#(however self centered that sounds. it makes me wince to say trust me.)

[headofhelios]

when i was a kid the idea of like surprise birthday parties was so like. idk i wanted it and it never happened but now its actually like. gonna happen to me but at a really really bad time when i am going to be very stressed and whatever the surprise thing is will probably make it worse so its like. hmm. early birthday gift of being nauseous with anxiety a month in advance

[chokemeanakin]

I dont know if you are taking requests but if you are, could you please write something where reader has trouble masturbating, every time she tries she just CANT, so anakin (theyre just friends but they always had lots of sexual tension) helps her out and does it for her so she cums for the first time. THANK YOU!!!

A Dream Come True - Anakin Skywalker x fem Reader (smut)

Masterlist

Read it on ao3

Wc: 5.4k

A low warmth is rising in your belly, pulled from the depths by your wandering fingers. They’re working against your clit, rubbing it side to side, faster and hard, trying so desperately to remain in that warm haze of pleasure you’ve spent so long building up. It feels good, but you need more. 

The many late nights spent with your girlfriends cross your mind, and how you would sit by idly during each one as they discussed their own personal affairs in the bedroom. You were the least experienced, but listened in awe as they told you the latest on what their partners have done to surprise them in bed. How they made them scream and shake, their eyes roll back into their head, and cum all over until they couldn’t take anymore.

You were too embarrassed to admit you’d never felt that way before. You thought you were broken.

Which is why you’re here, fingers glued to your hard nub, rubbing furiously to try and get yourself to feel something. You do feel something, but it’s not earth-shattering, leg-shaking, eye-rolling like your friends had described. Frustration fuels your movements as you attack your clit, holding your breath, forcing the warmth to build and build and build--

Nothing.

Your arm aches with the strain as you halt your movements, chest heaving when you allow yourself to breathe. Self-pity outweighs your disappointment as the subtle warmth dissipates, any pleasure that you had given yourself slipping away. 

Broken, a small voice whispers inside your head. There’s something wrong with you.

What other reasoning could there be to explain why you can’t feel good? 

Maybe, you argue, there needs to be something inside. That was always a big topic of discussion with your friends, how they “loved being filled.” Gathering your wits, you move your finger down, exploring your folds until you find your opening. Squeezing your eyes shut, you push a finger in, wincing at the sudden intrusion. 

It stings more than anything, but you’re desperate so you decide to give it a chance. You’ve tried this before, and it’s never felt like anything more than a finger inside of you-- which is exactly what it is. And now, this situation proves to be the same. You feel around, hoping to find that spot everyone raves about, but your fingers are too short and the angle is weird. You push your finger in and out like how you think you’re supposed to, and it feels like nothing.

Maybe you need two?

You let another finger join the one that’s already inside, struggling to get it in. 

Ow, you wince as your body rejects the intrusion. Your heartbeat picks up, a sudden anxiety joining the whirlwind of exasperation and discontent that has come from this situation. Is it supposed to hurt this much? The remnants of the need to satisfy yourself are still present, so you try again.

Making it back to your apartment had been a relief this evening, as all day you had been battling a relentless urge down below. You’re not too proud to admit that your… situation… had been a direct result of spending the day with Anakin, a good friend of yours who needed help finding a data entry in the corner of the Temple library. The entry supposedly had something to do with a cloaking mechanism for battleships, and when you had asked why he needed it when the Republic already had cloaking mechanisms, he mentioned that he was trying to translate the same technique to his own personal starship. No battlecraft as small as his has that ability, and with a ship as fast as his, it would give him a huge advantage on the battlefield. 

You could listen to him talk about it all day.

You virtually had, as the data entry was just one small piece of paper-- a piece of scrap blueprint scrawled on a fragile, worried edge of some larger text, worn with time. You spent hours searching all over for it. Once you had finally dug it out of a dusty box in the deepest corner of the library, Anakin had lifted you into the air effortlessly, swinging you around as he hugged you and laughed.

You had walked home with a damp spot in your underwear, an undeniable throb that needed to be relieved. 

He had no idea. No idea that his hands shot sparks up your spine as they closed around your waist. That his laugh turned your blood to lava, and his beautiful, smiling face made your heart skip a beat. He had no idea that he is the cause of your desperation, the reason you are torturing yourself by dangling an unknown pleasure before your face, knowing you can’t have it. 

You manage to sink your second finger in a little, but the sting is too much, and you have to pull them both out.

Broken.

The door to your apartment suddenly swings open, and you throw your sheets over your bare legs in a panic. Your eyes find the clock next to your bed-- Shit. You’d lost track of the time. 

The sound of those boots are unmistakable, and you find that praying you’re wrong is pointless when he calls out your name. 

“Y/n--?” Anakin rounds the corner to peer into your room, features lighting up when he finally finds you. Curious eyes roam over your figure, wondering why you’re in bed when it was barely evening. “Are you feeling okay?”

Your cheeks flame with heat, and you can’t find the words to explain yourself out of this situation. Mentally, you’re beating yourself up for losing track of time, especially since you knew Anakin was coming over tonight. While searching for the data log, you mentioned you had always wanted to try his favorite childhood drink-- ruby bliels-- and he promised he’d treat you tonight after you found the blueprint. It was his thank you gift to you, but now you needed to find a way to get him out of your apartment before he realized what was going on.

Your mouth hangs open like a gaping fish, and you know it’s too late. Anakin’s brain is as fast as his superhuman reflexes, and you can see the gears click into place as his eyes flit from your red cheeks, to the messy covers strewn over your legs, to the crumpled panties lying discarded on the floor. Your hand is even still frozen between your legs, your activities becoming clear as he senses the remnants of pleasure and disappointment still hanging around the room. 

“Oh…” is all he says, looking lost for a moment. You expect him to apologize and turn away, run out of the apartment and then never speak to you again. You wouldn’t blame him. Finding a friend in this position can never be a comfortable experience.

Instead a slow smirk crawls onto his face, and he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You need some help with that?”

You should have known. The smug little bastard-- of course he’d find this amusing. Your face grows impossibly redder, and you wish a black hole would just open beneath you already and swallow you up. Anakin finds your humiliation endearing, and laughs good-naturedly. 

“Alright, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll leave you to it,” he slinks out of the doorway, crooking his finger in the air to close the door after him. “I’ll be in the kitchen setting up for the bliels when you’re done--”

“Wait!”

You’re just as shocked as he is at the words that leave your mouth. He freezes in place, the door still open a crack. There’s too many thoughts running through your head right now, but the one that stands out the most has you pulling your hand away from your center, sitting up in bed so you can address him clearly. 

You never thought you’d be able to speak these words to him. For so long, you had wanted him in every way possible. But he’s a Jedi, unable to form attachments, and more than that-- a friend. A very good friend. And breaching the topic that you know you both feel for each other had the potential to ruin it all. 

But the minute he had opened that door, still dressed in that black leather armor, hair perfectly curled and messy, so tall and strong and devilishly handsome leaning against your doorframe-- he was beautiful, and you’d be a fool not to take advantage of his offering. Even if it might have been a joke. 

You had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t. 

“I… I do need help.”

There. You said it. And you’re pretty certain the only reason you could force the words past your lips is because his back is still facing you. But then he opens the door again, turns to meet your eyes, and cocks his head.

“Really?”

You’re not sure how to feel about the concern on his face. You guess it’s better than him being disgusted, or awkward, or uncomfortable. And it’s not an outright rejection. That realization gives you the push you need to explain yourself.

“I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Now he looks concerned. Walking a few steps into the room, he stops by the edge of your bed and folds his arms across his chest. He’s studying every inch of you, reaching into the force to try and gauge the nature of your words. “What do you mean?”

He’s standing so close now, you can see the blue of his eyes and the wrinkle between his furrowed brows. It does nothing to calm your sizzling nerves. However, you’re concrete on your desires now. While you would have liked to confess your feelings for him in a more… romantic way, the intensity of your need for him in this very moment overshadows rational thought. Besides, it’s not like this is a declaration of love. That could always come later. For right now, you need his help, and you’re certain that you can trust him not to make fun of you or shame you for trying in if he declines.

“I can’t…” you take a deep breath, staring at your hands in your lap. “I can’t make myself feel good.”

Your voice is so quiet, embarrassed and ashamed, but he catches the yearning under it all. His face smooths, comforted by the fact that you’re not injured or dying in some way. Deep down, something sparks alive in his veins. 

That’s the issue? Well… it’s definitely something he can help you with.

“Hmm.” His face is thoughtful as he scans your position. His hand gestures vaguely down your body. “Do you want to show me what you’re doing?”

Your blood freezes at his request. For some reason, it didn’t cross your mind how asking for his help would require him to see you… naked. 

“If you’re too embarrassed, we can just--”

You cut off his words by throwing the blanket off. There, like ripping off a bandaid. His eyes drink in the exposed skin of your legs, and although they’re closed and he can’t be seeing much more than he’s already seen before, they darken. A small twitch of his fingers, and the door clicks shut behind him. 

He takes a seat on the side of the bed, next to your legs, and rests his metal hand on your knee. Your heart beats like a hummingbird's wings at the sudden proximity, and the nerves pile up again at the thought of what’s going to happen.

“Wait-- um… actually, can you come here?” 

You reach out to take his metal hand from your knee, and pull him up the bed so that he’s hovering over you. He’s still sitting, the upper half of his body twisted toward you, caging you in with a hand on either side of you. He’s smiling softly, and his eyes twinkle with something fond.

He doesn’t need to ask to know that you’re nervous. The rigidity in your muscles, the flightyness of your eyes, the hammer of your heart-- he can feel it all, and he wants nothing more than to quell your fears. So he lifts an arm to cup your face in his large hand, smoothing a thumb over your cheekbone in a silent request for you to look at him.

Once you muster up the courage to meet his eyes, his smile grows, and he says something that steals your breath.

“Can I kiss you?”

Oh, how long you’ve wanted him to say those words to you. Countless nights, you’d run them through your head, imagining all the scenarios in which it could happen. Certainly, this was not one of them, but you definitely aren’t going to complain.

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you give him a nod, and lean forward a fraction in invitation. Your veins sing with anticipation, warmth spreading from your cheeks to every small nook and cranny of your body as he angles your face up toward his. Your eyes flutter close, and he leans down, and--

Bliss.

His lips are warm against yours, soft, applying the gentlest of pressures. You always thought he’d be a good kisser-- he was experienced, and he’d hinted at some of his more scandalous escapades a couple times in passing conversation. You’d asked him before, how he could do that when Jedi aren’t allowed to form attachments, which resulted in him going into a full lecture on how non-attachment didn’t translate to abstinence being “The Jedi Way”, even if it was supported within the Order. Really, it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anything, until he fell on the defensive position that he was almost certain Obi-Wan had done stuff as well.

Which-- great. Now you realized you were less experienced than even two Jedi. 

These thoughts are snuffed out like candles, one by one, as Anakin kisses you. In fact, your whole mind goes blank, a wave washing over all of your worries away and dragging them out to sea. You’re drifting on that wave, drowning in the heady feel of him, the warm taste of him. His slow inhale reminds you to breathe as he moves his lips against yours languidly. It’s heaven, the way he’s yours for just this moment. He might not think anything of this kiss, but to you, it’s like your deepest fantasies are coming true. With each moment that passes where he tilts his head and closes his lips over yours, you can pretend that he is yours, completely and unconditionally.

Eventually he pulls back, eyes fluttering open, and you realize you’re still lost at sea.  

“Good?” his voice is low and raspy as his gaze bores into yours. You wonder if he knows how intense his eyes can be sometimes. 

“Yes.”

He presses another quick kiss to your lips, your heart spasming at the act, before he trails kisses down your jaw, tasting the skin of your neck. Your breath picks up again, hands finding his curls as you gasp at the feeling. His teeth skim over the junction of your neck and shoulder, and he presses a kiss to your throbbing pulse. He means for the kisses to be distracting, soothing, so that you’ll be more comfortable with him, and he thinks it’s working until a faint moan leaves your mouth.

So it’s really working.

Anakin’s eyes flick up to yours, and you can feel the smirk against your skin. Embarrassment crashes down on you again but Anakin repeats the motion, nipping at your skin and then smoothing his tongue over the mark, sucking gently to try to elicit another reaction. You gift him one against your will, and suddenly he’s got lava pouring into his veins.

You’re so lost in the feeling of his mouth on you that you don’t even realize his warm hand has travelled from your face, down the middle of your body, gripping onto the pliant flesh of your thigh and pulling you toward him. You let him, rolling your body into him to try and relieve that reappearing ache in your center. 

It’s the same feeling that had built up all day, and it’s returned with a vengeance. You can feel the wetness seep out, slicking your thighs up. Your clit throbs and your pussy clenches around nothing, begging for something to satisfy the ache. You rub your thighs together to help, but Anakin slides a hand to the inside of your thigh and coaxes your legs apart. Any embarrassment you felt before has been beat out by a yearning for his touch, the need to have his fingers on you, inside you--

“Show me how you’ve been doing it,” Anakin mumbles into your neck.

You open your eyes, pulled up from the haze of pleasure he’d submerged you in. Your hand only shakes slightly as you release his hair and bring it back to your skin. He pulls back a few inches to watch, the heat of his body so close to yours causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. 

His eyes hone in on your hand, following its descent to your warm center. You still can’t wrap your head around the fact that someone is seeing you like this, but now your veins sing with a satisfied realization that he’s the one seeing you like this. He’s the only one who ever has. And he seems to like what he’s seeing.

You don’t miss the way he inhales, the way his teeth capture a sliver of his bottom lip as your fingers finally reach your heat. You begin to do what you’ve always done-- rub your fingers back and forth over your nub, working that pleasure from it.

It feels good, different than what it felt like when you were alone. You’re sure his eyes on you, the proximity, his mere presence has something to do with that. You can still taste him on your lips and you close your eyes, licking them to relive the kiss. You focus on the warmth of his body, the dip of the bed where his arm is planted beside you, the weight of his other hand still holding your thigh open, the scent of his black leather and spice of his shampoo. It definitely feels better when he’s here, the knowledge of him watching adding to your excitement.

But still, you can only build yourself up to a certain point. The pleasure plateaus, and soon you begin to feel awkward at the fact that nothing is happening. It’s not enough to make you moan, or move, or show any reaction really. Your hand stills, and you look at him uncertainly.

Anakin blinks and brings his eyes back up. “Have you tried fingering yourself?”

You almost choke. You’re not sure why his blunt nature surprises you anymore. 

He’s looking at you curiously, completely serious, waiting for an answer. So you clear your throat and slide your finger down to your entrance, pushing in.

It goes in easier than before, and there’s no sting. But you don’t even have to move to know you’re literally going to get nothing out of it, and trying is useless.

“This is what I’m talking about,” you tell him. “It doesn’t feel like anything. And when I try two, it hurts. I think I’m broken.”

“You’re not broken,” he frowns, smoothing your hair away from your forehead and replacing it with a kiss. Your heart melts at the action that you’re sure is meant to be comforting, but only deepens your adoration of him. He sits up and you immediately miss him, although you understand he needs a better angle as he slides his hand from your thigh to the top of your pelvis. He hesitates, questioning. “Can I?”

You pull your finger out and push yourself up onto your forearms, nodding for him to go ahead. 

His touch is light as a feather as his fingertips make contact with your swollen nub. Your breath hitches in your chest, thighs immediately opening wider on their own accord to get him to increase the pressure. He watches your face as he fulfills your silent request, massaging your clit in slow, gentle circles. 

Fireworks are exploding behind your eyes, and you melt into a puddle on the bed. He’s barely even touching you, and somehow it already feels so much better than anything you’ve done to yourself. Quiet whimpers fall from your lips and the sounds make him need a steadying breath, reminding himself to go slow. Obviously, no one has ever touched you before, and he doesn’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.

The sight of your head tilted back, teeth biting at your lips to quiet your sounds, fingers clutching at the bedsheets-- a very sudden, very real desire to absolutely ruin you slams into him. 

But no. That can come later.

He brings his metal hand up to your face, thumb tracing over your bottom lip and pulling it from your teeth. “You don’t have to be quiet with me,” he tells you, the ministrations on your clit with his other hand never ceasing. Instead, he picks up the pace, increasing the pressure, drinking in the sight of your hips moving against his fingers.

You’re absolutely drenched, dripping down your thighs and puddling onto the bedsheets. You’re not sure you’ve ever been this wet before, or felt this good before, and the warmth you’ve always felt is transforming into a ball of heat in your stomach. You hone into the feeling, the heat pulsing with each pass of his fingers, each wet slide of him against you--

“You have to breathe, Y/n,” Anakin chuckles, slowing his touch. You gasp in a deep breath, whining at the loss of friction, but he appeases you by slipping his fingers from your clit to your entrance. He doesn’t push in-- instead he circles his finger around it, collecting your slick, reading your every response. 

“Please, can you…” you buck your hips up, but he doesn’t allow his finger to slide in until you finish your sentence. “Can you put it in?”

He can’t keep the tiny, darkly satisfied smile off his face. He’s always had fantasies of you like this, squirming beneath him and begging for his touch. He basks in the fulfilled wish of his, drinking in every second so he can remember it for later. Meanwhile, his finger massages your hole, dipping in with just the tip before pulling back out. 

“Fuck,” you hiss, once again surprised at your own reaction. Your head is far past the point of clouding with lust, and now you’re dizzy with pleasure and the need to just have him inside of you already. “Anakin, please.”

“Patience,” he answers teasingly, although he does mean it. You can’t rush these things. And… he does have to admit that he loves seeing you so desperate and messy for him. Your neediness has him strain against his own pants, but he pushes that aside. For now, another dip of his finger into your throbbing pussy has you arch off the bed, urging him deeper, and it’s heaven to witness.

He didn’t want to go all in just yet, but you’re gushing around his finger and taking it so well. So he lets you have it, sinking his finger all the way into you. You feel him go deeper and deeper, the never-ending length of his finger a stark contrast to your shorter ones. He’s reaching places you were never able to, and even the slide of him inside you elicits a deep, warm pleasure that spreads to the tips of your fingers.

He keeps his finger all the way inside for a moment, still as he feels your walls clench around him. Once he’s sure you’re all good, he begins pressing into you with shallow thrusts, thumb returning to your clit and rubbing in time with each push of his finger.

Curses spill from your lips, and Anakin can’t help himself. He leans down over you and captures them in his mouth, swallowing your cries of pleasure. The kiss is wet, dirty, and the muffled sounds of your moans combat the indecent slick and slide below. Soon, another finger is nudging at your opening, and you press yourself deeper into his lips in anticipation of that painful sting.

It doesn’t come.

Instead, his finger slides in a couple inches and he keeps both of them there, letting you adjust as his thumb rolls over your clit. You had never been able to use two fingers before, and your head goes fuzzy as he pushes them deeper. Your walls stretch around him pleasantly, accepting the welcome intrusion as he reaches deep inside you.

How is it fair that he can make you feel so much better than you can make yourself? It doesn’t seem right in the whole grand scheme of things, but you decide not to question it as his fingers suddenly curl inside you, searching. It feels odd, and he pulls back from your lips to concentrate for a second until-- there. Found it.

You almost knock your head into his as you shoot up, a startled cry leaving your lips as your vision whites with pleasure. Your fingers claw at his back, meeting the leather that still sits on his shoulders, and scrabbling over the smooth material for purchase. Anakin laughs at your reaction, easing you into a more comfortable position as he holds you against him with his metal arm behind your back.

You can’t find it in you to care that he’s laughing, not as long as he keeps rolling the pads of his fingers into you like this. His wrist curls, applying a harder pressure as he rubs against that spot, and your head falls back, hips pushing forward, the lewdest sounds you’ve ever heard leaving your mouth. 

“You like that,” he notes, proud smile ghosting over your lips. He kisses the corner of your mouth quick and sweet, then asks, “Is it better when I go slow or fast?”

“Both,” you gasp. “Either. All of it. Oh my--”

“Soft or hard?”

“Anakin--”

Your brain is unable to focus on much else other than the feel of his fingers coaxing that blissful heat from your center. He plays around with paces and pressures, but everything feels good, it feels great, it feels amazing, it feels euphoric. Before long, your legs are shaking and a weird feeling comes over you, and you’re crying out,

“What’s happening?”

Anakin pauses, his entire body stilling as he meets your eyes. You’re completely serious, that much he can tell by the vulnerability in your eyes. He frowns, unbelieving at this revelation.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Have you ever had an orgasm?”

You whine and shift your hips into his hand, trying to get him to keep making you feel good. If this wasn’t your first time being with someone else, Anakin would have held your hip still and forced you to talk to him no matter how much you begged and pleaded. But, it was your first time with someone else, so he was deciding to be nice. He soothes your craving, resuming his movements but at a much slower pace. A pleased sigh from you fills the silence of him waiting expectantly for your answer.

“Um..” you swallow, hips meeting his hand with every thrust. “I don’t think so. No. Nothing’s ever felt… like… this…”

It’s like a sneeze, except much, much better. The way his fingers prod into you, slick with your arousal, the tips brushing and massaging against that spot that have you careening into his body. You would have toppled over on top of him if he wasn’t so strong and rooted to the bed. He holds your shivering body against his chest with his metal arm, lips marking their way around your chin and jaw as your head falls back in ecstasy. 

He’s immensely turned on, that much is obvious from the painful straining in his pants. But it’s easy to ignore, knowing now that you’ve never fallen off that brink of pleasure before. He’s curious about it, oddly saddened by the fact, and wants nothing more than to show you the absolute highs he could help you reach. So he focuses back in on rubbing your clit with his thumb, fucking you deeply on his fingers. He allows you to clutch at his back and bury your hands in his hair, moaning in abandon.

Anakin shares you pleasure as the ball in your stomach unleashes, a blissful warmth crashing over you and invading your every cell. For a moment, your body isn’t yours-- it convulses and clenches around Anakin’s fingers, your cries bounce off the walls, your eyes squeeze closed. You hope the hands twisted into his hair don’t hurt him because you physically can’t let go as you ride that pleasure-filled haze, the feeling in your limbs abandoning you to be replaced with something much stronger. 

For a while, the only sounds in the room are your gasps of air and the blood rushing through your ears. Anakin waits until your muscles relax, and then he slides his fingers out of you, smoothing his hand around your waist to join his other behind your back. He lays you down into the pillows again, burying his face in your neck as you struggle to get your legs to stop shaking.

“Y/n,” he mouths a line up your neck. “You there?”

“Mhm,” you gulp, the shock of that intense, pleasurable feeling just beginning to fade.

He pressed his deep chuckle into the spot right under your ear. “Good. I thought I lost you for a moment.”

If you were in your right state of mind, you would have laughed at his teasing. Now, all you can do is cup his face lazily in your boneless hands, pulling his face up so that you can look at him. His cheeks are flushed the slightest pink, eyes dark and sparkling, lips so red and full and inviting…

You kiss him, and he’s yours for a moment longer. 

If only it could always be like this. If only this could be a daily experience, and afterwards you could take care of him, and you could feel that wonderful euphoria with him at the same time. If only he wouldn’t have to pull away soon, untangle himself from your still-shaking limbs, brush off what just happened, and be on his way. If only he could be yours forever.

All of this, you try to tell him through the kiss. Your lips are hot, sliding over with a wanton need. He feels your yearning, and he can tell it’s a different kind than earlier. You move to deepen the kiss, but he pulls away.

“I know what you’re thinking,” his low voice murmurs, and now he doesn’t look so playful. In fact, he looks very serious, and the rumble of his words causes your stomach to drop. “You should know, Y/n, I want you too.”

The whole room could be on fire and burning and falling to ash around you, but you wouldn’t notice. Everything pales in comparison to the flames that erupt in your heart at the sound of his words. 

“You do?”

He purses his lips, running his eyes up and down your face. You’re nervous, and hopeful, and so, so scared. And also… still shivering. Most likely due to the cold, at this point. And he’s sure the drunken affects of your orgasm are still holding sway over your mind.

“This is a conversation I think would be much better held over some ruby bliels,” he decides, and begins to unwind himself from you. You let him, that hopeful spark still searing through your veins. Before getting off the bed, he presses a kiss into your hand and then smooths over it with his thumb.

You want to say something cute or witty, but the only thing your dumb brain can come up with is, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he smiles fondly, moving toward the door. “I’ll meet you out there. Feel free to remain pantsless.”

This has you rolling your eyes, laughing lightly as you fall back against the pillows. Don’t tempt me.

The prospect of a future with Anakin is at the forefront of your brain, blood pumping thick as molasses as you struggle to convince yourself this is reality. He shuts the door behind him as you leave, and you roll onto your stomach to scream into the pillow. 

This was a dream come true.

[buttercup-of-kaer-morhen]

(@sophiakuso1​ gave me the prompt for a modern College AU drabble with Jaskier being at least part dragon and it got completely out of hand so here it is.)

Warning: Minor Injury

Primary tags: Magical College AU, Dragon!Jaskier, Injured!Geralt, Hurt/Comfort with a happy ending, Slight Jaskier Whump?, super fluff, Eskel is here and Lambert is an ass

————————- 

Jaskier swept through the doors of the campus medical center, making a beeline towards the emergency wing. He was determined to get to his destination and no one would get in his way if they had even a shred of self preservation. He had completely forgotten to put his guitar down when he ran out of his dorm room so a few nurses gave him the side eye as he passed but thankfully the place was rather quiet this late at night and no one tried to stop him. This also meant there were not that many people around to witness him stalking down the halls looking rather disheveled. He had been lounging on his bed with only his tight jeans which were more hole then pant in the front, his knees and almost all his thighs on display, when the text came in. He then proceeded to grab the first shirt available, a large button up of his boyfriend’s, which he barely buttoned up before, was out the door while wielding his guitar by the neck. He supposed he was just so used to taking it everywhere that he absentmindedly brought it. He had also forgotten his shoes in his haste and was too worried to waste time going back. At least his dorm was close and it wasn’t winter, so being barefoot wasn’t that bad. 

