#(except it’s much harder to forget now that you can hear the fly buzzing)

[goatbeard-goatbeard]

when Gabriel was in that meeting in Heaven, do you think he could hear the fly buzzing

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Diplomatic Daemati

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): A Court of Thorns and Roses Series/Rhysand

Rating: PG/K+

Original Idea: A writing prompt on Pinterest about screaming in your mind to catch mind readers

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) Clocking in at 3,712 words... this one really ran away from me. I kinda wanted to make this a full blown thing. Maybe I will but I haven’t decided yet. This is supposed to take place like way before Amarantha.

^^^^^

I stood in the High Lord’s meeting, a member of Thesan’s entourage, and stared at each and every High Fae and faerie. Most of them didn’t notice. Not Rhysand of the Night Court, who was coldly making stiff conversation with Helion of the Day Court, who didn’t notice me either.

But I could feel it. The presence. Someone else in this room was daemati. Like me. The wards keeping everyone from fighting made it hard to pinpoint the direction that presence was coming from. No matter which way I faced, I only ever felt the other daemati with my right ear, like a fly buzzing around my head at the same speed I turned it. Thesan hadn’t noticed I was jittery. Probably because, as a Peregryn and a warrior trained to always be on alert, I was always flighty.

Also because he didn’t know I was daemati. A secret I’d never been sure why I kept.

My own mental shields were up, but they were designed to be subtle. Another daemati might look at my mind and not sense they were up. Depending on how good they were.

I reached out with my mind, letting nothing more than a breeze caress the shields of everyone who had one. Every High Lord had one; as did many members of their entourages. Not all.

No one stiffened as my breeze touched their shields. I wasn’t sure if a non-daemati would even be able to feel the wisp of magic, but I doubted it.

I poked a little harder at Tamlin and Nostrus’ shields where they were discussing their shared border with the bored tones of those looking for things in common. Not a breeze, but a brush of a flower stem as one walked. Neither acknowledged anything. I tried Beron’s. Nothing. Helion’s. Nothing. Rhysand. Nothing.

Except—did his eye twitch? Or was I shaking so much that I imagined it? Was it wishful thinking that his blue-violet eyes might have flicked away from Helion and looked around for the source of the magic against his shield?

I wasn’t sure if I dared poke harder. Though I was distracted from the thought by movement.

The High Lord of the Winter Court—whose name escaped me—stood. “I’d like to call this meeting to order,” he said. His voice was brittle like ice cracking as growing spring weather thawed it out.

The High Lords and their retinues all found their way to their seats. Myself included, at the far end of Thesan’s left side. The least important, lowest ranked soldier among the Dawn Court group. I was still highly ranked back home, but among every important, powerful commander High Lord Thesan had brought, I was the lowest. I considered myself honored I’d even been selected to come.

Maybe Thesan did know I was daemati after all. Or, at least, guessed as much.

Though, if he’d guessed, wouldn’t he have confronted me about it? Asked me to break into whoever’s minds I could? Just to fact check their honesty?

I tuned out the meeting completely. A low-pitched hum was filling the mental space between everyone’s minds. Reverberating off shields. No one seemed to notice. I certainly wasn’t doing it—but no one’s face betrayed any hint of effort. Not a trace of split focus.

The pitch of the hum got higher. A bead of sweat ran down my spine between my wings. I felt like I was going to vibrate out of my feathers at the effort of keeping still. I pushed against that hum, built another layer around my shields, deciding to forget the subtlety I’d planned in the event of another daemati peeking at me. I didn’t dare form words beyond that shield. Didn’t dare let the other daemati have the chance to recognize my voice. Not that I’d said anything during the opening mingle that would give someone the chance to learn my voice. But I didn’t dare risk it.

Every ounce of concentration went toward sitting still and appearing relaxed, and building up more layers of my mental shield, trying desperately to block out the humming.

I doubted anyone else—besides the originator—could even notice or feel it. I doubted they had any presence in the mindscape beyond the maintaining of their own shields. They were all tucked safely in their own minds, not noticing the hum as it got louder and higher. Loud and high enough that I was almost surprised it hadn’t become real sound, echoing around the chamber of the sacred mountain—the neutral zone where High Lords met.

That hum turned into the drone of an oboe. Holding steady and perfectly in tune.

Another drop of sweat slid down my spine, brushing where feather met skin.

Everyone’s faces were perfect masks of calm indifference.

“—furthermore, when taken into consideration—” the High Lord of the Winter Court dragged on. The only words that had broken through my own internal war with my own body and whoever was making the droning.

The pitch built again. I felt like it was going to shear my feathers off.

I glanced at the Illyrian warriors Rhysand had brought with him. It would be a literal one-of-a-kind chance for the shadowsinger to also be daemati.

But it would be just like Rhysand—with his games and his plans and his power plays—to have allied himself with the two most powerful Illyrians in history that also were a shadowsinger and a daemati.

The bigger of the two—taller than even Rhysand by several inches—with his glowing scarlet Siphons and powerful build didn’t seem to fit, though. I quickly lashed a tendril of my presence at his shield. I felt it wobble. Just a bit. It was there and it was strong, but it didn’t have the intricacies of someone who knew from the experience of attacking a shield how to defend against daemati.

Not him then.

A quick test at the shadowsinger revealed the same. Though I kept my eyes on the High Lord of the Winter Court, I could have sworn the shadowsinger’s eyes flicked around.

Shadowsingers can hear and feel things no one else can, I reminded myself. He’s still probably not daemati on top of it.

The drone was now a high-pitched ringing. It was all I could do to hold still.

No one looked strained by the effort of holding this noise for the several minutes it had been building.

I tested everyone’s shields around the room in a quick wave. They didn’t seem to notice. Not me, and not the ringing.

My mind felt like it was going to shatter from the noise before my shield did.

Almost unwittingly, I cracked open a small slit in my shield—

And screamed.

Not physically. Just mentally. A high-pitched, bloodcurdling scream. The kind I’d released when I’d had to have a wing relocated after a particularly nasty training day and my captain’s scrimmage resulted in dislocating the joint where my wing met my back.

Rhysand flinched.

No one else noticed it. No one else would have. They weren’t looking for it. They were all still focused on the Winter Court High Lord. The flinch was small and barely more than a twitch of his right hand.

But I saw.

Rhysand. High Lord of the Night Court. The wicked, dangerous, calculating, cold, manipulative, admittedly handsome, extremely powerful High Lord of the Night Court.

Who now knew there was another daemati in the room.

And was most likely smart and strong enough to pinpoint that it was me.

I slammed the sliver in my shield closed and reinforced the whole thing a few times over. If he had games to play with my mind, I could at least keep him busy for a while. I tested my shield for weak points and built them up.

The high-pitched ringing stopped. I forced my wings not to shiver at the relief.

No probes. Not a single scuff of another’s presence against my shield. No claws. Not even a breeze. It was almost more unnerving than if he did attack.

I was curious about the intricacies of his shield. Curious if I could learn something from someone older and more experienced by trying to tunnel through.

But I didn’t dare. He was far too strong for me to go up against and win.

And I wasn’t willing to get into his mind and risk him trapping me there. To be an unwitting and unwilling slave and spy in the Dawn Court.

So I kept myself to myself for the rest of the meeting. Not daring to reach out to anyone’s minds.

—

The end of the meeting brought a bit more mingling. Less from the High Lords and more from the retinues. The Night Court kept to themselves, but that didn’t surprise me. Every party had brought wine and were taking the chance to drink and talk.

I hung near a wall and said nothing to no one. I allowed my body—my wings—to shudder every time I took a sip of my drink. Acting as though the elderberry wine was the cause of the shudder, not the pent-up energy of holding still through that droning. My hearing still felt fuzzy hours after it had stopped.

“You know,” a lazy voice drawled behind me, “breaking into other people’s minds is rude.”

I whirled. Rhysand stood there. Unnervingly close. His eyes were blue, but so dark and so deep they appeared violet.

My grip tightened on the stem of my glass.

“So I’d imagine,” I said, tone tightly controlled and managing not to tremble.

He leaned down—I was shorter than him—and whispered, “I won’t tell anyone you’re daemati.”

“I assume you’ll want something in exchange.” My words weren’t quite as flat and fearless as I wanted them to be, but I hoped it was enough to fool him. Doubtful. He was centuries older than me.

He gave me a roguish smirk. “Information.”

“I would rather be outed as daemati than give up court secrets to you.”

Rhysand waved a hand dismissively, swirling his wine. I reinforced my shields, but he didn’t touch them. “Not about your court. We’re on decent terms with each other, Night and Dawn. Comparatively, anyway. No, no. I want information about you. It’s so rare to meet another daemati. I should think you’d be interested in comparing notes.” He spoke with a tone that was undoubtedly supposed to be sweet, but so laced with poison that my feathers bristled.

I should have been scared. I knew I should have been scared. Terrified out of my mind, probably.

For whatever reason, I wasn’t.

Nervous, of course. Tentative, of course. But there was no real fear.

“What do you want to know?” I asked.

“Who taught you?”

“No one. I taught myself.”

“Liar,” he snapped.

“It’s the truth. No one—not even my parents—know what I am.” I spoke quietly so the other mingling High Fae and faeries didn’t hear in a room of predator’s hearing.

“And why not? You’d quickly become a very prized member of Thesan’s court if you told him. He would value you and your opinion quite highly.” I wasn’t sure if he was being genuine or if his saccharine smile was meant to intimidate me.

I lifted my chin. “If you must know, I made a grave mistake with my powers when I was a child and vowed that I would never tell anyone what I was. So I taught myself.”

Rhysand’s playful sarcasm vanished on a wisp of smoke. “You hurt someone?”

“No. I wasn’t strong enough for that. But I looked into my father’s mind without permission. Without knowing, really. I just… slipped in. And I saw a lot of ugly truths in there that a child had no right to see. Including the fact that he was having an affair with another female. I never told my mother. Never told anyone, actually. I kept myself to myself and honed my abilities on my own. No one ever asked if I was daemati when I joined the legion, so I never said anything.”

“So why not reveal it now?”

I scoffed. “Because that would lose the trust of everyone I know, if they found out I lied to them for decades.”

Rhysand smiled. The same wickedly amused one he’d sported occasionally during the meeting and during the first part of our conversation. “I like you,” he purred, leaning closer. My feathers fluffed and bristled.

His lips brushed the edge of my ear as he whispered, “If you’re interested, I’d be interested in training you further.”

“I’m fine as I am, thank you,” I replied, colder and sharper than I meant.

His face betrayed nothing, still that mask of collected, sarcastic boredom. “You don’t want to be seen as a traitor to your court, is that it?”

My wings extended just slightly and I lifted my chin. None of my instinctual attempts at intimidation would work on him. I knew that. But my wings often acted like a second facial expression, and one that was harder to control than my actual face. “No. I don’t. And I would be if I was caught anywhere near your vicinity.”

Rhys picked at a speck of dust on his lapel that wasn’t there. “I’m sure I could find some way to spin it to Thesan to let you come play with me without being seen as a traitor.” Shadows rippled around him, almost the same way they swirled around his shadowsinger.

“Why?”

“Because an under-trained daemati is dangerous. Potentially more dangerous than a fully-trained one. You could crush and shred minds without meaning to. And I may be a monster, but even I don’t delight in the unintentional destruction of innocent minds and lives,” Rhysand said. “But you gave me information about you—so I will also hold to my end and not tell anyone what you are.” He tilted his head to the side. “Unless you wish me to.”

“No,” I said, too fast to not sound desperate.

I cast my mind around the High Fae and faeries nearby. None of them were paying us any mind.

I realized why as I brushed against several tendrils of dark power. Effortlessly puncturing their shields. He was keeping their attention off of us. None of them even seemed to notice he was there.

His lips curled in a predatory smile. “So? What do you say? Let me train you, hone your gifts, make sure you have full control?”

“And in return?” I repeated.

“Clever girl. In return, you give me three fallen feathers from your next molting.”

My feathers bristled. “Why?”

“The why is not part of the deal,” he said. “What do you say?”

“One condition: no tattoo. I know it’s customary in your court to mark a bargain on the skin, but I want this to remain a secret. Which a tattoo will not help with.”

That predator’s grin widened. “Fine. No tattoo. But it’s a deal?” He extended a hand to me.

I hesitated. “Deal,” I agreed. I grabbed his hand and shook it.

Pain slashed on the inside of my left elbow. I gasped and looked down.

A faint scar, surgically precise, grazed the bottom of the crease in my skin. Rhysand rolled up his jacket sleeve to show off a matching one in the same place. “No tattoo,” he said. Giving me a cheeky wink and rolling his sleeve back down into place, he strolled off. Straight toward Thesan, despite what his unhurried amble would suggest.

I decided I didn’t want to know how he planned on spinning a way to get the chance to train me without my defecting to the Night Court or betraying the Dawn Court. I stayed where I was, nursing my drink. Looking at no one, not even Rhysand and Thesan, for longer than a casual glance. My wings shuddered with every sip of my drink. I really didn’t like wine—elderberry or otherwise—but didn’t want to seem out of place by not drinking. The truce in this sacred mountain always felt like it was balancing on a knife’s edge. One soldier not drinking would imply a lack of trust in everyone assembled and then everything would go sideways as the High Lords shouted at each other and escalated the situation.

Rhysand and Thesan left the chamber, both motioning to their entourages not to join. Rhysand’s Illyrian warriors watched them go, the same way I did.

Why were Night Court males so handsome? How was that fair to the rest of us?

One of my fellow Peregryn soldiers sidled up to me. “Some meeting, huh?” he asked. I grunted agreement.

“Always is, with the High Lords, I’d imagine.”

My cohort shuddered. “All that power, all in one room. It was like the air itself was turning into magic. Especially High Lord Rhysand. My feathers bristled just getting within half a wing-length of him.”

“No kidding,” I agreed. “I know he’s supposedly the most powerful, but I get the feeling that sometimes he’s more than just a cut above the rest. I feel like he might be several cuts above the other High Lords.”

My cohort nodded. “You’re probably right,” he said. “It’s unnerving.” His feathers shivered. I reached back and straightened one of my own. “Did you see where he went with High Lord Thesan?”

“Just out into one of the passages.”

“Any guesses why?”

I shrugged, my feathers swishing through the air with the motion. “Probably High Lord business not meant for the ears of the rest of us. You know Rhysand’s reputation as well as I do. He’s a schemer. He’s always got something up his sleeve. He’s always one step ahead of everyone else. High Lord Thesan has complained that Rhysand is difficult to work with at the best of times. Has plans he tells no one about until they’ve been completed. Always gets what he wants. Undoubtedly he’s pulling the strings of one of those plans now.”

My cohort sat thoughtfully for a while. “You ever flown over the Night Court?”

“No. And I don’t plan to. Have you?”

“No. I don’t want to either,” he said. “Especially not with those Illyrians in the skies.” His eyes slid over to Rhysand’s Illyrians, who stood beside each other and spoke to no one else. The bigger one with the red gems was speaking to the other, the shadowsinger, who didn’t appear to reply at all.

Thesan and Rhysand reentered the chamber. Rhysand inspected me, my cohort, and the other members of Thesan’s entourage. Then waved a hand lazily at me. Thesan gaped for a moment, but nodded.

I bowed as my High Lord approached, Rhysand a step behind. “A word in private, please?” Thesan asked. My cohort bowed in acknowledgement and scurried away. Thesan gestured to Rhysand. “This is High Lord Rhysand of the Night Court.” The introduction was unnecessary even if we hadn’t already spoken, but I gave Rhysand a bow of respect anyway. “He and I have been discussing improving diplomatic relations between our courts for a while now, and he’s requested that you be the emissary from the Dawn Court to the Night Court.”

Push back, don’t be too eager, Rhysand’s voice said in my head, punching past my shield. I almost jolted. Instead, I kept that crack in my shield open. If he was going to guide me through this conversation, it’d be easier just to let him in. Just a little.

“I’m a soldier, my lord, not a diplomat,” I said. True enough.

“Yes, but Rhysand here has decided that you are the only one he will trust. For reasons of his own.” He shot a sharp look to the Lord of Night. One that Rhysand pretended he didn’t see—instead picking a speck of dust off his lapel. A speck that wasn’t there. He swept his hands over his lapels and gave me and Thesan a saccharine smile.

Push back a bit, but relent, Rhysand thought at me.

“I’m not sure I’m qualified, my lord. But… if it is what my duty requires, I will gladly serve,” I said.

Nice. You sure you’re not a diplomat?

Please don’t. I’m not accomplished at having two conversations at once while pretending one isn’t happening.

I felt his laughter rumbling through my head like thunder. Yet, he teased, tone sounding like he found something delicious.

High Lord Thesan smiled at me. “Thank you. Would a visit to the Night Court next week be alright?”

“My lord, whenever works best for you. I am at your service.”

Rhysand waved a hand. “Next week fits into my business well, actually.”

“Then we’ll plan on the initial visit for next week,” Thesan agreed.

Rhysand smirked. “Excellent.” He looked at me. “I look forward to your company.”

I bowed. “My lord,” I said.

He retreated. Good job, soldier. Welcome to a diplomat’s world.

Thesan gave me a serious look. “Be careful,” he said quietly. “And keep sensitive information to yourself.”

“Of course, my lord.”

Thesan left me alone too.

High Lord Rhysand? I reached out tentatively.

Call me Rhys. Please. I hate the over-the-top formality with friends. He was talking with his Illyrian warriors, wine in hand, never indicating he was having a secondary conversation.

Okay. Rhys… you do realize I’m going to have to report back actual diplomatic relations, right?

Of course. I already have plans for you to relay to Thesan. We actually have been talking about improving the relations between our courts. I’m killing two birds with one stone. No reason not to.

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Thank you for offering to train me.

I’m doing it for your sake as well as mine—and everyone else’s here. Thank me after your training is finished, because you certainly won’t thank me during it.

I take it that it won’t be pleasant?

