#*. : ｡ CH. STUDY ╱ THEY FELL FOR HER BEAUTY THEN RAN FROM HER BRAIN.

[moldisgoodforyou]

lost time ch. 5.5

soooo it’s not the next part of study abroad fic like i promised but i wanted this one out of the drafts. pls enjoy 

wordcount: 3.6k

warnings: all smut - this is part of chapter five and then a what if they actually fucked lmao

_____

They kept kissing for a while, Sophie lazily toying with the ends of his hair. After a couple minutes, he started kissing along her jaw, sucking just enough at a spot on her neck to elicit a soft moan from her. “I wish I came as your date.” He murmured against her skin as he traced his thumb back and forth over her hip. She froze at his confession, her head clouded without a clear thought. “You’re drunk.” She mumbled back, hand falling from his neck. “I’m not.” He argued, kissing her again. She could taste the rum on his lips, betraying his words.

“Well, I am.” She replied softly, hesitating again until he went in for another kiss. “And I’m still mad about your stupid death cup rule.” He scoffed, softly, but sounded more amused than anything. “You can’t call house rules when it’s not your house.” Sophie scowled and pressed her hand a little harder against his chest. “It’s more my house than yours. Can’t you just follow the rules?” He chuckled, trailing his hand higher and ran his index finger lightly along her spine. “Do you ever stop arguing, Soph?” She shivered at his touch, willing herself not to move closer. “Not with you.”

“Can we…?” He asked with a broad grin, tipping his head toward their houses, just a short walk away.

She paused, considering. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” He challenged, stepping closer and backing her up against the wall. She swallowed and felt her heart threatening to beat out of her chest, then willed herself not to think about it any longer - if she did, she’d back herself out of it. “I just. We’re - we’re not going to -” She stammered, and he raised his eyebrows. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” She decided, pushing him a little so she could slip out from under him and walk off the back porch, then around the house. He snorted as he followed her. “Walking through the house isn’t an option for you?”

“Not really a fan of everyone thinking we hooked up.” She lied, striding down the sidewalk determinedly.

He furrowed his brow and jogged to catch up with her, confused. “I thought you said -”

“I did. We’re going to.”

“Then why -”

“It doesn’t matter, god, do you always ask so many questions?” She snapped frustratedly, hating herself as she did. She was better than this, wasn’t she? Being mean to Rafe had always been a coping mechanism to hide the inkling of a crush she’d had on him all those years.

He fell silent, frowning as he followed. Maybe this was a bad idea, right? Some small part of his brain reminded him of the one time he saw a therapist in training, as a favor to a friend also in the psychology major, and the therapist had told him he sounded like he was a little too comfortable allowing people in who repeatedly hurt him. All that after only thirty minutes of meeting the person and a few confessions. Probably bullshit, he always figured, it was just because he was in a vulnerable spot right after he was dumped by Brooklyn and shared a little too much.

They got to his house faster than he expected, and he offered his hand as they walked through the door. He was surprised when she accepted it, a little tentatively, and hoped she couldn’t feel his pulse through his palm. “My room’s just up here.”

“Okay. I like the house, it’s cool.” A lot of their flirty energy had died down and turned to nervous energy, and she wished she’d wiped her palm on her skirt before taking his hand.

“It was built in 1932 or something like that, it actually used to be the governor’s mansion -” He started, only to be interrupted by her. “I know. I had to do a research project on it once, I have the blueprints.”

“Oh.” He showed her into his room, thankful that he’d cleaned up earlier that day, and dropped her hand as he shut the door behind her. “So. Here it is.”

“Rafe?” She took a step closer, trapping him against the door like he’d had her earlier. Had he always had that little smattering of freckles across his nose? They were so faint by now she could hardly see it, but for a moment she wondered what they’d look like in summer, across his tanned skin.

“Yeah?” His hands found her waist easily and he dared to tease his thumb along the elastic of her skirt, nearly making her shudder.

“I didn’t really come here to talk.”

“Right.” He glanced between her eyes and her lips, tongue darting out briefly to wet his own.

She seemed amused, raising her eyebrows. “Am I always gonna have to make the first move?”

He shook his head quickly and leaned down, and she wasn’t sure who kissed who first. Their lips met hard in a heated kiss and it wasn’t long until he reached down and tapped one hand under her thigh. She took the hint and jumped to wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, rolling her hips a little into him.

He supported her with both hands under her thighs and groaned into her mouth as she rolled her hips. Her already-short skirt was halfway up her waist already so there was nearly nothing between them, especially considering his half-unbuttoned shirt and tight pants that left nothing to the imagination.

“Bed.” She breathed out, working at the rest of the buttons down his shirt. He nodded and gently dropped her down onto the bed, then looked up at her with a curious glance as he went to tug off her halter top. “Can I?”

“Yeah, here let me.” She nodded, sitting up just enough to wrestle off the top. He bit hard on his tongue as her breasts came loose, then reached out and cupped them, running his thumbs over her nipples and smirked. “You need to stop hiding these under those big hoodies you wear to class.”

“Oh, sorry, I’ll start just having my tits out in class.” She rolled her eyes, shoving his shirt off his shoulders. “Totally reasonable.”

He laughed and pushed her up the bed, pressing kisses down her throat and along her collarbone. “Sounds perfect to me.” She moaned when he hit the perfect spot at the base of her neck, leaving a red mark sure to bruise. “Rafe.”

He paused for a moment and had to will himself not to cum in his pants just at that sound alone. “Hm?”

“Do you really have to leave hickeys like we’re fifteen?” She threaded her fingers in his hair, wanting to touch nearly every inch of his skin. If she was going to do this once - and she swore she wouldn’t do it again - she was going to make it count.

“Do you not like them?” As if to prove a point, he sucked another one at the swell of her breast, then skated his teeth along her nipple as he moved further down. Her grip tightened in his hair and she let her head fall back, gasping. “Just - fuck - just not where anyone can see.”

“I can do that.” He affirmed, taking his time to leave little kisses and marks all over her chest. She grit her teeth when it went on a little too long, shifting around below him. “Cameron - you can -”

“Yeah?” He lifted his head and moved up to kiss her again but she whined in protest, pressing his head back down. “Come on.”

“Where do you want me?”

“Rafe.”

“I need words, Soph.”

She scowled, not wanting to admit it any way that she was enjoying herself. “You’re just trying to hold something over me.”

He smirked, thoroughly amused. “I’m trying to fuck you, actually, if you’ll let me.”

“Do you always take this long?” She reached for the zipper of his pants in between them and he laughed, pushing her hand away. “Are you this annoying with every man you sleep with?”

“It’s not like I’ll come that way anyways.” She mumbled under her breath and he paused, cocking his head a little. Sophie hated that she wanted to comb her fingers through his beautiful floppy hair.

“You’ve never come from someone touching you?” He asked, a little softer, gentler with his touch. She huffed and shook her head, not wanting to add that she’d hardly come from sex anyways. “No. Now can we just -”

“No, no, I’m going to take my time.” He declared, moving down her body and nipped along her hips, the waistband of her skirt, then slowly unbuttoned her skirt and looked up at her. “Okay?”

“Okay.” She breathed out, embarrassed at how much control he had over her.

He carefully slid her skirt down her legs and let it fall to the ground, then nudged her legs open, positioning himself in between them.

“What are you - oh, fuck.” She cursed as he placed an open-mouthed kiss directly on her clothed clit. He smirked against her and pushed her legs a little wider, then kissed along her inner thighs, peppering kisses along the hem of her panties.

“Can I?” He asked, hooking his fingers in the sides of her thong. She nodded quickly and he pulled it down - just a little bit - then took it in both hands, ripped it clean in half and stuffed it in his back pocket.

“Did you just -” She sat up a little, trying to close her legs, but he nudged them back open, giving her a wolfish grin. “Yeah, I wanted a souvenir.”

“Oh my fucking god.” Sophie laughed a little in disbelief, but it quickly turned into a moan as he licked a wide stripe up her center, wasting no time. He grinned and replaced his tongue with his fingers, first one then two, as he glanced up at her. “Soaked just for me?”

“In your dreams.” She bit back and he shook his head with a grin. Only she could keep up an argument during sex. “You’re in them more often than you’d think, sweetheart.”

As much as she wanted to hate sweetheart, it felt like a knot was forming in her stomach just from the nickname alone. All she could manage in response was just “oh?”

He smirked and continued his ministrations, slow pumps in and out combined with flicks of his tongue over her clit, slowly building up to it. She whined a little, biting her lip. “More.”

“Yeah? You like that, Soph?” Rafe glanced up to gauge her expression and nearly laughed when he saw her head dropped back against the pillows and her hands fisted in the sheets. He just picked up his pace instead, moving to suck on her clit. When he did that, and curled his fingers inside of her, she gasped sharply. “Do that again.”

He used his free hand to push her leg out again, as they were close to clamping around his head, and continued until she was gasping again, her legs starting to shake. “Oh my god - fucking hell, Rafe -”

Rafe took a mental picture and swore he’d never forget how goddamn pretty she looked as she came, calling out his name. It was quite literally a dream come true and he worked her through the orgasm, then climbed back up the bed to rest next to her and give her a moment to recover.

She tipped her head over, looking almost...surprised. “I didn’t think I could - I’ve never -”

He smirked. “Told you I’d take my time.”

“Arrogant asshole.” She bit back, but it didn’t really have the same effect when she was still a little out of breath and had a blissful expression. Sophie glanced down and saw him straining against his pants, and briefly reconsidered - if she just got up and left right then, would Rafe hate her for all of eternity for giving him blue balls?

Then he rolled on top of her, and she felt him against her core for a tiny moment, and decided she could at least go for a handjob if she couldn’t handle the whole thing. He deserved that at the very least, for the way he just made her feel. Also, why had no one in her social circles ever commented on the size of him before, even in high school? He had to be at least six, maybe seven -

“Soph.” Rafe placed a quick kiss on her lips, laughing when she was jerked out of her reverie and blinked up at him.

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

She nodded quickly, giving him a small smile. “Are you?”

“I have condoms....” he trailed off, raising his eyebrows with the insinuation. She gave him a small nod and pushed him over onto his back, straddling him and started to work at his button fly.

He let out a choked breath of surprise, just staring at her for a moment.

She felt his gaze and glanced up at him as she undid the last button, placing her hand over his length. “What?”

He swallowed, hard. “I think you might have to yank my pants off. They’re a little tight around the ass.”

Sophie giggled and got off of him so he could swing his legs off to the side of the bed, trying to tug down what he could. She joined in after a moment when they got stuck around his thighs, yanking until she heard a solid rip and immediately put her hands up, eyes wide. “Shit, I didn’t mean to -”

“It’s fine, I’ll just buy another pair.” He excused right away and she bristled, hearing arrogance seep into his tone. That was the reminder she needed that he wasn’t just a hot random hookup, this was Rafe, and even if he could make her cum in five damn minutes from a flick of his tongue and twist of his fingers, he was still everything she hated about him too.

“Where are your condoms?” She reached for his bedside table and he grabbed her hand to stop her, not wanting her to see the drafted screenplay he’d been working on for a class. It featured two sworn enemies, who’d known each other for ages then ended up at the same college even though it was far away from their hometown - fine, there were too many similarities that she’d catch right away. He kicked off what was now three big scraps of his pants and reached in the very back of the drawer to pull out a condom, a sore reminder of how long it’d been.

She sat back on the bed and tried to look impassive at his size, reminding herself she really should have assumed, with the way he was built and all of 6’3”. He caught her staring and smirked, keeping his eyes locked with hers as he rolled the condom on. “You okay?”

She blushed, immediately flustered. “I’m fine.”

“When was the last time you...?”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “Is that really important?”

He shook his head quickly, genuine. “No! No, not at all, but we can just take things slower. If you want.”

She appreciated the gesture - he was probably right - but grabbed his hand anyways, pulling him down to the bed. “I’ll be fine.”

He leaned over her, giving her a long kiss and combed his fingers through her hair. Just that action alone had her wanting to melt into him and kiss him for ages, until their lips fell off - she had to remind herself that this wasn’t a romantic thing with how soft he was being. He nearly reached to hold her hand, then just ran it up her side instead, telling himself that she wouldn’t want that, anyways.

