the joys of a keychain (wow! little object) vs the fears of a keychain (What If It Vanishes)

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

It’s that time again!

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2019 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out! 

25.) Foolishy Laying Our Hearts on the Table by @runaway-train-works (11k)

“You think Harry wants that?”

“Dunno. Maybe. Wanna make him happy.” Harry takes advantage of the red light he’s pulled up to turn and look properly at Louis’ face. He’s not even looking in Harry’s direction though, focused instead on something out of his side window, head drooped, mindlessly playing with the string of his hoodie between his fingers, lost in his own world somewhere. For some reason, it makes Harry’s spine straighten.

“Because he’s your best mate?” Harry questions carefully.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

He couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”

Louis releases a deep breath, still not turning around. Harry wonders who he thinks he’s talking to right now. “He’s so pretty. Want to kiss him all day long. And buy him a big house and give him presents and marry him.”

Or

The one where Harry is in love with his best friend Louis but doesn't think he stands a chance until some wisdom teeth and a rather unusual confession might just change his mind.

24.) Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices by @toomanydreamers (126k)

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

23.) all we can do is keep breathing by @avocadolouie (310k)

“Harry, I-I’m so sorry…” Louis stutters out, trying to keep his voice level and even, to portray a depiction of strength, but with the way Harry is looking at him, staring at him like he has a personal passage way straight to Louis’ soul, it’s so hard, nearly impossible.

That simple opening phrase, that short introductory acknowledgement that is often rushed out so easily, painlessly, at a safe distance. Giving a doctor the ability to portray empathy without true emotion, without feeling the full brunt and sheer force of the underlying pain itself.

But Louis feels it, he feels the crushing agony laced behind the phrase, he feels the weight of the painful words slipping from his lips, the cause and effect that the three-word expression holds. The distantly empty “I’m so sorry” that doctors throw out in self-preservation, isn’t at all empty for him. Louis recognizes it, he understands it, he feels it.

--

a fated story of two broken and battered boys who barely survived the unimaginable and how the love of one little brave girl defies all the odds and somehow puts them back together.

22.) Raise a Glass to the Four of Us by @2tiedships2 (25k)

Louis stared at his luggage.

Well. Apparently not his luggage, because the clothing he was looking at currently was a: worth more than everything he currently possessed, b: not his size at all, and c: more suited for a fancy ass lawyer than a holiday in NYC with his best mates.

“Ooh, nice loafers,” Niall said as he pulled one out of the suitcase. “I love the rainbows.”

“Okay,” Liam began. “What do you want to do first? Eat, shop for new clothes, or spend hours on the phone with the airline?”

Louis continued to stare at the luggage.

21.) You Have to Retreat to Advance by @2tiedships2 (18k)

“What am I going to do, Perrie? I can’t go on this retreat by myself. My boss literally said he wants to meet my omega.” Harry paused. “Okay, not literally but he definitely expects me to be bringing him.”

“Don’t people go on these things by themselves?” Perrie asked.

Harry shrugged. “Of course but that’s not the point.”

“What’s the point?”

“My boss is expecting to meet my omega! I don’t have an omega!”

“Is this a paying gig?” Perrie asked.

“You mean paying an omega to spend the weekend with me? I’m sure the resort has nice amenities. Does that count?”

“I take that as a no,” Perrie said with an eye roll. “It’s okay, Louis might be willing to do it for free.”

“Who’s Louis?”

Or the one where Harry is expected to bring his longterm omega to the company's mountain retreat. Since he hadn't told anyone that they'd broken up months ago, he now has to find someone willing to play the part.

20.) A Darker Shade of Love by LittleSpoonStyles94 (750k)

Louis is a 30 year old multi-billionaire with a very dark past. He is violent and is a sadist with a taste for pain. Harry Styles is a 19 year old student who sets out to London after being kicked out by his homophobic father to follow his dreams. He wants to go to the best University to study but he needs a lot of money so he starts to work as a part time stripper at a gay club to support his studies and his life. The club he works at, Garland's, is part owned by Louis Tomlinson. When they meet, its life changing for the both of them.

19.) You Still Make Sense to Me by @amories (37k)

Harry, Louis, and their family navigate life together through the years.

18.) Like Water Over Fire (Like Water On Fire) by @mcssymon (119k)

“I’m sorry your highness, I think I misheard you, did you really say that you are hoping to meet your husband?” Oh god, Louis panicked. Was Prince Harry gay? Was he even allowed to be gay? Surely he wouldn’t be allowed to have a selection from a group of men, right?

Prince Harry looked partly like he wanted to laugh, but also very, very nervous about what he had just admitted, “Yes, sir, you heard correctly”

Or Prince Harry has 46 men and 13 weeks to find the husband of his dreams, Louis has a limited amount to time to live out a royal fantasy. They might just be exactly what the other needs.

17.) waiting for the tides to meet by @nauticalleeds (59k)

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

16.) Call Answered by @vondrostes (249k)

The day after his 27th birthday, Harry Styles attempts suicide. Louis is flown to his bedside to unravel the mystery of why he did it after a flash drive is found with a note attached, addressed to Louis. On it are a collection of 78 songs, all written for different dates from their past.

15.) Counterbalance by @louandhazaf (44k)

Harry Styles loves two things: teaching ballet and racing motorcycles. Those two worlds collide when his greatest rival on the track, Louis “Tommo” Tomlinson brings his tiny siblings to Harry’s class.

14.) Everywhere and Nowhere by @2tiedships2 (16k)

Niall took a seat and said, "Apparently Louis' downstairs neighbor is a fan of giving Louis creepy gifts. Maybe I should go introduce myself and tell him that Louis actually prefers food."

"What has he given you?" Liam asked.

Louis shrugged as it were no big deal. "There was a rabbit's foot keychain on the door a little after he left from introducing himself and there was a small teddy bear sitting by my door tonight. Obviously I can't prove it's from him, but they seem to have his scent. I could be wrong though."

"Wow," Liam said, looking deep in thought. "That's old school."

"What's old school?" Niall asked. "Giving creepy gifts?"

"I've never known an alpha to do it, to be honest, but he's courting you."

Louis couldn't contain his look of disbelief directed at Liam. "He's courting me. Like some sort of romantic shit they'd do in the 1800s or something?"

13.) Swallow The Knife by whoknows (76k)

“You came,” Louis says, still breathless, clinging to Harry, uncaring that his sweat is getting all over Harry’s presumably clean dad shirt, or that he’s making Harry hold up all of his weight.

“Of course I came,” Harry says. He shifts, one arm curled underneath Louis’ arse, the other spreading wide in the middle of Louis’ back. “If I ignored you every time you pissed me off we would have stopped being friends a long time ago.”

Louis already knows that, of course. It doesn’t do anything to stop the pleased squirm in his belly every time Harry proves it, though. They fight like nobody’s business, both of them too stubborn to pull their punches when they’re arguing, and it used to get them in trouble, but they always make up.

Adrenaline makes Louis loose-lipped, and they both know it. He tightens his arms around Harry’s neck, buries his face in his hair. “I missed you,” he confesses, quiet. “Doesn’t feel the same up there by myself.”

12.) and oh, all of your saturdays could end up in woe by ihavetoomuchfreetime (70k)

a fic in which louis' in a long-term relationship with an abusive asshole, niall, zayn and liam are so far but not really, and harry is that all too friendly guy who works in sainsbury's.

11.) thinking about the t-shirt you slept in by @absoloutenonsense (52k)

Harry's alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam's latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis' financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.

10.) Consequences by @allwaswell16 (78k)

Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up. Sometimes, he even thinks he has. It only takes one moment to freeze them back in time.

An amnesia au

9.) Strawberries & Cigarettes by @dimpled-halo (76k)

Harry looks up and immediately freezes. Next to Ms. Archie stands the boy from just the other day. The boy with the leather jacket and chipped black nails, that might or might not be sketched in the very book Harry has just placed on the table in front of him. The leather jacket is missing today, probably because they aren’t allowed as part of their required uniform attire, but Harry can still see the fading black nail polish on his nails, and eyeliner around his eyes. Harry’s mouth goes a little dry. This boy is so intriguing to him.

“Ye-yes, Ms. Archie?” Harry tries to play it cool, but he’s almost positive that his cheeks are burning red, and he’s relieved neither of them can tell how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

The boy seems to also recognize Harry, because his lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“Harry is at the top of his class. He’s your best bet at getting familiar with things around here.” She explains.

Louis nods, his smirk still very prominent on his face. “Thank you Ms. Archie. I’ll be sure to take advantage of young Harold here.”

*

Summary: Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

8.) Pain makes people change by Deidei (113k)

An organization called Canis Lupus existed solely for changing humans imprisoned in their wolf form back to their human form. Some people after experiencing some traumatic event can only ‘’protect’’ themselves from the pain by forgetting everything. To do that, to feel safe, they shift into their wolf form.

Which they'll be stuck in forever should no one intervene.

Louis Tomlison went through a traumatic experience at the age of twelve in which he lost his mother, to make the pain go away he shifted into a wolf and fled. He survived in the wild as a wolf for five years until Canis Lupis caught him... Though he wasn't alone, he had a pup at his side.

7.) Pretty Please (With Sugar On Top) by @angelichl (113k)

Harry is a sugar baby omega who cons rich alphas for a living. Louis is a rich alpha with too much self-control.

6.) Enemies with benefits by ssii8 (267k)

Where Harry is captain of basketball team and Louis is captain of football team and they hate each other. But somehow this doesn't stop them from having sex.

And everything is perfect until they start to feel something more.

5.) Ready To Fall by whoknows (21k)

“Ninety and rising,” Nick says triumphantly, as though making Harry’s heartbeat pick up by thrusting an obscenely attractive person in front of his face is any kind of success. “Louis Tomlinson has just walked into our control room and suddenly our dear Harry Styles has lost all ability to speak. Could this be some kind of strange coincidence?”

“I hate you,” Harry hisses, forcing his eyes back into Nick’s direction, uncaring that the mic must have picked it up. “I thought we agreed that you were going to play fair.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nick denies, except he’s holding up a picture of Louis’ face now, sharp cheekbones prominent, soft lashes nearly sweeping against his cheeks as he looks down, and his fucking mouth –

“A hundred and two!” Nick crows, all but clapping his hands together in glee. “The highest it’s ever been!”

“To be fair, I did bend over the desk on purpose,” Louis’ voice comes crackling in the headphones. Harry practically breaks his neck whipping his head around at the sound of it, gaping at him through the glass panel. “You can’t really blame him for getting a little excited about that, can you?”

4.) Close to Nowhere by @angelichl (34k)

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans.

“I don’t think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don’t call me that.”

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

3.) Play Pretend, Find a Friend? by @angelichl (40k)

They had to pull back for air. Louis surveyed the guy’s face, in awe of his blown pupils and sharp jawline, the way their shared spit glistened on his lips.

“Hi,” he breathed. He blinked, and came back to himself a little bit, blushing at his own boldness. “Sorry. Is this okay?”

The stranger removed his right hand from the curve of Louis’ waist in order to cup his jaw, tilting it up to the angle he desired. He pressed their lips together, murmuring, “Definitely.” And then he kissed harder.

When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.

INSPIRED BY CLOUDS.

2.) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat by @angelichl (34k)

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

1.) All My Colours by IceQueenRia (267k)

Green… yellow… red. Red! RED!!!

Some people were born Dominant and others submissive. Sixteen year old Louis Tomlinson was a submissive and was proud to be so… until he was forced to his knees for the first time. The man before him was every subs nightmare, an abusive Dom, the kind who didn’t believe in the colour ‘red’ unless it was in the form of blood.

There were others, but Louis was the ‘favourite’ and he was the one the Dom liked to ‘play with’ the most. In fact, when the rescue team arrived, Louis was the one currently providing ‘service’ to the Dom.

Or

Louis, Zayn and Niall are abused subs. Liam Payne is their devoted new Guidance Counsellor who just wants to make Niall smile and hear Zayn speak. As for Louis, he knows his guidance won’t be enough to help the boy heal. No, Louis Tomlinson needs something very special and very specific. He needs Harry Styles.

Before October’s Gone (Mammon × reader) | songfic

Author’s note: Please do not repost!! If you like my writing, please leave a like and a comment (and follow me to see similar content in the future :D)!

Inspired by Cimorelli’s song Before October’s Gone! You can listen to it here.

One of the longer fics I’ve ever written...I hope you guys enjoy it! I worked really hard on this one :3

_____

♪ Our phone calls got shorter

And the nights they got longer

You stopped replying

And I saw you with her

You tell me you miss me

I feel special for a second

But then you turn around and show me that you didn't meant it

I listen to your voicemail from last September

And I bet that you don't remember leaving it

But it's all I got

My last piece of you ♪

“Mammon!” The chirpy voice at the other end of the line made up for the weeks that he’d missed hearing it. Curse Lucifer for implementing the stupid roster for phone calls —having to wait his turn while his brothers got to listen your cheerful voice and melodic laugh was beginning to drive him up the wall. He understood why Lucifer would have to put such a rule in place for his brothers, but surely the peacock could loosen up a little for him right? The others may be “eating up too much of their time”, but such an offensive statement could never be applied to him. After all, he was your first. “Yo! How’ve ya been? Wait, lemme guess. You’ve just been wanderin’ around in that sad, depressin’ human world with no place to go and nothin’ to do...right?”

You laugh, and his heart does a somersault in his chest. How he’s missed it. Nothing in all of the three realms could make him happier than hearing the sound of your laughter; it’s like music to his ears. Knowing that he was the one that drew such an adorable sound from your lips was the cherry on top. The first time he’d heard you giggle, he’d sprinted back to the House of Lamentation to begin devouring joke book after joke book to ensure his chances of getting to hear it again. Hearing his brothers criticize him for acting like a fool had always been something that bothered him in the past, but your arrival had put a spin on things —if amping up his antics was something that got you to crack a smile, he was all for being the butt of his brothers’ jokes. “How’d you know?”

He grins. “What did ya expect? I mean, I was your first, right? Your first demon. Which means we share a special sorta bond! I know these things!”

Another laugh. Mammon wonders if he should shoot for a third time, but you don't give him the chance to try. “Listen, Mammon...it was great hearing from you, but I have to go.” The bitter taste of disappointment fills his mouth. He’d been looking forward to this phone call with the eagerness of a child awaiting to open their Christmas presents...and you had to leave already? The two of you had barely even talked for 5 minutes! That’s so unfair! “What? Already? C’mon, we barely got to talk—”

His whine of complaint cuts off abruptly when he picks up on the sound of someone else’s voice on your end of the call. Curious, Mammon turns up the volume of the call and strains his ears. It’s a male’s voice, one that sounds awfully familiar… He frowns. “Is that Solomon?”

“Yeah! We’ve been hanging out a lot more ever since we returned to the Human World! Keeping each other company and all that. Let me just pass him my DDD, I think he wants to say hi—”

“Nah, don’t bother. Y’all have fun, I’ll talk to you again soon.” Mammon hangs up before you can get the chance to say anything else and flops back against the pillow pile on his unmade bed with a sigh. Solomon, huh? The two of you sticking together made sense —after all, you were the only two humans living in a realm of demons for an entire year. Of course you would form a bond over this shared experience. Still, the idea of you hanging out with Solomon frequently didn’t sit well with him. He was your first, if anyone should be hanging out with you, it should be him.

Envy was Levi’s thing, not his. But there was no stopping the jealousy that was blossoming in his chest. In an attempt to keep his emotions in check, Mammon powers on his DDD and pulls up the voice message that you’d left him a few months ago. You were still residing in the Devildom then, back when he didn’t have to resort to playing back an old voicemail to make him feel less lonely.

If he closes his eyes, he can almost convince himself that you’re lying in bed beside him, and not by someone else’s side an entire realm away.

♪ I heard all the rumors

I didn't want to believe it

You barely mentioned her once

I didn't think anything of it

Sitting there on my driveway

Said you could listen to me all night

Now you're the boy who never meant it

And I'm just the girl who "took it all the wrong way" ♪

You’d always been fascinated by the sports car that he kept permanently parked in the upper floor of his bedroom. The both of you had gotten into a playful argument over justifying the reason behind his “absurd decision” (your words, not his). Out of the dozens of possible reasons that they’d managed to come up with during the hour or so their discussion had lasted, your personal favourite had been “to allow a quick escape from one of Lucifer’s extensive monologues”. He hadn’t even bothered to come up with a counterargument for that. One, it wasn’t entirely false; he wouldn’t deny that getting behind the driver’s seat in order to get away from one of the peacock’s pointless lectures wasn’t a thought that had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. And secondly...the expression that you wore while you were coming up with all of these ridiculous thoughts was just too cute. Your brow would furrow in concentration, and your tongue would peek out between her lips —you looked just like the cats that starred in those “cat blepping” videos that Satan would relentlessly spam his DDD with. The way your face lit up when you’d thought of a reason satisfactory enough for your standards was even more adorable —Mammon knew that as long as you kept directing that megawatt grin at him, he’d go along with anything that you said.

At some point during their conversation, the two of you had  relocated from the couch you were perched on to the backseat of his car. Mammon doesn’t even remember whose idea it was to move in the first place —he couldn’t recall if this was the result of you pleading with him to allow you to take a better look at the vehicle or if he’d suggested it to you first. He doesn’t even remember what the both of you had talked about once you’d gotten in the car; the topic of their conversation had switched course multiple times. What was etched into his mind’s eye for the rest of time, however, was how attentively you’d gazed up at him when he was talking. You seemed as mesmerised by his words as he was by yours. The notion that someone genuinely wanted to listen to everything that he had to say felt foreign to him; his brothers had brushed him off as nonsensical and annoying a long time ago. You made him feel important.

“...Mammon! HEY, STUPIDMAMMON! Did you even hear anything I just said? Sheesh…”

Mammon’s train of thought is derailed by a pillow that hits him square in the face. Normally, such an action would trigger a rowdy pillow fight that usually ended in Lucifer barging in and bringing an early end to an evening of fun. But today Mammon was so lost in recollections of the past that he barely even kicks up a fuss as he peels the cushion off his face. “Huh?” Levi raises an eyebrow at the second born from where he’s seated across the room. Mammon could be a moron at times, but rarely was he this unaware of his surroundings. “I said, did you see MC’s latest Devilgram post? They were at this Human World anime convention with Solomon, you know the one I told you about last week? The one that Ruri-chan’s voice actress was going to appear at? MC’s soooooooo lucky that they got to see her perform live. I can’t believe Lucifer wouldn’t let me go, it’s so unfair…”

Mammon usually tuned out of the conversation entirely whenever Levi starts going off on a tangent about something related to his animes, but the mention of your name had caught his attention. You were at a convention? With Solomon? Like...on a date? Mammon snatches up his DDD from where it’s lying on the armrest of his seat and loads up your Devilgram page. As usual, the sight of your bright smile is enough to cause his heart to skip a beat —you’re so breathtakingly beautiful that it’s unfair. But the sight of the male posing beside you in the picture causes his mood to turn sour quickly. Solomon. Was that the human sorcerer’s arm around your waist?

Flipping his DDD over so that he doesn’t have to look at the screen, he sets it back down on the armrest with enough force that it actually causes Levi to cut his ramble short mid sentence. Pretending that he didn’t notice the odd look that Levi was giving him, Mammon settles back in his seat and closes his eyes.

If there was something going on between you and Solomon, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know about it.

♪ On that October night when I let you go

You didn't even try to make me stay, no

I didn't know that you could be so cold

Like the Minnesota snow

Somehow I always knew we'd end up this way

And I hope you feel happy someday

I just wanted you to open up to me

But now that's on the list of things you never did ♪

Mammon had spent the last couple of months waiting for this moment. You were back. Back in the Devildom, back in your room in the House of Lamentation, back by his side. A new semester of classes was something he’d never looked forward to in the past, but things were different this time. A new school term brought copious amounts of coursework and misery, sure, but it also brought you back to the Devildom. You’d returned from your vacation in the Human World with bright eyes and rosy cheeks, armed with souvenirs for each and every one of your favourite demons. Mammon was thrilled by the small paper bag bulging with keychains and other assorted trinkets that you’d thrusted into his hands, but the one gift that he’d appreciated the most was the warm embrace that you’d pulled him into.

The next few days pass in a blur, with Mammon still finding it difficult to believe that you’ve really returned (he has to keep pinching his arm to reassure himself that this isn’t a cruel joke that his subconscious is playing on him). He'd been there to greet you upon your arrival in the Devildom. And he’d seen you during meals and passed by you in the hallways...but he hadn’t actually gotten the opportunity to spend proper one on one time with you —you were too busy settling in and making up for lost time with everyone else. Until now. 

Seated atop of a hill overlooking the rest of the Devildom, the vantage point gives the both of you a spectacular view of the expansive shopping district. You can even spot the town’s affectionately dubbed “party central” —also known as the area where most of the popular bars and clubs are located— in the distance; or at the very least, the colourful lights that illuminate every building in that part of town. It’s quite a sight to behold, but the hustle and bustle that can be seen even from a distance makes you appreciative of the fact that you and Mammon are far away from the crowds of Denizens enjoying an evening out. You shiver when a passing gust of wind rustles the leaves of the tree overlooking the bench you’re seated on.

“Cold? Let the GREAT Mammon warm ya up.” Before you can even roll your eyes at the suggestive nature of that statement, Mammon has shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it snugly around you. Not that you’re entirely surprised by his words at this point, this isn’t the first time he used that line with you. Just like every other time he’s done this, he doesn’t remove his arm afterwards, keeping it draped around your shoulders. But unlike the previous times he’s pulled this stunt, you don’t nestle into his side, or even lean your head against his shoulder. He feels a pang in his chest, but he refuses to let it show on his face. “So how was your vacation in the Human World? I bet it had to be pretty borin’ without the GREAT Mammon there to keep ya company.”

“It was alright.” A pause. “Listen, Mammon...There’s something that I need to tell you.”

The smile that Mammon’s attempting to keep plastered to his face wavers, but he nods at you in encouragement as you chew on your lower lip anxiously. When your next course of action is to raise up your left hand instead of carrying on the conversation, his brows knit together in confusion. He’s about to ask if this was some kind of odd ritual and whether or not you’d joined a cult in your absence, but then he spots it. The glint of silver on your ring finger.

His jaw drops.

Noticing the expression on his face, you hurry to clear up any misunderstandings before he —understandably— jumps to the wrong conclusion. “It’s not what you think! I’m not engaged or anything, it’s just a promise ring. Solomon and I...we got together two weeks ago. I meant to tell everyone, but everything’s been so crazy ever since I got back —I’ve barely had the time to catch my breath, let alone make such a big announcement.. But now that thing’s have quieted down a little...I wanted to tell you first. After all, you are my first demon.”

The Avatar of Greed was uncharacteristically quiet as you rambled on. When he finally speaks up again, his voice lacks the boisterous energy that usually radiates from him. “I am, aren’t I?”

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, but there’s no humour in the sound. “You should head back to the house without me. I’ll catch up.”

“Mammon—”

“Look, don’t worry ‘bout me. I’m fine.” Mammon takes both of your hands in his and gazes up at you with earnest wide eyes, as if his overexaggerated acting skills were enough to sell his words to you. Ridiculous as it may be, his ploy seemed to work —or perhaps you just didn’t care enough about the hailstorm of emotional turmoil that flickered in his azure hued gaze. It didn’t matter. Either way, you were gone before Mammon could change his mind and convince you to not to leave him. Tears pool in the corners of his eyes and blurs his field of vision, but he doesn’t take his gaze off of you as you disappear down the path that leads to the House of Lamentation.