Working your mind like this never is.

I blinked. See you next week then?

He chuckled in my head. Until then.

I looked back over at him. He lifted his wine glass at me in a toast and gave me an over-exaggerated wink.

[hockeylvr59]

Secret Love Part 15 || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: So we’re back in Calgary folks. I’m just cranking away at this story lately and all of your thoughts are so appreciated. If anyone has any predictions for things, I’d love to hear them. 

Warnings: smut (oral/other foreplay/risky/semipublic), cursing

Word Count: 3,192

~~~~

Just like that, it was all over. You’d spent ten days in Iceland with Cale. Ten days that you were never going to forget. After spending your last morning visiting some lighthouses, another black sand beach, and a bridge spanning a rift valley, you were climbing back on a plane to fly to Calgary. Your little oasis with Cale was about to be broken by the harsh realities of the real world. 

Your bed being cold without Cale sleeping beside you. 

Your work email overflowing to the point you didn’t even know where to start.

Having five days to plan a Canada Day party which you’d forgotten you’d agreed to host.

Oh...and your parents coming to stay with you in two days. 

_______

The fact that you were able to stand in your backyard surrounded by friends and family July 1st was something that would never have happened without help. 

You hadn’t heard from Cale all day Saturday, but when your phone buzzed with a text on Sunday morning you couldn’t help the warm feelings that rose inside you.

Please tell me I’m not the only one sleeping like shit…

He certainly wasn’t. But at least he could nap after training...you weren’t nearly that lucky and you told him so. That led to a conversation about the million things you suddenly had to do in the next few days and how you weren’t sure you could get it all done. 

And because he was legitimately the best boyfriend, item by item, Cale volunteered to help you check things off your list. He went to the grocery store with a list of all the food needed. He went to the liquor store for beer, wine, and other spirits. He and Taylor came over to do yard work so that you didn’t have to worry about it. He even picked your parents up from the airport when you had a last minute showing pop up. 

Needless to say, you weren’t overstating it when you said Cale literally held your sanity in his hands. 

For the first time since the plane home, you were able to steal a kiss as your parents made their way into the house after Cale dropped them off. 

“Add this to the tally of things I owe you for.” You’d declared. 

“I accept payment in kisses.” Cale teased. A quick glance around revealed you were alone for at least the moment, and you pressed up onto your toes letting your lips seek out his. 

“That’s all I can do right now…” You murmured, looking over your shoulder again. “But I’ll make the rest up to you later I swear.” 

“It’s fine, sweetheart.” Cale grinned. “I’ll see you in a couple days. Enjoy time with your parents.” 

You’d given your parents the grand tour of the house, setting them up in the guest room. Your mom hadn’t even sat down before she was asking what she could do to help prepare for the party. 

Yeah...you had some good helpers. As your yard started to fill up around lunchtime, you grabbed a wine cooler, starting to mingle. Your parents were there, Cale’s parents and brother were coming as were his grandparents, some of your parents’ friends were planning on stopping by, and quite a few of Cale and Taylor’s friends had also been invited. It was definitely the kind of party you had envisioned when you first stepped foot out here. 

“Happy Canada Day!” Cale greeted, appearing suddenly behind you and pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. 

“You guys are here!” You exclaimed, twisting to wrap him in a quick hug, careful not to let it linger too long. 

“Yep. The whole crew is here.” Cale agreed, motioning to where his mom was eagerly engaged in a hug with yours having not seen each other in quite a while. “And I see you’re trying to make me pop a boner in front of everyone.” He whispered, his eyes raking up your body quickly. 

“It’s just a dress Cale.” You whispered back, eyes teasing. “Nothing special.” 

“Except your legs look a mile long.” He grumbled, causing a laugh to spill from your throat. 

“Oh suck it up buttercup.” You said, shaking your head. 

“Suck what up?” Gary inquired, moving over to hug you, your dad right behind him. 

“I told Cale he was in charge of setting up the lawn games and he’s whining about it.” You declared, excuse spilling from your lips on the fly. The look on Cale’s face was priceless and you struggled to keep your expression level as he looked at you. Gary quickly shook his head, chastising his oldest son and you mouthed the word ‘sorry’ at Cale as he shook his head and moved to grab Taylor to help him. 

Playing hostess kept you quite busy and with so many people around you really couldn’t sneak much time with Cale. It had already been a couple hours and you hadn’t even spoken to him beyond the brief conversation when they arrived. Watching as he played spike ball with his brother and some friends across the yard caused that familiar ache to spread through your body telling you that you were going to combust if you couldn’t at least properly kiss him. 

After a few more minutes, Cale disappeared inside and you excused yourself from conversation declaring that you needed to bring up some more drinks from the basement. 

Closing the back door, you waited at the top of the basement stairs for Cale to return and when you spotted him you gently tugged him toward you. 

“Come ‘ere.” You murmured quietly in case anyone else was in ear shot inside. Pulling him all the way down into the basement, you guided him around the corner before stretching to kiss him deeply. “Hi.” You greeted your forehead resting against his when you finally pulled away. 

“Hey sweet girl.” Cale replied, his hands easily settling along your hips. 

“Needed to kiss you.” You mused. “I miss you.” 

“Miss you too...but you look like you’re enjoying yourself. This is one of the things you wanted.” Cale acknowledged. 

“It is and I am.” You agreed, your fingers running down his stomach feeling his muscles constrict under your touch. “You look like you’re having fun too. You look pretty sexy out there.” 

“Don’t start something we can’t finish.” Cale groaned, quickly responding to your tone of voice. 

“Who said I can’t finish it?” You questioned. “We just have to be quick.” As you spoke you were already sinking to your knees, your fingers dipping down to Cale’s shorts. 

“Y/N...you don’t….shit.” Cale breathed, his hips bucking as you took him into your mouth after sliding his shorts and boxer briefs down just enough. Taking everything you had learned from the last time, you bobbed your head up and down Cale’s length, your fist stroking what you couldn’t take. It was a quick and dirty blow job, Cale’s cheeks flushing a deep crimson as you ran your tongue along the veins of his cock each time you pulled off to breathe. 

Sucking the tip of his cock you peeked up at him, watching as his head fell back against the wall behind him. 

“Gonna cum…” Cale whispered. 

“That’s what I want handsome. Cum down my throat.” You mumbled, sinking back down on his length. As you pushed the limits of your gag reflex, you felt Cale’s cock twitch before ropes of semen spilled into your mouth and throat. Swallowing as quickly as you could, you tried not to gag or choke before finally pulling off him, a mix of saliva and semen linking your lips to his dick. 

Wiping your lips, you gently worked Cale back into his clothes as he stood panting above you. 

“You’re insane.” Cale mumbled as he finally leaned down to kiss you. “Our parents are just outside...my grandparents are outside.” 

“Like the risk of getting caught didn’t just make you cum harder than usual down my throat.” You sassed, fixing your dress to make sure it didn’t look too rumpled. Cale couldn’t fight you because he knew you were right and as you moved across the basement to grab another six pack of beer you felt his eyes linger. 

“Now make yourself useful and grab that case of drinks. I bumped into you on your way back outside and made you come help me. Cover story.” You winked, biting your lip as you made your way back upstairs. 

You had barely got the new beers stuck into the cooler when your mom grabbed you. 

“You haven’t showed us those vacation pictures yet. Laura and I are dying to see them. Grab your computer and we’ll meet you in the living room.” 

Not being given a choice, you nodded and watched as your mom crossed the yard, grabbing Laura and Cale’s grandma. Looking back toward the mixed drink station you saw Cale standing with one of his buddies pouring shots. 

A few quick strides had you at his side.

“Pour me one of those?” You insisted. 

“Everything okay Y/N?” Cale asked, tone neutral though his eyes showed a hint of concern. 

“Just pour me a drink Cale. I’m about to go sit through the vacation slideshow with our moms…” Cale’s friend moved a few steps away but you lowered your voice further before continuing. “...And I’m not doing that with the taste of your cum in my mouth.” 

Cale nearly sputtered, but quickly recovered, pouring you a shot before clinking his glass against yours as you downed them. 

“Wish me luck.” You murmured, shaking your head just slightly as you moved from his side and into the house. In your bedroom, you made doubly sure you had pulled up the correct photo album before you carried your laptop into the living room, hooking it up to the tv. 

For the next half hour you explained the photos when necessary and listened as all of the women in your lives raved on how beautiful they were and what a wonderful trip it must have been. While these photos stirred up so many memories, this wasn’t the album that you’d found yourself looking at repeatedly. No...it was the other album that you loved most of all. The one full of pictures of you and Cale looking so completely head over heels for each other. For now though, that album was something just for you, even if you were looking forward to the day you could print some of the pictures and hang them in your bedroom. 

As you finished, your dad and Gary came barreling into the house wanting to know where everything was to start grilling up dinner. Taking your laptop back to your room, you got the guys everything they needed before leaving them to it. Meanwhile, you finished off the few remaining things that needed done to the sides, pulling those and condiments out of the fridge. 

“What do you mean after everything that happened between Cale and Y/N.” You mom’s voice slowly grew louder and your stomach dropped as you brain raced to catch up with the pieces of conversation you’d missed. 

“Y/N didn’t tell you about Cale’s pregnancy scare with his ex? It caused major strain on their relationship.” 

“No…” You mom insisted as she stepped into the kitchen. You hadn’t mentioned it assuming Laura would and apparently Laura had expected you to and hadn’t herself. 

“Can we not bring up old wounds?” You said, not realizing the snap behind your words. “She was an idiot who really hurt him and we should just be glad that it all worked out the way it did. Things are finally getting back to normal so can we please not drag this out any longer than we already have?” You were done and over with having to think about Cale’s ex… you knew it still hurt him a little even if he pretended it didn’t and you couldn’t help but be defensive and protective. 

Your mom and Laura shared a look, but neither said anything in response, instead asking if there was anything they could do to help. 

“No. I’ve got it. Thank you.” You assured them. You remained in the kitchen, your chest heaving until dinner was completely ready and all of your guests had been told to dig in. Then you slipped into your room, closing the door behind you as you tried to calm your raging emotions. 

After a few minutes, a knock sounded and you expected it to be your mom on the other side. Instead Cale popped his head in before stepping inside and closing the door. His hands rubbed at the back of his neck and his body language drew a sigh from your lips. 

“How much of that did you hear?” 

“Enough.” Cale responded, sitting down next to you on your bed, his arm draping around you. “You okay?” He questioned. 

“I should be asking you that.” You replied flatly. “I’m sorry.” 

“I have no idea what you’re even apologizing for..so don’t.” You couldn’t help but lean into Cale’s body as his fingers traced up and down your arm. “If I kiss you will that help you calm down enough to get some dinner?” He teased, lifting your chin up so that he could ease his mouth over yours gently. Slowly your body relaxed under his kiss and when you broke apart you certainly felt a little bit better. 

“That’s my girl.” Cale grinned, seeing the soft smile reappear on your face. “C’mon.” He prompted, offering a hand out to pull you up off the bed. 

“Hey Cale.” You stopped him, pulling him back toward you. “I don’t think you were wearing this lip color before...probably should fix that.” You smiled, reaching out to rub the makeup off his mouth from your reapplication shortly before. “I’ll be out in a minute.” You assured him as you leaned against your bathroom door wanting to make sure that you didn’t look too out of place. 

No one spoke a word of what had happened during dinner and as the sun started to set the majority of your guests left, leaving just your family and Cale’s as the guys started a small fire in the firepit. You’d stepped inside to use the bathroom and when you returned the only seat left around the fire was on the loveseat beside Cale. 

Settling in beside him you smiled as he widened the spread of his legs so that his thigh was pressing against yours. It was a subtle move but the skin to skin contact was beyond welcome and you were grateful, knowing he worked the seating so the two of you could share. Having grabbed another drink, you felt the pleasant hum of alcohol starting to build after awhile. Around the same time you started to shiver as the outside temperature dropped. 

“Anyone else need a refill?” Cale inquired when he moved to stand up, his own drink empty. A chorus of yeses and nos followed him and when he returned he not only had his arms full of drinks but also the blanket from the back of your couch. Draping the blanket over your lap, Cale handed you a fresh drink making you smile. 

“Your son is trying to get me tipsy Laura.” You joked. 

“You’re already tipsy sunshine.” Cale declared as he dropped back down beside you. “And you’re allowed to be. You worked really hard to pull this together and today’s been pretty awesome.” Cale’s praised was echoed by everyone else and you took it as best you could considering compliments weren’t your thing. 

“I had some help...let’s be fair.” You shrugged. 

“Oh my god. You and my brother are the two most humble people I have ever met.” Taylor groaned. “No wonder you’re best friends.” 

Grinning over at Cale, you let your eyes fall shut after a moment, just enjoying the sounds of your families spending time together. Feeling Cale’s hand slide under the blanket to your inner thigh made your eye pop open and you eyed him carefully. 

‘Just relax.’ He mouthed before jumping back into the conversation. As he spoke, his hands slid under your dress until his fingers were brushing against the fabric of your panties. Laura asked you a question about something, honestly you were too focused on Cale’s hand to remember your answer, but once you had finished Cale’s fingers slid under your underwear. Nimble fingers stroked over your clit and your eyes fluttered shut again. 

Hopefully it just looked like you were sleepy, because you weren’t sure you could pay full attention to what was going on around you when Cale’s hand was doing things like that. 

“Oh.” You gasped, drawing everyone’s attention to you. Cale’s hand stilled as your mom asked if you were okay. 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You insisted. “My ankle is still tender and I shifted it wrong.” Your excuse turned the attention to Cale’s heroics at the cave in Iceland and as your families talked about it and how they would have reacted so far from medical attention, Cale’s fingers shifted to curl inside of you. 

Though he couldn’t move much, this was the first time he was touching you since he made love to you that last night of vacation. Considering you were wound tighter than a spring, Cale’s fingers curling inside you as his thumb rubbed against your clit were quickly pushing you toward an orgasm of your own. 

Thankfully the darkness masked the subtle nuances of your face as Cale’s fingers made you fall apart. As you came down from your high, Cale wiping his fingers on either your dress or the blanket you weren’t quite sure, you took another long sip of your drink. Cale had just finger fucked you feet from both of your families who could both see and hear you! And to think he’d said you were insane for going down on him with your families outside! 

Your brain was spinning trying to process what the fuck had just happened and how much you had enjoyed it. The two of you were seriously taking the whole ‘sneaking around like teenagers’ thing to the next level. It was a miracle you hadn’t gotten caught. Lost in thought you missed the fire starting to die out and Gary mentioning that they should probably get going. It wasn’t until Cale pulled you to your feet so his family could hug you that you caught up with reality. 

“I’m gonna help this tipsy one inside real quick and then I’ll meet you at the car.” Cale insisted once hugs had been exchanged. His arm swung under your legs, picking you up bridal style and after weaving through doorways, he gently laid you down on your bed. 

“We’re gonna talk about that later.” You mumbled, yawning softly. 

“Whatever you say sweetheart. Get some sleep.” Cale replied, kissing your forehead as he tucked you in. 

Your bedroom door creaked shut with Cale’s departure as the words fell unconsciously from your lips. 

“Love you.” 

Dress: 

[anamikaa]

Beatrix Kuroki and Miriam Brooks: Bad Guys

This story is a second part of a round robin story. Its part 1 'Absent Friend' was posted by @kino-indiana . You can reblog with your own addition or you can check out @kino-indiana for more round robin stories.

⚫⚫⚫⚫⚫⚫

Miriam woke up to a buzzing sound of an alarm clock. The bedside clock showed the time 7:00 am. She could probably get an extra hour of sleep, since her school had been suspended for two more days for the death of a fellow student, but she chose not to. After a shower and a breakfast, she decided to call that girl Beatrix.

Last night, when Beatrix came up and offered help, all she could feel was relief. But thinking back with a clear mind, it seemed a little reckless to trust a complete stranger with a matter as grave as murder. On the flip side, Beatrix could provide her with some vital information that could help her investigation. Hopefully, it’s something concrete enough to convince the others of Stillman’s murder. Shoving all her doubts in a metaphorical box Miriam finally hit the call button on her phone.

Beatrix Kuroki was on her fourth cup of coffee of that morning when her phone started ringing. Without looking at the contact name, she knew it was the girl from the last night, Miriam. Subconsciously, her fingers tightened around the half-empty coffee mug. The uneasy feeling in her gut multiplied tenfold with an intense urge to run and hide somewhere. And she would have done just that, if it could solve her problem. A boy was dead. It’s not something she could forget with a good night’s sleep.

Beatrix answered the phone on the third ring. Which irked Miriam a little. They decided to meet at Park Prakriti, around two miles away from her house, in fifteen minutes. Her mother was already out for work. So Miriam grabbed her cell phone and house keys, locked the doors and headed out.

She found Beatrix standing at the gate of the park, staring blankly at the clock tower of Kino Temple, that could be visible from any other part of the town. “Hey! Beatrix!” Miriam shouted when she was close enough. Beatrix turned and waived with a nervous smile. She was wearing a loose white t-shirt and a leopard print jeans, her jet black hair put in a messy bun.

The park was mostly deserted except for a group of six to eight-year-olds playing tag. Their shouts disrupting the silence of the place like stones thrown in stagnant water. The girls settled on a bench, far in a corner, that was designed to look like a half cut tree log.

“I’m sorry about your friend.” Beatrix started.

“Me too.” Miriam replied.

Beatrix glanced back at the children. Her mind was still debating if going back there would be a good idea. What if she’s only endangering another life.

To Miriam, Beatrix seemed even more anxious than the night before. But that’s kind of normal assuming your daily activity doesn’t involve investigating the murders of your classmates.

“So coming to the point, why do you think Cealan Stillman was murdered?” questioned Beatrix, as she turned to face her.