“Rafe.” She murmured against his lips, feeling overwhelmed from the way his hands were everywhere and how he was so damn close and god, were his eyes always that pretty?

He pulled back a little, concerned. “Did I do something wr -”

She didn’t give him the chance to finish. Sophie pushed him onto his back, straddling him and rocked her hips once against him. “You’re taking too long.”

He groaned, his hands immediately going to her waist to support her. “Didn’t realize we were on a time crunch.”

“I wouldn’t be doing this if I was sober.” She reminded him and he frowned, squeezing her hips gently. “You’re not drunk though. I didn’t think you were even tipsy by now.”

“I ...” She trailed off, feeling a little guilty at the way he froze. “I wouldn’t have agreed to this normally.” She wasn’t sure why, exactly, she was lying to him, just felt the need to put him in his place, remind him what they’d be going back to after this one-night stand.

His brow knitted with concern. “We can stop, Sophie, I’m not going to push you to do anything you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that.” She amended quickly, feeling way too exposed for a moment to be having that conversation. “I just meant - I don’t know. This isn’t happening again, so. Enjoy it while you last.”

He relaxed a little, his frown turning to a smirk. “While I last? I think it only took me five minutes to watch you cum.”

She had no response to that, so she just huffed, standing up on her knees. “Are you good?”

He nodded, watching with bated breath as she took his cock and lined it up with her entrance, slowly sinking down onto him. He groaned, letting his head fall back for a moment, but kept his grip on her hips. “Fuck, Sophie.”

Just him saying her name - like that - sent a pulse straight to her core. She bit the inside of her cheek hard as she sunk down all the way on him, waiting just a moment for it to turn from a flash of pain to pleasure. “Just - just let me -”

He nodded, rubbing circles on her hips with his thumbs. “Take your time.”

She scowled, almost taking it as a challenge. “I’m fine.” She started bouncing her hips on him, leaning forward a little and bracing her hands on his abs. It took her a moment, but it started feeling better and better, and Rafe’s groans and gasps were enough to spur her on.

“Oh, c’mon...so good, Soph...” He encouraged, bringing his hips up to meet hers. For a few minutes the room was just filled with their breathy pants and the sound of skin on skin. When he felt himself getting closer, he reached in between them and started rubbing circles across her clit, loving the way she gasped at his touch.

She nearly flinched, the feeling of everything being so close to overwhelming. She was so close to reaching her high - again - and kept her eyes on his for a heated moment. 

Rafe kept up his motions until he could tell she was close, about to snap, and he was too. “There we go, Soph, that’s my good girl -” 

“Not yours.” She snapped hastily and he let his head flop back against the pillow, frustrated, and dropped his hand. “Didn’t mean it like that -” 

She shook her head. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.” Sophie grabbed his hand and brought it back to her clit, hoping to spur him on again. “Please don’t stop - oh, yes, fuck, there -” 

He resumed his gentle rubbing, a little more frenzied now, and groaned as she moved her hips a little differently, rolling them and bouncing on him somehow all at the same time. It only took a minute longer for her to come and as she clenched around him, it spurred him on too, making him let out an embarrassingly loud groan. 

As they both caught their breath and she climbed off him, panting, he shot her a cocky grin. “Sure you don’t want to do that again?” 

She chose to ignore him and stood, hoping it didn’t show how she stumbled just a little from weak legs. She reached for her skirt then paused, standing up with crossed arms. “You took my underwear.” 

“I did.” He nodded, leaning back with his hands behind his head, on full display. 

Sophie let her gaze rake over him for a second, but he didn’t notice as he was doing the same. “And you ripped it.” 

He had the decency to look a little bashful at that. “Probably shouldn’t have.” 

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” 

Rafe gave her a wry smile. “You could stay the night and I’ll give you my boxers to sleep in.” 

She huffed and pulled her skirt on anyways, rolling her eyes. “Give it up, Cameron. Never gonna happen.” 

“I’m sorry, did you just disassociate from the last half hour?” He raised his eyebrows, smirking. 

Sophie wrestled on her halter top, thoroughly annoyed by now - god, only he could switch her mood so easily. “Worst sex of my life.” 

He let out a loud, barking laugh. “You know that’s not true.” 

“I - well - whatever. I’m leaving.” She started toward the door and he sprung out of bed, tugging on a pair of boxers. “No, hold on, I’m not letting you walk home alone.” 

She stopped in the doorframe, crossing her arms. “This is ridiculous, we’re not dating -” 

“It’s still three am and I’m not letting you walk.” He shoved his feet into boat shoes and grabbed his keys from his nightstand. “Come on.” 

“Just a drive home?” She asked, stepping aside so she could follow him down the hall. 

“Just a drive home.” He confirmed. “Jesus, Sophie, it’s just a kind gesture, not a committed relationship.” 

“I know, just. I don’t know.” 

He cast a glance back at her, frowning a little. “Your last boyfriend was that bad, huh?” 

She rolled her eyes, following him outside to the car and got in (after he insisted upon opening the door for her). “No comment.” 

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23 @babygal-babygal @thecuthoney

[rowanwhitethornisbae]

Faking It Ch 3

A/N: I don't remember Aedion’s mom every being explicitly named in the series so I just kinda made up a name. I picture her as being the young cool aunt so that’s just my portrayal, not canon lmao. 

Also I'm going to reveal what happened between them in the next few chapters so send me some theories in my asks!!!

Despite Aelin's attempts to forget about Rowan, the day continued to drag on slowly. First science class, where somehow her brain managed to relate molecular compounds to Rowan's face. Then lunch, when luckily Aedion had managed to distract her with donuts for the short fifty minutes. Now she was back in the last period of the day, left to brew in her own apprehension as the on-screen lecture lapsed by and turned into silent reading. 

Rowan had agreed to drive them both to her house after school, saving Aelin from walking back in the crisp autumn weather. She’d put more energy into her appearance today than she’d like to admit. If Aelin had one thing she love about herself, it would be her style. Today she was wearing a slightly too short wrap skirt and a loose satin black button up which she tucked one side into the skirt. She had chosen to wear her platform Doc Martens, naively assuming she could handle the ankle pain. Her hair was done up in a tight bun and she pulled back her short layers from her face with gold pins. Aelin fiddled with her hoop earrings as she watched the second hand move around the clock. 

“You’ll be fine.” Lysandra whispered, her head still staring down at the book they were supposed to be silently reading. 

Aelin scooted her chair a little closer to her friend, careful not to make a squeaking noise against the marble tile. “But what if I'm not?” 

Lys didn't look up but Aelin couldn't tell she was no longer actually reading. “Then call me and we’ll get white girl wasted and watch pride and prejudice for the hundredth time.” 

Aelin laughed under her breath, images of Mr. Darcy’s hand flex flashing though her mind. “Can you blame me? I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers.” 

Lysandra shot he a conniving look. “Maybe this is your chance to experience your own enemies to lovers?” 

Aelin scoffed a little too loudly and someone behind them glared. “It would be more like friends who slept together to lovers to enemies to awkwardly fake dating to lovers.” 

Lysandra stifled her laugh and went back to reading. Aelin was glad that she had someone to talk to about whatever the fuck she and Rowan were about to do. Saying she hadn't thought several times about putting the breaks on this whole thing would just be a futile lie. Rowan resented her, he’d made that much clear over their very brief and clipped conversations. A part of Aelin was holding onto a hope that today they’d be able to work some shit out at least. If not, she was in for an incredibly uncomfortable few months. If they even lasted that long. 

Unable to focus, Aelin began doodling on the front of her binder. She was about to run out of space when the bell signalling the end of school rang at last. Aelin swung her bag onto her shoulder and grabbed Lys’ hand, pulling them both out of the classroom. 

“Holy fuck you are so pale.” Lysandra exclaimed. 

Aelin released her and offered a small apologetic smile. “I feel like I might throw up.” There was a moment of awkward silence before Aelin spoke again. “Will you walk to his car with me?” 

Lysandra grinned at her. “Duh! What are best friends for?” 

Normally Aelin would've hugged her but she was too focused on not emptying the contents of her stomach on the school floor. Lysandra was going on about something trivial in her attempts to distract Aelin when she spotted him. 

He was leaning against his car talking to Lorcan and Fenrys. Or more, Fenrys was talking and the other two were listening. Aelin approached him carefully, Lys an ever steady presence on her left. 

“Hey.” She said softly. Fenrys’ talking ceased and all three massive males turned towards her. They all seemed to bear matching expressions; disdain. Despite Lorcan’s body language suggesting indifference, his eyes held a hatred Aelin had rarely seen before. 

She swallowed nervously and bumped Lysandra lightly. Lys, thank god, received the message and smiled widely. 

“I’m Lysandra.” She said, her voice filled with fake sweetness. 

“We know.” Lorcan grumbled at the same time that Fenrys said “Nice to meet you.” 

They both then shot each other matching looks and fell silent. “I’m fine guys.” Rowan said at last, his first time speaking thus far. He had yet to look straight at Aelin. “I’ll come over after.” 

They nodded reluctantly and walked away, Lorcan fighting back a laugh at something Fen said. 

Aelin pulled Lysandra into a long hug. “Call me if you need anything.” Lys whispered in her ear. Then they pulled away and her friend was gone, leaving Aelin and Rowan alone. 

“Hi.” She said again. 

He only nodded at her and walked around to the drivers seat of his car. She groaned internally, already dreading the next few hours.

The car ride to Aedion’s house, where Aelin had been living for two years, was deadly silent. It wasn't really awkward, just the type of tension that you were too scared to break in fear of a storm. 

When they finally pulled into the driveway, Aelin unbuckled her seatbelt and was halfway to the door before Rowan even got out. She unlocked the door with a spare key and walked into the house. Aedion and his mom, Althea, lived in a small semi a few miles from the high school. Upon Aelin’s parents sudden death, the spare room had been shifted into Aelin’s room and Althea had taken her in with a warm heart. 

“Althea I'm home.” She called out into the house. 

A voice came from the kitchen. “I made some sandwiches.” 

Despite herself, Aelin smiled at the prospect of food. Without turning around, she led Rowan through the small hallway and into the kitchen.

Her aunt was sitting at the island, munching on celery and dip when they walked in. Upon recognizing Rowan, she dropped her food, mouth agape. 

“Althea,” Aelin spoke through her teeth. “You remember Rowan. We’re going to study for a bit.” She silently begged her aunt not to question it. 

Ever so slowly, her aunt nodded. “Of course. It’s nice to see you again Rowan.” 

Aelin swiped the plate of sandwiches off of the table and handed them to Rowan. “Take these to my room. I’ll be up in a minute please.” 

He nodded and turned on his heels quickly, clearly desperate to get out of this room. Once Aelin was sure he was out of earshot, she turned back to the kitchen. 

“Oh my god.” Her aunt whisper shouted. “Is that the same Rowan who’s dick I walked in on you sucking.” 

Aelin cringed at the reminder. She selectively tried to forget about that very awkward encounter that had traumatized all involved parties for several weeks.

“Yes.” Was all Aelin could manage to say. 

“The same Rowan who’s heart you shattered on my front lawn while me and Aedion watched from the upstairs window.” 

Aelin began tapping her foot. “Still mad at you for that.” 

Her aunt wasn't deterred. “The same Rowan -” 

Aelin put up a hand to stop her. “From now on how about we just assume it’s all the same Rowan. It’s probably wise considering I only know one.” 

Althea let out a small laugh at that and shooed Aelin out of the kitchen. She walked up the stairs slowly, her steps unhurried on the wearing carpet. Upon arrival at her room, she found Rowan hovering over her desk. He was looking at the pictures she had framed, none of which included him. There had been a time, when nearly every single one those pictures had been him and Aelin together. In the heat of the moment, she’d smashed them all on the ground, glass shattering on her wood floor. She’d immediately regretted it, but the damage was done. Over the months since, she’d gradually replaced the photos with new ones. Her and Lysandra smiling from pool chairs. Her and Aedion drunk and laughing at something Aelin could no longer remember. There was one on the far left of her and Chaol at junior prom that Aelin had forgotten to remove. She looked beautiful that night, with a stunning pale blue dress that shimmered in the moonlight outside the venue. Chaol had looked handsome too, but he wasn't who Aelin had really wanted to be there with. 