Now, normally, he would try to keep up his friendly harmless appearance but his worry and urgency had him on edge and he didn’t really feel like sending a polite little comment to everyone he passed this time. In the back of his mind, a small voice told him that Yenyen would be proud.When he finally reached the waiting room, Lambert and Eskel were sitting in plastic chairs looking uncomfortable. Both of their gazes flickered to him as he marched over and, from the way Eskel winced, he must have been making a rather severe face. “Well?! What happened!” He demanded, fuming mad that Geralt was now in the emergency room after his two brothers had insisted he come along to a low key event. They had assured him it was going to be nothing more than a small get together at the frat house since Geralt wasn’t one for larger parties.

“Whoa, ok Jask, just calm down a bit… Are you growling? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you growl before…” Eskel immediately tried to sooth him.

Yes, it seemed he was growling, but his boyfriend Geralt, his dorm mate and love of his life whom he just started dating only a few months ago, was in the hospital! So Yes, he was allowed to growl!

“It’s not that bad, I swear!” Eskel tried again, glancing nervously over to the woman behind the help desk to didn’t bat an eyelash at them. She either hadn’t noticed the commotion or she just didn’t care.

“Not that bad-- Not that bad?!” Jaskier shrieked incredulously before digging in his pocket for his phone with his free hand before tapping furiously away on the screen. “A-hem, Lambert at 12:31 in the morning: Geralt rushed to the emergency room. Come now with, like, a gazillion exclamation points!” He promptly pushed the phone into Eskel’s hands so he could look at the evidence before continuing on his tirade. “I sent back like thirty messages which no one replied to! So I think I have a right to be a little upset and worried!” He did however try to breathe deeply to calm himself once he was finished venting, the feeling of tears pricked at his eye and tickled the back of his throat. 

Eskel, to his credit, gave Lambert a questioning look which screamed ‘really?’ and sighed in sympathy. “Lambert…” He paused to inhale deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What- What the fuck?”

“You told me to text him. I texted him!” Lambert shrugged defensively, his tone flippant but confused.

“I told you to let him know what was going on! Not send him into a fucking fit! I, Fucking… Why did I expect anything different...” With a shake of the head, Eskel turned to Jaskier once more. “It’s really just a minor injury and he’s fine. Something just fell and popped his shoulder out of his socket slightly is all and I didn’t want to fuck with it so we decided to get it checked.” He tried to reassure the shorter man.

“Pfffft, I don’t see what the big deal is, at least he’s here now and we can leave Geralt to him.” Lambert huffed under his breath. His gaze finally fully took in the musician’s state of dress  however and a grin slowly plastered itself across his face. “But I gotta say, if he’s going to look this fucking rediculous every time I text him that Geralt’s in trouble, I might do it more often. And look, he’s ready to entertain at a party.” He joked lightly, the shit eating grin never leaving his face. Oh, and the anger was back.

Normally, Jaskier would snap something back in playful banter but he really was not in the mood at this hour of the night. He grabbed the larger man by the shirt and lifted him off his feet by the collar. “I swear, Lambert, I will burn you to a crisp if you worry me like that again for no reason.” He growled in warning, letting a small puff of fire out to emphasise his threat. 

“... Well shit. Sometimes I forget you’re part dragon…” Lambert laughed warily, his eyes wide with surprise.

Eskel put a tentative hand on the smaller student’s shoulder and Jaskier slowly lowered Lambert back down after taking a deep breath. “Hey, why don’t you go stay with Geralt until they release him while we go deal with the aftermath of the party. They only want to keep him until some of the side effects wear off ‘cause he reacted oddly to what they used to knock him out. It left him a little, uh, weird. He’s completely fine, really.” Eskel insisted softly, understanding how upsetting the situation must have been. He was glad his brother had someone who cared so deeply about his well being. With a pat to Jaskier’s shoulder, the scarred brunette steered Lambert out of the place, cuffing him upside the head lightly for being an asshole. “Oh, and his room is 109.” He called just before they exited.

The musician sighed before sweeping a hand through his hair, trying to tamp the last of his nerves down before heading off to find his dear wolf. A soft beeping is what greeted him once he reached the small dimly lit room and stepped in. And then a low whistle followed after his entrance which had him smirking and huffing a laugh. “Wow… You don’t look like a nurse.” Geralt’s confused but curious voice filled the space as he openly eyed Jaskier up and down.

Jaskier raised an eyebrow, wondering what his boyfriend was getting at. “You would be correct, I’m not a nurse nor do I think I would be any good at the profession.” He couldn’t keep the amusement from his voice or the soft smile from spreading across his lips as relief flooded him. Geralt seemed fine for the most part, other than the sling cradling his arm.

A hum followed before he opened his mouth to speak again. “So, do you go into random hospital rooms to magically serenade them better?” He asked, smirking and nodding toward the guitar that Jaskier kept forgetting was still in hand. 

Alright, he did seem oddly talkative, which wasn’t bad in any way just odd, but Jaskier was just happy he was in one piece so he indulged him. “No, but I do perform at a bar quite a lot.” He announced proudly as he walked over to take a seat at the side of the bed and set his instrument down. 

“Hmm… So, talented and beautiful.” Geralt nodded to himself, his voice sounding so confident that it had Jaskier blushing and tongue tied. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

Ah! So that was what Eskel meant by weird.The question made Jaskier snort but he reached a hand out and put it atop one of Geralt’s, patting it. “Sadly yes. I am currently dating someone.” He nodded solemnly, deciding that this was too cute not to prolong.

Geralt’s hand turned over and gently but firmly held Jaskier’s hand. He met the musician’s gaze with a very serious expression that left no room for joking. “Have they proposed yet?” 

Jaskier stamped down a fit of giggles and gave a solemn sigh. “Not as of yet.” He fluttered his eyelashes as he looked down at their hands in overly dramatic dejection. 

“Tsk! Fucking idiot.” Geralt grumbled before tugging Jaskier’s hand to get him to look up at him. “If I proposed right now, would you leave that idiot for me?” He asked in complete earnestness.

Jaskier had to raise a hand and placed it on his lips to hide the amused smile as he desperately held back giggles. He didn’t trust himself to speak so he shook his head lightly in response.

“Yah. I thought so. You look too nice to do such a thing. Your boyfriend may be an idiot but he’s lucky to have you.” The disappointment that openly showed on Geralt’s face had him finally take pity on his lover. 

“Darling, I can’t leave my lovely boyfriend because he’s laying right here and I am oh so terribly fond of him. I can think of no one I would rather be with.” He spoke honestly, flashing his wolf a shy smile which drew a happy gasp from the other.

The next minute, he found himself pulled into Geralt’s lap as the man looked at him as if he hung the moon. “I must be the luckiest fucking idiot in the world.” He sighed happily as he hugged Jaskier and buried his face in his neck so Geralt could kiss anywhere he could reach. “I have the hottest, sweetest wife in the world-- or wait, do you prefer husband? Shit! I haven’t gotten you a ring or asked yet…” The man looked up at him in slight panic. 

Jaskier laughed openly now, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he gently took Geralt’s face in his hands and kissed the ridiculous man. “Oh dear heart… I’m never letting you forget this…” He giggled as he was pulled down more so they could cuddle. He thanked Melitele for keeping his love safe as the two showered one another with soft kisses and whispered ‘I love yous’.

[creampuffqueen]

Team Bonding

Word Count: 2,328

Requested by the lovely @ruby-tucker, a fic where Nova and Oscar are friends and go to the mall and eat Dairy Queen together. You ask, I deliver.

I’m not super happy with the ending of this, but I like the rest, so I think that’s good I guess. Hope y’all enjoy!

~~~~

“Nova Artino!” Nova’s wristband buzzed as Oscar’s voice sounded from it, urgent and harrying. 

“What do you want? I’m working.” Nova said back. She was busy at her worktable, taking things apart and combining them back together. She hadn’t stopped working for two days.

“I’m coming to get you. I have a surprise.”

“I can’t.” She said. “I’m getting close with this-”

“Chill out, Nova. I’m taking you on a team bonding experience.” Oscar chuckled. Oh no.

“Team bonding?” Nova yelped. “Where? And why?”

“I’m coming to get you, and you’ll find out.” He laughed. “You don’t even have to dress up. You can wear sweatpants and a hoodie, I don’t care.”

He hung up, and Nova groaned. She was reluctant to leave her project, but after taking a moment to actually look at herself-

She needed a shower. And some fresh clothes. Adrian was right, she did have a tendency to forget about herself when she was working.

Nova didn’t wash her hair, since she didn’t know how close Oscar was, and didn’t want to go wherever he was taking her and the team with wet hair. Instead she tied her dark locks into a high ponytail and donned a fresh hoodie and leggings.

Ding. The doorbell rang through the small apartment, and Nova went to answer it.

“Hello, Miss Artino.” Oscar made a dramatic bowing gesture on her doorstep, cane in hand. “Will you do me the pleasure of joining me in my quest for Dairy Queen?”

“Your quest for what now?” Nova snorted. She stepped out, wincing at the sunlight. 

“Oh my stars. Guys, she’s never had Dairy Queen!” Oscar shouted over down the stairs. Nova rolled her eyes at him, but let Oscar lead her back down to the street.

Everyone was there. Adrian, Ruby, Danna, and even Narcissa. While the redhead wasn’t really a Renegade, she was essentially part of the team. Nova liked her, she was the kind of person who one could sit in silence with and feel comfortable.

“How have we all let Oscar drag us out here?” She asked. “It’s like, what, nine in the morning?”

“Babe, it’s literally one o’clock.” Adrian chuckled. 

“Oh. Yeah.” Nova sighed. She’d completely lost track of time again.

“Anyway,” Oscar continued, “We’re all going to the mall, and we’re going to have lots of fun. And after we have lots of fun, we are going to eat ice cream until we can’t walk anymore.”

“I can’t believe you dragged me away from my work for this.”

“It’ll be fun.” Oscar assured her. “Trust me.”

So Nova let him drag her along behind him as he walked, her wrist in one hand and his cane in the other. Ruby walked close by, laughing at his dumb jokes.

“Nova, have you ever been to the mall before?” Danna asked as they arrived in the massive parking lot. 

“No. I lived in an abandoned subway tunnel for over half my life. I wasn’t allowed to go to the mall.”

“So I hate to be that person,” Oscar said with a wince, “But can you try to lighten up? Just a bit? A little? Like, a tablespoon lighter?”

Nova snorted. “Absolutely not.” Oscar made a pouty face, and Nova nudged his shoulder. “Kidding.”

“Great! Let’s go inside.” Oscar let go of Nova so he could take Ruby’s hand, leaving Nova with Adrian, Danna, and Narcissa. 

Her boyfriend offered his hand, which Nova gladly took. As they approached the building, her blue eyes widened. 

“Woah.”

She followed the others inside, looking around incredulously. The inside seemed even bigger, if that was possible. Stores were packed close together, little booths in the massive walkways between them. Advertisements were everywhere, faces of the Renegades on seemingly every surface.

“Adrian, is it weird to see your dads’ faces on literally everything?” She asked.

“I mean, yeah. Kinda.” He shrugged. “You get used to it, though.” They followed Oscar and Ruby through the thickening crowds, almost having to run to catch up.

“This place is insane.” Nova gasped. “I don’t even know what to say.” 

“I am pretty good at rendering girls speechless.” Oscar smirked. Both Nova and Ruby rolled their eyes, Nova even going as far as to punch him softly. 

“Can we please stop in the Barnes & Noble?” Naricssa begged. 

“Why not.” Oscar agreed. “We’ve got all day.”

They followed the redhead into the nearby bookstore, and Nova watched as she grabbed what seemed like one of every book in the store. She skimmed some of the titles, but nothing interested her.

She did stop, however, when she found the magazines. 

“Guys, look at this.” They all glanced over to what she was pointing at.

A picture of their team was on the cover of a magazine. Nova remembered when they’d done this, only because Simon and Hugh had practically begged them. Most of the pictures had turned out bad, but apparently not all, since they were currently the advertising for a magazine she’d never heard of.

“Wow. I look like shit.” Danna snorted. “Why did you guys let me out of the house that day?”

“No, you look pretty.” Narcissa said earnestly. 

“Well, I know who looks pretty good in this.” Oscar grinned. He puffed out his chest, and Nova waited for the self-centered comment, but instead,

“Ruby. You look smoking, babe.” Ruby laughed and blushed, giving her boyfriend a gentle kiss on the cheek. 

“I’m gonna buy it.” Nova said with a devilish grin.

“Nooooooo.” Everyone groaned. Nova just flounced off to the register, magazine in hand.

She bought it, and ten minutes later completely regretted her decision. Why had she wasted her money on a stupid magazine she wasn’t even going to read when there was a literal carousel in the mall.

“Nova, have you ever ridden a carousel before?” Oscar asked.

“Yeah, they had one in the park for a Christmas festival one year.” She replied. “This one is way bigger.”

“C’mon,” He laughed, “This one is great.”

“I don’t have any money.” She sighed. “I spent it on the magazine.”

Her friend handed her a dollar, and Nova made to give it back, but he pushed her hand away. “It’s a dollar, Nova.”

So she let him push her towards the register, and she let him nearly shove her hand at the cashier to take the money and give her the carousel token. And after, she let Oscar drag her to the gate.

“Isn’t this kinda childish.” Nova asked, squirming uncomfortably. The only people on the thing were kids, or parents with young children. Not a teenager in sight.

“What does it matter?” Oscar laughed. He squeezed Ruby’s hand. “If they judge us, so what?”

The animal seats were moving up and down as cheery music blared, and Adrian took her hand. “What animal do you want?” He asked her with a smile.

Nova had to let it pass a few times before she decided. “I want the giraffe.”

“To make up for her height.” Oscar called over his shoulder. 

“Rude!” Nova said back, though there were no bite to her words. Instead, she started laughing.

The carousel stopped a minute later, and the kids clambered off. Leaving the team, plus the large amount of new children that had gathered behind them to go on.

Nova put her token in the gate, and it swung open. She followed Oscar as he and Ruby ran, hand in hand, to their chosen animals. She got to the giraffe and pulled herself up, finding herself next to Naricssa on the elephant next to her. Danna had a wolf, and Adrian had gone with the typical pony. 

When the ride started, Nova was nearly thrown off as it lurched forward. She clung to the metal giraffe with a yelp, wishing there was some sort of seatbelt. Especially as it started moving up and down.

Ahead of and beside her, she could hear her friends whooping and cheering. Even quiet Narcissa laughed happily, throwing her hands in the air.

Nova, on the other hand, held onto the moving animal for dear life. It was only after taking a moment to realize that she was hardly two feet off the ground that she felt comfortable enough to lessen her death grip.

The spinning motion was exhilarating, and she found herself getting into it. Why were these things supposed to be just for kids? Nova let out a loud cheer as the giraffe rose and fell in tune with the music.

It was all over far too soon, and Nova and her team tumbled off the ride with wobbly legs all around. Oscar was laughing nearly hysterically as he clung to his cane.

Nova leaned against the gate, the other hand clutching her belly from her laughter. “That was amazing.” She managed to get out.

“I knew you’d like it.” Oscar said with a grin. 

They managed to leave the area with only one minor issue, when Ruby toppled into Adrian, sending them both sprawling to the tile floor in a tangle of limbs and laughter.

Nova helped Ruby up, and Danna took care of Adrian, and they all got to a table to sit.

“I don’t know about you guys,” Oscar started, “But I’m gonna need some ice cream.”

“If I eat ice cream I will puke all over you.” Danna groaned. 

“Good thing I’m not making you eat it. Nova, come with?”

Nova tried to protest, but a moment later she was being dragged away by Oscar, Ruby, and Adrian. 

They pulled her towards another store, which Nova concluded must be the “Dairy Queen” Oscar was talking about. Why? Because it said ‘Dairy Queen’ in giant, bold letters in front of the store.

“You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted a Dairy Queen Blizzard.” Oscar said. Nova turned to the others, but both Ruby and Adrian nodded enthusiastically.

“Fine. What flavors do they have?”

“Every flavor. All the flavors.” Oscar gestured to the large menu as they approached the counter. “Whatever flavor you desire.”

“Do they have just regular vanilla?” Looking at all the choices, Nova felt a bit overwhelmed. 

“I mean yeah, but you can go get vanilla anywhere. Only Dairy Queen has… let me see.. Heath Caramel Brownie.” Oscar chuckled, and pulled Nova along with him.

“I’m gonna get you a cookie dough Blizzard.” He said after another moment’s thought. “You’ll like it.”

“Why are you making all my choices for me?”

“Because this is a team building exercise, remember? We’re building trust.” Oscar put his hand on her shoulder. “Do you really think I would get you something to eat that was bad?”

They made it to the counter, and Oscar ordered the ice cream for him and Nova. Ruby and Adrian got their own, and they moved to the line waiting for their food.

“How come you didn’t bother Ruby about getting something plain?” Nova complained. “A chocolate dipped cone-”

“Because I’m his girlfriend, and he knows not to mess with me.” Ruby laughed. 

Oscar and Adrian joined her, and Nova glared at all three of them. “You are all awful people. How dare you.”

“Order for Oscar.” The worker called. And even with his cane, Oscar beat Nova to the counter. The worker tipped the two cups of ice cream upside down, and Nova’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head. What the-

However, the ice cream was so thick that it stayed, and the worker handed Oscar the cups and two spoons. He turned back to Nova and handed her hers, and she gave him a sidelong glance as she took a bite.

“Oh.”

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Oscar nudged her. “Say it.”

“It’s pretty good. You were right.” Nova sighed.

“Ooh! She said it! Adrian, your girlfriend just said I was right! Imagine that!” He laughed at Nova’s glare, and the two of them walked back to the table where Danna and Narcissa were.

Narcissa already had her nose in a book, and Danna was leaning back with her feet on the table. They sat down, and Nova took another bite of ice cream.

Oscar was practically shoveling his in his mouth, but Nova decided to take her time. She chewed thoughtfully on a piece of cookie dough, and smiled at Adrian and Ruby when they returned.

They all descended into light conversation, Danna stealing the magazine from Nova and continuing to chuckle over their picture. Nova took a large bite of ice cream, and-

Oh sweet rot.

Her entire brain was exploding. She nearly dropped her spoon as she reached to clutch her forehead, eyes welling up at the sudden pain.

“Oh, shit, brainfreeze?” Oscar asked. Nova couldn’t answer.

After a few grueling, painful moments, the fire in her head ceased, and Nova leaned back, groaning. 

“What was that?”

“Brainfreeze.” Adrian said sympathetically. “Happens sometimes.”

“It felt like my head was being split open by a mideavel torture device, how can you be so calm?” She yelped.

“Have you never had a brainfreeze before?” Osca asked curiously.

“No.”

“It sucks, but it’s not, like, deadly. I think. I’m pretty sure.” He licked the back of his red spoon. “Just happens sometimes.”

She was reluctant to take another bite, but after a few licks and nothing happened, Nova finally finished her ice cream. 

And just like that, Oscar’s ‘team bonding experience’ came to an end. Ruby left first, finishing her chocolate-dipped cone and giving Oscar a quick goodbye kiss. Adrian was next, and Danna and Narcissa left together, Danna helping her girlfriend carry all her books home. 

Which left Nova with Oscar.

“I’ll walk you home.” He offered. “I mean, I’m no Adrian Everhart, but-”

“Okay, you dork.”

He grinned, and stood up. “Alright then. But before we leave, was this fun?”

“Yeah.” Nova admitted.

“Are you glad I dragged you away from your very important work?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

They didn’t say much else, instead walking back to Nova’s apartment in comfortable, companionable silence.

~~~~

Fanfic/Headcanon Requests!

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

Splitting Open

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The plot and pairing are mine and everything else is borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made. 

Pairing: Hollirey

Rating: PG

When Bobo Del Rey has a migraine and tries to ignore it, he ends up having to be taken care of. 

Author’s note: As someone who suffers chronic migraine, I wanted to write a drabble with Bobo Del Rey experiencing them and having to have his partner and found!family taking care of him. So you get this. 

*~*~*~*

Splitting Open

It crept upon him in increments so he hadn't fully caught the warning signs too used to the thrum of the curse and the constant heat under his skin. It made him sort of push passed anything else that didn't hit him like a freight train.

Until the throbbing, stabbing pain centered behind his eyes has him doubling over and nearly vomiting mid-step. Ones like these that came slowly and then struck at once tended to put him out for hours if not a full day. And this was particularly problematic as he was on his way to meet up with a certain heir. He braces himself against the door of the truck and considers just canceling and telling her that he had better things to do and she'd just have to wait but...

Waverly would be there and honestly, he didn't want to disappoint her. His stomach revolts violently and he ends up gagging but at least the pressure has lessened somewhat. It grants him at least clear enough vision to drive himself to Shorty's. In hindsight, he probably should have just asked one of the Revenants to do this but there was no way he was having them see him in this sort of state.

It still takes him longer than he likes and he misses a couple of turns, twice. Hopefully, Wynonna didn't expect him to be punctual.

Getting out of the truck leaves him dizzy and realizing that this was probably the worst idea he'd had and that in retrospect he was probably not thinking too clearly as his head was throbbing and it was very hard to focus on any one thing for too long. He closes his eyes a moment to try and reorient himself which once again takes longer than he'd like. He feels hot and cold and dizzy. Clammy and not at all like he should be doing this. But something, something wouldn't go well if he didn't. The reason was now fuzzy but he doesn't like it so he forces himself a step at a time forward. The light hurts, sounds hurt, everything just hurt.

Entering is no better; the sharp smells and sounds only make him want to vomit again and he struggles to stay upright. “It's about time you sho...Bobo?”

He struggles to look anything close to cocky and imposing and is sure there's no point as the look he's getting is quite concerned. And when it's from Wynonna, well he's clearly not hiding anything. “Migraine,” he manages to get out, “S-sort of snuck up on me...” His gesture is shaky, sloppy even as he tries to sound like it wasn't as much as it was.

“Migraine,” Wynonna says slowly gazing at him.

“Mmhmm, you know; headache on steroids? Everything hurts, smells are vomit-inducing, lights are awful, noise is worse. Those things? Got one trying to stab me through my eye. S' fantastic.”

“Then why the hell are you here instead of laying down somewhere?”

He wants to point out what should be obvious; they had a truce and he was getting tired of being accused of not pulling his weight in it but his stomach decides at that moment to want to revolt and he barely manages to get to a trashcan before he's retching miserably the throbbing worsening. “Goddammit, Bobo Del Rey,” Wynonna huffs as she approaches, “There are some things you don't try to force yourself through. This is one of them.”

“'S not...like I'd get much in the way of quiet at the compound a-anyway so if I'm going to be miserable might as well do as you asked.”

“Except, I'd like you to be coherent enough to give me an update. You are clearly feeling like someone ran you over a few times and I really do not want to deal with you having to get a trashcan every few minutes.”

He wants to argue but at this point; was he really going to win? Everything was just making things so much worse. Footsteps approach and he grimaces. “Is he okay?” Robin asks softly.

“Migraine apparently,” Wynonna answers, “Should probably put him in Doc's room until he gets back and can deal with him.”

“Ahhh, yeah, if you do that let me get something that might help. I'll be right back,” comes his immediate quiet answer before the steps recede lighter this time. Bobo had to hand it to that one in particular; he didn't absolutely hate him.

The jury was still out on the others most of the time.

He can barely finish that to completion before he winces at just everything. And then there are the soft footsteps before something is slipped over his head and the noise goes silent. Oh. Headphones. Robin had...

Yes, he definitely would let this one live. Of course he's lightly tugged and he goes with deciding that he's had more than enough of all of this. Of everything. The silence helps the throbbing and he is far more pliant to being pushed into the familiar sheets on Doc's bed before he just curls up. He's pretty sure the headphones keep him from hearing anything that might remotely be insulting about his pitiable state whether it's imagined or real and he is fine with that.

Sleep comes in fits and starts until there is a gentle shifting and he blinks blearily up at Waverly. His angel smiles softly before lightly pressing and he moves so he's laying on his back wondering what she was... The feel of a cold pack against his forehead startles him somewhat but helps immeasurably. His eyes slowly flutter closed and he's sure she mouth's something but can't quite make it out as he settles once more.

The next time he awakens the pain has lessened and the still cold item against his skin tells him it's been changed recently. Slowly shifting it and removing the headphones, he finds the room dark but can make out the figure sitting in the chair nearby. “Henry,” he manages.

“Robert,” comes the soft response, “You should take better care.”

“T-to be fair I didn't exactly notice this one coming. It happens sometimes.”

“Well, when you knew you should have called. I would have come to the park and kept an eye on things. Wynonna, for all her faults, would understand not wanting to deal with anyone in that case. Your health is important to us.”

“Is it now?”

“Do not be daft,” the man warns him, “I'm sour enough with you for things to be uncomfortable but there is also Waverly who would like you to know and I quote 'you have absolutely no common-sense or sense of self-preservation and when you are well enough she's going to punch you for this' end quote. So maybe learn a little better not to upset your family.”

“She...said that?”

“That she did and I am sure she means it, too.”