“You tell me, Beatrix. Why do you think Stillman was murdered? As far as I know, Stillman didn’t have any friends in school. Hell, I have scarcely seen him interact with anyone outside the detective career track. And the fact that you call him by his full name doesn’t help the case. So what reason do you have to believe that he was murdered?”

The look on Beatrix’s face faltered. It was enough for Miriam to realise that she had messed up. The art of subtlety was not one of her many talents. But still, she could have made an effort to make it sound less like an interrogation.

“Look, let’s not make it harder than it needs to be. You can be honest with me right now and I promise, I’ll do the same. And if you don’t want to be a part of it then that’s okay too. What do you say?” Miriam further added hoping her voice sounded amiable.

“No. I want to be involved. And you’re right. We need to be honest with each other.” After a brief thoughtful pause, Beatrix declared, “There’s something you need to see. Come with me.” With that she jumped to her feet, not waiting for any answer from the girl next to her.

After five minutes of walking in suspenseful silence, they were back at the place of their first interaction. Miriam followed Beatrix as she made her way around the towering headstones. Kino Cemetery was a work of art, forbidding and attractive in its own way, even more so in daylight when you can see the misty forest behind the burial ground. Beatrix suddenly stopped, causing Miriam to knock into her back. Her gaze glued to the grave of the boy who recently died.

“Don’t tell me we are here to dig up Stillman’s grave” Miriam spoke up, her tone suggesting she wouldn’t be much opposed to the idea.

“What? No. Why would you say that?”

“Hey! You’re the one who’s acting all mysterious and brought me to see his grave. What am I supposed to think?”

“Well, I see your point but this is not what I wanted to show you.” Beatrix moved away from the grave. “For that we have to go into the woods.” She said, looking Miriam in the eye, as she tried to gauge her reaction. The townsfolk usually never ventured into the forest. Rumours surround it, lots of it, including being inhibited by some tribe that didn’t like being disturbed and being hunted by the spirits of witches, keeping it away from people. Even the rebellious teenagers left it alone. How convenient for them.

The expression on Miriam’s face was not one of wariness, as Beatrix had expected, but of a curious anticipation. Though, she never believed in those over imaginative theories, Miriam always knew there’s something off about the forest; like the untimely deaths of people working in the cemetery. All from natural causes. Nothing suspicious. But she knows how to connect the dots. And despite what Ryan Murphy says, her gut feeling is never wrong.

For Miriam, going into the forest felt like walking into another world. The fog was thick, so much that it was getting harder to see where the trees stood. But Beatrix seemed to know her way around. As they went deeper, the fog started thinning out too, and they could see more clearly. Ironically, it made Miriam feel more vulnerable like a blanket of protection was stripped away from her.

“Don’t make any noise and stay with me.” Whispered Beatrix, to which she could only nod. She refrained from commenting on the fact that Beatrix appeared more nervous than her. Miriam strained her eyes and ears in an attempt to stay alert. Still and all, nothing could be heard other than their light footsteps and the occasional chirp of birds or insects. The trees around them stood tall and uptight as if too proud of their primeval heritage to look down on two feeble animals. Suddenly, Miriam felt her feet fly out beneath her as she landed on the dirty, mouldy ground of the forest, staring up at the sky. She could feel something wet and squishy under from where her left hand was perched as she was trying to brace her fall. Reluctantly, she turned her head to find a dead raccoon-like animal halfway through decomposition with half of his organs outside his body. A loud screech, Miriam never knew she was capable of, escaped her lips. Beatrix was quick to cover her mouth reminding her to keep quiet. Miriam’s hands quivered with a chilling sensation. She didn't even have a minute to calm herself as they heard a series of footsteps echoing through the forest. Before she could make sense of what’s going on, Beatrix dragged her to a nearby bush that was entangled with vines making it a good hiding spot. Through the gapes, they could see men wearing black uniform pants and black t-shirts with face covered in ski masks, some with guns, some not, running around. 'They are searching for us.' Miriam thought to herself. She tried to calm her nerves, to come up with something that could help, but her brain drew a blank.

They sat there with bated breath, curled in a ball, trying not to make a sound. It felt like an eternity until they couldn’t hear the footsteps anymore. Miriam emerged first to make sure that no-one’s around. Dry leaves and branches were tangled in her curly brown locks. She walked a bit further from their spot to see if anyone’s hiding behind the trees. All of a sudden, a hand clasped her face and someone was dragging her back. Miriam tried to kick and elbow the person but soon she was backed into a tree with the guy pressed against her, blocking her escape. From his attire, it was clear that he’s one of them. Miriam could feel the butt of his gun against her stomach. She just hoped to God Beatrix would stay where she was. In another attempt to free herself, Miriam pulled his head with her free hand and banged it on the tree.

“Ow! Fuck!” He groaned in pain, momentarily losing his hold and giving her the perfect chance to escape. But something froze Miriam in her place. The voice behind the mask was one she knew too well. Impulsively, she peeled off the mask only to find a familiar brown eyed boy staring back at her.

“Look, I can explain. I’m not the bad guy here, I prom-Ow!! Jesus Christ!”

Before Patel could elaborate, he was hit with a heavy rock on his head above his left ear. Beatrix, who had succeeded in both sneaking up on them and injuring the man in question, was standing there with a perplexed expression, staring at a groaning Colin Patel, who was lying on the ground showcasing his very colourful vocabulary.

“I really thought he was the bad guy here.” Beatrix said when she caught Miriam’s eye.

[queerbutstillhere]

Hiya!! Wow u still doing amazing prompts? How about a soulmate AU for Jondami? Where Kyptonians feel a "click" once they meet their soulmate and that even if they date someone else they can feel as much love that the feel for their mate.

(Hi! Sorry it took this long! I hope you get to see this! And I hope it is good!)

When he was young, his dad explained it to him. Told him how they, as Kryptonian's would often have "soulmates". Said he wasn't sure if Jon would experience this, since he was only half kryptonian, but it was best to just be prepared.

He explained how there was this click. Why everything seemed off and disfunctional, how it felt like everything was just shifted to the left a bit. Why Jon felt odd, like the world was buzzing at such a low decible that he could just barely hear it. And he told Jon that this may stop one day, or he would just stop noticing it.

It was this way because of their soulmates. And once he met his soulmate, things would just click. Everything would be normal and right again. He would feel the shift. So he needed to pay attention if that happened, watch who he had been with. Clark explained that he could still fall in love with people other then his soulmate, Clark had done it so many times before he met Lois, but it would never quite be as perfect as it would be with his soulmate.

Jon took this very seriously, and from that day as a young child, to an eleven year old when he felt it, he paid great attention to all his interactions.

And then he met Robin.

And his world shifted back into focus.

His meeting with Robin hadn't been fantastic, they had tried to kill each other, multiple times. But Jon couldn't ignore the fact that the first time he touched Robin, he physically felt this snap inside him. A Click. In fact it startled him so much that Robin got the upperhand and would have seriously hurt Jon, had Bruce not stepped in right at that moment.

Jon had been shaken up for days after, and refused to tell his parents why. So they chose to believe Robin had done something to their precious child. And they were furious. But he needed to tell someone, and when his older (yet younger?) brother popped in for his monthly visit, he managed to drag Kon outside.

"Hey, kiddo, what's wrong? You're looking a little green. Been exposed to any kryptonite recently?"

Jon shook his head. He did feel a little sick. They were sat on the roof of the barn, staring out over the cow pastures.

"Jon?" Conner asked, joking tone dropped, now just concerned. "Are you okay? What's wrong? Do you need to go to a doctor? I can take you to dad if you don't want Clark and Lois to know?"

"No! I'm not... I'm not sick. And why is Lex a better option then Dad?!"

"He does care what I do? Also I thought you liked Lex."

Jon didn't respond, wrapping his arms around his knees.

"Kon, did dad explain the soulmates thing to you?"

"Sure did. Why- oh my God, did you? Who is it?! Did you tell them?!"

"Shh!" Jon hissed, glaring at his brother.

Kon immediately sobered, reaching out to wrap an arm around Jon.

"Who is it, Jon? What's the matter?"

"It's... Robin."

Conner blinked at him a few times in confusion.

"The... The demon spawn? Tim's little brother?"

Jon nodded a couple times, pushing his face into his knees.

"... Wow. Okay. That's. Yikes. Didn't he try to kill you?"

Another nod.

Kon gently rubbed his back. "Well. It's okay, Jon. You don't... You're only eleven, you don't have to do anything about it. Maybe- maybe it's best not to tell anyone else? Clark and Lois might-" Kon cut off with a small sigh.

Jon just groaned and pressed his face harder against his legs.

"It's okay," was Kon's comforting mantra as he hugged his small brother for a moment.

And it was.

In the end, Jon practically forgot about it. He grew up, was Damian's partner, became his best friend, hung out with him all through highschool. He almost forgot about the soulmate thing. Except sometimes he'd notice how much sharper his world was when he was with Damian, or how much happier he was around him.

But he fell in love in highschool, had his heart dramatically broken when his girlfriend cheated on him, even spent a whole evening bemoaning his sad life to Damian as they ate vegan ice cream on the roof of the barn, wrapped in fluffy blankets.

He thought he maybe fell for Damian, his senior year of highschool, but Damian was off, traveling abroad, so it was easy to forget, and then he spent his summer after working and barely saw him. And then Jon was off to college, barely saw any of his friends, let alone his best friend who lived in another country at this point, stopped superheroing, just focused solely on college.

It wasn't until his senior year of college that he realized his world had fallen back into disarray, that things were off again.

It wasn't until senior year that he remembered Damian was his soulmate.

He sent Damian a simple text.

-Hey, next time you're in the states, we should hang out. I know it's been a while, but I'd love to catch up!

Two days later, he got a response.

~Hello! Sorry for not responding sooner. I am currently in Gotham, actually, would you like to meet up this weekend?

Well that was easier than anticipated.

-Yeah! Sure, I can come down there if you want? Does Sunday work?

~Yes. You can come for lunch if you wish. It shall be at noon.

-I'll be there :)

So Sunday Jon showered and flew to Gotham, wearing fairly nice clothes. As nice as it got for a college student with an unpaid internship. Okay so it was pretty nice clothes BECAUSE of his internship. He didn't fly much these days, but it wasn't like he forgot how to. He just headed to Gotham and plopped himself on the front step of the manor, taking a moment to sort himself, straighten out the wildly tangled hair, smooth down his burgandy sweater and fix the cuffs of the button down he had on underneath it. And then he rang the doorbell.

It was only a brief wait, and then the door swung open to reveal one of many black haired blue eyed brothers of Damian's. Jon's memory immediately kicked in and reminded him the buff one with the white streak was Jason.

"Hi, Jason!" He said with a grin.

Jason, who had scruff and bags under his eyes and smelled like cigarettes, grunted.

"Welcome back, kid. It's been a while since you've been around."

Jon smiled and shrugged. "Well, I've been busy with school and all that."

Jason shrugged in return and opened the door, letting Jon in

"Do I still need to take my shoes off?" Jon asked, pointing at the pile by the door.

Jason looked at it, then at Jon. "To save the old man's back, we'll say yes. I don't even know anymore."

Jon raised an eyebrow and took off his dress shoes, following Jason further into the house.

"I think Damian's in the kitchen with Alfie."

"Okay. Thanks Jason!"

"Uh-huh."

Jon headed into the kitchen and did indeed find Damian, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he helped Alfred cook. He looked up as he heard the door open, and his eyes widened slightly. Jon felt the same thing happen to him. Because man had Damian grown up. Of course Jon had seen his social media and seen this, but it was completely different to see him in real life, just a few feet away. He was wearing a green sweater, and black slacks, black dress socks on his feet. His olive skin was dark, darker then Damian had ever been while living in Gotham. His black hair was short on the sides and back, and still the same long, fluffy top.

"Jonathan, hello!" Alfred said cheerfully, the elderly man smiled at him.

"Hey, Alfred."

Damian seemed to snap out of his daze, glancing down at the food he was stirring then back up to Jon.

"Hello," he said with a smile. He set down his spoon and washed his hands quickly.

"Hi."

Damian stepped closer. "Has it been too long to get a hug?"

Jon chuckled and stepped into him, wrapping his arms around Damian and hugging him tightly. Damian's arms slipped around his waist and returned it, his chin on Jon's shoulder.

And there it was again. The click. The settling of his universe. The reminder that things were okay and good and right.

"It's good to see you," Damian murmured gently, his eyes closed.

Jon hummed gently. "Yeah. It's been a while."

He didn't want to let go. He felt safe hugging Damian. He felt warm and happy.

Damian started to pull back so he let go and watched Damian head back and return to stirring his food.

"So watcha cooking?"

"Sauteing asparagus, lunch is almost ready. Grandfather, could you go get the others and then get them seated in the dining room?"

"Sure, my boy," Alfred said with a smile and then headed out, walking a little slower then Jon last remembered.

Damian watched him leave, eyes full of concern. Jon was too busy reeling in the fact that his ears weren't buzzing anymore and that things didn't feel slightly blurry.

"He's not moving as good as he used too," Damian commented softly, and then shook his head a bit.

"Anyway. How are you? How is college?" Damian asked, smiling.

"College is good. Was good. I'm almost done now. I've got an internship at an architectural firm."

"Oh. Nice. You were going for interior design, right? Or was it architecture?"

"Architecture."

"That makes sense...."

Jon chuckled, looking around the kitchen which was still the same.

"So you finally gave up on the glasses?"

"What? Oh yeah. I don't do a lot of superboy stuff anymore so no one really recognized me as him... I plan to change my uniform and add a mask here soon though."

"That's smart."

"Do you, um? Do you still do vigilante stuff?"

"Oh, in Europe? Some, but you'd be surprised at the lack of supervillains over there. But yes, I do some over there."

Jon nodded. "That makes sense."

"Can you grab that pan for me?" Damian pointed at a casserole dish.

"Sure!"

Jon grabbed it and followed him out to the dining room. The rest of the family was there, getting seated, fussing over Alfred. Jon ended up following Damian back into the kitchen and helped him carry out a few more dishes that all looked expertly cooked and foreign. And then they sat down and ate. Dinner was great, the Wayne family had fun catching up with Jon. And then after, Jon and Damian went for a walk around the Manor, enjoying the nice spring weather.

Jon knew he needed to tell Damian but he didn't know how. They just walked and lightly chatted and caught up. Finally they reached the gardens and Jon reached out grabbed Damian's hand, pulling him to sit on a bench.

"I need to tell you something."

"Okay? What's wrong?" Damian asked, concern filling his face.

Damian showed emotions so much more freely know. Jon had known him for over 10 years now, so this was kinda surprising.

"There's this. . . " He sighed.

Then he stood and started pacing.

"Kryptonian's have this thing. . . They have soulmates," he started explaining, not looking at Damian. "We can feel when we meet our soulmates, it's like this click when we first touch them and-"

"Oh," Damian said. "Interesting. Is there any changes after?"

"After? After the click? Yeah, before, things feel off and for me there's like this buzzing noise. After things just felt more clear and like the world is more focused."

"Interesting."

"Damian. Damian there's a reason I'm telling you this," Jon said, turning to him.

"Why-"

"Because the first time I touched you thirteen years ago, I felt that click."

Damian blinked.

"And when I hugged you again today, I felt the click again."

"Oh," Damian said softly.

"Yeah.... I'm sorry for throwing this on you, but I had to tell you. And we can still fall in love, outside of our soulmate, but things will always feel off."

Damian wasn't responding, just nodding slightly. Jon went silent, crossing his muscular arms and watching him cautiously.

"Well."

Jon sighed. "I'm sorry. Should I go? I should go. I'll let you think about it-"

"Jon, wait!" Damian exclaimed, standing.

Jon had already been flying, so he stopped, blinking.

"Thank you, for telling me. And especially thank you for not telling me earlier, when we were younger. I would not have known how to take it and I undoubtedly would have run away from you."

Jon smiled softly, touching back down to the ground.

"And I'm sorry, for being a horrible friend back then."

"It's okay, Damian. You weren't as bad as you seem to think."

Damian just shook his head slightly. He stepped forwards and hugged Jon again.

"Give me a little time to process this, okay? I'm not going to run away."

"Okay."

Jon smiled to himself as he hugged Damian for a minute, as he felt that warmth and safety.

And then he stepped back. "It was good to see you, Damian."

"You too, Jon."

They waved to each other and then Jon took off up into the air, heading back home.

A few days later he got another text from Damian.

~ I think I'm going to be in the states for a while.

- Yeah? That's cool! I'm sure your family will be happy to hear that.

~ yes. They were.

~ Would you like to get dinner sometime? So we can talk.

- That would be amazing.

~ Thursday?

- Sure, around seven? I can come down there if we push it to 7:30.

~ No, I'll come to you, so seven is fine. Send me your address and I'll pick you up. Dress nicely, business casual.

- Okay, I'll see you then :)

Three weeks later, they were dating.

Send me prompts!

[canumoveurseatup-no]

wish i could tell you

part 2 of aches of the heart

summary: you and wanda try to move on from each other

word count: 3k

pairing: wanda maximoff x black!fem!reader

warnings: angst, wlw, smut, insecurity

———————

“Listen, I know we have to work with her but you gotta keep your head on straight,” Natasha warned.

“Maybe I should tell Bucky the same then, right?,” Wanda didn’t mean to snap, it’s just that she was on edge and she got sick of people telling her to move past it as if the wound wasn’t still fresh.

Natasha swallowed quickly, knowing she was putting him through the same thing Wanda was going through. But she figured being there for Wanda would make her own situation better.

You walked right in, in your signature pinstripe suit and tie, pumps matching. She couldn’t look at you, she’d break if she did. Her chest tingled with anxiety around the situation, little did she know it hurt you to not see the twinkle in her eyes, but this was better for her.

“Good morning, team,” you didn’t sound phased that she was sitting a mere five feet away from you.

“I am here to accompany Fury on your new equipmemt and weapons,”

You were in charge of designing their new suits and compact yet effective weapons for their missions. You relieved Stark from that weight since he had a family to focus on, even if he still wanted to fight with the team. You did the job justice.