It was that photo which Rowan was now staring at, his back to her. Leaning against the door frame, Aelin cleared her throat. Rowan whirled around, his face red as if he’d just been caught in the midst of something illegal. 

“I was just - uh...” He ran a hand through his silver hair in a way familiar to Aelin. 

“It’s fine.” She said, waving her hand dismissively. 

They both took up positions on opposite sides of the bed, Aelin at the head and Rowan at the foot. He crossed and uncrossed his legs a few times before deciding at last to lie on his stomach, legs hanging off her bed. 

“This is awkward.” He said, surprising Aelin enough that she fumbled with the sandwich in her hand before regaining control. 

“Yep.” She nodded, and took a bite to refrain from having to answer. 

He shook his head as if he wanted to say more and pulled out a notepad from his bag. “Let’s make rules and a contract.” 

Finished chewing, Aelin halted to gape at him. “Are you seriously going to make me sign a legally binding contract or some shit. Rules make everything less fun.” 

Rowan didn't meet her eye when he spoke again. “I’ve learned not to trust your word.” 

A blush crept over Aelin’s cheeks and she ignored the sudden pain in her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, to say what, she didn't know, when Rowan interrupted. 

“Besides, this isn't about fun. It’s a mutually benefitting deal.” His voice was dead serious but Aelin couldn't help but scoff. 

“You’ve always been good at making fun things sound like physics homework.” 

“And you’ve always been good at taking nothing seriously and thinking only of yourself.” He looked dead at her when he spoke, his features stone cold. 

Aelin froze up and placed her half eaten sandwich back on the plate. “You’re being mean.” 

A smirk crossed his lips, although she read no real amusement there. “My apologies, your highness.” 

“Fine.” Aelin said, turning away from him to blink back a few barely there tears. “Let’s make rules then.” 

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

Rowan was being a dick. He knew that. And yet somehow, every time he opened his mouth something mean and condescending came out. Clearly, he wasn't as over Aelin Galathynius as he’s convinced himself to be. Sitting on her bed after school, scrawling notes in a notebook and eating sandwiches brought back memories he’d honestly rather forget. Maybe it had been her Aunt’s reaction to seeing him, or the picture of Chaol on the dresser, but all Rowan knew was that somewhere between the threshold and here, he’d turned into a douchebag. 

Currently, Aelin was rummaging through her desk drawer for a pen. She returned a moment later and handed it to him, careful to avoiding their hands touching. 

“Fake Dating Contract”

Rowan scrawled a title messily at the top of the page, trying to ignore Aelin’s eyes on him. 

“So what’s number one?” He asked out loud. 

She tucked a few loose blond strands of hair behind her ear and bit her lip in the way she always did when she was thinking. Unable to watch the familiar motions anymore, Rowan turned back to his paper. 

“Tell no-one.” He suggested dryly. 

“I already told Lysandra,” she admitted guiltily, “and I’ll have to tell Aedion as well.” 

He had already been expecting that response. “That’s fine. I wanted to tell Lorcan and Fenrys anyway.” 

She nodded in his peripheral vision. “But no one else. If this gets out I'll be the laughing stock of the school.” 

“Of course princess. How dare I endanger your precious reputation? Need I remind you that this was your idea.” His tone was mocking, even as his brain scolded him for the cruel words. 

Aelin blanched and shot him a glare. “Don't act like you don't need this either. I’m getting you what you always wanted.” 

 “How are you even planning on doing that anyway?” 

She wouldn't lie to him about this. Would she?

Then it crossed his mind, he had no fucking clue what she would do. There had been a time when he thought he knew every thought that Aelin had. But then she’d broken his heart and altered his view on people forever. His distrust was both justified and entirely her fault. 

“You won't like it.” Aelin said softly. 

“I don't really care how you do it.” It was a lie. Despite his disdain for her, he didn't want her methods to be anything that put her in danger. 

They went silent for a moment before Rowan spoke again. “What are the limits?”

Aelin arched an eyebrow at him. “Limits.” 

“Yeah.” He sat up, suddenly feeling too uncomfortable to be lying down. “Like if we're going to make people believe it then we’re going to need some displays of public affection or whatever.” 

Rowan didn't even need to look to know Aelin was delighting in how red his face had gone. A wicked smile crossed her face, “Are you trying to seduce me Rowan Whitethorn?” 

He couldn't help the short laugh that escaped his lips. “Stop that,” he grumbled halfheartedly. Aelin had always been the best at making him blush. 

“We’ll kiss here and there, go to a few parties together, and hang out with each others friends a few times. It won't be too hard.” She shrugged as if they were just discussing the weather. 

“Alright.” If she wasn't going to act like this was a big deal, than neither was he. 

Half hour of back and forth conversation and a few snide comments later, the rules were complete. Rowan ripped out the looseleaf paper and held it up for Aelin to read. 

Fake Dating Contract

1. Tell two people each ... ONLY

2. No making out for longer than 30 seconds. 

3. No being rude or resentful to each other in public

4. Rowan must fake date Aelin for four months or until she says otherwise. 

5. Aelin must get Rowan a football tryout by week two

6. Rowan and Aelin’s friend groups have to sit together at lunch

7. ANY RULES BROKEN RESULT IN THE SAID RULE BREAKER BEING BURNED ALIVE. 

Rowan had added the second one, much to Aelin’s amusement. She had stolen the paper at the end to add the last one and sign her name at the bottom, handing it back to Rowan to do the same. 

Once both their signatures were at the bottom, he pocketed the paper and stood to leave. 

“You’re leaving?” Aelin blurted out, clearly uneasy. 

“Why would I stay?” He meant it to come out rude, but it sounded more like a plea for a reason to. 

Aelin hesitated for a moment before offering him a small smile and turning away. Sighing, Rowan quickly exited the room, tiptoeing down the stairs and out the door to avoid any awkward encounters. It was only when he got to his car that he realized just how badly he had wanted her to make him stay. 

--------

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[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 109

Happy Spooptober, everyone!

I’ve been planning since about February to do another camping trip this month, for the season.  I was super fortunately back in May to have some stories left over to share, that I didn’t have the opportunity for last time.  So thanks go to @catolicabuena for your submission, and to @dierotenixe for the PERFECT character to add to this chapter.

As always, thanks go to @zazen-rabbit, @baelpenrose, and @charlylimph-blog for being the beta readers and cheering section I need every day, no matter what.

As a reward for the clear, focused argument Charly gave in favor of Shalt-kri’i/Ekomari hostilities being over cultural misunderstandings earned her a reward of her choice.  I don’t know what Arthur expected, but part of me expected her to ask him something like throwing the class a party, showing up to teach class in sparkly footie-pajamas.  Her response, instead, left me convinced there was a conspiracy between her, Conor, and other mysterious parties to keep track of the Terran holidays.

“It’s almost Halloween,” she immediately pointed out. 

How? How did she say that so certainly? I wasn’t even sure it was Friday.

Oblivious to my thoughts, she tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Today’s Tuesday - “ See!? “Which means Halloween is just under two weeks away? I think?”

“Your guess is probably better than mine,” I admitted. “Between the extra long days, artificial light, and consistent temperatures, I have no idea anymore.”

“She’s spot on,” Tyche confirmed, without even looking up.  We were sitting in my living room, digging into ice cream while all the guys were at work.

“How - “ I sputtered. “How are y’all keeping track of this?”

Tyche rolled her eyes, while Charly snagged my wrist and shook it. When my datapad popped up, she gave me the deadest stare I had ever seen on her face. “There is a calendar on this thing. You do know that, right?”

My face and neck burned so hot, I was surprised my hair didn’t catch on fire. “I keep it on the daily view, so I can see all my appointments.”

“Which is why she has me and Alistair,” my sister pointed out lazily before scooping up another spoonful of dessert. “By the way, this pumpkin ice cream is pretty good.”

I nodded, having had a scoop earlier.  We had been trying every flavor we could think of.  

True to form, Charly’s was a screaming purple that honestly scared me, sprinkled with gummy bears and some kind of acid-green syrup. Every time she leaned my direction, I couldn’t repress the flinch. “Pumpkin is a good point. We should go camping again, and carve pumpkins.”

I could almost feel my ears pick up. “You mean like jack-o-lanterns?”

“Duhhhhh,” she scooped up a large enough bite to convince me it probably wasn’t toxic. “I know we can’t have open flames in the lab, but we can still put emitters in them.”

“Where are we even going to get pumpkins in time?” Neither woman would look at me. “What did y’all do?”  I sighed.

“We did nothing,” Tyche insisted, chin jutting out stubbornly. “Now Sam….”

An audible smack sounded when I dropped my forehead to my palm. “How big?”

Charly gave me the widest puppy-dog eyes she could. “How big are what?”

“The pumpkins…”

“Pretty big,” Tyche smirked. “I don’t think I’ve seen even you carve any this big, honestly.”

I wasn’t a professional carver by any means, or even competitive, but I had done some pretty big ones in the past, so I was a little excited to see these.

 A couple nights later, sure enough, several of us were carrying our camping gear to the now-less-eerie clearing where our previous camping trip had taken place.  Even though Sam had decided not to join us, we were greeted by the sight of six enormous pumpkins around the edges of the space.  In awe, I approached one and ran my hand over it - I actually had to lift my hand, seeing as the thing came nearly up to my hips. “How long has he been growing these?” I asked.

“Just over three months?” Conor huffed, setting down our gear. “The things love our best guess of Von’s environment, turns out.”

“No shit,” I whispered before clearing my throat. “I don’t think we have large enough containers for the guts and everything in these.”  The deal with camping in the Lab was that we had to take out everything brought in with or for us.  While Grey agreed to allow the jack-o-lanterns to decorate the area for the next two weeks - ostensibly as a study of decomposition - if we couldn’t remove the waste from the pumpkins, we couldn’t carve them.

Something that felt like plastic beaned me in the face. While I rubbed my face, I glanced down at my feet where whatever-it-was fell. 

Maverick started apologizing before I could figure out what I was looking at. “Oh god, Sophia, I’m sorry! I meant to toss that on top of the pumpkin!”

With a joking scowl, I glanced at the vegetable between us. “How bad does your aim have to be to miss that thing?”

“Are you okay?”

“Only if you tell me what just hit me in the forehead?”  I tried leaning over to pick them up again, but Conor beat me to it.

“They’re composting bags,” Maverick admitted. “I brought them just in case. They were the only thing large enough and portable enough to at least get in here.”

“It looks like a roll of garbage bags,” Simon pointed out skeptically, poking the roll of pseudo-plastic Conor was holding.

Conor smiled and shrugged. “Pretty similar.”

Soon, we were spreading out and setting up our gear in  a familiar pattern. Just as the last bit of gear was stuffed into the tents or spread on the ground, Antoine’s head snapped up and over his shoulder. “Does anyone else hear that?”

Silence fell as we strained our ears to listen.  The others started looking around, searching for something, before I was able to actually catch what they were hearing.  Finally, I was able to hear what sounded like music, but it was in a minor key that sent shivers up my spine.  It was another minute or so before I could make out words drifting through the trees. 

“ -  a year, and then

A few weeks, doubled, and tripled again,

A fire was struck by a warrior’s band

Meant for food, warmth, and a place to stand”

“What the - “ Tyche started wandering toward the music, clearly expecting us to follow. “It’s beautiful, but so sad.”

Reluctantly, I followed, reminding myself that this was a lab, that the faerie ring we were standing in was manufactured as a prank.

 “Yet one bough too many was placed inside

The flames roared to life as they screamed and cried

Tore down the trees as the warriors fled

And only ceased by the river’s bed

 The warriors slain, charred skulls and bone

Have remained in the forest for years, alone

Yet a magic imbued in their ashen remains

That entered a child who hid in great pain”

 I glanced over my shoulder, and saw about half our group behind me, including - “Arthur, why do you have your sword?”