You don’t even bother to turn around and look at him.

♪ Maybe sometimes things just have to end

Maybe sometimes there's just no explaining it

But you could've let me know

You'd be moving on

You'd be moving on

You'd be moving on before Octobers gone ♪

Accidents Happen - Mothers, Maggots, and Manacles

Summary: Roman finally visits Remus in search of answers, and doesn’t like what he finds. Ah - if anybody is fluent in Korean and wants to correct me on anything, please do!

Content: Discussions of drug and alcohol use and misuse, some bad parenting, mentions of skipping meals

Word count: 5,433

{Part 2} {Part 4}

Janus knew Remus.

Roman didn’t remember standing up, but he was definitely glad for the fact that he was pacing. He felt that his brain was about to explode. 

Janus, the ideal student, the one with perfect grades and a small fleet of academic awards (they were in a glass-fronted cabinet in his home - Roman had seen them when he had been trying to find the toilet), who headed the debate club and had every teacher at their school eating out of the palm of his hand, knew Remus the walking hazard.

Roman turned sharply in front of his dresser, caught sight of his notebook still lying open on the bed, and scowled.

Not only did Janus know Remus, but he knew him well. Well enough, at any rate, to have Remus being the person to call if he lost his phone.

He was back beside his bedside table, turning to pace the room again.

What did that mean?

Did it mean that they spent a lot of time together? No, that couldn’t be right. Roman would know if Janus and Remus were friends. Remus had no filter, was incapable of keeping a secret - he was almost like Patton in that regard, Roman reflected. The fastest way to make sure that everybody knew something was to tell Remus or Patton. And if Remus and Janus were friends and did spend time together, why didn’t one of them say something at the trial?

Maybe Roman had typed the wrong number. He was so used to calling Remus in fruitless attempts to find out what exactly the substance in his slippers was, or whether he should be concerned about the red smudges on his brother’s door handle, that maybe he hadn’t typed the number he had thought he was typing. His fingers had fallen into a pattern they recognised, the same way his feet had done, carrying him from bed to dresser and from dresser to bed and back again.

That made sense, didn’t it?

“No! No, it doesn’t!” Roman gave his phone a vengeful glare, as though it were the one at fault here. He never dialled Remus’ phone number, preferring to do what any self-respecting person born since the invention of a contacts list did and simply stab the name he wanted to call with his forefinger.

The tips of his fingers felt stiff and tingly, and he paused by the bed to take a long, slow breath. Letting stress overwhelm him now was not going to be productive.

“Roman? Everything alright in here?” There was a soft tap at his bedroom door, and Roman had the foresight to flip his notebook to a blank page before his mother’s floral scent and tired eyes entered the room.

“I… Yes? Is something the matter, Mum?”

“I just…” She paused, covering her mouth with one hand to catch a yawn, and then continued. “Thought I heard you shouting.”

Roman winced. Had he woken her up? Dae Wang’s short hair was matted against one side of her head, and she was wearing a rumpled nightshirt and sweatpants despite it being the middle of the afternoon. “Oh… Yeah, I was just practicing for a part in the play. I know I’m not actually in it this year, but I… Enjoy being able to coach the younger students.”

The lie had rolled from his tongue almost without hesitation, and his mother’s eyes softened slightly. She reached out and ruffled his hair affectionately, and Roman batted her away automatically, the static feeling spreading up to his wrists. “Try to keep it down, Ro? I didn’t get home until around one, and I’ve got another shift this evening…”

“Sorry. Actually, I was just thinking about going for a walk - it’s such a nice day, and I can take some flashcards through the woods. Might be nice to revise with a bit of a change of scenery, huh?” More lies. Sure, Roman was used to lying a little bit, but now it felt as though every other thing that came out of his mouth was deliberate misdirection. First with Janus, and now with his parents… 

“You work so hard… I’m so proud of you, Roman.” Those were words that Roman was used to hearing; usually, he revelled in them. Now, however, they only made him feel more guilty. What about Remus? Yes, he was a screw-up, but… Roman couldn’t remember the last time either of his parents had said something positive to his brother. Worse, he couldn’t remember the last time he had said something properly positive to him.

The words were out of his mouth before he had made a proper decision about them. “Can I borrow your car tomorrow? I’d like to visit Remus.”

Dae looked at him for a second, apparently stunned by the fact that he wanted to visit his identical twin. Then she nodded slowly. “You can, but… Roman, saja saekki, are you sure you want to?”

“He hasn’t hurt me, Mum. He’s my brother.” And he shouldn’t be left to rot, Roman added silently. There’s something we don’t know yet.

“I know. You’re always so kind to people, even when they don’t deserve it, I just… I don’t want him dragging you down, Ro. He’s only going to get worse, and maybe… Maybe this is the time for a clean break for you.” Roman stared at her, the shock clear on his face. She sighed. “Being associated with Remus… It’s not going to be good for your future, is it?”

It looked as though she was waiting for him to say something now, and Roman refused to give her anything. Was this what his parents really thought of Remus? Sure, he knew that Remus had been getting into more and bigger problems as he had gotten older, but… It hadn’t quite sunk in, when they had asked Remus not to come home, that they didn’t want him to be part of their family any more.

What sort of family were they? Why hadn’t Roman tried talking Remus out of his chaos sooner, rather than pinning all of his own misdeeds on him? It felt as though his torso had been emptied out and refilled with ice cubes.

Eventually, his mother seemed to translate Roman’s silent staring as something less than what she had been hoping for. “Okay. Don’t stay too late, though. It is finals week, after all.”

Roman nodded stiffly. “Of course.”

He leaned forward to allow her to kiss his forehead, then watched her leave, numb, the breath frozen in his chest.

He needed to get out of here. All of the colours had leached out of the world around him. Usually so spacious, his bedroom seemed to have shrunk to the size of a broom cupboard, and Roman was so much too big for it, and everything inside him was threatening to brim over, to spill from his fingertips and his mouth and his eyes in a burning torrent of… Of what?

As he moved, he started counting in his head, trying to focus on just getting the numbers in the right order. One, two, three and he was groping under his mattress for his re-hidden supply of weed, purloined from the kitchen table when nobody had been looking. His parents had just been going to burn it, after all.

Four, five, six, seven, phone in his pocket and taking the stairs two at a time, eight, nine, not stopping as he grabbed Remus’ keys and threw the back door open. Ten, and he was down the steps; eleven-twelve-thirteen brought him across the backyard, and by fifteen he was in the greyscale woods behind their house and running as fast as he could.

Maybe if he ran fast enough, he could turn back the hands of the clock, back the four weeks - six weeks? How long had it been since Remus had turned his car and Janus into a fiery wreck? Turn the clock back past that, back to when things were okay. But three weeks wouldn’t do it, would it? Things hadn’t been okay for a long time before that. When was the last time he had had a real conversation with Remus?

When he hit thirty-nine, Roman skidded to an abrupt halt. Small black spots decorated the trees around him and he realised with a start that he hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning either, too preoccupied with his raging internal debate about Janus’ moral standings to feel hungry. It didn’t matter. Just then, his whole body was too frozen in black-and-white, fizzingly numb static to even think about eating. He wasn’t sure if he could even swallow just then.

Putting his back to the nearest pine and sliding to the floor, Roman took a few deep breaths to steady his hands before pulling the clear plastic bag from his pockets.

It took longer than usual to shake some of the dark flakes onto one of the small paper rectangles and roll it shut; with his numb hands, it took several tries to get a flame on the lighter attached to Remus’ keychain, and when he did manage it he burned two of his fingers before managing to light the joint. Finally, though, Roman closed his eyes and focused on inhaling, exhaling, just breathing, allowing colour to bleed first back into his own body, and then the forest floor, still strewn with pine needles from last autumn, and then back up to the blue sky. The ice in his torso warmed, thawed a little, and then melted completely as calm washed over him.

-

He didn’t talk to Janus the next day.

It was the opposite of everything he had told himself he would do yesterday, going against all of his thoughts and notes about not making Janus feel as though he had scared Roman away or that Roman was tired of him or thought he was a freak. It was the opposite of what he wanted to do, which was concerning. Maybe he was getting too close to the role he was playing, because he kept finding himself wanting to go to find Janus, to make stupid little jibes at him and watch them be passed effortlessly back to him. He even thought he might have enjoyed studying with him. No matter how much he told himself that it was just nerves, that he was just worrying that he was losing time on getting closer to whatever truth Janus had been hiding, there was a small part of Roman arguing that that wasn’t the truth.

Janus didn’t try to talk to him, either, which only reinforced his guilt.

He saw him once, on his way out of his Physics final. Janus had half raised his left hand in what could have been a nervous greeting, but dropped it when Roman caught his eye but walked passed without responding otherwise.

He felt like an arse for doing it. 

It didn’t help that he had been feeling slightly lightheaded all day. It had been hot in the exam hall, and halfway through his English paper that afternoon Roman found that he couldn’t read anything he was writing. The printed text at the top of the page had blurred into a wavy black bar, and his own ink had become a colony of spiders, crawling over the page in unintelligible shapes. He had blinked hard, then ground the bases of his palms into his eyes and counted (one, two, three… All the way up to thirty-nine). When he looked back at his paper, his handwriting had returned to its usual semi-legible scrawl.

He blamed it on the stress from his afternoon plans.

The previous evening, once he had calmed down a little, Roman had taken a long, meandering walk through the trees, pondering his situation. Eventually he had reached the conclusion that he should go ahead and visit Remus anyway, and that he could ask about Janus then. Remus wouldn’t lie to him.

Or would he? How much of his brother had become a mystery to him?

When he walked into the visitors room and saw Remus, Roman had to admit that the answer was probably a far higher proportion than he would have liked it to be. He actually had to stop and ask himself how long it had been since he had taken a good look at the man that was supposed to be his mirror reflection, because Remus looked almost nothing like him anymore.

The crooked nose was still there, and the pale scar that ran across its bridge, and the jaggedy line down one of Remus’ cheeks from a barbed-wire sledding accident, but there were other marks too, smaller but still there. Roman could count no less than seven piercing holes in Remus’ right ear (Roman’s right, Remus’ left), for example, and another in his left eyebrow. There were several acne scars that looked as though Remus had picked them until they refused to heal properly, and what looked like a burn was poking out from the next of his jumpsuit. His hands and knuckles were littered with mostly healed scabs, easy to see because they were pressed palms-down on the table, a nervous habit that Roman remembered from when they were small. Deep bags hung under Remus’ bloodshot eyes.

All in all, it was a bit of a surprise when Remus opened his mouth before Roman got a chance to say anything, and commented, “You look like shit, brother mine. Come to trade places with me?” There was another piercing hole in his tongue.

The statement startled a chuckle out of Roman, and he sat down across the table and smiled weakly at him. “I look like shit? Have you checked in a mirror lately, dude? It doesn’t look like you’ve slept since… You know.”

“Since I drove the fine piece of ass that is Janus Sinclaire into a telephone pole and turned him into crispy bacon? What’s a little more nightmare fodder, huh Ro? At least I still look like I’m getting a decent meal.” Remus cackled briefly and lifted a hand to rub at the empty shell of his pierced ear while Roman tried to figure out which part of Remus’ statement to poke at. Since when did Remus think Janus was a ‘fine piece of ass’ - since when did Remus even think about Janus? And what right did Remus have to talk about him like that, anyway?

In the end, he just blurted, “You’ve been having nightmares again?”

Leaning back in his chair so that its front legs left the ground, Remus raised an eyebrow. “That’s how it’s gonna be, huh? This is a fucking welfare check? Did the right honorable parents send you?” He lifted one hand to inspect his nails - nails that Roman could now see had been bitten until the cuticles bled. He winced.

“The right honorable… I’ll answer your questions if you’ll answer mine. You’ve been having nightmares again?” Roman had a strong feeling that he wouldn’t get anything out of his reflection unless he bribed him; his deal was met with another cackle, and Remus tipped further back on his chair.

“Fine. Want to shake on it?”

“Thanks, but I’d rather not, given the unspeakable places those hands have been. So, nightmares?”

Remus looked up from his nails, flicked his middle finger up, then turned his attention to the ceiling above them. “You know the nightmares never stopped, Ro-ro. Did the spawners send you?”

“The what? Oh - no, I’m here on my own.” Roman glanced over his shoulder briefly. There were only three other people in the visitation room - discounting the two guards, one on either door - and they were on the other side of the room. “What do you mean, never stopped? You stopped having nightmares when we were thirteen.”

He felt as though he were being watched. Was this how Remus felt all the time? No wonder his nightmares had gotten worse.

“You’re yanking my dick, right? Of course they didn’t stop. I just figured out how to stop screaming. If you’re not here for the womb and the sperm, why are you here?”

Roman wrinkled his nose at that, then shrugged. “You… Figured out how to stop screaming? How? Nothing we tried ever worked. And I’m here because I wanted to ask you some stuff.”

“About my nightmares?” The incredulity in Remus’ voice was so overdone that Roman had to laugh again.

“No, you idiot. And you didn’t answer my question.” Roman brought his thumb up to his mouth and bit down on the nail, realised what he was doing, and laced his fingers together in front of him.

Remus was still addressing his nails. “What did you want to ask me? Because I can tell you any number of better places to hide your pot - didn’t know you did that, by the way, since when? - and can probably hook you up with a cheaper dealer if that’s what you need.”

“No, that’s not - maybe a year now? Helps with the…” Roman waved a hand, and Remus nodded wisely.

“The ball-twisting stomach-gnawing digit-freezing stress-moths.”

“That’s… Not how I would have phrased it, but… Wait, why am I answering all the questions?” Remus finally looked at Roman again, meeting his look of frustration with a shit-eating grin.

“Don’t know. Why are you answering all the questions, Ro-ro?”

“Because you keep -” Roman started automatically, then clamped his mouth shut and glared.

Remus threw his head back and cackled so hard that his chair teetered precariously on its hind legs. When he finally stopped, he flicked his fingers briefly at Roman in a gesture that he took as ‘continue’. Taking a deep breath, Roman opened with the question that he had finally decided was the best one to start with.

“Did you know Janus well?”

For a heartbeat, he thought he saw Remus’ face, bold despite its scars and hollowed eyes, crease into something he didn’t recognise. Then the grin was back, and the chair was tilted so far that Remus was practically horizontal in the air, face to the ceiling.

“Alcohol. Started getting wasted.”

“What?”

“To get the screaming to stop. If I clocked out pissed, I didn’t scream. Didn’t wake up all night, actually. Did start getting headaches, felt sick all the time. It sucked. Did that for about six months, if I recall correctly, which I do, because my brain hasn’t been eaten by maggots.”

Roman was staring at his twin with his mouth hanging open. “What?”

“The nightmares, Ro-ro. To stop screaming. Is this hard for you to follow?” Remus’ head lifted to look at him, then his wild eyes shifted to something behind Roman. The front legs of his chair returned to the floor with a snap.

“I asked about Janus, Rem. The guy you just described as crispy bacon?” The words grated against Roman’s conscience. Janus deserved better than being mocked like that.

Remus nodded slowly, then continued as though Roman hadn’t said anything. “So I quit drinking myself to sleep and started trying to stay up all night instead. Did a lot of coffee. Who needs sleep, I said. Very wise, me. Started hallucinating, though. That was an interesting few days. Eventually I just collapsed, and then I started screaming again, so no go there.”

Roman groaned quietly, resigned to listening to the tangent that Remus had apparently decided was more important than Janus was. He vaguely remembered that his brother used to jump between conversations with the rapidity of a highly skilled traceur. His verbal parkour had never been anything but annoying.

“So I started playing with drugs. Nothing major, obviously. Nothing fun. Bit of weed, didn’t help at all. Sure, helped calm me down, but once I fell asleep, poof. Screaming.” Remus snapped his fingers a few times, and Roman nodded slowly.

“So then, after a lot of experimentation that didn’t -”

“Wait.” Roman held up a hand as the maths fell into place, and Remus paused obediently, tilting his head to look at him. His hand had returned to tug at his pierced ear. “You’re telling me you started drinking when you were thirteen?”

Remus gave him a look that he recognised as one Janus had given him several times. It said “You’re not really the brightest here, but that’s alright, I’m still fond of you.” Actually, it probably said “You’re a fucking idiot, but I tolerate you.” When he spoke again, his voice reminded Roman very faintly of the sound a thin sheet of ice across a pond makes when it gets trodden on.

“Yes. Keep up, Roman. Sheesh. As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted, I eventually found that Xanax works fairly well for me - no hangovers, no puke, no spikes through my skull or pissing blood, and no screaming. Just nightmares and sleep paralysis, but y’know, I was getting more sleep.”

“Xanax,” Roman repeated stoically. “Where did you-” His question was interrupted as Remus steamrollered on.

“Then I got here, and obviously they don’t let us screw around with that stuff without a prescription, so I’m back to the old scream’n’stay-awake-’til-morning routine. Happy?” Remus tilted his chair back, seemed to remember that he wasn’t supposed to, and compromised by tilting it sideways instead. He allowed a couple of seconds to pass before raising an eyebrow at Roman. “Or are you just going to leer? You a gargoyle now?”

Shaking himself, Roman rubbed a hand through his hair and glanced at the clock. It was later than he had thought it was, and he was certain that visiting hours were going to be over soon. Licking his lower lip, he nodded slowly, then shook his head. “Happy, no. You should’a said something, Rem? We could have…”

“Could have done what?” The brittle quality was still there, but now Remus’ voice was sharper, colder. Roman knew he had said the wrong thing. “Could have helped? Found some pill that would’ve lobotomized me so I’m just a cud-muching sheep?” There was another crack as Remus’ chair legs returned to the ground, and then his palms were pressed to the table once more. He was leaning forwards, voice so low Roman had to crane his neck to hear it, and for the first time Roman actually saw a shadow of something truly frightening on Remus’ face. “Our parents were too busy wondering where they went wrong with me and rewarding you for being perfect. Too busy trying to erase me from our fucked-up family. And you were too busy letting them, getting me to take your falls for you, using me to wipe away all the shit stains on your perfect little bubble. And look where I am now! Just where you always expected me to end up. So fuck off with your empty regret, Ro. I don’t expect anyone from our house to help me, got it?”

Remus’ voice cracked on the last word, and he jerked to his feet, one hand rising to scrub roughly across his dark eyes. “We’re done here. Fuck off.” A guard had started moving toward them the moment he had stood.

Roman stood as well, expression frozen to one between shock and horror, something hot and painful rising in his throat. It wasn’t vomit - he’d been too stressed to eat lunch. “Remus, I…”

“Save it,” his twin snapped. The guard was right beside them now, ready to escort Remus away again, and Roman had no idea how to make anything right. “And Roman?”

His heart rose, but his hopes were dashed almost immediately by the raw expression on Remus’ face. “Leave Jan alone.”

-

Roman spent almost thirty minutes just sitting in the parking lot, racking sobs forcing their way from his body. He wasn’t even sure who he was crying for, only that the emotions were going to force themselves from his chest whether he liked it or not. It was probably safer not to drive and cry so hard the world was blurry around him.

He could have been crying for Remus as he had been, thirteen and aware that their parents had chosen Roman as their favourite, wracked by nightmares and trying to teach himself to stay silent at night to avoid disturbing anybody, repeatedly told that he was a bad kid until he truly became one.

He could have been crying for his own blindness, his refusal to see that he was trading Remus’ pain for his every time he was too panicked to own up to his own wrongdoings, the damage he had done to their relationship - the damage that Remus had pretended he hadn’t minded. Why? Why hadn’t he said something?

He could have been crying for their parents, not sure what to do with a son that skipped school and went shoplifting, drinking, setting things on fire, foulmouthed and reckless, their confusion turning to regret and then something approaching neglect.

He could have been crying for Janus, eighteen and burned, his once honey-like voice raspy and hoarse. It hurt for Janus to swallow now - he had noticed it over the last few weeks, the slight wince after every bite.

He could have been crying for Remus as he was now, just as lost as he had been at fifteen, at thirteen, at ten, but now his pain was manifesting in bigger and bigger disasters. Remus, the scape-goat, who didn’t trust their parents, who didn’t trust him.

It wasn’t as though he deserved Remus’ trust, though. As far as his twin knew, Roman would probably have taken the trust Remus placed in him and turned it into more ammunition to make himself seem ever closer to heaven and demonise Remus even further.

No - no, he shouldn’t be crying for Janus. It had taken him until now, but as Roman’s sobs finally subsided he realised that he did recognise the expression that had passed over his brother’s face when he had asked about Janus.

It was fear.

Remus was… Remus was afraid of Janus. (Roman hadn’t thought that Remus was afraid of anything - but he clearly didn’t know his brother at all anymore.) What could Janus have done to inspire fear in somebody as wild, as dangerous, as bold and brash and reckless as Remus?

But if Remus had done what he had out of fear of Janus doing something worse, an attempt to be free of him, why hadn’t he at least spoken up at the hearing? Janus couldn’t have hurt him from all the way across a courtroom.

The answer came to Roman as a cold fist around his heart, the icy fingers making him gasp in shock. That was why Remus was so afraid - “Leave Janus alone”, he had said. Leave Janus alone, because Janus was holding something over him, and whatever it was could ruin Remus for good. 

Janus was blackmailing his twin, and Roman wasn’t going to stand by and let it happen now that he knew.

No, Janus didn’t deserve his tears. Janus deserved everything he had gotten, and more, and Roman was going to make sure that karma was delivered right to his door.

-

When he got home that evening, he found that somebody had left a voicemail on his phone (he had left it in his room, not needing it while he was visiting Remus). He thought he knew who it was even before the worm-ridden chainsaw-murderer voice curled into the room with him.

“Hey, Roman. Didn’t see you much at school today. Uh.”

A second of silence, as though Janus was awkwardly trying to work out what to say. Masterful. Janus had played him like a master. 

“We were both pretty busy, I guess.”

Another pause. How had Janus gotten his number? Maybe he was blackmailing Virgil, too, and had forced him to give it over. (Or he could just have asked. Virgil probably had Roman’s number, and would probably just hand it over for a price.)

“Anyway, I was wondering if you’d… Um, want to do something on Friday. Y’know, to celebrate the end of finals, and… Stuff. Not much point us revising once the exams are done, eh, Princey?”

The nervous, teasing tone was making Roman’s teeth grate. I’m coming for you, you snake. You viper.

“We could… See a movie, or something. Or just hang out. Pat gave me the recipe for his toffee cookies, we could try making them!”

Yet another pause. Roman wanted to throw his phone across the room - but if Janus was asking to see him, that probably meant that he didn��t know that Roman was onto him, and that he was going to continue his sinister plans. Only now, Roman knew what was going on.

Janus’ voice lost it’s jovial quality, becoming possibly slightly sad. There was a chance that he was a better actor than even Roman. “Of course… If you don’t want to, that’s… I mean, I know yesterday wasn’t ideal. I’m… Really sorry you had to see that. If you don’t want to hang around me now, that’s… That’s okay.” There had even been a slight hitch in his breathing as he spoke, as though the idea of not talking to Roman anymore had pushed him to the verge of tears. He really was putting on a whole performance for him, wasn’t he?

“Um, anyway. Call me, or… Whatever. Text. Leave me a note, stalk me to my locker. Or don’t, if you’d rather not. I won’t bother you if you don’t want to see me anymore. Um. I’m going to hang up now. Oh - this is Janus, by the way, but I… I’d hope you’d already figured that out now. It just occurred to me that you probably didn’t have my number. Yeah. I’m hanging up.”