You had a PowerPoint ready to discuss everything. Everyone was excited about their new uniforms and everything you created for them. You could feel the tension rise in the room when you began to discuss Wanda’s new items.

“A headband was created for you to wear, cute and simple. Looks like a regular headband, except,” you clicked your button and popped up a 3D video of what it does, “It sends electromagnetic waves to counteract anyone or thing trying to get in your head. Leaving your thoughts, fears, the teams plans and information that you’ve accumulated to yourself,”

She kept her eyes on the screen, pulse bounding in her chest.

“Everyone knowing you as the team’s telepath, they would assume you to know the most, knowing what you could do and how you are, they’d want you to crumble. So we I found a way to avoid that,”

Wanda felt that statement had an underlying meaning, but she was picking a part every little thing enough as it is.

“I made your jacket a bit shorter and more breathable,” you clicked the next slide and had a side by side comparison of her current jacket and her new one, “Your older one was longer in the back, making it easier for your opponent to grab hold of you, to avoid any risks, we cut down the size and made it a bit thinner while still having durability,”

She enjoyed that you put thought into her safety but she was reminded that it’s your job. If anything fails with the equipment, it’s your ass on the line.

She didn’t know that you purposely put more thought into it though.

She loved the sound of your voice, it was her safety blanket until it became what hurt her. She wanted to be mad at you but she couldn’t possibly be mad at you for not loving her back, she just wishes you could.

Once the meeting was over with, she was the first to leave. She made it her decision to go out and do her best to get over you.

——————

It didn’t work.

She was having a good time, had a hot woman’s head between her legs and then she moaned your name. It caused in the woman to storm out of her place and that left Wanda in tears.

Wanda cursed at herself left and right. She couldn’t believe she allowed that to happen. She had just been so caught up in the moment and the woman’s lips felt like yours, she was feeling great until she ruined it.

Wanda ran her finger through her hair and sat with her phone in her hand, thumb hovering over your name. She needed to call you, hear your voice outside of fucking upgraded equipment briefs.

She had to. She did.

But on your end, you were getting your soul eaten out of you by a woman you met at a lesbian bar. She was amazing, she focused on you and took her time and even though it felt good, it didn’t feel... right.

You definitely didn’t hear the way your phone buzzed with Wanda’s call. But you instead of seeing stars when you came, you saw her face- it took everything you had in you not to moan Wanda’s name. But you cried while you were cumming, because it felt so good and it wasn’t even with the person you wanted.

But Faye, the woman between your sheets, thought it was solely because of her... you were repulsed by your actions. You wanted her gone.

So when you gave her your all and sent her over the edge, you were glad she was quick to leave. You immediately washed yourself cleaned and switched your seats. You thought this would be easy. All the other girls that caught feelings for you were easy to leave and forget... why wasn’t Wanda?

——————

It was a cycle. Wanda would try and fuck other women and somehow ruin it and she’d end up calling you but you’d be in the middle of ruining the lives of other women with your game. You’d see her name after, but would ignore it.

It was another one of those night. Out at the lesbian bars, trying to take someone home until she bumped into you. You wore a tight shimmery spaghetti strap dress, it was good to see you in something outside of your normal attire. She loved to see your legs, childhood scars and eczema hyperpigmentation and all. You were perfect to her.

“Fancy seeing you here, Maxie,”

Wanda looked like a fish out of water trying to find the words say, “Didn’t expect to see you here,”

You laugh at her, her embarrassment was cute. You took a swig of your beer and pointed in the corner, “Pinkie pie over there has been eyeing you this whole time. It’s quite adorable,”

“I-,” Wanda made eye contact with the girl but shook her head felt her bottom lip quivering, “I don’t want her. She’s not my type,”

You leaned back on the counter, cocking an eyebrow and taking in her appearance. She would be the type to wear jeans and a plaid button up here. Minimal make up and basic tennis shoes. She was cute, and nervous like a new girl in school.

“What’s your type?,”

You.

It was an easy answer. But she couldn’t just say that, not with his things were how they were. It would be inappropriate.

“Not her,”

She watched your lips pout in a thought before you turned around and ordered another beer and a drink for her.

“N-no, I don’t need to drink tonight,”

“All right. Cancel that,” you smiled at the pretty bartender. Wanda hated to watch it happen.

“So why are you here?,” you patted the bar stool beside you and she took it quicker than she’d like to admit.

“Wanted to take a page out of your book and just have some fun,”

Wanda wasn’t too fond of the way you laughed at her words but she blamed it on the beers you’d been drinking.

“And how’s that working for ya?,”

She knew that you knew what the fucking answer was. She knew you have been seeing her calls. She knows you know that she loves you.

“Do you like seeing me hurt?,” Wanda gritted through clenched teeth. She just had to know.

“Of course I don’t, baby,”

The pet name shocked you both. It felt so normal to call her that and Wanda wanted nothing more than to be yours.

“So why are you doing this? Why are we like this?,” she hated the way her throat clenched. She shouldn’t be letting this bother her, but it’s consuming her entire mind. You’re her first thought in the morning and last vision at night before she goes to sleep. Her dreams are plagued with you, a perfect world where you admit you love her too... but it’s all dreams.

“Don’t you dare cry,” is all you said

“I’m trying not to!,”

“Let’s take this outside,” you stood and took one last gulp from your beer, setting th empty bottle on the counter.

“I don’t wanna go anywhere with you,” Wanda could barely see you behind her tears. Everything was completely skewed because of them, she shouldn’t be in a fucking bar crying.

You smile at her apprehension and shrugged, “All right, so when I walk out those doors,” you point behind you and step close enough to whisper in her ear, “Don’t fucking call me when your one night stands walk out on you because you were imagining me on top of you the entire time and let my name slip out of your fucking mouth,”

You snatched your phone off the counter and paid your tab before walking through swarms of hot bodies having a good time.

Wanda couldn’t let you go, she didn’t mean to be so hostile, but she also didn’t expect you to be aloof about it all.

She rushed across the dance floor after you, crying harder when you walked through the doors. She gasped when she finally made it out and saw you walking to your car.

“I just want you to love me!,” she screamed across the parking lot. You stopped dead in your tracks, turning around to see her trying to find the right words to say.

“God, Y/N!,” she wiped her tears only for more to come, “Fuck your ‘no strings’ and your ‘hey, I’ll ring’ but I’m imagining things,” she hiccuped.

“Max-,”

“Let me finish!,” she was coming in fast, not stopping until she was barely a foot away from you, “You can’t win, at all! Because the problem with no strings is that you can only fall and I fell face first,”

Her face was splotchy and lips chapped. She stepped away when you stepped forward. She was afraid of what you’d say, she knew she was taking a risk.

“I wish I could tell you but... I just run and hide,” you shook your head, just wanting to talk away and not deal with this but you had to, right? That was your problem, running away.

“Tell me what? Stop keeping me in the dark. If you don’t like me, say it!,”

“I’ve known I loved you for a while now. Just hate admitting it because I’m tired of getting hurt,”

Wanda could barely hide the gasp flying past her lips. There’s no way those words came out of your mouth.

“So I put up a wall and pushed people away, hurting others instead and I am not proud of it,”

You didn’t want to admit you hate the idea of love. The idea of doing anything for someone because they meant so much to you, you hated the cliches, Valentine’s day, all of it.

But damn Wanda made those things seem worth it.

“I would have been patient and understanding... all you had to do was read my note that day,” Wanda so badly wanted to hold you, to have you hold her. But she didn’t want to jump into things, “All you had to do was communicate with me. I’m so easy going a-and understanding. You saw how bad I was hurting and you enjoyed it,”

“I did not,” You scoff and roll your eyes, there’s no way you enjoyed doing this to here, “I just convinced myself it was better than risking hurting you by letting you with me,”

You two stood there, staring at each other. Neither of you were sure what move to make next. There was still so much more to say but neither of you knew what to say at the same time. Having no idea how to even phrase the things.

“I’ve spent months... just hoping I was good enough for you,”

“You don’t need to be good enough for me. You need to be good enough for you before anything. You don’t need me like you think you do, Maxie. Be there for yourself, need yourself first because if you put all your eggs in someone else’s basket it ends in a mess and you’re left with nothing trying to find yourself all over again,”

She knew you just weren’t talking about her and this moment. It was something that you’ve been carrying with you. It was a situation that made you shut everything and everyone out.

“But I love you,” Wanda sounded so defeated.

“You can love me. Just make sure you’re secure in yourself, can you say that for yourself now? Here in this moment?,”

She wanted to say yes but she knew it would be a lie.

“I love you,” you declared, “But I’m not going to sit here and let you put all your eggs in my basket. It would be unfair to you and selfish of me to let you do that. We need time and space to get ourselves together,”

Wanda understood where you were coming from but she always thought being working on yourselves at the same time was a part of being in a relationship. To learn and evolve, every step of the way.

“But I feel like it’d be better for us to construct and build together,”

You shook your head and placed your hands on your hips in a thoughtful manner, “But I don’t want us to grow apart because we’re growing together but end up having to let it go because we’re not on the same page,” 

You stood there in silence. The only noise was the thumping of the music from the club

“I want nothing more than to be with you and see you grow but I want you to grow for you. For your benefit. Not just because I said to and not just so you could be with me,”

She solemnly nods her head and finally understands where you were coming from. You want her to be secure within herself that way if things go south, she’ll have enough value invested in herself to continue to be strong and move on.

“We’ll find ourselves back to each other,”

-----------

This was good. Wanda was able to sit and thing for herself and not let her heart do the leading. She reminded herself of your words everyday to be able to build herself up.

You struggled at first because you really wanted her, but seeing her thrive on her own like she needed to definitely motivated you to just take a break from work to focus on yourself and your needs. Develop healthier coping mechanisms. It was good not seeing each other for a good while, but damn did you miss each other. It was a yearning that pulled at your heart strings. You dreamt of her and she saw glimpses of you while she was out and about. 

You two would contact each other though. A face time call here and there did you two some good and it was a good start to the talking phase.

When you came back from your leave, she was the first person you when to see. Seeing her was like getting that glass of cold water when you wake up in the middle of the night. 

Her eyes twinkled when she saw her. Her smile matched her eyes and it was radiant. Her hair was voluminous, her cheeks were rosy, she looks great. 

And you- you didn’t have that hard edge to you like you always did. You were still a boss lady that could be intimidating, but you smiled more, laughed more, let go and let life.

“I missed you,” it felt so good to have her in your arms like this, and not in the way of a steamy hookup. 

“I missed you more,” She kissed your cheek and led you into her house. She was expecting you, so she had your favorite take out warm and ready along with a glass of wine, “Figured this would be a good first step,”

“It’s perfect,”

-----

There was no TV playing, just your conversation that came so much easier now. Your heads were thrown back in laughter as you two told stories of your experiences when you two were apart. 

“It’s so good to be here with you,” she took your hand and held it tight. You squeezed right back and brought her closer to you, you just wanted to hold her, but the way she kissed you had you ready to engage in so much more and that’s where it got to.

Fingers deep in each other’s soaking heat, moaning in each other’s mouth, crying out the right names this time around. It felt so fucking right to be like this. Bot toys were needed, no strap, nothing. Skin to skin was all that was needed. You held her face close to yours as you two scissored, needy and loving sound your juices made mixing together.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she pouted, ready to let go and see stars. She wanted to experience the first orgasm while being yours and you were gonna get her there. 

“I love you so much. Cum for me, baby,” 

Your teeth tugged on her bottom lip, grinding again her harder, taking you both over the edge, shivering and moaning at the intense wave that drowned you both. She wanted to fall back but you had her by the back of her neck, keeping her there and your eyes locked with hers, “What a good girl,” 

It went for rounds, you two never got tired of each other. Marking each other any place you could. Peppering ‘i love yous’ here and there any chance you two could. You wanted to make sure the other knew, not wanted to leave any room for doubt. 

“My sweet girl,” 

She cried at your words, thinking she’d never see this moment, letting yourself fall and admit that you wanted her. 

You wouldn’t let her go, she was the one and you were sure of it. There was still work to do, there always would be, but that’s what made it worth it.

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

i wanted to end this angsty, but i am a sucker for love.

commets and reblogs are highly appreciated!

tags- @retroxvailles @blackreaders-assemble @yournonlocalpoc @hisxblackxqueen @dumbchick @veryhellshdia @mbaku-babygirl @here-for-your-bullshit @valkyriesnymph @vozit @spideys-wife @disaster-rose @xye-weirdo @persephones24 @alyssaj23 @warmchick @chonisberonica @valentinevirgo @crawlingnightmares @mokacoconut 

[inspirationdivine]

If You Go Down to The Woods Tonight || Lydia and Luce

Luce finds Lydia dancing naked in the woods. What could go wrong?

Lydia was deep and far into the woods, far enough that no one would stumble upon her, (or so Lydia assumed) so when she shed her clothes, she shed her glamour too. Her hand glowed against the tree bark she leant against to slide off her skirt. The pixies chittered as her wings extended from her back, and she slid into a very rare spring fairy ring. It was already withering, not made for this climate, but it would be good for one night. No other species would understand the pulsating magic of tinkling bells that filled her body as the pixies surrounded her. It was a music no one else could hear. Even as the rain came down, they danced. The pixies sang, buzzing past her ears, her wings, as she hovered over the damp forest floor. Here, there was no judgement, no manipulation, no dishonesty. Even glamours were a lie in their own way. Her hips rolled the the beat of the tingles in her spine.  Until she paused, looked around. They were no longer alone. “You might as well reveal yourself, whoever you are.”

Hiking further into the woods, Luce rested her hand on the sword on her hip. After her run in with Donuts the Actually Not So Bad Cop during the last storm, she wanted to find a place more off the beaten path for her future mass fires. But, after the fext and whatever that slimy bastard attacked her and Remmy, she wasn’t just running out here without a little extra protection. The things she did to fucking improve herself. All because she didn’t want her sisters to figure out what she was doing. They had their own secrets-- that much was clear, after the troubling encounter she and Nellie had with August-- and she was sure they wouldn’t begrudge her one of her own. As she hiked, rain began to trickle from the sky. Glancing up, she was startled when she realized that there was movement through the trees. Not just rain, but… Huh. Crouching slightly, she moved closer to the scene and was startled to see a completely naked woman floating in the middle of the forest, surrounded by sprites. But, more startling than that were the wings coming out of her back. As the woman addressed her, Luce’s held her hands up in an apologetic gesture. That said, she didn’t avert her gaze as she stepped closer. “I didn’t mean to gatecrash. My b.” She said with an easy smile.

It was close enough to the full moon that it could still be a wolfling, Lydia thought as the woman emerged from the trees. She was beautiful, even the pixies stilled to look at her. The music still rang in her body, the perfect concordance of mushrooms. But her eyes drifted from that pretty smile to lower on her body, and Lydia’s heart froze in place. Not a werewolf. Werewolves had teeth and claws enough to not need the shining knuckle dusters on her hands, nor the sword on her hip. Hunter. Lydia’s heart hammered as she hovered backwards, reaching behind her for her purse. In it lay a brass pistol, which she picked up and held against her glowing thigh. “Didn’t you?” She repeated skeptically, her voice an octave higher than normal. “You didn’t come equipped like someone who wasn’t here to gatecrash.”

Entranced by the woman’s other-worldly appearance, Luce was barely aware of the fact that she was floating backwards. Or the fact that she was looking at the weapons that she had carried into the woods with her. As the woman began to float backwards, going for the bag on the ground, Luce was startled when she pulled out a pistol and trained it on her. “Whoa! Hold up, I’m not doing anything!” She said, her ironic hands up stance becoming much more of a plea for ‘hey, don’t fucking shoot me’ than she had intended. “You think I make a habit of going into these woods without a little protection? There’s a lot of shit out here that’s more than happy to try and attack both of us. I’m not in the business of making kebabs out of gorgeous flying women.” Luce replied, more than a little bit of impudence apparent in her tone. She’d just come out for a walk, to scope out the area. Not to get a gun pulled on her by what she could only assume was one of the Fae.

“Why should I believe you? Hunters love to lie. It’s probably what they’re best at,” Lydia replied, her arms trembling, but her aim true. “I’m not in the habit of shooting beautiful women, but that doesn’t mean I don’t make an exception.” She eyed her cautiously, her ears prickling. The feeling of being watched hadn’t left with the mimes, as it had for most. If it had been hunters, it would have explained how much it haunted her, and justified the fear. 

Watching the way the woman’s arms seemed to shake, the way her stange ears were twitching, Luce could tell that the stranger was far more afraid of her than she was. Which, given the whole gun situation, said a lot. A Hunter? Is that what she thought she was? But, she was a lot more interested in the beautiful women comment. With a smirk, Luce nodded. “Only because you called me pretty,” She teased, before tossing her silver knuckledusters onto the ground next to her. With a slow hand, Luce locked eyes with the woman, “I’m taking off my belt. I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t shoot me.” She said before undoing the latch of her belt and tossing it onto the grass as well. “I’m not a Hunter. I figure that would be enough to prove I’m not.”

Lydia wasn’t in the mood to flirt or tease until the weapons were dropped. In the dark, she slowly realised the knuckles glinted silver, not like irons. “Not shooting,” she replied, her voice a little steadier as she watched Luce carefully remove the belt, and watched the sword drop onto the leafy floor. Although, Lydia still wasn’t convinced. Even hunters were smart enough to know not to bring a sword to a gun fight. All the same, she lowered her pistol, tapping it against her thigh before setting it back on the branch of her tree. “Well, darling, you’ve caught me off guard. I’m not sure I have many secrets from you anymore,” Lydia looked down at her bare body, unashamed, but certainly unsure what to do now. “My name’s Lydia. Who, exactly, are you?” 