“Because it’s steel,” he shrugged, like that actually answered my question. “Which means it has iron in it, and we’re in space, so any fucked up space-fae might not know the difference.”

 “In order to warn those who may stay

In the trees embrace, and walk away

The girl reads the thoughts of those who stand

On the ashes of noses, bowels, and hands

 She sends them away with a haunted scream

That tears into souls with a power unseen

No one has entered who has not fled

Only to drown in the river’s bed”

 Because that line was reassuring as I realized we were getting toward the artificial lake. Totally want to hear about drowning in a river bed, on a Halloween camping trip, sang by a creepy voice I didn’t recognize.  A voice that we were steadily getting closer to, no less.

 “For what place is safer from fire and flame

Than the rushing of water, a power untamed

The danger evaded, the human is saved

As their lungs are filled with a liquid depraved

 To step foot in the forest is to invite death

For though the child has drawn their last breath…”

 Tyche came to a sudden stop, both hands abruptly on her hips.  She glanced back at me, one eyebrow arched, and twitched her head toward the lake.  The voice was incredibly close to us at this point, so I peeked past her as carefully as I could.

Even in the low light of the BioLab during simulated-night, I saw a bright gleam of silver trailing through the water, interrupted only by a thick, red-gold cable draped halfway down.

“Their soul remains as though chained to the ground,” Nixe smiled with her eyes as she wound the song to a close. “And they’ll tear you apart until you are drowned.”

“Very funny,” Tyche half-scolded. “You did that on purpose.”

A lazy flick of her tail accompanied a cool glance over the surface of the water. “Perhaps,” she replied calmly. “And perhaps not. I often swim at night. And I like to sing, it’s in my nature.”

“But a song about ghosts, and vengeance, and drowning?”

“I’m a siren, Administrator Reid.” A bright flash of teeth that my brain told me were sharper than I knew they were. “All of my songs are about love, and revenge, and how else do sirens take revenge?” Another lazy splash. “I can’t exactly burn people at a pyre.”

“I loved it!” Charly spoke up from behind me. “We’re camping for Halloween, so it was perfect!” I had to admit, at least to myself, that she had a point.

Apparently I wasn’t the only one. From over my shoulder, I heard Arthur murmur “Siren or not, you’re insane.” A brief pause. “But I love the spooky music…”

I couldn’t be certain that she heard the comment, but Nixe’s eyes suddenly snapped over my shoulder to the side where it sounded like Arthur was standing. “Iron has no effect on me, Educator,” she stated firmly, flicking her tail to make a point. “But I mean none of you any harm, so please put the blade away. One near-death experience is plenty, thank you.”

A metallic rasp told me Arthur had acquiesced. “Apologies, I didn’t know it was you.”

“Were it anyone else, you still wouldn’t need that sword.” She tilted her head. “I would be there first.”

“Okay!” I interrupted, trying to break the tension. “Nixe, we’re camping and carving pumpkins.  Did you want to join us?”

Another smile, this one less terrifying. “I appreciate the invitation, but I have plans tonight.  I do apologize for interrupting your evening.”

“We were just surprised,” Charly explained. “But it was beautiful and perfect and thank you!”

With a nod, Nixe turned her body toward the artificial lake. “I am glad the song was appreciated.  Good night.”

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[patchwork-panda]

If A Moment Is All We Are (ch 2)

For those who prefer AO3 format: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24121633/chapters/58417417#workskin

Part 2:

My breath was growing ragged as I sprinted back to my apartment complex; clearly, the lack of food and sleep was finally taking its toll. I managed to make it all the way up to my floor before I finally tripped in the middle of the hallway and fell to the ground, not two feet from my own door. As I stared down the hall, the doorway to Mrs. Yamazaki’s unit seemed to draw me in. I immediately closed my eyes to keep from looking at it but as soon as I did so, the haunting images of the vision I’d had earlier resurfaced and it was all I could do not to break down right there on the spot.

I’d seen that cat-shaped clock once before, when Mrs. Yamazaki had first pulled me into her apartment and sat me down in her living room. The TV had been exactly where I remembered it, set to the channel Mrs. Yamazaki had kept it at all evening; she’d even told me about the comedic variety show she sometimes stayed up to watch on weekends, the program that played every Saturday, including this one, when the man with the snake tattoo breaks in to her apartment and stabs her in the chest...

I felt something welling up in my throat and I quickly pushed myself back to my feet, covering my mouth with one hand as I dug around in my pockets with the other for the key to my unit. My vision swam as I struggled to put the key into the rusty lock and the more I tried to concentrate on getting back inside where it was safe, the more vivid Mrs. Yamazaki’s grateful, smiling face grew in my mind’s eye.

“I don’t know where I would be if you weren’t here, Kyou-chan...”

I shook my head to clear the images away—it didn’t work.

“From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

The lock clicked open and I threw myself inside my apartment, kicking my grocery bag into my apartment so that it lay in a sagging heap in the entryway. I slammed the door shut behind me.

“Don’t thank me...”

My feeble voice echoed throughout the empty room. The dizziness returned and I covered my face in my hands and slumped against the nearest wall.

“I don’t deserve it.”

I sat there for some time, my head still filled with the angry buzzing that usually followed these horrific visions of death and I curled into myself, hugging my knees to my chest and forcing myself to breathe until my breaths evened out again. Out of nowhere, my stomach growled—very loudly—and I shakily reached into the bag for one of the bananas I’d gotten earlier.

When I was about halfway through my banana (with the headache disappearing, I could feel my blood sugar returning to a normal level), I heard a chime from my laptop. One glance at my desk showed me that, as usual, I’d forgotten to close my laptop before I’d gone out and as I got up and walked towards it, I saw that I had a new email notification.

“New Commission,” it read.

Gears turned in my head as I stared at my computer; I suddenly had a crazy idea.

Picking up the pace, I half-ran to my desk and immediately swept everything off of it except the laptop. Empty boxes and wrappers cascaded onto the floor but I ignored them and went straight for the pencil drawer. Drawing and sketching had always been just a hobby of mine but since leaving college, I’d managed to use my artistic ability to earn some money by doing commissions—drawings of anime and video game characters. It wasn’t a lot of money and I still needed to stretch whatever my parents had left in my bank account (I couldn’t handle telling them I’d dropped out) but I made it work.

The crazy idea solidified as I flipped my sketchbook to a fresh page and began sketching lines.

Maybe I could use my art skills to save Mrs. Yamazaki.

Drawing what I could see of the attacker was the easy part. Convincing the police that they needed to do something would be the challenge...

***

“Half-past eleven in a week’s time, you say,” the officer deadpanned, raising one eyebrow as he looked over my drawing at me.

“Yes, that’s right,” I said, nervously fiddling with the strap on my bag.

I’d done the impossible. I literally couldn’t remember the last time I’d left my apartment twice in a single day—I’d even showered twice today and eaten an actual piece of fruit. Not only that, I was wearing the cutest blouse I possessed, had thrown on a decently fashionable light jacket and picked out clean jeans and sneakers to wear, with not a speck of anime memorabilia in sight. For the first time in months, I could honestly say I looked like a normal person; I’d even taken off my face mask and stuck it in my bag before walking inside the police station.

As I watched the officer look over the sketch I’d made, the most accurate impression of the snake tattoo I could recreate, I felt a flicker of my old self returning to me. Despite having just seen another vision of a death this morning, I managed to force myself out of my apartment and now here I was, the furthest I’d ever been from my apartment in ages, talking to a complete stranger face-to-face. Perhaps this was all I needed in order to leave—someone to be concerned about besides myself. If I could end my self-imposed confinement for Mrs. Yamazaki’s sake, maybe with time I could do it for myself.

Maybe.

As long as I never ran out of face masks and nitrile gloves, it should be easy enough... I did have another mild panic attack after finding out I’d ripped my last pair of gloves when I’d saved Mrs. Yamazaki. At least wearing a face mask convinced enough people on public transit that I had a relatively bad cold and needed to be avoided...

I was in the middle of figuring out how to wean myself off of face masks and gloves when the police officer pushed my drawing back towards me and let out a heavy sigh.

“Look uh...” he squinted at me. “What was your name again...?”

“Kusunoki,” I said. “My name is Kusunoki Kyou.”

“Right. Kusunoki-san.”

He scratched his balding head.

“This is highly unusual. You say you overheard a man on the street talking about planning a break-in on his cell phone... and he gave an actual address—your neighbor’s address actually—and an exact time...?”

I nodded uneasily as he repeated my story, his suspicion starting to show in his tone.

“And instead of snapping a photo of this man and bringing us an image of his actual face, you went home and made a drawing of his tattoo.”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

“Yes...?” I squeaked.

He scowled.

“Listen, we’re a very busy precinct and we don’t have time for crazy stories. Go home and study for your exams or something.”

He got up from his seat and escorted me to the door. By the time I shook my elbow out of his grasp, I was already outside and the automatic glass doors had slid closed with a sharp slap. I stood there on the sidewalk, staring at my own shocked reflection, my useless (but meticulously colored) sketch wrinkling beneath my fingertips and my brain unable to process what had just happened.

Everything had been going so well...

However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized the officer was right. My story really didn’t make any sense. Any normal person would think it was a prank, especially coming from a weirdo like me; I was lucky I wasn’t fined for my antics.

I’d managed to clean myself up a little but my nervous mannerisms and inability to meet the police officer’s gaze must’ve overrode my general appearance, making me seem suspicious and unreliable anyway. I twisted a lock of long black hair between my fingers, staring past my reflection into the office, turning away only when the officer looked back up.

Distantly, I heard the crosswalk light change and a cool breeze began to blow.

In the end, I couldn’t change a thing...

The breeze tugged at my drawing; it started to slip out of my hands but I didn’t tighten my grip.

My efforts didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. I should just go home right now and go back to being a useless shut-in...

Suddenly, the wind picked up. It ripped the heavy sketch paper right out of my hands and I watched it numbly as it flew high into the air and sailed away into the crosswalk, where someone abruptly jumped up and caught my drawing in his hand.

“Whoops!” he exclaimed, snatching it out of the sky.

Drawing in hand, he jogged towards me, the crosswalk light changing from green to red behind him. As he approached, his face broke into a brilliant smile.

“Is this yours?” he asked warmly, holding the crinkled page out to me.

I nodded mutely and reached out for the sketch.

He was tall and relatively good-looking, with a mop of unkempt brown hair that curled loosely around his face and a pair of intelligent brown eyes that sparkled pleasantly in the light. Curiously, underneath his tan trench coat and professional attire, his palms, wrists and even neck were covered in a thin layer of fresh white bandages. It was almost as if he’d just walked out of the hospital... As I looked at up him, his eyebrows slowly rose until they disappeared into his bangs and the corners of his mouth began to twitch in obvious amusement—I realized with a start that I was staring at him instead of taking back my drawing.

“Oh...! I’m sorry!” I stammered. “I didn’t mean to—”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he laughed, his eyes shining with mirth as I quickly stuffed my sketch back into my bag. “I’m flattered to have caught the eye of such a beautiful woman.”

I abruptly stopped trying to close my bag and looked up. This time, I really stared.

“Huh?”

In one smooth movement, he gathered both my hands in his and tenderly held them to his chest.

“And what radiance you possess,” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “With your lips as red as a Camellia blossom and your eyes as dark as the finest port wine—ah, if only I could drown in your eyes...! To cross paths with such beauty on so fine a day—has fate smiled upon me at last...?”

He gave my fingers a squeeze and I swear I felt time stop.

His grip was firm and his hands were so nice and warm that it took me a moment too long to realize that my skin was in physical contact with his and I needed to let go right away...!

But something was off.

Although he held my hands tightly in his, I wasn’t seeing anything from the distant future. No death, no scenes from another time, another place. No. Just this oddly flirtatious stranger in front of me, holding my hands in his and giving me compliments my shell-shocked brain couldn’t process.

“Beauty...? A-are you talking about me?”

He smiled, his lips curling around perfect, white teeth and what was left of my brain completely short-circuited.