The call lasted for another few seconds, the only sound being Janus’ breathing - which Roman suddenly noticed had a laboured quality to it, the breaths sounding dry and scratchy. Then there was a click, and the automated voice asking Roman if he wanted to delete the message.

Well, then. He should get back to work. He wouldn’t mention having visited Remus to Janus - not yet, anyway - just in case he went ahead with whatever threat he had hanging over him, but he could make up some excuse for why he had all but ignored Janus that day. As much as he wanted to slam Janus against the wall the next time he saw him, hold him there by the front of his shirt and force him to explain, to apologise, to leave him and his brother alone, he couldn’t do that, either.

If Janus already wanted to hang out on Friday, he probably wouldn’t mind if Roman suggested they did something. Now that he knew just how evil Janus was, Roman pushed away shrieks and squeals from his moral compass with almost no regret. All he had to do was get Janus to talk, hopefully enough to get something on him to make him drop his case against Remus - and whilst Janus was usually so guarded with his words, Roman knew a way to get people to relax. There was nothing to feel guilty about, he told himself firmly. It wasn’t like he’d force Janus to do anything, of course - he wasn’t going to stoop to his level. He’d just mention that the woods were a good place to smoke and blow off some steam, and invite Janus to join him.

<Friday sounds great! Could go for a walk through the woods - I know a few neat places. Sorry about today, been really stressed lately, shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Don’t worry about yesterday, no biggie.>

<Sent 19:36>

It had taken him a while to compose the text; when he was finished, he threw his phone back on his bed and went downstairs to have dinner with his parents. They had already removed Remus’ chair from the circular dining table: it was sitting out in the hallway, holding his dad’s briefcase and his mum’s coat, and the remaining chairs had been arranged in a triangle. Neither of his parents asked how his visit to Remus had been - in fact, Remus wasn’t mentioned at all. Already, it was as though he may as well not exist.

Janus had done this, Roman told himself, and that fact did something to calm the slimy ball of worms writhing inside him. Yes, he had contributed, but it had been Janus who had dealt the final blow to erase his twin from their lives. Janus was going to pay, and Roman would spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to Remus.

Taglist:

@bloodymari-0666

first off, major apologies for not answering this in a more timely fashion! I hope you stayed safe out there, anon.

y’all know I’m terrible with asks but I’m genuinely not sure how I managed to miss this one. I’m gonna answer it even though some time has elapsed because lbr, this stuff isn’t going away anytime soon.

there are a lot of great resources out there with advice about the more dangerous (and topical) aspects of protesting, so instead of getting into that, I’m gonna link some here:

Protesters’ Rights (ACLU)

Safety During Protests (Amnesty International)

Safe Protesting Infographic (AOC)

Dealing with Tear Gas (Occupy Wall Street)

Useful Apps for Protesters (Allure)

Protesting During a Pandemic (LiveScience)

with that covered by the experts, I’m gonna focus on some of the more practical, basic stuff I’ve learned over the years.

G’s tips for attending protests

Use the buddy system. I can’t stress this enough. I strongly advise you not to go to any protest alone, especially if it’s on a larger scale or if you know there’s going to be police presence. Whether it’s a friend, a relative, or someone you trust whom you’ve met through activism, make sure there’s someone with you who knows you, including any medical conditions you have—you’re basically each other’s emergency contact for the day. Decide in advance on a rendezvous point in case you get separated from them. I’ve heard of instances where having a “protest buddy” and asking to stay with them was the difference between getting arrested and thrown in a van vs. being issued a citation and then left alone.

^that’s my sister’s hand holding the sign in the foreground. buddy system!

tons more under the cut!

Don’t rely on your phone. Depending on the size and density of your protest, service may be spotty or data may stop working entirely in some areas. Don’t expect to navigate with GPS, or be able to text/call your group if you get separated. Consider leaving your phone at home or in the car. There are reports of phones being tracked by police in some places, and it’s always possible it’ll get confiscated if you’re detained. If you do bring a phone, I suggest turning off location services.

ok so I don’t always take my own advice

Know the rules and goals for your particular protest. These can vary between locations and organizations, so don’t assume you already know. For example, at most DC protests, only clear backpacks are allowed, and signs may not have wooden sticks or anything that could be used as a weapon. Does everyone follow these rules? Nope—and I rarely see them enforced! But it’s a case of “better safe than sorry.” Don’t give the cops any excuse whatsoever to detain you.

this is a great sign, but I would never carry it using a plank like this

Knowing a protest’s goals and purpose is also important. I read an article last week about a DC BLM event where people were dancing in the street, essentially having a party. The article painted it as though these idiot protestors had shown up and then gotten distracted and stopped taking their movement seriously. But I remembered the same event differently (having both read about it in advance and passed by it on the day of.) What was actually happening was that it was one of several concurrent events—protests, marches, vigils—and this one’s specific goal was to create a safe and positive space for black people to celebrate their blackness. It was supposed to be a party, a form of self-care so that people who’d been suffering could decompress and uplift each other. No one there had lost sight of the movement.

Ideally, find the organizers and follow them on social media! Most organizers are great at breaking down the rules and expectations for a particular protest.

Know your limits—and those of the others in your group—and plan accordingly. Have realistic expectations for how far you’re going to be able to push yourself, physically and otherwise. Do you have chronic pain, or a bad foot? Find somewhere to park yourself early on in the day so you don’t end up walking miles and miles. Is someone in your group claustrophobic? Hang back at the edge of things, or find a high wall to sit on so they aren’t engulfed by crowds. It’s easy to think of protesting as some sort of grand sacrifice where you have to push yourself really hard to prove your commitment to the movement, but you’re not gonna help anyone by collapsing from heat exhaustion. Take breaks, and stay safe, fed, and hydrated. Practice self-care.

Pack light—or heavy, depending on your goals. Unless you’re going to be passing out supplies, I suggest packing light. Invest in a water bottle carrier with a strap, or a fanny pack, or a platypus. Wear something with big pockets, so you can avoid bringing a bag or backpack if possible. It’s especially useful to have your hands free if you’re planning to carry a sign!

my usual protest packing list:

phone (highly optional; see above)

cash (enough to buy a meal, take public transportation, etc)

keys (key singular, actually. I take the one I need off my keychain and leave the others behind.)

metro card

ID

water

energy bar

meds (in my case, a sudafed and an ibuprofen)

I can fit all of this into my pockets except a water bottle. I don’t even bring a wallet.

Conversely, you can take the opposite approach and pack heavy, in order to be super prepared or pass out supplies to others. One of my friends brings a backpack with a sign on it that reads “I HAVE: WATER, SNACKS, TYLENOL, TAMPONS, SUNSCREEN...ASK ME FOR WHAT YOU NEED!” At the most recent BLM protest I attended, there were people passing out everything from water bottles to pizza to masks to whiskey. But every protest is different! Don’t count on any supplies to be easily available. If you need it, bring it.

the empty pizza box on the right says “come make a sign here.”

Know your surroundings, and pay attention. This is a big one. I don’t mean that you should never attend a protest somewhere you’ve never been before, but I suggest doing some research if you do. Know where you’re going and when, know the street closures and the path of any marches, know the nearest metro/subway stops and whether they’re going to be open on the day of. Especially know if there’s anywhere you aren’t allowed to be. For example, when protesting at the NRA's headquarters, you can’t step off the sidewalk or you’ll be on their property, and then you can be arrested for trespassing.

Pay attention to signs, traffic patterns, and especially police presence. The other day I noticed that although the police and the National Guard were unarmed as the mayor had promised they would be, the DEA was also present, and they absolutely were armed.

Another part of knowing your surroundings is knowing where relief areas are. If it’s a big enough event, businesses, churches, and even places like theaters will open their doors to protestors to use their bathrooms, charge phones, and rest somewhere with AC. Social media usually has this information if you know where to look for it—check local activist blogs. For my DC folks, check Popville.

On a related note, know which businesses do and don’t support the movement! You don’t wanna wind up buying lunch at a place that gives free meals or discounts to police. Look for places that offer discounts or deals to protesters. For example, in 2018 both Cava and Shake Shack offered discounts for March for Our Lives protesters. Guess where I ate lunch and dinner that weekend? Chains like those ones usually make the news, and local businesses will often put up signs in support of movements to let protesters know they are welcome.

there’s lots more I could say, but the tl;dr version is

keep yourself and others safe.

feel free to chime in if you have something to add/if I missed anything!

Ch 10 So You Wanna Spin

Max swings open the bright red motel door with a welcome door knocker with an orange chili pepper wearing a sombrero on it. His eyes try to make sense of what he is seeing and he loses his grip on his suitcase in surprise. The room is a lot. Liz’s mouth gapes open as she takes in the shades of white, red, orange and yellow in chili peppers on every visible surface- from the carpet to the wall paper to the comforter on the bed.

Max takes a tentative step into the room and a few chords of a popular Red Hot Chili Peppers song ring out. “What the heck?” Max looks around, confused. He takes a step back into the cement hallway, then a steps forward back into the room.

“Give it away, give it away, now!” The Red Hot Chili Peppers ring out once again and Liz giggles.

“The room is trying to give us a hint.” Liz smirks at Max, rolling her pink suitcase into the room. It is the ugliest thing she has ever seen and she is absolutely obsessed with the dedication it took to make it look that way. Not one object in the room isn’t pepper themed.

“Do you think all the rooms are like this? Surely they have multiple sets of pepper sheets” Max eyes the motel sheets worriedly. He usually stays at much nicer hotels.

“Que demonios? Does it smell like enchiladas in here to you?” Liz sniffs the air absolutely convinced she can smell grilled chili peppers. She follows the scent to the bathroom, which is just as covered in peppers from the tiles to the toilet seat. “I found the smell! There’s a Tex Mex scented candle in the bathroom.” Liz calls out to Max.

“They just left that lit? That’s a fire hazard.” Max answers her, concerned. He hopes this place is up to fire code.

“Don’t worry, I blew it out Grandpa.” Liz sasses him from the other room, a little disoriented by all the colors and patterns mixed together in the bathroom.

“You tease but candles are a leading cause of house fires, Liz.” Max shakes his head. “So, our best hope for finding an open tire shop is in the morning since they are all closed. What do you want to do for dinner? I can let you go crazy in that sketchy vending machine we passed outside or we can see if the bar across the street has food?”

Liz comes out of the bathroom, coiling her long dark hair up into a bun and back down again. “Let’s try the bar across the street. All bars have wings and burgers, right? The snacks in that vending machine are probably as old as this carpet.”

“You’re not wrong.” Max laughs before turning serious. “Hey, don’t let me get drunk. I don’t want to fall on this psychedelic carpet when we come back.” He gestures at the black, orange and yellow carpet with a mirage that makes it look like there are 3D red jalapenos flying across the floor.

—————————————

The Mineshaft Tavern is a rowdy panhandling pioneer themed dive bar covered in a smoky haze. Like most small towns, the locals can still smoke inside. In the background, there are off key locals singing karaoke on stage over crackling speakers.

“Oh, Max, karaoke might be fun!” Liz looks up at Max imploringly and he avoids her doe eyed trap.

“Let’s see if we can find something to eat first” He half smiles down at her hoping she forgets about the idea, heading for an empty wooden table that is probably older than they are.

A middle aged brunette waitress comes over and sets down two menus with jaunty gold toothed panhandlers on the cover. “Hi, I’m Lisa. How can I get you started?”

“We need two shots of top shelf tequila and two waters, please.” Liz beams at the waitress. After the waitress walks off to get their orders, she explains to Max, “Tequila will replace the electrolytes you lost sweating in the heat.”

“I’m not sure that’s true, Liz. Alcohol dehydrates the body.” Max raises an eyebrow at her. Liz is the smartest person he knows but everyone who lives in the desert knows to watch their alcohol intake around the heat.

“Sure, if you drink the whole bottle. The lime and salt have electrolytes too. Who’s the scientist here?” Liz smiles at the waitress as she sets down their drinks.

“You are.” Max rolls his eyes goodnaturedly. “I don’t really drink liquor.”

“Give me your wrist.” Liz instructs him sternly. Max looks at her confused, but doesn’t hesitate to slide his arm palm up across the table towards her. When he gets close enough, Liz lifts his large wrist with her small hand towards her face. Waiting until Max looks into her eyes, she licks a line along the seam of his wrist, tasting the salt of his skin and his cologne. At his gasp of surprise, she smiles, bringing his arm gently back to the table to sprinkle salt where she just licked.

Liz extends her arm across the table in invitation and Max follows suit, gently cradling her much smaller wrist in his large hand as he brings it up to his lips. He nips her wrist softly once, before running his tongue along the inside of her wrist and returning her arm to the table. Based on how flushed she is, it effects Liz as much as it effected him. Max sprinkles salt across her wet skin then waits for further instructions.

Liz leans down and licks the salt from Max’s skin, her long dark hair briefly covering her face before taking her shot. She watches him lick the salt from her skin and take his own shot before placing a lime in her mouth. Gesturing to come closer, Liz waits for Max to come share the lime.

Surprising her, Max cups her cheeks and pulls her closer, pecking her lips before slipping his tongue inside. He pulls back with the lime, smirking at her as he settles back in his seat and sets the lime next to his water glass. Liz looks a little dazed after their kiss.

Max clears his throat. “So what are you going to order?”

“Hmm?” Liz looks up at him confused. She was daydreaming about doing another one of those shots.

“I’m thinking about getting a burger, although you can never go wrong with wings.” Max looks from one item to the other. If he orders the burger with the fried egg and bacon on it, Liz will just tease him for eating a heart attack with a bun. But if he orders the one flame rated barbecue wings, Liz will think he’s a wuss. He will get all the spicy he needs from kissing her after whatever terrifying concoction she orders.

“I’m going to get these fire loco wings. They claim no one can handle them but I’ve been eating spicy since I was a toddler so I think I’ll be alright. There’s no way they compare to Papi’s diablo sauce.” Liz closes her menu decisively.

—————————————

“I can’t believe I got you to do karaoke!” Liz bounces happily across the dusty white rock parking lot back towards their motel room.

“You hypnotized me with your Bambi eyes and tequila. I had no chance.” Max pouts before perking right back up. “We sounded just like Rachel and Finn on Glee.”

“I didn’t know you watched that show. No wonder you suggested ‘Don’t Stop Believing’” Tequila makes Liz bouncy and she’s practically skipping to keep up with Max’s longer legs.

“You can’t tell anybody but I watch it with my sister sometimes.” Max tells her, completely serious. In high school, his sister tried to create a Glee club at their private school but there were so few students that it was practically just the two of them singing songs at assemblies. He makes a mental note to have Noah hide all the evidence of that ever happening before Liz comes over for family dinner.

“I promise, I won’t. Besides,” Liz pokes Max’s side playfully and he jumps a little because he’s ticklish in that spot. “I think it’s sexy that you’re so close with your family.”

Max smiles lopsidedly at her, pulling out the sparkly jalapeño keychain as they approach their room. Swinging open the door, they are once again overwhelmed by the decor.

“Why would someone put a bright illusion carpet in a room across the street from a bar?” Liz muses, feeling a little disoriented by the flying jalapeno illusion.

“Don’t worry. I’ll carry you across it to safety.” Max bends down, offering Liz a piggyback ride. They’re only a little bit tipsy so she doesn’t see the harm in hopping up onto his back.

Max rises up with Liz on his back and steps across the threshold, startling as the bouncy Red Hot Chili Peppers song rings out. Then he has trouble finding his footing due to the busy carpet and finds himself swaying with Liz on his back. “I’m going down, Liz!” He warns, rolling over to cushion her fall on the way down as she squeals from the sudden drop.

Liz stares down at Max, catching her breath. “You okay? We probably shouldn’t spend prolonged time on this carpet. It’s seen things.”

“Oh my god, Liz, I dropped you! I’m so sorry.” Max kisses her left eye, then her right eye, then her nose. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, you cushioned my fall.” Liz rests her forehead on his, her breath brushing his cheek each time she exhales.

“Then I’m okay.” Max’s voice softens like it does when he is asking her something personal. It’s his Liz Voice. “Do you want to get ready for bed or…”

“I definitely think we should go to bed. I don’t want to wait anymore, Max.” Liz looks down at him nervous he will find a reason to delay things once again.

Max looks up at Liz relieved they are having the same thought. “Me neither.” He clears his throat, a bit choked up before rumbling out a joyful laugh. “I consent. I’m going to eat you out until you’re begging to ride me.”

Liz gasps and pushes back, brushing against his growing erection. For a second, Max thinks he has said something wrong until he realizes she has a coy smile and she brushes against his erection again. “Not on this dirty carpet though.”

“What carpet? Oh! Oh.” Max realizes he is laying across a carpet from the 70s that would definitely light up bright blue with a black light and sits up quickly. Liz wraps her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. She clings to his torso like a koala as he stands up from the carpet, heading to the much less shady looking white and jalapeno printed bed set.

When he is over the bed and it is safe, he drops Liz playfully and she hits the bed with a bounce and a squeal. They kiss furiously, all tongues and wet and teeth until Max suddenly pulls back breathing heavily. “I need to be naked with you.”

“Si” Liz agrees, whipping her pink top up over her head and tossing it at Max.

He growls at her, trying to pull his navy button up over his head before it gets stuck on his ears. Liz pulls his shirt back down and his mouth back to hers, getting to work on unfastening the buttons on his shirt. Max runs his hands down her sides, gripping two handfuls of ass and pulling her closer to grind against each other in their jeans.

Liz bites her lip and looks up at him through her lashes, unbuttoning the top button of his jeans and sliding the zipper down. Max toes off his boots and shucks off his jeans, leaving them in a forgotten pile on the floor. He crawls back onto the bed in just his black boxer briefs, tattoos on full display.

He climbs on top of Liz and nibbles his way up her neck, his hands deftly undoing the four button closure of her jeans in between them. She smells like vanilla, desert rose and something spicy and he is completely intoxicated by it. She wiggles out of her jeans and looks up at him through her long dark lashes, feeling the significance of the moment.

Liz nips along the edge of his jaw, running a small hand along his abdomen towards his boxers.

“Not yet.” Max chastises her, stopping her hand at his navel with his own larger one.

Liz flops back onto the pillows in frustration, hooking her legs around Max’s waist trying to pull him closer. “What’s the problem?”

“I want to savor you. I’ve wanted this a long time.” Max allows her to pull him in between her legs, then holds himself up above her like he is doing a pushup above her. Liz grunts at him in frustration and he laughs, rolling his hips against her center one time. He nuzzles into her  neck, breathing in the salt of her skin. “How did you get this scar?” He whispers, running his tongue along a 1” scar along her neck.

“My sister was really manic and accidentally stabbed me.” Liz runs a nail along Max’s side inspecting one of his tattoos.

“That tattoo is from my 21st birthday. I got very drunk and woke up with that. That’s why I don’t often drink liquor. Now, can you stop being sassy and let me make love to you for at least an hour?” Max pecks Liz’s lips, raising an eyebrow at her in challenge.

Liz raises an eyebrow back at him. “You think you’re going to last for an hour?”

“I’ve been trying not to touch you every day for over a month while working in close proximity to you. I plan on dragging this out for hours.” He kisses her again before she can think up a comeback, their tongues stroking against each other. He can’t get enough of the way she tastes of the way her body feels underneath his.

They kiss, separating long enough for Liz to whip off her bra so quickly that Max almost wonders if it is magic. The last time he saw her topless and laid out before him was at the convention where they met. He wasn’t sober enough to fully appreciate the view like he does now, and he swears he will never take her body for granted again.

Max cups her breasts, perky and the perfect size to fit in the palm of his hand with her mauve nipples peaking as the hotel AC clicks on. He circles them with his thumbs and pushes them together, nuzzling into the valley between them.

“You’re so fucking luscious.” Max bites the swell kissing one and then the other, savoring the salty taste of her skin before taking her right nipple into his mouth and sucking on the tender flesh.

Liz gasps and arches, her fingers combing through his dark waves and latching on to pull his head closer. Max traces the nipple with his tongue and scrapes along the tip with his teeth, smiling when Liz’s fingernails dig into his scalp as a warning.

“It’s payback time, Elizabeth.” Max smolders down at her.

“For what?” Liz asks breathlessly, her fingers gently running through his hair as he begins licking the left breast.

“For weeks of short pencil skirts, looking like a librarian fantasy in my cruiser and smelling like heaven but not being allowed to touch you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. I haven’t masturbated this much since I hit puberty, Liz.” Max sucks the other nipple roughly, nipping her hard enough to make her gasp.

“So you’re going to punish my nipples because you got chafed? You tortured me too, you know.” Liz’s eyes are on Max’s mouth where he has pulled back, close but no longer touching her. She can feel his breath washing across her wet skin.

“You got yourself off when you went home? How often?” Max rolls her nipple between his fingers while he waits on her to answer him.

“Every night.” Liz admits, avoiding his eyes and suddenly feeling vulnerable.

“What did you think about while you got yourself off, Liz?” He needs this to be the same on both sides, for her to have been going crazy not being able to touch him either.

Her cheeks are flush before finally she admits, “You.”

“Jesus. I can’t wait to hear you begging me to let you come.” Max starts sucking her nipple again, and Liz drags her nails along the back of his skull causing a shot of icy heat to run down his spine.

Max settles between her legs and they shamelessly make out, rubbing against each other. Liz manages to wiggle her fingers down the back of his boxer briefs, nails biting into his ass and knees pressed against his ribs. Max feels like his brain is completely rebooting from all of the contact, which is crazy because he is hardly a virgin but the things this woman does to him are unreal.

Liz’s hand is on the move again and suddenly her warm fingers wrap around his hard cock. Max groans and thrusts into her hand seeking friction. Liz tilts her hips down, providing wiggle room for her fingers which slide further into his pants. Nipping the edge of his jaw, she asks. “You know what I think?”

“Hm?” Max answers, lifting his hips to give her more room to explore.

“Before you fuck my pussy, I want you to fuck my hand.” Max’s cock kicks in her hand at the idea as her fingers glide along the shaft. “And my mouth, of course.”

“Jesus christ, Liz.” Max has taken the Lord’s name in vain more times in 5 minutes in bed with Liz than he has in his entire life and he can’t seem to stop himself. Maybe taking the edge off is a good idea. Then his mind will be clear to dish out more to Liz when it is his turn.

He rolls onto his back and Liz straddles his thighs in just her black thong, long black hair cascading down her back and curling in waves around her nipples. She places a palm on the center of his chest, mouth hovering just over his. She sucks his bottom lip and slips her hand inside his boxers, pulling his cock out.

Sitting up, she rubs her thong covered sex along his shaft, and they both gasp at the feeling of just being separated by thin fabric. On the next stroke forward, Liz slides his cock under the crotch of her panties so he’s gliding across  her  most sensitive bare skin.

“Oh fuck, Liz.” Max’s eyes roll up and his erection jumps in her hand as the head glides past her clit. He holds onto her thighs trying to hold on to his last shred of control.

“Don’t come yet if you want my mouth on you.” Liz warns him and Max lets her torture him. He lays back and enjoys the view as she shifts to kneel between his thighs, naked apart  from her panties which are askew from their grinding.

She wraps one hand around his shaft and cups his balls with the other and bows forward. Her eyes stay on Max as her tongue drags from the base of his shaft to the ridge. She lets out a breath and presses a kiss to the tip.   Her dark hair cascades across his   thighs and she places wet open mouthed kisses along his shaft. She takes him a few inches then suddenly pops off, the AC hitting his wet sensitive skin.

“Hey, Max?” Liz purrs at him.

Max grunts a response because he isn’t sure he is capable of speaking right now.

