow
Movies
F9 Ending Is a Game Changer
By David Crow
2010
Dom and Letty’s overdue Cuban honeymoon is interrupted when Dom is blackmailed into working for evil genius terrorist Cipher. It turns out Cipher has kidnapped Elena and their still-an-infant son to coerce Dom into being her wheelman. (The Fate of the Furious)
Luke Hobbs approaches the family to do an illegal mission, but in the getaway Dom betrays them at Cipher’s behest, leading Luke Hobbs to be disgraced and sent to prison. He gets a cell right next to Deckard Shaw, and the two develop a frenemy banter. They’re freed by Mr. Nobody to help the CIA track Cipher. (The Fate of the Furious)
Cipher kills Elena after she lets Dom name their son (many months after his birth) Brian. During a mission to steal a nuclear submarine, Dom is freed from Cipher’s control after Deckard hijacks Cipher’s plane and saves wee little baby Brian. Dom helps the Family stop the nuclear sub. Deckard Shaw becomes part of the Family while Dom and Letty adopt baby Brian. (The Fate of the Furious)
2012
The CIA pressures Hobbs and Shaw to join forces after MI6 agent Hattie Shaw, Deckard and Owen’s little sister, is targeted by cyber-enhanced super soldiers who want the superpower-giving virus she’s hidden in her bloodstream. Hobbs and Shaw reluctantly work together, save Hattie, and ultimately travel to Hobbs’ family home in Samoa. (Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs And Shaw)
2013
Sean and buddies Twinkie and Earl Hu begin experimenting with a Pontiac Fiero that they’ll attach a rocket to with the aim of one day shooting it into space. (F9)
2014
Dom is living peacefully with Letty and his three or four-year-old son when he’s told Cipher has resurfaced and shot down Mr. Nobody’s plane. He reluctantly joins the Family to try and rescue Mr. Nobody, and they discover Dom’s long lost little brother, Jakob (now big and swole), is involved after going rogue as a secret agent. (F9)
Letty and Mia go to Tokyo to find out what Jakob is after and discover Han is alive, reuniting him, plus his ward Elle, with the Family. (F9)
Trej and Roman work with Sean and friends on the Fiero, eventually “driving” it into space to stop Jakob (and later Cipher) from essentially taking over the world. Jakob helps Dom stop Cipher and is pseudo-redeemed. (F9)
Back from the dead, Han decides to confront Deckard Shaw… (F9)
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from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3jimDjm
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I don’t know if you’ve done this before, but billy babysitting max and el while they’re having a sleepover. They rope him into getting his hair braided, nails painted, gossiping about Steve etc. I just think it would be light and fun 😊 sorry if it doesn’t make any sense lol.
There was a soft knock on his door.
He just barely heard it over his music, was in between tracks at the moment. He paused the tape, listening intently for another knock.
The door flew open.
Max was standing there, her little friend El standing behind her, looking curiously at Billy.
“El wants to learn hos to French braid, but I don’t know how, so you have to teach her.”
He took his time taking off his headphones.
“And why must I teach her?”
“Because you’re in charge of us.” He glared at her. She glared right back. He rolled his eyes.
“Fine.”
He followed them into the living room.
They were watching some Molly Ringwald flick.
He plopped down on the couch, making Max sit against his shins, El next to him.
He started with a regular braid, teaching her the three sections, giving her a base for the French braid.
Ell leaned against his side, watching closely.
“So for the French braid, it’s really the same thing. Start the three sections higher up, and add hair as you go.”
On the t.v. some guy was waiting for Molly Ringwald outside the church.
“He’s hot.”
“Aren’t you with Steve?”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t have working eyes.”
“How is Steve.” Billy rolled his eyes at Max.
“You saw him yesterday. Why you askin’ me?”
“Because he’s your boyfriend.” She said it all drawn out and terrible. Billy yanked on her hair. “Ow, asshole!”
“Leave me be.”
“Is he your Jake Ryan?”
“I have no idea who that is.”
“The guy in the movie.” She sounded so exasperated.
“Oh. Nah, Steve is more Molly Ringwald. In most situations.”
“Billy, that’s disgusting.”
“I don’t understand.” El stopped leaning on him, sitting to look him in the eye.
“That’s not a conversation I wanna have with you, I’m gonna be honest.”
“I’ll ask Hopper.” She settled back against him.
“Please ask Hopper about gay sex, El I’m begging you.” He could picture how red Hop’s face would get, how he’d stutter through an excuse not to answer, and then corner Billy and Steve later to quit teachin’ El new things.
It’s not the first time its happened.
He finished off the braid.
“Can I practice on you?” He could never say no to El.
So he traded places with Max, let the girls fumble around with his hair.
“Okay, but back to my original question. How are you and Steve?”
“Fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Good.” He could feel Max rolling her eyes behind him.
“Billy, come on. El and I both dumped our boyfriends this week.”
“Man, cut that shit out. If you actually wanna keep someone around, you gotta work on your issues, not just dump ‘em. If Steve did that shit to me every time I fucked up, he’d be dumpin’ me every twenty minutes.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t fuck up so much?” He reached behind him to slap blindly at Max.
“No, I mean Steve tells me what I did that hurt him, or made him feel bad and I work on it. If he just dumped me, I’d never learn how to not do shit that hurts him. I do the same thing for him.”
“Doesn’t that get tiring, just like, having a laundry list of things that pissed you off?”
“Jesus, how much shit does Sinclair do that pisses you off like that?”
“I don’t know, a lot.”
“Do you even like this kid?”
“He’s fun.”
“Yeah, but do you even like him?”
“I don’t know, Billy!” She pulled his hair. He snarled at her.
“It’s not a hard question, either you like him, or you don’t.”
“Maybe I don’t.”
“Look, it’s fine. You’re like, fourteen, you don’t have to be in a relationship with a guy. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, but it’s fun.”
“Okay, but dating is way more fun when you actually like the person. Like, you just enjoy the time you spend together, even when you’re doing fucking nothing.”
“That’s love. Hopper said.” Billy stiffened. He hadn’t ever used that word, was fucking scared. “He said it’s when someone makes you happy just because they want you to be happy and that you are happy around just because they are around.”
“Yeah. Probably. I wouldn’t know.”
“Oh my God, Billy, you are so clearly in love with Steve it’s disgusting.”
“No I’m not.” He recoiled at his own voice, how much he sounded like a fucking child.
“Yes you are. Dummy.”
“Shitbird.”
“Asshole.”
“Hellbeast.”
“Dumbfuck.”
“Weenie.” Max laughed at that one.
“But seriously. You’re so in love with him, you should tell him tonight.”
“Why tonight?”
“I told him my mom and Neil were gone and said he should come over.” Billy whipped around.
“What the fuck, Max?” He stood up quickly, racing to his room. “Why didn’t you fuckin’ warn me?” He tried to fix his hair, getting frustrated with how it wasn’t cooperating, decided to just put it in a bun.
He thought about taking off his shirt, but didn’t wanna be so obvious about it.
He came wandering back out a minute later.
“Did you seriously put cologne on?” Billy ignored Max, sitting on the armchair adjacent to the couch.
Max switched the movie, putting on another Molly Ringwald flick.
He was almost asleep when there was s soft knock on the door, the stupid little rhythm Steve always does. Billy was up in a second, vaulting over the back of the chair, opening the door.
“Hey,” Steve’s eyes were all bright. He gave Billy a peck on the lips as he came inside. “Oh, you smell good.” Billy made a snarky face at Max behind Steve’s back.
“Hey, Steve! Billy wouldn’t shut up about you.”
“Jesus Christ, Max.” Billy slumped back into the chair. Steve settled on his lap.
“Anything good?”
“Molly Ringwald.” Steve turned to El. “He said you were the Molly Ringwald.” Steve’s cheeks were flushed.
“I’m sorry?”
“Billy told me to ask Hopper.”
“Bill, you can’t keep telling her stuff. Hop’s gonna kill us.” Billy rolled his eyes, let Steve lean against him.
“I would, but it’s fucking hilarious, Stevie.” Steve shook his head.
“You’re the worst, Bill.”
#yikes writes#steve harrington#billy hargrove#max mayfield#el hopper#steve harrington x billy hargrove#billy hargrove x steve harrington#harringrove#harringrove fic#harringrove ficlet#harringrove drabble
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Feathers in a Bunch
{ @thedemonconstantine }
John trudged his way to the bathroom, a sound between a groan and a curse between his lips. He wasn’t even properly awake yet, but in the last couple of weeks he had established a routine that was solid enough to allow him to move without thinking and with his conscious mind still half trapped in his latest nightmare.
Wake up, kick the sheets off if they were still there. Go to the bathroom, throw up bile. Take care of the rest of his business, wash his face. Go back, make himself decent. See if he could get a few more gulps of the stash of liquor he had hidden in the wall next to his bed before Tim came to fetch him and forced him to eat breakfast.
He had tried other strategies, especially when the dreams left him even more messed up than they usually did, but after that one morning when the boy had caught him busy with...something a bit compromising, he had decided that the bathroom was the safest option. At least Tim always knocked before stepping in.
The water felt cold against his skin, definitely colder than it should have been. Not a surprise since his body had been running hotter since he had come back from Hell. He would have liked to say that he had caught some nasty otherworldly bug, but he was fully aware that it was all in his head. Just as everything else.
John rested his hands on the borders of the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. The bags under his eyes were so deep that they almost looked black in the light and he was a few shades too pale to be healthy. Oh, his brain was having the time of its life tormenting him. And some sick part of him had to be enjoying it all so very much. There was no other explanation to the physical reactions he had to some of his nightmares. None that he was open to consider, at least.
“Get yeh fuckin’ self together, oul son,” he muttered at the image that was looking back at him.
His stomach twisted painfully when, for a moment, he could have sworn that the reflection had smirked at him, sharp and ugly. Speaking of his mind playing tricks on him.
Constantine marched out of the bathroom, ready to head back down to the vault where he had been sleeping since Tim had insisted on moving in with him. However, his steps were soon halted as he tripped over something and crashed into the closest wall.
Something warm. That moved. Quite feathery too.
Oh no. He wasn’t dealing with that right now. Not as second thing in the morning.
“Bloody ‘Ell! TIMOTHY! Christ on a soddin’ bike! Woh th’ fuck did I tell yeh ‘bout keepin’ yeh fuckin’ bird outta me face?!”
And, against every kind of common sense, because he knew exactly what such an action would have caused, he tried to kick the owl.
#* Blokes like me? We cheat. * ::ic::#* I walk my path alone * ::threads::#* Feathers in a Bunch * ::thread::#sv. Invertigo#v. The Hellblazer#(( look at Scotty trying to be funny with titles ))#(( and FAILING ))#(( also someone woke up in a bad mood...again ))
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Steady As You Go [2/3]
The further adventures of Gordy’s leather trousers for @olliepig and @mrmustachious and @badthingshappenbingo. TW: Implied Drugging / Spiking, Drinking, and the aftermath of violence.
It’s actually not as bad as it sounds, honestly, I’m just cautious as fuck.
Prompt Gordon + Caught in an Explosion + Penelope (+ jealousy + disaster bisexual)
Gordon doesn’t bring the next bottle to the table, nor the one after that. They just seem to appear, dropped from the darkness by a large, calloused hand to be poured into glasses and down throats at a rate that would make even the most rum-hardened sailor of Gordon’s acquaintance quake with nauseous horror.
Well, some throats.
One throat. Probably.
Penelope, for her part, tips the glass to her lips often enough but her eyes are sharp, her bursts of laughter far too perfectly timed to be anything but by design.
Gordon's playing it a little more -- fast and loose.
Playing is probably the operative word.
He really can’t drink any more of this stuff though, because otherwise he’s likely to fall right off his perch on the arm of the sofa and Penny -- Penny will be mad. Penny kinda already looks mad. Huh. She lifts the glass to her mouth again, narrowing those over-dark eyes as she does so. Mr Gonna-Be-Arrested turns to beckon at one of the two giant goons that are lingering at the edges of Gordon’s vision, and Penny tosses the majority of the glass over her shoulder where it lands - presumably - in a puddle of other sticky, liquidy stuff that some poor sap will have to mop up in the cold light of day. Her eyes flick to Gordon’s own glass and one tightly drawn eyebrow ticks up. Oh. Oh.
He flicks his wrist.
It’s uh. It’s the wrong wrist.
Mr International-Crime jumps up, shaking little sparkles of champagne from his hands. The goons move in closer, fists tight in the flashing lights.
“Oh dear,” Penny sneers. “What an awful mess!”
Gordon would stick his tongue out at her, but there’s a soggy guy blocking his view and anyway it was her idea.
"Oh, whoops!" He pats at Marc's -- because that's his name, apparently, and apparently he thinks Gordon ought to use it -- freshly dampened trouser leg, "Oh man, gosh I'm so sorry boss! Uh --"
“Now, now,” Marc tuts, and one sticky hand covers Gordon’s. Holds it there, against the damp heat of his thigh. “That wasn’t very nice was it?” He smiles, leers, and half of Gordon knows that this is not at all a good thing. The other, somewhat tipsy, half thinks it looks like quite the promise. He might be Penny’s mark, with all the associations that Gordon’s spent several months trying not to think about, but it’s Gordon who finds himself caressed by one of those sticky hands. Marc’s cool fingers step down his throat, tilt his chin up, and this -- this really wasn’t the plan at all, but Gordon is nothing but adaptable. In every sense.
Either way, he’s gotta get this guy out of this club somehow.
He licks his lips, sends a silent prayer up that Scott never ever hears about this. “Maybe I just want to get you out of the suit.”
“Oh, is that --”
It’s not the first time he’s had a demijohn of very expensive alcohol poured over his head.
At least it’s not televised this time.
Gordon splutters in shock, shuddering as leatherette sticks uncomfortably under the unexpected shower. Marc for his part, is staring at something over his head, mouth agape. Gordon twists around, but his protest dies on the tip of his tongue.
“As entertaining as it is watching you flirt with the lower orders, we have business to attend to.” Penelope tosses her wig over her shoulder, and drops the empty bottle onto the couch beside him. Gordon blinks champagne out of his eyes and tries to catch hers, but her focus is entirely on Marc, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol she hasn’t drunk. “Or is my money not as interesting as this -- “ her eyes finally flick down to meet his for half a second. “Boy.”
“Hey lady,” Gordon snaps, “it’s the twenty first century, don’t get jealous.”
Penelope’s cheeks flush a little darker.
“Marc?”
“Of course -- I --” Marc pushes a damp curl off Gordon’s forehead and honestly it’s kinda a shame that he’s a bad guy because there would have been a time -- still. Marc pulls a keycard from his pocket, pushes it into Gordon’s hand. “Here, go upstairs. When I get back we can have a little chat about your career prospects.”
He bites back the FAB, but doesn’t quite manage to restrain himself from a sloppy sort of salute as he half staggers to his feet. There’s an unpleasant squelching as he does so, and he must have drunk a lot more than he thought because he sways on the spot, the room blurring in and out of focus. Someone, a large, calloused, someone, takes hold of his elbow.
“‘K, I -- hey, I can -- I can --” Penny and Marc fade into the shadows at the edge of his vision, and then he’s outside, released to slide against the rough brickwork of the alleyway, the night air freezing against his exposed skin. “Hey!”
The dark mountain of a man who’s dropped him outside pauses, but doesn’t turn around.
“Where’s -- where’s the stairs?”
“If you can find ‘em, up you go,” grumbles the mountain, “Otherwise, I suggest you watch out for the wildlife.”
A door opens into a world of light and sound, slams behind him, and Gordon thinks -- Gordon thinks --
“What the bleedin’ ‘ell happened to you? Get that bloody thing off!”
Gordon squints into the darkness. Something grey and grubby looking floats in front of him. Two somethings. One and a half. There’s a sharp pain in his neck, and his vision clears enough for him to see the grubby grey things coalesce into Parker, his face screwed up in disgust, a clear bit of plastic hanging from one gloved finger. Gordon rubs at the sore patch and glares up at him.
“What was that for? What’s that?”
“What’s --” he rolls his eyes. “For a group of smart young lads you ain’t ‘arf sheltered. Someone took a shine to you, did they?”
Gordon’s never been ashamed of who he is, never, but he finds the thought of coming out to Parker while wearing wet leather in a grubby alleyway is just a little bit beyond his comfort zone.