“Of course I am.”

He leaned in close, his long bangs shifting softly with his movements and my cheeks burned when I noticed he was even more attractive up close. I could barely hear his next words over the sound of my own pulse pounding in my ears.

“Are you doing anything later this evening?” he asked, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “If not, I was wondering... would you be interested in joining me in a double su—”

“THERE YOU ARE, DAZAI!!” someone bellowed.

I let out a yelp and instinctively pushed the man away, snatching back my hands in the process and backing several steps away. The sudden outburst had shocked me back to my senses and while I thought my heart was going to jump right out of my chest, the bandaged man in the trench coat didn’t look fazed in the least. With a small, disappointed sigh, he shot me an apologetic look, straightened up and turned to face the crosswalk where the noise had come from.

“Kunikida-kun! I was wondering when you’d catch up,” he called, his voice pitching up into an almost sing-song tenor, a big goofy grin plastered on his face as he waved jovially to someone standing across the street.

“Don’t give me that bullshit!” Kunikida roared back.

There, standing at the opposite crosswalk, looking angrier than anyone I’d ever seen, was a very tall man. His arms were crossed so tightly over his chest, it looked like he could snap himself in half if he squeezed any harder. Like Dazai, he was dressed like a professional, wearing a beige vest and pant set over a long-sleeved black shirt, a wine-colored ribbon tied neatly at his collar. He wore his hair long, in stylishly cut dark-blond ponytail and his rectangular glasses flashed menacingly as he glared sharply at Dazai. Unease building in my stomach, I watched his foot tap up and down with the uncanny precision of a metronome, like a countdown, and as soon as the crosswalk light turned green, he charged at us with all the force of a raging bull. I threw myself out of the way just as his arms shot out and his fingers closed around my companion’s bandaged neck. To my alarm, Dazai started laughing.

“Didn’t I tell you this morning that we had a very tight schedule today?” Kunikida barked, viciously shaking the brunette, who appeared completely indifferent to the assault, even entertained as his body rocked back and forth and his feet nearly lifted off the sidewalk.

“So what do you do? You wander off as soon as we leave the station and where do I find you? Flirting with a woman in broad daylight in the middle of the street! Smearing mud on the Agency’s good name while you are on the clock! You disgust me!”

At once, he dropped the guy and turned to me. Instinctively, I took a step back but to my surprise, he bent forward at the waist at a nearly perfect ninety-degree angle, sweat beading on his brow as he began apologizing to me.

“I am deeply sorry about my partner, Miss. This is completely inappropriate and the Agency will be taking full responsibility for his actions.”

“It’s okay!” I exclaimed, half afraid Kunikida would finish Dazai off if I said anything even remotely incriminating. “I’m fine. He didn’t do anything... bad...?”

Kunikida stared at me, the look in his gray-green eyes somewhere between confused, doubting and dumbfounded. Next to him, Dazai dusted himself off and I could feel his eyes on me as I chose my next words carefully.

“Really. It’s fine, you don’t need to do anything...” I glanced at Dazai’s skinny, bandaged neck, wondering when the bruises were going to show. “I’m alright.”

At once, Kunikida’s shoulders collapsed in obvious relief and as he straightened up, he fished around in his pocket to produce a small slip of paper.

“Here. My card.”

Bowing politely as I received it, I glanced over it. It was a rather plain-looking card, the sharp black text looking just as neat and tidy as the man in front of me. Intrigued, I read the card aloud.

“Kunikida Doppo-san. Armed Detective Agency?”

Something about that name sounded familiar...

“We’re detectives, Miss,” Kunikida said, as I turned the card over in my hands. “If you or anyone you know have any need of our services, please don’t hesitate to give us a call.”

“Detectives? As in private investigators?” I asked, suddenly feeling hopeful.

When Kunikida nodded, I quickly took the (very crumpled) drawing back out of my purse.

“Actually, I do have something I could use your help with. You see, I’m trying to stop a murder—”

“Murder?!”

Kunikida looked stunned but I kept talking as he and Dazai exchanged a glance.

“Yeah, I have this neighbor, Yamazaki-san. She lives across the hallway from me and if somebody doesn’t intervene in the next few days, she’s going to—”

“I’m really sorry,” Dazai interrupted me, looking apologetic, “But wouldn’t it be better to be asking the police for help on something like this?”

The hope died in my chest.

“I already tried asking the police,” I said stonily, staring at his feet. “They wouldn’t listen to me. They... they thought I was playing a joke on them.”

Kunikida stepped forward. He looked like he was about to speak when Dazai stopped him with a meaningful look. Dazai then turned to me, bowing his head a little as he spoke so that he was closer to my level.

“Hey...”

He put a bandaged hand on my shoulder.

“They’ll listen to you,” he said gently, his smile radiating compassion, “You just have to go in there and act like you’re someone worth listening to.”

He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at his fellow detective.

“I mean, just look at Kunikida-kun. It works for him.”

“What the hell does that mean, Dazai?”

“What I’m trying to say,” Dazai continued, blatantly ignoring an increasingly incensed Kunikida as he spoke, “Is that you should try again. Look behind you, there’s been a shift change. Maybe you couldn’t convince the last person, but perhaps this officer will take you seriously.”

I turned and looked at where he was pointing, and sure enough, a different person had taken the place of the older, balding man from before. Dazai patted me on the shoulder.

“You can do it. I have faith in you. Oh, but just in case it doesn’t work out...”

He reached into his coat pocket and produced a card that looked very similar to Kunikida’s.

“You can contact me or Kunikida-kun and we will help you.”

He took my hand, placed the card face-down in the center of my palm and curled my fingers over it. Again, nothing happened when his skin met mine. I was dumbfounded. I looked up into his face and saw that he was smiling again, turning the charm back up to eleven as he stroked my hand with his half-bandaged fingers.

“In fact, you can call me if you need aaaanything at all,” he said, winking.

I flushed.

Unable to stomach any more, Kunikida abruptly seized him by the scruff of his neck, lifting him off of the ground (my hands fell out of Dazai’s at once) for a fraction of a second before slamming him down onto the sidewalk in a move straight out of a martial arts movie. Stunned into silence, I could only watch as Kunikida gave me a curt nod, asked me to call him directly if Dazai ever bothered me again and coolly adjusted his glasses, sliding them back up his nose.

“Please excuse us,” he said humbly.

He inclined his head in farewell and immediately dragged his limp companion down the street and out of my sight, Dazai’s tan trench-coat scraping unpleasantly against the sidewalk as he was taken away. My fellow pedestrians and I stared after them for a moment and only when people began walking around again did I remember to look at the card Dazai had placed in my hand.

“Dazai Osamu. Armed Detective Agency.”

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Welcome to Oblivion--Ch. 8

Chapter 8

           “Hey, baby girl,” Roman said as he dropped into the seat beside me in the cafeteria. He had a tray laden with food. There was so much that I couldn’t fathom how he was going to be able to eat it all.

           A tingle ran through my limbs when he called me that. “Hey, Ro,” I replied, trying not to blush.

           “Look at you,” came a lilting Scottish tone from my left. Drew appeared in my peripheral vision and took up the chair across the table from me. He directed his words to Roman. “All that on your plate and not a thing for Addy. You should be ashamed.”

           I rolled my eyes, grinning. “I’m a big girl, Drew. I can get my own food. And for your information, I’ve already eaten.”

           Black brows lifted over bright blue eyes. “Oh really?”

           “Really,” I snarked. “I snuck three of Sonya’s donuts into my first class.”

           Drew looked down at his watch, pointedly glancing back up at me. “That was five hours ago.”

           Roman chuckled and pushed his tray so that we could both eat from it. “Don’t fight him, Addy. Just eat.”

           Huffing, I grabbed a fork and dug into the food Roman offered. I wouldn’t admit how hungry I was or how absolutely broke I was. If it wasn’t for Sonya and her mysterious donuts, I probably would have gone most of the day without anything. Even though I had a meal plan, it was the end of the week, and my meals didn’t roll over until Monday morning. I was still trying to figure out how I was going to make two meals last over the weekend.

           I let my head fall against Roman’s shoulder and tried to hold back the tears that were burning in the back of my eyes. Breaking down in the middle of the cafeteria was something I really wanted to avoid.

           As if he could sense my discomfort, Roman reached down for my hand. Our fingers threaded together as he pulled me close enough for his lips to brush my ear. “What’s wrong?”

           I blinked back the tears, doing my best to keep myself together. “Nothing,” I whispered, my voice cracking on the word. It was no good. I couldn’t lie to Roman.

           To his credit, Roman didn’t pry right there. Drew didn’t say anything either, but I could tell he’d overheard. Shame rushed through me. I sighed and hid my face.

           “Hey,” Roman’s voice lifted and fell. A moment later, he pulled me to my feet. Drew had somehow packed up the food that had been piled on the tray. Roman grabbed up the trays and his bag, then reached for my hand. “Come on.”

           We walked in silence. Roman swept past the cashier girl with a wink and a grin… some privilege of football stars that meant they didn’t pay to take food from the cafeteria. As soon as the glass door shut behind us, Roman pulled me around the corner into one of the study rooms. He guided me onto a padded ottoman and squatted in front of me.

           “What’s wrong, baby girl?” The way he said it just then, it was a soothing endearment. One that promised that there was more to this than the electric spark between us. His palms settled on my knees, almost as if the touch was keeping me anchored to the present.

           I meant to just tell him I was stressed out. That my classes were getting harder and it was taking some time to adjust. But what I said instead was far more personal. It was the pure and simple truth.

           The tears came harder with every word. I was homesick. Alone. So tired that I was barely sleeping. I was either eating too much or not at all, leaving me going days without something real to eat once I ran through my meal limit for the week on my plan. More than anything, I was lost. My life had been about cheer and competition. Everyone said my college career would be the same. But it wasn’t. I busted my knee and the whole world changed. I lost my friends, my future, and everything I thought I knew about myself.

           I didn’t know who I was anymore.

           Roman didn’t say anything at first. He just took my hands in his and squeezed my fingers while he let me cry. I was so embarrassed, so thoroughly ashamed of what I was feeling and what I’d said. If there had been a chance of something happening between Roman and me, I’d just gone and blown it.

           “It’s okay,” he said at last. His thumbs gently wiped the tears from beneath my eyes, fingers tucked my hair back behind my ears. I sniffled, and he dug a napkin out of his bag. “It’s okay, baby girl.”

           “Don’t call me that. Not if you don’t mean it.”

           “Hey,” Roman cooed, tilting my face so that I looked at him. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. You…” He stopped and looked away. I could have sworn that there was pain in his eyes.

           “What, Ro? Just get it out.” I sniffled hard, gripping the ottoman until I thought my nails were going to break.

           Instead of answering, he stood up, pulling me up with him. He tugged me against his warm, solid chest. I felt his breath rustle my hair as he cradled me against him, one hand on my head, the other on the base of my spine. The warmth of his body swept into me, working its way down to my bones.

           He pressed a lingering kiss on my forehead. “Addy… I don’t know if you… when I think about you…” His hold on me tightened. “You’re easy to fall in love with. No matter how hard I try… I can’t stop how I feel about you. All the time.”

           His words burst into my brain like a firebomb. It took a long moment for me to realize what he’d said. I closed my eyes, trying to grasp onto this moment, to remember how I felt when he told me he was falling in love with me. That’s what he said, wasn’t it?

           “Roman…”

           He shushed me softly. “You don’t have to say anything. And you don’t have to feel the same way. If all you want from me is to be friends, I’ll be the best goddamn friend I can be.”

           “Roman,” I said again, more firmly this time. “Stop talking.”

           His black eyes went wide as I grinned up at him. My heart wanted to burst out of my chest as I stood on my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck. My fingers dug into the knot of his hair, pulling free the band and letting it fall free. I curled my fingers in it as I kissed him with every ounce of feeling I had in me.

           Roman growled low in his throat as he clutched me tighter. He lifted me off my feet as he smiled into the kiss. The growl turned to chuckle as he pulled away.

           “So… does that mean you like me?” The smile on his face was enough to brighten the darkest of days.