He can't help the soft chuckle before he'd murmur, “Maybe not the worst thing to hear in all of this.”

Doc rolls his eyes as he moves closer before gently reaching to brush his fingers along his jaw. “I let Levi know you'd be here for a spell and not to worry about you as well as to keep your more tempestuous community members in check so that you do not have to worry.”

“You actually trust Levi to do that?”

“No, that's why I also called and repeated it to Hui and Howard both.”

Bobo can't help laughing softly. “You are certainly learning, Henry. And...thank you. For what it's worth, you didn't have to do that and I appreciate it.”

“Hey now,” Doc murmurs gently as he cups the side of his face, “We are partners, yes? That means I'm allowed to try and help look after the boys if I feel the need.”

“And we both know the boys need all the looking after in the world.”

“Ain't gonna argue that because they are frightfully bad at a lot of things. However, you are to worry about nothing and just rest. I mean it.”

“You know I'm pretty bad at that,” he remarks, “How are you going to be sure that I will?”

At that, the other straightens before removing his hat and making short work of his boots, pants and shirt before slowly sliding into the bed curling an arm around him. “Because, Robert,” he murmurs nuzzling against his jaw, “I'm gonna be right here makin' sure you do.”

[marls-whoisleft]

fingers crossed // august 2nd, 1977 // self-para

Standing in center of the bathroom, door closed and locked just for safe measures; the seventeen year old’s hands shook as she waited. This was likely the hundredth pregnancy test Marlene had taken thus far, but she wasn’t going to tell another living, breathing soul until she took another one. Just one more--- like that would change the outcome, but as she sucked in a shaky breath a tiny piece of her thought it was possible. Hoped it was possible would likely be more accurate, though in the end the outcome was still the same as the last test she took.

Positive.

Well, fuck.

Tossing the test in the garbage, Marlene quickly pulled the bag out of the bin to tie it up. Even though she had her own bathroom she didn’t trust someone not to come use it because one of the many other bathrooms in the manor were being used--- it never failed; she’d come home and one of her brothers would leave a mess for her to clean up. After a quick trip to toss the bag outside Marlene wasted no time to make her way to the family’s fireplace in the front sitting room--- having only just turned seventeen Marlene hadn’t gotten her chance to get her apparation license yet. 

Picking up the Floo powder, Marlene cleared her throat to speak clearly. “Paxton Manor.” She didn’t want to make the mistake of finding herself shooting out of the wrong fireplace--- it might have happened a few times. Once when she was still learning, and another when the Gryffindor was a little too intoxicated to speak without slurring her words. One lives and they learn.

The familiar surroundings of the neatly tidied home surrounded Marlene. Allan’s family were purebloods, but they weren’t extravagantly well off as some. Sure, they had money, but it was more in the laid back and almost homey way that they showed it. The foyer was empty, but Marlene knew Allan was home. She had sent him and owl earlier during the day and asked if she could speak with him--- usually she was one to just show up, but she had been planning every tiny detail of how to share the information over the last forty-eight hours almost obsessively. Now that she was there everything Marlene planned to say seemed lost from her mind. 

Dusting off her jeans; ripped and splattered with brightly colored paint to add just a little something, Marlene stepped out of the fireplace and followed the sound of music coming from up the stairs. One foot in front of the other, the Gryffindor was standing in front of Allan’s bedroom door and she took a deep breath before lifting her hand and knocking--- she’d lose the courage if she didn’t do it quick enough. The youngest McKinnon still contemplated her escape, but before she could get too far into her plan the bedroom door opened and before her stood the familiar figure of Rhy’s best friend.  

“McKinnon.” Leaning against the door frame, Allan didn’t move out of the way to invite her inside of his room. Instead he stood there, arms crossed and assessing her like he was planning the quickest way to get her to leave. They hadn’t really talked too much since they saw each other on her family’s vacation, and usually Marlene wasn’t one to linger unless she was already friends with the person. However, this was a completely different circumstance. “Is everything alright with Rhys?”

Under normal circumstances that would likely be the only reason she would go out of her way to seek out her brother’s best friend. “Rhys is fine. Look, I need---”

“It really isn’t a good time then. If this isn’t important I really need to be getting ready...” The git already started to close his bedroom door, but Marlene slammed her hand against the wood to prevent him from getting very far. 

“Do you really think I would be bugging you if this wasn’t fucking important?” the girl snapped, just about any sound reason of logic escaping her. Marlene’s patience was already incredibly thin and she wanted more than anyone to turn around and leave without saying anything, but she was trying to do the right thing. The adult thing. That didn’t happen all too often and he was making it harder and harder each time he opened his mouth. 

Shrugging his shoulders, Allan opened his door all the way once again and seemed to fully assess her finally. “I don’t know. You look really on edge, Marls. Is one of your dealers ignoring you?”

“I’m not feigning for drugs, you prick. I’m--- you know what? Fuck you! You would be the last person I would ask for anything. How dare you! And to think I was going out of my way to care about your feelings at all. Forget about it. Fuck you and forget about everything.”

The brunette turned on her heel, ready to go back home but she didn’t make it very far before Allan grabbed her arm. He stopped her before Marlene could make it to the stairs, spinning her around so she was facing him once again. “Marlene. Stop, please. Please, I’m sorry.” His apology did nothing to curb her anger because as quickly as his fingers wrapped around her wrist, Marlene was pulling her arm away as if the man’s touch burned her skin. “I’m sorry, Marlene. That wasn’t---”

“I’m pregnant.” 

There it was. The words rushed out before he could get out another word--- she didn’t want to make up an excuse as to why she was on edge. Marlene almost didn’t think he deserved to know, but she was already there. Might as well finish what she sent out to do. 

Allan was the one to step back this time, blinking as he was likely taking a second to process what she said. “You’re pregnant?” When she nodded he asked the next stupidest question she could think of. “Are you sure you’re pregnant?”

Rolling her eyes, Marlene let out an exasperated sigh. “You don’t think I would be completely sure before I bothered to tell you? I’ve taken every single bloody test imaginable to make sure they all say the same thing.”

The next thing he asked was worse. She lied--- there was a was another question worst than the last. “Are you sure it’s mine?”

This time Marlene didn’t say anything, turning she darted down the stairs, but again she wasn’t quick enough because once she made it down the stairs Allan’s hand was on her arm again. “Do not touch me! If you touch me one more time I swear that will be the last time you touch another girl,” she threatened, and even though it was satisfying to see him put his hands up in the air and take a step back, it still did nothing to dull her anger. 

In all fairness Marlene was someone who liked to have her fun. She was flirtatious and found it easy to find someone to entertain her when the party ended for the rest of the night, but she had been with her family. The only person she’d been around she wasn’t related to the past month had been Rhys, and the git had the audacity to ask if she was pregnant with some other man’s child. The desire to hex him was almost too much, but her hands stayed at her sides as she clenched and un-clenched her hands into fists just for something to do. 

“You’re the only one I’ve been with all summer. Of course I’m sure it’s your’s,” Marlene said through gritted teeth. 

Wincing, Allan shook his head. “Marls...I, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“What do you mean you don’t know what I want you to say? I’m saying you got me fucking pregnant, Allan. I don’t know what the hell to do and I want you to talk to me--- tell me fucking something because I have no idea what I’m doing here!” She was yelling, but Marlene felt she shouldn’t be the only one with the knowledge weighing on her. Of course she could have told Mary or Lily and they would be there in an instant for her, but she barely wanted the other party knowing--- let alone people who weren’t part of the situation. “I’m fucking terrified and I’m asking for you to say fucking anything!”

He was shaking his head again; quicker, like he was actually understanding what she was saying. “Marls...” a nervous laugh followed her name, “I’m nowhere near ready for a kid. You--- hell, you are nowhere near ready for a kid. I don’t know what you were hoping to hear from me, but you’re not going to hear it. This is bloody mental.”

“It’s not like I exactly planned it. I’m still a fucking kid, Allan. I just turned seventeen years old--- I don’t even know if I ever want kids, but if I do it’s definitely not now! I---”

“You’re not going to tell Rhys, are you?” The question cut off whatever rambling was going to follow, and the brunettes eyes narrowed in as he continued to speak. “Whatever you do, you can’t tell Rhys...Marlene, he will never forgive me if he finds out about this. Promise me.”

“Excuse me?” She stepped back, as if his words physically hurt her. Marlene knew that had been coming, though. The only thing Allan cared about was making sure this didn’t ruin his relationship with his best friend--- perhaps he should have thought about that before sleeping with Marlene, then. “You want me to keep a secret from Rhys? Fuck you, he’s my brother. How do you expect him not to find out, genius?”

“Well, it’s not like you’re going to go through with it, are you?”

And there was the million dollar question. Marlene was hoping after her conversation with Allan she would finally have that answer, but the altercation hadn’t gone how she hoped. It’s exactly how she thought it would happen, but she hoped she had been wrong.

Snapping his fingers in front of her face, Allan brought Marlene back to reality. Reaching up, the Gryffindor pushed his hand away from her face. “I don’t know.” That was the most honest answer she could come up with at that moment.

“You already know you’re not ready to have a kid. Listen, Marls, I have a date I have to get ready for. Just don’t tell Rhys--- it’ll be miserable it the end for the both of us. You know he’ll try to convince you to keep it.” After he spoke he turned around, walking up the stairs and back into his room. 

It wasn’t until Marlene already heard his bedroom door close that one foot was moving in front of the other, taking her up the stairs and back to the door of Allan’s bedroom. “You’re a fucking coward!” She didn’t reach for the doorknob, but rather slammed her hands against the wood of the door. “I bothered to give a shit about your feelings, but you couldn’t respect me enough to say anything other than I’m too much of a kid to do anything. Fuck you--- I wouldn’t want to be tied to a worthless piece of shite like you anyway!” 

Her hands slammed against the wooden door again. And again. Again, and again, and again. Marlene wasn’t satisfied until she felt bruises start to form on her skin.

“You’re a waste of fucking space. I swear to Merlin, Allan if you ever step foot inside of my family’s house again I will tell everyone you knocked me up and when I confronted you about it you told me to fuck off. Grow a pair and stay out of my fucking life.” Hands slammed against the door and it wasn’t until that second Marlene realized tears were falling down her cheeks. When had she started crying? “Do yourself a favor and tell the next girl you want to shag she should save herself some time because it wasn’t worth the two seconds you fucking lasted. This is all fucked!”

Turning, Marlene ran down the stairs and went to the fireplace. Through her tears she managed to say her family’s manor and sprinted to her bedroom once she was home--- thankfully not running into anyone as she did. It was the middle of the day and all of her family members seemed to still be working. The youngest McKinnon slammed her own bedroom door behind her and collapsed onto her bed.

Now that Marlene was completely and utterly alone, she pressed her face to one of her pillows and allowed her tears to fall freely without attempting to hold them back anymore. How long she cried that day she didn’t even know.

[carmenlire]

Haha Just Kidding. . . Unless?

read on ao3

Alec almost spits out his coffee as he hears Magnus’s confident answer.

“Kill Jace, Marry Simon, Fuck Alec.”

His best friend says it without blinking or taking a breath and the lunch table falls silent for a minute as everyone processes what Magnus has just said. Alec feels like he’s having a coronary and he hates himself, just a little-- okay a lot-- for the sheer yearning that response creates.

Jace immediately hops on the defensive. “Hey, why would you kill me? Et tu, Brute?” He tips his protein shake in Magnus’s direction. “I’ll have you know that I’m a hot piece of ass and ladies are lining up to get a shot at me.”

Rolling his eyes, Magnus replies, “You wear way too much product in your hair. Just the thought of running my hands through that greasy mess makes me ill. Plus, I don’t think we’ve ever had a civil conversation-- our marriage would be doomed from the start.”

Jace looks like he wants to protest but he just grumbles something nobody understands and chugs his shake. Instead, it’s Simon who straightens, looking intrigued and delighted.

“You’d marry me? Awe, I didn’t know you cared so much.”

Magnus’s reply is absent as his eyes are locked on his phone, fingers flying over the keyboard. “Alexander’s my first choice but since we’re roommates, it’s like we’re already married. You’re a lovely person, Sherman, and at least we have the same taste in music. Coming home to you every night ranks solidly in the middle of how I’d want to spend my time-- not great but better than hell.”

Simon snorts. “You charmer you.”

“Those are bold words, Bane,” Izzy interjects on the other side of the table and Alec didn’t even know she was paying attention. She has a biology test tonight and she’s been furiously reviewing her notes since she plopped down in the seat next to him. “Aren’t you afraid that sleeping with my brother would ruin your friendship?”

Magnus looks discomfited for a moment. It’s striking but Alec can’t read the look in his eyes as he looks uncharacteristically maudlin for a bare moment before he brightens again. Alec could almost believe he’d imagined the look of sour dejection.

“It’s just a game, Isabelle. Alec’s an attractive man and I, more than anybody else, should know how irresistible he is. We’ve been friends since middle school. If I was going to fuck anyone, shouldn’t it be someone I love and trust?”

Alec looks up and his gaze find its unerring way to Magnus’s. He feels a flush crawl up his neck as he meets the challenge in his best friend’s stare. Even though it was a silly game, as Alec looks at Magnus he can’t help but wish it was real instead of his best friend being his usually teasing and outrageous self.

Still. It’s Magnus and there’s really only response Alec can give him. “I love and trust you too, Magnus.”

He hears most of the table groan though Magnus himself doesn’t say anything. No, if Alec didn’t know better, he’d say his friend was struck speechless, though Alec detects the softening of his expression, his eyes growing wide before whatever emotion had flared bright in them is banked.

The moment suspends in time but before either one of them can say anything, Jace is cursing and breaking the moment. “Shit, we’ve got class in ten minutes, Alec.”

Alec groans but heaves himself up-- their class was on the other side of campus from the student center and they’d have to leave now and power walk to get there before Professor Herondale started lecturing. She takes Children’s Psych way too seriously and Alec really doesn’t want his participation grade docked for the day.

Shoving their things into their book bags, Alec and Jace leave with a round of goodbyes. As he passes Magnus, he feels his roommate sweep a hand over his back as he murmurs, “Bye, darling, see you later.”

It’s not until they’re halfway through class and ostensibly working on a group assignment that Jace punches him in the shoulder with a look like Alec’s supposed to know why the hell he just bruised him.

“What the fuck?”

Jace rolls his eyes. “Don’t give me that shit. Did you hear what I heard at lunch? Magnus totally wants in your pants, dude.”

Wincing, Alec’s struck with a pang of resignation for his brother’s delicacy. “You know he didn’t mean it like that.”

“He said, and I quote, ‘fuck Alec.’ In what world does that not mean what it means?”

“Since we’re best friends and he was answering an asinine question,” Alec hisses back, glaring at Jace. “He probably just didn’t want to leave me out.”

Jace just levels him with a look. “You’re dumb as shit, you know that right?”

“Fuck off, Jace,” Alec snaps and Jace’s eyebrows shoot up at the vehemence in his tone.

“Woah, bro. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I thought it was good news! You know Magnus wouldn’t joke about boning his best friend just to do it. You mean too much to him and we all know how gone you’ve been over Magnus since, like, eighth grade.”

Alec sighs and it feels like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “I can’t get my hopes up, Jace. I’ve been in love with him for years but he doesn’t feel the same way.”

Groaning like they’ve gone around the block about this a thousand times-- because they have-- Jace facepalms. “How many times do I have to tell you-- Magnus feels what you feel but you’re both too stupid to get past your own hang-ups to talk about it.”

Alec doesn’t deign to answer and then Herondale is calling for the class’s attention at the front of the room. Both Jace and Alec slink down in their seats, desperately hoping they don’t get called on since they didn’t even make it through the front of the worksheet, let alone the back.

It’s dusk by the time Alec’s pushing his key in the lock of the apartment he shares with Magnus. Running a hand through his damp hair-- Rugby practice had ran over and his hair’s still wet from the shower he'd taken afterwards-- Alec pushes open their front door as he readjusts the bag on his shoulder.

He’s just set to call out a greeting to Magnus-- he’d texted his roommate when he’d gotten out of the shower to let him know when he’d be home-- and he smells pizza from where it must be waiting in the kitchen.

The words die on his lips, however, as he hears what sounds like Magnus arguing with someone.

“No, Cat, I’m a dumbass,” Magnus groans. “I can’t believe I just said it like that but it-- it just came out and I sure as hell wasn’t going to take the words back.”

Alec frowns, confused, though his lips twitch at Magnus’s propensity for being dramatic. Setting his bag down in the little hallway next to the door, he steps out of his Nike sandals and pads to the living room. Magnus is pacing in front of the tv but he comes to a stop with his back to him as he listens to Catarina on the other end.

He watches his friend’s shoulders slump and the urge to go over to Magnus and engulf him in one of his patented bear hugs is almost overwhelming. Hearing Magnus’s next words, though, Alec freezes, hardly daring to breathe.

“Of course I meant them,” Magnus sighs and he lifts a hand to rake it through already disheveled hair. “Alec could have me any way he wanted. The problem is that he doesn’t want. He just doesn’t see me like that, Cat.”

The words set off a chain reaction in Alec and he half thinks that he’s in the middle of an out of body experience. It seems too good to be true but when Magnus starts speaking again just a few seconds later, Alec allows the endless hope that he's been pushing down for years to spring to life.

“He’s my best friend and I’d rather have that than make a move and not even have him in my life anymore. I don’t think I could live without him at this point-- hell we’ve been roommates all four years of college and before that we had sleepovers at each other’s houses at least three times a week. No,” Magnus says resolutely. “This afternoon was just a game and it doesn’t matter if I’m in love Alec and want him to dick me down into next week I--”

At that moment, Magnus turns around whatever he was about to say dies on his lips as he sees Alec standing there in the doorway.

Neither one says anything for a long moment.

Alec hears Cat grow progressively louder through the phone, her tinny voice growing more insistent as Magnus doesn’t say anything.

Finally, Magnus mumbles, “Bye, Cat,” and hangs up. Dropping his arm, Magnus looks up at Alec with fear in his eyes. His devastation is fairly palpable in their tiny living room.

While Alec still feels like he walked on set of a tv show he’s never seen before, it’s the most natural thing in the world to move until he’s standing right in front of his roommate, his best friend.

Swallowing hard, with Magnus’s words ringing in his ears, Alec scrapes enough courage together to say, “You love me?”

And it should be a ridiculous question-- because duh. They’ve been friends for almost ten years-- over half their lives. Magnus was the first person Alec came out to and he was the first and only person Magnus called their freshman year when his at home perm went horribly wrong and they fit together like they’re made for each other.

Alec’s often thought that if he couldn’t have it all then it was enough to be Magnus’s platonic soulmate, his very best friend.

Now, though, he’s struck by the most fervent longing and he can hardly believe his eyes but he thinks he sees it reflected in Magnus’s gaze.

He watches as Magnus takes a deep breath before leaning imperceptibly closer. His voice is scarcely a breath when he corrects, “You must have heard wrong, Alexander. I said that I’m in love with you.”

The words pierce the spell that seems to have fallen over them and without thinking, Alec’s lunging forward, cupping Magnus’s cheeks and hauling him close for a kiss that feels like coming home.

By the time they pull apart, they’re both breathing hard. Alec doesn’t open his eyes immediately, instead content to nose along Magnus’s jaw. He relishes the closeness, the feel of Magnus sweeping absent hands over his back.

Without thinking, he says, “Oh, thank God.”

He’s gratified to hear Magnus snort before he’s pulling back and looking at Alec with the world’s fondness in his eyes. “I think that’s my line.”

And Alec doesn’t know what it is-- the relief and happiness on Magnus’s face, the way he’s stroking a thumb over Alec’s shoulder in a move that doesn’t even seem conscious, or the simple fact that he’s so happy that it feels like he’s exploding-- but everything melts away except making sure Magnus understands his feelings.

“What,” he says softly, hint of a grin curling over his mouth. “Did you really think I wouldn’t be madly in love with you, too?”

He watches the words land on his best friend-- the way Magnus’s eyes widen and flare bright with delight, the shudder that wracks him as he pulls Alec closer.

It’s Magnus who closes that distance a second time and the kiss is far gentler but contains so much more depth that Alec feels like he’s drowning.

They collapse on the couch just a few feet away and spend the rest of the night kissing and laughing and getting caught up on their shows. By the time they remember, their pizza is cold but neither one minds as they bring the box straight to the where they’re sitting in the living room.

When it’s late and they’re both full and exhausted, Alec stands and lets the blanket that had been wrapped around them fall to the floor. Keeping Magnus’s hand in his, he takes a single step back towards his bedroom. “Ready?”

It’s an innocuous enough question. It’s a statement of fact that they spend more time sleeping together than they do apart-- a hold over from all of those sleepovers growing up-- but the single word is loaded with meaning tonight. In the dim light of their apartment, Alce watches a dozen emotions flit over a face he knows as well as his own, though damned if he can read them.

But Magnus doesn’t hesitate as he squeezes his hand and climbs gracefully to his feet. “Lead the way, darling.”

The two fall asleep wrapped around each other in Alec’s shitty twin bed. Alec had thought he’d be too wired to fall asleep after the day he’d had but with Magnus so close and his heart at ease for the first time in ages, he drifts off almost immediately.

The next morning, the two of them wake up and when their gazes crash together-- both of them eager to prove that the night before wasn’t just a dream-- they each breath a sigh of relief. They have a long, incredibly overdue conversation while they make breakfast and by the time they’re sitting down to eat their infamous french toast, they’re on the same page.

A few days later, when they join their friends at lunch, Magnus and Alec keeping holding hands even as the group’s eyes zero in on them.

It’s silent for a beat before Isabelle starts crowing, startling everyone. “Holy shit,” she exclaims and while her smile lights up her face as she shoots a happy look at Alec, it quickly turns mercenary as she turns it to Jace. “You owe me fifty bucks-- I told you that giving Magnus a FMK scenario would settle things.”

When Jace stares at Isabelle before going to Magnus and Alec’s hands, before going back to Izzy, Alec figures no one’s surprised when he jumps out of his seat. Pointing at Alec, he says in a serious tone, “I’m happy for you, bro-- it’s about time,” before pivoting to point at Isabelle and saying just as seriously, “You’ll have to kill me for it,” and running out of the student hub like his ass is on fire.

Everyone waits to see how Izzy will react but she just shrugs carelessly and takes a bite out of her candy bar. “I know where he sleeps and where he keeps his protein powder.”

Everyone laughs and Magnus and Alec share an exasperated, if fond, look as they take their seats.

They don’t let go of each other’s hands the whole meal, which makes eating lunch a little difficult, but neither one minds at all.

[sassyshoulderangel319]

Proposal

Just a little vampire ficlet for the spookiest month of all!

Alora struggled against the manacles chaining her to the chair in the dungeon of the unfamiliar castle. Her gown was torn and she’d been struggling for so long she’d probably bruised her wrists. No avail. She was still securely fastened to the chair.

The young man standing next to the heavy wooden door was watching her with a malicious grin. He had incredibly fine features. Sharp lines. His brown skin was glossy---as was his tightly-curled black hair. He wore casually expensive clothing. Loose white linen shirt, black breeches, tall leather boots that gleamed in the torchlight. All of them worth enough to feed a farmer and his family for a month.

His grin was close-mouthed. He didn’t say a word to her. She didn’t say a word to him. Just ignored his occasional chuckle and kept trying to get out of the shackles. She figured he wouldn’t tell her why she’d been brought here even if she asked, so she didn’t bother to ask.

“Humans are amusing,” the young man remarked.

Alora didn’t spare him a glance, but did spare a second thought as to why he said Humans as though he wasn’t one.

The door slammed open. Unfortunately, Alora thought, it opened to the opposite side to smack her watcher.

Another figure swept in, dark cloak billowing. “Leave us,” he ordered the dark-skinned young man. “I’ll deal with her alone.”

“Your Highness---”

“Don’t you trust me?” the newcomer asked, voice a threatening purr. “Get out before she starts bleeding. You’re not strong enough yet to resist that, Felix.”

The young man who’d been watching Alora struggle, Felix, merely raised an eyebrow and bowed to the newcomer. “Sincerest apologies, Your Highness. I’ll take my leave.” With that, he swept out of the dungeon. The newcomer slammed the door after him and whirled to Alora. The hood of his cloak fell off.

His skin was deathly pale. His lines were slightly softer than the other young man’s. His hair wasn’t as black either, but was still dark. There was a streak of white near the front of his hair. He wore a silver circlet of three braided bands, a single red gem in the center of his forehead.

He smiled at Alora.

Her blood ran cold, draining from her face.

He had fangs.

She tried not to panic, but she knew the stories of the vampires as well as anyone else did. They were dangerous. They were parched. They were merciless. They were deadly.

The new man was a few years older than her---but there was a timelessness to his face that was a bit unsettling.

He swept a chair out of the shadows and sat on it, unfastening his cloak and draping it over the back. “Princess Alora,” he greeted, giving her a slight bow in his seat.

Alora stiffened, leaning away from him. “How did you know---”

“You think you were snatched by accident?” he asked, sounding amused. “No, no, darling. You were chosen for a reason.” His grin grew wider, making his fangs more visible. He reached into an interior pocket of his cloak and withdrew a circlet similar to his---except it was two flattened bands of silver bending down to a large blue gem. “I believe this is yours.”

He placed it on her head and returned to his seat.

“Any noblewoman should display her status and power whenever possible.”

Alora spat on the stone floor between her and the vampire. “You mock me, you monster,” she snapped. “You and I both know I have no power here.”