“Uh, he --”
“Take an old man’s advice, lad. Don’t go on a second date,” Parker says sagely, and taps his nose. Then he stands, peers out toward the main road. “Where’s ‘er Ladyship?”
A sharp drill seems to have started up right behind Gordon’s right eyebrow and he forces his fist into his temple as he gets to his feet.
“Leaving, I think. Deal’s on.”
Parker drops the square of plastic to the floor and crushes it beneath the heel of his boot.
“Grand.” He claps his hands together, and shrugs off the battered old overcoat he’d been wearing. “I’ll be orf, then. You ok lad?”
Not really, is the answer, but Gordon has Marc’s keycard in his pocket and he knows that if Penny’s operation is to come off she’s gonna need all the evidence she can get. After all they know from hard experience that catching them red-handed rarely seems to be enough.
“Yeah, sure.” Parker holds out the coat, but it smells kinda funky and Gordon shakes his head. “S’ok, I got -- got a plan.”
Parker peers at him, then sighs. “If you say so. Miss Kayo nearby?”
“Totally,” Gordon assures him. “Go. Penny will need you.”
Parker hums, hesitates a moment longer before grabbing at a nearby rusted shopping trolley filled with more of the funky smelling grey fabric. As Gordon watches the fabric shifts, falling away to reveal a complex looking piece of flashing, bleeping electronics. God, his head hurts.
“Don’t you fret, Mr Gordon,” Parker assures him as he pulls a remote control from the machinery. “I’ll see to her.”
From high, high above them comes the whine of engines, and they both look up to see FAB1, black as the sky above, hovering over the alleyway. Her VTOLs fill the alley with an unearthly blue light, and in it Gordon sees the carefully cut staircase that leads up and away and into the shadowy building above.
“Right,” he says. “Right.”
--
He’d lingered long enough to see Parker and his fancy machinery safely away in FAB1, waiting until he’s sure that he’s alone before approaching the staircase. His head is pounding and his legs are still feeling strange, but he presses upward regardless, keeping one hand on the brick wall to steady himself as the ground falls away. He doesn’t even see the door at first, only the flash of a red light then the green as his keycard passes over it, and he’s not beyond admitting the relief that he feels as it opens inwards and he half falls in.
How long do arms deals take, exactly? He could use a nap.
Except -- Except, oh. Someone may have beaten him to it.
“Hello?”
The feet at the end of the hallway don’t move from where they’re pointing up to the vaulted ceiling. Smart shoes, but not over polished. The cuffs of a pair of dark trousers just visible over navy socks.
When they were kids John always used to say that Gordon was too stupid to feel fear, and sometimes, sometimes that was probably true. Sorta. He's always been more about the rush, the adrenaline, fear to him has rarely been a baseline negative anyway. It works for him. Mostly.
Thunderbird four surveys the corridor. Spots the darkly spreading stain on the wooden flooring. Slows his pace to a stop. The air smells like rust and sulphur, the silence is thick as blood.
There’s an old style umbrella stand just beyond the door, and he takes hold of it, grips the central pillar tight as he takes another step forward.
“My name’s Gordon,” he calls. “I’m here to help. Can you answer me?”
He reaches the end of the corridor, umbrella stand extended like a rapier and the answer -- well, the answer is no.
The man, or what’s left of him, lies sprawled on his back, glazed eyes and mouth wide in a silent scream, russet dried in thick rivulets around the gaping wound in his chest and where it had poured from him to pool around his feet. There’s a gun still loosely held in one blue hand. Safety off. One in the chamber.
He’d been prepared, but too slow on the draw. Poor bastard.
Gordon drops his umbrella stand and reaches down to peel the stiff fingers away from the gun, He clicks the safety back on, and stuffs it, as best as he can manage, into the waistband of his trousers. Unsure of what else to use under the circumstances, he unbuttons his sticky, sodden waistcoat and lays it gently over the staring, screaming face.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I really am.”
He has to bodily force himself back up to his feet, his body aching something rotten, but it doesn’t matter, not compared to the spark of absolute dread that burns through him as he looks around the apartment proper.
It's wrecked.
Every drawer, every table is tipped over, their contents scattered far and wide and battered by what looks like several pairs of boot prints. There's gunpowder streaked up the walls, smatterings of red brown across overturned sofas, and maybe Gordon ought to give his dead guy a little bit more credit.
Maybe he's just a shit shot.
Glass crunches underfoot as Gordon cautiously pushes on the closest, half shut door. Behind it lies the bedroom, simple enough with bare brick walls and a grey coverlet on the king size bed, but it's not much better than the rest of the place, not really. The wardrobes are open, contents spilling all over the floor, a pair of handcuffs and a sheet of those funny little bits of plastic hanging from the bedside cabinet -- and wires, dozens of wires, pulled from the ceiling, from the walls and amongst it all, the only life in the whole godforsaken place, a tiny, holographic image of Penny with the words sale agreed flashing above her dark head and beside her, scrawled on a light type by another hand:
That damn girl.
And half drunk and half naked, sticky and cold and yeah, probably coming down from something, with a dead body in the next room and in the middle of a gangland battlefield, that’s the moment Gordon Tracy finally, truly feels fear.
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A Pirate Walked Into A Bar...
This is for @sterek-bingo I didn’t have time to completely finish it, but all tags are included. This is almost 25k words, so make sure you got the time lol. Anyway I hope you like it! I’m so excited to finish this, so my hope is to have it completely done by the end of june.
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"Shit, shit, fuck, FUCK!" Stiles vaulted over the boxes blocking the alley way. His eyes scanned the path as fast as they could, looking for any possible escape. His breath was coming out in harsh waves. His legs were stinging.
"You there! Stop!" The voice came from closer than he would've liked. It was followed by the clatter of people giving chase.
"Fuck, fuck, fuckity fucking ell." He was too far from the sea, and with the way he was running he had no idea if he was getting closer or farther away. Stiles darted down another alley way, this one much narrower and more cluttered with dirt and boxes. It was like the walls were slowly closing in and soon he would have no where else to run.
The clattering was getting closer, but they were still out of sight as Stiles kept weaving down different paths.
There was a crossroads up ahead. If Stiles pushed fast enough he could get through the crossroad and down the next alley fast enough that they would have to split up.
He darted out into the road just as a cart came barreling through. It knocked him off his feet. God bless the fuckin queen, that hurt his hip! As he tried to get up he looked around. A big red sign posted at the top of one of the buildings drew his eyes.
He knew where he was.
"Stop that pirate!" A voice boomed from directly behind him. The few people who were around all turned their eyes to him. The people just looked on, not even caring if he was caught.
Stiles scrambled up and grabbed his hat. As he ran to his new charted path, he kicked the wagon's gate down and apples spilled all over the road. He didn't even slow his pace as he leaned down to grab an apple. He took a bite and turned around still moving. He smiled around a bite of apple before he hurled the rest right at the crown's guard leading the charge. He turned back around, not even seeing if it hit him. The answering annoyed, 'Stiles!' was enough.
He took off, once again laughing. He could hear the clatter of at least two guards slipping on apples as the rest followed him again.
Stiles had never been so grateful for being knocked on his ass. He would've never seen that sign if he wasn't. All he needed, all any self respecting pirate, would need is just one point. One point to let them know where they are, to find out where they need to go. And Stiles' Northstar was the, 'Shoddy shirt and chantey shanty,' big red sign with bold letters and a half naked lady on it.
They were within sight so he needed to lose them first. He sped seemingly at random through alleys and in and out of houses and businesses that were most welcoming at his unexpected and late polite visit.
Stiles vaulted a dinner table.
"Get the fuck out! Thief! Guards! There's a thief in my house!"
"Pirate!" Stiles called over his shoulder as he burst out the back door with huffing breath.
They were greatly slowed down by having to clatter after him through a house and finally they could still hear him, but not see him.
Stiles looped back and finally started towards where he wanted to go. He could taste the salt water and feel the sea calling to him behind him, but he could not go that way. He would never make it through the dense quarter at this time. Either someone or one of the many crown's guard would stop him. He could barely hear the thud of boots over the harsh panting of his breath, but he still felt as if they were on his heels nonetheless. He could tell he was getting tired, but he needed to push on.
Just as he was turning a guard came crashing into the wall right behind him.
"Oh fuck."
Two of the guards must've tried to get around him, but failed. They didn't make it in front of him, but they were right at his back.
If this didn't work exactly he was screwed.
He took two quick turns in succession and finally he was close.
He shot down the alley to the left and quickly concealed himself in an alcove.
When they ran past he quickly and as quietly as he could, made it to the alley now on his left, which he would've gone straight into before his misdirect.
There was a man blocking the path up ahead, emptying a barrel into a trash bin. He could hear them turning around and shouting at each other that he went back. The man turned to put the trash bin back inside the door he was keeping open showing a warm glowing room. Stiles didn't slow his pace as he plowed right towards the man. He was closing the bin when Stiles barreled into his chest and grabbed his shirt and the door behind the man. Stiles quickly went backwards into the lit room, hauling the man along with him by his shirt and tugging the door right behind them. The door latched and there was a thud as Stiles pressed the man against the door and followed his body with his own.
"Don't make a sound." The man's eyes were wide with confusion, but as the boots and yells went cluncking by he seemed content to just hold his breath.
Stiles tried to slow and quiet his own breath as he pressed closer to the man trying to stay out of the windows view as they went by.
Stiles counted the sets of footfalls as they went by, and when the final pair cleared he let out a heavy breath.
"Well, that's one way to finish your day." Stiles let out a laugh.
The man was still pressed against the door like they were about to burst through it. Stiles could hear muffled movement out in the hall.
"What the fuck Stiles!"
"Oh calm down. I'm only in trouble if they catch me, sourwolf."
FIVE MONTHS AGO
Derek's shoulders ached and his eyelids begged to close, but he had to finish carting the heavy barrels before he could go to sleep. His family could no longer afford to rent the cart and steed they normally did to haul the weeks brews from their distillery to their bar. With the raging war outside their lands laying waste to their country, and the war inside it barely held back by the tentative so called peace and the people poorer than they had seen in decades, no one could afford anything.
If anyone saw a man carting a barrel on each shoulder it would certainly give him away, so he had to finish under the cover of dusk. It was very late but with his bed calling him like a siren's song, he finished earlier than normal. He was about to go up the steps to where his family slept above the bar, when he realized there weren't as many heartbeats as there should've been. That was odd. Usually everyone was in bed by now.
He slowly crept back down and tried to listen, but he could only see the light coming from the room in the back of the bar that functioned as his mother's office. He slowly opened the window he knew wouldn't make a sound and tried to pick up something.
"-rate we won't make it three months!" That was Laura's voice, she sounded stressed and upset.
"Be that as it may, we need actual solutions, not just more problems." That was his mother's voice calming and commanding, but no less stressed which worried him. His mother didn't get stressed.
"I've already told you what we need to do!"
"No. I won't do that. You know that."
"Mother! Please just consider it. The pirates make enough plundering the seas, but now they're taking our livelihood with their cheap smuggled moonshine! We could at least ask them to stop. Look, I know that they do some good keeping the crown's guard occupied and when they help, but this is our survival we're talking about! If we're to remain in this city we have to consider our options."
He could hear his mother sigh as though there was a weight on her chest he never knew was there. "Laura, you'll make a great alpha one day, but you must consider grander things than just your pack if you're ever going to be more than that."
More than an alpha? What was she talking about?
"What would you have me do anyway? We don't know all of the pirates. Would we talk to the pirates? Reason with them? Run them out of town? Which could expose us, and then where would we be? Put to death."
His mother seemed to soften her face. "I know you want to fix this, but we can't. We must wait. He will come, I'm sure of it. We have to wait here for him and I know that's not the answer you want, but it's the only one I have."
Who was he? Who would come?
His dad which had only been a heartbeat he could hear on the other side of the room came closer and wrapped Laura in his arms. "We'll be okay little wolf. Your mother has a plan."
He could hear Laura's heartbeat relax, but the worried look his parents shared while Laura's head was tucked into his shoulder had his beating faster.
His mother came over and rested all of their heads together so they could focus on each others heartbeats and calm down.
Just as they had gotten settled, his mother's head shot up and her eyes glowed directly at him. "Derek?"
They saw him now and he didn't want to pretend like he hadn't heard it anyway.
He opened the door and walked in. "So everything you said about the war being the reason we are going out of business is a lie? It's really filthy pirates and their bootleg pisswater they call liquor?!"
"Derek!"
He was so angry he didn't even feel sorry for his outburst. "What? What mom, you want me to calm down about my family about to lose their home and business because of some no good thieves that like to think they're important because they have a boat and get away with it! They're the scum of the seas!"
Laura turned to him. "You sound like Captain Whittemore."
That stopped the boiling of his blood with what felt like a slap. He hadn't realized he had almost directly quoted the man that would like nothing more than to skin his entire family alive.
"I-I um-"
"You, need to calm down." His mother flashed her eyes at him and he felt the shame of his outburst. It wasn't their fault and he finally realized they were as scared as he was.
His father started to lead him upstairs. "They'll figure it out son. Don't worry about it." His father had no eyes to flash at him, but he felt it as a command anyway.
When they made it upstairs his dad checked the girls' room. He could see his cousin Lily in bed, but Laura's was predictably empty.
His father followed him to his room and checked for Thomas, who was of course curled up in his bed instead of his own. With them all accounted for he gave Derek a hug and bid him goodnight.
His muscles protested even moving his small sleeping brother.
His eyes opened wide, but seeing Derek he calmed. "What took you so long?"
Derek let out a small laugh. "I'd like to see you haul all of those barrels champ."
Thomas started to crawl out of his bed.
"You can stay."
Thomas looked at him confused and with his bed head he looked adorable. "You usually kick me out."
"That's because you actually kick me in the neck. But you can stay tonight."
Thomas didn't think twice. He crawled right back into the middle of the bed and Derek didn't have it in him to care. He got changed into his sleep clothes and gently moved a yawning Thomas over. He protectively curled around him and got settled in.
A small sleepy voice spoke. "Are you letting me stay because of whatever has mom, dad, and Laura so worried?"
Thomas had none of the enhanced senses that his siblings and cousin had, but he always could sense things. In some ways he was more in tune with things than any of them. "No I'm letting you stay so the kraken under your bed doesn't eat you." He smiled when Thomas turned to him to give him a flat look. "And there's nothing to worry about." He put an arm around Thomas and pulled him as close as he could. "Go to sleep Tommy."
Thomas let out a yawn and soon his heartbeat was slowed.
He was still seething with the new found enemy, at finally having a channel for his anger, but seeing Thomas sleeping peacefully he calmed. Derek placed a kiss on his forehead and spoke once more before letting his brothers heartbeat lull him to sleep. "We'll protect you."
---
Derek awoke the next morning to a forceful pain in his neck. He shot up with claws and glowing eyes. He looked around wildly. Once he new everything was okay he flopped back down and pulled a pillow on top of his face with clawless fingers.
The sound was muffled, but no less frustrated, "Ughgshghh omas at urt!"
Derek moved the pillow to see Thomas was still sound asleep with his head on the opposite side of the bed and his foot close to Derek's face. Derek shoved it off the bed and he didn't even stir. Derek got up with a huff and got changed. He headed downstairs to start his work.
He kissed his mother's head where she was bent over her desk. When she looked up at him his head tilted towards the floor. She brought her wrist up and rubbed it against his neck. Once he looked up she wrapped her hand around the side of his neck and gently stroked his jaw. "Don't worry. We will handle it."
Derek opened his mouth to protest, but decided not to. "Okay."
She smiled and pulled his head down to kiss his forehead. "Good. Now go help your sister so she can head to the distillery."
In the face of all their budget cutting Laura took the brunt of the distillery work. She only helped set up the bar in the mornings while his mother sorted paperwork. Once she went to the distillery the bar was managed by Derek till the end of work rush and then his mother helped. His father was a teacher, but was recently let go so if he didn't have an odd job or two he helped out when he wasn't giving the younger two kids lessons.
They were all constantly working nowadays, just to barely make ends meet. Derek could remember even just a couple months ago when things were good, but there was supposedly some big peace meeting in a couple months that had tensions rising and the people preparing for an all out war. As the months dragged on things got tighter and tighter. Now, he just wished the noose closing around their necks was on the filthy pirates stealing their lively hood. But Derek had to put that all away to get though the day, it was much too heavy for this early.