           “Yes,” I replied, grinning right back. “It means I like you. A lot.”

           For a moment, I thought he was going to start swinging me in a circle. Instead he gently sat me on my feet without letting go of me. He dropped another kiss on my forehead before he released his hold.

           “Good,” Roman purred. He was quiet for a few seconds before his face turned serious. “Is there anything I can do?”

           There was no hesitation when I stepped closer, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my cheek against his chest. He enveloped me in his arms, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with the scent of his cologne and his laundry soap. His hold was warm and soothing. Steady.

           “Call me that again,” I murmured against his sweatshirt.

           I felt the rumble in his chest and smiled. He leaned down and settled his lips near my ear. “Anytime, baby girl.”

***

           “Hey, Addy!” I looked up to see Ember poking her head around our shared bathroom door, a grin on her face. I couldn’t help it. I jumped.

           “Jesus, Ember. Scare the shit out of me, why don’t you.” I laughed anyway.

           “Sorry,” she replied, slipping into the room. “There’s a cookout in the quad. Dana and I wanted you to come with us.”

           I glanced over at the pile of books that I had to read. At the notes that were waiting for me to study. It was Saturday afternoon and summer would be fading fast in the mountains. After the week I’d had, it was time to take a break. Plus, it was free food.

           “Sure,” I quipped brightly. “Give me a few minutes to get ready.”

           Ember bopped her way out of the room, promising to come check on me if I wasn’t out on the quad in five minutes. Rolling my eyes, I pushed away from my desk and dug into my closet to find something. I finally settled on a pair of khaki shorts and a blue tunic top with some flip flops.

           After sweeping my hair up into a messy ponytail, I grabbed my room key and headed out. As soon as I stepped into the hallway, I could hear the music. Apparently, there was a DJ in addition to the food. People milled around in the lobby of the dorm, but it looked like most of the party was taking place outside. Sonya was sitting on top of a table with a pretty strawberry brunette next to her. I recognized the hair.

           We’d finally gotten over that fight we’d had the day Roman came over to pick me up for the first lab. Even when we hadn’t been on the best terms, she still didn’t mind me swiping donuts.

           “Hey,” I called, tucking my keys into my pocket.

           Sonya looked up; a donut caught between her teeth. “Hey, Aththy. Isss ish Ey’on.”

           I felt my brows lift in question. The girl smiled, rolling her eyes. “Peyton Royce,” she said with a beautiful Australian accent. She had big brown eyes and a winning smile. “I’m her girlfriend.”

           I glanced over at Sonya and whispered, “Sparkly shorts?”

           My roommate winked and gave me a thumbs up. I giggled. “Are you a pirate pom?”

           Peyton nodded, her ponytail bouncing. “Yeah. I’ve heard about you. You’re Lynwood High Addison Holloway. You’re amazing.”

           I felt the blush. “Just Addy. And I was okay. Until I blew my ACL.”

           “Doesn’t matter. I’ve seen your stuff. Sonya made me watch a bunch of it. At nationals two years ago, oh my gosh… is it true that you choreographed that?”

           My face burned with embarrassment. Sonya just grinned indulgently as she munched on her donut. “Yeah, I did.”

           Peyton let out a squeal that could burst eardrums. “You have to come to a practice. You must meet our coach. We just lost our choreographer, and with football season starting soon, we can’t afford to be without one. I’ll text you the schedule!”

           Sonya took Peyton by the hand and pulled her back, as if she was trying to get a handle on her.

           “Addy!” I turned at the sound of my name—just in time to get swept up in a tangle of arms. It took a moment to realize that it was Ember and Dana. “I can’t believe you actually came to the party.”

           I made a face at Ember. “Geeze, what the hell, Ember? I know how to have fun!”

           Dana grinned. “What’s this I hear about you being able to dance?”

[vore-scientist]

In Which A Curse (or two) Is Broken

(SFW GT M/f platonic safe/soft vore fluff with plot! No warnings) 

A Tale of the Mystic Woods

Gardening! Magic Lessons! Fluffy Vore! (A brief gay fairytale???) Yeah! That’s what you’ll find in this story!

Princess Sophia and Yonah the Wizard are my OCs, they are both adults, and part of my Mystic Woods series. I commissioned art for this chapter! So that’s in there too! 

Warnings: NONE! NO WARNINGS!

--- Today was going to be a beautiful day and it had only just begun. The sun shone through the white fluffy clouds, casting it’s warmth into the clearing. A few of the more lively plants turned their flowers towards it in reverence, while the even more lively ones fought each other for it’s attention. The plants that couldn’t move silently judged such antics. There was plenty of sun to go around. Soon enough the sun took care of the last bits of dew from even the most shaded of leaves. Around the same time Yonah and Sophia were finishing up breakfast. At the very least Sophia was. Sitting at the smaller table set upon Yonah’s it almost looked like Yonah had set up a tea party for his dolls. Except it was one doll. And it wasn’t a doll it was a princess. Not just any princess, but his best friend and student. Who looked rather adorable sitting across from him on her little chair, eating off her little plate, and drinking from her little cup. She would claim the same about him, and she would claim she wasn’t little because he was giant. Of course watching him eat was a little less charming since he was large enough to eat her if he so chose.

Which he did. Frequently. “Slow down! You’re going to choke or something,” Yonah warned as Sophia shoveled yoghurt, berries, and toast into her mouth with concerning energy.  “The sooner I finish the sooner you can teach me to enchant things!” she said between mouthfuls. “A few minutes isn’t going to make a difference, besides I don’t have anything for you to enchant,” he braced himself for the explosion. Sophia’s mouth hung open and half-chewed food fell back into her bowl in a very undignified manner. Yonah tried not to laugh. She closed her mouth and swallowed the rest. Then she opened her mouth again. “You’ve had all week to prepare and you’re telling me now you have NOTHING! YOU’RE A HORRIBLE TEACHER!” She looked she was about to cry. Or throw up. Or both. Oof. That stung a lot. She had clearly been looking forward to the lesson. It was not his intention to disappoint her so thoroughly. “Hey hey! The lesson is still happening!” He got up and went to the side of the table and bent down, resting his head in his elbows. Sophia turned away. He reached over and turned her chair, forcing her to face him. She protested but gave him her attention when she saw his wide, playful smile. “We just have to do some gardening first!” - Just like with breakfast, Sophia got dressed faster than Yonah. He found her on the workshop windowsill in her yellow short-sleeved shirt, orange overalls, thick leather boots, and what used to be sky-blue gloves. This look was echoed in his own outfit, which was the same except the colors were pink, grey-ish purple, sandals, and green. Instead of his wizard’s hat he had on a straw one. It was still a wizard’s hat. “Aww come on!!!” Sophia groaned as Yonah shrank down to the miniscule height of 2.3 meters and stood next to Sophia on the windowsill. At 1.6 meters she was about eye level with his navel. Chin level? “Climbing is good exercise!” he said as he started to climb down the sturdy vines that coiled around the tower in a permanent embrace. Grumbling, but still careful, she followed. The wizard smiled down at her as she joined him in the garden but she was focused on one thing. The trees at the edge of the garden that were weighed down by bright red and green apples. She ran. “HEY!” a large hand appeared in her way and she bounced off of it. Turning her head she gave him a dirty look. “Still in such a rush! There is work to do first. Come on,” he said. He took off his hat and stuck his arm in, pulling out watering cans and gardening tools. For the plants that got fed today he pulled out sacks of food and flasks of specially formulated water. Sophia snagged the one with a dragon’s face embroidered on it and ran to the flower bed containing the fire-breathing snapdragons. “ONE PER FLOWER!” he reminded her. “I KNOW!” she shouted back. Scores of little flowers that evoked the snouts of dragons eagerly jostled to greet the princess who squat next to the flower bed. With 23 stalks, each a different color, their movements were a bit discombobulating. It would be worse if they could physically change their position; thankfully they could only bend and twist their stems and stalks. “Good morning lovelies!” Sophia sang. A flower on the pearl stalk spewed a small flame at her and she chided it “Ch-Ch-Ch!” she chirped, rubbing the top of its head with a single finger. “I’m not Yonah remember! No fire!” She took out the food pellets and the flowers nibbled at her hand. Petals as soft as velvet. Thankfully they didn’t have teeth like real dragons, even if they breathed fire like them. They could tell the difference between Sophia and Yonah, but they just got excited sometimes. And who could blame them? It was feeding day! Each stalk is fed individually, a bit like feeding animals at a petting zoo. If such things existed in this world. And if the animals all had a bunch of little mouths on their faces. Sophia got attention of a single stalk and each flower would take a pellet. Some would get greedy and take more than one but their delicate flower mouths are very soft. A pinch to their cheeks and the food just falls right out. Once a flower was satisfied it would move and let another take its place. The hard part was keeping the other stalks out of the way. They would lean over and snake under her arms. It wasn’t their fault they had no patience, they barely had brains. They were plants. Next she watered the Vampire Fern while Yonah pruned the Venomous Shocking Nettle. Sophia was not allowed near the nettle yet, it didn’t like her. It didn’t like Yonah either. The Vampire Fern required specially treated water containing ferrous iron along with a source of sugars, fats, and proteins. In the wild it only grew caves, using the guano of vampire (like, real vampire) bats for nutrients and water. Growing it in sunlight was not advised as it resulted in strange mutations. But that’s what Yonah wanted: he was studying the effects of sunlight and had a theory one could predict and even manipulate the mutations with different sources of supplemented nutrients. The bed for this cultivation was set up as a grid and each square had a label to indicate what supplement it got. She was just about to water Row 5 Column 1 with a solution of 10% heat inactivated troll’s blood when she spotted a salamander. A common fire salamander with black skin and yellow spots. Except the pattern was slightly odd. On its shiny black head there was a ring of yellow dots. The salamander looked up at her and licked its eyes. “Hey little buddy! You don’t want this water, it will make you sick! Here,” she held out her hand. Instead of running away it crawled onto her palm without hesitation. “What’s got you all giggly?” Yonah called from across the garden. “I found a salamander!” A shadow fell over her. Almost as if he had teleported, Yonah was behind her. Heat radiated off of him as he looked past her and at the salamander in her hands. He bent down and reached for it, his expression hardened and dark. Sophia pulled her hand away in horror. “Oh no you don’t! I found it and I’m not letting you use this cutie in one of your awful potions!” The darkness and heat fell away as Yonah looked at her with a “glad to know you think so highly of me” expression. “The big bad wizard is not going to hurt you” Sophia cooed at the salamander, then glared at Yonah, “RIGHT” “No, I’m not gonna hurt him,” he said, locking eyes with the creature again. “May I?” Sophia looked from him to the salamander and handed it over. The either very brave or very foolish amphibian waddled onto Yonah’s finger. He brought it up to his eyes and scowled as it licked his knuckles. “I told you to scram last week! What are you still doing here?” The salamander did a little dance, but otherwise didn’t answer. “Are you feeling ok?” Sophia asked the wizard who was talking to a salamander. Yonah sighed. “This is an enchanted prince,” he explained and Sophia relaxed considerably, “I found him last week and told him that he needs to go somewhere else. His true love isn’t going to find him here, I get thieves, not nobles or royals- wait!” he grinned a wicked grin and Sophia grew worried again as he offered the creature back to her. She didn’t take it back. “You’re here! You can break his curse and he can finally leave!” “Why me!?” “Because it takes either True Love’s kiss or anyone of nobility, the curses aren’t picky when it comes to someone of status.” “No way!” she said, pushing his salamander adorned hand away, “This is just a regular salamander and you’re trying to get me to kiss it!” “I’m serious” “Then you kiss it!” “I’m not royalty, and I’m certainly not his True Love. It won’t work.” He pressed a finger onto the creature’s head and it’s eyes bulged a little and it stuck out its tongue. “Isn’t that right?” She crossed her arms narrowed her eyes. The salamander looked blankly into the distance. “Prove it!” Yonah closed his eyes and sighed. Not taking his eyes off Sophia he brought the salamander to his lips and gave it a gentle peck. Nothing happened. /See?/ he raised his eyes at her, holding out the salamander for her to take. The salamander held up it’s head and stuck out its tongue out as if to say “he told you so.” Growling she took it back. It hopped eagerly into her hands. “Fine. Here goes nothing.” She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the cold slimy sensation and pressed her lips to the salamander’s side. It was only slimy for a brief second, since the next she was kissing the cheek of a young prince! His hands were in hers. He stood up, several inches taller than Sophia and wearing a fancy golden crown. The prince was so full of excitement he was hopping up and down. He didn’t let go of her hand. “Oh my! I’m me!” He cheered. Then he got on one knee. “You have the thanks of Prince Fionn of Ziral, and his heart! Our wedding shall be most glorious!” Sophia jerked her hand away, her blood cold and pulsing like mad. “Wedding!?” “Of course, you saved me, we must be wed!” “Oh fuck no,” Sophia stepped back and looked fearfully at Yonah. She had only been here a short time! Barely started magic training! She wasn’t about to marry a salamander prince.   “Unfortunately,” Yonah stepped right behind the prince who paled upon looking up, “the princess Sophia is not available” He smiled a hungry smile. “Hello prince, nice to finally meet you” his voice was low and hostile, “You see, I’m an Evil Wizard and the princess is my captive. Breaking your curse does not negate that.” The prince looked like he was about to fall to pieces, but he was better trained than that “Then… then I’ll just have to rescue her from you! I can’t return home without a fiancé.” Yonah let out a thunderous laugh. Fionn yelped and even Sophia felt her heart skip a beat. She often forgot how good Yonah was at his job. “Rescue her?” Yonah made his eyes glow and hair start smoking like hot coals. “A scrawny little thing like you? There’s a reason you were the cursed one in your fairytale. If you want I could turn you into something else, as long as you leave my garden.” “Say! Just a thought!” Sophia piped up. The two men looked at her. “Is there, perhaps, another cursed person in the garden?” The prince brightened, fear forgotten, “Yes! Some lord or lady I think! They’re a snail over by the tomatoes!” Yonah looked down at the prince accusatorily. The prince grinned sheepishly, “The birds talked about them. Gossips you know.” A minute later Sophia returned with the most beautiful snail any of them had ever seen. It’s shell was practically encrusted with jewels. She handed it to Prince Fionn and he kissed it. Now there were three humans, well, three and a half, and two of which were very excited to be married. The snail turned out to be a nobleman named Kisan Icuda, who appeared wearing a stunning embroidered and rhinestoned vest. He couldn’t believe his luck that fate would bring him a prince. He was sure some lost merchant’s apprentice would find him. But a prince! The gods were smiling upon him. “That was a stroke of genius,” said Yonah, who was at Sophia’s side. “I can’t believe we didn’t notice the snail before.” She basked in his praise. The newly engaged couple skipped off into the woods to live happily ever after. But not before Yonah gave them a flawless ruby rose as an pre-wedding present. They were disappointed that Yonah couldn't attend thanks to not being allowed to stray far from his tower, and peeved that Sophia refused to attend without Yonah. They were further disheartened when Yonah shot down the idea to hold the wedding in his clearing. But not so disheartened as to ruin the moment. They did convince him to hold an engagement party. Somehow. “Hey don’t worry about the party, I’ll take care of it,” said Sophia, “I can get Daniel to help. He’s an amazing event planner!” Yonah wasn’t looking forward to hosting any event but was relieved that he didn’t have to do anything. He had no idea how to organize a party. -- Gardening was done! It was time to pick apples! The trees were sagging with them but still Sophia couldn’t reach. And Yonah didn’t need a ladder. The apples might be normal size but the trees were a bit larger than your average apple-bearing arboreal. “Alright, up you get!” Yonah picked her up by her waist and placed her on the lowest branch of the tree. “Naughty princesses get put in the tree for their crimes.” “I thought naughty princesses get eaten by giants” she sneered, but she climbed higher and began picking the apples. Tossing them down to the basket below. She threw one at Yonah’s head but he caught it. “Mmmm, maybe later,” said Yonah licking his lips thoughtfully, “Depends on how you do in today’s lesson.” He dropped the apple in the basket. “Don’t get your hopes up! I plan to nail enchanting some stupid apples.” The basket Yonah held was pretty large but it filled fast. There were so many apples that Sophia swore that new ones were growing as fast as she was picking. Yonah would reach up and pull a branch down, weeding his fingers along it to fell the apples right into the basket. Once it was full Sophia climbed down, landing on top of the bountiful harvest. It wasn’t comfortable but Yonah’s incredulous expression was worth it. She proudly picked up an apple and took a crisp bite.