The vampire just chuckled, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms casually. He was dressed even more expensively than the first young man to watch her. “Well now, darling, that entirely depends on your choice,” he said.

Alora scrunched her eyebrows. “What?”

The vampire watched her for a moment. And she realized that the red she’d seen in his eyes wasn’t the torchlight. It was his actual iris color.

After a moment’s contemplation, he leaned forward. “I’m going to unchain you. Don’t bother trying to run away. You’d never make it out of the room before I caught you.” He reached out and unlocked the shackles.

Alora rubbed at her wrists, wincing as she felt the bruises. “What choice am I supposed to make?” she asked, peering at him past her hair falling over her shoulders.

The vampire paused a moment. “I realize I neglected to introduce myself. My name is Xalian Farnight. Prince Xalian Farnight,” he said. Alora’s eyebrows twitched closer together.

“Didn’t realize vampires had royalty.”

“There are just enough of us that self-governing is ill-advised,” Xalian remarked, calm and relaxed. He leaned closer to her, peering at her eyes. “The new moon is tonight. And, if all goes according to plan, I’ll be king of the vampires before the sun rises. Now. Here is the choice I give to you, and the offer I make: join me. Be my bride. Combine our kingdoms into one vast power and---”

“In return be your blood slave?” Alora spat.

“Don’t be crass, darling,” Xalian admonished. “I will admit you smell delectable. However I’m not interested in feeding off you.” Alora cocked an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Without permission,” Xalian added, whether as a caveat or afterthought Alora wasn’t entirely sure. “But that’s beside the point, princess. The point is: if you choose to be my bride, you and I will become the most powerful monarchs in all the kingdoms. Unstoppable. With my vampires and the humans behind you, no one would be stronger than us.” He smiled. It was an alluring smile.

Alora leaned forward and stopped so she was copying his position an inch from his face, eyes narrowed and lips pursed in thought.

That attractive smile turned to a smirk. “You’d have all the freedom that’s ever been denied you,” Xalian added. “Every barrier someone’s placed in your way would simply vanish. You can do what you please and travel where you want. As my queen.” He licked his fangs. “Eventually, should you choose, I would turn you. And we could rule forever. But for now, it’s important that you remain human---to ensure your human subjects remain loyal to you. After a few years, a decision may be made. That’s far off for the moment.”

Alora’s jaw tightened. The prospect of true freedom was incredibly appealing, but she knew vampires weren’t to be trusted. “You... swear to me, right now, that you won’t keep me locked away? You give me your word that I maintain the freedom you speak of---my freedom?” she asked sharply.

Xalian maintained his smirk. “Of course, darling. You have my word. I swear to you that you will never be locked in the palace. You absolutely will have the freedom you crave. I swear on my unlife.”

Alora was quiet for a moment. “And I can finish my education?”

“With all the finest tutors in either world. Yours or mine.”

Alora couldn’t see any other way out of her situation, captured by this vampire prince, but ohhh the promise of freedom and finishing her education was incredibly tempting. Her father had decided when she was thirteen that she didn’t need much normal education anymore and had her tutors focus instead on being a good hostess and wife, mastering such domestic arts as weaving and needlework---arts she’d never particularly taken to. She had so many tiny marks on her fingertips from repeatedly accidentally stabbing herself with her needle.

She bit her lip. It was dry. Her teeth closed around a flake of skin and pulled. A sharp sting of pain told her she’d pulled too much and made her lip bleed.

Xalian stiffened, but didn’t move. They were still barely an inch away from each other’s faces.

Alora licked the blood off her lip and smiled at Xalian. “I accept,” she said.

He smiled, a wicked, excited, incredibly attractive smile, and swept her off her chair. “Fantastic. By this time tomorrow, we’ll announce the betrothal, and by the end of the week, we’ll have a wedding.”

“That’s certainly fast.”

“Well, a team of undead can whip up even a royal wedding faster than a human team. No need to stop for sleep or food.”

Alora pursed her lips. “Alright then. Let’s do this.”

“So glad you could accept my offer.”

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Daegu Quarantine

Jungkook x reader

Gang/ zombie apocalypse au

Warnings:

Gore, violence, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, possible future main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?

Summary:

They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?

Word count: 3810

Part 1 === Part 2 === Part 3

“Sounds like it’s going well enough for them.” Namjoon muttered as he trailed behind me down the steep flight of stairs.

The basement was massive, spanning the entire length and width of the house and trailing a bit beyond the foundation and segmented off into several small rooms.

Just to the left of the stairs was what I’d designated our just in case pantry. A room filled from ceiling to floor with shelves piled high with canned goods and the MREs I’d told Jimin to take stock of earlier. I barely glanced inside, mentally taking note that most of the shelves were properly full as I’d intended them to be.

Beyond the pantry lay a large open area filled with couches and bean bag chairs of varying varieties. Against the far wall were several televisions, doubling as both gaming and movie watching areas as well as where the various security cameras that surrounded our home could be monitored.

Namjoon branched off from me at that point, going over to speak with Tae who’d currently been watching the security feed in order to ask him where he’d left the plasma torch as he’d been the last person to use it.

I moved on, making my way past another room that doubled as Jungkook’s private gym and another who’s door was closed that I dismissed immediately off hand.

The last room in the basement was our makeshift clinic.

Large metal cabinets lined the walls of the room, filled with what I knew to be all kinds of medical equipment and medications that we’d gathered from one source or another for emergency purposes. In the center of the room sat a large metal table, one that a person may have expected to find in a surgical theater but that currently held a very faint Hoseok.

He clutched desperately to Jungkook’s hand as Jimin worked quickly to sew up the wound that spanned a 3 inch portion of the dancer/ bodyguard’s lower shin.

“Give it to me straight Doc, am I ever gonna dance again?” Hobi tried to joke, despite the wince of pain that crept into his normally smiling face every time Jimin’s needle and thread passed through his skin.

“Sorry bud. Looks like we may have to amputate it.” I announced myself between passes of the needle, knowing ( and yes true to form he did) that Hoseok would jump and cry out as soon as the words left my mouth.

His face turned white as a sheet as he stared at me before his nervous eyes darted back to Jimin.

“Nooo...say it ain’t so Doc. Tell me she’s lyin.”

Jimin chuckled, snipping off the last bit of thread with his scissors before reaching over to the counter and grabbing a bit of ointment and bandages that he’d obviously prepared beforehand.

“No way hyung. You’re gonna be just fine. 6 stitches is plenty to keep this bad boy together. A few days and you’ll be up and about walking and dancing in no time.” Jimin patted his elder’s uninjured calf, giving him a sly grin as Hoseok swung his legs off the table.

“Don’t you know though? Ladies love a good scar. Love it even more when there’s a hot, life saving event to go along with it.” I chirped cheerfully.

“Yeah,well,” Hoseok began to roll down his pant leg, eyes staring up at me through the fringe of his bangs. “The way things are looking you’re gonna be the only lady around here for a while and with Jungkook in charge I doubt I’m gonna be getting anything anytime soon.”

The comment earned Hoseok a swift and sharp smack to the back of his head, though he grinned at me despite the pain.

“Keep mackin on my girl and that leg ain’t the only thing you’re gonna be worried about boy.” Jungkook’s growl was fierce as he stalked around the table and swooped me into his arms.

The show of aggression was just that, a show. Something to lighten the tense mood that seemed determined to creep into the moderately warm basement.

I smiled as his hands circled my waist, delicate fingers digging lightly into tender flesh as he pressed his hard body into mine. His eyes held a fire as they stared into mine, but also...something I hadn’t seen in a long time. Something I could have sworn was fear.

“Babe?” My voice came out hushed, a whisper that seemed to echo in the quiet room as he grazed a tender kiss across my partially chapped lips.

“It’s crazy out there. I honestly don’t know how we made it home safe.” He pressed his forehead into mine, eyes closed as he seemed to want to block out the whole world and focus in on the one thing that could always ground him. The feel of me beneath his fingertips.

“I know baby. But we’re safe. Our family’s with us and we’re safe.” I whispered, fingers tangling with feather soft hair as my nose brushed lightly against his.

He inhaled, fingers for a brief moment painful as they dug into the delicate skin of my hips through my black jeans. And then he pulled away, vulnerable boy gone to quickly be replaced with the authoritative man that the 7 men around us trusted to lead them and guide them.

“Alright assholes. Get this shit cleaned up. Pow wow upstairs in 20.”

Jimin and Taehyung snapped up instantly at his harsh tone, saluting him quickly and getting to work cleaning the blood off of Hobi and the table. I shot the three a small smile as Jungkook lead me away,one that each of them returned in kind just before we rounded the corner and disappeared from their sight and up the stairs.

Yoongi and Jin had been busy as well, cleaning the trail of blood from the garage to the stairs with an efficiency which only the two of them could have managed in the short time I’d been gone.

“Building’s secure.” Yoongi announced, eyes never leaving the floor as he mopped up the last of the lingering blood and doused the stained mop in the pink tinged water of the mop bucket.

“Anything new from the news?” I asked as Jin and Jungkook exchanged handshakes.

“T.V went out about 15 minutes ago. Nothing from any of the local or national news and the rest is just fuzz. Looks like it’s actually going to shit out there.” Jin’s voice was grim, something I wasn’t used to hearing from the normally jovial man.

My heart clenched, a moment of panic overtaking me as my grip tightened around Jungkook’s hand. He squeezed back in reassurance, motioning for the two to follow us as he lead the way into the living room.

True to Jin’s word the tv showed static, the black and white snow-like images flickering in the quiet room.

“Anything on the radios?” Jungkook motioned to the police scanners to which Yoongi shook his head.

“I checked a bit ago and the last thing that came in was that the Americans were pulling back to their base, probably got orders to high tail it back home.”

“Who can blame them though. We did the same.” I winced at the taste of blood in my mouth, realizing quickly that the anxiety I’d been trying to push down had caused me to worry my lower lip to the point of bleeding.

“Well shit…” I muttered as I made my way to the coffee table and dropped down onto the sofa with a huff.

Snagging a tissue from the box on the table I dabbed at my lip, shaking my head when I pulled the tissue away to reveal a bright red blemish on the normally pristine white cotton.

“I doubt the Americans would abandon us like that. They wouldn’t leave one of their allies like that just to die in the thousands from some dumb psychos.” Jin came to their defense, trying I’m sure to rationalize the situation.

“No, not unless they’re going through the same shit and need their men back home more than here.” Yoongi spat out bitterly as he plopped onto the other end of the sofa beside me.

I huffed, feeling the need for information pulling at me. I reached into my pocket, pulling out my phone while checking the gun at my hip for reassurance.

“It’s 2019, surely the internet’s got something. Some kind of information to let us know what’s going on with the rest of the world.” I squinted down at my phone, typing in my password to unlock it as I stared at the signal symbol in the top corner of the screen.

“The fuck...I’ve got no sig…” My words were interrupted as the power around us flickered. For the briefest of moments we were plunged into darkness before our fleet of backup generators kicked over and the power came back on.

“Holy fuck the world’s fucking ending.” Yoongi grinned, staring at the ceiling as if he’d lost his mind.

“Dude, not cool. I’m sure there’s an explanation for that.” Jin argued as he walked over to the window that faced the street outside and flipped open a few blinds with his fingers.

“Yeah, sure there’s an explanation. There are psychotic people wandering the street, infected with some super rabies that’s got them eating other people and the world’s about to end.” Yoongi let out a light giggle, leaning back into the sofa and closing his eyes in an almost manic glee. “This is too fucking much. I feel like I’m in some lame ass tumblr fanfic or something.”

I frowned, head tilted slightly as I watched him giggling quietly to himself. “The fuck are you talking about Yoongi?”

The man shook his head however and sat up, eyes now open and pinning Jungkook with his cool and calm stare. “Alright fearless leader.” He said as the others began to trail in minus Namjoon.

Jungkook frowned in his direction, effectively silencing his elder friend as Taehyung helped Hoseok gingerly sit on the sofa on the other side of me. Jimin sat at the corner table, eyes darting around anxiously as he fiddled with the cellphone he’d turned off earlier in the evening.

“Joon?” He asked, the question directed at me.

“Working on a barricade for the garage.” I answered as I handed Hoseok a pillow so that he could prop his injured leg on the coffee table.

“Good. Jimin you said you’d taken stock of our supplies?” Jungkook turned when Jimin yelped at his name being called.

“Ah yeah um…” He pulled the notepad from the large front pocket of his scrubs, flipping through the pages until he’d come to the list he’d made at my request.

“We have enough food to last the 8 of us as least six months down there. And three years worth of MRE’s per person.” He gulped as he flipped to the next page, squinting at his doctor’s chicken scratch as if he was having trouble reading his own handwriting. “Medical supplies are good to go so long as we don’t end up having to do anything like major surgery. But that’s just what we have downstairs. I’m sure the rest of the house is plenty stocked with supplies.”

Jungkook nodded,seeming to have taken mental note of everything that Jimin’d said. He turned to Yoongi who’d finally seemed to sober up to the situation.

“Weapons and ammo?” Jungkook asked, his voice firm as he checked the gun in his hip holster as a reflex.

“Everything’s good on that end. We’ve got plenty of the larger rounds. Small ammo’s been scarce around here lately but we’ve got a couple hundred 22’s. The extended clips for the semi’s y/n ordered last month finally came in, those are in the vault downstairs.” Yoongi tugged on his ear lobe, seeming to lose himself in thought for a moment.

“There’s also the C4 and those hand grenades you ordered but didn’t tell us about.”

I shot Jungkook a look, brow furrowed in anger as my suspicions raised. “The hell you need fucking C4 for?” I demanded, my voice almost shrill in the silent room.

“Doesn’t matter now. Pretty sure the Fire Fangs were caught up in that hospital bullshit. Apparently their leader was one of the first one bit. Had them all up there worried and shit when the shit hit the fan.” Jungkook scoffed at their idiocy, turning to the living room door to acknowledge Namjoon who’d just entered the room.

“Barrier’s up and the door’s secure Sir.” He brushed some of the hair out of his face, revealing a small burn mark on the back of his hand.

“Jesus hyung, the hell did you do?” Jimin jumped up from his chair, grabbing the elder man’s hand and twisting it to examine the injury.

“Ah, burnt myself on the torch. No big deal it’s not important.” He tried to wave his younger friend off but to no avail.

“The hell it isn’t. With what’s going on out there I’m not risking any of you walking around with uncovered wounds.” Jimin waved to Hoseok’s now well bandaged leg before shaking the hand he still gripped.

“Go sit down I’ll be right back with some disinfectant and gauze.”

Namjoon did as he was told, walking over sheepishly to sit in the chair Jimin had just been in. The boys were used to this. Jimin turning from shy young boy into authoritative doctor at the mere mention of an injury. His ability to stay calm in an emergency was what made him the best in his industry, and also why we kept him around.

Taehyung, who’d been quiet all this time finally spoke up, having been huddled in a corner with his eyes glued to his phone for most of the conversation.

“So boss, you gonna tell them what we’re up against? They’re gonna need to know at some point or another. They need to know what to be ready for.”

Throughout his short speech his eyes never left the multiple camera views flashing across the screen of his phone. He’d been a security agent before. Eyes trained to spot any threat no matter the video quality on his feeds and reflexes honed to perfection just like the other men to respond quickly and accordingly.

Jungkook ran his hands through his hair, fingertips combing his bangs over his eyes for a moment before brushing the strands back off his forehead. The unruly strands just fell back into place though, casting a haunting shadow over his eyes that sent a chill racing down my spine.

“Fuckin hell man…” He leaned up against the wall, using the edge of the wall mounted plasma screen to scratch at an itch on his shoulder as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“We were heading back from the botanical gardens. Hooked up with Tae at the public library when we heard screaming.”

“Screaming?” I asked and Jungkook shot me a gruff growl for interrupting.

“Yeah screaming. Sounded like it was coming from the middle school behind the library.”

“Apparently people starting to get evacuated from all the major buildings. Government telling the civilians to get home and stay safe.” Hoseok grunted as he shifted his injured leg to get more comfortable.

“The fucking looting had already started, and really can you blame folks? Chaos means free money, we shoulda took the chance when we had it and ran.” Jungkook scoffed at the idea, glaring down at Hoseok who managed to look sheepish under his leader’s glower.

“Look man, a little kid got pushed down. The crowd around us was going wild coming from the school and the little girl was cryin for her momma.” Hoseok shrugged, picking at the lint on his shirt sleeve.

“Hoseok, ever the hero picked the kid up and was runnin with her when the kid started freaking out. Yellin that she saw her moms and tryin to get Hobi to put her down.” Jungkook’s face all this time had begun to turn pale. Even in the bright lights of the living room it seemed like all the blood was draining away from his face.

“Hoseok couldn’t hold her anymore. Dropped the kid when he tripped over a curb. Girl went running right into her momma’s arms. Who promptly picked her up and bit her fucking face off.” Tae’s voice was cold from the corner and his statement caused everyone to freeze. I could hear Namjoon gagging from the corner and Jimin had chosen that exact moment to come back from his supply run. The bottle of rubbing alcohol dropped from his hand as he stared between us all.

“Are you serious? How the hell could a mom even do that?” His voice came out as barely a whisper as he bent to retrieve the fallen bottle.

“ ‘S cause she wasn’t that girl’s momma no more.” Tae answered. He looked up from his phone to bore his heated gaze into each one of us. “Bitch turned. Turned into whatever the fuck the government’s calling those fucking creatures.”

“That’s about when we noticed that literally all around us people were just...eating each other.” Hobi shivered as he wrapped his arms around himself and I reached over with a trembling hand to try and rub some comfort back into his chilled skin.

“We ran. Trying to get back to the car without getting bit or having to hurt anyone. But a car came blasting through the intersection, knocked Hobi off his feet and busting up his leg and smashing right into a group of people just trying to escape.” Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair again, a clear sign of his barely restrained fear and anxiety.

Hoseok glared down at his fists in his lap, clenching and unclenching his hands as if they had betrayed him. “If only I had kept hold of that kid. We could have saved her!”

The bodyguard had always prided himself as being able to protect anyone put into his care. His strength and agility gained from years as an underground street dancer had easily earned him a reputation that had gained him the attention of Jungkook and the respect of his fellow members.

To see him questioning himself now was both heartbreaking and terrifying.

“There was nothing you could do Hobi. Had you still had hold of that girl then both of you would have probably died stuck underneath the fucking car that hit you in the first place.” Jin, ever the voice of reason spoke up for the first time.

Hoseok looked over at his senior, eyes glazed over with tears and the memories that I’m sure would have haunted him for the rest of his life. The sound of a whimper tore his gaze away and the group of us turned to see Jimin finally treating Namjoon's burn.

“Ah hush, I've pulled bullets out of you worse than this little thing.” Jimin said through clenched teeth as he struggled to hold Namjoon's arm still.

“But it huuurrrtttsss.” Namjoon tried to pull his hand away once again, earning him a smack to the arm from a now irate Jimin.

“Quit acting like a child and let me treat this fucking thing.”

I shook my head at the two, attention turning back to Jungkook.

He seemed to have been watching the interaction between Namjoon and Jimin but as I watched his eyes glazed over and he swayed on his feet. I bolted up, racing over to his side and reaching him at the same time as Yoongi who I guess had been watching him as well.

“Woah, easy there bud.” Came Yoongi’s mutter as the two of us supported Jungkook’s wilted frame.

We led him over to the sofa, gingerly setting him down beside Hoseok who’d scooted over to make room for him.

“M fine guys step off.” But his half hearted arm waving didn’t deter either of us from putting his feet up on the coffee table and making him lean his head against the back ridge of the sofa.

“You’re obviously not fine babe. Or you wouldn’t have been on the verge of passing out on your feet like that just now.” My voice was firm as I patted his hand, my free hand reaching up to wipe the sweat from his brow and gently caress his cheek.

He closed his eyes, nuzzling into my touch with a quiet hum of comfort.

“Did he eat today?” I asked Hoseok who shook his head no.

“We were up early as hell and busy around lunch time, I know I ate breakfast but I don’t think he had anything.”

I cursed beneath my breath, shooting a glare in Jin’s direction. The elder man nodded at my glance,heading out of the room to begin working on dinner at my unspoken directive.

“How could you be so stupid Kookie?” I demanded quietly as I glared at his resting face.

“Didn’t think about it. Had work to do.” Came his muttered reply.

Shaking my head I stood, eyes darting around at the other figures who stood warily nearby.

This all felt so surreal, like I was watching my life be played out as a movie on the big screen. The attacks, the loss of power, and now the leader of our group basically out of commission because he’d let his blood sugar get too low.

Of course it was entirely possible he was suffering from shock, as that seemed to be the case for the other pale faces as well. It was rare for us to be gathered together like this and for the room to be so deathly quiet. Even Namjoon had quieted down from his whimpers of pain as Jimin wrapped his hand in a small bandage.

“What the hell are we going to do?” I asked to no one in particular as I stared listlessly at the snow filled TV screen.

“Nothing for now.” Came a quiet reply and my gaze snapped to the normally silent Taehyung.

“We wait, hope that the generators hold up until the cops and military can get a hold on things.” He shrugged as he looked up from his surveillance cameras.” Start turning off anything unnecessary to conserve power and make sure everything is properly locked and secure.”

“We’ve already done most of that…” I muttered as I planted my rear on the cool surface of the coffee table.

“Then just wait.” Tae returned his gaze to the security feed. His lips thinned into a hard pressed frown as he quickly tapped and expanded on one of the cameras.

“Tae? What is it?” I asked, voice laced with worry as I watched his eyes harden.

“There’s someone outside on the front lawn. And I don’t like the way they’re moving.”

[sad-goomy]

31 days...31 chapters...This October, coming to Ao3, it’s

the BtVS!AU for the SuMo squad that no one asked for, including...

Lonashipping, Snowlilyshipping, and more romantic entanglements!

Found Family, All Myths Are True, and other tropes!

A song for every chapter!

The impending apocalypse!

And more!

Want a preview? Here’s the first chapter under the cut!

“Is this the Slayer?”

Moon blinks, head still foggy from sleep. She checks the caller ID and sure enough, someone’s calling her from Sun’s phone at four in the morning. Stifling a yawn, she sits up in bed and rubs her eyes, fighting the urge to simply hang up and go back to sleep. “Who’s asking?”

She hasn’t been called that title in a very long time, and it’s been a while since she’s received a vague threat over the phone. The mysterious voice on the other end of the line disregards her question, though, and instead says, “If you ever want to see your brother again, come to the shopping center on Melemele.”

She frowns, realizing that there’s an evil force holding her younger brother hostage, one who will probably wage a fight in which the balance of good and evil will be at stake.

“Keep him.”

And she hangs up, falling back on her bed with a loud groan. For a moment, she seriously considers going back to sleep, because she technically isn’t a Slayer anymore and she does have work in a few hours.

But she knows her mom would kill her if anything happened to Sun, and that would make Thanksgiving awkward, so she stands and walks to her dresser, muttering four-letter words under her breath. She opens the bottom drawer and takes out the metal box that she swears she’ll throw out tomorrow.

Opening it, Moon sighs as she looks at the vials of holy water and silver trinkets, eventually settling on taking out one of the wooden stakes.

"Damn it, Sun.”

----------

Somehow, this isn’t the worst situation Sun has found himself in.

Sure, he’s tied to a folding chair in Melemele’s only mall, watching his captor, a vampire, pace across the stage used for events. And yes, the phone call with his sister was alarmingly short and definitely didn’t seem to involve any promises of actually coming.

But it’s not as bad as the gym incident in high school.

The vampire stops his pacing, instead deciding to lean against the wall with crossed arms and stare blankly ahead with sharp green eyes. At least, Sun assumes he has two eyes; the choppy haircut covers nearly half his face. Besides the initial kidnapping and ensuing interrogation in which Sun was all too happy to drop the fact that his older sister is a Slayer, the vampire hasn’t spoken to him. He seems content to wait in silence, though as the minutes tick by he grows increasingly frustrated.

Sun looks around the room, also frustrated, but with just how boring this is all turning out to be – for a life-threatening situation, there’s a lot more waiting involved than he’s used to.

���So,” he drawls, catching the vampire’s attention. “Come here often?”

His captor arches an eyebrow. “Are you seriously trying to make small talk?”

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugs, looking around the room and confirming that there really is nothing for him to try and amuse himself with in this empty mall. “We’re gonna be here a while, what with travel time, and we haven’t really gotten a chance to chat.”

The vampire scowls, taking a few steps forward as he snaps, “Is your entire family this nonchalant?”

“On my mom’s side.” Sun smirks, adding, “Besides, this isn’t exactly my first hostage situation. Granted, taking me to the mall is an interesting move -”

“It isn’t?”  

There’s genuine surprise, mixed with horrified fascination, in the vampire’s voice. Sun grins. “Well, it’s always a little embarrassing to share my number, but we’re up to thirteen now.” The blond scoffs at him, and Sun notices the curtains of the wings are moving a little. He sits back, continuing, “You never forget your first, though. Oh man, I was fourteen and so naïve - ‘course I’ve learned a thing or two since then.”

Looking absolutely unconvinced, the vampire drawls, “Such as?”

The curtains stop moving. Sun smirks, leaning forward with an impish spark in his eyes. The vampire seems to notice his shift in energy and stiffens, only able to pick up on the sound and scent a second too late.

“Such as ‘keep the bad guys distracted so your sister can ambush them.’”

And when the vampire turns, he’s greeted with a roundhouse kick to the face before being pinned to the stage by a woman half his size. Her silver eyes and black hair match her brother’s, but while he seemed thoroughly entertained by this situation, she looks nearly livid. Her freckles dance as she sneers.  