The mornings were always slow. There was nothing really to do except get set up for the day. Pretty soon Laura was leaving him in charge of the two barflies, Kevin and Mark, that seemingly never left the place. It was slow up until it wasn't. The lunch rush came like it always did, all at once. Even though it wasn't as much as it had always been, Derek was busy. It wasn't until two that he finally felt like he wasn't rushed off his feet.
He was just pouring a refill for someone as the bar doors slammed open. All eyes in the bar turned to the stranger in the entryway as he quickly closed the doors behind him. He was out of breath, but acting like he wasn't. After a pause as he surveyed the room, he started to saunter towards the bar, but as shouting crown's guard walked past he sat down with a clatter at an occupied table. His back was to the door as he slung an arm around the man sitting there.
"Hi, how ya doing?"
The man sneered and started to pull away. The stranger pulled out a coin and flicked it onto the table in front of the man with his thumb. "Have a drink on me pal." The coin was worth at least three drinks and the man swept it up with a smile.
The man was pleased with his presence then, and tried to get him to stay, but as soon as the shouting stopped he resumed his path towards the bar. "Sorry, I can't stay friend."
He reached the bar and knocked on it as if Derek wasn't already looking at him. "Three things call me: the sea, rum,-" He reached up to point towards a middle shelf rum. "And f-"
Derek caught his wrist before he could pull it back down. "You're a pirate." Derek said the word with a sneer as he looked down at the brand.
The stranger quickly schooled his startled expression. "Nonsense. The P stands for pretty, my face was such a distraction Captain Jackson Whittemore had to brand it into my skin. I am a fine upstanding citizen of this country just like you all. God bless the rightful queen." He lifted his other hand like he was toasting the drink he did not possess yet.
"So I could just call those guards back here?"
The stranger tutted like he was speaking to a child. "Now is that any way to treat a paying customer?"
Derek flung the arm that had still been firmly in his grip. "Your money is no good here." He spit his next word out like vitriol. "Pirate."
That only made the stranger smirk with a fire like look in his eyes. "Have I bed your wife? You seem to be very angry with someone you don't know."
Derek grit his teeth.
"No that's not it. Perhaps I refused to bed you?"
Derek's veins burned as did his cheeks. The other patrons seemed to chuckle at the barb, finally turning back to their drinks.
"No, that's not it either." The stranger leaned over the bar into his space to speak softly. "I wouldn't have refused." He tossed a suggestive wink and as he leaned back his eyes raked up and down Derek in a way that made him feel naked.
"Maybe I bed your sister."
Derek closed his eyes because he knew they would bleed blue. He quickly clenched his claws into his fists, hoping the stranger didn't see them.
"Get out before I make you." Derek snarled around teeth. This was one of the filthy people taking his family's business and he came to flaunt it in his face with jokes. Derek would rip his throat out with his teeth if it wouldn't put his family in more danger.
"Hm, no. I think we can come to an agreement. I-"
"I will call the guards back here." Derek could finally open his eyes and it was to a smile that had no right to be that disarming or that smug.
"You see, I don't think you will." The stranger gave a meaningful look down at his hands and when Derek looked he then tapped on the bar before scrapping against it with his fingernails. "I think you're about to pour me a drink."
Derek was just about to pull him into the back alley to beat that smirk right off his face when the pirate lifted a heavy coin purse to the bar. As soon as it clanked down the ties loosened enough to see in. It was enough gold coins for a third of their expenses for the entire month.
"I think you're going to pour me a house rum while taking my coin. Because between me and you, I think you'd rather have a filthy pirate drink here than have everyone you know brought before the Captain."
Derek couldn't help the fear that filled his chest as he said that. Every single were brought before the Captain was never seen again. Well, sometimes there would be a piece of jewelry or a blood stained article of clothing given to the uninvolved human family members if it was something they didn't know about. But if they had so much as a hint, they were gone too. The Captain was known for killing anyone who was even suspected of being in league with supernaturals. He was called the Kanima Captain, because almost like a reptile, he left no trace of people, seemingly swallowing entire families whole. Derek only had a moment to consider as the crown's guard filed back past.
The pirate seemed to give him an amused look like he didn't care if Derek called them in here. Like he would be just as happy running away.
"Fine." Derek snarled back swiping the coin purse.
The pirate smiled and threw down some more coins from a pocket. "And another round for the tavern filled with friends I've made." The pirate looked back to see if his bribe would work and the people cheered and tipped their glasses up in appreciation.
Derek poured his drink closer to the top than he normally would if not to just keep him from speaking that much longer.
As he turned back, the pirate was already mid story with Mark, who could barely keep his head up. The pirate must've taken the wobble his head does towards the bar as a nod of encouragement. He turned with sharp eyes to Derek who was wearing the most malicious look he had.
The pirate's lips only stopped moving once the glass was being tilted back and resumed as soon as it was empty.
Derek didn't move his spiteful stare away from the pirate, he knew better than to take your eyes off a thief.
The pirate finished his story and turned back to Derek. "You know if you look at me any more intensely I'll assume you want something. We already know about your scorn for pirates and their supposed thievery, so you must not want me to steal something for you. I already gave you money. I suppose there is one more thing I'm famous for." The pirate gave him a lecherous grin.
"The only thing I want from you, pirate, is for you to get out of my bar."
"Well, I think one drink is much too soon for you to take me back to your place. I mean, even if you were to try to take advantage of me, one drink is not enough to get me disoriented. I am a pirate after all." The pirate scrunched his nose mockingly as he said pirate.
"Oh I'm sure there isn't enough rum in the world to make you act even more as indecent and appalling as you do sober."
He smirked at Derek. "Not nearly."
Derek rolled his eyes and continued on with his job. He couldn't wait for the pirate to leave. As luck would have it, he just tossed down way too many coins and ordered himself another round.
Derek dutifully poured it.
Derek was on the other side of the bar pouring a drink when Thomas came down. The wolf inside him panicked. He wanted to be in between his pack and the pirate that seemed nothing but trouble.
"Tommy aren't you in the middle of lessons with Dad?"
Thomas shrugged. "I was hungry. He told me to ask you for something."
Derek seemed frazzled. "Right okay, there should be some dried meat over there. Grab it and go back upstairs." Derek tried to finish with the group, but they kept asking him questions.
"I can't find it."
Derek was about to huff at him to look with his eyes when he remembered Laura grabbed the snack on her way out. "Okay sorry bud, I didn't get time to pick up anything else. Just giv-"
"Here."
Derek stiffened at the voice. He turned to see the pirate washing an apple with his soft flowy shirt. He held it out to Thomas.
Derek put the pitcher down and moved towards them quickly. "Tommy don't take that."
Thomas seemed to look at the pirate appraisingly. He took the apple and smelled it.
"Tommy!"
"What? It's just an apple." He took a bite and Derek felt his heart fall out. He rushed the rest of the way to Thomas.
"What did I say? Huh! I told you not to take it!" All he could smell was the sweet scent of fruit, but there were many scentless poisons. He went to snatch it out of his hands, but Thomas moved it and stuck out his tongue.
"Easy friend. I did not mean to offend you. He seemed hungry."
Derek turned turned to the pirate and snarled in his face. "Do not, call me friend!"
The pirate held up his hands, and Derek wanted nothing more than to just rip them from his body. Something about this man irritated him so much. Just the way he looked got under his skin.
"Whoa, you're scaring me." Thomas' eyes looked shiny. "Did I do something wrong?" Thomas' voice went small as he looked at the pirate. "Is he a bad man?"
The look on the pirate's face looked totally foreign to anything Derek thought it could look like.
"No, I'm not. I just said some rude things to your brother. He made me feel like I was wrong just because of what I am, so I said some things I shouldn't have. I am sorry for what I said though... Well. most of it. Some of it. Do you think your brother will forgive me for what I am and what I said?" The pirate didn't take his eyes off Thomas and it made his wolf bristle at how earnest he was looking at his brother. Like he actually cared what he said.
Thomas looked confused. "That doesn't sound like Derek. He would never hate anybody for what they are. Just who they choose to be. He can seem kinda mean sometimes though. But he's not. He even let me sleep in his bed last night even though I always kick him!"
Derek's cheeks flamed once again.
Stiles glanced up at him. "Is that so?"
"Yeah. So I'm sure he will forgive you for what you said. Well, as long as you didn't say anything about his family." Thomas laughed. "He once gave Louis, the butcher's son, a knuckle sandwich for saying Laura couldn't do better than him."
"Well, what if I tried real hard, even if I did that, would he forgive me?"
He seemed to consider. "I think so. Derek's the best big brother ever. He never stays mad at me." Thomas looked up at him so adoringly his heart almost melted.
"Well then, I guess I should apologize."
Derek was brought away from Thomas to look at the pirate. "No need. Pirate."
Thomas' eyes went wide. "You're a pirate?" He spoke in a hushed awed tone.
He booped his nose. "Sure am, kiddo."
"Is the kraken real?" Thomas asked in a rush.
The pirate laughed and leaned down from his bar stool after glancing around to see if anyone was looking. He whispered into his ear. "She sure is, but between me and you, she's a total sweetheart."
Derek put an arm on the pirate's shoulder to pull him back. "Tommy, go finish your work."
"But Derek-"
"Thomas." Derek spoke with a commanding voice.
"Ugh fine." Thomas turned to the pirate before leaving. "What's your name?"
"Well, your brother just calls me pirate, but my name is Stiles."
Thomas' face scrunched up as Derek spoke, "What the hell is a Stiles?"
Stiles rolled his eyes. "What's your name kid?"
Thomas beamed before holding out his hand. "My name is Thomas, but Derek calls me Tommy."
Stiles smiled. "Should I call you Tommy?"
Derek moved in between them and put his hand on the bar. "You shouldn't call him anything."
Thomas wedged underneath Derek's arm. "You should call me Thomas." Derek had an annoyed scowl on his face.
"And you can call my brother D-" Thomas' eyes widened slightly and Derek's arm tightened around him. "Miguel. You can call him Miguel."
Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Miguel?"
Derek tightened the arm around him as he spoke with clenched teeth. "Miguel."
"I can't breathe, you meanie. Let me go." Thomas landed a boney elbow right between his ribs and as soon as he doubled over he scurried back up the steps.
As Derek was regaining his breath he realized how close he had gotten to the pirate. He took two steps back.
"Relax. I only bite if you make me." His gleaming teeth somehow seemed more threatening than half the wolves he's met.
"Finish your drink and then leave. I'm not asking."
Stiles swallowed it all down then stood. "Well, I'm not one to overstay my welcome."
"You did that the moment you stepped foot in here."
Stiles let out a laugh. "Man, what do you have against pirates?"
"You are dirty thieves that don't think about how you hurt anyone else. You don't care about anyone and no one cares about you."
The pirate slapped his hand down on the bar. "You know it's bigots like you who don't think to even try to understand someone before going right to judging. I would think you would know better, but apparently not. You know, not all pirates are just the trash that this society throws out to the seas, sometimes we leave because we know this society is the trash and needs to be fixed. I don't take down the little fishing boats trying to make a living. I take down the royal ships so laden with treasures they've stolen from other lands just because they have less firepower! I take down ships with enough money to help the kingdom, but the Argents would rather hoard it for power!"
Derek took his arm harshly. "If you're going to flaunt that you're a pirate a few drinks might make them forget, but if you want to talk about just who you steal from I'd lower your voice. Most don't give a damn, but some care for the Argents."
The pirate still had rage in his eyes as he looked at the attention he had grabbed, but he nodded at Derek and stormed through the doors.
Derek's day passed like all of the ones before and soon enough he was tossing out the days trash and then getting ready for bed for it to all start over again tomorrow.
He kissed Thomas on the head and crawled into bed.
"Psst. Derek."
Derek opened his eyes. "Yes Tommy?"
"We met a pirate today!"
Derek couldn't help the churning in his stomach at Thomas' delighted tone. "We did."
He heard rustling. "Don't sound like that Derek. We met a pirate! You love pirates!"
Derek swiveled his head to look at where Thomas was sitting up in bed. "I do not!"
"You do too. You always tell me stories about awesome pirates!"
"That's different."
"How?"
Derek opened his mouth before he found something he could say. "Those pirates are fake."
"So?"
"Well, they don't actually steal from people."
"Robin hood is fake, but if someone actually stole from rich people to give to the poor people he would be good."
"That's not the same thing."
"Why?"
It infuriated Derek when he did that. Used one word answers to completely derail what Derek said. "Because. Okay. Just because."
"But why?"
Derek turned to groan in his pillow. "Because, Stiles is a filthy pirate that steals okay. Now go to bed."
"I'm not tired. I want a story about pirates." Derek knew he did that just to press the issue.
"Tommy go to sleep before I smother you with my pillow."
He heard a huff and Thomas angrily turning towards the wall and shoving around his blankets.
Derek could practically see the pouty lip. He closed his eyes and sighed. "There once was a pirate, he was a bad pirate. He got put in jail and everyone celebrated at the bar. The end."
"That's the worst story you've ever told." Derek could hear the smile in his voice just like the one he was wearing.
"Tomorrow night's will be better. Get some sleep. I love you Tommy."
Thomas yawned. "I love you too Derek."
For once Derek was not awoken by Thomas crawling into his bed or nightmares. He was awoken by a crash in the alley. The alley that was right below their window. Derek scrambled out of bed shoving the blankets away and snagging a shirt as he went towards the hall. He walked out the hall and was met with glowing red eyes in the darkness of the room across the hall. The glowing gave way to darkness and his mother stepped into the faintly lit hallway.
"Did you hear it?"
"It did not sound big. Are you sure you closed the bin? Those raccoons are probably back. Go check Derek."
They had been plagued by the pesky vermin since Lily had left food out for them for a week and now no matter what they would not leave. Derek nodded at his mother and headed down the stairs and he grabbed a broom before going through the back door.
Derek let out a sigh as he closed the door behind himself.
When he turned around the silhouette of a man startled him into dropping the broom and growing claws and fangs. The flash of his eyes brought clear sight of someone he dreaded to see.
"Man you are the worst secret werewolf ever. That's twice now. If the crown's guard weren't such incompetent imbeciles I would say you'd have a problem."
Derek quickly shifted back. Maybe he would get a chance to beat him up in the back alley. "Say it a bit louder why don't you?!" Derek hissed out.
Stiles lifted a challenging eyebrow. "Man you really are the wor-" Stiles' lifted voice was quickly cut off by a hand over his mouth. A hand that had been across the alley, not but a moment ago. Derek's body was close enough to be threatening, but not enough to be squishing Stiles' bag in-between them. Derek's eyes made him look like he was about to tear Stiles to shreds as the hand gripped Stiles' mouth in a vice.
Stiles licked it.
"Augh gross! What are you, a child?"
Stiles stuck out his tongue. "Well then, you shouldn't cover my mouth. I need it for things." Stiles made a suggestive face at him.
"I don't want anymore filthy pirate on me, thank you."
The suggestive nature was wiped away by irritation. "Alright then. I believe that brings this conversation to an end then. If you would please excuse me, I have some business to attend to." Stiles did a mock bow. When he leaned back up he made a gesture like he was waiting for Derek to leave.
Derek had unimpressed eyebrows and petulantly crossed his arms. "I'm not moving until you leave my alley."
"This isn't your alley."
Derek's eyebrows taunted him and he adjusted so he stood a little taller. "That's my family's bar and we live right above it, I think it's safe to say this is my alley."
Stiles' eyes flickered up to above the bar and Derek inwardly cursed himself for giving out that piece of sensitive information. He didn't know what it was about the pirate, but he disarmed him while making him want nothing more than to just press his body against the wall and use his teeth on the man. "Not that it's any of your business pirate."
Stiles smiled. It seemed he was getting used to the sneer. That made Derek's blood boil.
"No, but it is good to know." Stiles chuckled. "If I ever need to find you, I'll know where to look."
Derek's face must've betrayed what he was thinking, because instantly Stiles' hand was no longer gripping the light brown satchel he had slung over his body and instead was clutching his arm.
"I mean you no harm." If Derek didn't know that he was dishonest for a living he'd swear he'd never seen a more honest man than he did in the face before him. "No matter what I said in the bar, I would never, and I mean never, put your family in harms way just because of who you are." Stiles' eyes were leaking sincerity and Derek found his shoulders slumping down in a calm relief he hadn't felt in months. It was dizzying how quickly the mood and conversation had changed.