“Can you hold this for me so it’s not in the way? Please?” Liz wraps her long hair up into a loose ponytail and Max quickly replaces her hands with his so he can get her mouth back on him again. He is happy to help.

Liz grins against the head of his erection, thinking she has him right where she wants him. Max wraps her hair once around his wrist to make sure it is completely out of her way and Liz takes him back into her mouth. She teases him, not allowing him in very deep and just sucking the tip of his erection before Max finally has enough and growls.

Liz pulls him in deeper, bracing her weight on his thighs. “I’m going to come soon, Liz.” Max warns her, thrusting up experimentally. When Liz groans at him controlling her movement, he does it again. “Liz, I’m gonna…” He warns her again, his eyes rolling up in the back of his head when she takes him deeper instead of pulling away as he comes.

As soon as he regains control of his mind and his body, Max grabs Liz by the waist and flips her onto her back. He captures her swollen, wet lips and sweeps his tongue inside kissing her.   She tries to wrap her legs around his waist and rub on him again but he shifts so his legs are bracketing hers and sits down on her thighs to keep them tight together preventing any friction.

“Oh, no you don’t. It’s my turn and I have weeks of torture to make up for.”

Choose Your Spice- Claude/Felix love triangle

NOTE: This is my first time writing a multi-chapter story, but I was inspired by my love for both cold to warm romances and the flirty, "but you've changed me," relationships. I may be slow updating, but let me know how you like the story so far. I hope you all enjoy.

Sunlight shined on Claude's face making the caramel glow of his skin intensify. He wore a black sweatshirt and dark blue skinny jeans. Sure it was a little warm, but he knew that it was a "look."

He sat on the lawn outside of his dorm room while his forest green eyes peered over the lens of his sunglasses, toward the walking path.

"Hey, loser!" a loud, slightly shrill voice yelled.

"Hilda, how many times do I have to tell you? Projection isn't cute," Claude cooed, patting the spot next to him.

Her pink pigtails bounced up and down with her shoulders as she left out a loud, "Hmph." She set down her backpack and joined her friend on the ground, ruffling his short chestnut hair. "What are you doing out here? You missed Lorenz practically drooling over Professor Manuela in Music Theory."

"I'd rather stay away from him, thanks. Anyways, I'm playing a game."

"What game?"

"I watch people who walk down the path," Claude gestured widely in front of him, "Then, I guess their name, major and life goal based solely on their appearance."

"That's swallow and dumb."

"So, you're in?"

"...You go first."

Claude took a long look at the students walking, waiting to find someone who stuck out to him.

Too plain. Too obvious. Too easy. Claude's eyes lit up when a perfect pupil appeared. "You see that girl in the big sweater and Adidas shorts?"

Hilda turned in his direction, skeptically, "Yeah?"

"Her name is probably Savannah, she loves animals, so I'm guessing she's a Pre Vet major and her life goal is to… save the turtles," Claude said, reaching his hands up and then crossing them behind his head.

Hilda raised her eyebrow, "And what exactly gave you that impression?"

"Well, for starters, she has a keychain of a turtle hanging off her backpack," he pointed to the dangling charm, "And her sweater is from a Vet place nearby. Also, I think she looks like a Savannah."

Hilda wasn't convinced, "You're terrible at this."

"Then, you do it."

"Fine," Hilda began to search through the crowd while she stuck her tongue out in mock concentration.

"That guy, there, in the blue shirt, jeans and a ponytail."

"The one who looks like Sasuke from Naruto?"

Her head swiveled back, "Who?"

Claude sighed, "Go on."

"His name is Felix, he is a business major, and his goal in life is to be the best businessman ever to exist."

"No way. How would you get that out of such a boring outfit?"

"Don't believe me," Hilda winked, "Ask him."

Always willing to call someone out on their bullshit, Claude stood up, dusted himself off, and strolled over to 'Felix.'

"Hey, Felix!"

The man turned around, revealing an annoyed face and sharp eyes, "What do you want?" Except he said it less as a question and more like a warning to get out of his face.

Instead of being turned off, Claude smile grew, "So me and my friend were talking-"

"Great," Felix cut Claude off, "so what does that have to do with me?"

"Let's start again. I'm Claude," he stuck out his hand.

"Felix, but you already knew that. Is there something you needed? Cause if not, I've got a class to go to," Felix responded cooly.

"You know what, nevermind," Claude started backing away, "I wish I could say it was a pleasure."

"Tck, whatever."

Claude walked back to Hilda, whose face was now red with laughter, "I fucking told you so."

"How did you meet a man that charming?" Claude grimaced, not quite know what exactly just happened.

"Oh, he's in my 'Intro to Statistics' class, and we had an icebreaker today. Let's say he 'brought down the mood,'" Hilda frowned and then giggled. "You should've seen your face when he turned around. Maybe next time you'll believe me."

Claude shook his head, "The day I take you at your word is the day I've lost my mind. Listen, I've gotta get to class, but wanna get dinner tonight?"

"Oh? You don't have a date tonight? Has your social life taken a downturn?"

"Oh, Hilda, I'm not Sylvain. I do pick and choose who I spend my nights with," Claude leaned down and offering a hand to help her up, "You just so happen to be my only option."

Swatting his hand away, Hilda stood up and then punched him in the arm.

"Ow!"

"That was a warning. See you around, Claudy."

With that, Claude was left along with his thoughts. He walked back into his dorm, the stench of sweat, and weed, hitting his face as he walked to his room. His roommate Lorenz thankfully wasn't in. A giant map of the world hung on his side of the room, it was gilded on the edges and had an old aged look. It was a stark contrast to the flashy purple cloths that covered the other side of the room and don't get him started on the roses.

He searched through the stacks of books, trying to find the one needed for class.

"Note to self, stop buying books," he said, shaking his head and pulling out his English book.

With that, he was off to class.

Meanwhile

Felix annoyance crept into his face as he walked away from the unwanted interaction with Claude. Who walks up to someone after admitting that they were talking about you with their friend? Not to mention, he had never met Claude before, so how the hell did he know his name? Unless he knew about his father.

He was the son of Rodrigue Fraldarius, the CEO of the Blue Lion Coffee Company, and if he wanted to take over the business one day, he had to outperform his brother Glenn.

He was striding past his fellows, avoiding as many of them as possible, when a cute redhead cut their way through the crowd stopped him, "Felix!"

"Yes, Annette."

"Where are you headed?"

"I'm going to class."

"Class? What class?"

"I have English at 1:30."

Annette looked at the smartwatch on her wrist, "But you don't have class for another hour, why don't we chat for a bit? I miss you, and I haven't seen you since graduation!.

"You know that I have to focus on my classes-"

"To take over the company one day, I know!" She sighed, "But that doesn't mean you can't have any friends. I-We miss you." A blush spread across her cheeks.

Felix softened his face putting a hand awkwardly on her shoulder, "Annette, it's nothing personal."

Balling her fists, Annette pouted, "Give me your planner."

"No."

"Give it to me right now, or I swear to god I will make a scene!" Her voice started to rise.

"Fine!" He dug into his planner and shoved it into her hands, "Just so you know, I don't appreciate the threat."

She hummed, writing down scribbles into his planner, "Okay, next Friday, you are coming to Dorothea's place, and we are going to have a game night. If you don't show up, I will consider you dead to me."

Annette skipped away, and Felix shook his head in disbelief. Looking down at his planner, he saw a heart with the words, "Game Night," in cursive. Felix watched her as she left, thinking about the awkward terms they were on. Everyone knows that whiskey and Felix is not good news, yet Annette wouldn't take no for an answer.

Checking his phone, he saw that class now started in 30 minutes, and he was going to be late for being early. He liked to sit in the middle, not too close to the front to be called, but not too far in the back to be deemed a slacker.

"What a hassle."

When crossing the threshold into his classroom, he stopped to find Claude, that bastard, sitting where he liked to sit.

Damn Annette.

He took the seat one down and opened his book. He decided to ignore everyone else's existence and make it through the next hour.

"Excuse me," A girl's voice broke his concentration, "Is anyone sitting here?"

"Does it look like anyone is sitting there?"

"Ah, I guess not," she forced a half-laugh, "I'll just sit here, I guess."

Felix grunted, refusing to look up at the intrusion. The last thing he needed was another person trying to talk to him while he was trying to train to become the most exceptional businessman ever to live.

"Ah, don't mind him," Claude interrupted, "He's not the friendly type. My name's Claude. What's yours?"

"Linda."

Claude recognized her as the girl he labeled Savannah earlier.

When Felix looked up, he saw a girl with brown hair and brown eyes. Pretty sure, but nothing special.

"Well, Linda, we should share numbers. This way, if one of us misses class, we have a back up for notes."

Felix saw through this ploy. Claude was clearly trying to get into this girl's pants.

"Uh sure, I guess. Not sure what kind of notes I would miss in English," Linda said hesitantly, setting her books on to the desk.

Felix chuckled, "If you want good notes, it's best just to take them yourself." He then glared over to Claude, "And you. Are you already planning on missing class?"

As Claude began to retort, the professor walked into the room and started class. He was a man with shoulder-length green hair and matching eyes. He wore a fitted blazer in a navy blue that was layered over a gold t-shirt and black jeans. Felix thought to himself, "Trying a little hard to fit in with the youth."

"This is English level 1000. If you are not meant to be in this class, please leave," the professor bellowed. A few embarrassed students left the classroom. "Okay, I am Seteth. I will be teaching you how to interpret books in a way you've never thought of before."

"I will not be going over the syllabus as you should have read it on your own time. Instead, I will be assigning groups in this class for discussion," Seteth paused and looked over the room, "No, you may not choose who your partners will be."

A groan came from in the back, "Why not?"

"If you work with friends your whole life, then you will never learn how to see things from a different perspective," Seteth answered.

Felix felt annoyed. He hated working in groups. Every group project he has ever been apart of has been with people who were stupid, lazy, or a hybrid of both.

"You three!" Seteth pointed between Claude, Linda, and Felix, "You will be group C. Exchange numbers and get to know each other." Just as Felix thought his problems couldn't get worse, he got partnered with the one person in class that he already knew he didn't like. The professor set down a worksheet that had big, bold letters at the top that said the worst words put together on Earth Ice Breaker.

Great.

As Linda looked to her right, she noticed Felix is glaring past her, so she smiled at him, "Yeah, I get it, groups kind of suck. Here's my number." She slid a piece of paper over to him. "Just text me your name."

Felix scoffed, "Okay."

Linda decided to leave him alone. She thought to herself, "A man of few words or just an asshole?" She turned toward Claude, "You text me too."

A vibration came from her back pocket, "Already done."

"Awesome, I'll put a group chat together. It will be easier this way to talk to each other."

Linda cleared her throat and picked up a copy of the worksheet, "Oh, this doesn't look too bad. It's only ten questions." Then she quickly felt a chill run through her body when she saw the murderous look on her new brooding teammate's face.

Seteth returned to the front of the class and explained the paper, "You each will interview the person sitting to the left of you. If you are sitting in a line, and have no one to the left of you, interview the last person in your row. After filling out the worksheet, return the paper to me, and you are free to leave. Questions? Great, get started."

This order meant that Felix would interview Linda, Linda would interview Claude and Claude would interview Felix. Claude was interested to learn more about why Felix was such a douche.

"You two can go first," Claude rested back in his seat, taking out his phone to scroll, "I don't mind waiting to go last."

"Okay, number one, what's your major," Felix asked quickly as if the faster he spoke, the faster he could escape this situation.

"Journalism."

"Number two, why did you choose that major?"

"I like learning about people and their lives. You know, giving a voice to those who don't have one," Linda smiled, and Felix rolled his eyes. What an admirable goal, but Felix doubted that it was reachable. The public only cares about people with power or money, but he wasn't going to be the one to tell her.

"Favorite food?"

"Sauerkraut."

"You have got to be kidding me," Claude interrupted, "Who likes sauerkraut?"

"It's only the best food on the planet, and one of the only foods I like that isn't doomed to hurt my health in some way shape or form," Linda defended herself, crossing her arms over her chest covering the words, 'Dog Life.'

"Yeah, but that's still weird."

"Can we please move on?" Felix wrote down her answer and continued, "What is your dream in life?"

"I want to retire with someone I love and own a farm where I take care of rescue dogs."

"I'm not touching that one," Claude laughed, obviously enjoying making fun of this new girl.

"Oh, let me live. It's a dream; it's not supposed to be realistic."

"That isn't true," Felix interrupted, "My dream is to beat my brother and take over my father's company so I can become the most successful businessmen in the world."

Silence.

"That's… nice," Linda hesitantly said, "A little intense, but I guess we all have to have something to live for."

Felix scoffed, "I don't need your approval."

With that, the talking mood was killed, and they finished the rest of the assignment without a hitch. Everyone was packing up their bags and getting ready to leave when Claude's grin grew across his face, "How about we all get together? I don't know that many people around here."

"I don't know that many people either. Plus, I'm all about having study buddies." Linda agreed, plus Claude seemed nice enough to be friends.

"Count me out," Felix spit, starting to pack up his books. "I don't need any more distractions. We can talk during class, but I don't see the need to get close to each other."

"C'mon Felix," Claude pleaded, "It won't work if we aren't all together. It's group bonding."

"No."

"Not even for an hour."

"No."

"What if we brought donuts?"

"I don't like sweets."

"It's okay, Felix, you don't have to," Linda interrupted the stalemate, "Forcing you to come wouldn't be fun anyways. If you do want to show up, then do."

Felix's eyebrows shot up. Was she respecting his boundaries? This behavior was the opposite of how the other people in his life acted. He looked at her, with an unreadable face, and said, "Thanks."

Before Felix left the classroom, Claude yelled, "I'll put the details in group chat." Each one of them knew it was going to be an interesting semester.

Defining Perfection - A KHUX Fic

Summary: A request by a user who chooses to remain anonymous. They wanted me to write a fic where the Foretellers used darkness instead of light, and Ava became the Master of Master's second over Ira: this is what I did with that idea. AU.