“You rang?”

He struggles under her grip, realizing that the Slayer strength he’s heard about is no joke. With a quick jerk of his legs he manages to throw her off balance and turn the tables, though his pride is still bruised that she managed to get the jump on him (and in her pajamas, no less). “I’m not going to fight you,” he growls, managing to keep his hold on her.

Moon stops struggling for a moment, and he’s about to continue when she narrows her eyes. “That makes my job easier.”

One swift move of her leg later and he’s rolling off her, clutching at his groin as he bites back moans of pain.

Sun winces at the sight. “Is kicking vampires in the balls a new technique, or...?” His sister’s glare silences him, and he’s not looking forward to the lecture she’ll deliver once she unties him.

The vampire manages to open his eyes when he feels the point of a stake on his chest, right above where his no longer beating heart lies. She digs her knee into his solar plexus, keeping him pinned as she leans in. “Give me one good reason to not kill you.”

He holds her stare, his face growing calm. “I didn’t kill your brother.”

She barks a humorless laugh. “No, you just held him hostage, how thoughtful.”

“I knew you wouldn’t talk to me otherwise.”

They stare at each other, neither of them willing to flinch as Moon considers his answer. Deciding that he’s right, and that she’s not feeling particularly stab-y right now, she mutters, “Start talking.”

“Alola needs a Slayer.”

And just like that she’s feeling stab-y, raising the stake to strike as she growls, “That’s it -”

“Wait!”

Moon freezes, and the two turn their heads to look at Sun. He bites his lip, knowing he has to step delicately around the topic with his sister. “I mean, he has a point,” he explains slowly, looking between the two, “You seem to be the only one around here, and things have been getting weird.”

She hates that he’s right – back in Kanto, she’d known at least three other Slayers who could take care of threats while she was still training. Here in Alola, however, she has yet to encounter any, and though she’s sworn off her years as a Slayer, it seems that the dark magic threatening the region has only multiplied.

Sensing her hesitance, the vampire beneath her speaks up. “I have ample reason to suspect that Alola, and the world, is about to face its biggest threat from Lusamine Aether, and I can help.”

With a frown, Moon stands, keeping her stake pointed at him as he follows suit, arms raised in a show of surrender, though his gaze is merciless.

Sun raises a brow, lost in thought. “The environment lady? Isn’t her deal all about saving the whales?”

“She isn’t as she appears,” the vampire snaps, unable to roll his eyes because he needs to keep his focus on the stake-happy Slayer in front of him.

Moon’s eyes narrow in suspicion, her mind trying to connect dots that she only knows the vague outlines of. “And how do you know all this?”

“My name is Gladion – Gladion Aether.”

The similarities hit the siblings like a sixteen-wheeler; the genetics are so shockingly similar that they almost feel stupid for not realizing sooner, especially when Lusamine’s image is plastered everywhere after her organization became the savior of Alola’s natural resources.

Gladion continues, slow and methodical and all too aware of the weight of his words, “My own mother turned me, and she will stop at nothing to end the world.”

This is the moment when Moon realizes where she fits into this equation.

After a ten-year hiatus, she’s not only going to have to reclaim her title as Slayer in full, but the only things standing between the world and the apocalypse are her, her reckless brother, and a vampire she just kicked in the balls.

She rubs her temples with a sigh, feeling a headache coming on.

“I need so much coffee right now.”

----------

As vampires have no souls, they become pure id. Their emotions know no limits, and they have no conscience to temper their actions. Therefore, trusting a vampire, no matter how rational they may seem, is unadvisable and should be done in only the most extreme cases by experienced Slayers.

Doctor Gramtapen’s Grimoire, 6th Edition

----------

Two cups of coffee and a long explanation in her apartment’s living room later, and Moon can definitively say that the universe is doomed.

Sun, ever the optimist, sips from a mug and goes over his notes with a self-satisfied smirk. “So all we have to do is find your sister, she’ll tell us the details she found about your mom’s plans, and then we bust in there and stop her once and for all.” He looks up at the other two seated at Moon’s dining table, far too bright-eyed for six in the morning and post-kidnapping. “How hard can it be?”

His sister opens her mouth to answer with an adamant ‘very’, but Gladion beats her to it. “I have a lead on Lillie’s location, so the sooner we can track her, the better our odds are.”

Another line is added to Sun’s notes, scrawled hastily on some loose paper that Moon had lying around, with a pencil he found in a kitchen drawer. “Right, and we’ll probably need all the backup we can get, considering we’ve never dealt with a combination witch-vampire – oh, we should totally tell Hau and -”

“And I’m gonna stop you right there.” Moon sets down her mug, sliding it across the table as her gaze slides to the vampire that she’s allowed to enter her apartment against her better judgement. “Listen Blondie -”

“Gladion,” he corrects, the corner of his lips threatening to lift into a smirk.

If looks could kill and he weren’t undead, her glare would be sending him exactly six feet under. “Did I stutter?” She rolls her eyes, standing with her hands on the table as she mutters, “I’ve been out of the game for a decade, so I’m not stoked to kick off a come-back tour with taking down a Big Bad and preventing the apocalypse. Besides, I still don’t trust you.”

Gladion’s chair scrapes against the floor as he stands, and it’s frankly unfair that he has nearly a foot on her, glaring down at her like she’s a misbehaving child. “You don’t have a choice.”

Sun forces a laugh, standing slowly and sensing the rising temperature of the room. “Let’s slow down for a second.”  

He places a hand on Moon’s arm, and she huffs but follows his lead to a few feet away (and she doesn’t bother pointing out that the vampire can definitely still hear them). Sun picks his words carefully, leaning in and whispering, “I’m not saying hold his hand and sing ‘Kumbaya,’ but there’s no way he’s lying about all of this.”

She raises a brow. “He’s a vampire – all they do is drink blood and lie.”

“He didn’t drink mine.” Moon nearly argues, but she stops short; it’s admittedly rather shocking that a vampire would have enough wits about them to not immediately drain a human, much less negotiate with a Slayer. Sun chances a glance back at Gladion, who’s decided to study the magnets on Moon’s fridge with a frown. “Besides, if even half of what he says is true, we need his help to stop it.”

But she certainly doesn’t have to be happy about it. She scrutinizes her brother for a moment longer, but he holds her gaze, just as stubborn as she is. He’s right, and they both know it, and she figures this is probably the universe’s retribution for her shirking Slayer duty.

With a groan, she turns and takes a few steps towards Gladion, who leans against the fridge and watches her. “I’m going to be late to work so I’m only going to say this once: if you want me to help you, then you have to earn my trust.”

“And how do you propose I do that?”

She points to the couch with a smirk. “Congratulations, you live here now.” His eyes ignite and he opens his mouth, but she cuts him off with her own annoyance, “It’s the best way I can keep an eye on you and see if you’re really on the straight and narrow. If not, I have a stake with your name on it.”

Turning on her heel, she misses the absolute indignation that seeps into Gladion’s face. Just when her hand is on the doorknob to her bedroom, he scoffs. “I’m not going to be babysat!”

She rolls her eyes as she opens the door, turning to face him with a scowl. “You don’t have a choice, Gladbag.”

“Gladion.”

“Did I fucking stutter.”  

And she slams the door behind her, effectively ending the conversation and leaving Gladion to glower by the fridge, hands clenched into fists and mind devising seventeen different ways to end the Slayer.

Sun coughs, offering a nervous smile that withers under the vampire’s glare.

“I think she likes you.”

----------

Her vision is going dark around the edges, a mess of fuzzy circles dancing in the shadows as she coughs. It feels like her lung might come up. She peels herself off the concrete, and a gravelly voice laughs at her shaking body.

“Like I said, lil Slayer.” She struggles to keep herself up on her elbows, sneakers coming into view as a figure crouches, bloodshot eyes and a crazed smile too close to her.

“You came to the wrong neighborhood.”

Moon.

“Moon?”

She flinches back in the chair she’s settled into in the pharmacy’s back room. A dull thud sounds as her head hits the wall, and she remembers to pretend it hurts, rubbing it as she glances up at her coworker.

Ipo looks down at her with an understanding smile; however, there must be something troubling in Moon’s face, because the other pharmacist’s brows furrow and she asks, “Bad dream?”

“Something like that...” It’s been a few years since she’s had a prophetic vision, but the feeling of dread lingering in her stomach confirms it. She does her best to shake it off, to not think about how at some point in the future, she’s going to end up bloody and bruised in a place she doesn’t recognize with someone taunting her.

Moon clears her throat, giving Ipo a sheepish smile as she stands. “Sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Ipo tilts her head, still concerned as they walk out of the back room and back towards the counter, their break officially over. “Why’s that?”

My brother got kidnapped by a vampire who revealed that his mom is planning to bring about the apocalypse.

“I got a roommate.” Moon takes her place at the counter, stretching out her back and hearing a satisfying pop.

“Oh wow,” Ipo mumbles conversationally, leaning her elbows against the counter as she looks out at the empty pharmacy. “What’re they like?”

Bloodthirsty and dangerous.

Mysterious and morally ambiguous.

Just a straight up asshole.

But then this is all based on a strange first impression, and Sun’s insistence that there’s something different about the vampire scratches at the back of her mind. With a sigh, Moon settles on the one objective fact that she can tell Ipo without revealing the existence of magic or sounding judgmental.

“Blond.”

Close enough.

[kimjoongs-main]

first love! au - jaemin

↳ based off of this idea i had

↳ type: bullet scenario

↳ warning(s): n/a

↳ a/n: the amount of hw i could’ve finished instead of making this :’)

okay let’S GO

we all know how passionate is jaemin when it comes to volunteering and giving back to the community

so imagine him volunteering weekly at a daycare center near his neighborhood

he absolutely loves and adores all the children he meets and acts like a big brother figure to them

his reason for helping out in the daycare in the first place is that when he was younger, his mom would put him in a daycare and bc she had to work, and he remembers the older boys and girls who volunteered there when he was just a kid

he remembers how nice they were and the way they treated him, especially the boy who would always secretely give him a piece of candy every time he came in, and he remembers the sweet girl who would always boop his nose and ruffle his hair

jaemin wanted to reciprocate their love and affection to the kids at the daycare so that’s why when he first heard from renjun that they needed more people, jaemin jumped on that train so quick

now he’s been helping out at the daycare (w jeno, renjun, and hyuck as well) for about a year and a half

the kids absolutely admire him and would always cheer whenever they see jaemin walk in

the people who work at the daycare were very impressed at jaemin’s ability to memorize every single child’s face and name and even remember little things about them

and when a new child joins, jaemin easily makes them feel welcome by hovering around them and asking them to join in on games

he’ll tie back a little girl’s hair or give her a cute braid and he’ll give a little boy a piggyback ride around the center just to hear him laugh

also you better believe jaemin’s fiercely protective of these kids,,,like fiercely protective

one time a little girl named minji tripped and scraped her knee, she only let out one small cry and jaemin was already sprinting across the room, reaching little minji and scooping her up in his arms, gently tucking her head into his neck and quietly shushing her

he then proceeded to clean the scrape so it doesn’t get infected, all while carrying minji in his arms, and then after he read her a story to help her fall asleep soundly in his hold

renjun took a pic of this moment and jaemin loved it so much he made it his wallpaper

since jaemin’s super super good w the kids, the people at the daycare put him in charge of helping out the new volunteers and showing them how to do things

and that’s where you come in !! you’ve been desperately trying to find a place that takes volunteers bc you may or may not have made a stupid decision that almost got you suspended if it wasn’t for your parents pleading to the school to ease up the punishment

now instead of suspension, the school’s making you complete at least 200 hours of community service as a chance to “whip you into shape”

ofc you didn’t want to but it was better than getting suspended, so you reluctantly accepted the deal and now here you were, standing inside a daycare in front of a boy w peach pink hair and a smile too bright for your liking

“hi! you must be the new volunteer, my name’s jaemin and i’m in charge of helping you. nice to meet you!” he holds out his hand and you have to physically restrain yourself from flinching

you see, you weren’t the social type, the complete opposite actually, so you could already tell that this guy was someone you weren’t going to be all buddy buddy with

but you needed the hours so you just sucked it up and managed to send him your best smile and shook his hand

“nice to meet you too...i’m y/n” you replied quietly

right behind jaemin were three other boys who looked about the same age as him; one was currently painting a picture w a 4 year old girl, another was sitting on the floor w a group of kids and reading them a story, and the last one was running around the room chasing a little boy

jaemin looked over his shoulder to see what you were looking at and laughed “oh i should probably introduce you to everyone else. the one painting is renjun, the one on the floor is jeno, and the loud one is donghyuck”

you blinked at him as he gestured for you to follow him inside, which you did, but immediately regretted it when five children ran up to you and peered up at you curiously

they kept talking over each other, possibly trying to ask you a bunch of questions, and you felt overwhelmed

sensing your obvious discomfort, jaemin quickly moved over to stand next to you and clapped his hands, catching their attention

“okay kids that’s enough, y/n’s our newest helper so make be nice and welcoming okay? go on and play w the others, i’ll be right back”

and to your suprise, the kids responded back w a loud “yes nana” and left

jaemin looked at you sheepishly “sorry about that, they get really excited when a new person comes by since it’s usually us four that come in”

“it’s only the four of you volunteering here? i would’ve thought there’d be more”

jaemin sent you a sad smile as he showed you to the back room where he gestured for you to sit on the leather chair as he sat across from you

“i thought the same too, but whenever new people come they tend to leave pretty quickly after” “why?”

he sent you another sad smile “they find it difficult to take care of the kids. my friends and i are the ones who’ve volunteered the longest, so the center’s pretty grateful for us”

your heart aches slightly at the revelation and you peer out the door to look at the children, heart aching even more as you see them running around and laughing

“so, what brings you here?” jaemin asked, and you winced at the question, causing him to raise his eyebrows

“i..um...i made a really stupid decision..and my school’s making me do community service to make up for it.”

jaemin let out a soft oh and you mentally slap yourself; great, this guy probably thinks i’m a terrible person who’s only here bc i’m forced to, which technically isn’t a lie but—

“do you like kids, y/n?” jaemin’s next question interrupted your train of thought and you blink before it fully registered in your brain

“oh uh..yeah i do actually. i just..i’m not...very social..so i don’t know how to act around them yet.”

jaemin nodded his head at your answer, a serious look on his face, before he broke out into a soft smile and walked over to you, placing his hand gently on your shoulder

“well that’s good enough for me! listen, i know you probably think that i think you’re a bad person bc of the reason you’re here, but trust me when i say stuff like that doesn’t matter to me. just the fact that you came here instead of somewhere else says a lot. i’ll be here to help you out if you need it, so don’t worry y/n. i’ll make sure you not only complete your required hours, but that you also have fun doing it.”

jaemin grinned once more before he turned around and walked out “i’m gonna grab your uniform really quick, so stay put!”

you just sat there staring at the door in shock at what you just heard...it was the first time someone’s been that nice and nonjudgmental towards you

you glanced down at the comm. service log sheet in your hands and sighed “maybe....this won’t be so bad”

for the next few weeks, you and jaemin are practically glued to each other as he helps you get into the swing of things

as expected, you fumble a couple of times, but jaemin is always there to help you back up and even offers some advice so you don’t make the same mistake

since you two spend a lot of time together, it was inevitable that you two would grow close pretty quickly, and not just jaemin, but renjun, jeno, and donghyuck too

you sometimes found yourself being invited to hang out w them outside of the daycare and it’s so..refreshing to be around them

as the weeks pass, you also slowly become fond of the kids and vice versa; you’re especially fond of a little boy named juhyun who loves to hold your hand every chance he gets

and as jaemin watches you play w the kids, he can’t help but smile at how much more comfortable you’ve become, not just w him, his friends, or the kids, but w yourself too; he can tell you’re rlly enjoying your time here

and as you two spend more time together, and learn more things about each other, you two can’t deny the feelings brewing in the depths of your heart

jaemin’s kind, and self-less personality is what drew you to him and your willingness to learn and awkward, yet endearing nature is what drew jaemin to you

he was never rlly quite sure what his feelings for you were, until he witnessed something about you he’s never seen before

there was a new volunteer at the daycare and as usual jaemin was in charge of showing him around; you were playing w juhyun when jaemin left for a bit to grab the new guy’s uniform

at first everything was normal, but then you heard little areum start crying and your head whipped up so fast; areum was sitting next to a pile of toppled blocks and the new guy was standing next to her, glaring

“quit your crying, your block tower was in my way” his sharp tone caused areum to cry even louder

appalled, you stood up and made your way over to areum, carefully picking her up in your arms and tried to calm her down; you sent a glare to the new guy “what was that for? she’s just a little girl, you don’t have to be so rude”

the guy rolled his eyes “she’s annoying that’s what”

“if she’s so annoying then why don’t you leave? it’s obvious you don’t get along w kids so why are you even here?”

the guy stepped closer to you “you can’t tell me what to do”

“but i can” you breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of jaemin’s voice, and the guy whipped around

jaemin was standing there w a bright grin on his face, but the way he was clenching the uniform in his hands told you that he wasn’t actually happy

“here at the daycare, we put the well-being of the children as our first priority and ensure that they are safe and happy. however, since you’ve shown behavior that goes against that policy, i’m afraid i’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

the guy scoffed, but left w/o a word, knowing that this was a fight he couldn’t win

when jaemin came back, he saw you kneeling in front of areum, gently cradling her face and wiping away her tears, and he felt his heart clench tightly at the sight

the worry on your face and the way you held areum as if she were a fragile piece of glass solidified his feelings for you

however, he was still unsure of how to express those feelings to you

and unbeknownst to him, you felt the same exact way :’)

a few more months pass and one day jaemin decided to walk you home from the daycare

on your way there, he asks you the comm. service hours thing is going and you falter a bit, biting your bottom lip shyly

jaemin, as perceptive as ever, quickly notices and asks if you’re okay

you stop walking and sigh, looking up and locking eyes w him; your heart skips a beat when you take in his iridescent eyes, twinkling as they reflect the light of the moon, you could get lost in them forever

“jaemin, there’s something i need to tell you...” you pause and he nods, urging you to continue “my community service hours...i completed all 200 hours a few weeks ago”

his eyes widen in surprise “seriously?! wait, if that’s the case then you don’t have to volunteer at the daycare anymore right?” you nod your head slowly “......then, why?”

you take a deep breath as you force yourself to step closer to him; jaemin gulps when you do so, but doesn’t make any move to stop you

“well it’s simple, i’ve fallen in love” jaemin felt his heart stop and his breath caught in his throat

“i’ve fallen in love w the kids, they’re my absolute world now and i would do anything for them. i’ve fallen in love w the daycare, it’s my safe haven. i’ve fallen in love with little juhyun who keeps falling asleep on me. but most importantly...” you step closer “...i’ve fallen in love with you, na jaemin”

jaemin’s chest fills with so much happiness and adoration for you as your words register through his brain. his beautiful bright smile appeared on his face, and you can’t help but smile back

and that’s all it takes for jaemin to close the tiny gap btwn the two of you; he brings his hands up and gently cups your cheeks as his lips land softly on top of yours

the kiss is sweet and so jaemin-like that you feel your stomach doing all kinds of flips and tricks; you reach out and grab onto his jacket, tugging him closer to you as the kiss deepens

you two break apart when the need for air becomes apparent, but jaemin leans forward and rests his forehead against yours

“that’s funny, bc i’ve fallen in love with all of those things too” you start blushing “except for juhyun tho, that little guy needs to back off”

you giggle at the playful glare on his face and jaemin’s expression softens at the sound; he plants another kiss on your lips and...let’s just say your parents weren’t too happy when you came back home after the sun went down :’)

the next day, you and jaemin walked in the daycare hand-in-hand, receiving knowing looks from renjun and jeno, and a loud whoop from hyuck

and when the kids saw you and jaemin sneak in a quick kiss, chaos ensued

“jaemin and y/n sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!” “jaemin just kissed y/n!!” “eww they’re kissing”

you just laugh and scold the kids for their teasing, and jaemin kisses you again for fun

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

Impossible: Part 5

Summary: Prompt: ‘I’m a superhero and you’re my arch nemesis but we don’t know each other’s identities and we’re actually best friends’ You’re best friends with Bucky, although you know him as James Ranier. He’s your best friend, too, but he has no idea you’re actually Shade, a woman who plagues the reformed Winter Soldier’s life as his arch nemesis. You faint from blood loss in the Avengers compound and the heroes themselves have to decide what to do with you. Gabe’s life and your own hinges on their decision. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Mutant!Reader Warnings: Violence, Swearing (always), blood, angst Word Count: ~3,451 A/N: Angst. So much angst. And yelling. Poor Bucky. Poor reader. This is for @bookybuns fic fest! This chapter was inspired by Alone Together by Fall Out Boy.

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

“-Have information on Shadow. USB in purse will prove it. Help my brother, I’ll get you the rest,” you hissed, your right hand clutching at your left shoulder- you couldn’t feel it.

You remembered looking down at your shoulder. It was red. Very red. You also remembered voices, though you couldn’t make out the words.

“Please,” you said. Or at least, you meant to. You couldn’t tell if you got the words out.

Then, everything went black.

Bucky’s POV

Bucky watched as you collapsed on the kitchen floor, shirt half red with your own blood. Steve immediately checked on you while Nat went to your purse, fishing through it until she pulled out the USB you’d mentioned. Sam was calling the med ward, warning them that Steve was bringing you to them and that you’d been shot and lost a lot of blood.

Bucky couldn’t move. He didn’t know what to do.

You were supposed to be normal. Well, maybe not normal. You’d always been extraordinary, but you were supposed to be a civilian.

You made him feel normal... like he wasn’t an ex-assassin turned hero. When he was around you he simply felt like a man. A good man, even.

The betrayal stung his lungs. He found it hard to breathe. He wanted to help (Y/N). Get her to the med ward and sit by her side until she came to, but he wanted to drag Shade to an interrogation room and work Shadow’s innermost dealings from her mind.

His two lives had come together in the worst possible way and it had left Bucky in a free fall, unable to process the events.

He didn’t hear Natasha call his name the first few times. He watched numbly as Steve left the room with (Y/N)-Shade in his arms. It was only after they’d disappeared around the corner that Bucky became aware of Natasha in front of him, calling his name.

“Bucky! Snap out of it!” she said, snapping her fingers in his face. “Get your shit together. We don’t have time for this,” she ordered. Although her words were harsh, her tone was surprisingly understanding. “We need to find out if she’s telling the truth, and you know her better than anyone,” Nat said, holding up the USB that allegedly held Shadow intel.

“Do I?” he asked, his voice raspy as though he hadn’t used it years.

Natasha slumped, a large sigh leaving her lips. “Yes, you do. You know more about her than the SHIELD database, at least. For all of her alleged years alive, she sure as hell is hard to track down. We have-”

“Nothing, I know,” he said quietly. “Just basic height and weight and fighting patterns. Whatever Steve and I got over the years,” Bucky said, glaring past Natasha, mind beginning to wander down darker paths.

“Hey, hey. Focus. It’s not your fault. Even I would have been fooled if you hadn’t told us your suspicions earlier. It’s not your fault,” she said, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.

The comforting gesture snapped his attention back to the present and he heaved out a huge sigh.

“Stark and Banner will be here soon. Everyone else is still out on missions and won’t be back for a few days at least,” Sam said quietly. Bucky had almost forgotten he was there. “If what she said is true, time is of the essence. Something about her brother, right? I doubt she’ll help us if he gets blown to bits,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the kitchen island.

“Was she telling the truth about that?” Nat asked, raising en eyebrow at Bucky.

“I think it’s true that Gabe’s really her brother. I’m not sure about the whole chip-in-the-brain thing, though,” Bucky said, wiping a hand over his face. Today was definitely a top five contender on his list of Worst Days Ever, and he’d been kidnapped, tortured, and fallen hundreds of feet off of a speeding train.

“Then we better figure out what’s on that USB, and fast,” Sam said, nodding his head towards the tech lab.

“Sam and I can handle this. You should... be there when she wakes up,” Nat said, frowning as she studied Bucky’s face, looking for a reaction.

Bucky looked from Natasha to Sam and back before he nodded, expression severe. “Fine, but only because she’s most likely to talk to me and I don’t wanna leave Steve and the doctors alone with her,” he said quietly. He didn’t wait for a response from the other two before he exited the kitchen and made his way up two floors to the medical center.

Your POV

Consciousness returned to you in pieces. First, your hearing returned. Your foggy brain incorporated the sound of doctors talking and working into a melancholy day dream.

Then, your sense of feeling returned. A finger twitched and you were suddenly aware you were awake, not dreaming.

You opened an eye a crack and blinding white light flooded your vision so you quickly shut it again. You tried to move your arm so you could block out the light with a hand, but you realized you couldn’t move your arm at all. You opened your eyes fully, wincing against the light, and took in your surroundings. It became apparent immediately why exactly you couldn’t move your arms. All of your limbs had been cuffed to the bed frame and a thick leather strap around your chest kept you even more firmly in place.

An IV was hooked up to the back of your hand and you stared at it in disgust. You hated needles. Hospitals, too. You looked at your shoulder and assessed the damage. It seemed that the bleeding had stopped and the fact that you couldn’t feel anything meant they had you on some high end pain killers. What you could make out, however, was a mountain of gauze. 

Done with your self assessment, you turned your attention to the room around you. It was a high-tech hospital room, that also seemed to double as a prison cell. Great.

Doctors and nurses milled about, occasionally stopping to talk to the two huge men in the room who stuck out like sore thumbs.