Derek caught up to himself after a few moments of staring right into his eyes. Derek nodded minutely and stepped back while brushing off his hand. Derek had never been accepted for who he was entirely, ever, by anyone outside of his family. His family had to be constantly vigilant, never letting anyone too close. He felt flayed raw and his insides were a mess of not knowing what to do or how to feel. He had become so used to hiding who he was, never letting anyone in, and here was this pirate sauntering into his life when he should've been running. Or maybe Derek should've been the one that ran, but somehow he felt transfixed. Either way right now he had no idea what he should be doing, but he knew even if he wanted to, running would be the last thing he did. Even if he had no idea why.
Thomas hadn't been entirely wrong, though. He did like pirates, but that was before he found out that pirates were the ones stealing his family's business. Had been the reason for months of worry and barely scraping by. Months of Lily and Thomas no longer getting the cakes he used to buy them from the corner bakery, or the joy they brought. Months of Laura having to do the jobs they could no longer afford to pay anyone else to do. Months of his mom in her office making sure they didn't spend a single gold coin too much. Months of his dad trying to pick up odd jobs that had his bones creaking in a way that never failed to remind them how human he really was. They had owned New Haven for as long as Derek could remember. He couldn't lose it. He wouldn't. Not to the likes of this pirate.
And now that he had somewhere to focus all of the anger, that seemed to be more of a part of his heart than the blood pumping through it, he wouldn't let that go. Even still, just for this moment all of what had been suffocating him seemed to vanish to be replaced by desperation. It had been so long since he had felt something that deep other than anger. He almost forgot he could feel other ways. He still felt for his family of course, but the rage was always there. There were always flames crawling up his throat and licking the back of his brain. Now it was like cold ocean water was dumped down his back.
He nodded again. No matter how earnest Stiles seemed, Derek felt like he had to convince him. "We don't bother anyone. They would take the kids. He's only eight, she's nine. They don't deserve that. We aren't monsters, we ar-" Derek could tell he was getting himself worked up.
"Hey hey, I know. I know. Stupid heartless people that are afraid are the only ones who think that you are. You don't deserve any of the shit the Argent's rule has brought upon you. No supernatural being does."
Nobody ever disrespected the Argents like that. They grumbled and didn't care about them, but no one voiced their opinions like that. But maybe that was the plus of being a pirate. It made him wonder why the venom in Stiles' eyes was there. Why did he hate them so much? It seemed personal to him. Derek discretely took a breath in through his nose. Surely he wouldn't have missed it if Stiles was a were.
"I'm not a shifter. I just know when something is wrong."
Derek tried to not let it show that he was surprised Stiles caught him. "What about stealing, isn't that wrong?"
"Not if it was already stolen."
Derek scoffed. "So you're telling me everything you steal has been stolen?"
"No, I'm saying I only steal from the Argents and everything they have was either stolen of the backs of their people or from the rightful ruling families of Beacon and Duszasdom. They rule with an iron fist and Queen Victoria is as fit to rule as the crazed vengencewolf Captain. She lives for nothing other than to see her lands rid of peaceful families just because they are different, even at the expense of her own. She has no right to rule, much less of a claim on the riches of those kingdoms. They can talk peace and prosperity all they want, but the war with King Deucalion is ravaging the lands! The only thing keeping their control is their army of hunters and the so called strengthening arrangements. Just because they gave away the southeastern half of Beacon to the now Queen Natalie and Lady Lydia and the rest to Kate doesn't mean that that vile woman doesn't control it too! And they might have won tentative favor among the Duszaonians with my- the Sheriff's approval, but that won't last long. It might look nice on paper, but make no mistake that family controls everything and everyone who submits to them! And I refuse! Refuse! To be one of them! So call me dirty pirate all you want, I will never submit to a rule under an Argent who thinks about how she can kill innocents just because they're different, before she thinks about the good of her people! The Argents focus their armies inwardly hounding anyone who so much as growls all the while Deucalion slaughters her supposed subjects at the borders! She is unfit to rule as is her sister-in-law! The Argents do not deserve what they took!"
Stiles was heaving with rage in his eyes. If Derek didn't know better he would say that the air was actually charged with lighting, everything felt electric. Stiles seemed to collect himself, but it was more like the lighting was in a bottle now. He may have corked it, but there was still a danger there. "All I'm saying is, I might steal, but I steal from the right people. I don't hurt innocents. There are much worse things out there to be than a pirate."
Derek almost wanted to scream my family is innocent, but with how worked up Stiles had been he thought against it. "You can think what you'd like. I don't want to see you around here again. You are loud with your views and no matter if they are true or not, they attract attention. Attention we don't need. This is private property. Get away." Derek barely held back the urge to make a shooing motion.
Gone was the rage as Stiles slipped into that lazy smile he seemed to always wear. "Private property? This is an alley."
Derek was back to being annoyed. "My alley."
"Okay okay. I'll leave just one question."
Derek let out a huff of exasperation.
"Is it private property to the rat too?" He pointed at a small mouse eating a piece of banana peel.
"Should I take him with me? Or are you going to snap your teeth at h-" Stiles ducked the broom Derek swung at him with a laugh. He started down the alley and called over his shoulder. "Okay, okay. You win sourwolf, I'm going." He started walking backwards to look at Derek. "But I know you'll miss me."
Derek deadpanned. "Desperately."
Stiles let out an obnoxious laugh and set off in a jog. "Goodnight Miguel." Stiles' voice had a strange lilt when he said his name like he knew it was fake.
"Goodnight pirate." Even if he was justified in other things he was definitely still causing harm, whether he knew it or not. Nonetheless, Derek found himself oddly taken in with the pirate. He shook his head trying to rid himself of the amusement curling in his gut.
Derek could hear his mom moving down the stairs. He quickly went back inside to meet her in the back room.
"What took you so long? Were they in the garbage?"
He knew she would hear if he lied, and for some reason he didn't want to tell her about the pirate. "Don't worry mom. I cleaned up the filth out there."
"Good. Let's get to bed. It's late."
It wasn't until he was back settled in bed that he realized that Stiles probably was delivering his moonshine in that brown bag.
---
Derek yawned as he was lost in thought about the night before while wiping a glass. Why had Stiles been in his alley. Sure, he was probably delivering moonshine, but his alley specifically? The town was a maze of different back ways and turns. Not only did he burst into his bar, but to be outside his window? His mother always warned him about people hunting them. It always boggled Derek the amount of paranoia his parents and Laura had for being found. It wasn't just the guard they were weary of either. They wouldn't let anyone outside of the family watch Lily or Thomas, they never told people their real names, and they never allowed them to have friends get too close.
Derek had once. He had made friends with three people, kids really. They had nowhere to go and they were scared. Derek and his family took care of them, but as soon as his mother found out they were wanted by the Captain, Derek never saw them again. For a terrifying moment Derek had wondered if she turned them in to keep her family out of it.
Sometimes it was a lonely life, not being able to talk to anyone outside of his family. He loved them, but he wished that sometimes he could meet someone more than just once. The bar was filled with either people that he'd known since as long as he could remember or drifters that only stopped for a drink.
Then came Stiles.
Why did the first person he actually was able to have a conversation that didn't involve asking what someone wanted to drink, have to be with a filthy pirate?
He felt eyes on him and he looked up.
Laura had one eyebrow raised at him. "I don't think that glass is getting anymore dry. You've been on that one for like five minutes. Something wrong?"
Derek did not want to tell her about Stiles. "No." Fuck that was way too fast, and did his voice really go a bit high, ugh.
Laura looked gleeful. The damn shark looked like she smelled blood in the water. "Really?" Her voice was flat.
"Leave it."
"So there is something!"
Derek put down the glass. "Lauuuuuuraaaaa." He wished she would just go open the doors, so they could start working.
"Nope nope, you do not get to hide this from me. I'm your big sister and nothing ever happens in this town. Spill."
"It has nothing to do with you."
"Don't care. Do you want me to get Mom to as-"
Derek's eyes widened. "You wouldn't, you evil witch." Derek knew she absolutely would. "Fine." He had to remain vague. "I met someone."
Laura's mouth went open with a grin. "You met someone?" She unlocked the door for a group that was waiting.
Shit. By her tone he realized how fucked he was. He stayed vague alright, but by her tone she interpreted it way differently than he meant her to.
"Not like that!"
She looked downright smug. The bitch. "Sure. Not like that at all." She said it like it totally was like that.
"Don't go making a big deal about it."
"Are you kidding? You haven't met a person you haven't instantly hated. This is huge!"
Someone called for a barkeep. He contemplated telling her that he does actually hate them, but that would just open more questions. "I'm done talking about this." Derek walked away from her to help the patron.
"For now. I'll let you be, for now." That woman was evil, pure evil.
---
"You there! Stop! There's nowhere left to run!" The head crown's guard shouted at a panting Stiles heading straight towards the lookout point.
He laughed as he came to a stop where the cobblestone mounted upwards into a waist high fence. The crudely cemented together rocks arched out in an incomplete circle towards the sea, on the edge of a cliff. Stiles hopped up onto the ledge.
"Who said anything about running Captain Jackass?" Smirking, Stiles jumped off with a sloppy salute.
After the expected splash Jackson let out a sigh. "Every fucking time Stilinski."
A few moments later more guards rushed up behind him and swiveled their heads back and forth trying to catch sight of the pirate.
Stiles saw his laugh turn to air bubbles and then race each other to the surface in a wobbly game of chase. They broke the surface, but he kept swimming down.
What little air he had left he used to blow out a little bubble in front of him. He quickly reached out a hand and forced the bubble to stay down with the wave of his hand. He slowly opened his hand and splayed his fingers as far as he could. The air bubble rapidly expanded. Once it was big enough Stiles swam over to it and went inside. He took a deep gasping breath and let out a small chuckle.
"That will only get old once he figures out how I do it." Stiles looked over to a fish swimming by. "Which will be never."
With the flick of a wrist the bubble was moving and carting him along with it. It was moving at a leisurely pace till a big dark shape came into view.
"There she is."
As he came closer Stiles was able to make out the shape he had memorized by now.
Inside a bubble much like the one he was currently in, except much larger, was a ship. But not just any ship, the finest ship in, or on the seven seas. She far out shone any of the sunken ships that had ever graced the waves, because when she went down it was never for long. And any ship now would barely be out of port by the time good ol Claudia made it round the world two times flat. The finest ship and with a crew Stiles had mostly hand picked by the time he was fifteen. It had only taken five years to get Stiles from a sniffling kid just wanting his mom back, to first mate on the head ship of the most feared and respected pirate armada on the seas. It had only taken three more years after that before he convinced the Captain he could lead it before Stiles was Captain Stilinski the feared spark of the seas.
He was renowned for being fair, but ruthless. Many said that if it wasn't for his first mate the town of Schlongshire would be nothing but rubble and bodies not even worth burying. It was unusual for a human to be a pirate, but not unheard of. What was unheard of was a spark being one. When one could control countries and have given to them everything they could want simply for their allegiance, why would they go pillaging the seas for scraps. Sparks hardly came along twice in a century, they were powerful. And more often than not, destined for greater things than being a pirate. All the same, he lived a life true to himself and doing everything in his power to make the world better, while trying his damnedest to return to his family. Even if in his many years at sea he had learned to make a new one. One that ate oranges and threw each other overboard for a laugh. He helped supernaturals as much as he could, giving the homeless and hopeless with nowhere else to turn, a place to be accepted. To be cared for and a part of something.
It was no secret that most of his crew was strays he had picked up or saved from certain doom. He even protected quite a few from the grasp of the Argents and even the Captain.
His bubble met the much bigger one slightly above deck level and as they pressed into each other they combined and Stiles popped through. He fell down and landed on deck in a crouch steadying himself with on hand on the floor.
As if they hadn't seen his approach, his crew's eyes snapped to attention at the sound of his boots hitting the wood.
"Mornin Cap."
Stiles half bowed at the man carrying a barrel across the ship. "And an absolutely splendid mornin to you as well."
A man rushed up to him. "How did it go?" The man seemed nervous.
"Scotty, me matey, you worry too much."
Scott rolled his eyes. "You know you sound ridiculous when you speak like that."
"Arrr I do. And you know you love it."
Scott's face went serious. "How did it fare?"
Stiles' smile fell as he looked at him. "Where is she?"
Scott winced. "That bad? She's below deck, she didn't sleep well and has a headache. What happened?"
Stiles looked around to see if anyone was listening. Everyone seemed rather busy as soon as he looked. In fact as his eyes started sweeping the deck he clocked at least three people actually sweeping the deck which was odd because it was his turn to brush away the dirt. "Are you givin your Captain sauce?" Stiles hooked an arm around his neck and started walking them towards his quarters. "It went bloody brilliant as expected."
Once the door shut behind them Stiles let go of him. "How many times do I have to tell you, no talking in front of the crew. It's bad for morale."
"So it is bad news then?"
Stiles sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face as he tossed his hat onto his desk. "Duchess Evangeline hadn't heard or found anything and neither has Lord Emhyr." Stiles sat heavily down in his chair by his desk and Scott came closer. "If they're in either of their territories they're so well hidden that they'll never find them."
Scott crossed his arms as he leaned against the desk. "And you believe them? You think they're trustworthy?"
Stiles gave a considering look as he steepled his fingers. He nodded his head. "I do. With what we know about them they wouldn't dare lie to us. If there is any further information they would've passed it along. For all the Lady's talents, blackmail is one of her finest."
"And were you followed on your way back from your meeting with her?"
Stiles scoffed. "The Captain couldn't catch me if I had two hands tied behind my back, and I would know-"
Scott rolled his eyes and spoke instep with Stiles.
"I've gotten away shackled."
"- I've gotten away shackled." Stiles stuck out his tongue. "Make fun all you'd like, that was badass."
Stiles stared at him until one side of his jaw moved and his lip curled up. "Okay, that was pretty badass."
Stiles smiled. "Okay, I'm all good here. I'll be heading to bed shortly, I woke up so early it was late, you should go check on her."
Scott's expression changed. "You going to bed shortly translates to me walking in on you in the morning still up, drunk bent over the charts."
Stiles' wide smile dropped. "I'll be fine. You head to bed, you woke early as well."
Scott didn't move. "You may not want to worry the crew, but I'm not just crew. I'm your firstmate. You're my brother." Scott looked at him with his puppy eyes.
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Alright you can stop that now. I'm worried Scotty, of course I am. If we don't find them in time-"
"We will find them in time." Scott went over to the couch and sat down.
Stiles gave him a flat look. "Your eternal optimism is not welcome here."
"Okay fine. Say we don't, it will still be fine. We have a backup plan." Scott motioned him to come sit.
Stiles gave him a dubious look. "You and I both know she won't be able to kill her father, not when he hasn't done anything to deserve it." Stiles poured two glasses of rum and walked over to sit down.
Scott took a glass. "So we'll find a way around it. Stiles I know us, I know you. You've always thought of something, you always figure any problem we have out."
Stiles ran a hand through his hair. "That's just it Scotty, this isn't just some problem. This is the problem, the biggest problem. And if this doesn't go right then we're most likely dead."
Scott put a commiserating hand on his arm. "Yeah. That would suck for us."
"It would so suck."
Stiles drained his glass and set it on the floor. "Alright, open up. I need puppy cuddles."
Scott opened his arms and wedged a leg along the back of the couch and draped the other down the side of the couch. Stiles crawled into his arms and leaned his back against Scott's front.
"Scott you're the best friend ever."
Scott wrapped his arms around Stiles and breathed in his best friend that always smelled like spicy soap, seawater, and something crackling. It took him awhile to realize, but he knew now that was the scent of Stiles' rage. Ever present, even now, content to be wrapped up safe with the person he relied on most. "We are going to be okay. Stiles, I need you to realize that. We will figure it out and we will be behind you every step of the way. This crew, they would die for you. We're a family Stiles. You did that, you built us. You saved us. You aren't just my best friend or the best Captain, you're the best person I've ever known."
With his words Scott swore he could hear the thunder receding. "I just don't want to let everyone down. Everyone is all in on this one. And no matter what everyone says, even if it is their choice, if this goes belly up, it's on me."
"Yeah it is. It's on ye, it's on me, it's on everyone involved. But that won't stop you will it?"
Stiles sighed and leaned his head back into the curve of Scott's neck. "No, it won't."