Grin still on her face, despite the fact that there was a gun trained on her, Luce let out a laugh. “You always this friendly to heavily armed hikers? Seriously, though, I didn’t mean to interrupt your party with the pixies.” She said, gesturing to the pixies that surrounded them and were still staring at her with wary, beady eyes. Letting her eyes roam daringly over the Fae woman’s body, Luce nodded, “So it would seem. Can’t say I mind.” She said before lowering her hands to rest against the flannel shirt that was tied around her waist. Without her weapons, she definitely felt vulnerable, but you know. Wasn’t part of flirting about vulnerability? “You can call me Luce.” She said. Even though the woman hadn’t asked for her name, she wasn’t going to take any chances. She’d had run-ins with more than a couple Fae women in the past, she didn’t want to wind up forgetting who she was.

“I thought I was deep enough into the woods to avoid the heavily armed hikers,” Lydia replied, looking around at at pixies beside her. She stood a little taller under Luce’s gaze, a little straighter. Without her glamour, her skin had next to no flaws, and glowed light yellow. She smiled slightly. “You’ve interupted now. We could invite you to join in, but you might not like how that would go.” Lydia stepped back into the fairy rings, hips swaying. “Can I now? Luce it is. And what manner of being are you? If not a werewolf nor a hunter?”

“Ah, well. Some of us like to live on the edge.” Luce replied easily, not unduly troubled by the fact that the woman in front of her was still very much not a human. Lydia. That was it. Taking in the way that the she seemed to glow in the light, Luce made note of her appearance-- she didn’t usually dabble in portraits, but there was something about her that just… had to be captured. She might break out her oil paints when she got home. Glancing back to the bag, that was still not as far from Lydia as her sword was from her, she corrected herself. If she got home. “Mmm, I’m good. Not really a mushroom gal, to be honest.” She said. Raising an eyebrow, Luce let out a laugh, “You really thought I was a werewolf?” She’d have to tell Ulf that one. “Human. Very much a human. Not a vampire or any kind of undead either.” She added. That said, it never hurt to keep the fact she was a witch in her back pocket. 

“Now that is disappointing.” Lydia replied, as the pixies chittered around them. Human. “I had assumed most humans wouldn’t wander out while it was raining, not so close to the full moon. I suppose humans here are more foolhardy than most. Oh well.” It was beginning to rain harder, and goosebumps began to raise against her skin. She sensed something from this human though, as she watched her curiously. “You’re an artist, aren’t you? You have impressive potential.”

Luce’s expression shifted from one of amusement to one of vague irritation. Disappointing. She hated that word. Resting a hand on her hip, she shrugged. “What can I say, I live on the edge. Nothing’s better than a nice storm. Seems like you’re in agreement there.” She said with a nod, tilting her head to the fact that Lydia herself was out here in the middle of the woods just as she was. “Tattoo artist. And other mediums, but mostly that. What gave it away, the sleeves?” She asked, her tone returning to the joking, lighter cadence of before. Running a hand through her soaked hair, Luce swept it back out of her face, keeping her eyes focused on the strange, entrancing woman that stood before her. 

“I prefer clear skies to cloudy ones, but we make do,” Lydia replied. She could practically taste it in the air now, the potential held in this woman. There was a hole in her roster, and tattoo artists could be incredibly artistic types. She wouldn’t be able to stay a tattoo artist, of course, but Lydia could work on that. Lydia’s voice softened as she stepped closer. “No, you just have a vibe. What style do you tatt- oh, fuck.” Lydia cursed, spotting three creatures behind Luce. Little red caps were coming for the fae circle. “That’s trouble.”

While Luce was more interested in hearing what Lydia had to say, the fact that there were three disgusting little gremlins with bloody red caps perched on their heads, was putting a slight damper on the little flirtation. “You’re not wrong.” She grimaced before reaching for her sword. But, before she could make a grab for it, one of the creatures swiped at her with its bloodied, iron spear, letting out a complicated hissing and growling that the others seemed to understand. “C’mon, fair is fair. You don’t wanna fight an unarmed gal, do you?” She said cajolingly. Not that it would do much, honestly, but it was worth a shot. The little creatures growled again at her as she went for the sword and instead of regaining the weapon, all she managed to snag was her set of silver brass knuckles. “You wouldn’t happen to have any ideas on how to stop these fuckers, hm?” Luce asked, directing the question to Lydia.

“They don’t want to fight you, they want to eat you,” Lydia clarified, stepping back and extending her wings to begin hovering. Bloody little things. Their shoes and spears were made to burn, and in any other situation would have bolted. With three pixies to look after, though. “Get between my wings,” Lydia instructed the pixies, because there was shelter under the hard shells of her Elytra. Lydia buzzed up as one of the Redcaps swiped, her heart pounding in her chest. “Running! Running would be excellent! They can’t swim and they-AH!” Lydia yelped as a spear plunged into the tree beside her, inches from her head. She grabbed her gun, knocking the rest of her purse onto the forest floor. “Their hats! Can’t live without them!” The crack of a gunshot echoed through the woods as Lydia shot one of them in the head. That enraged the others. 

“I mean, yeah, I figured. Can’t a girl crack a--” Before Luce could finish her statement, another spear came swinging in her direction and she dodged out of the way. Thank christ she liked doing swordsmanship for fun, otherwise she would have been smacked upside the head. With an irritated noise, Luce glared at the redcap that stood in front of her before making her way, jumping over the spear point to get in close. But, before she could punch it across the face, a gunshot rang through the air and it went down like a sack of potatoes, bullet lodged firmly in its head. Startled, she glanced back at Lydia. Right. Guns. “Well, if we’re bringing out the big guns…” With a flick of her hand, a spark of flame burned brightly in her hands, wreathing the silver knuckles dusters on her fists. Whirling around, Luce brought her foot down on the end of a spear, trapping it in the dirt. As the redcap stared at her in something like horror, she brought her fist back and pummeled it in the face once, twice, leaving burn scorch marks across it’s goblin-like features.

Lydia, only just a foot taller than the redcaps, and still naked, was very much not okay, especially as four more redcaps advanced. Hunters dealt with these in groups, Lydia knew. They had to, because of their natural tolerance to iron and vicious attitudes. As warden killers, they were almost worth keeping around, like it was worth keeping spiders that ate mosquitos. Just not when they were trying to eat her. Lydia shrieked as the night sky filled with fire, before realising its source. Witch! The redcaps were momentarily stunned as she scorched one of them, drawing the attention of the other three, drawing their spears away from Lydia and to Luce. Lydia’s heart hammered as she pointed her pistol at one of them, fired twice, missed, and hit a different one in the arm instead. That had their attention. Bad idea. Lydia screamed again as a spear was thrown at her, burning ice hot along her arm. Fuck that. Looking up, Lydia beat her wings hard enough to jump her up onto a tree branch. Fuckers couldn’t reach her there (right? hopefully?), as she left Luce as bait and tried to shoot them again.

Yanking the iron spear from the redcap’s hand, Luce tried to remember back to her track and field days-- okay, what had that really hot javelin girl told her? Arm back, running start… Luce hucked the spear across the field towards one of the redcaps that had appeared from the trees. The spear hit slightly off the mark, slicing the redcap through the leg and pinning it to the ground where it let out a strangled wale of anger. While these shitty creatures seemed to have no problem with iron, that didn’t make them immune to being skewered. Out of the corner of her eye, Luce saw that Lydia had taken flight to the trees, gun still in hand. Great, Annie Got Her Gun over there was using her as a distraction. “Just peachy.” Luce grumbled under her breath before running to where her sword lay in the ground. Grabbing it, she let loose another torrent of magic, this time running up the length of her sword. “Eat shit and die!” She yelled as she swung at one of the redcaps nearest her. The creature howled in anger before stabbing at her. The weapon was just longer than her own, but it was shorter than her which meant they were on a level playing field. “Do you maybe wanna shoot one of these?” Luce asked as the other two redcaps began to circle around her.

None of them had tried to fly yet, thank god, Lydia thought as she watched Luce below. Her heart hammered louder than the scream of the redcap down below - pinned in place by the spear. That, Lydia could do. She squeezed the trigger, once, twice, three times as its face shattered and turned bloody red. Rain sizzled midair as Luce sent flames running the length of her sword, the other two circling her. Just then, tiny pebbles began hurtling out of the sky, bouncing of the grey skin of the red caps. Roughly sharpened twigs were hurled down at them by pixies, glinting in the sky like fireflies. The redcaps looked up and snarled. One pulled his arm back, teeth bared, and threw his spear up into the sky. When it came down, it came back stained red, a light went out as a pixie fell to the ground. The redcap jeered and scooped up the tiny corpse, and stuffed half of the pixie into his mouth. Her bones crunched like crisps, as he put the rest of her in his pocket. The night sky could cast a blue tint over everything it touched, but as Lydia looked at the tiny feet poking out of that bedraggled pocket, all she saw was red. Bang, bang. It didn’t kill him, but sent him to his knees. “Can’t hit the others with you in the way!”

As Lydia shot at the redcap she’d stabbed with the spear, Luce continued to battle against the two that were prodding at her with their spears. She batted back blow after blow, but they had numbers on her. With a growl, she made an aggressive lunge, trying to stab the closest redcap through the stomach with her sword. But, the redcap jumped out of the way and Luce found herself with her side exposed. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Before the redcap nearest her could get a shot on her, twigs rained down, smacking into the monstrous Fae. Looking up, Luce was startled to see pixies trying to fight back. Her shock morphed to horror as she watched the redcap snatch one and shove it into its mouth. “What the fucking shit…” She breathed. When Lydia’s bullets brought the offending creature to its knees, Luce’s jaw tightened. To her right, the remaining redcap had ignored her, following the other creature’s suit and attempting to snatch pixies from the sky. Gritting her teeth, Luce stared at the injured redcap that was glaring daggers in her direction. She’d deal with him later. Whirling on the creature that was trying to grab at the pixies, she conjured a ball of flame and hurled it at the redcap. “Hey! Leave them the fuck alone!” She said before charging at it with her flaming sword. Hopefully the pixies would get the hint and get the hell outta Dodge. 

The redcap in question howled as its cap caught fire, and he hopped from foot to foot as he slapped his cap with intent urgency. So much urgency he didn’t notice Luce swingin at him until the last possible second. He leapt back, baring his teeth, swinging his spear to deflect the sword. He let out a shrill war cry as he leapt at her bodily, aiming to gouge out her eyes. 

The pixies wailed. It was the most pitiful tiny noise Lydia had heard. Her blood boiled, as the pixies darted back under her wings, and she considered again just leaving the human to her fate. Her blood pounded in her ears as she tried to aim at the other one now, feeling something she hadn’t in many years: a ravenous hunger for revenge. “Kill it, or get out of the way!”

Fuck. Luce dodged out of the way as the redcap came at her, hell-bent on ripping her to shreds. But, though she was able to avoid the brunt of the redcaps attack, the edge of the spear grazed across her shoulder as it passed by her. With a strangled gasp, Luce’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the redcap that was staring at her with murderous intent. This fucker... Tossing her sword to the ground, she let the flames surrounding the blade die, the slight trickle of magical energy ceasing. For a moment, she stood there, eyes locked with the creature. Then, it ran at her, spear poised to run her through. Before the creature took another step, Luce’s hand rose and a ball of flame arched from her palm before engulfing the creature’s head in flames. The cap began to burn, the flames devouring it, while the redcap tried and failed to fight the fire off. When the final redcap fell to the ground, Luce waved away the fire and let out a sigh. Looking up at the Fae woman, she spoke up, “Those pixies okay?”

The fire arching from Luce’s hands became blinding, forcing Lydia to look away. Her pupils could not shrink to protect her gaze so she pulled an arm over her eyes. The raw power some humans were gifted with was almost as terrible as the creatures Luce slaughtered with it. Lydia couldn’t find it in her to mourn the redcaps, fae as they were, but the heat of the fire chilled her to her bone. When Luce called to her, Lydia looked down at the bloodied battlefield. She was too used to death in all it’s forms for her stomach to turn, but her heart clenched. Tiny pale legs still poked out of a bloodied pocket. Swallowing, Lydia leapt down from her branch, flapping her wings to break the fall. She looked down at her skin, normally gold but now flecked and smeared with blood. The tiniest cut on her arm burned like the spear had gone through her chest. “They’re… they’re safe now.” Except the one that had crunched like - Lydia stepped back, clutching at her stomach. She was wrong - now it was definitely turning. “Ahem.” She turned her mind back to herself, to the scrapes and bruises and burns, the cold rain raising goosebumps. All that, at least, could be fixed with a meal. Wasn’t it fortunate there was one right there? Full of energy too, and magic that no human ought have. As Lydia looked to Luce, though, she knew she couldn’t. A reason so simple it would become law the moment she spoke it. That too made her stomach coil, but the old laws were more important than… well. “It appears we owe you a debt, human.” Lydia said, and felt the bond of fae magic tie her to Luce. 

“Glad to hear it.” Looking over her shoulder, Luce winced as the rain continued to pour down, washing the blood from her shoulder down the back of her shirt. It wasn’t a bad injury, but she was definitely going to have to make a trip to her mother’s to get it healed. Unlike her nose, her arm was something she didn’t want to wait around to heal on its own. Her job mattered more than avoiding her mother’s games of 20 questions. As Lydia descended from the tree she’d taken flight to, her wings fluttering, Luce was reminded of how otherwordly the woman was. And, remembering the gun that she’d used against the redcaps, how deadly she was. “A debt?” Luce’s eyes widened. Debts. Iggy had told her about debts, about the Fae, and about how seriously those words were. And, to a degree, Luce understood. Magic was about give and take, push and pull. Exchange of energy for power. And this wasn’t all that different. It just meant a fuckton more to have a Fae put that kind of power in her hands. “Seems like it would. Don’t worry too much, though. I’m not an asshole.” She reassured, as she gathered her sword from where she’d thrown it on the ground. Sticking it back on her belt, she glanced at one of the iron spears before picking it up and slinging it over her uninjured shoulder. “Take care of yourself. And those pixies too.” She said with a nod before picking her way back out of the forest, her head reeling with the reality of what had just happened. A Fae debt. Fuck.

It wasn’t until the human walked out of sight that Lydia slumped, crumbling against the nearby tree. Lydia whimpered as the adrenaline drained and her tolerance for pain drained with it. Her hair and skin dulled as she donned her glamour, and pulled her dress back on. It was a long walk back, and she didn’t want to run into any more humans with her wings out. A fucking spellcaster. Worse than an asshole - a human. Lydia plucked two green leaves from the tree, and gently wrapped the pixie’s body in them, as her eyes pricked and her cheeks grew salty as well as wet. She held out her arm sideways for the other pixies. “Do you want a ride home? I’ll help with her funeral rites.” The fairy ring was destroyed, and the communal silent music with it.

[yugyummygot7reactions]

His Secretary

Pairing: Yugyeom x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,732

Getting this job was exactly what you needed at this point. You were fresh out of school and just moved into an apartment downtown. The job was to be the assistant for a Mr. Kim. He was the youngest CEO in the history of JYP and he apparently needed you as much as you needed this job. 

You were informed that he had only been CEO for 6 weeks and he had gone through 9 assistants in that time. You didn’t even understand how that was possible, but you were always up for a challenge and this one seemed just right. 

You showed up and settled into your desk. You were escorted by security and told that your next instructions would come directly from the CEO. Your boss hadn’t shown up yet, so you sat and waited, writing notes of thing to do once you could figure out how to log in to your computer.

You were looking down when a jacket came flying through the air and landed on your head.

“Hang that up and meet me in my office in 5 minutes or less or don’t bother even coming in.” 

You were shocked by his words, but recognized his voice from somewhere. You rushed to hang up the coat in the armoire that was off to the side of the room and rushed into his office to get further instructions.

“Congrats,” he said facing the window away from you, “You already made it longer than 5 of my previous assistants.”

He turned around and you saw him look you over once. His face scrunched in confusion and he rushed to find your file on his desk. It was in his flurry of chaos you realized that you did recognize his voice. It was Kim Yugyeom. Your old crush from middle school and high school. He moved to Seoul years ago to train to be a performer and his group did really well for a while. He fell off the public radar after that and you didn’t realize it was him who took over JYP. 

After searching for what seemed like hours, even though it had only been a few moments, Yugyeom turned to you and asked, almost breathless, “What’s your name?”

“My name?” you asked, shocked at first that he didn’t recognize you, “It’s Y/N”

“Y/N.” He said quietly, “You are excused. I’ll have someone from HR come and teach you the ropes.”

You walked out quickly and quietly and sat down at your desk. Of course he wouldn’t remember you. You hadn’t seen him in person in over 10 years. You only knew his looks because he was an idol for so long. 

You were looking down at your hands, fidgeting while thinking about your past with your new boss when you heard footsteps approaching.

“He already has another new assistant?” the voice asked to himself as he approached your desk. “This man need to figure his shit out.” He took a deep breath and stopped walking. “I’m Yug- uh Mr. Kim’s best friend, Bam Bam, buzz me into his office.”

“Bam Bam?” You asked as you looked up. You knew him from before they were famous too. If Yugyeom didn’t recognize you, he surely wouldn’t.

“Holy crap! Y/N??” He asked as he ran around your desk and gave you a huge hug. “I didn’t know you were working for Yugyeom now.”

“Ah. Today is my first day. You remember me?” You asked, spirits lifted.

“OF COURSE!” Bam Bam yelled as he hugged you again. “We used to be so close before Yugyeom and I had to move. After we left we never heard from you again.” Bam Bam leaned in towards your ear, “that part crushed Yugyeom.” He pulled back and smiled as Yugyeom’s office door opened.

“Why are you so loud?” Yugyeom asked as he held the door for Bam Bam before looking at you, “He is one of 4 people you can always let into my office, even if i’m not here. The list is on your computer.” He pulled Bam Bam inside and shut the office door.