Author’s Note: So, a quick warning now: at the end of this fic—though only in the last little bit—the Master of Masters has feelings for Ava (she also has a bit of a crush on him, but that’s harmless). I KNOW that it’s problematic and messed up, but that’s sort of the point: the Master of MASTERS is problematic and messed up. But even while this is here, nothing inappropriate happens between them. He only tells Ava this to try and sway her from a suicide mission, and then tries to save her when she’s dying. That’s it. But still… if that’s too much for you, and you don’t want to read this, I understand. But the story just developed this way via the prompt: if the Foretellers are using darkness, something opposite of what they did in canon, that means a lot of other opposites that you wouldn’t expect from them should be happening with the characters. And since the theme of this story is darkness, go figure that it got a bit darker. But Gula and Ava is still the center pairing in this, if you can even say there is one here. And Ava does refer to everyone in her life as her new family—so sorry if it seems weird, then, that she has feelings for Gula and arguably the Master—but as no one’s actually related… and this happens in other media, I went with it. Also, once again, they’re dealing with darkness. So this is kind of a dark fic. Also, I know I sometimes write Sora as the Master of Masters or Gula in fics, and Kairi—as Ava—but I’m not doing any of that here. The Master of Masters, Gula, and Ava are all their own characters in this. And Gula and Ava get into a sad confrontation in this, because of a misunderstanding and the darkness but I swear it gets better! But enough yammering from me… Defining Perfection Ava’s PoV The Master of Masters sat stood before his Foretellers, in the tower that they called home, telling them what was presumably the truth of the land: a truth that Ava was having a hard time digesting. She supposed it made sense what he was saying now—that what they actually needed was a balance between light and darkness, since some of the medals from the future had darkness in them and apparently the world survived in some form by partly residing in the Realm of Darkness… And since the Master was now saying that since the Keyblade wielders had the light covered, that then meant that the Foretellers needed to be the darkness now. Aced was deeply upset by this, begging the Master of Masters to take it back. And while Aced was clearly the most vocal about his displeasure, it was clear that the others were unhappy, too: Gula was pacing back and forth, Invi was biting on her lip, and Ira had a hand reached towards their dear Master. But Ava, breathing a quick sigh, decided to be brave: this was what the world needed in order to survive, and she'd always choose that. "We'll do it, Master!” Ava said, in a far more chipper tone than she thought she had any right to. “We won't give up on our light entirely, but we'll work on the darkness." And this was how Ava became the Master of Masters' second-in-command. … In the end, giving herself over to the darkness—even just somewhat—ended up being harder than Ava thought it would be. But since she had been the first  to agree to this, she threw herself into her research to be a good example for her fellow Foretellers (especially Gula, who meant so much to her)… but it was still too much. Though Ava was loath to let it show. …She hated how cold darkness felt when one used it. If you used it to attack anyone—as she’d learned when she’d sparred with her adopted siblings, or whatever they were—the target would feel like you were freezing them to death. And even though heat hurt, Ava missed the burning effect of light much more. Warmth was everything good in the world, wasn’t it? Sometimes it was actually hard for Ava to think back to the perfect relationship she’d had with her friends and family, before they had been taken away from her… but she was glad that she had those memories (recollections of scrapbooking, jest skiing, and video editing with the family she chose, that was). And they made Ava glow, the way a star did—as one was supposed to feel—and made her even moreso think she’d maybe made a mistake in giving up on the light so easily… But the Master of Masters had insisted… And no matter what, Ava listened to what he had to say. So what was Ava trying to do right now? To create a barrier of darkness that would keep her from being harmed by anything, such as an icy feeling… something that felt somewhat ironic to Ava, because she still thought that darkness did the harming. But it was what it was… “What feeling?” the Master of Masters asked now, as he came into their gym to inspect her form, “do you think of when you draw upon the power of darkness, Ava?” And while everything else in her life might not have been easy anymore, this answer at least was. “…Selfishness,” Ava admitted, just as some hair fell loose from the bun she’d put it into, and it landed on her face. “…My brother, Atom’s, selfishness when he convinced me that he and I were aliens when we were little, just for fun… And my own there, for believing it—and wanting it to be true—and dreaming of leaving our perfect parents for something ‘better’. Not even caring how it would hurt them.” Ava was certain that her Master was staring at her now—though this was never an easy thing to tell, of course, because his face was always hidden beneath his hood. But Ava could still gather this by how he stood facing her, without moving or saying anything—and she thought she knew why… Even what she was “complaining of,” was still near perfection: so unlike the other children the Master of Masters had taken in. She had had it the best out of anyone in Daybreak Town… So did she really deserve to teach others about darkness, then? And she also guessed he was staring, because… this was arrogance on her part, she knew—another bit of darkness in her heart, so perhaps she had more to her than she knew—but Ava imagined that most people wouldn’t have even thought how such a dream could hurt their guardians… or give thought to anyone else at all, when it came to their passions. "Ava, I think you should go back to the light," the Master of Masters said out of the blue, just like that. And Ava knew that he sometimes used reverse psychology to get them to do what he wanted them to, so maybe that was what he meant for here… Except that he didn’t. He actually meant it. And it completely took Ava aback. "But... wouldn't that ruin all your plans?" Ava asked helplessly. Her respect and trust for the Master of Masters was one of the only constants she still had in this life. And she was doing what she now was—even against some of the other Foretellers' own ideas about it--for him. So to have the Master hinting that what she was doing was maybe now wrong, she didn't know what to do. And seeming in deep thought about the words he had just said himself—not at all like the always joking man that Ava knew—the Master finally voiced, "…Then I guess for now, just do what you think is best, Ava." And so she did... And since she hated quitting anything, and feeling like she was falling short, Ava threw herself went even further and nearly submitted to the darkness completely. …It would be the greatest mistake she had ever made. ... "…I like your pink dress, because it looks like your skin," Gula blurted out to Ava—rather ungracefully one day—when they were holding each other’s hands, after Ava had nearly fallen on Gula when they’d tried to get a box of keychains from the storage shed for the wielders. Gula’s outburst wasn't completely unexpected, because she and Gula were perhaps moving closer to taking the next grand step in their relationship: the physical, probably. And Gula was a guy, so of course he wanted her…. But for whatever reason, even though there was a part of Ava that wanted every part of Gula like nothing else in the world, she somehow couldn't help feeling hurt by what he’d just said: and that his mind seemed to be more on her body than her heart. So that was why she even blurted something out herself, "Gula, I’ve got to ask… do you think you’d want me so strongly, if we weren’t all experimenting with darkness now?" Ava instantly regretted this—especially when she took in the look on Gula's face—because lust was an emotion everyone felt. And though it could lead to darkness (or be caused by it), it didn't always. Wasn't that exactly what they were learning now? That emotions that they'd once associated with that element didn't have to go hand-in-hand? And as the own darkness in her heart called her many things here—for being so cruel, and probably a hypocrite—Ava found herself accepting that she deserved Gula’s harsh rebuttal, as he pulled away from her as if she’d burned him: "And because I was the loaner of the Foretellers--the dark one from the get-go—I assume you just think all I feel for you is lust. And that I felt it early, because I’ve always had darkness in my heart, huh?” But what Ava knew she didn't deserve, was Gula summoning his lightning bolt Keyblade to try and attack her with it. He aimed for her head. "Well, then, I’m ending the insulting idea that I want you in any shape or form right here!” "Gula, what is this?!" Ava cried, as she easily parried his blade. A hurt, lost part of her wondering if he was acting this way just because he thought he wouldn’t let him touch her… even though she knew that wasn’t the case at all. He must have just thought she was saying he’d always been evil, or something. But even that wasn't enough to warrant this overreaction in her eyes. "Gula… I swear I'm not just jumping to conclusions and hating on you here. I know what partners feel for each other. I’m just wondering if darkness could increase that… and am worried if you’re really yourself here. Gula, please! See reason!” But apparently Gula didn't believe Ava and didn’t want to see reason. He hit her Keyblade, with his own so hard, that he almost broke it. And he sent a thunder spell her way, that she thankfully easily blocked with water… and kicked her legs in, so that she toppled over and now couldn’t follow after him. She needed a cure first, but she was out of ethers and magic at the moment and she knew that he wouldn’t heal here. "Gula!" Ava exclaimed, tears streaming down her eyes now. Why- why was this happening?! She loved him! And things had been speeding up between them so much lately—in a good way—that they should have been getting close to saying their vows. But now- "It's over, Ava!" Gula growled out. "And since it's over with you—the only Foreteller I actually cared about—it is for me and the rest of them, too. I'm on my own now, like the Master originally wanted, so don't come near me!" But even with his bizarre spiel, Gula turned around once—to kiss Ava on the head one last time, it seemed—and then he was gone. And Ava wasn't at all surprised when she heard the next day, that he was trying to get more lux than anyone else was. ... On said next day, Ava went to see Invi in a secret room of the Foretellers'. And Invi was sitting in the throne that was stationed there and trying to summon a dark fire to her hand.: since they'd all realized they could somehow use the power of darkness better in this seat. Especially dark fire. “Inv…, do you think the Master made this dais to help us learn how to use the darkness better, when he eventually leaves us? Like he said he would?” Ava demanded, eager to know the truth. Because if she was now going to lose the two people most dear to her in her life… she honestly didn’t know what to do. Invi breathed heavily at the question, and Ava knew why. She, perhaps more than any of them, hated the idea of the Master of Masters leaving them. “…I don’t know, Ava,” Invi finally sighed out, willfully getting up from where she’d just sat and striding towards the room’s exit. Ava followed her. “It seems to me that he just made it for himself… which concerns me a bit. Because if that’s the case, what does it mean that he was always using the power of darkness? Ava… what if Superbia was never trustworthy, and we were fools to trust him?” At Invi’s complete and total act of betrayal here, Ava almost wanted to summon her own Keyblade and fight Invi, the way Gula just had her. But she kept herself from doing so, because she was better than that…for  she was the one the Master of Masters had once tasked with the idea of “Dandelions”. But she did still have it within her to question, “what are you saying, Invi?!” The two girls were in Invi’s favorite place in the world right now: the tower’s kitchen. And it actually grieved Ava, to know this because it seemed to her that Invi was almost getting rewarded for saying sacrilegious things. “If that’s the case- then what? He wanted to destroy the world?! Why would he do that? He lives in it, too!” Clearly, Invi had just been completely consumed by the darkness or something. That was the only thing that Ava could figure here—perhaps via the place they’d just been in, that  better connected them to the darkness. And if this was the result of that, it just had to be an oversight on the Master of Masters’ part… right? As Invi pinched the bridge of her nose, looking as though she had a migraine coming on, she only had this answer for Ava: “You haven’t been through what I have, so you probably don’t know how good parents can go bad. But since I do, let me tell you-“ But Ava wasn’t taking this patronizing tone. She knew well of what Invi had been through. They all did: her parents had essentially disowned her for allowing her racehorse to get injured. And that was horrible, it really was. And Ava had nothing but sympathy for Invi because of it… but Invi had no idea what she’d been through. And to say that the Master of Masters was anything like that- Ava wouldn’t believe it. Couldn’tbelieve it. Ava’s Keyblade had come to her hand now—since she was clearly so agitated—but it kept blinking in and out of existence, since it was as lost on what to do as she was. Ava could barely hear her own voice when she talked next, because she didn’t want to remember any of this… but at the same time, she did… and needed to, and that was that. “Invi, I do have an idea of your situation… I’ve never told anyone how I came to live here with you all… I had a golden life… I really did. With all walks of life—and things—in it, since my parents were always bouncing back and forth from middle class to higher class. But even when we were in the middle class, it was still higher middle class… But this was because my aunt, but mainly my uncle—my real legal guardians, after my real mother had me out of wedlock and wasn’t ready for me—was doing some illegal things: fraud, not paying his taxes. You name it. And all of that really isn’t so bad, right? …Except he did this to keep my brother—who- who now has died—and I at higher class, thinking it made us better that way. That we would end up being hellions, as I guess ‘all other children are’, if we got a taste of the lower-class life. My ‘dad’ went to jail, my ‘mom’ killed herself because she couldn’t handle it, and my brother was murdered by someone who hated my ‘dad’ for how he’d robbed him: the start of evil darkness in the world, probably. I was on the street for a week after that… that’s when the Master found me. “So, Invi: I know all too well what it’s like to be betrayed by an adult. But I swear the Master of Masters isn’t like that at all. He-“ “But what if I am?” came a sudden voice that seemed very close to the girls, but nowhere near them all at once… It was the Master of Master’s voice, no doubt. And since it was, Ava absolutely dreaded what he’d just said. The women looked around this way and that, trying to find their beloved Master. They even summoned their Keyblades to hand (it no longer blinking away from Ava now), thinking that maybe them doing so would make their senses more alert. And they closed their eyes, just trying to listen. But nothing. Though out of the corner of her eye, Ava thought she saw a white version of the Master’s robes billowing out the window. But if she had, the image was gone in a flash. But Invi must have seen it too, for the next day she was completely against the Master of Master’s ideas and stopped doing anything at all—thinking that perhaps he had died, and that had been his regretful spirit telling them he’d been wrong. … “Ira… do you think we did the right thing in trusting the Master of Masters, and deciding to use the power of darkness?” Ava asked, when she couldn’t stand the silence anymore… Not that it had been an uncomfortable silence in the slightest. But the weight of everything that had happened recently, with Gula, and Invi leaving (and Gula had taken her heart with him), was clearly heavy on their minds. And Ava hadn’t wanted some sort of disaster to happen between them, too, just because they were choosing to remain silent about these hard topics. At first, Ira seemed to have the same kind of mindset that Ava had had. He actually pricked his finger on a thorn—when Ava so greatly shocked him—and looked at her accusingly for it… Or so Ava thought he was, anyway, even though she couldn’t see his face from beneath his mask. “Ava… I would rather not believe anything heinous about our Master… But then again, hindsight does exist. And since the Master just disappeared, it’s impossible to know. “But… I feel like no matter what, we had to try something. If we had stuck with our original idea of gathering light as the Keyblade wielders are, would that have ended any differently? Or could we have eventually fought over lux, as noble as our intentions were, and doomed ourselves that way? …But we learned that the future has darkness and needs it, so we would have been fools to not try and created it now. Right? So even if that ends up destroying us, or our method before it would have done the trick, no one can say we didn’t try to find a peaceful solution or to weigh out our options. And if a world still manages to exist after our own one here, surely history will remember us for that.” It was a moving speech. And maybe in some way, Ava attempted to tell Ira just that as she put some of the dandelions into a flower crown around his head. It even made Ava believe that maybe she could avoid hating herself, and dreading everything, if the worst should come, and she raised a Keyblade against a fellow wielder herself. But she still couldn’t help feeling that too little was happening here. “Ira… I mean this with complete respect towards your character, of course, but it seems like you’re as willing to be inactive as I am now… and Invi is. Me, the person who started all of this, is now rooted to the spot because I don’t know what’s best or who to trust… and I despise having to say that. But I am just keeping a sharp eye on everything—so I’ll hopefully know when to intervene, if I have to—and praying for the best, I guess.” Ira, as her curled his lips in a look of disgust, definitely seemed insulted by Ava’s words at first. And Ava thought she knew why: before she’d risen as leader, in agreeing to use the power of darkness before anyone else had, there had been rumors of Ira being the one chosen to be the Master of Master’s right-hand man. So of course, it would kill him that Ava was saying he wasn’t being proactive. But thankfully, Ira swiftly recovered and told her with a rather shy smile, “Well, with Gula and Invi already flying off the handles—and us losing them that way—maybe staying calm is actually for the best.” And when out of the corner of her eye, Ava saw Aced essentially curb stomping new recruits to choose whoever was best for his new “power brigade”, or whatever it was called—his version of the Dandelions the Master of Masters had once tasked her with, but that hadn’t happened after he’d changed their roles—she couldn’t help but agree. “…Also, Ira… I actually don’t know if Gula’s out of the count yet. Yesterday, he sent me a letter—telling me he’s somewhere else and has figured everything out—and it had smiley faces all over it, which isn’t like him at all.” And as both Ava and Ira exchanged a look at this, she knew they were both confused… but Ava was also so very grateful. … Aced was the one who approached Ava the next day, when she was trying to be zen in clipping her Bonsai Tree. The situation that was growing between the other Foretellers now was horrid, it was, but you only lived once. And if it was true Ava was going to lose her life soon, she was going to make sure this little plant could survive even beyond her. “Ava,” Aced said, as he came into her room uninvited and slammed the door—almost hitting her—as he did so. He was completely unperturbed. “Since it seems like this War is inevitable—with Gula collecting so much lux before he ran away, that it’s ridiculous… and how I want to beat him for that, and Invi for skirting her own responsibilities—I want to at least be fair and tell you that all of my Key Kids, even the ones in a different Union than mine, will wait at the fated place on the morrow… and if none of you show up there, I’ll hunt you down here.” Tears stung Ava’s eyes, but she didn’t let them show. If this was the kind of person Aced had really chosen to be, he didn’t deserve the luxury of seeing her emotions. But she couldn’t believe Aced was doing this! Sure, some of the other Foretellers had had bad things to say about him—and even Ava had had her own issues with him, when he’d wanted to kill any Dark Chirithys before they’d opted to use the darkness—but he’d still held one of the purest and most beautiful hearts she’d ever known: that she might have even once said was brighter than any of theirs. So… why? Why did it end up like this? But seeming to see Ava’s feelings on the subject, despite her best effort to cover them up, Aced smiled at her sadly and even seemed near tears himself. “It’s just inevitable at this point, Ava. Deep down, we all knew that it was. But I have a plan here: I’ll make sure I win and summon Kingdom Hearts. Whoever opens Kingdom Hearts is said to be revived as a god. I’ll then use those powers to, perhaps, rewind time and make certain we don’t end up like this again. I’ll find a way. That’s a promise.” Ava wanted to slap him—or hug him, even—and explain that there were a lot of “what-ifs” in this scenario, so why was he trying to egg things on now? But she didn’t. Because as messed up as it was, Aced was the only one who’d deemed to give Ava any sense of hope through this inevitability. And if that was all she had, then she would heartbreakingly take that over the alternative: that eventually they had the Keyblade War, anyway, but with absolutely no promise there. So Ava was certain she’d try and help Aced and his pupils win the Keyblade War… but a returned Master of Masters, wearing the white robe that she and Invi had seen before, would try and stop her. … It was when Ava was suiting up for the Keyblade War—thinking of trying out this armor that she’d just heard about—that the Master of Masters approached her by grabbing the end of her coat sleeve… something that was so unlike him, that it instantly took Ava’s breath away. The Foretellers were the ones who usually hugged him in adoration. Or if he did touch any of them, it was usually a hard clap on their shoulder or something. This act of… love definitely seemed off somehow. Ava would have been lying if she said she hadn’t had a crush on the Master of Masters in the beginning—as messed up as that was—and though Ava had lied to herself about their being signs between them back then… only now—as he actually showed her his face and gave her an imploring eye)—was he really giving her one. “Ava, don’t do this.” She was shaking right in front of where her Bonsai Tree was now. And Ava fell into a deep depression, when with those movements she knocked it onto the floor and shattered the vase… Was there no chance it would survive now, either? Sure, she could probably have replanted it, but she didn’t have a vase or time! Which was why she began to sob, when she whirled around on one who she loved so much. “I- I have to, Master! Maybe you could’ve stopped this if you hadn’t disappeared… but it’s too late now! If we don’t go to the fated place, Aced will bring the War here… and I don’t want that. I’ve allowed those who are too afraid to fight, to bow out of going to the Keyblade Graveyard. But if Aced comes here, they might still get swept up in-” “I mean don’t fight in this War at all, Ava! Find a way to avoid it! And don’t listen to anything I ever said in the past. Kingdom Hearts above, don’t listen to any of that… I’m the villain of this story, Ava. I wanted Kingdom Hearts for myself… to turn the world to pure darkness. And I decided, in the end, that turning you guys to darkness would speed that process up and probably give me the X-Blade to open it, when you clashed with the light-wielding Keybearers… “But it was seeing what darkness did to you, how it turned those I did care about—despite myself—into completely different people… you especially, who was always too good for any of this… it made me change my mind about all of it. So stop it now, Ava. I’m begging you.” Tears probably streamed down Ava’s face in a torrent here, and she was humiliated because she was sure her face must have just looked like waterfalls—and the part of her that had once wanted to be the model specimen for this man, hated her lack of poise here—but she couldn’t care about that now. Instead, she had to go up to the Master—no, Superbia’s—face, and try to cover his mouth as he spoke because she couldn’t hear any of this. Because if any of this was at all true, then it meant Ava’s entire life was a lie… and actually, maybe in that lied the answer. She couldn’t livelike this anymore! And when she began laughing hysterically, as her life completely fell apart all around her, that she should have taken a step back and realized that she was in trouble. “Ava… the look in your eyes right now is one of craziness. And that’s coming from someone who’s fruitier than a fruitcake. What are you planning?” Was Ava imagining it… or was Superbia—no, the Master of Masters—trying to hug or restrain her now? No, that couldn’t have been it! Hadn’t she already established that none of this could be happening with him? Not when the Master was aloof with everyone who existed, even her… So that could only mean one thing: surely that was it, because her life couldn’t be this bad. It just couldn’t. “This must be a dream,” Ava whispered rubbing her eyes, largely to try and stop herself from seeing her fallen tree again and her Master’s handsome face. “Or it’s a trick of the light—perhaps our true enemy, like maybe you were getting at before--because you… you left, like everyone I’ve ever loved has done. You left us for good, for some reason… And you being here now is too good to be true. So that must mean nothing has changed, and I must go fight in this God forsaken War to keep to your ideals now. Goodbye, Dream.” “Ava, don’t.” This man, whoever or whatever he was—because he wasn’t the Master of Masters, he wasn’t—grabbed onto Ava’s wrist again to halt her. But it wasn’t enough… Because this thing didn’t want to hurt her, it seemed—which meant she could get away from him far too easily, whereas the Master would have made sure to leave a mark on her if he hadn’t wanted her to move. Ava escaped with her wits intact—or were they?—and headed towards the fated place with her Union members instantly understanding and following suit behind her…. and Ava swung, swung, swung her Keyblade there on autopilot: not really knowing or seeing anything. She did think she must have been bleeding a lot, though, and perhaps others were, too… how she missed Gula: perhaps the only ray of sunshine that she’d ever had in her life. And Invi and Ira’s logic. It was only as she laid down dying, that everything came to Ava with sudden clarity and she could greatly regret her actions. The “dream” hadn’t been that at all. That had really been the Master of Masters, looking for her to repent him of his sins… and she hadn’t listened to him, because she was too afraid to… and now the world was ending, with all these hearts going up to Kingdom Hearts, for no reason! None at all! During the battle, the Master of Masters did show up on the battlefield—completely unarmed (Luxu, too, surely under the Master’s command. But he didn’t do much)—and he did more than just try to stop Ava. Like, he tried to halt Invi—who had come back with a vengeance—but eventually he did get to Ava. And of course he would—a now cynical part of her thought—he “loved her”, whatever that meant… And that was disgusting, as everything else he’d done was disgusting. So when he was hovering over her, looking for a pulse, she found a last bit of strength within herself to rise up and stab him in the heart. So, in the end, they would die in some vein of Romeo and Juliet… So perhaps they had some sort of star-crossed lovers’ thing going on between them, after all. …Or moreover, she and Gula did. Because Gula—unlike what she’d thought with Aced—was the only good thing she could cling to as she died. Gula cradled her body and apologized profusely for the way he’d treated her in their last encounter together. He said he’d actually realized right away that he’d been wrong to treat her as such, since in his own words “she was always right”. Gula had then found pages pluralmissing from the Book of Prophecies, that spoke of the only one who could have saved them from all from his catastrophe: Sora. So Gula’d actively looked for a way to get to the future and reach to him—and he’d only pretended that he was after lux, to throw off the Master of Masters who Gula had begun to doubt—and he had gone and gotten Sora and brought him here… but it was too late. He’d gotten back too late. But Sora was needed to see the world to a better future, and now that he was here with Gula… they would make sure that happened and see to the survivors. Ava was sure of it. So maybe she could rest in peace, after all. Ava closed her eyes, squeezing Gula’s hand like she had always loved doing, and wished that she could get a millionth chance to do it. But she didn’t. But from the final resting place, Ava saw that Gula reaching his hand out to where she was in the sky—clearly, he’d understood her last wish and felt the same—and Ava was able to smile in perfection again.

the melodramatic beginning of my climactic end

There are, quite honestly, about a million other ways I had hoped to gain notoriety... and by a million I mean, like, five. Six, tops. Looking back, avoiding my own inevitable would’ve been easy – a literal push; a click, a tap, the fucking pushing of a fucking button (sorry, potty mouth). All I had to do was keep my mouth shut; keep my shit private just as I always had. I had worked so hard to get where I was – where I hopefully still am – and while some people may have deserved at least some part of what they got, some were just the worst kind of collateral damage. To the latter: you will never know the extent of my regret, nor the level at which I now self-loathe. To the former: I’m still sorry, even if you do suck a little.. I know, I know I’m getting ahead of myself. On that note, I suppose I should start from the melodramatic beginning of my climactic end – my self-imposed downfall, my very clumsy swan dive into public humiliation. Here goes; try not to hate me too much.

Oh, I’ve changed the names of people and places, but the rest is - unfortunately - the truth. 

“Well, it’s over! It’s done!” Judy, very melodramatically, intoned while frantically waving her arms, “Edgewood has officially gone to hell in a handbasket!” I have only just walked into the back door of the bakery and tea house the two of us own together, but I can already tell it’s going to be one of those days – to be fair, most of them are. “Well, don’t stop now, give me all the dirt!” I know I’m baiting her, but it never stops being fun. “They robbed my silverware tree!” she offered by way of explanation – the “silverware tree” as we now call it, is the tree that we are forced by the town of Clydesville to have blocking our front door because we live in Tree City USA. We decided to make it festive by hanging all of our gold-plated silverware that was too pitted for use (we are fancy, after all) and everyone had already come to terms with the simple fact that we might as well just throw that silverware in the trash, because once it was out there it likely wouldn’t stay very long. “Well, don’t let them ever say we don’t give back to our community.” Being flippant probably isn’t the best approach to the situation, but we are nothing if not sassy here. “Thanks for taking their attack on my decoration seriously” she sighed “I guess I should just be thankful they were careful not to trample my english garden while they robbed me blind.” “You’re right, I’m sorry, I should’ve taken this more seriously” I held up my hands in a placating gesture, “more importantly – who had bets on it lasting less than a month?” Before she even had time to feign offense, the victor was ready to claim their spoils. “That would be me!” the victor in question being my friend, and co-worker, Lawrence; or as we all prefer to call him, Law, “E-e-easiest five bucks I eva made!” he took the time to not only grab his prize, but do a somewhat embarrassing dance while doing it, “Ooh, wait, give it to me in singles – I WANNA MAKE IT RAIN.” “Five singles isn’t enough to make it rain, Law.” I retorted knowingly – honestly because we have tried to do it countless times, and failed miserably. We have the slow-motion videos to prove it. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was your personal mission to rain on EVERYBODY’S parade today, Kat. Don’t let me stop you, want me to tell you about my hopes and dreams so you can shoot them all down while you’re at it? Yeesh.” He and I have been friends for so long, this type of back-and-forth is just par for the course. As a matter of fact, if I’m not mistaken, we are actually cousins. It is Wayneswood County, after all, literally everyone is related. “As long as your so-called hopes and dreams don’t involve proposing to yet another girlfriend, I’m pretty sure I’ll be supportive of them” I know it’s a low blow to hit so early in our little game, but I really do have a reason for coming in to the store today. You see, Law is what we call a ‘habitual proposer’ – he’s been engaged to four different women (only married to one) in his ripe, young age of twenty-eight. “aye-aye-aye, kick a man when he’s down, why don’tcha?” he pounded a closed fist over his heart in an attempt to make me feel bad. “I’m not saying I didn’t know it wouldn’t happen, but I just thought people would be nicer. I should know better than to place any expectations on humanity anymore. Oh, well – at least I’ve got more silverware to hang up. No more soup ladles, though, the dredges of society apparently needed to serve some broth.” Judy interjected, still trying desperately to hide her disappointment. “That or prepare a whole lot of crack!” I jovially added, making a show of shrugging my shoulders and forcing a tight smile. “Prepare. Prepare?” oh, here he goes “Uh, excuse me, yes Geeves” Law was getting into it now, affecting a posh accept and holding his pinky in the air “prepare us crack, good sir, make it our finest vintage!” “Soooorrrrryyyyy I don’t know all the hip drug lingo, friendo. I must’ve missed that issue of Street Youth Monthly.” Admittedly, my joke’s weren’t always the cream of the crop. After receiving looks of pity for my attempt at being pithy, we fell into our daily routine of treading water and getting through the daily deluge of afternoon teas, ladies having lunch, hipster parents trying to force their kids into liking fancy things and the general public needing sweets to keep calm and carry on. “Our 2:00 afternoon pushed to Wednesday, and changed their reservation time to 1:30.” Judy explained – at the end of the day we all sit down and compare calendars, make notes on scheduling, and make sure we haven’t over-booked ourselves too terribly much. “Okay, perfect. I got a form submission for a 12:00 highest on the 26th.” I added, looking over my most recent crop of e-mails. “Hmmm” Judy furrowed her brow in concentration, “No, that won’t work, we’ve got a party of 15 at 12:00 for a Bridal Shower Tea, see if they can move to either 11:00 am or 2:00 pm. Those are the only availabilities.” “I’ll go ahead and e-mail them.” I responded, tapping a few keys to bring that promise to life. “We will need someone on June 9th, we have that big pastry order for the store anniversary at Belk.” Judy flipped her calendar, and for the first time I truly realized how close to the end of May we were. “I also have a wedding that Friday, so we will definitely need to schedule a lot of help because I’ll be down for the count just filling those two orders.” I’m the Pastry Chef, so I shoulder most of the actual baking responsibility, but I always make sure that only I do the wedding cakes. I’m very, very particular about the wedding cakes. “Can do. Law, can you make yourself available?” “Already planning on it, boss.”  My friend was nothing if not dependable. “Y’all know I ain’t got shit going on otherwise.” “Thanks, my dude. Did you buy your tickets for the Front Bottoms yet?!” we had only been talking about going to see them for, oh I don’t know, a million years now. I needed him to stop dragging his feet and commit to going with me already. I hate going places by myself, especially Asheville. “ohmagod, do you want me to buy the tickets in front of you? Do you want me to purchase the gahdang tickets right frickin now so you can watch and make sure I do it, MOM?” like I said, the back and forth never stops with us. “actually that would bring me great pleasure.” I said, a smug smile taking over. “FINE.” He yelled, while pulling out his phone with more dramatic flourish than I probably deserved. After a few enunciated taps, he announced he had indeed purchased the ticket (showing me the text for proof) “You’re driving my ass there I hope you know. And buying me a beer – Wicked Weed is right next door and I’m not about to take on a buncha teenage FB fans without some liquid assistance.” “I’ll do you one better – I’ll buy you a PRETZEL to go with your beer.” I’m feeling very magnanimous, obviously. The day ended as does every other – with our tiny crew barely holding it together, and counting down the last five minutes like we were in Time’s Square watching the ball drop. Unfortunately for me, though, keeping up morale until 5:00 wasn’t going to be my biggest problem of the day.