"So we're in this together?"
"Aye. We always are. Always have been."
There was a pause of silence as they just relaxed.
"Why can't we be nine again, running around and stealing jelly tarts when our moms weren't looking?"
Scott slapped Stiles' stomach. "Excuse ye! I never stole jelly tarts! You never told me they were stolen! I still can't believe ye roped me into that one. It's been nine years and I still can't believe that!"
Stiles laughed. "But you ate them, you were a part of it!" He chuckled and then his scent went sour. "Maybe I was always meant to be a filthy pirate stealing things and hurting people."
"Hey what did we say about listening to the shit Jackson says?" Scott said it jokingly expecting a light-hearted response. Usually Stiles didn't take those sorts of things to heart.
He was serious as he replied, "It wasn't Jackson."
Scott set his drink down. "What? Who was it?"
Stiles stared blankly up at the ceiling. "Just some man, a barkeep. From yesterday."
"Don't let those speciest, Gerard lovers get to ye. He's a pig for-"
"No. He wasn't. He was an honest man, kind to his brother. I think he was a good man, a truly good one. He just- when he looked at me I could see just, this hatred. He hated pirates, he hated me even after I told him I didn't steal from the local fishermen. I felt like he truly hated me the second he looked at me. It was strange. I've never felt anything like it. You're going to think I'm mad but-"
"I already know you are mad."
Stiles elbowed him. "His eyes. I feel like I recognized them. And I just strangely wanted to get him to understand that I was not his enemy. I wanted him to think I was good too."
"Oh by thunder, that's your Lady Lydia voice! Have ye planned your wedding yet?"
"Shut up. I don't know he just felt... Important. I shouldn't even be thinking about this. It doesn't matter. I'll never see him again."
Stiles was still staring at the ceiling without moving.
"But ye want to?"
"It doesn't matt-"
"Do y-"
"Yes!" He turned and laid on his stomach. "I want his eyes to look at my eyes. And for him to not have so much hate in them. Is that so much to ask for?"
Scott smiled. "I think you deserve to be happy, but you pick impossible ways of getting there. But if you think he could be good for ye, go for it."
"It's not even that Scotty, I just feel in my bones I need to see him again. It's not like that at all. "
"Like your spark says so? Okay. Then do that."
"Don't be daft."
"I'm not."
"I can't be distracted right now."
"Oh, he's distracting is he?"
Stiles turned his head and smiled. "He's hotter than Lady Lydia."
Scott grabbed the couch like they were sailing stormy seas that were tossing the ship about. "Hotter than Lady Lydia!"
Stiles pressed a finger to his lips. "Shhhh she'll hear you!"
"We're under the ocean and she's miles away in her castle."
"She has tea with Davey Jones, they gossip."
Scott laughed at his friend which was interrupted by a knock and some one barging in followed by the door slamming. "Is the Cap- Ugh gross your weird incesto make out session is not something I wanted to see today."
"Cora, how many times do I have to tell ye. Knock, wait, then come in!"
Cora rolled her eyes. "I just came in to ask if the Cap-"
There was another knock and the door once again slammed open. "Is the Captain coming out to tell us what happened?"
Stiles pressed his face into Scott's chest and banged it against it. "Ma-li-aaaaa! Knock! Wait! Come in! I swear I will hang a sign."
"She can't read remember?"
Malia snarled at Cora.
"What? You can't."
"That's rude Cora! Malia put the claws away there will be no murdering of crewmates today." He turned to Scott. "I swear by the stars I thought I was their Captain not their mother."
They laughed as they stood up to stretch.
"Captain will give a quick talk, eat something, then get some sleep."
"What would I do without you Scotty."
"Set ye ship on fire."
"That was one time!"
"Do you know how many times it takes a ship to burn down? Once. And it happened again too!"
"That time doesn't count because technically it was the monkey and you know it!"
---
FOUR MONTHS AGO
Derek had tried to push it away to not focus on it, he even nearly forgot. But as the days went by he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was about to burst through the bar doors. It had been over a month since he had seen the pirate and he didn't know if he was expecting him to have sent the crown's guard or if the pirate would burst through the doors again. One sent dread and the other excitement and he didn't know how to feel about that, hell he'd deny feeling anything but contempt for the pirate. Each day Derek became more resigned to never seeing him again, but one night when the sound of rustling in the alley woke him up he sprung out of bed.
"I'll get it mom!" He called out a little too loudly for the late hour as he rushed down the steps.
"Don't wake the whole house!" That was Laura's voice not his mom's.
"Go back to sleep you wench."
He could tell she was raising a middle finger to his back without even turning.
He threw open the door and for a disappointing second didn't see anything. Slowly out of a shadow a figure emerged.
"What are you doing here pirate?"
That damn lazy smirk. "I thought you might miss me by now."
Damn him. "Like shit on a shoe."
The pirate laughed and Derek found himself smiling. The sticky sweat and fever of having too heavy of a blanket on in the tropic heat still clung to the back of his neck, but the warmth felt a little less scorching with the night air tickling his skin.
"Do you often have looters?"
Derek was confused by the question. "What?"
"Well, I was just wondering what would prompt you to so eagerly bolt out of bed in such a state."
Derek looked down at his bare torso and thin sleeping pants. He crossed his arms with a scowl, but quickly used one hand to try and smooth down his bed head.
Stiles looked up and pulled his bottom lip into his mouth while the corners tilted up.
"That made it w-"
"Worse. So much worse." The words flooded out of him with joy.
Derek's cheeks heated as he looked away.
Stiles came closer and lifted a hand. Derek flinched.
"How many times do I have to tell you, I won't hurt you."
He had never seen his eyes this close before and he knew he'd never pour another glass of whiskey again without thinking about how honest he looked right now. How truthful, how right.
He moved his hands up again and carded his hands through his hair to smooth it out.
"There." He smiled at Derek and he swallowed harshly. "Now, I can't do anything about the pants... Well, I cou-"
Derek met his raised eyebrow with a pair of flat ones. "No, thank you."
"Hm, are you that polite in the bedroom too?"
Derek was so caught of guard he scoffed as his cheeks flamed. "Must you be so shameless?"
"Yup. Otherwise I lose a bet that I couldn't live my whole life being the most shameless person to ever walk the earth. And unfortunately I put my ship as collateral, so I must keep to it."
At the mention of his ship Derek's eyes hardened again. "Well, it's rude and off putting."
"If you'd rather I could be putting out."
"I'd rather you leave my alley."
The step forward the pirate took was dangerous and Derek suddenly couldn't remember how to breathe. He was close before, but now he could see that it was exactly three thirty-five on a good sea faring day, the kind of day filled with just the perfect amount of sunshine filtering through windows that if he swirled a glass of whiskey it would be the closest anything could ever get to his eyes without a touch of magic. They were hypnotic and he wondered if maybe the pirate had been blessed by a seawitch. A blessing that any hate ever felt towards him would turn to butterflies.
"Would you though? Would you rather that I leave? Because I can."
Stiles went to take a step back and immediately Derek's mouth fell open. The pirate smirked at him and his rage came back at being tricked and toyed with. "Why are you here in my alley, pirate?" Derek caught sight of the bag over his shoulder and quickly dug in it and snatched out a bottle.
Stiles scrambled to get it back. "Hey, that's mine!" As he reached for it Derek held it up. Even though they were the same height, Derek grew up with multiple siblings and knew how to play keep away. As Stiles' limbs flailed in their pursuit he whined. "With all the shit you gave me about stealing, and here you are taking my things!"
Derek knew he had a right to what he said, but the anger was still there. He pushed Stiles backwards and looked right into his eyes as he sent the bottle crashing to the ground.
It shattered with an awful noise and liquor splashed everywhere. As the pieces scattered Stiles' eyes widened. "What the hell! Dude, that is so not cool!" His eyes were still downcast at the shards that now laid all over. As soon as he looked up he took a step back.
There was malice in his eyes clear as day.
"Leave pirate. And don't come back."
This time Stiles believed him. He scrambled backwards and as he took off into the night Derek heard something like he's not worth it. He felt that mutter as if Stiles had picked up a shard and slashed across his chest with it.
This entire time he's been rejecting the pirate. He's been belittling him, thinking he's heartless. A thief. A criminal. But to hear that he doesn't think Derek was worth it hurt more than he would've thought. Worth what? The time he took to talk to him? The effort to annoy him? The air he breathes? The space he takes up? The family that he has? Not worth what? Anything? It was so vague Derek's mind took it and ran. He imagined he meant all of them. Maybe that's why it hurt so bad, it was like multiple insults at once.
Just like that, as soon as he could no longer hear the pirate absconding in the night, Derek felt the familiar heat at the back of his throat. His anger and returned and decided he wanted nothing to do with the filthy pirate anymore.
Derek fell into bed still hot with anger and tossed his blanket to the floor. Derek laid there stewing till he thought about how his anger was justified. The pirate insulted him, even if he had done something offensive first. The pirate was a rotten no good liar. He didn't know shit about Derek. A self satisfied smirk found its way to his lips. He was glad he had vented like that now. It was good to get it out, because he deserved it.
With a yawn he decided to sleep and dream only of the pirate's ship sailing far away.
Thomas was asleep in his bed, but even from across the room he felt the comfort his brother brought him. He listened to his heartbeat and drifted off.
---
He was aware of the sunlight filtering into the room before he opened his eyes. He heard heartbeats from all the rooms and instinctively felt the safety of having his pack asleep around him. His eyes opened in soft little flicks of his lashes. He felt the peace of the morning and smiled. He hadn't slept like that in ages.
While getting dressed he debated taking a quick run. He woke up early and feeling rested, but he knew the day would tire him out quickly. It was better to just get to work. By the time Laura came down he had already set up all the tables, made breakfast for everyone, and gotten the bar ready for the day.
"Ugh, I nearly forgot you're a disgusting morning person. Seriously Der, it's been so long I was getting used to you rolling out of bed right before mom was about to lose her shit and go into your room to tackle you."
He let a small smile grace his face.
Her face still had a mark where she had laid on her pillow, but to Derek she was the most intimidating person he had ever met when she had that look on her face. She raised an eyebrow. "Why are you so glee ridden today?"
"I just slept well."
She became further intrigued. "And why did you sleep well?"
Derek needed to distract her with something and quickly. "I don't know. Hey, I made fresh bread for breakfast."
She squinted at him. "You're distracting me."
Oh shit, oh shit. It was the worst when she knew she was being distracted. She would be relentless now.
Her face turned sad. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me. It's just I miss how we used to be. We were so close. You used to tell me everything. I guess I just wanted to feel like your big sister again."
Derek felt the back of his throat getting thick. Damn her. This is how she wanted to play it, fine. He was ready to tell her to stop guilting him, but then he caught her eyes and he saw the sparkle of sincerity. Derek knew he had been pulling away from them, but he didn't think they'd notice. The guilt of it wore him down and he leaned against the counter with a huff.
He saw the satisfaction in her face, but she leaned against the bar as well to show how ready she was to listen.
His sister knew him, so when he sat in silence she didn't push.
Why had he slept so good? Why did he feel so content? The foreground of his mind wanted to shout that it was because he had sent the pirate off, but even if it was the loudest voice it wasn't the only one. With how calm he was he knew, deep down, that Stiles wasn't the only pirate responsible. He was just the only one Derek could hold responsible. Hell, it wasn't even just all the pirates' fault. It was the taxes to fund an unnecessary war. It was the war killing people's spirits. It was the Argents for creating the war. It was so many things, but Stiles was all he could focus on because it was easier to scream at one person than accept there's a flawed system in place that he can't fix. He knew rationally he didn't really want Stiles gone, so why was he happy that he was?
Or maybe it wasn't that Stiles was gone that made him happy.
Maybe it was that he was there at all.
Derek tried to find a reason for it to not be true, but he couldn't.
But then if he was happy that Stiles was there, why was he still happy once he was gone? It didn't make any sense. He felt confused and wrong footed.
Why was he so happy? Why was he so content? Why was h-
Derek's head lifted up from where he had been staring at the ground with a shock.
Why wasn't he angry?
That was the real question. He hadn't even noticed, but he didn't feel the heat at his back chasing him. He didn't feel the burning inside. For the first time in a long time he had awoken without the rage.
Maybe he wasn't happy that the pirate was there. Maybe he was just not angry once he had left. Maybe letting it out helped him in a way he hadn't been helped in a long time. It still made him feel bad. Especially remembering the way he looked at him once he told him to leave, but still. That hole where his anger was, was so much lighter to carry now. Even if there was an emptiness that came with how he got it.
He knew it wouldn't last, but today he was genuinely happy. He couldn't help wanting to see the pirate everyday if this is how he felt afterwards. Even if that was selfish.
Laura made a noise that let him know she was getting impatient.
Even if he didn't understand it, he knew he had to try to explain.
"That person I met." He could tell she got excited. "We had a fight. I yelled at him and I don't think I'll ever see him again and it makes me happy."
He could sense the confusion.
"I told you it wasn't like that Laur. But it's not really that I enjoy that he's gone either, at least I think not. I just- I always have this anger in me. It just hurts so much, and when I yelled at him it made it not hurt so much. I know it was shitty of me, but I-I just..."
"You just want it to stop hurting." Her eyes were teary and Derek could feel his getting glossy as well.
"I don't know why. I don't know why I feel this anger. God Laura, it doesn't make any sense. It's just there constantly, and it feels like I'm on fire."
At that Laura let out a choked sob.
"I'm sorry Laura. I'm so sorry I don't know why I'm like this."
She moved quickly towards him and pulled him into a hug. "Do not, ever, tell me you're sorry for how you feel. You hear me? You only have to apologize for how you act with those emotions."
Derek gripped onto the back of her shirt for a few more moments, grateful to feel the comfort of his big sister again.
When they broke apart Laura looked questioningly into his eyes. "Do you think this happiness will wear off once you realize, truly realize, that you'll never see him again? You'll never get to apologize. Don't you think you'll feel bad for what you said to him?"
Derek shrugged. "I guess I'll find out."
While they had breakfast Derek smiled at jokes and gave an extra slice of bread to Lily and they looked at him with approval. He hadn't realized how long it had been since he had interacted with his family normally. He enjoyed the day and he fell into sleep with a blissful sigh.
---
When he woke up the anger wasn't back all the way. It was just like there was a match, a tiny insignificant match. He could deal with a match.
By the end of the week the match had grown to a campfire and the hole inside him had gotten deeper.
By two more weeks the fire had consumed him and there was smoke biting at his lungs like he had never felt before. The hole inside him was a cavern that he didn't know how to crawl out of. Over the last few days he'd been getting concerned looks from the family he couldn't stop pushing away and snapping at. He didn't know how much longer he could take it.
---
THREE MONTHS AGO
It had been over a month since he had seen the pirate when Laura got the idea to try and provoke him. To try and get his anger out on her. No matter what she tried he wouldn't react.
She was particularly determined when she awoke him by smacking him.
It was a long day and he was just tired. Tired of everything. At the dinner table she made one final jab.
"What's even the purpose of you getting up at all if you're going to be so late?"
His mother was about to admonish her when he spoke.
"I don't know what the purpose of it is either."
He didn't know whether it was what he said or the way he said it, but everyone stopped. His father's cutlery clanked onto his plate and he sent unsure glances to his wife.
His mother pushed her chair away from the table and went to his side. She kissed his forehead and spoke. "There is always a reason to get up in the mornings."
He mustered a smile he didn't feel. "Right." He excused himself and headed to bed.
He heard the door open and close, then Thomas getting changed. They both laid down in silence till Thomas' voice came out sure. "Tell me a story Derek."
He looked to where his brother was. "Sorry bud. I don't think my stories would be any good tonight."
"A story doesn't have to be good to be worth hearing. Sometimes it just has to be what someone needs to hear, or even what someone needs to tell."
"Tommy?"
"Yeah Derek?"
"You really freak me out when you say stuff like that."
They both gently laughed into the darkness.
"You're eight. You shouldn't know the secret to life."
"Okay, then I won't. Tell me a story."
Derek settled into his bed more and turned to stare at the ceiling.
"I suppose you want one about pirates." Thomas loved his stories about pirates, and after meeting one Derek knew that would be the only thing he'd like to hear. He'd been able to avoid it after his fight so far. Thomas seemed to sense he didn't want to talk about them, but it seemed he'd have to finally cave tonight.