Steve Rogers and... Bucky Barnes, your best friend and arch nemesis.

Bucky must have sensed your gaze because his head turned and his eyes locked with yours. Steve was talking to him, but Bucky didn’t seem to hear him. You swore the room went quiet around you as you stared back at him. You willed him to understand even though you knew it was impossible. He tore his gaze from you and turned to Steve, his face twisted in rage.

“I shouldn’t be here, Steve,” he growled, staring down the blond man.

Steve sighed, running a hand over his face in exhaustion. “We need you here, Buck. Shade has always been your area of-”

“I don’t care, Steve! I didn’t sign up for this!” he yelled. His anger hadn’t gotten the better of him in years, but the recent events had set him back years; towards his darker days. The doctors and nurses were frozen, staring at Bucky and Steve in shock. He seemed to realize the tension his outburst had caused and he quickly mumbled apologies to the staff.

You wanted to comfort him- Your best friend. But now, with his metal arm out in the open, you were violently reminded he wasn’t your best friend. Not anymore. You were about to speak up and ask them about progress when the doors opened and someone you hadn’t expected to see walked in.

“Alright, so I have a few questions for the mysterious immortal woman. How exactly did you get this information? I’m Tony Stark, by the way,” he said, completely ignoring the other people in the room. He tapped away at the tablet computer in his hands, eyes scanning the information on its surface as he made his way over to you.

Steve turned, surprised by Tony’s sudden entrance. When his eyes landed on your conscious form his expression turned severe and he walked over to you and Tony, Bucky trailing reluctantly behind.

“I know who you are,” you said, rolling your eyes at him. He was just as pompous as you thought he’d be.

“Yes, I’m very famous, Blah blah blah, how did you get this information?” he asked, tone more severe than you’d ever heard it on TV. He held the tablet out in front of your face and you glanced at it. On the screen were blueprints you’d secretly gotten copies of. Very high tech, very deadly. It was just the tip of the iceberg if your data mining skills were to be trusted.

“Shadow servers. Not a lot of people have access. Even I only have limited access: I’m nothing but a tool to them... but I’m a damn good hacker. Their security is truly top notch. I only have enough time to download a little information at a time, and that’s part of the most recent cache. They’re planning something big, but I’m not paid the big bucks. I don’t know what their endgame is... but I might be able to find out,” you said, glancing between the three of them as you spoke. Your gaze lingered on Bucky more often than it should have. Looking at him hurt each time. “For a price, of course,” you said, gaze hardening.

“You’re strapped to a chair with a bullet hole in your shoulder and a rap sheet longer than this room is tall and you want to negotiate?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow. “That is bold. And, if I may say, imbecilic.”

“I’m your only lead. You’ve been tracking Shadow for years and haven’t come even close to cracking the organization. I would know,” you said, tone blunt. “You. Need. Me. And you’re wasting time. My price has an expiration date. If my brother dies I can guarantee you won’t like what comes after,” you said, glaring at all of them. “Save my brother and I’ll tell you everything I know,” you said, head falling back onto your pillows. “Those are my terms,” you said, glaring at the ceiling.

“You said there was a chip in his brain? Something about explosives?” Steve asked, voice kinder than you expected it to be.

You nodded. “Shadow didn’t give me the details, but they did give me a grisly demonstration in the form of exploding the head of an agent who’d failed a mission. It’s remote detonation. The agent didn’t even see it coming. He’d thought he’d been given a second chance. Stupid bastard. Needless to say, I didn’t feel like testing if it’d work a second time on my brother,” you said quietly.

“I can work something out. I should be able to knock out the device with a short ranged-” Tony began, but you cut him off.

“’Should be’?” you asked, turning your head to glare up at him.

“If you’re looking for a guarantee, I can’t give that. Best I can do is an 87% chance of success,” Tony said jovially.

You were thankful for the painkillers. They made breaking your thumb from the pressure of pulling your hand out of your handcuff almost unnoticeable. Almost. You had Tony’s expensive tie in your grasp before Steve and Bucky even realized what was happening. You yanked it hard until his face was inches from yours.

“Do better than 87%, Mr. Stark,” you hissed, shoving him backwards as Bucky and Steve rushed forward to restrain you. You glared at him as he exited the room backwards, eyes locked with yours as he fixed his tie, eyes wide with fear. “And don’t you dare leave him in that fucking hospital!” You yelled just before the door shut.

“Damnit, Shade. Was that really necessary?” Bucky hissed, holding you down as Steve velcro-strapped your wrists and arms to the bed.

“Yes,” you growled. “And that’s not. My. Name,” you said, gaze locking onto his.

Steve glanced between the two of you and realized he wanted to be anywhere but there just then. “If Tony’s here it means Dr. Banner is probably back, too. I’m going to go get him. He might be able to clear up the whole mutant DNA thing,” he said hastily, exiting even quicker than Tony had.

Bucky merely grunted in acknowledgement as he glared at you intently. “I’m not calling you (Y/N),” he said, pulling up a chair so he could sit a few feet away from you; likely so that he was close enough to stop you quickly if need be.

“And why not? It’s my name,” you said grumpily. Your pain meds were wearing off and you were suddenly regretting breaking your thumb to get at Tony.

“Because it was a lie. You lied to me for years,” he said, glaring darkly at you.

You rolled your eyes at him. “And you didn’t lie to me?” you asked, temper short from how much pain you were in.

“That’s not the same,” he growled, tense in his seat.

“Isn’t it?” you asked, voice challenging. “I didn’t tell you about my time as Shade to keep you- no, James- safe from that life,” you said, wishing he’d understand. His steel blue eyes searched yours and you didn’t realize until that exact moment how much you missed your best friend. “I already lost my brother to them and I didn’t-” your voice died in your throat you and looked away from Bucky, unable to look him in the eye. “-I didn’t want to lose you, too,” you whispered.

“I just don’t know what I can believe anymore,” he said quietly. You turned your head back to look at him but his eyes were trained on the ground in front of him. “You weren’t... you were supposed to be normal,” he whispered, gaze lifting slowly until it met yours.

“So were you,” you said, sardonic smile on your lips.   

It looked like he was about to say something but the door to your room opened again and Natasha and Tony walked in, closely followed by Steve and someone you recognized as Doctor Bruce Banner.

“So?” Bucky asked them, tearing his gaze away from you.

“Intel looks good and it’s more than we’ve gotten in the last year. We can do some serious damage to Shadow on this information alone, not to mention what more like it would do,” Natasha informed him, tossing him hard copies of some of the information on the flash drive. He caught it, glancing through it briefly before Bruce spoke up, grabbing his attention.

“I’ve looked into the blood samples we got. Her genetic code really is irregular. It produces redundant systems and due to the mutation of proteins in her cells-”

“Bruce, I have a sinking feeling I’m not going to understand any of your explanation,” Bucky said, sighing as he leaned back in his chair.

Bruce looked to Tony, who shrugged. “I understood all of it perfectly earlier,” Tony said, sounding as though they’d been talking about something as simple as making baking soda volcanoes. Bruce looked to Natasha and Steve, who gave noncommittal shrugs.

“You could have just told me you didn’t understand what I was saying, guys,” Bruce said, sighing as he removed his glasses and rubbed his face in exhaustion.

“You and Tony were on a roll. Didn’t want to interrupt,” Natasha said, smiling fondly at the doctor who smiled shyly and shifted awkwardly at her attention.

“Well, what it boils down to is that Ms. (Y/L/N) really is immortal, as she claims. I can’t tell exactly how old she is from her bloodwork alone, but it is safe to say she could be thousands of years old,” Bruce said, looking as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was saying. 

“How rude. I’m only 934 for your information. The nerve of young men these days,” you said jokingly, grinning at all of them. They didn’t react. “Damn, tough crowd,” you mumbled, looking away from them to stare at the eggshell walls.

“So as far as we can tell, she’s telling the truth?” Steve asked, sounding dubious.

“It does seem that way, yes,” Natasha said, glancing between you and Bucky. You looked back at them in time to see Bucky nod in acknowledgement.

“Well now that that’s out of the way, your next step is clear. Get my brother out of Shadow’s grasp. Alive. I can’t be there; they’d see me coming a mile away. Not to mention I have a hole in my shoulder and a medication-fogged brain. You’ll have to disable the remote detonator somehow before you make a move on Gabe himself. As far as I know the hospital’s staff is clean. I doubt they have agents stationed inside.The problems come after you exit the hospital. They definitely have Gabe under observation. The second you show your hand they’ll move to stop you,” you said, voice almost militaristic in your instructions. You were looking at Bucky as you spoke, but he was avoiding your gaze, staring at the ground, seemingly lost in thought.

“I have an idea about disabling the chip. FRIDAY, can you get Wilson and his suit up to my lab asap? Make sure he brings that little drone. It’s important,” Tony spoke to the ceiling. An Irish brogue answered. An AI, it seemed.

“Right away, Mr. Stark,” it answered as Tony left the room with Bruce trailing after.

Bucky heaved out a sigh before he spoke up. “Natasha, Steve. You two and Wilson will be the ground team. I can’t go in, they’ll-”

“No,” you said obstinately, glaring at him.

He finally looked at you, blue-grey eyes boring into yours. “No?” he asked simply, seemingly shocked.

“You’re going,” You said, gaze hard.

“I’ll just put him in danger-” Bucky said, tone heating up. What right did you have to order him around?

“You’re the only one I trust with Gabe. Besides, if they knew you were The Soldier they would have killed Gabe ages ago... probably the first time I took you to visit him,” you said stubbornly. “You’re going,” you said again, jaw set.

Natasha and Steve looked at each other, unsure, watching your battle of wills.

“Steve, Nat. Go get the blueprints for the hospital and surrounding area and start coming up with an extraction plan,” he said, voice deadly quiet. They nodded and exited quickly, sensing the oncoming storm. The second the door shut Bucky spoke, anger barely controlled.

“You don’t give the orders around here, Shade,” Bucky spat, standing up suddenly.

“Oh stop throwing that sanctimonious shit in my face, James,” you hissed. He recoiled at the use of his name as though you’d slapped him. “Do you think I liked hurting people? You think I wanted to do any of the shit Shadow told me to do? I was a good person before Shadow sunk their festering claws into me! For the last hundred years I’ve held onto every scrap of sanity I could come by, hoping one day I’d be able to rescue my brother and escape Shadow! You don’t get to stand there and lecture me on right and wrong, James Buchanan Barnes! You can’t stand there and believe me beyond redemption with a past like yours!” you yelled, but it seemed like you’d crossed a line with the last thing you said.

He was bent over your bed in a flash, eyes alight with anger, fingers digging into the guard rails of the hospital bed. “Don’t you dare compare me to you! It’s exactly my past that makes me think you are beyond redemption!” he bellowed. The bed’s railings squealed as his metal hand crushed it. He released it suddenly, the metal warping dangerously before his fingers let go.

Your eyes didn’t leave Bucky’s, unwilling to back down. His gaze roamed your face as his chest heaved, adrenaline running through his veins. Without warning he turned and stormed out of the room, leaving you to dwell on his words.

Although the entire confrontation replayed itself in your head over and over again, one thought kept popping up.

Does he think himself beyond redemption? you wondered quietly, your only answer the beeping of machines.

Part 6

This series is finished, but if you want to be tagged in my other fics, check out  this post! Sorry, but responses to this post asking to be tagged will be ignored, so send me an ask or like one of the taglist posts!

☕ Buy Me a Coffee! ☕

[rrrawrf-writes]

nah, I'm kidding, 1 & 33 for the drabble thing, please!

i was growing concerned

1.  “That’s starting to get annoying.”

33.  “Are you sure that’s the decision you want to make?”

(tw for threatening someone’s pets?)

“That’s starting to get annoying.”

“Oh, really?” Winn gave the back of Rembrandt’s seat another hard kick. “Wouldn’t’ve -” kick “- guessed -” kick “- it.”

Rembrandt leaned forward, hissing as a bit of coffee splashed out of his travel mug and onto his wrist. Weston, in the driver’s seat, shot Rembrandt a sidelong look, and then glanced up at Winn in the rearview mirror. “You should really stop.”

“Shut up, you — prick.” Winn squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, his cuffed hands making an uncomfortable lump between his spine and the back of the seat. Weston had even buckled him in before they started driving. “Let me outta the bloody car.”

“Prison made him even more of a child than he used to be,” Rembrandt muttered, as Winn kicked his seat again. He considered shooting his other leg, but they were too close to the heist to jeopardize their only thief. “Maybe I’ll tell Mr. Huntington to start kicking your dogs, Yale.”

“They’d tear him apart,” Winn retorted, but he finally subsided, slouching as best as he could in his seat. “Roll down the window.”

“It’s roasting outside,” Weston said. “No.”

“Mr. Weston, get out the gear, please.” Rembrandt leaned against the side of his car, looking up at the facility they had come to rob. It was supposedly abandoned, but everyone steered clear of it anyway - no one wanted to tr and break into one of Wildcard’s lairs. They were famously riddled with traps and lethal mindgames; Rembrandt wouldn’t have even considered the possibility of sending someone in there. At least, not until Winn fell right into his lap.

Weston moved around to the trunk of the car, while Winn skulked in the back seat. His door was open, but no one had yet bothered to undo his handcuffs, or the seatbelt. Rembrant normally wouldn’t have trusted mere cuffs to keep Winn contained, but he’d made sure to force the ex-con to change clothes completely, and then for added measures, stuck a pair of mittens over Winn’s hands. It was childish, but effective.

“Do you need another look at the building plans?” Rembrandt asked.

“I’m not going in there.”

Rembrandt just sipped at his coffee, rolling his eyes when he was sure neither Winn or Weston could see such an immature expression. “Oh. I wish you had told me that earlier. I’ll pass word along to Mr. Huntington, then. I’ll make sure he gives your dogs a clean death.”

Winn’s head snapped up. Rembrandt couldn’t believe that he had to resort to threatening a man’s pets to get what he wanted, but Winn always had been easy to manipulate. The idiot didn’t seem to have anyone else dear to him.

Weston interrupted their conversation by thumping a hard-sided case down on the hood of the car. Rembrandt winced, and looked at him sternly - he hoped Weston hadn’t scratched the paint.

“All right,” he said, “let him out.”

Winn frowned at the all-too familiar backpack Weston set on the hood of the car. “That’s mine,” he said, and the instant Rembrandt undid his handcuffs, he snatched it and unzipped the top. His grappling gloves were in there, and his lockpicks - the nice set. He’d left all this behind in a storage unit he hadn’t been able to get to since getting out of prison. “Where’d you get this?”

“Gary told us where to find it.” Rembrandt smirked as he leaned against the car again, as if it were impossible for the man to stand on his own two feet. Winn’s jaw clenched, and his hands tightened around the backpack’s straps. “We found your motorcycle, as well. I had Mr. Huntington drive it back to Boston. He was very impressed.”

“You let him what?” Winn looked up from his old backpack - he even had the mask in there, something ridiculous that he wanted to burn - and stared at Rembrandt. “I’m taking that back. Did he wreck it? He’s too big!”

“We’re wasting time.” Rembrandt nodded towards the case. “Hurry up, Yale. If I don’t have those codes in my hands in three hours, I’m going -”

“You’re gonna call that bastard and make him shoot my dogs,” Winn interrupted waspishly. “I know.”

He jerked the case away from Weston, the corners of it scraping against the car. Winn reveled in Rembrandt’s wince as he dug an earpiece out of the foam inside of the casing, jamming it into his ear. “I ——- hate you.”

“Here, let me,” Weston said in a quiet voice, as Winn pulled a digital watch out of the case. He set his jaw and let Weston wrap it around his wrist; the man was entirely too close, though. Before he drew away, he slipped something into Winn’s front pocket, a hard rectangle. A mobile phone. Winn opened his mouth, and Weston only shook his head, shooting a look over Winn’s shoulder, and to their erstwhile boss.

Rembrandt checked his own watch. “Thirteen minutes to one-thirty. You’d better get moving, Wings.”

Rembrandt had put a tiny camera in Winn’s new shirt, and he was more impressed than he would ever let show. Five years in prison had not done much at all to dull Winn’s skill - he navigated Wildcard’s abandoned labyrinth of traps with - well, Rembrandt wouldn’t call it ease. It wasn’t grace, either, but Winn’s panicked scrambling had a certain  elegance to it. Rembrandt had never gotten to really see Winn truly in action, and now he regretted that the little bastard’s skills came with a cocky, self-absorbed arrogance and a truly bizarre moral code that prevented him from being a reliable lackey.

It was truly a pity that Rembrandt would have to kill him once he got the codes, but it would only be a matter of time before Winn betrayed him again. After this job, the man had to die.

Weston leaned over his shoulder to watch Winn’s progress on Rembrandt’s tablet. He was making good time - it had only been a little over an hour when Winn gained access to the facility’s inner sanctum.

“Could you have gone any slower?” Rembrandt asked archly. Winn let out a hoarse bark of laughter that sounded a little tinny over the earpiece.

“I’d like to see you do any of that,” he muttered, panting a little.

The room Winn had finally entered was a large, echoing space, filled with dozens upon dozens of enormous, square storage containers. Winn ignored them all, heading straight down the aisle to the center of the room. Lights clicked on after his first few steps, though more than one lightbulb fizzed and flickered. 

There was a metal desk with a single computer in the middle of the room - but the computer was huge. Three large monitors angled around the desk, which was dusty from lack of use. Winn ran a hand through his scruffy hair as he circled the desk and computer, inspecting it for any last-minute traps left behind. He couldn’t find anything, though, not in this room, so after a few moments, he dropped down into the chair to catch his breath.

Despite being inactive for well over five years, the computer started up the second Winn’s thumb hovered over the POWER button. He pulled out the flash drive Rembrandt had given him, marked with Wildcard’s symbol. However the arms dealer had gotten this, Winn didn’t want to know. There was dried blood in the cracks of the flash drive.

“Just plug it in,” Rembrandt said impatiently, “it should take care of any passwords or firewalls.”

Winn rolled his eyes. He stuck the memory stick into a port and sat back. “This was way too easy,” he said, in spite of the tears and scorch marks on his clothes from a few too many brushes with death (or at least, permanent disability). “You gonna give me another challenge after this, Remy?”

He could just imagine the frustrated look on Rembrandt’s face at the old nickname. The bastard’s voice was far too smooth, though, when he answered, “Oh, certainly. You’ll have plenty of fun.”

I’m going to die after this. Winn stared gloomily up at the computer as code ran across the screens. Rembrandt was too smart to let him run loose. If Winn didn’t end up getting shot after all, he’d probably be chained up in some box, on hand for the next time Rembrandt needed a tool.

“Who are you texting?” Rembrandt asked - but Winn’s hands were laced behind his head as he waited for the codes to download.

“Nobody,” Weston said. A second later, the phone Weston had slipped into Winn’s pocket buzzed. Frowning, Winn pulled it out, and opened up a picture message.

It was Eli and Kawai. The former had his arms around two dogs - Braith was enthusiastically licking his face - and the latter stood in the background, her arms crossed as she glared down at a tied-up Huntington.

Winn stared, and then a grin crept over his face. He angled the phone so that the camera Rembrandt had stuck on his shirt could catch the picture just right.

“What were you saying about my dogs, Remy?”

Rembrandt stared at his tablet. “Where did you get that phone?” he snapped, once he found his voice again. “Who the hell are those people?”

“Friends,” Winn said, the smugness coming in loud and clear even if his voice was a little crackly.

“You don’t have friends.”

“Neither do you,” Winn pointed out. “Ha. Brilliant. Hey, look, there’s a self-destruct option in this computer.”

The camera angle shifted; Winn must have shifted his shirt to point it at the screen. A red line of code near the bottom right of the screen flashed at him. Rembrandt was no programmer, and neither was Winn, but the purpose was clear in the red COMPUTER SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE.

Rembrandt’s breath caught. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“You wanna bet?” Winn’s face appeared on the screen; he had managed to finagle the camera out of its spot. He smiled at Rembrandt, but it was cold and unnerving. The expression didn’t fit on his face. “Don’t f—— threaten my pets, Remy.”

“We’re in the middle of the desert, Winn,” Rembrandt said, trying his best to keep his composure. “I’ll just drive away now, and maybe even call up a couple capes. Do you think Starblast would be happy to hear that a known thief was trying to run away with some of Wildcard’s greatest weapons?”

“They couldn’t catch me,” Winn said, but he looked briefly uncertain.

“It’s miles and miles to the nearest speck of civilization, Winn,” Rembrandt said smoothly. “If they didn’t catch you, the heat would kill you before you got anywhere.”

“No one -”

“And,” Rembrandt said, cutting Winn off. “I may not have any friends, Winn, but I recognize yours. That woman is from Mercury Independent - do you really think they’re here to do you a favor, Winn?”

Winn narrowed his eyes. Rembrandt gave him a thin smile. “My people will easily catch up to them, Winn. Think. Are you certain that’s the decision you want to make?”

“I’m certain you’re a —— son of a —-,” Winn snapped, and Rembrandt knew that he was winning. Winn resorted to insults when he felt like things were out of control - which, granted, they usually were.

“Mr. Weston and I will be driving away in fifteen minutes, Winn,” Rembrandt said coolly. “And I’ll be calling my people in two, and Starblast and Scorchstorm in five. You might want to be out of there and in my car before then.”

“Actually,” Weston said. Rembrandt started to look up from his tablet, and froze when he felt the barrel of a gun cold against the back of his neck. Sam continued, “We’re not going anywhere.”

tagging @gingerly-writing since she just loooooOOOoOOOOoOOOooves rembrandt so much (and sam)

[nurseperriestyles-blog]

Pointing Fingers

The Military Court was all polished wood and high windows. The judge’s bench was raised high above the room, and a mural of a bloody battle hovered over them all from the high ceiling. On one side of the room, members from each branch of the military sat straight and silent; the opposite side of the room was occupied by civilians shifting restlessly in their seats.

In the center of the room was a tall pole, to which Eren was bound, his hands behind his back. He was on his knees before the judge’s bench, glancing around with terrified eyes.

From their box seats above the crowd, Perrie noticed Erwin Smith and Levi. Their faces were stone and their eyes cold as they stared down at Eren, and Perrie felt ice fill her veins. She also noticed Mikasa and Armin. Armin wore a nervous expression, his eyes wide and his body shaking. Mikasa was just as serene and collected as ever, but Perrie could see a hint of anxiety behind her mask.

Perrie stood between Mike and Hange, nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot. Her lip was sore and she could taste blood, but she ignored it. She tried to hide her shaking hands behind her back.

“Well then, let us begin.”

The judge, Commander-in-Chief of all three branches of the military, Darius Zackly, rolled his sleeves up and adjusted his glasses. He was an older man who looked almost bored as he gazed down at Eren. He came across as the type of man that had no time for games or nonsense; he made Perrie uneasy, as if he would just condemn Eren to death to get this all over with.  

“Eren Yeager, yes? You’re a soldier, sworn to sacrifice your life for the public good?” Perrie bit back a scoff at his words. “Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.” Eren replied.

Zackly shifted in his seat a bit. “This is an exceptional situation. This tribunal will be held under military law, not civilian. The final decision rests entirely in my hands.” he looked directly into Eren’s eyes. “You fate will be determined here. Do you have any objections?”

Perrie gripped the wooden railing with sweat-slick hands, her heart hammering against her chest.

“No, sir.” Eren’s voice fell a bit flat.

“I will be direct. As anticipated, concealing your existence has proved impossible. We must make it public in some form, or a threat to society, other than Titans, may arise. What I decide today is which branch will gain custody of you: the Military Police or the Survey Corps. First, I ask the Military Police for their proposal.” Zackly’s voice was soft, but it seemed to boom throughout the courtroom; it almost gave Perrie a migraine.

“I, Commander of the Military Police, Nile Dawk, will present my proposal.” a man stepped forward, his back to Perrie. He held a few pieces of paper, and his voice was deep and laced with contempt as he spoke of Eren. “After a thorough investigation of Eren’s body, we believe that he should be eliminated immediately.”

His words caused Perrie’s brow to furrow and her mouth to move before she even knew what overcame her.

“Examined by whom?”

There was a moment of tense silence as everyone looked about, trying to find the source of the interruption. Hange seemed amused while Mike looked exasperated.

Nile couldn’t seem to figure out who spoke, so she rose her hand and continued.

“Did a medical professional perform this examination in an objective, professional manner? Or did one of your lackey--”

Mike’s elbow met her ribs and she glared up at him.

“How about I ask the questions, Miss.” Zackly said coolly, only looking up at her for a fraction of a second.

Perrie looked back down at Nile, his eyes were burning into her, but he simply turned his back on her and continued. As he spoke, Hange leaned down to whisper in Perrie’s ear.

“Levi is gonna give you hell for that.”

Perrie looked over to where the captain was standing, and she quickly averted her eyes when she met his cold stare.

“It was a valid point.” Perrie insisted, but Hange only shrugged.

“He is an invasive pest!” a shrill voice pulled Perrie’s attention back to the floor, where a Church of the Walls minister was pointing at Eren. “He has deceived the walls that embody God’s wisdom! He must be killed at once!”

The scowl that contorted Perrie’s face couldn’t be helped. She was not a religious woman by any means, though normally she’d never show such disdain for someone’s piety; however, watching a man call for the death of someone he didn’t even know triggered a powerful contempt to build inside of her.

Thankfully, Zackly cut the minister off and called for Erwin’s proposal.

Perrie felt her heart rate climb even higher as Erwin stepped forward.