The drive home was especially short for me, considering I lived less than a block away from the shop. Yes, I choose to drive - you haven’t been on these mean streets at 3:00 am. I put my little Honda in park, and tried to get all the groceries in one go, something at which I seemed to be failing miserably. Reaching for my key, usually hanging from the tiny cupcake keychain my boyfriend’s niece got me for Christmas a few years ago, I was shocked to look down and see nothing more than a broken bead chain. Sonofa – “NOOOOOOO not again!!!!” I whined, loudly. Cute it may be, practical it was not – I had lost my house key more times than I could count at this point during our five-year stint in our little Edgewood home. Micah’s car was here, though, so I could at least just bang on the door until he let me in. “MICAH! MICAH I KNOW YOU’RE HERE, LET ME IN YOU PUNK.” -bang bang bang- -bang bang bang- “I SWEAR TO CHRIST IF YOUR’E SLEEPING THROUGH THIS I’M GOING TO MURDER YOU. YOU JUST WAIT UNTIL I GET THIS DOOR OPEN” -bang bang bang- At this point, my hand was starting to hurt desperately, so I decided that –naturally- the best course of action was to begin kicking the door. However, one can only punch and kick a door for so long before one decides one looks like a crazy person and the neighbors start peeking out their windows. I pulled out my phone to begin the task of calling him until he answered, but after the fifth call of incessant ringing, it started going straight to voicemail. Huh. I mean, that’s probably nothing right? “Hey, it’s Micah, I’m either busy or just can’t get to the phone right now – either way, leave me a message and I’ll call you back… or I won’t. Later. Beeeeeeeep” “Micah, what the hell? I’m sitting outside, freezing, alone, getting really shitty looks from our very terrible neighbors, I lost my key – again. Yes, I know. Your car is here, so I don’t know why you’re not, but I guess just let me know whenever you can. I love you.” A knot began twisting in the pit of my stomach – our relationship would never be described as “stable” or “healthy”, a fact that my friend who was currently going to school to be a therapist (whatever that’s called – therapy school? Therapist school? How-does-that-make-you-feel school?) was always very quick to point out. “If someone really loved you, they wouldn’t make you feel this way.” “If he really loved you, he would make you a priority.” “People in healthy relationships don’t end up crying on their friends’ couches this much.” Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. We started dating when I was young – honestly, no frontal lobe development whatsoever – and we got way too serious way too quickly. What would you do if you were 19 and your boyfriend’s mom made you promise to take care of him on her deathbed? Yeah, that’s right, don’t judge me; maybe I should’ve left years earlier, but sometimes the hardest thing is to do is scream for help when your lungs have filled with water. So, I sat there. I sat on that porch for five hours and twenty-seven minutes and you can bet your ass if my watch counted seconds I would know those, too. Finally, the darkness was punctured by a harrowing halogen beacon, said beacon not being attached to any car I immediately recognized, but at this point a literal prostitute could’ve been driving him home and I wouldn’t have cared – the need to urinate was all encompassing and entirely overbearing. A slow roll, the sound of the door opening and quickly closing, a decidedly female voice offering promises of meeting again soon; the soft crunch of glass-flecked grass from when he accidentally broke two of my solar lights but never bothered to clean it up, the rattle of keys being removed from the same front, left pocket in which they always rested. “’bout time.” I slurred – admittedly, at some point during my wait I had decided to crack into the beers I had purchased earlier. And by “crack into” I mean “drink all of”. “jesus!” micah whispered, jumping back and assuming what I can only imagine was meant to be a defensive position, “Kat? What are you doing out here? Christ, you scared the SHIT outta me!” “Oh, no… are you slightly inconvenienced? Oh, oh, no… I would hate for your date to end on a sour note.” “Date? Oh, seriously, Kat? Really? You’re gonna get mad about me for hanging out with an old friend?” Micah’s mood immediately turned, and I knew it could only be headed in one direction. “Don’t bring him up.” I warned “For fuck’s sake” he huffed “so you’re free to throw my female friends in my face whenever you want, but I can’t bring up your so-called… what is it that you call him?” he asked in a mocking tone “best friend forever? Your little bestie? Bestie Bitch?” “Seriously, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Besides, that’s different.” I argued – the same argument we’ve had time and time again. “Oh, I do know what I’m talking about. I don’t give a shit that you guys have been friends since you were in diapers or whatever you want to claim – that guy is in love with you; he would be at the front of your line, and you know it.” He sneered “God, Micah, when are you finally going to admit that you’re unhappy? When will you stop trying so desperately to make ‘us’ work?” I pleaded, practically on my knees – because, damn, I was druuunk. “When will you?” I can’t explain what happened next, because never in my life have I been that person – the one who is strong enough to walk away, the one who can say no. I can only thank the Stella gods for giving me the distinguished courage to stand up – for, arguably, the first time in my life – and have the self-respect to finally walk away. “Now.” I blinked, suddenly realizing what I was saying, gathered what remained of my groceries (that I hadn’t eaten or drank) and stood up, ready to take the first step. Ready to make a move solely for myself, without worrying about someone who had never spent a day worrying about me. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Back up… what?” Micah kept doing this ‘I can’t believe this is happening’ blinking and head shaking combination, probably unsure what to do in a situation where I wasn’t a complete pushover, “say that again? I had to hear you wrong.” “Now.” I said again, much more forcefully, “I’m done. You’re done. We’re done, that simple. I’m leaving – I’ll, uh, come back sometime to get my stuff. I’m taking Penelope and MacGyver.” “You’re serious? Oh, you sweet, simple little bunny… just like that? Just… done? Where do you think you’re gonna go?” he had turned condescending, and I was not there for that. At. All. “I told you to stop calling me that, you ass. I’ll find somewhere to stay – so many people have been begging me to leave you and offering their homes as shelter, it’s not me I’m worried about.” “Well leave your key, I don’t want you sneaking back in here and taking my shit.” Oh, Micah, you always were unnecessarily paranoid. Looking back, it was probably the drugs I didn’t know you were taking. “I lost my key – if you answered your phone, you’d know that.” “Are you sure you can’t stay – we can talk this out?” “There’s nothing to talk about, Micah. We’re done. Now, get the hell out of my way, I’m leaving.” “You can’t drive, you’ve been drinking… you have to stay.” He had a point, and I’m honestly super terrified of breaking the law, but before he had even finished his sentence, I had my phone out and was halfway to dialing the only person I could consistently rely on. “Kat, baby? What’s wrong?” he answered – he always answers. “I’m sorry, Phoenix, I know it’s late… I just” oh, no, the tears. The tears started happening. “I don’t give a shit what time it is – you can call me day or night, you know that – you just never call.” His voice had taken on a tender quality, probably in response to my sobs. “I, uh, I… ah, fuck, can you come get me? Please?” “Absolutely, where are you?” “Ho-“ Micah cast a harsh glare in my direction, “… um, Micah’s house.” I corrected myself – this place hadn’t ever really been my home, anyway. “… is that a new place, or a new name for an old place?” I could hear his hesitancy – I didn’t know how to approach this situation, how could I expect him to? “It’s the same address… just a different situation.” I didn’t really want to get into it, considering Mr. Glarey McGlareson was still shooting eye-daggers at me. “Give me ten minutes.” “Don’t speed.” I attempted to sound stern “Kitkat, I’m coming to pick you up from what I can only assume to be your now ex-boyfriend’s house, I’ll be there in ten minutes or I owe you a bag of chips.” “I’m timing you.” “You’d better.” “Well isn’t that just precious – you’re moving on mighty fast there, Kitkat.” Micah sneered as soon as I hung up on Phoenix. “Seriously? Don’t. Just, don’t. I’m not the one who got dropped off by another woman.” I warned, but it was hollow – honestly, whoever she was, call that bitch up and I’ll thank her myself for being the impetus for this conversation. Micah decided it would be better to not wait with me, and I couldn’t have agreed more. He told me he would call me when he felt comfortable with me getting my stuff – I told him I would be by to get my cats by the end of the following week. He snorted some semblance of an agreement, walked up the two-steps to the small porch, stalked through the front door and ended the entire conversation with a slam. Nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, Phoenix’s truck pulled up in front of the 1940s bungalow I wouldn’t sleep another night in. How magnificent. “Jesus, P, how fast did you go?” “What do I need to load? What’s the game plan?” he clapped his hands, rubbing them together like he was either about to do some manual labor or concoct a dastardly plot to take down that do-gooder, Dudley. “I’m sorry, game plan?” I asked, still pretty tipsy, considering. “Yeah – let’s get this done, move you out. Why wait?” “Well, for one, it’s like three in the morning. For two, this wasn’t planned and I haven’t even packed a single shred of anything. I’m not ready, I’ll just come back.” “What’s in your hands?” confusion echoed across his handsome features. I mean, sure we’re only friends, but I can appreciate a good lookin’ guy, you feel me? “What?” I looked down, because honestly I had kind of forgotten, “Oh, groceries.” I shrugged. “That bastard let you go to the grocery store before he broke up with you?” “Hey! Who says he broke up with me?” “Kat, girl, it’s you…” head cocked, twinge of guilt, but ultimately not a wrongful assessment “Yeah, well, ya girl grew a pair tonight. My bitch ass left his bitch ass.” Sassy really isn’t my forte, but I gave it a go. “Oh, now I need to hear the full story.” Behind my head I heard a window crank open, that particular window was in the kitchen which looked directly out over the portion of the front yard in which we were currently standing. Phoenix and I both turned from the intruding noise. “Seriously, guys?” Micah deadpanned from the window – his hair was askew, his eyes red, and a cigarette was hanging from his lips “DON’T SMOKE INSIDE” Phoenix and I yelled in unison, looking at each other and giggling like schoolgirls “Yeah, my house, my rules, now seriously fuck off.” And with that little nugget, he stalked off to probably watch porn right in the living room because apparently the house was now a lawless land. “I really hate that guy” Phoenix noted “I really know you do.” “What were you thinking?” he whined “I have asked myself that every day for the past 5 years.”

The drive to Phoenix’s house took decidedly longer than nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds, probably because we took back roads so we could listen to music longer – something we had always done. There was always singing, usually dancing, and more than a few times there were tears. After minor protest, he helped me carry in my groceries. Unlocking the door, he flicked on the light to reveal the home he had been pouring his heart into renovating for the past two years. The coffee table was new – he built it. “Just put the groceries on the counter and I’ll help you put them up.” He whispered “Thanks – I would say we could just toss them and start over, but these are kind of my only worldly possessions right now, and I’m a little attached.” I whispered back, because duh. “I understand – it’s hard to not get attached to…” plucking a random box out of my bags, “tender whites popcorn.” He said, still whispering. “Hey, P, did you get a roommate?” “Hell, naw, why?” “Why are we whispering?” “Ha!” he laughed, louder now, “in my head we were sneaking into one of our parents’ houses. God, sometimes in my head we’re still teenagers.” He was clearly reminiscing. “I wish things were still that simple.” I released on a sigh “Well, do you wanna sleep or talk?” he was never one to tiptoe around the delicate “Honestly? Sleep. I promise I’ll give you the full story over the coffee you make me in the morning “God” he snorted “you will never change, huh?” “Here’s hoping.” “Wouldn’t want you any other way. The guest room is made up, you know the way, I’m hitting the hay. If you need anything, keep it to your damn self because I’m sleepy. Love you, bestie.” He gave me a quick hug – because even after being friends for most of our lives, neither of us was particularly physically demanding “I love you, too, P. I’ll see you in the morning. Thanks for saving my ass, again.” “Anytime, KK.” We parted ways, him walking to his master bedroom, and me walking to the guest bedroom situated directly across the short hallway. He paused at his door, and looked back at me “Kat?” I paused, and turned as well, “yeah, Phoenix?” “…welcome back.” “Where had I gone?” “Nowhere good.” The pain was obvious on his face “You’re not wrong, bestie. You’re not wrong.” “You’ll get through this.” “I always do.” “I’ll be right here.” “… you always are” I added before finally closing my door. I guess, in a way, I was back. Like waking up after a deep sleep riddled with nightmares, full of monsters and shadows holding you down and filling you with a sense of inferiority. I suppose, in some small measure, this was one of the first monumental moments of clarity in my fog-riddled existence. I only wish I had stayed up my upward trajectory, stayed full of hope and happiness, kept the lightness of losing a boyfriend-sized weight. Ah, well, I wouldn’t have much of a story to tell then, now would I?

Just be held

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yutmTFtalKs&pbjreload=10&scrlybrkr=f27aac51&fbclid=IwAR0ZwLjgyPJ-zDbNYiSU-29eJtrxFh493dh7Na0kxRBp_6GZKN24scaYIUw

As I sit here writing this, I've brainstormed and tried to find a way to get out of writing what's on my heart. Winter is here. The air is cold and the weight of the world can be heavy just like the snow that (will eventually someday be here in the stinking state of Ohio) falls from the sky. I look around me and see pain. Just this past week, I've gotten bad news after bad news. A friend is sick in the hospital with kidney stones, another is losing her house, one is having marriage struggles, another financial struggles. I have other friends who are struggling with their self-worth and some that are just so run-down that they can't see their way out of today, let alone tomorrow.  We've had a problem on our farm lately: death. As the cold winter months roll around, I find myself worrying. I worry about our home being warm enough. I worry about what gifts we will put under the tree and if we will have enough money to buy what I want to buy. I worry about about our animals. The extreme cold and the extreme heat is never good on outdoor animals. I'm still learning how to care for these animals, and I find myself completely overwhelmed. Recently, we've lost one animal to the cold and another for unforeseen reasons. Just this morning, one of our chickens went missing. I have no idea where it went. I struggle with guilt: I'm doing too much, my kids should be doing more (then maybe this wouldn't fall on my shoulders). I then try to get out of it: "I never wanted this farm anyway. I'm done helping." Then, I can just ignore the stress completely. Really, both are lies. I can't get out of something that I am obviously a part of. I also can't blame anyone else for the problem (just like no one can blame me). Really, the problem is worry. Worry, worry, worry..... Ugh. Why do I worry about everything? Why?

Anyone else with me? I mean, every. single. day. seems to be filled with some sort of doom or dismay. I just realized this past weekend that I spent the whole weekend in a bad mood because I was worried about something. What a waste. It's funny because I looked down today at my keys after arguing with Anthony about my responsibilities on this farm and saw a keychain that my friend had given me last year. It says, "Don't worry about anything, instead, pray about everything," Philippians 4:6. Trust in God. Duh... It also says in Matthew 6:25-27 “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?”

We don't know what tomorrow will bring. We don't know what the future holds. I may not even know what will happen 5 minutes from now, but minute by minute, God promises to hold us. He never promises that bad things will not happen, but He does promise that He will hold us through any storm that we go through.

Lean on God today. Feel his presence in your life. Also, try reaching out to those who are hurting. Be a friend, pray with them. Don't ignore that little voice inside of you that is telling you to go and sit with someone, or bring them a coffee, or send them a little note. It may be God working through you. Also, don't give up. Keep going.

Have a happy Tuesday (and pray for my farm). Go bless someone today.

Motorcity: Join Me, Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own Motorcity or the listed characters Title: Join Me Rating: T+ Summary: AU, Chuck and Mike never met in Deluxe; Chuck is leader of the Burners and Mike is still Kane’s Commander. Despite being enemies, Chuck and Mike find themselves having feelings for each other, but are both too stubborn to leave their sides of Detroit. Pairings: MikexChuck, DutchxTennie, FoxyxClaire(implied) Warnings: Don’t read if you don’t like or are triggered by violence or dystopian societies Author’s Note: For the sake of the AU to work Chuck is OOC and some events have been slightly changed.

~~~ 19: If Tomorrow Never Comes Chuck continued to flip Mike off, not saying a single word. The brunet cleared his throat to break up the awkward silence “Can you… please stop flipping me off so we can talk?” He started approaching him. Chuck scoffed, but didn’t put his middle finger down.

“Oh? Talk about what? How lovely the weather must be up here? Sports? Or how about how your boss is trying to kill me?” Chuck shakily stood up “And if you’ve come here for one last booty call, I’m afraid I’ve got a headache, and a faceache, and an everything ache because Red’s been using me as a punching bag for hours.” He bit his lip and finally ended his one-fingered salute to the officer. He didn’t know if he was weak-kneed because of how many times Red had kicked his knees and shins, or if it was because he was at the mercy of Mike Chilton, he really wanted it to be the former but knowing himself it was probably the latter.

When the brunet was close enough, Chuck tried to punch him, but Mike ducked down slightly and wrapped his arms under his and around his chest, pulling him into a tight hug “I’m so glad you’re okay.” The military officer told him gently, hugging him for all he was worth and not giving the blond any wiggle room whatsoever “I didn’t know about the plan until you were already captured, I thought… I came here as soon as I heard, I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“A little late for that isn’t it.” Chuck narrowed his eyes angrily and thankfully Mike was hugging him so tightly the shorter of the two had no way of looking at his face and seeing his lips quiver and his eyes glisten “Hurt me? Mike Chilton you’ve got some nerve. You /heard/ Kane, he’s going to kill me.” He told him harshly.

“No, shhhh, he won’t, I won’t let that happen.” Mike continued to try to comfort him but it didn’t seem to work well, and he knew it wouldn’t because he knew his ex boyfriend to be too logical to believe emotional appeals, when he looked up at him he paused noticing a detail he hadn’t noticed earlier because of the poor lighting “What’s wrong with your eye Chuck?” His left eye wasn’t the same maya-blue shade as as his right, not only was it swollen almost shut, but the iris was a glistening silver almost… almost metallic. “I don’t have a left eye Mike,” Chuck admitted weakly, as he realized his contact lens must have fallen out when Red had given him a black eye. “Your lackey Tooley beat me to near death before I left Deluxe, I lost my eye. I’ve had a bionic one.”

Mike frowned further “Chuck…” He trailed off, tucking some of Chucks hair behind his ear in a further attempt to comfort him. Chuck hated it, he really hated it, but given their history together and his own present unfortunate situation he was melting the Kane Co commanders arms. “Save it Mike, you had to see this happen. You wanted Kane to win and if he did win, what did you think would happen, they’d put me in a white and blue jumpsuit and I’d go back to being a law abiding Deluxian? I’m a registered terrorist in Deluxe, and nothing you could do would have saved me from persecution.” He wrenched himself out of the commanders embrace “Just… Just leave Mike. I’ll probably die but dammit you haven’t killed my team. They’re good people, and they won’t let Motorcity fall… Just, just leave me alone.”

“You know I can’t do that Chuckles.” Mike reminded him and gently held up the others chin, which was more humorous than sweet because of the height difference between them “I still love you.” Chuck’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his resolve. “Yeah well you also love your nation… and I love my city… ” Chuck responded, once again pulling away from him “Kane’s going to destroy my city, Mike.”

“He’s relocating all of the residents Chuck, no one’s going to get hurt.”

“Are you blind or just that gullible? If something comes up, Kane’s would sacrifice thousands with no remorse. And the seeds of dissent were sown in every Motorcitizen and have blossomed for years. No one will become an obedient Deluxian like you.”

Silence roared between them. Mike stood still, now about two feet away from Chuck, whose gaze was turned to the ground. “What we had…” Chuck began, looking back at him, Mike was surprised to see a defeated look in his eyes. “I loved what we had. I loved you Mike.” He admitted, and Mike’s heart twisted at them impending ‘but’ “But we were so stupid to think we could somehow make it work. I couldn’t have you and Motorcity. You couldn’t have me and Deluxe. That’s why we ended, that’s why we can’t be together. That’s why I have no clue what exactly you thought you’d accomplish by seeing me here.”

“I… I just want to help you Chuck.” Mike surprised Chuck this time by his statement ending off in small whimper. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want to hurt you-”

“Don’t you get it you dumbass, we’re way past that!” Chuck shouted, the suddenness of his raised voice made the brunet take a step back in shock, Chuck composed himself but his face still held a sour look “It’s not our fault we love our causes more than we loved each other. But damn it Mike it still hurt-” Mike shut him up by grabbing his face and slamming his lips against his - it was an effective way of shutting him up to because the familiar but sudden action. Chuck’s eyes widened, and his body froze in place. For a moment everything seemed to freeze. Slowly, but surely, Chuck’s eyes closed and he pressed back. 

Old habits died hard. If they ever died at all.

When oxygen became required, Mike pulled away but the deepness of the kiss resulted in a string of saliva between them, further proof of Chuck’s weakness for the other. “I’m going to help you…” Mike promised, and held both of Chuck’s shackled hands in his own. The Burner’s hands were shaking.

“Do you really want to help me?” Chuck asked softly.

“Yes Chuck, I do.”

“I need you to save my friends… To save Motorcity.”

“Chuck-”

“Mike nothing you do is going to stop my death sentence. Nothing. I don’t want to die for nothing. And the Duke was not only willing to sell me out, but sell out all of Motorcity. He’d sell you out if it was convenient for him.” Chuck warned him, and Mike realized he was right. While he did want both sides of Detroit to be unified as they should be, there was no telling what would happen if Duke outed him for having Chuck as a lover. “Do you remember the green car?”

“Well yeah-” Before the soldier could finish, the rebel leader reached into his back pocket and gave Mike a set of keys attached to a skull-head keychain. “These are the keys to that green car, it’s probably still with the Duke. Just… Just do what you have to.”

Mike looked to the keys, and he thought long and hard. The Genesis Pod, if it came to full fruition, would destroy Motorcity, all of the residents would become part of Deluxe. And Mike was loyal to Deluxe, it was his home and he was sworn to it’s people. However…. He didn’t want Motorcity destroyed, it was different from Deluxe, and in comparison it was almost backwards in it’s ways. But it had a right to exist, a right Chuck and the Burners have been fighting fiercely for. “I will Chuck.” Mike agreed, and pecked his lips again quickly “Sit tight okay, everything’s going to be fine.” Giving him another quick squeeze of a hug, Mike ran out of the room.

“I don’t know about that, Mike…” Chuck admitted in a hoarse whisper to himself, wondering if he’d made the right move in trusting Mike.

~~~

Mike walked out of the holding cell and was surprised to see Julie, the intern appeared to be messing with some sort of file, and he was about to question her when he heard his boss’s voice “WHAT? The Duke double crossed us AND you let the Burner’s get away with their cars?!” He saw Kane was yelling at Tooley, who looked guilty as he usually did when stuff like this happened. Which was all of the time.

“Uhhm,” Tooley was scratching his head to think of an excuse “At least we’ve still got the Burner’s leader.”

“You idiot!” Kane yelled again, something so common for him to say it must have been an impulse at this point. Mike slowly walked over, he might have to diffuse a situation if one rose, but it was unnecessary as Kane sighed and rubbed his temples “Clearly I’m just going to have to handle this myself. This ends now…” Something about the tone of his voice made Mike’s hand shake, and clearly he wasn’t the only one, he looked over to Julie and they knew they had to step in.

“Sir!” Mike called, nipping at their leader’s heels with Julie as well “Sir, what’s going on? Sir, stop.” At that, Kane did stop on his way into his pod, and turned to them, albeit appearing annoyed.

“Just listen to us.” Julie pleaded “You promised you’d give the Motorcitizens time to evacuate, doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“This isn’t a debate.” Kane informed both of them sternly, “You want to know what real leadership is? It’s making the hard choices,” with that, the red haired man yanked Mike’s arm, pulling his military commander in with him “You’ll learn that one day…” Mike believed he was talking to him… but the way he looked at Julie when he said that, it seemed to insinuate something he had no idea of. Julie tried to call them down in vain “You can’t do this, just listen-” The door to the pod slammed shut, and they flew off. Mike swallowed hard, and he looked to the dash panel to see that the Genesis Pod was at 30%.

—

Chuck had barely gotten a minute to himself when the door opened again, he weakly looked up expecting to see either Red or Mike again, but was surprised to see Julie run in. “Chuck… ” She whispered sorrowfully, but clearly in a rush still.

He looked up, covering his left eye with his hand so he wouldn’t have to give her a nasty surprise “You shouldn’t be here!” He told her, almost in a commanding tone. This didn’t appear to phase her, as she immediately turned to the prison access panel, button mashing away no doubt trying to free him.

The fail safe voice of the panel kept repeating “Access Denied” in a monotonous mantra.

“You have to get out of here!” Chuck covered up his left eye with his blood and sweat soaked bangs as he rose onto his feet “If they catch you-”

“Come on…” Julie whispered fiercely to herself and she continued to try and fail to crack the system. Which wasn’t going to happen; Kane knew who he was imprisoning, he had imprisoned one of the greatest hackers in Motorcity, he wasn’t going to put anything in that access panel besides some of the greatest anti hackware. And Julie was getting frustrated.

Chuck looked to the door, getting as frantic as she was “They’re going to be back any second.” He informed her, putting more emphasis in his tone

“Good, let them find me!” She retorted.

“Blowing your cover won’t help me.” He reminded her.

Boiling over, she kicked the wall and turned to him in a huff “Well I don’t know what will!” Once the brunt of the frustration was out for him to see, she huffed out a sigh and looked to the side.

He walked over to her “Do you know why I asked you to stay behind the other day?” He inquired, using the full extent of a ‘big brother’ tone as possible.

The younger Burner was looking to the floor “To watch your back…” She replied softly. “Look where that got you..” His heart panged, he did not want his friend to blame herself for his capture, at all. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Her forehead rested against his chest softly, and this was probably the most physically contact they had received from each other. Neither of them were particularly touchy, and never had been, but the situation was dire and stressful.