“DUDE THAT’S-” You heard Bam Bam start through the frosted glass before Yugyeom shushed him. The rest of their conversation was quiet enough you couldn’t hear it. How you wished you could be a fly on the wall. 

Someone from HR showed up and showed you how Yugyeom wanted you to do your job. He was apparently very unorganized and to make up for it, you had to be scary organized. That’s why he fired 4 of his assistants. You knew you could keep up. If he was anything like the Yugyeom you grew up with, you could figure out his train of thought in no time.

You lasted through day 1. After that, everything fell into place. Bam Bam came by almost every day to see Yugyeom in the morning and would go out to eat with you for lunch. You picked up as friends again just like they had never moved. Once you took the time to set up a new organizational system for Yugyeom and learn how he was systematically ignoring the system, you were able to track down anything and everything he needed. Sometimes you even knew what he was going to ask for before he asked for it. It was a perfect workplace combination. 

Unfortunately, that is all it was. You knew that Bam Bam told Yugyeom exactly who you were, but the CEO never did anything to express that he remembered you. Being around him so much was bringing back old feelings, but you knew you could never act on them. The feelings were one-sided in the past, and they still are now. 

It was especially hard when you saw the old Yugyeom slip through. A soft smile at a video on his phone, his contagious laughter with Bam Bam, the shadow through the frosted glass when he took a dance break to clear his thoughts. The three things that drew you to him in the past, making each day harder. 

Bam Bam surprised you after about 5 months of the job and instead of going out, he decided to bring lunch to you.

“Yugyeom’s out today. Let’s eat in his office.” He said as he pushed the button on your desk to open Yugyeom’s door. “He has REALLY comfy couches in there.” 

“If he finds out he’ll fire me!” You said as you chased Bam Bam into the office.

“I can be here whenever I want and you are here with me. So no rules are broken. Don’t worry Y/N, I won’t let him fire you even if he did find out.”

“Fine, but I’m leaving the door open just in case I’m needed.”

“You do you, fam”

The lunch was fun and Bam Bam was right, the couches were really comfortable. Just as you were getting ready to clean up, Bam Bam got a serious look on his face and pulled you back down onto the couch.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything Bammy.” You said, smiling as you popped a cherry into your mouth.

“Are you still in love with Yugyeom?”

You choked on the cherry so fast, Bam had to slap your back a few times to help you out. 

“Do I-- Yugyeom??” You asked, face blushing.

“I know you used to love him when we were kids.” he started as he still rubbed and patted your back, “And I also know you saw us in concert numerous times and kept tabs on him after we left.” You looked away, embarrassed. “Are there still feelings there?”

“Even if there were,” you started, “and this is totally hypothetical...If there were feelings there, I couldn’t act on them, so why does it matter?”

“So you do still love him?”

“Of course I do.” You admitted quietly. “I thought I stopped, but working for him now, I can see that it never did. That’s why I’m looking for a new job. I can’t work with someone I love so much.”

“You can’t leave.” A voice said from the doorway. “I need you.”

You jump up and panic, cleaning up what was left of the lunch and scrambling.

“Mr. Kim. I- ...You-...You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Which part?” He asked as he approached you, voice soft and gentle.

“The first pa- the sec-. Both?” you said, confused. “Just please forget you heard that conversation.”

“I can’t.” He said calmly as he approached you and took your hand in his. “I love you too. I always have.” A tear streamed down his face, “I was so lost when you stopped texting me when we were kids. I always thought you hated me for leaving. I never forgave myself.” He paused and swallowed hard, “When you appeared as my secretary I thought it was fate giving us a second chance, but I was too scared to say anything to you. If you didn’t feel the same way it would burden you, but now that I know. I want to be with you.”

“You can’t date your secretary, Yugyeom.” you said, trying to back away. 

“Then you’re fired.” he said, very seriously, “You are the best secretary I’ve ever had, but secretaries are replaceable, true loves are not.”

“Yugyeom-”

“No. No buts. If you can’t be both, then you can be my true love. I’ll hire a male secretary too, just so you can’t get jealous. You can help find the replacement if you wa-”

You kissed him. You had to shut him up and this was the only way you could think of.

“DAMNNNNNNNNNN” You heard Bam in the background, a middle finger was Yugyeom’s only response once he realized what was happening.

“Yugyeom. I will find a way to make my job and us work, but nothing here can change. Inside of JYP we are just boss and secretary, outside of JYP we can be whatever you want us to be.”

Yugyeom smiled and hugged you tightly.

“Can we make one exception to that?” He asked as he pulled back to look you in the face, “I want to fuck you on my desk once.”

“I’m OUT!” Bam Bam yelled as he scurried out of the room closing the door behind him, leaving you and Yugyeom alone and laughing.

“You know, Yugyeom...I think we can make that happen.”

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Eighty: Dilemma ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Yamanaka Ino, Haruno Sakura ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ] [ AO3 Link ]

Her day’s off to such a good start. First, her one and only class (a morning one) gets cancelled, leaving her with a day to chip at anything she should be working on (and given recent happenings, a few projects are a little behind schedule - that tends to happen when you accidentally get involved in a world no human believes exists). Breakfast is relaxed, the typical student haunts a bit more empty than usual as most other classes in her block stay on. She even manages to brew a nice cup of tea before settling herself down at her laptop and opening her current in-progress essay.

...that’s when her phone gives a small jolt against her desk.

Hinata’s not one to get texted often - she’s a bit of a wallflower even now in university, and the few friends she’s managed to make seem to just...well, forget about her.

And she really wishes they’d have forgotten about her now.

It’s a demanding text from Ino. And reading it makes Hinata’s stomach sink.

Who was that guy outside the other night?!

Pale eyes stare widely at the little digital words that make her blood go cold with panic. Someone saw him. Someone saw Sasuke. Someone saw Sasuke with her.

And just like she feared, he’s attracted attention. Because no one that attractive would give her attention.

Picking up the phone and twiddling her thumbs over it, Hinata considers her answer, and jumps as another message arrives. This time, it’s Sakura.

Hey, Ino says she saw u with a hottie - scoop plz?

Crap oh crap oh crap -!

She fires off two general replies, one each, doing her best to deflect. But before she can even put the mobile down, more accusatory texts arrive.

Who is he?

How’d u meet him?

Is he single?

ARE YOU DATING?!

Can I meet him?

“Augh!” Tossing her phone on the too-firm mattress in her dorm, Hinata hears it softly buzzing against the blankets as more and more demands fly in. Folding her arms and resting her brow atop them, she groans and sighs. She knew this was going to happen - she knew it! She never should have let him drop her of, she never -

Wait! She has his number! Why berate herself about it when she can berate him? He got her into this whole dilemma, he can figure out a way to get her back out!

Picking up the phone and ignoring her friends, she finds the short message he sent to add his number and fires him a reply.

Hey! I’ve got 2 friends who won’t shut up about you! I tried telling them to drop it, it won’t work. What do I do?

Several minutes pass before she gets a reply she actually wants.

Make something up

Her lips purse tightly.

I tried that! They’re demanding to meet you and to know who you are! I’m not a good liar, Sasuke!

On the other end, rather rudely interrupted from his sleep, Sasuke drags a hand down his face. This girl is hopeless…

Tell them I’m a cop that took you home. It’s true enough, and should kill any interest.

She scoffs. Well...he’s sort of a cop. Just...not human, and...more protecting monsters than humans. Hinata’s just a weird in-between exception.

Opening Sakura’s tirade to reply, she nearly jumps out of her skin as someone pounds a fist against her door.

“Oi, Hina! Open up!”

...oh crap.

Opening it just a crack, she spies both girls looking expectant. “Guys, p-please - I have a paper to write, and -”

Completely ignoring her, the pair barge their way in, looking around as though expecting her to be harboring him somewhere. “Okay Hinata, you’ve got some explaining to do.”

“N-no I don’t!”

“Who was that guy? Tenten snagged a pic on her way in and this guy is drop-dead gorgeous. She’s been sending it to everyone and it just reached me - why didn’t you tell us?” As if presenting evidence of a crime scene, Ino shoves her phone in Hinata’s face, displaying said picture. It’s dark, and a bit grainy...but you can clearly see her and Sasuke in it, just after he took her back to her dorm.

“He looks like a model!” Sakura insists. “What were you doing with this guy?”

“I-I -!”

“And it was, like...super late. Were you hooking up with him, or -”

“H-h-he’s a cop!” Finally cutting in with a shrill shriek, Hinata stuns them both to silence. “I...I got mugged on my way home a few nights before, and -”

“Holy shit, what?!”

“Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Cuz it w-wasn’t a big deal!” Well, it sort of was...she used her witchcraft for the first time, watched a vampire kill another vampire, and was almost drugged. But that wasn’t the night in question. “A-anyway, he’s the one who...who saved me. And then when I lost you guys? On the train? He -”

“Oh yeah, I remember that!”

“He just...t-took me home.”

Looking skeptical, Ino crosses her arms beneath her bust. “So you’re saying this super hot cop saved your ass, twice, and drove you home...and there’s nothing important about that?”

“N-no, there’s not! I’m not exactly p-planning on seeing him again. If anything, I’d like to s-stay out of trouble so I don’t have to!”

“Do you know his name? Anything about him?”

“N-no! Why would -?”

“You have to know these things, Hinata! If not for yourself, then so you can help a girl out! He’s so pretty - I’d kill to get his number!”

Hinata can’t help a small blanch. Oh, if only she knew how dangerous that would be…he’s a vampire! But...they can’t know that! If they did, they’d be -!

“Ugh, I can’t believe you let him get away without getting his number,” Sakura pouts, taking a seat on Hinata’s bed and cradling her chin in her palms, elbows on her knees. “I mean, he looks about our age...there wouldn’t be anything illegal about it, we’re all adults!”

“I’m not sure that’s -”

“Well, if you ever do run into him again, you have to tell us!” Ino insists, brandishing her arms. “Cuz if you’re not going to make a move, I’d certainly love to -”

“I’m not going to run into him again! It’s just...coincidence! He’s a cop - he was just d-doing his job! Neither of us were…were looking for each other!” Technically that’s a lie - he’s sought her out twice now, but...well, she’s not about to admit to that.

There’s a lot she can’t admit to right now.

“Ugh, fine - but you better let me know if you ever see him again! At least snap a better pic, okay? This one’s not that great.”

Hinata pouts. “...I’ll be sure to do that...now can I please get back to my homework? Some of us prefer to use our free time studying rather than gossiping.”

Clearly disappointed, both girls abandon the room, and Hinata shuts the door behind them...and makes sure to lock it before flopping face-down on her bed with a sigh.

...sure, this isn’t nearly as bad for her as nearly becoming vampire food, but...well, it’s still a huge pain. They’re doing to dog her for a while about this, if she knows them at all. If there’s one thing Ino and Sakura take seriously, it’s scouting the campus for attractive men.

Which, typically, is the last thing on Hinata’s mind, but...well, now she can’t help but think about Sasuke and how much trouble he’s getting her in!

Rolling over, she sends him one more text, expression sour.

I just got raided by two lusty ladies and it’s all your fault!

Checking his phone one last time, Sasuke snorts.

I’m afraid that’s outside my jurisdiction. You’ll have to handle them on your own.

Some great cop you are.

I don’t make the laws, witchy woman. I just enforce them.

     A bit early for once! My "summer" job is starting soon, so I've got to adjust my sleeping habits, haha - I'll (hopefully) be posting earlier from now on!      Aaanyway, more witchy Hina and vampy Sasuke. As Hinata feared, he's attracting unwanted attention. Sure, he can't help his looks, but...SHE'S the one who has to deal with her friends drooling over him! And keeping them away from what they can't even know is a lot of danger is harder than it looks. Hinata hates lying! Which is why she's so poor at it! So, half-truths it is, then. That TOTALLY won't come back around to bite her!      ...of course, we'd rather something else would ;3      But yeah, that'll do it for tonight! Thanks, as always, for reading!

[angstymarshmallow]

Fresh Start (Hunt x MC)

[A little note: After that chapter with Viktor Montemartre..I just have a lot of conflicting feelings. So on a whim, I wrote this. There isn’t a lot of details in regards to what happened, I feel like sexual harassment is a very tenative topic, and if you aren’t comfortable with any mentions of it - feel free to ignore seeing this across your dash. Plus I’ve waited like 10 years to write hunt x mc fanfiction lol. P.S. If you read this, thanks so much for reading! I’ve been feeling really down about everything, even my writing so this always means a lot!].

[Word Count: 2102]

[Tags:  @mariamatsuo @mrswalkerwrites, @nerdpossible, @mysteli, @simplyaiden-blog, @innerpostmentality  @craftytacotrashdream, @nathan-sterling, if you want to be added or removed from this list - let me know].

Her hands are shaking and much to no avail – she cannot get the shaking to stop. They tremble harder the longer she stares, and she stares at them like it is the first time she has paid attention to the smooth planes in her palm. 

Yet, very quickly – her hands change. 

They turn paler by the second and she watches in complete horror as they warp; blurring until the next time she blinks they are suddenly too big and too board to be hers; too manicured to belong to her. An image of Viktor Montmartre burns itself through the wall she’s placed inside her head.

Her heart nearly comes to a stop and the music pulsating around her quickly filters out. It becomes background noise while she studies her hands. It’s impossible – she knows it cannot be his hands that is attached to her skin and yet her haggard mind seems to feel differently.

Her stomach drops and she clenches her fists. She digs little moons into her palms as she forcibly drops them to her sides. She has to convince herself that it isn’t real – not this part.

The alcohol simply isn’t doing its justice.

She shifts forward into her bar stool and catches sight of her phone’s bright light from the corner of her eyes. She ignores the incoming text from her friends and grits her teeth.

She swears she can still feel his stare, gazing at her hungrily despite her protests and indignation when he suggested she slept with him. She can still feel his breath unwantedly grazing her neck when he pulled her solidly against his chest, and his fingers tugged her into him, reeking of cologne before she finally managed to wrench herself free.

She squeezes her eyes shut and forces the bile she feels rising to her throat back. She can’t think like that. She can’t let him win.

Today marks two weeks since it happened, two weeks since the moment she walked away from Viktor Montmartre’s…nauseating and horrifying deal. She knows she’s shut her friends out in the days she chose to spend moping inside her home with only her ocelot for company. Shutting everyone out has been the only way for her to pretend she’s okay but after two weeks, she could ignore them no longer.  

Tonight is supposed to be some kind of celebration from her leaving her home and joining them back in the waking world. Although she doesn’t have anything lined up after the action movie deal blew up in her face – she’s kept a wide berth from the public.

You’re here to have fun Tate, not to mope. A small voice implores her, begs her as she watches the empty shot glass in front of her.

Except the thought of his cold hands on her – it isn’t something she can easily forget. Even after the rounds of shots she’s done, even after the fourteen days since she bounded the steps of his manor – it doesn’t feel quite like it’s over. For her, it’s still happening, as if any minute now the door of this club would open and her blood would run cold once she meets his chilly stare across the room.

She has to get out of here.

She’s already half-way off the stool, chugging the new shot she’s ordered when her brain persists and orders her to stop. No Tate, you can’t think like that. You can’t give him that kind of power over you – that satisfaction that he’s broken you.

The words don’t sound like her; they sound like her mother on the night when she told her.  Like a tidal wave, the words sweep her into its embrace, providing her strength she’s never known she was capable of. And for a moment, she wants to push past the fear that threatens to cripple her. She can’t let something like this ruin her – she won’t let it. And yet, it doesn’t stop the insidious thoughts from filtering through after finding cracks she’s tried so desperately behind to slip through.

“Excuse me,Tatum...?”

Her eyes fly open at the familiar voice’s greeting. To say it’s unexpected was putting it mildly. She places an arm across the bar counter to steady herself as she turns to meet his expression. Thomas Hunt in the flesh is standing a littles less than five feet from her – looking concerned as ever as his eyes sweep up and down to take in her dishelmed appearance.

           Five shots of tequila definitely did not do the trick. “Thomas Hunt?” She says uncertaintly, “The Thomas Hunt? – The one that wanted to sign me on his next new movie?” She’s babbling but she can’t help it, she thinks if she stops she won’t have anything more to distract herself with. She thinks if she stops, she’ll think of Viktor.

“The very one and the same,” he replies good-naturedly. “Good evening, are you –” He steps closer and involuntarily she winces. His brows creases. “Are you quite alright?”

Yes. It is the automatic answer she’s always given; the answer she’s said without thinking to her friends ever since it happened. “Yes, I’m fine.” She tries to keep her voice steady but thinks she fallen short of her mark the moment he frowns.

“You aren’t alright,” he says this a matter-of-factly, but doesn’t seem capable of pursing it any further.

Tatum thinks he’s waiting for her to say more. “What are you doing here?” She tries to change the subject instead; deflecting and directing attention off herself has always been one of her best coping mechanisms. “I thought this wasn’t your sort of thing.” She’s proud of herself for finding it in her to keep her voice light, and teasing. Already she can feel the buzz fading, receding and forcing her thoughts to the present. Need more alcohol, she thinks to herself while she waits for his answer.

She hails the bartender for another drink with the flick of her wrist. “It isn’t a celebration without drinks. What’s your poison?”

“I prefer to order for myself,” Thomas interjects thinly. “Although, I hardly think this place can meet the standards of my particular palette.”

“We can try.” The bartender states flatly, although he’s cordial enough to smile.

Thomas orders and mercifully, the bartender does his best to follow his crisp directions.

Silence falls between them for the better half of a minute while they wait for the arrival of their drinks. Tatum turns to him, “I thought you were too good to be seen in places like this.”

“Oh, I am,” Thomas replies shortly, tucking his hands into his tailored coat. “I was just…” he trails off for a moment, seeming lost in thought. “After I heard about what happened with Tommy Phelps…”

Hearing his name and the movie that was completely out of her hands makes Tatum wince. She downs her drink quickly as Thomas pauses again; his brows forming that familiar crease again.

“Perhaps this is better discussed in a more private area.”