"It doesn't have to be about pirates." He could hear the, 'But I really want it to be.' in the tone of his voice.
"Just a short one, okay? I have to haul the brews tomorrow."
"Fine."
Thomas listened, completely enthralled, while Derek told a story about a boy cursed by a witch to breath fire. Thomas could feel the heat in his own neck as Derek described the boy choking on cinders. The rage bubbling in the boys chest felt oddly familiar, but Thomas knew it wasn't his own.
He spoke of ash clogging lungs and Thomas felt like coughing. Derek explained how every time the boy felt deeply, the fire poured out of him. Everything about what he was saying lit him up. He wanted to scratch at scabs that weren't even there. Thomas was scared of the darkness surrounding him, but it had nothing to do with how the dim room reminded him of smoke. What scared him was how it seemed to be coming out of Derek as he spoke, in great big puffs that snuffed out the light.
Thomas was about to try and move the story away from the flames by asking where the pirates were when Derek's tone changed all by itself.
He started describing the cool waves and the crisp scent of the sea that clung to an annoying pirate. The pirate pestered the boy till he lead him through the town. The boy showed him around and brought him to his favorite apple tree. They shared apples as they talked. The pirate made the boy laugh and as he did flames bubbled up and burned the pirate. The boy ran away as the pirate called after him. Derek told about the guilt the boy felt from burning the pirate, but he was happy because it had been so long since he had laughed like that. The boy sat on a rock over looking the harbor and watched ships leaving wondering if the pirate had left yet.
Derek had stopped talking and it took Thomas a bit to realize that was where he was leaving it. "That's the end?"
Derek sounded confused. "Yes? Of course it's the end, why wouldn't it be?"
Thomas sat up in his bed. "Because! You didn't deal with the witch, or explain why she had done it. You didn't let the boy let go of his anger. You didn't let the pirate know what was happening and why he got hurt. He deserves to know why! You didn't have them fall in love. They didn't even meet again!"
Derek's cheeks heated as he clung to one particular sentence. "Fall in love?"
"Yes! They were meant to fall in love right? The pirate made him laugh. The boy brought him to his favorite apple tree!"
"He hurt him. Why would he come back?"
"Because! Just because butthead! You can't stop the story there! You just can't." Thomas was emphatic about it.
"What happened to a story doesn't have to be a good one? Huh?" Derek raised an eyebrow at his brother who he knew couldn't see it.
"A story doesn't have to be good, but it does have to be completed. That's not the end. It just can't be."
Derek took a deep breath and Thomas could tell he was about to tell him to go to sleep.
"I'm going to finish it."
Derek's mouth dropped open. "How dare you! I told you it wouldn't be good. You wound me, deeply. I'll never recover. You don't like your big bros stories anymore, you have to rewrite the ending."
Thomas rolled his eyes. " I'm not rewriting anything you baby. Now listen."
Thomas talked about their reunion and how the pirate wasn't mad the fire burned him. He had a magical potion from the kraken that healed it, so it didn't even hurt. It did leave a cool shimmery scar that the pirate showed the boy because he thought it was cool.
Derek chuckled at that.
The boy told him he was frightened about how the pirate would react to his abilities. How everyone had shunned him, but the pirate didn't care. They became friends and the pirate asked him to sail away with him. He refused because he didn't want to burn the pirate's ship. But the pirate came up with a plan. He took him to a cove on the other side of the island and within they met sirens.
The sirens blessed the boy with their gifts. From then on whenever the boy would feel the fire inch up his throat all he had to do was sing and the salty waves would flow from his lungs out his lips to vanquish the flames.
To thank the pirate he promised to sing for him, but the pirate refused him. He told him to only sing for him if he would stay with him to sing aboard his ship everyday.
The boy said he would, and so he also became a pirate. They sailed the seas and lived happily ever after.
"And that's how the story is supposed to end!" Thomas' voice sounded snooty.
"Why would the boy become a pirate? And how could he leave his home? Also the pirate just forgives him? And you didn't even talk about the witch!" Derek replied snottily.
"Because he wanted to leave, everyone didn't like him."
"Still, why would he become a pirate?"
"Because that's what his friend was. He wanted to be like him, so he wasn't alone." Thomas explained.
"Still, he could've gone without becoming a pirate." Derek refuted.
"It's just a story Derek, why does it matter so much?" He seemed like he already knew the answer.
Derek felt gobsmacked. "You're the one that wouldn't let me end it! You made up an ending!"
"But you're the one trying to change what the characters did. They're just characters. What they do doesn't impact anything. It's not like they're real."
Derek was about to argue again when their door opened.
"Boys! You're supposed to be asleep. Go to bed!"
"Sorry Mom."
"Sorry Mom."
After a scolding look, she closed the door and they settled into bed.
"Goodnight love you." Thomas turned over.
He was done talking. Apparently, he had said what he was going to.
"Goodnight Tommy. I love you too."
Derek said goodnight even though he wanted to question him on what he meant. Thomas always seemed like he cared what the characters did. He always complained when Derek was too mean to one character or if one did something that didn't seem like them. Why did he say that what they did didn't matter?
He hadn't said that though, had he? He had said what they do doesn't impact anything.
The boy burning the pirate didn't impact anything. It wasn't like they were real.
Derek got a flash of hurt eyes and a speedy exit. It wasn't like they were real.
They weren't real.
But why did Derek have this pulling in his chest when he thought of the pirate in pain as the boy ran away?
He heard his brother's voice echoing. It wasn't like they were real.
Derek huffed and whispered to his brother's soft snores. "God damn you, you witch child."
What they did didn't impact anything, but Derek was real. His pirate was real. And he had hurt him.
Laura's words came back to him and he supposed he finally did feel awful for yelling.
He fell asleep cursing his siblings.
---
He had a fitful night of sleep and woke up already exhausted. The day drug on, and by the time he was on his last trip from the distillery he was beyond tired.
He was thankfully going down the last hill before he reached the bar. He debated taking a break, but decided to just get it over with.
He didn't see the uneven cobblestone till it was too late.
Fuck.
He managed to keep a hold on one of the barrels, but the other went sailing down the hill.
Derek watched it go with a detached sort of disappointment.
Fuck his life.
About half way down the hill a figure emerged from an alley. They were cloaked in shadow. The figure swiftly moved in front of the barrel while speaking, "What would you do without me?"
Just as they finished talking the barrel reached right in front of them. As it came close they brushed their coat behind them and lifted up one boot to stop the barrel. Their hat had a ridiculous feather standing up proudly as they stood with their arms akimbo.
For one shining moment they looked quite heroic. But the momentum from the hill, and then quickly being stopped must've sloshed the liquid inside. The second wave of force was unexpected. And just as the figure tipped their hat to look up, Derek caught a glimpse of a wide, brown eyed, mole dotted face.
Stiles' perched boot slipped in front of the barrel which, without anything stopping it, rolled into his other leg. Just like that Stiles went face first into the cobblestone, barely catching any of his weight with his arms.
"Roaloorororloriiiiiiikeeerkrlo." The barrel continued down the hill unbidden.
Stiles flipped over with a muttered, "Fuck." He lifted onto his elbows to see the barrel. After it had trampled some bushes, it rolled over a felled branch like a ramp. It was about to fly off the cliff's edge.
Stiles lifted a hand. It was Derek's turn to go wide eyed.
A soft yellow light flowed around his hand like currents. That same light wrapped itself around the barrel and caught it midair. Derek looked at Stiles only to see the same light emanating from his eyes. Derek nearly dropped the other barrel with shock.
With a wave of his hand the barrel was coming closer and obediently sat softly onto the ground next to him.
"Damn. I woulda looked so swashbuckling if that would've worked." Stiles picked up his hat.
"You have magic!" Derek was quickly moving closer, now wide awake.
"Yes? Didn't you know?" Stiles replied nonchalantly as he got off the floor.
His eyebrows went flat from where they were embedded in his hairline. "I wouldn't have asked if I knew." Derek stopped still a few paces away.
"Well sooorry. I figured the glowy hands-" He wiggled his fingers. "And barrel freezing midair were a big enough clue in, but yes I'm a spark."
He filed away the knowledge of what Stiles was, it was very shocking and he didn't know what to do with that. Derek laughed while he shook his head. "Are you always this much of a jackass?"
Stiles didn't miss a beat. "Only on Tuesdays and Thursdays." He brushed non-existent dirt off his shoulders.
Derek's eyebrows furrowed. "Today is Sunday?"
Stiles seemed thoughtful. "Huh. Well, then I guess Sundays too." He seemed to dwell on the thought for a moment longer before snapping out of it. "Anyway, you have your barrel and my pride has been brutally ripped from me once again. I do believe that brings our affairs to a close." Stiles clasped his hands behind his back, waiting for him to leave.
He didn't budge.
"So if you'll excu-"
"Wait." Derek set down the barrel.
There was a pause as they both waited for Derek to say something.
"About last time-"
"What about last time?" He seemed like a shark.
"Well, I just wanted to say- I wanted to say I was wr-"
"Captain Stiles!"
Derek startled as a portly old man came running out of another alley.
"You weren't at the agreed spot?" He looked out of breath and confused. Derek recognized him as Mr. Bramington. He came into the bar a couple nights a week, but hadn't been in a few weeks.
Stiles had a plastered on smile. "My apologies friend. I believe I'm done here anyway. Good to see you again." He gave a curt nod that Derek knew meant it was not.
"Well, should we get on with our business Captain?" He gave Derek a distrustful glance. "To the meeting spot?"
"Why yes, of course." As Stiles stretched out an arm to usher the man forth, he caught sight of that damn bag.
"Mr. Bramington, how have you been?" Derek said before they could leave.
He squinted in the low light, till recognition filled his features. "Why Derek! I've been well. How've you been, my boy?"
"Good. Have you truly been well? What about Martha and the boys?"
He seemed confused till Derek mentioned the boys, then his face lit up. "Yes I have. Martha as well. But that's not what you want to know is it, you scamp." He gave him a fond knowing look. "You're asking after Jacob, aren't you? He talks about you constantly. He truly will be overjoyed to hear I ran into you. You must meet up. You've only seen each other, what twice? That cannot stand. Oh and your little brother could come along to play with my Fletcher." His eyes looked dreamy. "Just think of it, two of my boys, marring two of Jadwiga's boys."
Stiles' jaw dropped and he looked at Derek squinting, before he shook it off.
"You know, your mother caused quite the stir when you all moved here. No matter how humble she tried to be her beauty nearly broke quite a many marriages. But I have always thought higher. Admitted, I did think it would be my oldest and Laura that got together, but fate always finds a way."
Stiles and Derek shared sideways glances. Derek mouthed something that seemed like make him stop.
"I think it's actually qui-"
"Shall we continue to our business?"
His gaping mouth closed with a shake. "Why yes. Yes, of course."
Derek raised a hand. "Actually I was wondering, because I haven't seen you at the bar in awhile. And now you're taking up with this sort of... Company."
Stiles narrowed his eyes.
The man seemed to fumble his works. "Right well, you see. Well, times are tough. You understand my boy, right? Do tell your mother I am sorry, but with the war, you understand. Even for my son's future in-laws it's hard to manage." The man worried at his overcoat. "Well you do u-"
"Understand. Right." Derek's words were clipped as he stared at the pirate.
The pirate slung an arm over Mr. Bramington's shoulders with a smirk. "Now that that's sorted, shall we? I do appreciate," The pirate looked directly at Derek. "That I'm the one getting your business."
Derek could feel his blood boil. Let the competition begin. "Not so fast." He plastered on a fake grin. "I don't want to lose such valued customer, especially one with such deep familial ties. So what do you say, half priced drinks tomorrow?"
Mr. Bramington's eyes gleamed.
"Now now. I think he's developed quite the taste for moonshine, there's no going back once you've tasted our quality."
Derek scoffed. "That pisswater? My sister does all of our brewing. She carefully makes every batch. You'd be lucky not to be actually drinking piss with him. And half priced is one hell of a deal."
Derek would've sworn there was a flash of light in his eyes before he fired back. "Half off is one hell of a deal... What about buy one bottle get the second free? And I personally assure you my first mate stopped pissing in the bottles months back." He gave Mr. Bramington a hearty back slap and tossed a wink at Derek.
Mr. Bramington let out a laugh at the pirate's joke. "Well, that does sound good. I'll-"
Derek felt bad for what he was about to do, but he couldn't help it. The smug way the pirate was looking at him was infuriating. "First round on us, anything you'd like. Then half off. And I would love it if you would bring Jacob with you. It has been so long since I've seen him."
The man nearly started to shake with glee. He ran over to hug Derek, and he lifted him slightly. "Deal my boy! Oh, he'll be so excited! We'll see you four sharp. Right after work. I can't wait to tell Martha! She'll have to hurry up and finish her dress for the wedding!"
They watched as the man sped off.
Stiles turned to Derek with disbelieving eyes. "As in, she's already started the dress?"
They both burst out laughing at the same time.
Once their laughter subsided, Stiles turned to him with a smile. "So I take it you're not actually in a starcrossed love affair with his son, as he seems to think?"
Derek raised an eyebrow then his face went flat. "Why would you even have to ask? We're desperately in love. Don't tell anyone though."
"Ah his parents don't know?" The pirate put on a face of faux sympathy.
"It would break them if they found out." Derek was still speaking deadpan. He moved closer to the barrel Stiles caught.
Stiles laughed once again. "My lips are sealed. That was quite heartless though. To mess with that poor man and his son just for some rivalry with a handsome pirate."
Derek felt a stab of guilt again, something he was getting quite used to feeling. "I would feel worse if his son wasn't so insistent. The only time we spoke he mentioned that his father could acquire five pigs for my hand."
"That's ludicrous!"
Derek smiled. "I kno-"
"You're worth at least twenty. And maybe a horse."
He was taken aback as his cheeks flamed.
"And don't think I've forgotten that you didn't dispute that I'm handsome." He tossed another wink and Derek wondered how he could ever be so carelessly charming.
"I- wh- no."
"To what? No to what? The pigs? Or my devilish good looks? Maybe you object about the horse and I see where you're coming from. Your personality leaves a bit to be desired, so maybe a compromise. Twenty pigs and then an ass included into the deal."
Derek drew his eyebrows together in confusion. "Why would they give my family you?"
Stiles' face looked shocked, but still amused. "So you do have jokes hidden away in those eyebrows."
Derek let the corners of his mouth lift. "Yeah, I guess I do."
"Well bravo. That one was good. Got any other ones?"
Derek felt the lightness in his chest, but it wasn't filled with heat either. Right now it felt like he was a down pillow. He wanted to float on the cool night air forever. "Maybe. If you stick around."
He looked caught off guard. "Hm, well is this your alley?"
It was Derek's turn to not expect what the other said. "I'm sorry?"
There was a defensive edge to his eyes now. "It's just every time I find myself in your company you tell me to get out of your alley. So is this your alley?"
Derek considered. He tried to pull up all of the anger he felt with their little rivalry, but he just felt light. "No. This is just a street. An empty street, late at night. Anyone can meet anyone here."
"Even a pirate?"
He thought back to Thomas and Laura. "Yes. Even a pirate."
He nodded and seemed to accept it, but the defensive nature was still there. "So tonight I'm just Stiles and you're just..."
"Mig-"
"I seriously am not calling you Miguel. There is no way that is your name. How bout a nickname?"
His response was immediate. "No."
"Eyebrows? Cranky pants? Barkeep?"
Derek didn't like the idea of him calling him any of those things, but barkeep was especially grating. It was like that's all they were. Just barkeep and customer. They weren't even acquaintances yet, but they weren't just that. Well Derek didn't know what they were, he wasn't even sure he didn't actually hate him. Maybe they were rivals. Rivals that were occasionally friendly, but rivals all the same. That sounded right.
"Do not call me any of those."
"Well what do you suggest sourwolf? Hey tha-"
Derek instantly was alarmed. "Would you shut up! We are in the street!"
It took a beat but he realized his mistake. "Yes, in the empty street. At one in the morning!"
Derek still looked upset. "Still!"
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Oh, for the love of the bloody sea! Fine!" His eyes started to swirl with black and the inky color smoked out of his eyes in wisps. That same dark black weaved around his fingers and gradually faded to a smoke all around them.
Derek took two steps back in alarm.
The smoke quickly dissipated and his eyes went back to whiskey brown. "There. Now no one can hear us. Happy, sparky?"