(art by @pythonpie / @ravenous-beasts) “Now! Time for magic!” Yonah shook his head. “No, it’s time for lunch.” Sophia would have complained but he was absolutely right. Taking care of a magic garden was hungry work. -- FINALLY! It was time for magic! After a light lunch and changing out of their dirty gardening clothes, Yonah sat at his workbench and Sophia stood upon it. The basket of apples rested next to her. Except for one, which rested on a small stool in front of her. “So, what’s first, Eternal sleep? Petrification? Transformation? Arcane disease? Curse?” She was very excited, “Or! Are we doing beneficial spells? Super strength? Invisibility? Fire breathing?” Yonah rested his head on his hands, “Do you know any of those spells?” Sophia pouted and chuffed her heel on the wooden surface of the desk, “No.” Yonah went over to his cabinet and retrieved two small jars, which in his hands were like cylindrical marbles. One full of sunflower seeds and another of honey. Sophia took the jar of sunflower seeds.  “A light spell? Why would anyone put a light spell on an apple! It would be obviously enchanted!” she said, “And I don’t need seeds to cast light anymore, see.” She put the jar down and held out her hand, concentrating on pulling a little bit of magic to her. The light spell was a very simple spell. While learning to cast it the component to generate the magical identity was necessary. Now she could construct it herself with the just magical words and focus. “Ha!” a small pinprick of light spun a few inches over her palm. “You still need components for enchantments, at least for now. You’re right, a light enchantment is simple, and eventually you’ll be able to easily apply it to anything. But anything more complicated needs to be built from magical and physical pieces.” “I’ve seen you enchant things without components!” she countered, letting the light fade away. “No, you’ve seen me use enchantments from my staff. I still had to construct those ahead of time. What do you think I do all day? Just read books?” “Oh, right.” The staff thing. The method by which wizards stored so many and so powerful spells in their staves was a tightly guarded secret. As was the process used to build them to be veritable arcane sponges. Staves could absorb absurd magic into them; This somehow did not come into conflict with the spells. “What’s the honey for?” “Sticky.” “Of course!” the spell identity after all. It had to stick to the target. Honey. Duh. “The first step to enchanting is attaching the spell to the object. It’s not the same as casting a spell on an object. It’s more permanent. More intimate. You’re weaving the magic into the apple itself. We will start with that” “There’s more?” “Oh yes; if you can get the apple to glow I’ll be very impressed.” “Just... get it to glow?” “Well, glow until the apple rots. I’ll be able to tell if you did it correctly, we aren’t going to sit for days see wait for days to if it stops glowing before that” Sophia nodded and cracked her knuckles. Magic was complicated! But she was determined. - She was not nailing this at all. So far the trickiest part was the honey. Pulling the light identity out of the seeds was easy. But pulling the property of stickiness out of the honey was proving difficult. And it felt WEIRD. At first she thought she was doing it wrong when she started to feel sticky all over, like her sweat was made of tar, like her lungs were full of tar. The sensation was so awful it stopped her from progressing with the procedure. “How do you deal with this?” she gasped for breath as she released the magic. The apple stood on the stool un-molested. The weight of the non-existent tar sweat lingered. Yonah provided his hand for her to lean on. “I don’t. Not anymore. Once you understand the property you’ll able to avoid the side-effect of feeling it. And even replicate it without the component.” If he said so. She tried again, taking a deep breath. Maybe she should try to conjure stickiness before the light. Not having to hold onto the light spell while extracting the adhesion helped a lot. She still felt icky, but she could breath. That was an improvement. And as Yonah had said: she needed the seeds now that she was doing two things at once. She held it between her fingers and it fizzled as she spoke the spell, holding onto the honey’s essence. “That’s it! Now, figure out how each fit together, and NO-!” She slammed her hands together. BANG! She would have been thrown back if Yonah hadn’t seized her hands in one of his to contain the explosion. Smoke trickled from between his fingers. “That’s a fine way to blow yourself up! Be delicate,” he warned, letting go of her hands, which were unharmed. “Feel the shape of the magic and put it together, it will fit. It always does.” “Again.” This time she didn’t move her hands, but her fingers. Exploring the magic. The horrible sticky feeling came back as she felt the “shape” of the honey’s magic. Almost there. Just. a nudge and a turn. “AH!” She dropped it. “Good! Again!” Knowing what to expect she concentrated but wasn’t as tense or jumpy. This time the magic felt like it wanted her to find the edges and curves, to even make them herself. “There you go!” Yonah’s voice sounded distant as her ears felt like they were filled with molasses. But she had done it. A weight lifted off her shoulders as the two spells linked and she could support them together rather than tugging at them individually. “Ok, use the sticky part to join it to the apple” he instructed. She moved her hands, but Yonah didn’t react this time. Until she pushed the spell to the apple. At which point he inserted his palm as a wall in between her at it. She heard a wet POP. Yonah flipped his hand around and showed her the splatter of apple. “Damn it! I thought I had it!” She sat down. She needed to catch her breath and her arms were shaking. “That was a really good first try!” he said, licking the apple bits from his hand before placing a new apple on the stool. In truth he was a little impressed at her ability to notice and manipulate the magic so quickly. Almost as quickly as he had. However he had his heritage on his side. Fire Witches innately generated, felt, and controlled magic. As a half-fire witch he generated a decent amount of magic, but awareness and manipulation came much easier to him than for humans. Not that it was actually easy. Maybe he was just a really good teacher. “First try? What have I been doing so far?” He smiled and picked the princess up to hold her at eye level. There was no harshness in his eyes and Sophia let her tension go into his warm hands.  He took a deep breath through his nose. The princess smelled strongly of honey.  “Learning how to feel magic. Anyone can learn to cast simple spells if they just concentrate hard enough and know the words, even without the components to make it easier. You have to expand your awareness and control of the world to do real magic.” “Expanding my awareness is exhausting. Can I take a break? No! Not there!” But she laughed as he brought her to his mouth and he mimed eating her. Partially ajar lips and a gentle tongue pressed into her middle and his nose rubbed against her face. “I feel sticky enough.” Yonah laughed too; his warm breath washing over her. -- After a quick rest (which involved fresh apple juice) Sophia was ready to give it another shot. Or two. Or twenty. Or fifty. Not every apple exploded. They melted, evaporated, turned to dust, dried up, became intangible and THEN exploded, and rotted before their very eyes. Sometimes they would glow for just a moment before the catastrophic failure. By apple 60 she had just enough energy for one more attempt. Steady. Steady. Fit the spells onto and into the apple. She released the spells and collapsed, shielding her face. Nothing happened. She tried to get up but her body wouldn’t cooperate. She could open her eyes and move her head. Yonah had his staff out and the apple in between his fingers. He smiled and placed the apple near her face. It wasn’t glowing, but it was very shiny and dappled with what looked like dew. “Hmmm… most of the light spell got lost in the application. But,” he said, “this is farther than I thought you would get! The spell is sticking, for now. It will fall off in about 12 hours.” “A very good attempt!” he concluded. Sophia grunted in triumph. And then grunted in frustration as she felt Yonah apply a dab of gold-stained-glass slurry to her forehead. “So not good enough to avoid being eaten?” She held onto his finger. “Nope,” he poked her gently, “But one last thing,” he took his finger back, “Activate your enchantment.” Sophia sat up and scrunched up her face. She had done this before. It was easy. A little magic; A short rhyme. Focus. She spoke the words and the glass on her head fizzled away. “Fuck!” She fell back again. Yonah’s face loomed over her. “Too drained?” he scooped her up. He wasn’t angry, but he wasn’t pleased. She held his fingers and nodded. He used his thumb to lift her face. “Before I eat you I want you to promise to never let that happen again. Always make sure you have enough magic to cast it; it could mean the difference between life and death.” “I- I never thought of that.” He was scared for her! She realized as her breath precipitated on is glasses. His big brown eyes were full of concern. It was true. Yonah wasn’t always around to protect her, especially when she ventured farther away from his tower than he could. And he wouldn’t be in charge of her well being forever. It had not occurred to her that being able to turn oneself into nearly indestructible glass could benefit her in situations other than being eaten by a grumpy wizard. Then he licked her bodily and she sputtered back to reality. She flicked some of his own spit at his face, peppering his spectacles as his eyes glinted playfully. “You know what you taste like?” he said, licking his lips and pulling off her shoes socks, tucking them into his hat. Even if her clothing turned to glass along with her, she preferred to be barefoot. “I’ve told you before I don’t want to know.” she warned. “Honey,” he licked her again and held one of her arms between his teeth, massaging her gently “and apples.” Ah. Not really surprising since she spent hours familiarizing herself in the “essence” of the honey and after that first apple Yonah stopped shielding her from debris. He let go of her arm and held his mouth open, tongue over his teeth. Sophia rolled her eyes and reached in, stroking his tongue. She couldn’t fit in his mouth entirely, her waist pressed against his bottom teeth, partly shielded by his tongue when he moved underneath her like a living waterbed.  Staring down the throat of a half-giant shouldn’t be this pleasant and calming. She was covered in drool and surrounded by teeth! She was literally resting between his jaws, at any moment he could bite her in half! She wasn’t even glass yet, he was just tasting her. There was nothing to fear. This was a friendly mouth. He was her best friend as well as her mentor. She was safe. Eventually he moved his hand and she slid out. He re-applied the slurry and whispered the spell. With a mighty *POOF* of sparkling purple dust the Princess Sophia was turned into a living statue of glass. Yonah held her up by her shirt and she flopped around, her limbs clinking together like the strangest wind-chime. He opened his mouth wide and lowered her in. The smooth glass of her skin and clothing sliding across his tongue. He let go when she was held stable between his teeth. She leaned forward and kissed the bridge of his nose, laughing as he blushed and went cross eyed to look at her. Before he tipped his head back, took a deep breath, and swallowed. Her legs and hips were pulled into his throat. Her chest pulled into his mouth. She twisted around so she could look out and he gagged slightly as she pulled at his front teeth, yanking her lower half slightly out of his throat, just enough to lean over his teeth. Chuckles vibrated all around her. A finger pressed into her face and very softly shoving her waist back into his esophagus so that she rested on his tongue again. She wrapped her arms around his tongue giving it a tight squeeze. Then he swallowed again, smoothly pulling her away. Her hands were the last thing to disappear into his gullet. Yonah held a hand to his throat as it stretched to welcome the Princess before she slipped down past his collar. She wasn’t struggling this time, he noted, the pressure moving by his heart with another swallow. Must be pretty exhausted. Or peeved at him. No. Exhausted: otherwise she wouldn’t have kissed him. Soon enough she reached his stomach, filling it up wonderfully. He felt her stretch out and he prodded at what he figured was her hand. “All good?” “All good.” He got up and meandered downstairs, still holding a hand to his chest. The weight of the glass princess bounced softly as he descended the stairs. An odd but not off-putting sensation. Sophia liked going downstairs; it made Yonah’s stomach swing a bit. Like a hammock. Made of flesh. Pity she was too tired to cast the light spell. The darkness was so total. But she was surrounded on all sides by her friend. The walls were soft, squishy, and pleasantly warm. She ran her hands across the folds, pressing her fingers in like she was playing the piano. Eventually the swinging stopped and the walls squished around her even more. Yonah sat down in his armchair and pressed his hand against the hard lump in that rested inside him. The princess jovially protested by pushing back. He drummed his fingers and Sophia giggled. It was during moments like when he couldn’t believe that he had once been against Sophia coming to live with him; that he had tried his best to get her to leave. Of course at the time he didn’t realize that having a student was just what he needed. That his student would become his best friend. And he never would have dreamed he could successfully pull off the feat of enchanting a person so he could eat them safely and regularly. He couldn’t have predicted that she would not just tolerate it but like it. Request it! Sure she wasn’t always thrilled but sometimes she asked to be eaten! And ever since his friends found out about Sophia they were working on some spell or charm to replicate the protection her curse provided but on a less permanent scale. Things were going to be really weird if they pulled it off. He hoped they did. He desperately wanted to eat them. Four hours with someone who was almost as happy as he was was so different than a few minutes with a terrified thief. Sure their terror was fun. Sure it was exciting. But it wasn’t as intimate, it wasn’t as personal. Thieves didn’t stroke his insides tenderly, or enjoy his antagonizing. He didn’t want them to, but it was such a contrast. After a few minutes of just appreciating Sophia’s presence he poked at her. “Would you like me to read while you in there?” The princess moved sharply, finding a new position. “Huh, wha? Read?” “Oh... were you sleeping?” oops. “Almost, but. Hm...” stalling for time she continued to adjust her position. She was tired and kinda wanted to return to her nap. Then again… the latest issue of The Adventure Zone had just been delivered. The walls rolled over her as she felt him reach for it on the coffee table. The magazine came out twice a month, with five stories in each issue for a total of ten stories that updated monthly. Sometimes there were bonus one-off stories that, if they were popular enough, would replace a story once one ended. The great thing about this magazine was it came in all sizes, including “oger” size which was about the right size for Yonah. A little smaller than perfect, but with large font (Ogers have bad eyesight and can’t wear glasses. They always break them), so it balanced out. “What stories are in this issue?” she asked. “Let’s see.” Yonah opened to the table of contents. “Integrated!” Oh. Integrated was great! Set in the far future and in space, Integrated followed the adventures of a pair of secret agents! One a space alien, Leto, the other an Elf, Paetric. They took on crazy villains as they balanced work life and personal life. Paetric has a wife and family, but Leto’s life is their work. The elf took every opportunity to improve their work partner’s social life. The problem was the alien didn’t think very highly of earth’s races. To them they were lesser life forms. This made their partnership contentious. Of course, 30 chapters in, Leto’s bad attitude and opinions had improved significantly. They were hot on the trail of an evil scientist named Morris who, under the guise of setting up weather monitoring equipment, had planted Terraforming Devices on several colonized planets. His intent; activate them all at once and hold the populations for ransom. Would Leto and Paetric save the day? “Artie the Artificer” That one was ok Artie was an artificer who, by combining clockwork and magic, had built a time machine. It malfunctioned the first time he used and sent rips through spacetime. Now he had to fix all of the holes, patch all of the mistakes. It lost the plot a while ago, but each new chapter was fun if taken as its own story unconnected to the bigger picture. “Balance” Now this one was interesting. It was new and off to a rocky start. The main characters were three idiots and so far are they had done was explore some dungeon for gold and glory. It’s high quality and quantity of comedy was the only reason they kept reading after chapter 1. But recently it had picked up. Secret moon bases and agencies that protected the realm with crazy magic and technology! “Elementary” Elementary was about a squad of four investigators each a different elemental. Both she and Yonah followed that story religiously. Even before they lived together. After initially hating having to work together, Water and Fire were slowly falling in Love! Could such opposing elements make it work? Meanwhile, fairies all over town are going missing, yet at the same time the flow of black market fairy dust was slowing down. The Elementals were on The Case! Last chapter Fire has been reckless and acted without thinking. Civilians got injured. Would Fire remain on the team? Could they solve the case before the Fey Court Gangs took matters into their own hands and started a Fairy War? Sophia had to know. Yonah did too. “Do you even have to ask?” She said, kicking out and then snuggling deep into the softly pulsing folds of muscle. Laughter rang around her and the stomach tensed and squished in time. It was no use trying to steady herself as the chamber bounced her up and down. Sophia loved Yonah’s laugh; it was much higher than one would expect, his deep laughs he reserved for “evil” purposes, but it was still powerful.  Even after the laughter subsided the walls continued to gently roll down her body in a regular motion. Trying and failing to soften her up. She was sitting in a pool of fluids that would be very dangerous if she was not currently made of glass. But she was glass, and therefore there was no danger. Instead of threatening it was relaxing. She didn’t even need to breath in her current state but her body continued to inhale and exhale, filling her with warm air. It was the perfect end to a nearly perfect day. Was there anything be better than gardening, learning magic, and finishing it all up with hanging out inside of your best friend who was a half-giant wizard? No! Certainly not! Yonah’s voice rumbled like thunder made of cotton around her; powerful and soft. She let the muscles push her around as he started to read.