Viktor Montmartre’s cruel smirk grips her mind. The reaction is instantaneous. She flinches, and sucks in a deep breath. Her reaction is pure instinct and instead of taking his outstretched arm, she reels away and clenches her hands into fist at her sides. The words come out in a rush, hot and angry as she points flippantly at him. “I am not going anywhere with you.” She storms past him and ignores the quizzical look on his face.

“I think there is some confusion –”

“Oh, there’s no confusion.” She whips her head around; gray eyes the colour of cement steel as they glare up at him. I’m not going to be a victim – never ever again. “Whatever you’re offering – I don’t want it.”

“Tatum,” his eyes flash with confusion but she isn’t fooled.

“Anything you need to say to me, you can say it here!” She yells, folding her arms.

“I’m not where this…aggression is coming from, but I assure you – the quality of my movie would far than rival anything else Tommy Phelps had in store for you. In fact,” he steps a little closer; his voice lowering to match his shrewd gaze. “I think it’s impervious we go forward with making you my lead.”

Her eyes widen. The smart-ass remark she’s been sitting on for the last several minutes vanishes. “You – what?” She stares up at him in disbelief. Even after every curve ball Viktor has tried to block in her career – and Tommy Phelps dropping her as his lead; she didn’t think anyone in this city wanted to work with her ever again.

“I require you for my movie.” He implores, “no one has been able to fill the shoes I know you can fill.” His eyes search hers; more open and honest than she thinks is possible for someone like Thomas Hunt. “They all fall a little short in some fashion and I,” He averts his eyes for a moment, “I would be a fool no to take advantage of such raw talent.”

Tatum stares at him, completely stunned. The last thing she had anticipated was this. Involuntarily, tears seem to swell from the corner of her eyes. “You want to work with…me?”

“I thought that was obvious, yes.” He says impatiently.

“But, you shouldn’t.” She can’t believe she’s saying this but she knows enough about Thomas Hunt and the quality he creates that her current reputation presented a predicament. She isn’t a fool to think he hasn’t heard what Viktor has said about her – all the horrid things he sold to gossip magazines as her coming onto to him as a way of using his success to climb her way to the top. “You’re better off finding someone that isn’t…” She trails off, staring blankly her feet. Someone that hasn’t been tarnished by the media.

The impatient noise he makes at the back of her throat throws her. She stares up at him; watching those often intense-looking dark brown eyes flicker over in annoyance. “If you’re looking for pity Tatum you won’t find that here. I was under the impression that you were a hard worker and your passion for acting seemed second to none.” A frown flits over his face, “if something as ridiculous as rumors will deter you so easily then perhaps you are not what I am looking for.”

As he turns to leave, she stares at his retreating figure. He doesn’t believe in them, he doesn’t care about rumors, Tatum thinks with a jolt of surprise. She doesn’t know why – but realizing he isn’t concerned with such things, makes her heart flutter.

Tatum shakes her head clear. She knows she’s running out of options – the upkeep of her home alone won’t pay for itself without something. And while she cannot remember the important details of his script, Tatum recognizes that this was one of those-once-in-a-lifetime opportunities her mother had used endlessly talk about the last time she did a talent show.

Tatum’s hands extend and reach for his arm without even thinking. “Wait!”

His body comes to a complete stop so swiftly that she nearly knocks into him. Digging her feet into her heels, she plants them with enough force to stop herself from tittering over embarrassingly into him. “I’ll do it.” She says quietly. At the quirk of his eyebrows, she quickly rushes on. “I’ll accept your deal.” She takes a ragged breath. “I want to be the next lead in your movie.”

For a moment, Tatum fears he won’t accept her sudden change of heart. His eyes are too hard to read in this light, and although he hasn’t moved away as though he’s quietly deliberating on something – she’s suddenly struck with panic that he’s withdrawn his offer.

Then the strangest thing happens.

Thomas smiles.

He smiles and Tatum thinks she has never seen something as beautiful as his smile in her entire life. She has always thought the director was handsome, one of the richest bachelors in his own rite but the way those lips of his move; unaccustomed to the confident smile – she feels light-headed.

His face seems to linger on hers’, flits down to her lips; or perhaps she is seeing things once they meet her earnest gaze.

And just as quickly, the smile fades as his hand reached out to steady her. His smile is replaced by a curt nod as he drops his hands back to his sides. “I will see you bright and early tomorrow.” He hands her a card in flourish.

“Tomorrow?” She echoes dumbfoundedly. His name is printed in large and eloquent cursive writing along with an obscure logo from the dainty piece of paper.

“Tomorrow.” He repeats, and before Tatum can thank him – he is already gone; moving through the crowd at a terse pace to escape the music and the people.

She hides a smile as her thumb traces over the thick letters of his name, hoping this deal is exactly the fresh start she needs.

-

[kpopfanfictrash]

Stress Relief

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jimin

Rating: 18+ (explicit sex, dirty talk, spanking, sex toy)

Word Count: 2,010

Summary: Jimin keeps working late. He decides to wake you up in a way you can’t refuse.

You’ve been asleep for over an hour when Jimin comes home. The apartment door creaks when it opens, Jimin attempting to be silent and wildly failing. Lately, he’s been working late every night at the office. There’s a big project coming up on his team, so your boyfriend’s been under a lot of stress to make sure things are perfect. Everything is riding on his shoulders, since Jimin will be the one presenting to the board.

It means you haven’t seen much of him these past few days. He’s been practically living at the office, only returning home each night for a few hours sleep – collapsing beside you, rubbing your back with his hand before he passes out on the pillow. Jimin wakes again the next morning, heading to work and the whole thing repeats itself.

Tonight seems to be no exception. It’s sometime past midnight when Jimin returns home. He doesn’t turn on the lights, merely drops his bag on the floor and feels his way towards the bathroom. When he enters, you hear the brushing of teeth, a splash of water before he changes into pajamas in the dark of your bedroom.

Until now, you’ve been asleep. Lost in a dreamland, completely oblivious to his presence, but when Jimin crawls into bed beside you, he slides a hand beneath your shirt. Moving lower, much lower, than he usually does. 

“Y/N,” Jimin whispers, his hand cupping your ass. “Are you awake?”

You grumble and burrow deep in the pillow. Refusing to open your eyes, you kick limply with your foot. Jimin doesn’t retract, pressing himself firm to your backside. 

“Y/N,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss to your shoulder. You’re wearing a camisole and boy shorts, something Jimin doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of. “Are you awake,” he whispers, his thumb tracing eagerly over an already-hardening nipple.

Unwittingly, your thighs press together. As Jimin lowers his lips to the skin of your neck, he sucks a hickey and his hand moves even lower.

“I’m asleep,” you mutter, though you arch backwards. “Go away.”

At your shoulder, you feel Jimin’s lips lift in a smile. “Then why is your ass pressing into my boner?”

You stop moving.

Jimin chuckles, his hand firm on your thigh. “I’m tense,” he admits, a bit quiet. “It’s been a long week, but tonight we finally finished.”

“That’s good,” you mumble, though you don’t turn. “I’m happy for you.”

Softly, Jimin’s hand drifts even lower. He tugs your shorts from your stomach, sliding his thumb across the sensitive skin. 

“Mm,” he agrees, shifting closer. “But now I keep thinking about what comes next. I have to give this presentation.” His fingers slip between your folds, forcing your breath to tighten in your throat. “I just want to forget about that. Want to forget as I sink my dick into your tight, sweet pussy.”

Fuck. Now you’re awake, but still – he needs to work for this. Jimin woke you up, which he’s not supposed to do. That was one of your rules when you decided to move in: to respect the others’ sleep schedule. His fingers fall from your body as you roll to face him, pouting when you see his lazy expression. 

“Not fair,” you whisper.

Jimin smiles, angelic in his presence. The moonlight shines on his face, making him look utterly sinful. Jimin didn’t wear a shirt to bed – though you knew this the moment he pressed his body to yours. His gaze travels your body, drinking in the sight of your curves beneath the sheets.

“I’m tired,” you say, your eyes falling shut.

“That’s okay.” 

He moves, his body rolling from bed and you crack open an eye, curious. Jimin opens the bedside table and glances his shoulder – when he catches you looking, your eyes instantly shut. 

Jimin laughs, his weight returning beside you. “Cheater,” he murmurs, while a soft buzzing fills the room.

Now, your eyes fly open. “Babe,” you inhale when you realize he’s holding your vibrator.

Jimin smiles. “Shh,” he whispers, lifting the band of your shorts.

You inhale when he slides the toy over your skin. Jimin pushes himself to his elbows, staring at you while he pulls back the sheet. Keeping the vibrator firmly between your sex and your shorts – he finally gives up, and removes your shorts entirely.

“There,” he murmurs as he spreads your legs. 

His fingers trail lower, one slipping inside as he readjusts himself on the bed. The toy hums and you arch into it’s motion. 

“Does that feel good,” Jimin murmurs. He presses the tip to your sex, watching your walls start to crumble. He traces above, over, below your clit – not giving you what you want, until you make an actual whimper. “Do you need more, baby?” 

You gasp when Jimin increases the setting. 

“Fuck,” you groan, arching into him – Jimin reaches out, tugging your camisole up to reveal your breasts.

“So pretty.” He bends, capturing a rosy bud between lips. Jimin sucks roughly before rolling your nipple with his tongue. “Are you awake now?” he repeats, taking his time.

You struggle not to moan when he moves the vibrator lower. “I,” you inhale, eyelids fluttering. “I’m basically asleep, Jimin.”

“Oh?” Jimin sits up and removes the sheet entirely. He moves to straddle your waist, withdrawing the vibrator and pushing apart your legs. The next thing you know are his lips, soft as they travel the curves of your stomach. When he reaches your thighs, Jimin licks a slow strip up your sex. He moves his tongue gently, skillfully as the vibrator nudges your core. “What about now,” Jimin murmurs, before pushing inside.

You gasp his name, hands fisting in the sheets as you’re stretched. Jimin’s tongue flicks faster, he holds your hips still with one hand while he fucks you with the vibrator. Pushing it in and out of you, sucking roughly while you moan above him.

“God,” Jimin murmurs, before pulling away. He continues with the vibrator, shoving it further – but replaces his mouth, with the press of his thumb. “Your clit is so swollen – so pretty and pink. Y/N, are you awake now?”

“God,” you mumble, grasping his thighs. “Jimin,” you moan, arching upwards again.

Jimin smirks, eyes glinting as he slides his thumb upwards. “Yes, babe?”

“I need you,” you gasp, grinding messily into his hand. “Please, just fuck me – I want your cock, I want to be wrapped around your dick.”

His smile disappears, replaced with an intense, needy expression. “Fuck,” Jimin mutters, pulling the vibrator away. He tosses this aside, nodding when you fumble with the top of his boxers. “I love your dirty mouth,” he hisses, pushing his hips into your hands. “There, baby. Take me out – touch me there, just like that.”

You whimper, shoving the fabric down his firm, toned thighs. Jimin watches this removal, cock slapping up hard against his stomach. He’s throbbing, the tip of him red and glistening with precum and you reach for his cock, unable to stop yourself. Jimin grunts, watching you slide your fingers briefly inside your cunt. When you touch him, it’s wet, and you slide your hand up the length, over his tip – and Jimin’s fingers wrap quickly around your wrist.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, bending down to shove your legs apart. “No more teasing – I’ve been hard since I came home and remembered the last thing we did in the shower.”

You smile, hands circling his hips as he aligns himself to your core. “You liked that, didn’t you,” you purr, fingers raking his back. “Liked turning me against the wall, smacking your cock to my clit like a little bitc- “

Jimin shoves his dick inside and you gasp, unable to think for a long, hot second. Jimin isn’t the biggest you’ve ever had but he’s thick. He stretches you perfectly, much more than your vibrator, forcing you to feel every inch of him.

“What was that,” Jimin murmurs, opening your mouth with his. He kisses you messily, pulling out to thrust back inside. ‘What were you saying about my cock,” he hums, while he circles his hips.

“I love it,” you choke out, and he sits himself up. Jimin reaches, wrapping your legs around the curve of his waist. “I love it when you fuck me like this,” you groan, “love when you fill up my pussy with your thick, thick cock.”

Jimin lazily circling your clit with his fingers, sliding in and out. “Your tight little cunt likes to be fucked, huh,” he muses, watching his cock disappear – over and over, inside. “You’re so fucking wet – have you been like this all night, waiting for me to get home?”

“Mm,” you whimper, nodding. “I didn’t even touch myself, I just wanted you.”

“Good,” Jimin demands, pulling himself out. He grabs your hips tightly, fingers digging into flesh as he flips you over. “Ass in the air,” he instructs, watching you obey. “Good girl.” 

He slides his finger over your slit, pushing inside before pulling out – dick soon replaces his finger, sliding up and down your wetness.

“Fuck,” you groan, when he pushes inside. It’s so deep, so tight from behind. He shoves your chest lower, grabbing onto your hips as he finally starts to move. “Jimin,” you moan out, one hand sliding between your legs. You tease over your clit, while he pounds you into the mattress. “God, yes.”

Jimin reaches down, pushing your hand away from your body. He teases the swollen bud himself, rubbing gentle circles as his cock thrusts deeper. “I can do that,” he whispers, kissing your neck. “You need more than just my dick, don’t you? Need more than just my cock; you want my fingers and my mouth, and god knows what else. You’re so greedy, and I love it.”

Jimin speeds up, hips slamming against your ass – bruising, while he fucks you and already, your insides are trembling. Each stroke is like wildfire, slamming into your core as the flames fan out, consuming you whole. Jimin rubs your ass, spanking hard enough that you moan.

“Harder, babe?” Jimin grunts, before slapping you again. “Can you take any more?”

“For you, I can,” you moan, knowing how much he loves that. Jimin loves to be praised, loves being in control. “For you, I can take it.”

Jimin’s breath hitches, and he moves faster. You collapse halfway, unable to move from the force of his pounding but you’re tight – so tight – and your body is aching to come undone. When Jimin spanks again, then rubs gentle circles on your clit, you come. Gasping his name, while your vision turns dark. Jimin only lasts a while longer, fucking your shaking body before pulling himself out and coming on your pussy.

The two of you have been dating long enough that he can come inside. You’ve taken all the proper precautions but still, Jimin likes it like this occasionally, Likes to jerk himself off and watch the mess of white, drip down on your cunt. “Ah,” he sighs, spreading you with his fingers. “What a mess.” Jimin murmurs, then slaps your pussy with his softening cock – laughing, when you shove your hips backwards.

“Hey,” you complain, though Jimin is already up and rolling from bed.

He disappears into the backroom – and damn, what a view – before reappearing to wipe a cloth over himself. When he joins you in bed, Jimin helps you with after care – slowly cleaning his mess, making sure you’re satisfied before collapsing beside you.

“Sorry,” Jimin murmurs, rubbing the already reddening mark on your ass.

You smile, curling into him. “Don’t be,” you grin, slightly breathless. As Jimin reaches though, throwing the cloth into your laundry – you wrap your arms tight around his waist. “That was amazing,” you whisper, lips brushing his arm. “You’re amazing.”

Jimin just chuckles, intertwining his legs with yours. “Thanks for getting up,” he murmurs. “I know you hate that.”

“If you wake me up like that,” you arch a brow, finding him smiling. “I don’t think I’ll complain.”

“Deal,” Jimin yawns, and within minutes –  the two of you are fast asleep.

[megaphonemonday]

guys like you - chapter 4

once is an accident | twice is a coincidence | three times is a pattern | four times is forever

rating: explicit

For a team that’d just won their first preseason game, the mood on the bus ride home from Cal Poly is pretty dire. There’s no joking, no horsing around. Everyone sits firmly in their seat, the only conversations hushed and furtive, in between nervous glances towards the back of the bus.

The back of the bus where their illustrious captain sits, moodily taking up the entire three person bench. Even the generous cushion of empty seats around him isn’t quite enough to insulate the rest of the bus from his sulk.

(Given his proximity to the bus bathroom, Ginny’s willing to bet more than a few of her teammates are nursing full bladders and some very unkind thoughts.)

No one’s been brave enough to approach him. 

Not even Ginny.

He needs time to stew. Stew over going 0 for 3 at the plate and airmailing a throw down. Stew over being yanked from his game in favor of Livan, who, to be fair, had not taken the change gracefully. 

Ginny gets it, she does. But. 

She’s got plans to ruin that boy in the very near future. His time for pouting is pretty limited.

read the rest on ao3!

[9r7g5h]

Facing the Minotaur - P13

Fandom: Xena: Warrior Princess

Rating: T

Genre: Action/Adventure

Summary: When the Queen of Crete goes missing, it’s up to Xena and Gabrielle to save her. But when that means delving into the depths of the Labyrinth, can they even save themselves?

Words: 4,223

AN: Sorry I’m so bad at remembering to post on time. I’m a silly potato who forgets that she’s supposed to be dong that whole posting thing. This is the second to last chapter, so next Friday we’ll get to see the end of Facing the Minotaur! So enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Xena.

P1, P2, P3, P4, P5, P6, P7, P8, P9, P10, P11, P12, P13, P14

Clutching at the gash on the side of her arm, her chakram falling to the stone floor, Xena quickly blinked away the remains of the vision, the pain and blood covering her enough to keep her grounded. For the moment, anyway.

But there was no knowing how long it would last, how long she would have until the labyrinth’s seduction pulled her back in, and she had to make every moment count.  

Gabrielle and the Minotaur stood before her, their eyes blank- occasionally they would shift, ever so slightly, but it was clear that the labyrinth had them in its grasps, has successfully pulled them into their temptation. A temptation she could still hear, that still whispered away in the back of her mind, teasing her with promises and lies that it couldn’t fulfill, not in the realm of reality. But now that she knew what to look for, what to focus on, it was easier to keep her mind on the present, instead of the impossibility the labyrinth was offering her.

In that world, except for her headache, she hadn’t known pain. It had been almost perfect, but when she had cut herself…

Grabbing Gabrielle’s staff from where it had fallen on the ground, Xena swung, smacking the thick wooden pole into the Minotaur’s head, the wood creaking as it threatened to break on impact. But the solid thwack had done its job. Snorting, wheeling from the pain, the Minotaur’s eyes focused in on Xena, narrowing in anger as it rubbed the side of its skull, right below its horn, where the staff had made contact.

“Start walking,” Xena growled, shifting her hand so it was holding her wound, digging her nails into the tender, exposed muscle as her vision shifted ever so slightly, driving away the feeling of warmth and smell of grass for the death stink of the labyrinth and the copper of her own blood instead. Glancing down the hall, she could see the end of the labyrinth- a couple hundred yards or so, and they would be there.

They would be free.