He looked to the ground as well “I knew that if something happened, you’d be there to pick up the pieces.” He told her. Julie was the youngest Burner, she was fifteen when they met and was not even eighteen yet; but he could see in her the qualities of a leader he himself didn’t even possess, she was strong but level headed, and if he would leave to Burner’s to anyone, it would be her. Touched by his words, Julie looked up at him at first surprised, but then she smiled softly, and he smiled back down at her.

Just then the door opened, and Tooley stepped in. Once the light from the adjacent hallway hit them and made them visible, Tooley called out “Hey! Who’s there?” Julie did the only thing that could be done to cover her ass in this situation.

She slapped him so hard he ended up spinning as he fell back to the ground. Damn, for such a small hand she had a hell of a slap.

Julie then ran back to Tooley feigning fear “Julie…?” Tooley inquired, confused to see the intern there.

“I-I don’t know what happened.” She lied on the spot “I was bring him food, l-like you asked me to.”

“I asked you to?” He echoed, confused as usual.

“Yeah,” she ‘confirmed’ and continued her excuse “and then he tried to make a move so I uh, I uh, I hit him!” Oh the deep red five-star on Chuck’s pale face really cemented in that story. “Oh, Tooley,” she continued to play damsel in distress by ‘hiding’ into the henchman “I was so scared.”

Kane’s goon hugged her back, and Chuck’s stomach churned at the sight and he could almost feel the ghost of his left eye tear up, remembering how the seemingly infantile man had beaten him almost to death “There, there. Tooley’s gotcha.” He turned to Chuck with a reprimanding look of disgust “How could you?” He scoffed lowly, and escorted Julie out of the cell.

Chuck was once again left sitting there in the dark. Once the shock finally settled, he groaned aloud “Oh great, now they’re going to add pedophile to my criminal record aren’t they?”

— About ten minutes or so after the incident with Julie, Chuck was still slumped against the wall but at this point was nearly asleep, when someone else walked into the cell. “Oh come on how many visitors am I going to get today? I was sleeping.” He hissed sarcastically.

“Kane wanted to deal with you himself, but,” Red said from behind his visor, as he walked up to the blond menacingly and then stopped barely a foot away “I got sick of waiting.”

“Yeah, I have that effect on men.” Chuck said with his usual mocking grin, but he didn’t bother to open his eyes or look up.

Red knelt down, so used to Chuck’s remarks by now they didn’t phase him as much as they used to “Don’t tell me you’re tired. I’m just getting started.” He chuckled.

“I love a guy who can get it up.” Chuck couldn’t help but put a double-meaning to his enemy’s words. However, this didn’t stop him from rushing Red and tackling him. Red reacted immediately by trying to push his off but the Burner responded by weaving an arm over his neck and slinking behind him.

With Chuck literally on his back, Red forced them both backwards against the wall, smashing the Motorcitizen between the wall and his body, but this didn’t deter Chuck in the slightly as he continued to apply a chokehold. They’d removed the booster from his wrist. However, they didn’t know he had another booster in his bionic eye.

Red elbowed Chuck hard in the ribs and then used the arm over his neck to quickly snap forward and arm-throw Chuck off of him and toss him back to the ground.

Chuck looked up angrily at Red - the iris of his bionic eye was now flashing red, and his other eye was completely flushed scarlet. While he’d put a fear inhibitor function on the booster that he’d kept on his wrist, the booster in his eye followed the original function of just enhancing physical abilities.

With Chuck on the ground again, Red attempted to stomp him, when Chuck moved out of the way he tried to punch his head but Chuck rushed him again this time with a headbutt and a shove with his shoulder. Now back on his feet, Red started boxing at him, but Chuck guarded his head, neck and torso with his wrists. And then shoved Red away, finally creating some distance between them.

Red stood his ground, looking more annoyed than threatened. Chuck panted, he was having a hard time breathing now for some reason and the never used booster in his eye made his entire face tingle even worse with the amount of facial trauma he’d already sustained. Yet he grinned, and did the universal ‘bring it’ motion with the left hand.

At the gesture, Red charged his fists with his characteristic bright red electricity, and rushed at him. He threw his first back and threw it forward in a punch, giving Chuck the opening he was looking for. He dodged the punch and got the the side of Red’s arm, and grabbed it in both of his, making sure that his hard-light energy shackles wrapped around the electrical gauntlets of Red’s fists that were still sparking.

The resulting interaction between the shackles and the gauntlets had the consequence he was hoping for - the electricity of the gauntlets overcharged the shackles, and there was a combustive force that threw Red across the room, and did the same to Chuck; although now the blond was finally free. The blunt force knocked Red out since he hit the back of his head directly, but since Chuck landed on his side he managed to stay conscious. Chuck shakily got up, he was still panting, he still couldn’t seem to catch his breath, and he ran out of the holding cell.

And immediately was barraged by blasts from Kane’s security bots.

“I hate my life.” Chuck wheezed as he sprinted down the hallway, at this point the only thing keeping him from getting blasted was blind faith. Which actually seemed to work.

Now out of the signal-blocking holding cell, his comm systems resurrected and almost immediately Julie’s pop-up call head came out “JUMP OUT OF THE BUILDING!” She commanded.

“Julie I know you want to help, but now’s not the time to compassionately take me out of my suffering.”

“JUST DO IT!” There was enough of a growl in the inflection of her voice that for a second, he was more afraid of whatever consequence she would impose on him for not listening to her than the thought of death by jumping out of a building, bracing himself he rammed his shoulder into the glass of a window and started ascending hard towards the ground.

“Um, Julie? JULIEEEE!” He shouted, his right eye teared up hard.

Then he was scooped up by her pod.

He hit the ground hard and groaned, his chest felt so tight…. Actually, he could only feel one side of his chest rise normally.

“You can never just stay put and wait for a rescue can you, lab rat?” Julie said humorously, and offered her hand to help him up, he shakily took her hand, still wheezing.

“I-If Red wanted to be my lover, he’s gotta get with my friends.” Chuck couldn’t help a reference, although Julie didn’t get it. He kept struggling to breath and hastily took his shirt off.

“What are you doing?” Julie asked confused.

“R-Red elbowed me really hard in the chest, and it was aggravated by a blast I’m g-g-getting a tension pneumothorax.” He told her, he breathed hard and started counting his ribs starting from the center of his collarbone, and stopped his finger under his second rib right above his third rib. “Give me a straw and a knife.”

“What are you-”

“Julie please!” He yelled out hoarsely, she scrambled and managed to get him the requested items. He rolled up his shirt and bit down on it. Shutting his eyes hard he sunk the tip of the knife into the intercostal space, and once he heard a hiss he dropped the knife and shoved one tip of the straw into the hole. The tension is his chest started to lesson as trapped air escaped and his lung had room to expand, he signed out in relief but tears were pouring down the right side of his face from the pain. With a shaky hand he cut the straw short, and used some duct tape to keep the straw in place. He’d need proper treatment for his pneumothorax soon. He would really have to thank Jacob soon for all those crash courses in field medicine.

Still taking deep breaths, he put his blue shirt back on. Although still concerned, Julie approached him again “I think you forgot something.” She held out his earlier confiscated blue Burner’s jacket.

“Thank you, Julie.” He replied sincerely.

—

For several minutes Julie tried to re-establish contact with the other Burners, and during that time Chuck sat and waiting, hoping that his tension pneumothorax wouldn’t return. He was truthfully glad it was just a pneumothorax and not a hemopneumothorax, because a straw wouldn’t cut it if his lungs were filling with blood with air.

“Dutch, Dutch!” Julie called as she finally got back in touch with the Whiptail driver. “I’ve got Chuck! What’s your status?”

“Chuck? Thank god you’re back!” Dutch repeated, sounding relieved and excited, but this died down quickly “Now help us fix this.” Pop-up screens of the Genesis Pod appeared, with that appeared to be some form of hard light circuits branching off of it. “We hit the Genesis Pod with Bessie-”

“Bessie?” Julie repeated.

“That’s what we named the weapon. But the pod’s defenses just heal itself.” He explained in a panic.

“We’re going to have to take out the control module.” Julie said as she looked up to her leader.

“Where’s that?” Dutch and Chuck asked in unison.

A crestfallen look crossed Julie’s face. “Kane’s Warpod.” She told them.

“Is there any way we can get inside?” Out of habit Chuck crossed his arms momentarily - before the sharp pain of his shabby chest decompression stabbed him hard enough to make him drop his arms again with a cringe.

Julie looked around as she thought hard “I can think of a way. Chuck,” she turned to the blond rebel leader “take me hostage.”

—

Mike stood behind his leader in the warpod as said man was typing away at the progress of the Genesis Pod. His heart was sinking as the scheme of Motorcity’s destruction was drawing closer and closer with each passing moment. “Sir…” Mike started, keeping composure “I’m… Not sure about this?”

“What’s there not to be sure of, Commander Chilton?” Kane began, not bothering to turn around, and if he had he would definitely see the confliction clear in Mike’s face “You’ll be standing by my side as we build a better world from Motorcity’s ashes. This will be our victory Chilton, /ours/.”

“Ours…” Mike repeated, but much quieter. Now that he thought about it, Kane used words like us, we and ours quite a lot… Up to this point, Mike had always assumed that the nation’s leader was referring to all the people of Deluxe collectively. Now… The more he thought about it, the more and more apparent it was that Kane was referring to them. Them as in, himself and Mike. Just them.

Their relationship was beyond that of simply just a soldier and his commanding officer. Kane had singled him out since even before he was a cadet, grooming him… like a father and son.

Mike was too eager to follow his orders, to be something far greater than himself. He wanted… he wanted…

He had wanted to be just like Abraham Kane.

Now that he watched the screen of the Genesis Pod’s progress however, the one thing he did know was that he definitely didn’t want to kill hundreds of thousands of people.

He remembered what Chuck said… everything that Chuck had said. Every time he told Mike that he was sheltered, that he was clueless, that he was a cinnamon roll whatever that was. All the time’s he told him that he had no individuality and freedom.

He was the commander of Kane’s Army, but in the end… He wasn’t so much Michael Chilton as he was an extension of Kane.

Suddenly his bosses comm screen came to life, and Mike was shocked to see the battered and bruised face of Chuck there, standing in what seemed to be a pod.

“Hello Abraham.” Chuck greeted gruffly.

“Charles Torrence.” Kane growled in rage, and Mike wasn’t sure if he was more surprised by the call or by the fact that Chuck actually had a full name. “Where did you- how did you-!”

“I have someone I think you might.” Chuck coldly cut him off.

“A hostage?” The red-headed ruler insinuated, then laughed “We both know you’d never hurt a civilian.” That was a sentiment about Chuck that Mike had to agree with, surely Chuck could never harm a soul, let alone an innocent one.

With that the Burner let out a cold, cruel laugh of his own “I’m a programmer Kane. I’m a man of logic, not a man of emotion. There’s a lot of immoral things a scientist is willing to do for the greater good. /You/ taught me that, Kane.”

The Kane Co commander wasn’t sure what to think, with all of the one on one confrontations he had with Chuck (of war, and pleasure), he’d never seen him act so cold and detached.

“I’ll give her back, when you turn off the Genesis Pod.” Chuck finished. Mike’s eyes widened at what his ex-lover was suggesting, a gesture that Kane did as well.

“Her…?” Kane questioned, his tone confirmed that he and his soldier were thinking of the same person.

Chuck reached over off screen and forcefully pulled Julie close to him, his face cold and devoid of all emotion.

“HELP! PLEASE!”

—

Something about this was wrong, very wrong. His ex-boyfriend holding his close friend and colleague hostage was wrong on it’s own. But this… this wasn’t logically right either.

Although Julie appeared to be a meek intern, Mike knew her better than that. She was tough, she was strong, she was stubborn she was, she was a god damn survivor, a way better one than most of Mike’s personally trained soldiers. And for some reason, she was very well versed in most forms of defense combat anyways.

She was by no means a damsel in distress.

Not to mention that Chuck was no perpetrator.

For one thing, he could barely even talk to women let alone hold one hostage. And he wasn’t very physically strong either, and Mike knew from the whiteness of his sclera that he wasn’t on his booster at the time of the call. Even if he was stronger than Julie, she was strong enough to give him a hell of a fight. Chuck didn’t have any scratches (Red dealt blunt for and electrical trauma, not scratches) to indicate a struggle, and Julie didn’t have a mark on her either. And for the majority of the call, Chuck wasn’t even holding her down in any way. There was no way Julie would just be a passive prisoner.

Kane was too panicked to see it the way that Mike saw it either, as he rushed his war pod to the rendezvous point. Maybe the ruler was still somewhat set in the old ways and could only see girls and women as damsels…? While it would be easy to say that Mike’s lingering affection for Chuck was the reason that he doubted this whole thing, the logic just didn’t fit.

Kane stopped his pod and beckoned Mike to follow him, the two of them climbed to the top of the pod and from the roof they saw Chuck holding Julie. Although, Mike immediately noticed he wasn’t holding her too firmly, the blond seemed to quickly whisper something to the intern, but she said nothing in response. Kane looked down almost gently at Julie, which caught Mike off guard, but then his angry look reappeared as he looked back up at the rebel leader. The commander looked back to his former lover as well; Chuck side-eyed him sadly but only for a moment.

“Let’s get on with it.” Kane grumbled.

“It’s simple,” Chuck began, holding both of Julie’s biceps as he held her in front of him, raising more suspicion in Mike, as it was a weak hold and Julie could easily wrench out of it “I’ll send her over, she turns off the Genesis Pod, and then I’ll surrender. No escapes, no protests.” Chuck bargained.

“And what happens if I don’t agree to your terms?” Kane challenged back, Mike looked to Julie and tried to mouth that it would be okay, but she wasn’t looking at him. “Don’t tell me you came all the way up here with just a bluff.” He took a threatening step forward.

“One more step and I drop her!” Chuck threatened, pushing her forward just a little bit but still gripping her.

“No you won’t!” The Deluxe ruler spat back at him “You don’t have the stomach for this.”

Mike noticed Julie’s facial expression change ever so slightly, she looked down, then at her captor.

And then Chuck seemed to push her off of the edge, and then catch her before she could descend for real.

“N-No!” Kane shouted, getting into a defensive stance. Chuck was holding Julie, dangling her off the edge. He was the only thing that standing between her and a violent death.

Mike however, wasn’t as blinded by fear as his boss was; he saw right through it all. Julie had pressed herself back into Chuck and flung her own self over to make it look like he was pushing her, but she was clearly moving on her own will, it was especially easy to see because Chuck had the same horrified look on his face as Kane.

This was staged.

This wasn’t a hostage situation at all.

But why… how was Julie in on this?

Chuck gave Kane a threatening look “I should let her go.” He challenged.

“No wait!” The ruler of Deluxe nearly stammered “I’ll do it,” he finally agreed, defeated, which Mike didn’t see coming. He knew that Julie was treated a lot better than other interns, but he didn’t realize that their boss cared about her this much, to this extreme “just, don’t hurt her.” He pleaded. “Please!”

With a bit of a cough and a huff, Chuck struggled to heave Julie back onto the roof “If I didn’t know you better, I’d almost believe you cared.”

‘That make’s two of us…’ Mike wordlessly agreed.

Slowly, Chuck had the pod approach the war pod, until it was close enough for Julie to walk over. She said something quietly to their boss that Mike didn’t catch. However, he did catch Kane’s words to her “It’s okay,” he replied, and his eye’s narrowed as he kept them fixated on his long time thorn in his side “you’ll be safe soon.”

Julie stopped in her tracks and she tried to whirl around but was whisked away by a forcefield. “No! No!” She shouted as she pounded against the hard light. This confirmed Mike’s theory; this wasn’t a hostage situation, this was a coup, somehow Chuck got her on his side. And Kane didn’t notice any of this.

“No!” Chuck yelled, dejected as the red-haired girl was pulled away. His only leverage in this situation.

“Now…” Kane began, and he curled his fists “Let’s finish this!” He yelled and charged at the blond. Mike followed, but he had no intention of attacking Chuck.

It wasn’t much of a fight, Chuck pressed against his bionic eye which activated his booster, but that still didn’t compare to someone of such greater size, strength and fight skill. Chuck didn’t stand a chance. But he tried, oh did he try. He was a scrapper at heart, he was going to try to fight until the bloody end no matter how much it hurt him. In less than a minute, he was standing with blood running down his face from his forehead, even more busted up and broken than earlier. 

The blonde could barely stand, he was wobbling as he tried to get into a fighting stance, and Kane wasn’t having any of it “Pathetic….” He snarled and threw his fist back for a fishing blow.

“No!” Mike shouted and threw himself between Chuck and Kane.

Kane was shocked.

Chuck was shocked.

Mike was still conflicted, he wasn’t thinking straight.

“Chilton what are you doing!” His boss barked, “Get out of my way!”

“I won’t let you hurt him!” Mike shouted back, his words had little to no thought behind them, yet so much at the same time.

“Chilton step aside-”

“I love him!”

Silence, at first Kane was dumbstruck, and then he just became angry all over again. And even more so this time. Meanwhile, Chuck could barely register what was going on, he definitely had a concussion at this point, and his makeshift decompression needle had fallen out, so his pneumothorax was returning, and he was bleeding profusely not just from his head, but internally as well. He could taste the coppery red fluid dripping out of his mouth. He was so disoriented, so afraid… so…so…

So sure he was going to die.

He whimpered and weakly gripped the back of Mike’s jacket, and before he knew it Kane was holding both of them over the edge of the building by the fronts of their shirts.

“You’re choosing some sewer rat over Deluxe!” Kane roared into Mike’s face “You were like a son to me! You could have had it all!”

“I’d never stand by you in a world build on the graves of thousands of innocent people! That was never going to happen!” Mike shouted back.

“…I know that now.” Kane said, in the most chilling voice either of the two younger men in his grasp had ever heard.

And he dropped them.

Chuck feebly looked to the ground, it was far away now but it would be close all too soon. He was vaguely aware of Mike holding his hand, and the comforting sound of his voice. Mike was so brave… And Chuck still loved him so much… He’d just literally fought against his own tyrannical ruler, and gotten thrown off of a building, for the greater good. And he was still trying to comfort him, even as they were falling to their deaths.

Some shitbag of a leader and a lover Chuck was, he couldn’t return all of the sentiments Mike was giving him, he couldn’t be the strong one here, he couldn’t comfort Mike back or even tell him that he still loved him.

All he could think of was death.

All he could think of was how close he was to death.

All he could think of was how scared he was.

—

Author’s note: Chuck isn’t quite as accepting to his ‘fate’ as Mike was in the original series. And there you have it, now all that’s left is the epilogue. And just to make it clear, Mike did not just betray Kane for Chuck’s sake. Yeah his love for Chuck is what made him save his life, but the reason he went so far as to disobey Kane was because the whole Genesis Pod thing made him realize that Kane was a genocidal megalomaniac.

Strange, To Say The Least

Characters: Castiel x Reader, Sam (mentioned), Dean (mentioned)

Word Count: 1,711

Warnings: None, this is pretty fluffy. 

Summary: You take Cas on a date because you needed time to unwind. Who knew Cas could make a date so technical?

Author’s Note: Okay, this has been just hanging around for months. I am not confident about this at all but I hope you like it! This isn’t beta’d at all and this is the first time I am looking at this for a long time. Please, if you want to be tagged, leave an ask or message and I’ll add you! Same goes for my Series Rewrite!

Feedback is always appreciated

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Your name: submit What is this?

Castiel, please come down. I need you. You thought as you sat alone in your room. Before you could finish your prayer to him, you heard the familiar fluttering of wings and Castiel was sitting next to you.

“You needed me?” He asked.

“Yes I did. Sam and Dean are out on a hunt they didn’t want me going on and I’m bored. Since you’re my boyfriend, I want to go out on a date with you.” Castiel became your boyfriend when he became human. He was new to all the human emotions and eating new foods and trying to live without his grace and his wings.

You were the one to show him around and take him out on friend dates to show him how the world work. You never planned on falling for him but it just happened. You spent all your time with him, watching movies, going to different restaurants, and going on a different date each week. With each one that passed, you fell for him more and more because he wasn’t Castiel, Angel of the Lord, he was Cas, the human, and you got to know who he was truly.

Because Cas didn’t know what he was feeling, he told you every little detail, trying to get a grasp on what emotion was which. Nonetheless, he fell for you and you made the first move when you pressed your lips to his. As the phrase goes, the rest was history.

Now he was back to being an Angel and had to go to Heaven a lot but that didn’t stop you from being with him. He made time for you whenever he could and it more than you could ask for.

“A date? Where would you like to go?”

“Well if you need to get back to Heaven, I’ll wait for you. Sam and Dean won’t get back in a couple of days.”

“No, I am not at all busy, I’m all yours,” He smiled and stared at you. You looked into his blue eyes and momentarily got lost in them. “Y/N?” He asked and you blinked, trudging into reality.

“Aquarium,” You saw the confusion in his eyes and elaborated. “I think we should go to an aquarium. They have a really good one here in Kansas. We can take one of the cars that Dean doesn’t let me use and we can spend the whole day there. I love marine life; I’ve always found them fascinating.” You smiled.

“Of course. I would love to accompany you to the aquarium.” You smiled and got up, walking over to the closet and picking out a warm outfit to where because it was the winter time and you didn’t want to freeze. You got changed in front of Cas and you could feel his eyes never leaving you. You got dressed in jeans, a long sleeve shirt, a coat and a pair of boots.

You grabbed Cas’ hand when you finished and walked with him to where Dean kept all the keys to the cars in the garage. Grabbing one, you walked inside the garage and walked to the car it belonged to. Getting in with Cas, you started it and drove away from the Bunker.

“Are you sure we should be taking one of these cars? You know Dean won’t be too happy.” Cas said.

“What Dean doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Plus, what’s the point of having all those cars and not driving them?” You shrugged it off and continued to drive. You reached the aquarium fairly quickly since the roads were pretty empty and parked.

“Have you ever been to an aquarium?” You looked over as Cas and got out.

“I can’t say that I have.” He followed suit and you locked the car.

“You’ll love it; I used to come here all the time when I was a kid. They even let you pet some of the animals.” You grinned up at him, walking inside. You purchased your tickets and they let you inside.

“Where are we going first?” Cas asked as he took a map from one of the counters and looked at it. Because you grew up in Kansas and went to this one all the time, you knew where you were going.

“I know where I’m going, Cas. I’ve been here plenty of times.” You grabbed his hand and laced your finger with his. You walked with him and led him through the hallway and into the main area. In this room, there were many different doorways that you could go into. Over one doorway it said ‘SHARKS’, over another one, it said ‘DOLPHINS’, and it kept doing that over every doorway, an animal name above it.

“Pick where you want to go.” You gave Cas the option. He didn’t say anything as he led you to the sharks. You walked into the room and the ceiling was an arc as the different types of sharks swam above you. Sharks were one of your favorite marine animal so you didn’t mind this being the first stop.

You smiled as you looked above you and watched as the sharks swam, minding their own business, not caring about the humans below them.

“Did you know that the female sharks have a much thicker skin than males because during mating, the males tend to bite the females?” Castiel said as he studied one of the sharks who was staring at him.

“Really? I did not know that, that’s strange.” You looked at the shark with Cas and he turned to you.

“You like it when I bite you.” Your eyes widened and looked around to see if anybody heard that; they didn’t. They were too occupied to listen to you.

“Cas, you don’t go saying things like that.” You blushed heavily.