Derek raised an eyebrow. "I find that interesting that you picked that, considering you're the spark."
Stiles opened his mouth then shut it. "You have me there, spot."
"I will rip your throat out. With my teeth." Derek sounded sincere.
A jolt of excitement raced up Stiles' spine. "I've never been one to shy away because of a threat. Especially not one as alluring as that." Stiles smirked.
Derek floundered. "I didn't- That's not what I meant."
"Sure it wasn't sourwolf. Then, how exactly did you mean it?"
Stiles took a step forward and had an evil glint in his eye. Derek found himself taking a small step back. He hit the barrel behind him and Stiles followed till he was close.
"How did you mean it big bad? Did you mean you would slam into me? Press me against a wall? Would you flash your eyes at me to let me know who was in control? Would you growl? I bet your claws would be out. Would you be careful with them? Or would you scratch me all up? Would you leave bruises from where you held me down? Would my wrists wear your mark like manacles from when you pressed them above my head? I bet you could do it with one hand, that you would."
Derek swallowed harshly.
"Would you make me beg you? Would I be able to see the hint of fang peeking from your lips as you smiled? Would you tip my head up as I pleaded?"
Stiles slightly lifted Derek's chin to tease him. He leaned his head forward. "Would I feel your breath against my neck?" He puffed out a breath and Derek let out a noise halfway between a pant and a whine.
"Stiles I-"
He interrupted him. "Is that how you'd do it? Would you do all that and then between one exhalation." Another tickle of warm breath. "And the next, you'd use your teeth to rip. Out. My. Throat. Is that how you'd do it big bad?" Stiles leaned back to look into his blown eyes and moved far enough back so Derek could move away from the barrel.
"No." Derek's voice came out shaky and his mouth was dry.
Stiles made a contemplating noise. "Hm? Well then, how would you?"
Derek knew this was the moment he took back the power. The moment he shoved Stiles into submission, but remembering how his eyes glowed just moments before he held that back. "I wouldn't be able to do any of that. The moment I moved towards you, you would use your magic to restrain me."
Stiles nodded and seemed to be surprised by the knowledge he saved for later. "Okay. Good to know. Well, I already knew, good to know you know, who's in charge here."
Derek was glad to be on some what more solid footing now. "Oh no, that's not what I said at all." He let out a low growl and leaned forward as his fangs peeked from behind his lips.
He heard Stiles' heartbeat jump.
"Agree to disagree, sourwolf."
"Keep telling yourself that."
Stiles smiled so wide his eyes closed. "I will. Thanks."
"You're impossible."
"Oh come on, you wouldn't like me if I was easy. An easy friend couldn't hold your attention."
Derek furrowed his eyebrows and counted the moles on Stiles' face as he realized, no he wouldn't.
Stiles rolled his eyes and pushed him away as he spoke. "Fuck off if you're about to say-" His voice imitated Derek's as he put on a scowly face. "We're not friends."
"I wasn't going to say that."
"Oh yeah, what were you going to say?"
"I would like you if you were less annoying."
Stiles' mouth dropped open and Derek laughed.
"You know you're cute when you're indignant. Less cute when you talk though."
Stiles' face went red as he turned away.
"Yeah, yeah. Okay, we should get going." He deflected.
"Oh, you can do all of that earlier, but I call you cute and you look like you were left in the sun for days?"
Stiles turned back around with a finger pointed up, but his mouth opened without any words coming out.
"Get your finger out of my face or I'll bite it."
Stiles shov-
"Ow!" He quickly pulled his finger back as a self satisfied smirk found its way to Derek's face. "You bit my finger!"
"You shoved your finger in my face. I told you I would bite it."
"What are you, five?!"
Derek shrugged.
Stiles cradled his finger to his chest as he glared at Derek. "First, you make fun of me by calling me cute, then you brutally bite off my finger. What's next? Are you going to stab me?"
"I wasn't making fun."
That reply wasn't expected and the shock showed itself on his face. He looked apprehensive. "People don't call me cute. They just don't."
Derek stepped closer and cradled his face as his thumb stroked the freckles on his cheeks. "They should. It's true. Even when you're red as a cherry, you're cute." Derek sounded distracted. "Especially then."
"Your ass is cute." Stiles inwardly cursed that his response to compliments was humor.
Derek snorted a laugh and let his hand drop. "Why, thank you. I do believe Jacob has mentioned it when he thought I couldn't hear."
"Well, I've got to respect a man that knows a true asset when he sees one."
"Was that a pun?"
Stiles put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm about to tell you something very important, it's always a pun."
They both smiled and Derek realized his cheeks were starting to hurt from it. And of course that's when reality had to crash down on him.
"Well, it was nice to know you sourwolf." He gave an exaggerated bow and Derek's stomach flipped.
"Wait, are you leaving?"
Stiles tilted his head. "Yeah. I mean my sale was a bust, thanks for that by the way. No moonshine tonight, I got you instead." His face lit up. "Maybe that's what I'll call you. Moonshine."
Derek wrinkled his nose at the name.
"Anyways, I have to head back." He pointed behind himself.
"I'm headed that way too. We can walk together."
Stiles looked at the two barrels. "I think you'll be slower, besides you don't don't want to be caught out with the likes of me. This time already has been a risk for you."
Stiles started to turn.
"Wait! I just- I was going to ask for your help. They are very heavy and it didn't look like much work for you to lift one before." He threw in one final plea. "I'm tired."
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Honestly, what would you do without me." That same yellow flowed around him again, and the barrels were both lifted up.
"You didn't have to- I could've taken one."
Stiles rolled his eyes. "It's not like they're heavy."
Derek grumbled. "They are, you just cheat."
"This isn't cheating. It takes just as much effort, if not more."
Derek was intrigued. He had heard stories about sparks and their power. Given their rarity he didn't think he'd ever meet one. "How does it work? I mean, I just assumed you waggled your fingers and it, I don't know, happened."
Stiles gave him an unimpressed look. "You thought magic... Just happens?"
He shrugged.
Stiles sighed and began walking. "There are different types of magic, but rarely does it ever just, happen. Every type of magic takes years of mastery and skill. Though you can have an aptness for it, a predisposition. Something that makes magic just," Stiles paused, seemingly searching inside himself for the answer. "Belong. Magic just belongs inside some people. It is meant to flow, to work and be inside of some people. Like me. And like how being a werewolf belongs inside of you. Its not a part of you, it is you."
Stiles stopped walking and Derek did as well.
Easy as breathing Stiles' eyes turned scarlet and flames reflected from his eyes into Derek's while he watched with interest. Stiles raised a closed fist and slowly opened it to let loose little cinders. They rose up and as Derek watched their dance they took shape of a bird. It swooped and soared, but soon enough they took on a new shape. A man's face slowly came into focus. As they settled Derek recognized the face as his own. His image morphed and he saw his eyes gather most of the burning particles and it changed his face to a look of anger. Just as it looked like it was about to yell something, all of the cinders instantly gathered into his eyes. In the next moment, the two spots were gathering. As the groups collided they shot up into the air to once again form the bird, this time wings spread wide. Derek heard a ear piercing screech, but it only reverberated inside of his own chest. Just like that, they disappeared leaving not even a trail of smoke in their wake.
"Neat party trick, huh?" His eyes went back to normal and he resumed walking, like he hadn't just changed Derek's worldview.
"That was bloody brilliant!"
Stiles shrugged. "You should see what I can do with a glass of water."
Derek's eyes shone. "I bet that's brilliant too."
Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks."
"That bird was beautiful. And it really looked like my face!" Derek faltered and seemed unsure, "Except, why-why did it look like that? So angry and hateful?"
Stiles looked away. "That's how you looked last time I saw you. Usually, it latches onto a vibrant memory of someone's face."
Derek solemnly nodded. "Right. I'm sorry about that. I shoul-"
Stiles waved a hand. "It doesn't matter. Who cares."
"I do. I treated you unjustly. I apologize."
Stiles looked over at him. "I accept." He looked down at his hands for a second. "Well, I should go."
Derek looked at him with alarm. Perhaps his apology was lackluster. "But-" After his objection he took in the scene of a familiar back alley. "Oh. We're already here."
Stiles scoffed. "You hadn't noticed, sourwolf?"
Derek looked sheepish. He hadn't. He was so wrapped up in Stiles he could've walked straight into a pole and he wouldn't have noticed.
"I just- we barely got to talk."
"My favorite fruit is oranges, I love freshly baked pastries, but I can only get the best ones in a land far away from here, and I've had a long day. These barrels are heavy. There, those are some things about me." Stiles gently set down the barrels and the yellow magic faded after Derek opened the door for him.
Derek nodded. "Right. Of course. I know they are, I haul them every week." He hoped he picked up on what he was trying to ask for.
"I bid you farewell, sourwolf."
The frustration at him leaving without the insurance of another meeting got to him. "Goodnight pirate."
The pirate's face closed off at that. He quickly turned on his heels to leave.
Shit. This alley must be cursed. He always said the wrong thing there.
"Stiles?"
He didn't turn. "Yes?"
"My favorite fruit is apples."
When Stiles' face came into view it had a soft smile. "Sleep well, moonshine."
"You as well, Captain." Stiles face was shocked and pleased at Derek using his proper title for the first time.
Stiles walked away again and Derek reluctantly went in the door.
Damn it. He would never see him again.
Damn it. As Stiles walked away he thought of how he should've made plans for another meeting, but he hadn't.
Derek fell asleep and for the first time, dreamed of images in fire and ashes that didn't end in heartbreak.
---
Mr. Bramington and his son came sharply at three. Derek was able to make his excuses as he kept himself busy while they drank. Jacob, upon realizing his father must've greatly exaggerated his interest, left with his father in tow.
The evening passed in a flash after that as Derek's mood was high and the bar was full. He cleaned tables diligently as his mother poured for the evening crowd.
A patron made a joke and he smiled back. He was about to crack back when he looked up at the swinging doors clattering open.
His smile faltered and he nearly dropped the jug he was carrying.
His mother shot him a look and quickly wiped her hands on her apron as she weaved the tables to get to their intruder.
He had to get upstairs. Lily had not learned proper control over sensing pack distress, so his father had no way of knowing what was happening.
Over his shoulder he heard, "Captain Whittemore, have you come for a drink?"
At that name being uttered the tavern fell to a hush.
"No. I'm here on business."
Derek felt the bile at the back of his throat as he reached the girl's room where they were studying.
His dad looked up from where he was pointing at the book in front of Lily with a smile. One that faded as soon as he saw Derek's state. He instantly knew something was wrong.
"Where is your mother?" He asked urgently.
"Downstairs with the Captain."
The color drained from his face.
Thomas instantly shot up and grabbed Lily's hand. He drug her over to his room and Derek could hear him grabbing their packed bag from under his bed and handing Derek's to Lily.
His father similarly went to his room and grabbed his parents bag.
From downstairs Derek heard, "What sort of business?" His mother's voice cool as a river.
"The official kind."
They both rushed back into the room and suddenly Derek couldn't hear anything except the blood pumping in his ears.
He could see the commotion of them moving around him, but could not bring himself to move.
He saw Thomas sling a bag around himself, then he helped Lily pull out one from under Laura's bed.
He saw his father grab a knife out of his bag and he wondered if people were about to bust down the door. If his father could hear them he should be able to, but he just couldn't focus. His mind felt foggy as he watched his father open and lean out of the window. He saw him stick the knife under one of the letters on the sign right outside the window. He pried until the H came off. He knew there was a reason for it. His mind was just so blurry right now.
Aven. That was a flower. Right? Derek was grasping to figure out what it meant. It didn't make sense. The letter now laid on the window sill and it meant something. Laura would know. Maybe it was about Laura?
His father was now tucking the knife into his waistband and talking to him. Was he talking too? No, he didn't think so. It didn't even feel like he was breathing. What was his father trying to say? Something about his mother. Was she here? He tried to shake his head to clear it. To bring his father's or his mother's voice back into focus, but he could not. He tried desperately to bring air into his lungs, but once again he couldn't.
Suddenly he felt a small hand on his arm and the world snapped back into focus. "Derek, you need to calm down."
He looked into Thomas' eyes and they were set with determination. "You need to help us. We can't hear down there, but you can. What is mom saying? Can you tell us?"
Derek nodded even though he wasn't sure he could do much of anything right now. It was taking all of his strength to just remain standing. He focused on the hand holding his arm then on his mother's voice. "She's taking the Captain to the storeroom."
"What else?"
He still felt a bit dazed. He didn't answer Thomas.
He saw him moving and he brought Lily closer.
"Ow!" He felt the pinpricks of tiny claws.
"What else Derek?!"
He felt his head clear. Oh God, he needed to protect them. The Captain would kill them. He looked at his little brother and cousin. He was instantly dropped back into the panic of the moment as his senses returned fully. "She's taking him around. He's... looking for something?"
His father's eyebrows pulled together. "What?"
He listened and tried to catch their words, but it was hard with them in the heavily insulated room. He finally pieced enough words together.
"He's looking for moonshine?"
His father deflated and he looked two seconds away from a heart attack. "Thank the gods." There was an uneasy set to his shoulders still, but he wasn't as distraught. "I should go down. Derek stay here, and if you hear us tell you, you take them and you run."
He dutifully nodded.
His father went downstairs and the three of them sat huddled together, a kid under each of his arms, tensely till Derek heard the guards and the Captain leave. Lily started shaking and he just held her tighter. Derek hadn't realized how scared he was till he saw his mother enter and his claws vanished from where they were buried in his thighs.
At the sight of her, Thomas started to sob. His parents quickly joined them on the floor where Derek was leaning against Laura's bed. They wrapped them up in a hug and just sat there for a couple minutes.
Lily's timid barely used voice broke the silence. "Safe?"
Derek pulled her onto his lap as his mother kissed her forehead.
"Safe."
She stopped trembling and nodded.
His mother rose to her feet and Derek wanted to pull her back down.
"I have to go to the meeting place. Laura would've been done by now and she would've seen the sign. She'll be waiting."
The only thing keeping him from asking his mother to stay was the need to see his sister.
When they went back downstairs the bar was empty besides Mark who had reached across the bar to serve himself.
As his mother moved to leave his father stopped her. "Maybe I should go, love. I'm less noticeable than you. And you should stay with the kids."
She considered for a moment. "Alright. But hurry."
He nodded then walked up to her. They briefly rested their heads together then kissed. "I'll be back soon, dear."
He was out the door.
They helped their mother clean up the bar as they waited.
Derek was flipping a chair over as the doors burst open and a teary eyed Laura froze at the door. After seeing them alive and unharmed she ran closer and swept the two youngest into her arms. Derek moved closer and he was brought into the hug as well.
"I saw the sign and I thought- I thought I'd never see you again." Her voice was shaky.
Their mother smoothed down her wild hair. "Did you leave your father behind?"
Just as she finished speaking. The doors burst open yet again. His father was out of breath as he braced on his knees. "Don't worry about your old man. Just run all the way back why don't you."
There had been so many people bursting through the doors these days ever since Sti-
Derek's heart dropped out of his chest.
They were here looking for moonshine. Stiles sold moonshine. Derek was with him last night.
This was all his fault.
Derek didn't know whether he felt more guilt or more anger.
He suddenly thought about Stiles warning him that being around him could be dangerous, then he thought of the dirty pirate some how telling Jackson about them.
He now felt nothing but rage and contempt for the pirate.
He started to stalk off to his room, but Laura caught his arm. She looked to their mother. "What are we to do?"
His mother and father looked at each other for a few moments. "We will stay, for awhile. To leave immediately would arouse suspicion, but if they call again we will leave. If this is just about erroneous moonshine rumors then this will blow over. We just stay quiet and calm. Go to sleep."
Derek was anything but calm as he laid down for bed.
He sat stewing for a half hour before he heard a groan. "I need you to stop Derek. I can't sleep. It won't help being angry or feeling guilty."
Derek didn't know what to say.
He heard a sigh and covers rustling.
Thomas settled in beside him and he instantly felt the comfort of his brother.
"Do you want a story?"
Thomas laid his head on Derek's shoulder. "No. I think I just want to be here."
Derek knew exactly what he meant so his just kissed his forehead and said, "Okay."
Less than ten minutes later he heard shuffling in the girl's room before their door opened and in walked Laura holding a sleeping Lily to her chest. "Move over Der-bear."