“I, 13th Commander of the Survey Corps, Erwin Smith, will present my proposal. We would welcome Eren as an official member of our forces, and use his power to take back Wall Maria. That is all.”

Perrie folded her lips in and slowly turned her head towards Hange, her eyes all but popping out of her skull. Hange kept her eyes forward and Perrie looked to Mike, who ignored her as well.

“That’s all?” Zackly and Perrie both asked at the same time.

“With his power, we can take back Wall Maria. We believe that’s where the priority should be.” Erwin replied, his face completely serious.

“I see. And where would you begin this mission?” before Erwin could answer, Zackly turned his attention to Pyxis, who was standing near Erwin. “Pyxis, the Trost wall has been sealed, correct?”

“Yes. It can never be reopened again.” Pyxis said good-naturedly.

“We would like to set out from Karanes, in the east. From there, we would proceed to Shiganshina. We will figure out the route as we go.” Erwin explained.

Perrie felt a thousand needles pierce her nervous system and she lost focus on the rest of the conversation. She never thought the Survey Corps would actually consider going back to Shiganshina. Images raced through her brain: blood-spattered roses, a stinging pain across her thigh, blood soaked palms and a chorus of screaming children..

A disgruntled civilian began to yell and Perrie felt her brain throb. She tried to pay attention to his words, but when he began to argue with the Wallist, she found herself slipping back into her mind and anxiety. But then, the voice of Captain Levi reached through her brain like a helping hand and pulled her back.

“You talk a lot, pig.” Levi sounded bored, but his words were ice. “Where is your proof that the Titans will wait while we seal the gates? The “we” that you speak of are only those you wish to protect, the “friends” that line your pockets. The people who starve because there isn’t enough land to sow don’t even figure into the thoughts of you pigs.”

The merchant stood in a stunned silence before shooting back at Levi, but he was interrupted by the minister again. The two began bickering back and forth, and Perrie could see Eren squirm uncomfortably.

The sound of Zackly pounding on the desk echoed through the room. “Silence. You two can discuss your philosophical ideals on your own time. Yeager, I wish to confirm something with you: can you continue serving as a soldier, using your Titan powers to benefit humanity?”

The determination in Eren’s eyes flashed. “Yes, I can.”

Zackly considered his words before continuing. “The report from Trost says this: immediately after transforming into a titan, he swung his fist at Mikasa Ackerman.”

Eren’s face crumbled into disbelief as he jerked his head towards Mikasa, who pulled her hair over her cut cheek.

He doesn't remember, does he? 

“Is Mikasa Ackerman present?” Zackly asked.

“Yes, that’s me.” Mikasa tried to keep her voice neutral, but Perrie knew her too well; she was agitated.

“Is it true that, as a Titan, Yeager attacked you?”

Mikasa hesitated and Perrie mentally urged her not to lie, even if it was to cover for Eren.

“Yes, it’s true.” she finally replied.

Perrie couldn’t see the look on Eren’s face, but by the way he winced, Perrie knew he was heartbroken.

“I knew it! He’s just another mindless Titan!” the merchant from before shouted.

“But,” Mikasa added. “On two separate occasions, Eren saved my life in Titan form. The first time, seconds before a Titan could devour me, Eren stood between us, protecting me. The second time, he save Armin and me from cannon fire. I would like these facts to be considered as well.”

Atta girl.

“I object!” Commander Nile stepped forward. “I believe these facts to be influenced by her personal feelings. At an early age, Mikasa Ackerman lost her parents and was adopted by the Yeager household.” Perrie’s blood began to boil as he spoke. “Our investigation has also revealed that at age nine, Eren Yeager and Mikasa Ackerman killed three robbers who tried to kidnap her. Even if it was in self-defense, I must question their fundamental humanity. Is it right to entrust humanity's fate and lives to him?”

Whispers buzzed throughout the crowd like a swarm of ignorant, mindless bees. Perrie felt her face flush with anger. She looked at Erwin and Levi, who stood stoic and emotionless.

“He’s just a Titan who has infiltrated us, disguised as a child. And so is she!” the merchant’s finger jabbed accusingly at Mikasa, and Perrie moved forward, the urge to jump from the balcony and punching the man almost consuming her.   

Eren’s voice flattened the crowd’s chatter. “No! I may be a monster, but she has nothing to do with it!” he shouted. His head fell and his voice softened suddenly. “I mean, you are wrong.” he said evenly. “But you’re simply coming up with theories that fit whatever it suits you to think. Besides, all of you people, you’ve never even seen a Titan.”

Ah, fuck, kid. Don’t give them a reason..

“What are you so afraid of? What’s the point if the people with the means and power do not fight?” he was yelling now, the fire in his eyes blazing. “If you’re afraid to fight for survival, then help me, you cowards.” gasps filled the air. “Just shut up and bet everything you have on me!”

Hange finally broke away from the floor to look at Perrie intently, almost desperately.

“Perrie, I need you to trust Erwin and Levi, alright?” she said, her voice low and stern. She stood in front of her with her hands on Perrie’s shoulders. Perrie was confused, but nodded. Not satisfied with a simple nod, Hange narrowed her eyes. “No matter what happens, Perrie, remember?”

“I remember.” Perrie confirmed warily. When she felt Mike’s hands grip both of her elbows, she squirmed frantically.

Then she heard guns cocking, and an order to ready the weapons.

The bitter taste of bile burned the back of Perrie’s throat and she seemed to have misplaced her voice.

But then, instead of guns firing, she heard a familiar, gut-wrenching thud, and she pushed Hange out of her way.

She watched as Levi relentlessly beat Eren; his fists, knees and feet meeting with the boy’s face and stomach over and over and over. Blood glittered the marble floor and Perrie felt something between nauseated and enraged.

Her mind went into overdrive as she watched Levi beat Eren. She could almost see his ribs cracking, his blood vessels bursting and pooling just under the surface of his skin, the cartilage in his nose shattering and his internal organs bruising and possibly rupturing or collapsing. She could see the tooth skid across the floor. Her hands twitched as she tried to keep up with Levi’s blows, memorizing every single place they landed. She noted them from worst to least and created a treatment plan on the spot.

Fueled by panic and rage, she kept up with Levi’s rapid fire assault, not missing a single blow.

It ended as suddenly as it started. With his boot against the back of Eren’s head, he held the boy down.

“This is a personal opinion,” Levi didn’t even sound winded. “But I believe pain to be the best way to train someone. What you need is to be trained like a dog, not a man.”

Everyone was stunned into silence; the only thing Perrie could hear was the rushing blood in her ears and the sound of Eren’s wheezy gasps. Levi began to stomp on Eren’s head, neck and back and Perrie let out a feral snarl. Mike’s grip on her tightened.

“W-wait..Levi..” Nile stuttered and Levi looked at him. “That’s dangerous..what if he turns into a Titan and--”

Levi kicked Eren again and grabbed him by the hair, turning his battered face towards Nile. Perrie fought the urge to scream.

“What are you saying? Don’t you want to dissect him?” Levi let Eren go, causing him to slump over limply. “When he turned into a Titan last time, he killed twenty other Titans before collapsing. If he is an enemy, his intelligence makes him a more formidable foe. Still no match for me, of course.” the nonchalance of his voice was almost more infuriating than his actions. “But what will you do? Those who seek to persecute him, do you really think you can kill him?”

Finally, Erwin’s hand rose and his voice, even and completely unaffected by the events that had transpired, rang out.

“Sir, I have a proposal. The details of Eren’s powers remain uncertain, making it dangerous. Thus, I propose to have Squad Leader Levi take responsibility for Eren’s control and embark on a mission outside of the walls.”

In that moment, Perrie realized this had been the plan all along. Her disgust at Levi morphed into exhaustion and frustration that Hange didn’t warn her; but then again, Hange was a military vet, and this was the kind of sick, brutal games they enjoyed.

Perrie shook her head in disgust and sneered. She didn’t listen as Erwin explained his plan to Zackly, and she didn’t listen to Levi assure him that he could kill him without a doubt. She kept her eyes trained on Eren, who was bleeding and shaking on the floor...just another pawn that Erwin Smith and his soldiers would use to their benefit.

She wasn’t even listening when Zackly gave Eren to the Survey Corps.

The moment she felt Mike release her, she was shoving people out of her way and exiting the courtroom, dashing towards the main doors where Eren would be exiting.

“Get the fuck out of my way!” she seethed, pushing Commander Nile, who was angrily stomping out of the chambers. Upon seeing her, he sneered and stumbled backwards, grumbling some insult that Perrie was too angry to hear.

She realized quickly that she was lost in the crowd of people, and Eren was nowhere to be seen. Panic gnawed at her until she felt a hand on the small of her back. Turning around, she met Levi’s grey eyes as he pushed her through the crowd. They rounded a corner and he led her down a hallway, away from all of the people and their noise.

He wasn’t being rough with her, nor was he being particularly courteous, but he kept his hand against her back as they walked.

“I know that was hard for you, but it was the only way.” he said as they approached a door at the end of the hallway. Perrie crossed her arms over her chest.

“I don’t give a shit.” she snapped. “He probably has severe internal bleeding. It will be a miracle if he can even walk again.”

Levi quirked a brow before opening the door and gesturing for Perrie to enter.

Perrie burst into the room, her eyes frantically searching for Eren. She went over his injuries in her head, sorting them out in the proper order in which to treat them. She expected him to be half dead by now, and she had to take deep breaths to keep from panicking.

Broken ribs, collapsed lungs, probably a brain bleed..

But when she saw him sitting up with nothing but a compress on his cheek and a frown on his lips, she froze in shock.

Hange was kneeling before him, asking him how he felt, and he was simply shrugging and wincing slightly. When he spotted Perrie over Hange’s shoulder, he smiled weakly.

“Hey, Pear.” he said, and Perrie slowly made her way towards him. Hange stood and stepped away, giving Perrie space.

She began to examine him, poking and prodding where Levi had punched and kicked him. Nothing remained but a few bruises and some dry blood on his shirt. She lifted his shirt and instead of massive bruises or swelling, there was faded, green and yellow clouds marring his skin. He was already practically healed.

“I’m sorry,” Erwin approached them, but Perrie couldn’t peel her wide eyes away from Eren’s face. “But thanks to that, we had you turned over to us.” Perrie rose and slowly backed away, a mixture of awe and fear flooding her when Eren smiled and she noticed his teeth..

“The pain you endured allowed me to play my cards at the right moment. You have my respect.” Erwin Smith knelt before Eren, his hand held out. “Eren, I look forward to working with you.”

Eren’s eyes glistened as he shook Erwin’s hand. “Yes, sir! Thank you!”

Levi then sat down on the bench beside Eren, all cool and collected. “Hey, Eren, do you resent me?” he asked.

“N-no, sir..” he replied, looking at his feet. “I understand why it was necessary.”

“That’s good.” Levi shut his eyes and sighed lightly.

“You took it too far, though.” Hange pointed out. “You knocked his tooth out.” She held out a handkerchief and showed them the tooth Eren lost. Levi scolded her for picking it up, and Hange argued it was an important sample, something to study.

At that moment, Perrie shook her head and stepped forward, pointing at Eren.

“No..it..it--” Hange looked from Perrie to Eren, and she bade Eren to open his mouth.

When he did, everyone’s eyes widened as they realized what Perrie was talking about.

His tooth had grown back.

[korkrunchcereal]

The Bane of Man, Part One

The morning's sun came upon a crimson stained horizon, foretelling of the battle to come. Its sanguine streaks promised bloodshed, whilst the angry clouds upon the horizon were attempting to swallow the light. It was a foreboding dawn for the Gilded host that had assembled, for as the light of the sun rose over the distant lands of Wyrmstorm, the army made ready for war. Spears and bows were gathered, while war-bred horses stomped impatiently upon the grass and dirt.

Aurelian had awakened at the sun's rising, lacking of both wine and much of his gold he had come with. Swearing off both alcohol and cards for at least a week, the man had sent for his servants in a sleep filled haze to dress their lord. Thus the finery of silks gave way to the hardened plates of steel, their alabaster hue catching the faint glimpses of the sunlight as it shined through the folds of his tent. When he had emerged from his tent, the host was ready to march.

It was not a long ride, some several hours, before the army had reached their chosen position. It was a grim march, the host painted red in the scarlet dawn. For Aurelian's pounding headache, the sound of plate against cobblestone boomed in his ears, causing him to nearly wince with each step. However, by mid-morning his headache had begun to fade, and by the time the army had reached the border of the Oakenwald, it had disappeared completely.

As Aurelian had surmised and remembered from his travels in these lands, the grasslands between the Oakenwald and Ebonwood held no small amount of hills and rises. The series of hills lay closer to Ebonwood's border, and it was here the army would make its stand. Overhead, the sun's radiant glory began to be swallowed by darkening clouds that had sailed across the horizon.

Their arrival was a cacophony of sound; of men barking orders amidst the shuffle of leather and mail, whilst horses neighed as steel met whetstone. Aurelian heard all of this and more as he stared from utop his horse. The grasslands extended far beyond his sight, met only by yet more hills and all manner of nooks from which his enemy may be hiding. Though he could not see them, his gut told him they were out there.

It took the better part of an hour for all the preparations to be completed, and the battle lines drawn. By now the sun had reached midday, always chased by the clouds that sought to hide its warmth. Upon the hilltop were the archers, bows held at the ready. Stakes had been driven into the side of the hill, while below even that were the lines of spearmen, swordsmen and other infantry set to keep the trolls away from the elven archers. Upon each flank were unfurled the banners emerald, white, violet and teal; the cavalry guarded each side, ready to chase away any troll that sought to encircle the elven army.

Aurelian was just beyond the wall of spearmen, still upon horseback and striking a heroic figure. His cape rustled in the wind, along with that of the plumes of both his helmet and his horse. Dal'endal was unsheathed, the sword held loosely in Aurelian's grip. Handsome features were exposed, his impressive war helm tucked in the nook of his arm. His emerald gaze stared out upon the field, eyes narrowed. To his left and right were Lord Eyvor and Lord Ventosus, each adorned in their paraphernalia of war. Gardesia had taken up with the infantry on the left flank; there she would form a solid anchor that Aurelian could trust to get the job done.

"Think they're coming?" Serigal asked, both hands gripping the reigns of his steed. He dressed near impractical, so ornate was his armor. Indeed it was better fit for ceremony than any battlefield.

"Give it time." Aurelian answered.

"What if they're circling around us to hit Meadowbrook?"

"Unless they travelled far to the south and risk the eyes of my rangers still guarding the border, we would see them. They would waste hours going north as well, and my scouts would find them. From there we'd hit them in the rear or whilst they are unprepared." Eyvor explained. Whereas Aurelian was seemingly relaxed, Bal-Varos cut a stern figure, grimace set into his hardened features.

"You seem certain your scouts would find them."

"I am."

"Indaris, what do you think?"

"I agree with Eyvor. It would take them too long to try and circle around, and the defenses to the south are still manned. We would at least have word."

"If you believe so then; still, I hate this waiting."

"Nervous, Serigal?" Aurelian teased, flashing the man a smirk. Serigal shot daggers at the man, straightening himself. The rustle of jewelry was evident with each movement, for the man was ostentatious to the extreme.

"Not at all. It is simply I have other things I’d rather do. The sooner we're done with this mess the better." There was a pause, the only sounds now being the soft wind against fabrics, the rustling of plate, and the whine of horses.

"Say Serigal," Aurelian began, breaking the silence. "I bet you three hundred gold pieces that I will, by the end of the day, kill more trolls then you." Serigal scoffed, placing a delicate hand upon his chest.

"A wager? Come, add some weight to it. A thousand gold pieces says that not only will I kill more trolls then you, but I will be the one to kill their warlord." Aurelian blinked, eyeing the man.

"You? Preposterous. I'd almost consider it insulting that you believe yourself capable of claiming such from me. You have a wager, Serigal." A small smirk formed on Serigal's features, barely cracking upon his features. It was the kind of smirk that spoke of a devious nature or plan, and knowing the man that was absolutely the case.

"Now, when you lo-"

"Quiet." Bal-Varos interrupted Serigal mid speech, eyes narrowing to the horizon.

"What is it, Eyvor?" Aurelian asked. Bal-Varos merely held a finger to his lips, ears twitching.

"Listen; it's very faint." The two other lords perked their ears, attempting to hear whatever Bal-Varos heard. Aurelian furrowed his brow, unable to pick out whatever Bal-Varos was listening to.

"I hear nothing." Serigal announced haughtily.

"Because you're not used to battle, Ventosus. You're not confronted with the rigors of combat regularly. It's faint, but I can hear it."

"What is it then?" The annoyance in Serigal's tone was clear.

"War Drums." Bal-Varos' eyes widened, the man gripping the reins of his horse. "They come; our lines must be ready!" Aurelian pulled on the reins of his horse, turning it around to face the gilded host.

"Serigal, Bal-Varos; we remain in the center to draw their chieftain to us. We must do everything we can to get his attention upon the three of us. Our lines will hold while we cut off the head of the beast." Both gave a nod, riding to the battle lines. Serigal moved his horse through the ranks, pushing to near the backline. Aurelian was thankful to the predictability of trolls; even though this one was a demon in disguise, he would have to fight as a troll to hold up the illusion to his army. The young lord had faced enough trolls and would be warlords to know how they act.

Savage. Primitive. Simple.

Now Aurelian could hear it, ever so faintly. The rhythmic pounding of the drums; of bone upon hide, echoing with the promise of bloodshed and doom. Soon the drums would be near enough to reverberate to his very bones, for the forest trolls of the Wild Woods specialized in the creation of so called "terror drums"; those made to bring fear into the hearts of their foes. He estimated the trolls were some ten to fifteen minutes away. The archers at the top of the hill would see them in five minutes, for the hills beyond this one were smaller and therefore could not hide forever the vast trollish army.

Others began to hear it now; the deep booming like an approaching storm. Each strike upon hides was like thunder cracking in the distance. The soldiers shared looks with one another, an unease stirring. Men would die that day, and they wondered if they were to be the ones to do so. Who would be killed in a gory fashion? Whose head would be ripped clean from their neck by savage strength, or body hacked to pieces by crude blows. The drums brought terror because of what they promised, and what they promised was death.

"Steel yourselves, children of Quel'thalas!" Aurelian sounded out. Various eyes turned to face him now, their shuffling and murmurs quieting. "Hear not the drums! Nay, hear my voice! Today will not be a bloodless day. Today will not be an easily won victory. What today brings, however, is a chance to remind them our heritage as children of both nobility and blood." Aurelian tapped his feet against the horse's sides, letting the beast walk along the battle lines. Nervous gazes followed him as he rode, eating in his self-indulgent words.

"The trolls dare to think themselves mighty; dare to think themselves masters of these lands. We fought the trolls seven thousand years ago, and we broke their lines. We fought the trolls three thousand years ago, and we broke their lines. Again today they try to fight us. Again today they will try break our lines. Again today they outnumber us! And again today, I say to you, we shall not fall! For we are the scions of these Gilded Lands and of Quel'thalas!! Our heritage is born of empires, and it will take more than primitives to ever threaten that. In their arrogance, the trolls have forgotten this fact. Shall we remind them the price of their mistake?"

A chorus of voices shouted in response as Aurelian drew his sword, the tip catching the sunlight as he raised it upwards. The horse's pacing had stopped once more in the center as Aurelian placed his helm upon his features. The long plume of his helm trailed down his back, rustling softly against his cloak. His horse moved between the lines, stopping behind the second line of spearmen. He pulled the reins to turn his steed, staring out to the hills. The drums were booming; any moment now...

A long wail cried out behind him; a war horn sounded among the archers. They had spotted the trolls then. Aurelian gripped his reins tighter, narrowing his eyes behind the slots of his helm. The hill before him was almost a thousand yards away, well out of the range of his archers. Soon it would give way to a sea of brutality; of clattering bones and savage howls. He grit his teeth as the first figure came over the hill, for he was certain this then was their leader.

Aurelian could see even from this distance the size of the figure. The creature was near as tall as the lumbering berserkers of the trolls, a shock of red hair blazing to the heavens. Elven eyesight was superb, yet he could not make out all the details. The figure had to be their leader; the demon in disguise. Aurelian heard muttering behind him, marveling at the troll's size. He was not alone for long however, for a stream trickled beside him. The stream became a flood of moss and muscle, all manner of trolls carrying vicious weapons. it was a band barely organized yet held together by the promise of warfare and elven blood. More and more moved forward past this large figure, and part of Aurelian wondered if it would end. By the time the last of the trolls had moved over the hill there must have been several thousand. They were six hundred yards away; a hundred yards further and they would be within range of the goose feathered arrows of the elves.

Aurelian's ears perked as he heard Bal-Varos pull his horse up beside him. The man was as grim faced as ever, though worry now pulled at the hard lines of his features. His fingers fidgeted with the hilt of his sword still sheathed at his side. His lips pulled into a thin line, before the man spoke.

"A little more than I expected."

"You can flee if you wish, Eyvor." Bal-Varos shot Aurelian an incredulous look.

"You insult me, Indaris. There will be more deaths this day however. We'll have to fight smart if we want to live, that much is sure." He went silent for a moment, the corner of his lip pulling upwards as he spotted the troll leader moving his way forward. "Look at the size of that bastard and...wait...whose that beside him?" Aurelian blinked, leaning forward in his saddle. Sure enough there was a woman marching beside him, her gait powerful.

"Priestess of some kind? Look at her outfit." Bal-Varos swore beside him. "What?"

"It's a Warchanter." Aurelian raised an eyebrow in confusion, tilting his head.

"A what?"

"Warchanter. They live in the ruins of one of their temples deep in the woods. We've only faced a handful at best over the last several hundred years, but every time they've been some of our bloodiest fights. They direct the bloodlust of their people and weaponizes it; makes their soldiers as tough as nails. I've seen them shrug off arrows through their damn skulls."

"how can you be sure it's a Warchanter?"

"Look at her weapon, and her mask. They all wear the same mask and wield those kinds of warhammers. Bah; this will be ugly business that is for sure." Aurelian saw the woman raise her hands, hammer slung across her back. The warlord beside her stepped forward, pointing a finger. A guttural sound ripped forth from his throat, and his army answered. The warlord began to chant, voice carried by the stygian sorcery of the Warchanter. His army answered with chants of their own, slapping their hands against themselves in rhythm.

"Are they dancing? What are they doing?"

"Have you truly not faced a troll war party? They're building themselves into a frenzy. Their 'dance' is meant to intimidate. Listen, and you can hear their chant."

"I understand very little of the forest troll dialect. What are they saying?" Bal-Varos scoffed, shaking his head.

"We shall eat the elves; we shall eat them and dance upon their bones. When the great sun sets and the moon weeps its stars we shall light a pyre. Upon this pyre we will roast-"

"I get the point." Aurelian interrupted, rolling his eyes. "How barbaric and cliché."

"Don't underestimate them, Indaris."

"I do not, but I will be damned before I let these primal brutes claim victory." The two watched the trolls perform their ritual, a part of Aurelian curious by the barbaric display. He could not fathom how it would intimidate anyone, though he imagined it was to do with the size of the force; the larger it was, the louder the sounds and chants. When at last the ritual ended, let out a breath he did not realize he was holding. yet the brief silence after was just that; brief. A loud cry echoed forth from the warlord's lips, and the horde charged forward in a great, thundering mass.

"Spearmen, at the ready! Archers, knock bows!" Aurelian's voice called out, the order being passed along the lines. By the light they were so few compared to the horde that charged forward. Would it be enough? He had to be confident to his men and to the other lords, lest they view him a coward or become demoralized. But this? This would take finesse and perfection.

Both were things Aurelian strived for.

The trolls were nearly within the kill range now, and from here he could make out more details. Skull faced savages charged beside hulking masses of muscle, while gibbering milk eyed lunatics chanted beside fire-bidden women. This was a host made up of all the disparate tribes of the Wild Woods, born of nightmares Aurelian had never seen. Surely the entirety of the woods was emptied here upon these grassy plains. The trolls that were here however were growing closer. Just a few seconds longer...

"Fire!" A wall of arrows sailed overhead, and before the first volley had landed the second was already released. Death came by steel tipped points, crashing down into the troll ranks. The first several lines of the horde collapsed, brought low by the arrows of the elves. To Aurelian's amazement, some kept charging or indeed got up with arrows protruding from their body. Eyvor had been right about the potency of the Warchanters.

Closer and closer the trolls drew, stretching out to try and flank the elves. Aurelian had to trust the cavalry to do their job; to harass and keep them at bay. Cries grew out from the trolls, their death throes a wail of pain as arrows rained down from the heavens. The trolls were now close enough to return fire, their crude stone tipped arrows a match for the steel of the elves, if only due to the volume. Screams of dying elves echoed in his ears, their bodies punctured by the trolls.

Aurelian ears perked as he heard horns sound on either side, signaling the charge of the cavalry. The horns quickly faded however, giving way to the crash of melee as the trolls reached the spear line. Bodies of muscle smashed against the steel shield of the elves, only to be skewered on the long, leaf shaped spears of the elves. the elven archers were forced to trade with the trolls own ranged forces, leaving their melee combatants free from arrow fire. The elves had reaped a bitter harvest, yet not as much as Aurelian had hoped. Many that had charged into the wall of spears were littered with arrows that should have killed them.