It had started out as whispers at first, when they had entered the final third of the labyrinth. Almost more like a buzzing of a fly when you were half asleep, something they could shake off but sluggishly. And they were voices they didn’t want to shake off- Gabrielle had muttered to herself as they walked, holding a one sided conversation with her parents about her writing. They had loved her latest scroll, and couldn’t wait for the next one. She herself had heard Lyceus, telling her that, if she just stood still for a moment while he finished getting ready, they’d be able to go train in the fields together. Even the Minotaur had heard, had spoken out at something the voices had whispered in its ear, had replied “You really think I’d do a good job?” in a wavery, almost breathless voice.

And the voices had only grown louder, more real, the further they had walked. It was a straight line, just like the Minotaur had said, a straight shot from the center of the labyrinth to the exit, but the further you walked the harder it became to remember. Remember that the world, the stones and the magic and the imminent death if they gave in, was real. It became harder and harder to reject the voices, the little flashes of something else that would occasionally fall over their eyes, their sight blinded by the images. And it was so, so hard to fight, because everything within them pulled. Pulled towards the lies, begged to accept them, desired so badly to replace the real world with the one the labyrinth was offering- Xena wasn’t surprised that they had been sucked in.

The labyrinth was desperate to keep them, to make sure they didn’t succeed, and it had almost won.

But she knew how to play its game now, and she refused to be defeated so easily.

Smacking the Minotaur again with the staff, this time using her injured arm so the movement pulled at the wound, sending a spike of pain through herself, Xena jerked her head towards the exit. She almost smiled when the Minotaur snorted, pressing at its now bruised ribs to increase the pain instead of driving it away, because at least the creature understood. It bent quickly and gathered as much of their things as it could- the spool, their bags of supplies, the things that had fallen from their hands when their grips had gone slack- and began, its steps almost hesitant as it began to walk.

It was clear that the Minotaur wanted to stay- it had enjoyed its temptation, had enjoyed whatever world the labyrinth had created for it- but it jabbed its thumb into its ribs and kept walking, heading towards the exit so it could finally leave its home.

Gabrielle still stood there, gaze blank as she stared ahead, unaware of the world around her. A small line of blood trailed down her neck, soaking into the line of her shirt- a stab of guilt for Xena when she noticed it, when she saw the damage she had done to her friend, thinking her something else. But clearly that pain hadn’t been enough.

Whispering a soft “Sorry, Gabrielle,” Xena quickly untied and slipped off one of her gauntlets, making sure nothing would be between their skins. Shifting slightly, Xena sighed…and backhanded Gabrielle as hard as she could, the sickening sound of knuckle hitting cheek almost enough to set her stomach rolling, especially as Gabrielle let out a pained cry as she fell. Xena was by her side in a moment, pulling her into her lap, apologizing as she held Gabrielle as she came back from the world the labyrinth had captured her in.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Gabrielle blinked away the daze and tears, her fingers brushing against her already red flesh, the world slowly coming back into focus as she remembered where they were. And caught sight of Xena’s arm, the blood still trickling from the wound, her eyes widening in panic as she realized just how much of it had already escaped.

“Xena, you’re hurt,” Gabrielle exclaimed, shifting in Xena’s grasp so her arm was in her lap, one hand pressing hard against the wound while she looked around for their bags, clearly puzzled when she couldn’t find them. “Where…” Her voice trailed off as Xena gently pushed her away, both of them rising to their feet as Xena turned her so they were facing after the Minotaur. The great beast was already closing in on the exit, its pacing having picked up since it was freed, but it was clear it was wavering.

“Walk,” Xena ordered, her other hand taking the place of Gabrielle’s to push on the wound- both to stop the blood (it wasn’t that deep, not enough to be of any real danger to her, but she was already weakened, and to lose much more would mean a while in bed to heal, something they didn’t have the time for now) and to cause more pain. Seeing that Gabrielle’s eyes had become slightly glazed again, Xena reached up and flicked her on the same cheek she had just assaulted, the pain bringing her back. “Focus on the pain,” Xena demanded, taking a few steps of her own, half turned to make sure Gabrielle was still following, “and walk.”

It took them a long time to cover the short distance, stumbling over themselves and each other as they labyrinth tried time and again to pull them back, to force them back into the world they had seen as perfect, where they were controllable. Pliable, more than willing to do whatever was necessary to ensure their happiness was secure. A world without pain, without sadness, without fear and destruction- it tried, so so hard, to pull them back.

Xena stumbled, and this time she failed to catch herself, falling to the floor instead, where the tiny stones dug into her hands and her knees- pain she almost didn’t feel, because it was a soft rug, the same rug she remembered from when she was little. Loosely woven wool, it was soft and warm and had laid on the floor of her room ever since she was little, the gift of an aunt who had died when she was still a babe in arms, nursing from her mother. It had kept her feet warm during the winter months, during those first few moments of awakening when the harsh touch of cold wood would be almost painful, and now it was warming her again.

All she needed to do was lie down, close her eyes, and just relax…

But she couldn’t, because hands were pulling at her, at her armor, her limbs, dragging her back to her feet despite the weak protests she gave, despite the fact that she had become a dead weight, unwilling (or maybe unable?) to move. There was a light so close by, and she didn’t want to leave the dark- it was warm here, warm and comfortable and safe, and to leave the darkness, to go out into the cold, unwelcoming light?

Her sword was in hand before she could even register that the voice in her ear was whispering at her to stop it, to destroy thing trying to drag her from her rest. All she needed to do was sink her blade into the soft flesh, to wet her blade with its blood, to end this so she could just sleep.

A grunt- that of a beast, not a human- as something stopped her swing, and her sword was torn from her hand, another pair of hands helping her to stand, pulling her stumbling forward, out of the darkness, into the light.

It was raining.

The moment they stepped out of the labyrinth, that was all Xena could focus on: the rain wetting her hair and skin and leathers, the chill- a different kind from the ones the labyrinth had given her, a chill of cold instead of horror -the smell of lightning and the growing scent of wet cow besides her, all of it mixing together to create something wholly alive, alive and delicious and sweet as she tilted her head back, opening her mouth to allow the rain to wet her suddenly parched tongue.

It was the same peace that came after a battle, after a mighty victory, but there was still the dying left to attend to. A dying thing that made its presence known as it groaned.

The three of them were pitched forward as the ground behind them shook, an almost pitiful wail breaking from the exit they had stumbled out of. It was shrinking as they turned to watch, the stone twisting in on itself, the joints of the exit blending together to create one solid wall, impenetrable without tools they didn’t have. At the edge of her hearing she could almost make out words, curses in some ancient language she did not know but that still struck deep, their meaning clear through the tone of hatred that had accompanied them. But soon even those were gone as the stones shifted one final time, as the ground before them settled, as the sound of the rain became the loudest in their ears.

The labyrinth was gone. They had won, and Crete could be at peace.

Until the Minotaur took up the shriek, the noise almost unnatural as it came from its lips. It tore at itself, great hands grabbing and yanking off chunks of fur and skin, breaking off its own horns and using the jagged ends to cut deep into itself, pulling at the breaks in its hide to tear them off, blood splashing the ground around it as it continued to scream. Gabrielle lunged forward, trying to stop it, her own panicked yells mixing with the beasts as she tried to help, but Xena’s arm caught her around her waist, pulling her back so they were free from the range of splattering gore as the Minotaur destroyed itself.

It eventually collapsed, its breathing ragged and pained as it fell to its knees, its body a mess of cuts and missing fur, exposing the muscle beneath. Lifting its head, its small eyes met their gazes, and somehow it smiled. Smiled and nodded its great head in some form of thanks, before it laid down, settling itself onto the grass below, grass that would have been crimson had it not been for the rain.

Lying there, finally free from the labyrinth, the Minotaur breathed its last.

“Why didn’t you help it,” Gabrielle demanded angrily, squirming free from Xena’s grasp and running to the Minotaur’s side, kneeling next to it. She sounded close to tears as she ran her hand along its muzzle, touching the coarse fur that covered it. It seemed almost…smaller, now that it was no longer towering over them, now that its impressive, imitative aurora was gone. Almost helpless, something it had never been in life. Looking up at Xena, a sob broke from Gabrielle’s lips. “We could have saved it.”

“We did.” Coming to kneel next to Gabrielle, Xena pulled out her chakram and began to cut, following the lines the creature itself had made before its death. Down the arms, across the spine, following the twisted bend of cow hooves that made up the feet, Xena carefully cut into the creature’s body, ignoring the small sounds of protest Gabrielle let out every couple of moments. Her task almost complete, Xena returned to the head and carefully lifted it into her lap, taking her own moment to smooth down some of the ruffled fur.

If she was right, a few quick cuts would end this. If she was wrong, well, they’d build a pyre after the rain had stopped, and this would be just another splotch staining her already blood covered hands.

Three quick slices- one along the back of the head, connecting to the one she had made along the spine, and two across the face, between the eyes to meet with the corners of the mouth. A quick smack- breaking the skull underneath, shattering the bone with her weapon, the pieces shifting beneath her hand. Returning the head to the ground, Xena stood and stepped away, pulling Gabrielle with her to give the Minotaur space.

It began to move, muscles twitching and shifting under the fur, the body straining along the lines Xena had cut into it, the fur peeling back as they watched to show not muscle and sinew and bones but instead human flesh, skin crusted in gore as it tore itself free from the body it had previously inhabited. Hooves became feet and hulking fingers became delicate, fingers that darted upwards and dug themselves into the mass of fur and cracked bones Xena had left behind, picking apart the pieces that kept it restrained as it struggled free from its cage.

The head burst free, gasping for breath, and even though her entire body was red, red that was slowly dripped away as the rain fell upon her, there was no mistaking the familiar wide brown eyes that stared back at them, nor was there any chance she could be anyone else.

Walking over to where their bags had been dropped in their hurry to escape from the labyrinth, Xena pulled free a clean cloth and handed it over, smiling as the woman took it and began to clear the gore from her face. She hesitantly smiled back, eyes darting between Xena and Gabrielle. When she spoke, her voice was small, far different from the booming octaves of the Minotaur she had once been.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Queen Pelopia.”

They stayed the night on that mountainside, tending to themselves and each other. They were exhausted, in absolutely no condition to travel- Gabrielle almost had fit when, a few moments after Xena had finished greeting the Queen, she unsteadily sat, the world spinning unhappily around her. In the excitement of the moment she had forgotten about her arm, the blood that fell from the wound unnoticeable from the blood from the Minotaur, from Queen Pelopia’s former shell, that covered her arms now.

An easy oversight, especially since it no longer hurt. She was cold, terribly cold, but she didn’t hurt.

She was only partly aware of the movement around her- Gabrielle cursing as she threaded their needle, Pelopia using the other half of the cloth Xena had given her, the part that still remained mostly clean, to clean around the wound, the cloth turning black and the rain making pink trails on her skin as she worked. The quick successions of painful pricks as Gabrielle sewed together her arm, and even more curses as Gabrielle saw how much damage had been done. Not enough to be permanent, and not enough to even fret over, really. It was deep, but Xena had avoided anything important, and while the blood loss was concerning, otherwise she would be fine. Just needed a few days to rest and heal, to let the skin knit itself back together, and she would be fine.

Not that she said anything as Pelopia held a skin of water to her lips, Xena quickly drinking to replace the fluids she had lost. Not with Gabrielle almost glaring daggers at her for being hurt; Xena knew any attempt to wave her off would only result in more trouble for her later, so she let her friends take care of her.

They ended up settling themselves under a large tree, the branches wide and the ground semi-dry under it, good enough shelter for now. Pelopia, unwilling to sit still with her skin still covered in her own blood, and claiming she knew the area decently enough to not get lost, left to get clean- there was a stream not far from here, one they would have been able to hear had it not been raining. Borrowing one of Xena’s extra shifts to hide her nakedness when she was clean, she disappeared into the bushes, leaving them alone.

But only for a moment, as Zeus materialized before them the moment she was out of sight.

He looked surprisingly concerned as he knelt to their level, took in Xena resting against Gabrielle instead of sitting on her own, took in the stitches and the dark bruise spreading across Gabrielle’s cheek. Took in the exhaustion and pain this mission had costed them.

When neither of them flinched away when he raised his hands, he gave them both an almost smile and touched them, Gabrielle on her cheek, Xena on her arm, his hands warm and friendly as he worked. Pulling away, looking at them with a critical eye, he nodded and stood. And Gabrielle noticed that her cheek, where Xena had struck her, wasn’t quite as sore as it had been, and Xena found she had a bit more strength, that the pain in her arm had turned more into an itch, and the world was quite a bit more steady then it had been a few minutes ago.  

“You’ve done us a great service, Xena, Gabrielle,” he acknowledged, glancing over to where the exit to the labyrinth had once been. “You’ve rid the world of a great evil, and for that, I am grateful.” He nodded his head- almost like a full bow, from anyone else- and looked around once again, his smile small. “I wasn’t sure if you would be able to do it,” he admitted, “but Ares was right. You two are quite impressive. For humans.”

He disappeared, the smell of rain and lightning becoming stronger in his absence as the girls both sat under the tree.

Pelopia returned to them in due time, her skin scrubbed almost raw and her hair a tangled mess, but she was clean and clothed, and had even found a bush covered in ripe berries, bringing as many as she could carry back with her to where they were sitting. To her surprise, Gabrielle had finally managed to get a fire started- small but hot, hot enough to cook the small birds Xena had managed to bring down. Both seemed well, much better than they had been before she had left, but she didn’t press the issue.

She herself had just been reborn from the Minotaur’s skin, so who was she to question what was normal and what wasn’t?

They ate mostly in silence, picking the flesh from around the small bones and sweetening their tongues with the berries, the juices turning their lips and the tips of their fingers blue. A simple meal, but perhaps one of the most delicious they had ever tasted.

They were alive to taste it, making it that much sweeter.

“How did you know it was me?”

Pelopia broke the silence first, her gaze fixed on Xena- curious, ever so curious, with a hint of demand in her voice that told she wouldn’t let this go, not until Xena had replied.

“Zeus said that he had made you part of the labyrinth,” Xena explained after a moment, flicking the bone she had just finished stripped into the fire. “He said that we were safe, so long as you were there. And while the legends can be a bit fuzzy,” she admitted, “there’s never any record of the original Minotaur having children.”

“He was a man-eater,” Gabrielle pipped up, a reflective look on her face as she took in everything Xena was saying, “who was only fed every seven years. He’d be starving…”

“Too starving to worry about breeding,” Xena finished for her, nodding. “While the chance of a Minotaur descendant isn’t impossible, it is unlikely. Plus,” she added, “you tried to protect us. You saved us many times.”

“So you put two and two together, and decided it was me,” Pelopia said, her smile wide. Shaking her head, she shifted so she was laying down in the grass, head propped up on her hand so she could continue to start at the two. “I’ve been gone for a long time,” she admitted after a moment’s silence. “How’s my brother?”

“He’s worried,” Gabrielle said, “but he was alive and doing well when we left.”

Perhaps the wrong words, because Pelopia’s face darkened at that, her stare turning from them into the darkness surrounding them. It had been clear earlier that she had wanted to leave, that she had come out of the labyrinth full of life and energy and had only stayed because of her exhausted companions. And now it was too late to safely climb down the mountain in the dark, especially with the rocks slick from the rain. Any moves would have to wait until morning, as distasteful as that might be.

“Your brother is strong,” Xena said reassuringly, her voice almost a promise. “He’s been keeping the kingdom in good condition for you to return.”

“He’d be a great king,” Pelopia said softy, “if he wanted the crown.” Turning back towards them, she gave them a small, almost sad smile and shrugged. “Guess it’s a good thing for me that he doesn’t. Otherwise we might have a civil war on our hands.” She laughed at that, as if the idea of her brother turning against her was hilarious. But she quickly sobered up at the next words that came from her. “Of course, there’s many nobles in our court who would love to see such, and would do anything to make sure a war like that came about…”

“We won’t let that happen,” Gabrielle said, looking at Xena and nodding. “We’ll stay until everything is settled. Right, Xena?”

Xena just nodded, but that was enough. Pelopia smiled widely at the two of them, her eyes almost shining, before she laid down her head, tucking it into the crook of her elbow. “Thank you,” she said, her eyes slipping closed.

Soon she was asleep.

“I’ll take first watch,” Xena said, glancing over at Gabrielle- it was clear she was also exhausted, barely able to keep her eyes open. “I’ll wake you if I need you.”

“Alright.”

Though, instead of laying down next to Pelopia, or pulling out their sleeping skins and making her normal nest, Gabrielle instead curled into Xena’s side, her head resting on her chest. Her arm wrapped around her waist, and soon enough Gabrielle was asleep as well, a blanket over Xena that kept her captive better than any chains ever could.

She felt guilty in taking comfort from the closeness, felt guilty as she turned her head to press a kiss against Gabrielle’s forehead, the reminder of the world the labyrinth had created for her close in the back of her mind. She had wanted to stay, had wanted to live in that world where she was free of her sins, where she had always been on the side of good, where Gabrielle was hers. And part of that world was still in her, still wanted to lay claim to the heart of the woman lying in her arms.

But after a moment Xena pushed away the guilt and just continued to hold Gabrielle, staring out into the night around them, the rain a gentle music she listened to in the dark.