“But it’s true. You like it when I bite your-” You put a hand over your boyfriend’s mouth and looked at him.

“That’s meant to be private, not to be said in public.” You looked at the other people in the tunnel like room and only saw a few looking at you but other than that, no one cared about you or Cas.

“My apologies.” He said. You took his hand and led him back to the main room and walked towards the turtle section.

“I love sea turtles. They all remind me of Crush.” You giggled, thinking of your favorite Disney movie.

“Crush? Who is that?” Cas tilted his head.

“Come on, Cas. I made you watch the movie Finding Nemo plenty of times. Crush is the sea turtle that Marlin visits on the way to get his son back.” You explain.

“Did you know that the oldest turtle to date goes back 150 million years ago? They were on the earth 85 million years before the dinosaurs. Of course, I was here way before they came.” He said casually. You saw a few people look at you because they heard Cas and you smiled politely at them. Of course you knew he was here since the dawn of time but they didn’t need to know that.

You took him to a secluded area and stared at the turtles.

“While that is a very nice fact, I feel sad for these creatures.” You said.

“Why is that?” He looked down at you.

“We are the reason they are in danger. They are either being caught in our nets or the trash in the ocean, or their habitats are going away because of us, or their eggs and meat is being consumed by us or even other animals. These are magnificent creatures and we are hurting them.” You sighed. You watched from above the turtles that play and swim like they belonged there. Cas didn’t say anything else but watched with you.

After a while, you took him back to the main room and into the jellyfish room. This room was different than the other two. While there was an arc like ceiling, there were two large cylinders and to connect them was the arc.

“Do you have a fact for jellyfish?” You joked as you looked at Cas.

“As a matter of fact, I do. Did you know jellyfish don’t actually have brains? They have a nerve net that can sense changes in the environment.” Your eyes widened at this.

“You’re telling me that these creatures don’t have brains?” You stared at them in wonder. “I mean makes sense because where would it go? These creatures are amazing.” This is how you spent the rest of the day. Wherever you went to see a new animal, Cas would provide a new strange fact for you. You loved how much he knew because you loved learning new things about the things he knew.

You were so curious about everything and anything. You were very glad to be with Castiel. At the end of the date, you walked to the gift shop and looked around. Whenever you went somewhere you had to always get something in the gift shop as a memento.

“Did you want anything?” You looked at Cas and smiled softly.

“I already have everything I need. Why would I want more?” He stared at you. He did make a good point.

“True but it’s nice to buy things for yourself. I always get a small trinket for myself whenever I go somewhere like this.” You picked out a nice keychain and decided on that.

“What about this?” He held up a small sea turtle necklace.

“You would wear that?”

“I was thinking more for you.” You smiled at the thought of it. You walked over to him and took the necklace.

“Thank you, Cas.” You chuckled and leaned up and kissed him. He kissed you back and pulled you close but a clearing of the throat pulled you apart. The older cashier gave you a knowing look and you gve her an apologetic one.

“We’ll get it but you have to wear this,” You held up a jellyfish pin and pointed to his tie. “Right here.” You smiled and he agreed. It was nice to get out of the Bunker for a little bit and spend time with the person you loved most, even if it was for a little while.

Masterlist

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Forever tags:

@love-like-lies @maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @whit85-blog

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@helllonearth​ @duubaduu​

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@jensen-jarpad @notnaturalanahi @deathtonormalcy56 @27bmm

So I'm attending my first protest tomorrow and I know you tend to be a frequent flyer of them, Is there anything in particular I need to know before going to my first? Hope you're doing well!

first off, major apologies for not answering this in a more timely fashion! I hope you stayed safe out there, anon.

y’all know I’m terrible with asks but I’m genuinely not sure how I managed to miss this one. I’m gonna answer it even though some time has elapsed because lbr, this stuff isn’t going away anytime soon.

there are a lot of great resources out there with advice about the more dangerous (and topical) aspects of protesting, so instead of getting into that, I’m gonna link some here: 

Protesters’ Rights (ACLU)

Safety During Protests (Amnesty International)

Dealing with Tear Gas (Occupy Wall Street)

Useful Apps for Protesters (Allure)

Protesting During a Pandemic (LiveScience)

with that covered by the experts, I’m gonna focus on some of the more practical, basic stuff I’ve learned over the years.

G’s tips for attending protests

Use the buddy system. I can’t stress this enough. I strongly advise you not to go to any protest alone, especially if it’s on a larger scale or if you know there’s going to be police presence. Whether it’s a friend, a relative, or someone you trust whom you’ve met through activism, make sure there’s someone with you who knows you, including any medical conditions you have—you’re basically each other’s emergency contact for the day. Decide in advance on a rendezvous point in case you get separated from them. I’ve heard of instances where having a “protest buddy” and asking to stay with them was the difference between getting arrested and thrown in a van vs. being issued a citation and then left alone.

^that’s my sister’s hand holding the sign in the foreground. buddy system!

tons more under the cut!

Don’t rely on your phone. Depending on the size and density of your protest, service may be spotty or data may stop working entirely in some areas. Don’t expect to navigate with GPS, or be able to text/call your group if you get separated. Consider leaving your phone at home or in the car. There are reports of phones being tracked by police in some places, and it’s always possible it’ll get confiscated if you’re detained. If you do bring a phone, I suggest turning off location services.

ok so I don’t always take my own advice

Know the rules and goals for your particular protest. These can vary between locations and organizations, so don’t assume you already know. For example, at most DC protests, only clear backpacks are allowed, and signs may not have wooden sticks or anything that could be used as a weapon. Does everyone follow these rules? Nope—and I rarely see them enforced! But it’s a case of “better safe than sorry.” Don’t give the cops any excuse whatsoever to detain you.

this is a great sign, but I would never carry it using a plank like this

Knowing a protest’s goals and purpose is also important. I read an article last week about a DC BLM event where people were dancing in the street, essentially having a party. The article painted it as though these idiot protestors had shown up and then gotten distracted and stopped taking their movement seriously. But I remembered the same event differently (having both read about it in advance and passed by it on the day of.) What was actually happening was that it was one of several concurrent events—protests, marches, vigils—and this one’s specific goal was to create a safe and positive space for black people to celebrate their blackness. It was supposed to be a party, a form of self-care so that people who’d been suffering could decompress and uplift each other. No one there had lost sight of the movement.

Ideally, find the organizers and follow them on social media! Most organizers are great at breaking down the rules and expectations for a particular protest.

Know your limits—and those of the others in your group—and plan accordingly. Have realistic expectations for how far you’re going to be able to push yourself, physically and otherwise. Do you have chronic pain, or a bad foot? Find somewhere to park yourself early on in the day so you don’t end up walking miles and miles. Is someone in your group claustrophobic? Hang back at the edge of things, or find a high wall to sit on so they aren’t engulfed by crowds. It’s easy to think of protesting as some sort of grand sacrifice where you have to push yourself really hard to prove your commitment to the movement, but you’re not gonna help anyone by collapsing from heat exhaustion. Take breaks, and stay safe, fed, and hydrated. Practice self-care.

Pack light—or heavy, depending on your goals. Unless you’re going to be passing out supplies, I suggest packing light. Invest in a water bottle carrier with a strap, or a fanny pack, or a platypus. Wear something with big pockets, so you can avoid bringing a bag or backpack if possible. It’s especially useful to have your hands free if you’re planning to carry a sign!

my usual protest packing list:

phone (highly optional; see above)

cash (enough to buy a meal, take public transportation, etc)

keys (key singular, actually. I take the one I need off my keychain and leave the others behind.)

metro card

ID

water

energy bar

meds (in my case, a sudafed and an ibuprofen)

I can fit all of this into my pockets except a water bottle. I don’t even bring a wallet.

Conversely, you can take the opposite approach and pack heavy, in order to be super prepared or pass out supplies to others. One of my friends brings a backpack with a sign on it that reads “I HAVE: WATER, SNACKS, TYLENOL, TAMPONS, SUNSCREEN...ASK ME FOR WHAT YOU NEED!” At the most recent BLM protest I attended, there were people passing out everything from water bottles to pizza to masks to whiskey. But every protest is different! Don’t count on any supplies to be easily available. If you need it, bring it.

the empty pizza box on the right says “come make a sign here.”

Know your surroundings, and pay attention. This is a big one. I don’t mean that you should never attend a protest somewhere you’ve never been before, but I suggest doing some research if you do. Know where you’re going and when, know the street closures and the path of any marches, know the nearest metro/subway stops and whether they’re going to be open on the day of. Especially know if there’s anywhere you aren’t allowed to be. For example, when protesting at the NRA's headquarters, you can’t step off the sidewalk or you’ll be on their property, and then you can be arrested for trespassing.

Pay attention to signs, traffic patterns, and especially police presence. The other day I noticed that although the police and the National Guard were unarmed as the mayor had promised they would be, the DEA was also present, and they absolutely were armed.

Another part of knowing your surroundings is knowing where relief areas are. If it’s a big enough event, businesses, churches, and even places like theaters will open their doors to protestors to use their bathrooms, charge phones, and rest somewhere with AC. Social media usually has this information if you know where to look for it—check local activist blogs. For my DC folks, check Popville.

On a related note, know which businesses do and don’t support the movement! You don’t wanna wind up buying lunch at a place that gives free meals or discounts to police. Look for places that offer discounts or deals to protesters. For example, in 2018 both Cava and Shake Shack offered discounts for March for Our Lives protesters. Guess where I ate lunch and dinner that weekend? Chains like those ones usually make the news, and local businesses will often put up signs in support of movements to let protesters know they are welcome.

there’s lots more I could say, but the tl;dr version is

keep yourself and others safe.

feel free to chime in if you have something to add/if I missed anything!

BTS GOBLIN AU - CH3

A/N:  A taekook fic based on the kdrama Goblin. Written by my lovely bff @stupendouspaperplane and edited by me. Sideships include yoonmin and namjin. Other alternative ships might happen if we decide to do alternative endings.

Also this took too long ;_; exams aaa

Prologue // 1 // 2 // 3

                        It was another peaceful morning at the household of a very grumpy, sleep deprived goblin. It was one of those typical Wednesdays, when the atmosphere in the house felt like dead cold winter no matter the weather outside. The landlord, Kim Taehyung was drowning in a pool made out of his students’ assignments. While the other “supposed” renter splitter, Jung Hoseok, worked on cup of hot, life saving coffee.

                         A doorbell rang and successfully awakened the grave-like place. “Hoseok-ah, my hope, open the door please.”, Taehyung said without looking away from the assignment paper he was marking, he knew he won’t have the willpower to mark the last twenty something papers if he stop now. “What were you saying?”, Hoseok asked as he didn’t catch the words. Taehyung repeated his request with the same half-dead tone without looking up as well.

                         Hoseok heard him this time, but instead of answering whoever was outside, he pulled out his phone, a smirk on display. “What was that?”, he asked again, this time with a more playful tone. Taehyung did not need a split second before he knew what that meant. Both of them were more than familiar with the games they play, as childish as it sounds, it was definitely much less innocent than normal child’s play.

                         Taehyung cursed under his breath just as the doorbell rang again. He quickly shouted out his response, “FINE, tomorrow’s dinner, burger king down the street. I’ll pay. Now go open the damn door!” Hoseok beamed happily as the audio file saved in his phone. “I’m coming~”, he dashed to open the door.

                         “May I help you?”, Hoseok asked as the door opened to reveal a man slightly shorter than him. It was usual for students to come and seek help or even just for a casual talk with their professor. Despite the man’s young face, Hoseok somehow knew without asking that he wasn’t one of them. There was this mysterious aura around the man -it might have something to do with the combination of black clothes and pale skin- that piped Hoseok’s curiosity.

                         “I’m interested in renting a room.”, the man replied. In his hand was non other than the brochures Hoseok made, the words “ROOM FOR RENT” bold in red. “Come in then, I might as well show you around the place.”, Hoseok held the door open for the other but a strong grip on his arm made him looked up confusedly at the man. “What’s the problem?”

                         “Actually…“, he loosened his grip on Hoseok and let his hand fall back to his side. “To be honest, I was kicked out because pets ain’t allowed in my apartment, I figured it’s better to ask beforehand than going through all that shit only to get a no later. So… are pets allowed or not?” Hoseok was a bit taken aback, more by the man himself than the actual question. The man’s cold expression was replaced by eyes full of hope, his lips turned up at the corners instead of a thin straight line.

                         “I- Let me ask.”, Hoseok turned around and cleared his throat before shouting “Taehyung-ah!” The black eyed grim reaper jumped a bit, startled by the sudden shout.

                         “Who is it?”, a deep voice shouted back immediately. “You can call me Min.”, the smaller man offered his name just as Hoseok was about to ask. “Is it one of those punks? I told them I’m busy this week, let them go.”, the voice spoke again before Hoseok had the chance to reply. “No, it’s not your students. Mr Min here wants to rent a room but he’s wondering if pets are allowed.”

                         The grim reaper was playing with the collar of his trench coat while he waited for an answer. Hoseok peeked at the small man and had to bite back his laugh. He looks so cute. He barely know him but he already hoped the man can move in so he can get to know him and hopefully get along well with his pet too. He loved animals to bits.

                         A squeak was heard by the duo. Hoseok bursted into laughter, he can literally hear the awe in Tae’s voice. “Come on in~”, Min looked at Hoseok with uncertainty in his eyes but followed him nonetheless, unable to resist the warm, welcoming smile. “Are you sure?”, he sat on the white leather sofa while looking around the place.

                         Hoseok hummed in reply and pulled out a file of documents from somewhere. They worked on the terms and conditions in a comfortable matter. Hoseok did most the talking while the other only nodded and hummed with minimal comments on the contract. Hoseok doesn’t mind the lack of words, even though Min was quiet, he focused on the conversation and not for once his eyes left Hoseok. So Hoseok doesn’t feel like he was talking to himself.

                         Once they are done with the contract Hoseok walked the quiet one around the house. Again, Hoseok did the talking while the other looked around the place in silence, it didn’t took much time until they were at the last room of the house. “And this, is your room, open the door~.” The door opened into a fully furnished room. Everything was black and white except the bright coloured mattress of the bed. Sweet, I can deal with that. Hoseok followed behind him and chucked as the man bounced himself on the bed.

                        “You like the place?”, Hoseok sat on the chair by the table. Min nodded with a small smile, “Do you think I can move in today?” “Why not? You can move in whenever once we sign the contract later, Tae won’t mind much.”, Hoseok went to grab the documents and left Min in the room. The grim reaper grabbed a pillow and cuddled it to his chest.

                        He never expected everything to go so smooth. He was on the hunt for apartments the minute his original landlord screamed at the sleeping ball of fur on the pile of blankets he had set up. He had quite a range of choices as backups but as lucky as him he got it down on the first try. He smiled unconsciously as  he thought about his new pet, so small and fragile, his Holly.

                        Holly-ah, I’ve found you a new home, this will be our home.

                         “Awww, is Holly your dog?”, Hoseok said as he gave Min the papers. A signature was already signed above the name Kim Taehyung. Shit, did I said that out loud?, he looked at Hoseok to see if he was making fun of him but the boy was busy filing the documents. “Yea, Holly is my puppy.”, he signed the paper and handed it back. He found himself wanting to talk to the boy, and later he found himself happily engaged in a conversation that ranged from pets to hobbies, and everything in between.

                         “You like to dance? That’s cool. I don’t really do hobbies though, maybe playing the piano?”, Min talked while lying comfortably on the bed, a pillow propped behind his back. “Fun fact, Tae loves the piano so much he has one in the house even though he can’t play it for life.” “Really? But I didn’t saw it just now?”, he came across piano a really long time ago. It still amazed him until the day that how people can create something so magical with just the press of their fingers. He had fallen in love with music. The fact that he haven’t seen a piano in ages was killing him, and he was dying to play one. “It’s in his room, I’ll show you next time.”,

                         The duo would have talked until the sun was down if it was not for the sudden outburst of an upbeat melody. Hoseok mumbled an apology before picking up his phone without checking the number. “Yo it’s Hoseok, who is this?” “OMG I’M SORRY CHIM I’M COMING RIGHT NOW. WAIT FOR ME.”, he ended the phone call and almost rushed out of the room before remembering Min. He turned back and looked at him with an apologetic smile and said “I’m sorry I’m leaving like this but I’m really late, my friend is gonna kill me, I’ll see you later K?”

                         The grim reaper nodded okay and waved the boy away with a small smile. He suddenly felt a wave of tiredness washed over him. Talking was exhausting, he concluded. He got up from the bed and took the two sets of keys on the table, one old and plain while the other new with a music note keychain. He put them in his pocket and walked out of his room. It’s time to work.

                                                        *****

                         “Hyung, are you sure he’s coming?”, Jungkook asked. On the table were plates of sushi and some other dishes. Jungkook’s plate of rice was already a quarter empty, while Jimin’s noodles still untouched. “At least eat a bit first, you told me you were hungry.”, Jungkook argued for the fifth time, but Jimin just gave Jungkook a smile while saying that he can wait a little bit longer.

                         Jungkook sighed and took another bite of his food without another word. Jimin noticed and looked at Jungkook, “I’m sure he’s coming Kookie, don’t worry-- Owhh, he’s here!”, he stood up quickly and waved at the direction of the entrance. The younger smiled fondly while Jimin tried to get his friend’s attention, who looked like a lost child in the busy shop.

                         Jimin was on his tiptoes and Jungkook felt bad for smiling. Luckily his friend finally spotted him in the crowd and rushed over. “Jiminie~!”, the man tackled Jimin down easily. He smiled brightly as he squeezed Jimin towards the wall, Jimin giggled while pushing back like it was totally normal to be like this out in the public with so many eyes on them.

                         At first Jungkook laughed at the two sunshines, entertained by their act. However, his smile faded as he watched on. He’s too close with Jiminie-hyung, there’s barely any space between them. Jimin’s friend was literally crushing on top of Jimin’s small frame. He knew Jimin was not as weak as he seems but Jungkook just had the urge to walk over and pull the guy away from Jimin. He should have sat beside Jimin-hyung in the first place.

                         He poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek unconsciously and picked up his spoon to take another bite of his rice. He might as well intentionally made a lot of noise as he did so. He was definitely not jealous of Jimin being touchy with his friend, he’s a grown ass man and can do whatever he wants. “Ohh sorry”, Jimin’s friend finally spared Jimin from being tickled to death and gave a hand to pull him back up. “I didn’t know there’s someone else.”, Jimin who was still out of breath from all the tickling was about to introduce the two, but Jungkook spoke first.

                          “Yea, I didn’t know too.”

                          ... Definitely not jealous at all.

                         Jungkook regretted a split second later. Jimin stared at Jungkook wide eyed, smile dropped from his face. Jimin’s friend also froze in his place, his out stretched hand hung awkwardly in mid-air. “I’m just joking hyung, chill. I’m Jeon Jungkook. Nice to meet you.”, Jungkook said quickly with the brightest smile he can manage and shook the friend’s hand.

                         “You scared me to death, Jungkook-ah.”, Jimin said with a frown. “I’m sorry hyungnim, please forgive me hyungnim.”, Jungkook bowed to the two dramatically. Jimin and his friend who was smiling awkwardly a moment ago cracked up in laughter. Jungkook smiled in relieve. “You were right Jimin-ah, he’s cute.”, Jimin’s friend offered Jungkook a smile. “’’m always right.”, Jimin said with a sushi stuffed in his mouth.

                         “Jimin hyung talked about me?”, Jungkook was curious what Jimin talked about him. “Of course he does, he-” “Jungkook-ah, I haven’t introduced my friend to you yet, how bad of me. This is Jung Hoseok, you can call him Hoseok hyung, or Hobi hung like I do.”, Hoseok watched amusedly while Jimin ranted about him. “Nice to meet you Jungkook.”, Hoseok smiled.

                         “You’re the one that gave Jimin your dorm!”, Jungkook shouted in recognition, earning him a few glances from customers around them. Jimin looked embarrassed by the younger while Hoseok only laughed. “Mmhm, I’m actually treating this meal for that.”, Jimin said as he reached over to take a bite of Jungkook’s rice. Jungkook pushed his plate towards Jimin so he can eat more easily. “Eat up,  Hobi hyung. Jimin hyung and I will pay for it.” “Aww, thanks guys.”

                                                        *****

                         “OMG PUPPY~!”                        

                         If you asked Hoseok about Taehyung’s bad habits, “Taehyungie~ Is seriously OBSESSED with cute things. I mean, he even has a corner in his room for the things he found cute. Seriously, he needs to control himself, his collection is getting massive.”, is the answer that you would get from him.

                         Taehyung, with his empty coffee cup on the floor, was playing with the palm sized puppy he newly discovered. Hoseok had informed him about their new housemate before he left to eat with Jimin. He had heard noises from his room but only now that he finished his work he came downstairs. “So you’re the pet Mr Min talked about hmm~ What’s your name cutie?”, Taehyung asked in a soft voice.

                         Footsteps approached him and a low, chill voice replied his question. “He’s Holly.” Taehyung didn’t turn around immediately, instead he patted the puppy a few more times before putting him down and watched as the small creature walked away to explore the place. Mr Min was making himself a cup of coffee while Tae walked up to greet him, “Hello, I’m Kim Taehyung, nice to meet you Mr Min-”, the said person looked up at him and their eyes met.

                         “GRIM REAPER!” “So you’re the infamous Goblin.”, the two of them said/shouted at the same time. Taehyung, who was unable to believe the twist of events, was staring at the grim reaper in disbelief, “Why are you in ma house!?”, Taehyung whined. Hoseok promised a nice looking, quiet, well mannered man, a human. He knew he’s lovable friend had nothing to blame. But. He just can’t help but wondered about his luck. “Shh, shouting at your guests ain’t nice.”, the other picked up a jar of coffee beans and gestured at Taehyung’s cup on the floor, “You want coffee?”

                         “NO!”

                         “Your loss.”, the small man shrugged. He took his cup of steaming coffee and walked past the Goblin to sit down at the sofa. He looked as if he had been living at the place for years, while Taehyung, who stood in the middle of the hall with wide eyes and dropped jaw, looked like the lost visitor.

                         “Don’t look at me like that, here’s my contract if you ain’t convinced.”, he held the piece of paper up for the other to see. Taehyung raised his hand and hold it like a handgun, “Pang~”, he said cutely as the paper was swallowed up by flames. “Now it’s gone, and I suggest you to do the same.”

                         “That’s my copy, the original one’s with Hoseok.”, the ‘supposed’ nice looking, quiet, well manned man shrugged. Taehyung threw himself at the sofa that was opposite Min while mumbling “First day and already on the first name basis.” The other didn’t heard him “Also, I prefer if you call my name, Tae.”, he said his name in a mocking tone, Taehyung hissed, “I thought grim reapers are poor bastards that suffered memory loss.” 

                         “I’m a smart ass that got my name from my drunk boss.”

                         “You’re just lucky, I bet you don’t even get the full name, Min.”

                         The grim reaper ignored the fact that he was just being called out by a nearly complete stranger and drank his coffee. His attention fell on his pet dog as it run towards him. “Holly-ah~~”, he put down his cup to pick up Holly. The brown haired puppy wagged his tail left and right as Min ran his hand across his soft fur. The goblin stared at the dog and it’s owner for a while before saying “Fine, you two can stay.”

                           He saw the smirk on the other’s face so he quickly added, “It’s only because of Holly so thank him.”

                           Taehyung closed his bedroom door behind him and his eyes fell on the corner where his collection were placed neatly on a white shelf. He is a collector of cute things, and he does not mind adding two more to his home.