It had been awhile since he had heard the teasing nickname and didn't care for it, but he complied nonetheless.
All four of them settled in.
He heard his mother check all the doors and windows. She came to check on them.
She gave all four of them a kiss on the forehead before saying goodnight.
Derek slept restlessly. If it wasn't Thomas kicking him it was Laura's snoring. Lily was a sticky weight on his chest. Good God, that kid was a furnace. He was already awake when the noise started from the alley, but all the wolves fell quickly out of slumber.
Thomas awoke with a look of alarm. "What is it?"
Laura went to stand, but Derek stopped her. "You stay with them. It's probably the raccoons again."
He met his mother in the hall.
"I'll check tonight Derek."
He felt a bit of panic bubble in his chest. "No, it's okay I can. It's probably that pest again."
"I want to make sure tonight." She looked like she was listening to the back alley.
Shit. He hoped she was focused enough on the noise outside and not on his heart. "I looked out the window. It's just raccoons."
She looked at him for a moment and he tried to be calm. "Okay."
He nodded and went downstairs.
He took a steadying breath before opening the door.
The pirate's mouth opened with some quip or another at the ready. Derek quickly put a finger against his own mouth to tell him to be silent. He moved his hands in a way that he thought looked like magic using. Stiles raised and eyebrow and rolled his eyes. Which turned black and wispy like they had before.
The smoke cleared and he spoke. "There, now no one can hea-"
Derek had him up against the opposite wall by his throat before he even finished his sentence. The pirate's eyes went wide as Derek lifted him slightly off the ground. He started to try and break the hold as Derek's claws started to make beads of blood drip down his neck. "Do you enjoy toying with people?! With their families?! Well, I've had enough of your sick games, you bastard! All this time you try and get me to trust you, but then you do this?! Why even bother?!" Derek's eyes were murderous.
The pirate was desperately trying to take in a breath. "St-stop. W-wh-what?"
He thought of how scared he had been earlier, Derek's resolve didn't falter. "I should kill you for what you did to my family."
The confusion in the pirate's eyes seemed out of place to him. He let up just a bit.
The human's nails dug into his arms. "Do-don't ma-make me d-"
Derek pressed harder again. If he was innocent why wasn't he using his magic to help himself? Did he feel guilty?
"P-please."
With a growl Derek let him drop to the floor. He fell to his hands and knees and took in great gulps of air.
In-between deep breaths he spoke. "What. The. Hell."
Looking at his prone form Derek wanted to kick him till he heard bones crack. "You are the scum of the earth. You prey on innocent people no matter how much it hurts others."
Stiles shakily made it back to his feet. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Derek whirled on him and the pirate's arms whipped up placatingly.
"Don't play dumb!"
"Listen to my heart. Does it skip? I have no idea what you're talking about."
Derek's eyebrows pulled together. He thought back. How would the Captain have known if the pirate hadn't told him? "That doesn't make any sense. He knew. He knew we talked. How did he know?"
Stiles looked as confused as Derek. "Who? How did who know?"
Derek sneered, "The Captain. He came to my bar because of you."
Stiles' eyes went wide. "What? No. That doesn't make any sense. He couldn't have not withou- What exactly happened?"
"He came looking for your pisswater, as if we would sell it." The confusion morphed back to anger.
Stiles let out a relieved breath. "Oh."
That boiled his blood. "Oh?! Oh?! Like he couldn't have found out about us?! Like we couldn't have been forced to flee our home?! Like it isn't important that my entire family could've been torn apart and killed?!" His voice rose as fearful tears fell.
"No. Oh, like I'm glad he didn't know about you. Oh, like I'm glad you and your family are safe. Oh, like I'm glad you weren't forced to leave."
Derek felt like someone had put all of his emotions into a cup and mixed them. "What? How- why do you say things like that, and yet you leave me so confused? I always feel so many different things around you. I feel like I should trust you, even when I know it is not so."
The pirate's face turned into a soft smile. "Feel all you would like, but know this, I would never, ever put your family in harms way. I would die before telling anyone something that would harm you or them."
Derek just kept falling deeper and deeper into the darkness. "Why? What have we done to earn such fierce allegiance?"
Stiles looked into his eyes and he swore he saw a flash of guiding light. "Because, you exist in a way that is different. Someone that has everyone against them needs at least one person on their side." He squinted at him. "And I don't think you've ever had that person, moonshine."
Derek decided he believed him. The fight left his shoulders and he let the anger fizzle. He replied, "You hurt me. You hurt me because you exist in a way that is different, but similar to me. You hurt me because you have decided to care for me, and I don't know what that means. Or even if I can allow it." He stared directly into Stiles' eyes. "I cannot yet decide if you are a poison or a salve. If you are meant to be my healing or my damnation. A kiss of grace-" Derek looked to his lips. "Or the silver tongue of the devil."
Stiles' arm reached up, but it froze as Derek looked to the side and continued, "Because I was around you my family could've lost everything."
His arm dropped.
"I am sorry Miguel. Truly."
Derek looked back intensely. "Are you bad for me?"
Stiles wanted nothing more than to say no. "I could be. I do not know."
Derek sighed. "My family I-"
Stiles' smile did not reach his eyes. "It's okay. I know. I understand."
When Stiles' hand cupped his cheek he closed his eyes against the feelings welling inside of him. He didn't see it, but he felt the soft press of lips against his other cheek.
"Goodbye, my moonshine."
He had only met him a hand full of times, but Derek had this pull towards him. It felt like if he let him walk away he'd spend the rest of his life regretting it. He didn't want to see Stiles leave. "Goodbye, Captain."
When Derek opened his eyes he saw a faint trace of black smoke. His spell was gone, just like him.
"Derek?" His mother's voice called out from the steps. "What's taking so long?"
Derek wiped under his eyes and walked back inside. "Nothing, Mom."
She frown as soon as she saw him, then her face turned surprised. "You were crying?"
Of course she'd smell his tears. "Nothing Mama. I just hurt him and I didn't mean to." Derek felt the sting of how true those words were.
Her face softened. "It looks like he hurt you too. You have too kind of a heart, sweet cub. Sometimes we hurt things we don't mean to. That doesn't make us bad. It just makes us people. Everybody hurts things Derek. I'm sure he's fine." She pulled him into a hug and raked her fingers through his hair.
"He just- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." He crumpled farther into her.
Stiles was the first person he'd ever had any sort of connection to, and he messed it up somehow. He didn't even know if he was trustworthy, but his absence stung like he was important. Like he was a friend.
Derek had only been friends with Issac, Erica, and Boyd, and they had to leave him too. He probably hurt them too. He almost hurt his family by not being careful. Why was he so bad at this.
Maybe he was the poison.
His mother pulled back and he put on a smile.
She looked unsure. "Is something else the matter? Is there som-"
"I'm fine. Just too tired I think." He started for the stairs.
"Derek."
He looked back.
"You know there is nothing you could ever do that I wouldn't forgive you for, right?"
"I kno-"
"And perhaps you should start forgiving yourself for things that were and are out of your control. I don't know or understand what has been going on with you, but I still know you. You are good, even when you try to convince yourself you are not. You put the weight of the world on your shoulders son, if I can't convince you to put it down, will you at least share it with someone? Laura or I wou-"
"I'm fine. Truly mother. Just a bad night." He knew she wouldn't believe him, but he hoped she'd let him have his secrets.
She looked like she would fight him, but then thought better of it. "Alright. Get some sleep. I love you Derek."
"Love you too Mom."
Derek laid awake wondering how he knew if Stiles truly didn't tell the Captain.
---
"And that's where you left it?!" Scott sounded outraged.
"I'm a liability to his family, Scott."
"So what? It's true love!" He was practically shouting.
Cora walked in on the wrong moment. "Is he trying to convince ye to marry him again?"
Stiles rolled his eyes. "No. What did you need Cor?" Beside Scott, she was his closest deckhand. Throughout their years of searching they grew close. Through every false lead, every person trying to dupe them for money, they stood together never letting their faith waver. She had become family, just as Scott was. Like all of his crew.
"Me and Malia are shovin off."
"Malia and I. Okay I'll be up in a minute to send you off."
Scott went to bed with one final beseeching look.
---
The next week passed quickly and without event. His family let out a breath at their continued safety.
Derek settled back into his normal routine like he'd never left it, and soon enough he was wondering if his loneliness invented the pirate. If he was some manifested moral argument that was warring inside of him.
Just like his magic, he had left no trace. He had half a mind to ask Mr. Bramington if he remembered him.
He was back to the rush of the day and the quietness of the night. The anger was still in the back of him, but he embraced everything with an air of detachment and acceptance.
Very few things mattered to him anymore. But among those that did, were his nightly stories. Thomas had applauded him on including more humor in them lately. He didn't have it in him to explain about how it was the pirate that really brought the humor. Another thing he never cared for before was pouring a glass of whiskey, now it was one of his favorite parts of the day. Every time someone asked for rum he looked at them, just to be sure it wasn't him. One day a patron thrilled to be done with the work week threw open the doors and Derek nearly broke his neck snapping it up so fast. He smiled at a pun his father made and he had to assure them all that he had smiled like that recently, he was sure of it, maybe just not in front of them in a long time.
Derek didn't know if his life was better or worse, he just knew it was changed. The kind of change that hurts to remember before and aches to think of what ifs.
If there was an ache in his shoulders he didn't feel it. It was almost as if his magic lingered. As if it helped Derek carry the barrels, even now.
He was looking forward to resting when out of the corner of his eye he saw a blurred shadow darting in an alley. He was instantly alarmed. He hastily put down both barrels and tried to squash the part of his brain that invented the swish of a familiar brown coat. "Who goes there?"
There was silence.
A crown's guard would've announced their presence. "I saw you moving, do not make me come over there."
An unbelievably high and shrilly voice spoke, "Oh, it's just silly me. I forgot the wash on the line."
There was no way that was actually a woman's voice.
"Come out."
"I'm in my nighty you pervert."
Derek scented the air and as familiar spicy soap, rum, salt, and something unidentifiable filled his nose, happiness filled his chest. "I already know it's you. Come out here, Stiles."
That shrilly voice again. "No, it's not."
Derek listened and sure enough, he picked out a recognizable rabbiting heartbeat. He wondered when the pirate's heartbeat had become recognizable to him. He smiled and replied in a similar high tone. "Yes it is."
It must've caught him off guard because Derek heard his bubbling laugh from the dark alley.
Slowly he emerged. "I swear, I did not seek you out."
Derek had a wide smile. "I gathered that from your most convincing ruse."
He crossed his arms. "I was pressed for time okay! You snuck up on me."
"You must be horrible at stealth. I've ran into you numerous times at night now."
Stiles' smile faded. "I'm very good at stealth actually. But I should go." He had a regretful look upon his face.
"Wait." Derek wanted to reach out to grab him. To make him stay.
"I'm sorry, moonshine. I don't wan- Your family. We mustn't press fate. It's not just the captain we have to worry about, the guard patrol."
Derek felt a hot stone in his gut. "Right. Of course. Were you on a delivery?" He didn't actually want to know. He didn't want to find out how many of their customers he was stealing, but he didn't want to be without his company again so soon.
"Yes. Business is booming. I really should depart, moonshine."
"Why don't you leave?"
The pirate looked confused and hurt.
"No! I mean not here, the port. Pirates don't stay in one port for long. Why do you? Surely you risk capture?"
"I am looking for someone. It is imperative that I find them, and it is my greatest hope that I will find them here."
"So, you cannot leave?"
"Do you want me to?"
That had been what he'd been hinting towards, but now that he said it he knew it not to be so. "I think it would be best for my heart if I had to stop saying goodbye to you."
"But do you want me to?"
Derek looked away and he then realized how unfair a question he had asked. "Sorry, nevermind."
He started to walk away when his voice froze him. "I want, to be able to talk to you the entire night. Just the two of us making each other laugh like this world isn't trying to break us. God, how you manage to make me laugh." There was a pause. "That is what I truly want."
Stiles tried to find his voice. "But we cannot have what we want, can we?"
"No."
With great difficulty he continued to walk away.
He was almost to the next alley when an idea hit him. He turned and ran back to where Derek was picking up the barrels.
Derek looked at him in confusion.
"What if no one could tell it was me?"
His eyebrows furrowed. "What?"
"What if I looked completely different? Could we see each other then? If no one knew it was me?"
"I suppose? But if your disguise is anything like your voice change, then I don't think it will be very good." Derek smiled.
"Shut up you jackass. I'm serious. Would that work?"
Derek considered it. "If you looked nothing like yourself? Yes, I think it would."
Stiles' eyes were wild with happiness. He rushed Derek and hugged him. Derek wanted to let the barrels go crashing to the floor so he could wrap his arms around him instead. Stiles stepped back.
"I will meet you here, same time, next week. Okay?"
Derek wanted to say no, to have the strength for it, but he couldn't. He craved to feel the way he did around Stiles constantly. "You will find me here."
---
The week could not pass fast enough and Thomas started to wonder about the stories he told. They all included a heart touching reunion or forbidden meeting of some sort and it took Derek quite a bit of effort not to die from embarrassment when he pointed it out.
He made himself wait to leave the distillery so he'd only be ten minutes early, but he found himself dashing through the streets. He waited fifteen minutes and wondered if the pirate would show. If maybe he changed his mind, if he had left. At twenty minutes he stared at the barrels wondering how long he could put off picking them up. It had been thirty minutes and he was about to leave when he heard someone approach. His heart instantly soared.
"What took you so long? Did you take a nap, you lazy bastard?"
An old man came out of the shadows. "What did you call me?" He was bent over and had a crotchety look on his face.
Derek instantly paled. "I am so sorry sir! I thought you were someone else!"
The old man's lips started to turn up till he let out a rumbustious laugh.
Derek looked confused. He wondered if maybe the man had had a bit too much drink. He took a breath in to see if he could smell the alcohol.
He did smell rum, but there was another scent that struck him.
"Stiles?!"
The man rolled his eyes and instantly Derek knew it was him.
"What is the point of all this if you just go on saying my name like that?"
Derek check to see if he could hear anyone around. He didn't. "My gods it is you! How?"
He pulled out a pendant from under his shirt. It had the faint trace of black smoke leaking from it. He held it in his palm and closed his eyes. Between one blink and the next Stiles was standing in front of him. "I do have a few tricks, moonshine."
Derek came closer and looked at the rock. "And you'll just enchant this every time we are near? Will you always look different to me?"
Stiles shook his head. "No. It is still enchanted."
Derek cocked his head. "But I see you?"
"If I want someone to see through it, I just have to hold it and focus on a strong memory of them."
Derek thought for a moment. "Like with the fire bird?"
Stiles nodded.
"Did you think of the same memory?"
"How do you mean?" He asked confused.
Derek looked nervous. "Do you still think of me angered and yelling?"
Stiles smiled sweetly. "I think of the forests in your eyes and your bunny teeth."
To divert from his rising blush Derek flashed his fangs.
Stiles laughed. "Oh, don't worry, I think of those too. Just not when I'm casting magic."
There was no hiding his blush now. "My mother warned me sailors have dirty minds."
"Did she also tell you only pirates can follow through with all they say?"
Derek looked away. "Never came up."
The pirate opened his mouth.
"Do not! Leave it alone."
He laughed. "Shame. That was such a good one."
Derek felt the smile on his face slide into place and he relaxed. "What took you so long?"
"I received a message." Dejection wafted through the air.
"Not good?" Derek tried to be sympathetic, even though Laura always told him he sucked at it.
"Not the best, but that doesn't matter now. Now I just want to talk to you."
Derek felt warmth curl itself into his belly, but not the harsh heat he was familiar with. It was nice, feeling like someone wanted his company.
They wandered aimlessly and talked all night.
************************
Okayyyy so hopefully I'll have the next part up in like a week. Thanks for reading!
#Stiles#stiles stilinski#teen wolf stiles#derek x stiles#stiles x derek#magic!stiles#spark stiles#spark!stiles#Derek#derek hale#Sterek#sterek bingo 2020#sterekbingo2020#sterek bingo#sbrivals#sbpetnames#sbpirates#pirate!stiles#barkeep!derek#theres so much backstory and plot to this#seriously so much backstory ask veti#derek is a failwolf#he is so angsty and honestly he just needs a friend#scott mccall#allison argent#lydia martin#jackson whittemore#erica reyes#vernon boyd#alive hale family
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