Aurelian upon his horse saw over the battle lines, spotting the troll warlord a small distance from the front lines. For now he seemed content to watch the fighting. of the Warchanter there was no sign, though her magic had already done plenty. The trolls surged against the wall of spears and shield, only to be repelled by the glittering host. The flanks seemed to be holding their own, though undoubtedly they were embroiled in bitter combat. Aurelian watched as the cavalry upon the left flank smashed into the troll horde, both horse and rider wreaking havoc. Before the trolls could swarm them they pulled out, yet some were surrounded and so perished.

His attention turned back to the front lines. The elven line was starting to be forced back, both by weight of numbers and by casualties. Overhead the air crackled, as elven sorcerers scattered amidst the archers fought a battle of will against the dark magic of the trolls. Violet winds blew away choking fogs that their hexxers brought forth, while wailing spirits halted ball of fire. It was pure and utter chaos, and Aurelian could only trust the sorcerery of the elves would triumph. He was confident in them, for Amalta was among their number.

Yet the battle of mortal means still raged. Bal-Varos had dismounted, charging in to reinforce the crumbling center. His sword gleamed in the sun, arcing its way down into the troll ranks. He could not let Eyvor have all the glory, and so dismounted from his own steed. He held his runeblade with both hands, Dal'endal craving the blood of the trolls.

"Second line! Reinforce the front!" Aurelian charged forward with the second line, reinforcing the front and bringing their own blades to bare. Dal'endal was a blur as it sliced into trollish muscle, bringing forth great spurts of blackened blood. Yet despite the brutality of the fighting it was a graceful weapon, and cut through both armor and flesh as if it was parchment. Spears thrusted forward beside him, stabbing any troll who came too close.

Here the melee began; the screams of the dying mixed with the clash of steel and stone. Bones splintered and bodies were trampled, the grass growing slick with blood. Both elves and trolls tripped over their fallen compatriots, only to join them as their foes sought to exploit such opportunities. Yet despite the casualties, the line held, anchored by both Bal-Varos and Aurelian. Both were a flurry of motions, as swords hacked and cleaved through the trolls.

Various horns sounded out, signaling charges and retreats and all manner of movement. It was easy to get lost in the chaos of it all; to become frozen by the overwhelming nature of battle. In this fighting, Aurelian had no sense of the world beyond the edge of his sword, and the sea of trolls before him. An axe blow came down, only to be parried by his blade. The counter was a quick slice, severing the brute's arm. Aurelian moved with the motion of the sword, bringing it from the troll's arm to another's neck in a single motion. It was graceful, as if a dancer and with each blow came death.

Yet the combat was growing closer, as bodies pressed together. His sword weaved through, cutting down trolls dressed in bones and others in bright feathers and leathers. Before him some of the trolls parted ranks, a great behemoth of a creature charging forward. Aurelian whirled to face it, cloak fluttering with the motion. The behemoth swung with its arm, forearms the size of the Eversong tree trunks. Aurelian barely ducked under a blow that would have smashed his bones, swinging his sword upward. It cut into the chest of the beast, but did not kill it. The creature roared, spittle flying from rotten teeth before it raised its arms up to smash downwards. Before it could bring them down its skull caved in, bursting in a torrent of gore and brain matter upon Aurelian. The corner of Aurelian's lip pulled up in disgust, the scarlet falling upon his golden armor. The trolls temporarily fell back from him, giving him a few needed seconds to breath.

"You looked like you could use a hand!' Serigal's voice was filled with arrogance, and despite not facing him Aurelian could feel the smirk on the man's face.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Assisting my niece; Gardesia holds the flank, but only barely. Aurelian, they're pushing us back. They outnumber us too heavily, and we'll lose the right soon. One of their chieftains is there and creating a wedge into our ranks."

"Stay here and help hold the center then. We're slowly giving them ground, but if our flanks cannot hold then our plan crumbles. I'll deal with this chieftain. Hopefully that will get their warlord's attention."

"Go, and quickly then!" Serigal waved his hand casually, the trolls that had begun to refill the gap left by the berserker collapsing in agony. Aurelian grimaced at the display, though nodded as he fell back, pushing his way through. His horse had, luckily, remained for its master. As he mounted back upon it he gasped as he looked out to the battle. It was ugly business, and Serigal was right. The cavalry was being worn down by the constant counter charges in order to keep the trolls from circling the elves, and though the archers had won their fight they had run low on arrows.

"Quickly Daranir; to the flank!" The horse neighed but obeyed, sprinting down the back line. everywhere the elves were barely holding against the trolls, their skill the only thing holding back the overwhelming forces. As he drew nearer the right flank however it was a different story. The various infantry lines were mostly islands of steel amidst the sea of trolls, the center broken open by a group of hulking monstrosities. At their forefront was the chieftain Serigal had mentioned. She was clad head to toe in armor, some elven in nature and undoubtedly stolen and other parts trollish. The great axe in her hand cleaved through elves, creating showers of crimson. Most striking was her bald features, for they were sunken and painted white like a skull.

Dealing with her would be little issue, yet the berserking creatures that fought with her would be a large issue to deal with. He could not let them carve their way through his battle line however, and so in typical reckless fashion he charged in, his armored horse digging into the grass with each stride. One of the berserkers noticed him, letting out a feral roar as it smashed its way through to him. Armor crumpled beneath its meaty fists, leaving only gore stained pieces upon the earth. Its fist intended to smash into Aurelian, yet he ducked beneath the blow and stabbed upwards. The blade pierced the bottom of its skull, digging into its brain before Aurelian pulled it out and carried forward with his horse. The behemoth collapsed with a resounding thud, sending up dust. The others noticed now, including the chieftain.

"Good! I was wonderin when de shining elfy was gonna come 'ere." She licked her lips, charging at Aurelian with a shriek. The other behemoths focused upon the spearmen still holding the line. Aurelian's horse barreled forward as the troll swung, yet before contact could be made a great flash of arcane smashed into the soil before the two, sending the horse back upon its hind legs and the troll flying backwards. Aurelian barely held on, following the source of the blast, eyes widening in recognition. Amalta had moved from the archers, lending her spells elsewhere. The troll rose up, hissing in anger.

"How dare you little elf girl. I'm gonna car-" her words were interrupted as Amalta pressed her hands together, and mirroring the action arcane winds smashed into the troll chieftain. Her armor did little against the arcane force, its volatile nature rippling and crackling as the troll's body shattered much as the plates did. Her crumpled form collapsed, Amalta's gaze crackling with sorcery.

"I had that." Aurelian muttered. Amalta did not listen, bringing up her hands. Tendrils of magic swirled around them, before shooting forward like violet spears. They skewered several of the berserkers, in an instant, before slithering back to their host. "And that..."

"You are needed in the center, Aurelian. Taka marches now with the intent to kill Bal-Varos and crush the center, and should he succeed we will all perish. Go now, quickly! I will hold this line." He could see the sweat beads upon her brow, and the fatigue that had begun to set in. Before Aurelian could answer she hovered forward, for she rarely placed her bare feet upon the world. Bolts of arcane crashed into the trolls, forcing the hulking behemoths back. Aurelian forced his horse around, once more charging back into the center. He assumed Amalta had used some form of sorcerery to see the battle lines from her position or at least to see Aurelian.

He saw the warlord then, letting out a string of curses. He was already among the front lines, and from the looks of it was annihilating the elven forces. The elven ranks were so thin by now, their proud and beautiful bodies shattered amidst the grass along with innumerable trolls. The elves had put a large dent in the trolls, of that Aurelian at least was certain.  Come on, just a little closer...

A glass vial shattered against his right side, its contents splashing over his armor and cape. He turned his head, eyeing the sickly pale liquid. Eyes widened, and he gasped as it began to eat the fabrics. Even his armor was damaged from the liquid in only a few breaths, despite its enchanted nature. He was certain if it was not enchanted the armor would have been ruined, just as his cloak was. Distracted as he was, he failed to see the large spear that sailed through the air, until it was too late. As large as he was, it smashed into his shoulder, sending him flying off the saddle in a heap.

[brooks-jared-archive-blog]

Diner Date || Miles & Jared

Who: Miles Monahan & Jared Brooks

When: Monday, February 20th

Where: Le Diner

Notes: French Fries, Nicknames, Baseball & Innuendo  

@hopespringsmilesmonahan

Jared made his way to the diner just a bit earlier than 7:00, intending on grabbing a booth and waiting for the younger man to join him. He felt for anyone that moved to a new town. He'd moved all the way from Boston to California for school and as great as it had turned out, it hadn't been easy at first. He smiled at the server as she came over and ordered a coke, scrolling through his email as he waited for Miles to arrive.

Miles made sure the door to the record store was locked up tight before he left. The last thing he wanted was for his boss to get angry at him this early in his employment, and he took being trusted with the keys to the store very seriously. Satisfied everything was as it should be, the submissive stretched and headed towards the diner. The weather was nice, but a bit brisk, so he zipped up his hoodie as he continued to walk. It only took him a few minutes to get there. Miles checked to see if Jared was waiting for him outside, but when he didn't see the man, he went inside. Craning his neck slightly, he found the man sitting at a booth, looking at his phone. "Isn't there some sort of social rule about phone use at restaurants?" he mused with a small grin as he sat opposite.

Jared looked up at the voice, tucking his phone back into his pocket. "If there is, apparently, we live in a city full of rebels," he said, gesturing around the room to the scores of other people using their phones. "However, it is put away and now you have my full attention whether you want it or not." A smirk played at Jared's lips as he grabbed a menu from the back of the table and handed it to the younger man. "You found it with no problems, then?"

Miles rolled his eyes a bit at the sight of nearly half the other diners poking away at their phones. "I could understand it if they were alone, but most of them are with people," he groused. "Though, then again, maybe they're Googling something to support an argument?" he offered as an alternative to his view. "Thank you," he said in response to Jared putting his phone away, and in being giving the menu. "No problems at all. Once I saw the lit up 'diner' sign, I just walked towards it," he admitted with a laugh. "The record store I work at is just a few streets down."

Jared chuckled at the comment. "You are giving them far more credit than I would," he said, leaning back in his seat and taking a sip of his coke. He already knew what he wanted so he didn't need to peruse the menu. He ate here a couple times a week usually. "I suppose a giant neon sign is a good indicator of where to go, yes. It's been awhile since I was there but I've always been fond of that store. Are you enjoying working there so far?"

Miles shrugged and flipped the menu over in his hands a couple of times. "I like to give people the benefit of the doubt when I can," he admitted, finally settling on a section of the menu to focus on. The waitress stopped over to take his drink order, and he smiled at her, asking for a root beer. "You've been to the record store before?" he wondered. "So far, yeah! I get to jam out to whatever music I want the whole day. I could be working at far worse places," he said brightly. "What is it you do for a living?" he asked, making conversation.

Jared watched the submissive flip the menu and wondered if he ever sat still. Somehow, he doubted it. "I have," he said. "It's a great store." Miles' enthusiasm for his job brought a smile to his face. "Ah, what I wouldn't give to be able to jam out to whatever I wanted at work. It would make the day fly by I'm sure." He took another sip of his drink before answering. "I work for a non-profit children's charity. We support community centers, scholarships, and technology for children living in poverty." He didn't add that he was the CEO and that it was a charity named after his own family. That made it sound like an obligation when it was something that he really did have a passion for. "It's rewarding."

Miles smiled again when the waitress brought over his drink. She left to give him a few more minutes to decide on what he wanted. "Is it okay if I let the owner know your opinion on the store?" he asked. "It certainly does," he agreed. He took a moment to pick out exactly what he wanted, finally picking something no one could get wrong. When he heard what Jared did for a living, he couldn't help the pleased 'aww' that left him. "It's sweet that you're willing to do that kind of work," he said. "I can imagine it's rewarding, but do you honestly enjoy it, is the real question?" he prodded.

Jared "Sure, glad to let the owner know what I think," he shrugged. He chuckled at the pleased reaction at his job. This is why he didn't say off the bat it was his family's charity. "I do. It is...a very good reason to get up in the morning." He hesitated only for a moment before spilling the truth. "I can honestly say, that I would do it even if it wasn't named after my family." The server saved him from further comment. He gestured to Miles to give his order before he gave his own.

Miles gave a little drum riff with his hands on the table when he was given permission to tell his boss. While the man didn't smile a lot, he had a feeling he'd get a little kick at hearing how good of a reputation his store had. He raised his brows a bit at learning it was Jared's family's charity. "That's even cooler! That your family has that kind of willingness to help," he commented. "Sorry," he said to the waitress, not having realized she was there just then. "Just a simply cheese burger with bacon, and healthy heap of fries please," he said, shooing her a grin.

Jared truly hadn't expected that reaction. He smiled at Miles, for once grateful that someone didn't question his commitment to his job. "Thank you, darling. I am quite proud of it and them." He waited for Miles to order before adding his own. "I'll have the same and add a chocolate malt as well." He smiled and tucked the menus back in their place. "So, what's your gut telling you about Hope Springs so far?"

Miles had no reason to think Jared wasn't dedicated to his work. It wasn't exactly an easy job in the first place, even if he was doing it purely out of self-interest. Watching his mother coordinate some of her gigs with the charities she liked, he'd learned that that type of thing could be a struggle at the best of times. He preened, not minding the nickname. "You're welcome," he answered back. "Damn! There are malts here too?" he asked. The submissive hummed a little as he considered his answer. "It's telling me there are a lot of decent people in it. And that I should stay a while. Pretty much what my gut was telling me before."

Jared chuckled at the exclamation. "They are delicious. You should get one." He twirled the straw in his drink. "It sounds like your gut is very well-informed. I'm not sure we discussed and if we have my apologies, but where are you from?" He was curious about the younger man and what brought him here.

Miles just shrugged. "Maybe next time," he decided. The submissive had to be careful about his spending for a little while longer. The generous amount of cash his parents had given him for his cross-country trip was running thin, and he only got paid every other week. "It's hard to pick a specific city I'm from really. I usually just go with New York since that's where my mom recorded all her albums," he said. "But we've stayed... in Nashville, Miami, LA, Seattle for a little, Dallas. Dad finally convinced Mom to settle in a tiny little town in upstate New York, but I went a bit crazy there."

Jared "Miles, I invited you to dinner, I hope you don't think you will actually be paying for your own meal. I'm a tad old-fashioned that way." Also, he could afford it and moving across country on your own was costly. "Ah, you have a famous parent then? I can relate, somewhat. Though mine is a different kind of famous. My Dad is a US senator...I'm from Boston, originally," he explained. "I traveled a lot with him for political things but I'm sure it didn't compare to actually living different places." It was strange how easy it was to find things in common with people when you started to get to know them. "But now I know where you get your love of music. I fortunately didn't pick up my father's love of politics."

Miles winced at being found out so easily. "I didn't want to assume..." he mumbled. He liked that the Dominant was 'a tad old-fashioned' though. But the last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of that. "Still. Next time?" he offered again, not wanting to appear greedy. "She was famous for a while, I suppose. Her music's considered a bit old these days though," he said with a chuckle. "Really? You're not a Red Sox fan, are you?" he asked with teasingly narrowed eye. He sipped on his soda as he listened. "Politics sounds like a pain."

Jared didn't want Miles to be uncomfortable in the least, so he acquiesced. "Next time," he nodded, realizing belatedly what Miles had indicated. "Good to know there will be a next time," he said, smirking. He couldn't resist the tease. "Old isn't necessarily a bad thing. What's old today may indeed be new again tomorrow." He grinned at the mention of his favorite team. "Why? Is that going to prohibit a next time? Because I very much am. It's probably the one thing I miss about Boston, aside from my sister." He chuckled and sipped his soda again. "Politics are a pain and yet a necessary evil at times. My father is one of the good ones. I'm thankful for that. But it's definitely not my calling. Is music yours? Do you see yourself doing something in the industry or are you a musician as well?"

Miles gave the man a thankful smile. His smile shifted into a grin. "You've been nice to me so far. Why wouldn't there be a next time?" he said, shooting back a little tease of his own. The skeptical look he had as Jared answered his question about the sports team deepened into a playful frown. "How dare you be a Red Sox fan. It's totally a deal breaker," he said, trying and failing to appear serious over the matter. "Well, at least I know we'll be arguing about baseball once the season starts," he added with a laugh. Miles' expression softened when he heard the man was missing his sister. "You have sister?" he asked, wanting to know more. He hummed as he tried to muse over how to answer. "I do play a couple of instruments, but it's more of a hobby than anything. Something to keep my hands occupied, you know? I'm more of a behind the scenes guy when it comes to music. If a piece of equipment breaks, I can probably fix it."

Jared couldn't help letting his smirk widen, he shrugged at Miles' response. "Time will tell. You never know, my niceness may be hiding a nefarious side." He chuckled at the playful frown. "Please tell, darling. Not the Yankees? Anyone but the Yankees." He suddenly was looking forward to Baseball season beginning. "I do. Her name is Melinda and she is nearly exactly 11 months younger than me. My parents wasted no time." He smiled fondly at the thought of his sister. Not really a baby sister. They were more like twins. "Someday I will convince her to join me out here." He nodded at the explanation. "So, a technical wizard. Impressive. Are you in school?"

Miles raised his brows in surprise. "A nefarious side, huh? Now I'm all curious," he said with a chuckle. His jaw dropped at the insinuation he was a Yankees fan. "How dare you!" he exclaimed, teasingly playing as if he was horribly offended. "I, good sir, am a proud Mets fan," he finally declared. He burst out laughing after wards. "Melinda's a nice name. Is she a Dom like you?" he asked. He winced a little at the question about school. "No. School and I didn't agree with each other. I barely got my GED," he explained, though he wasn't all that proud of how difficult doing that had been.

Jared gave the submissive a devilish smirk. "Indeed." He let the comment hang in the air. He couldn't help but laugh at the incredulous expression on Miles' face. "Oh well, then you are forgiven. If you were a Yankee's fan, I would have had to end our association immediately." Miles' laughter was infectious. It would be extremely difficult to be in a bad mood around the young man. "No, Melinda is a submissive," he said. His expression turned more serious as the subject changed and he caught Miles' wince at the question. "I see, well school isn't for everyone. I do agree with that. Though, I will say, it is different when you are learning something you are passionate about instead of the things you are forced to remember in high school."

Miles knowingly chuckled in return. He exaggerated his relieved sigh, given in response to Jared not wanting to dissolve their acquaintanceship just yet. "I wouldn't be caught dead in Yankee stripes," he assured. It was fun to find out they had baseball in common. At the very least, they disliked the same team. "You two are close?" he asked. Then smiled at the waitress as she brought their food. Politely, he waited for the Dominant to start eating first before he began on his fries. "True. I'm just terrible at learning anything from books or lectures. I'm a hands-on kind of guy," he said, wiggling his fingers to emphasize his words.

Jared "Good man," he nodded solemnly at Miles' comment about not being caught dead, grin still hovering at his lips. "Melinda and I are very close. Like twins, really." While still smiling, it was a bit bittersweet. He wished they lived in the same city still. His attention turn to their food and he noted that Miles waited for him to eat first. Such a respectful gesture. "Hands-on, hmm? I tend to prefer hands on myself." His grin betrayed the other meaning behind his words. "I think most people learn best from doing, wouldn't you agree?"

Miles smiled when Jared began to eat. "Do you two get to see each other very often?" he wondered, popping a french fry into his mouth. He could hear the wistfulness in the other man's tone when he talked about his sister. It wouldn't make sense in Miles' world if the two didn't talk as often as possible. As the subject shifted into something more flirtatious, the submissive tried to hide a knowing smile of his own by raising his brows. "I don't know about most people. I just know what works best for me," he said.

Jared "Not as often as I would like. Mostly holidays and the occasional visit and mostly if I go back to Boston. She rarely comes out here." He wasn't sure why, really. Except that she was still heavily involved with their father's political career. "But we talk several times a week. So, that's good." Jared would eventually talk his sister into moving away from their parents and out to the west coast. "Fair enough," he said, his own flirtatious smile firmly in place. "So besides working on equipment. What else do you enjoy doing with your hands?"

Miles cocked his head to one side as the Dominant explained. "Does she not like Hope Springs or... is she just busy and not able to get away often?" he asked as gently as he could. He knew family could be a sensitive topic for a lot of people, after all. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Jared during their date. To shift things away from a potentially heavy subject, Miles asked, "How's your food?" At Jared's suggestive question, he could feel a flush creep up the back of his neck and up to his ears. And he couldn't help but to laugh. "Do you want me to go into detail, sir?" he asked, his own tone low and nearly salacious.

Jared "She is just very close to our parents and spends a lot of time working with our Father. Especially when it comes campaign time." He didn't mind the question. He understood why Melinda loved Boston and didn't begrudge her that at all. He was grateful for the shift in conversation, though. If only because he didn't want to dwell on heavier topics while getting to know someone. "It's perfect as always. Are you enjoying." He couldn't help but let his smirk return to his face at the last response. "Hmm. I'm tempted to ask for as many details as you'd like to give. But we are in public. I wouldn't turn down highlights, however."

Miles gave an understanding hum, but left it at that. "Is it campaign time for him?" he asked, trying to keep things vague even though he was curious. "Of course!" he said brightly in answer to Jared's question. To emphasize his words, he grinned right before he took a big bite of his burger. "So good!" he moaned out, chuckling at the end. He quirked a brow. "The highlights, huh? Well... I'm a pretty tactile guy, and I've been told a time or two that I give good back massages," he said.

Jared "It's always campaign time," Jared said a bit ruefully. "But no, the actual mid-term elections aren't until 2018." The grin Miles sported lit up his face. Jared had to admit it would be hard to see this boy sad after seeing how buoyant he was normally. "I'm glad you like. See, the diner is amazing." He took another sip of his coke. "A time or two? Do you have references, darling? Some way for me to verify the veracity of your words?"

Miles sent Jared a sympathetic look. He could only imagine what being apart from a sibling could feel like. Especially if they were as close as the Dominant said they were. The mood lightened considerably at his antics. "Yeah, it's pretty good," he agreed. "I'll have to try something other than the burgers when I come next time. Variety is the spice of life after all, right?" he said happily. Miles bit his lip to hide a grin. "No references on the west coast unfortunately," he admitted. "I could always just give you a massage sometimes to prove myself," he offered with a playful shrug.

Jared was glad that the submissive understood; the sympathetic look told him that. "Definitely the spice of life and I can honestly say that I've never had anything hear that I didn't love." When Miles bit his lip, he had the distinct urge to do so himself. "I may have to take you on that, darling. If only to give you a west coast reference."

Miles munched on his burger for a while longer as Jared spoke. Before finishing, he pulled one of the pieces of bacon out and laid it aside on his plate. The submissive couldn't help the grin, and he felt that flush climb up the back of his neck again at the nickname. "You've called me that a couple of times now. Why?" he asked out of pure curiosity. "And if you really want one, all you need to do is ask," he said with a pleased smile.

Jared couldn't help but grin a little at the question. It seemed odd that he'd be asked. "Why?" he smiled. "Probably because I want to. It just suits some people. Do you not like it?" He had a habit of using affectionate terms with likable people. It tended to make them more comfortable not less. "I think I just may at that."

Miles wiped his mouth after popping the last ketchup slathered French fry in his mouth. After, he pushed his plate to the side and leaned his chin in the palm of his hand as he waited for Jared's answer. "I like it," he assured the other with a fond smile. "I just wanted to know why you used it for me. Do you use the same nickname for everyone? Or are they tailored?" he wondered. As he asked his question, he swirled his straw in his drink, unable to keep his hands still, like always. His smile turned mischievous at Jared's declaration. "Now, I suppose the question is when? Do you want one now? Or next time?"

Jared "I suppose I used it for other people as well. It varies. Once I get to know someone better I get more creative," he said, grin still playing at his lips. "To ensure there is a next time, I'm going to say next time. Sound good?"

Miles gave a nod. "So, if we keep getting along so well, you'll give me one that's more geared towards me?" he wondered, just needing a crystal-clear explanation. He reminded himself not to look forward to that moment just to be on the safe side. But part of him still did. The submissive smiled happily at the guarantee. "Sounds fantastic to me, sir," he said, emphasizing the statement by liking that remaining salt off of his finger. After a moment's pause, he asked, "Is there where we say our goodbyes until that next time?"

Jared nodded. "Exactly." Given Miles' personality it would be amusing to find a nickname to suit the young man. He gave the submissive a brilliant smile at the enthusiastic reply. He would definitely be looking forward to a next time. He wondered if Miles knew exactly what he was doing when he licked his finger. "No goodbyes, just a see you later."

Miles was oddly happy to hear that. Nicknames were an intimacy he wasn't quite used to, but he did want to experience how one felt. The submissive gave the man another smile. "That works for me," he said, grinning. Finishing with his food completely, he set his plate on the edge of the table to make it easier for the waitress or busboy to pick it up.

Jared returned the submissive's grin, happy that he'd asked him out and that it seemed to have turned out even better than expected. He placed his plate to the side as well and sipped the rest of his milkshake. "Good, then it is definitely a see you later." Jared received the bill for their meal and rose to pay for it. "Walk you out?"

Miles shot a friendly smile at the waitress again when she dropped off the check. And gave Jared and appreciative one for picking it up, before standing to follow. He nodded, "I'd like that." He waited by the door as the Dominant paid, waving his goodbyes to the staff who'd helped them. When Jared came over, he held the door and gestured for the other man to head out first. "Thank you for this," he said again. "I had a really good time."

Jared smiled when Miles held the door for him, stepping out into the cool night air with a smile. "You're quite welcome," he said. "I had a good time as well, darling. I intend to take you up on that massage offer very soon." Moving closer, he leaned in and kissed the younger man on the cheek. Maybe a tad old fashioned but that was who he was. "Remember, not goodbye."