[FIN]

[Thanks for reading! please reblog! Or message me telling me what you think! I crave feedback! For more mystic woods go to vore-scientist(.)tumblr(.)com(/)tagged(/)+mystic+woods+story but remove the () or search ‘mystic woods story’] 

[thetrueghostqueen]

Your Fate is Sealed

masterlist cover characters prologue ch 1 ch 2 ch 3 ch 4 ch 5 ch 6 ch 7 ch 8  

    He woke with a start. Fear encasing his body like a sarcophagus. Body soaked and clothes sticking to him as if he took a dunk in a pool fully dressed. His heart played a violent drum solo against his ribcage.

   Even with eyes wide open he could see the horrifying images that tormented him in sleep. One by one he saw the agonizingly terrible deaths of super natural and mortal beings alike. The scenes so vivid and real that he could smell the stench of burning flesh, the coppery scent of blood, and death in his nose. In the sweet blissful silence that night is supposed to bring his ears were filled with the anguished cries and terrifying screams of the dying.

   He's never had a nightmare like that before. Hell, he doesn't remember ever having a dream let alone a bad one. He laid still until his heart slowed and his vision cleared. When he felt composed enough to not collapse on the floor he got out of bed.

   He quietly made his was to the kitchen for a glass of water. His body may be soaked from sweat but his throat felt dry like a desert.

   With every sip of water he felt his body begin to relax. Slowly the knotted muscles loosened. He poured himself another glass and headed to the couch. He wasn't ready to go back to bed. 

   He leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes. The gentle sounds of muffled snores and the ticking of the clock helping to relax him more as well as soothe his weary and terrified mind.

   He has no idea how long he sat there before finally being tired enough to try sleeping again. A part of him wanted to just curl up on the couch, but he didn't want to tell his family about his nightmare. He didn't want to give them another reason to look down on him as weak and pathetic. 

   With a sigh he stood up from the couch. He walked into the kitchen to place his glass in the sink and quietly padded his way back towards his room. As he passed the couch something on the floor caught his attention. On the floor was a small tarnished disk. He picked it up. There was writing on it in a language he couldn't even begin to decipher. He shrugged and palmed it in his hand to take it with him. Maybe one of his siblings would know or those girls. He'd ask in the morning.

   He continued on back towards his room with the hopes of falling into a blissful and dreamless sleep. His eyes started to drift shut as he was walking. A sound that was out of place caused them to snap back open.

   There was something or someone by his door. Even in the dark the eyes that stared back at him were blacker than anything he had ever seen. He stood still. His body frozen in fear. He watched as it opened its mouth to speak. Sharp pointed teeth hidden by too thin lips. Its words causing a cold sweat to drip down his back. 

        " They will die, YOU WILL ALL DIE."

   He might have screamed. Maybe he didn't. He's not quite sure. What he does know is blackness. His fear was so strong it was palpable and then absolute nothingness.

   V woke to screaming. Was it his? No, at least it didn't sound like him. He was met with the faces of his family as he opened his eyes. It was definitely not him screaming. It was his family screaming at him. Why? Because they caught him passed out on the floor? No, that didn't seem right either. They were accusing him of something. As the haze left his mind he focused on his family. " What's going on?" He rasped.

   "Is this your idea of a prank? Did you think it would be funny?"

   V craned his neck to look back at Jin who questioned him. " I don't understand."

   With a look his still hazy addled brain couldn't decipher, Jin pushed Namjoon out of the way and pointed to the wall behind them.

   V looked. There on the wall words were written. Was that blood? He read the words three times before looking at the faces of his family again. 

    THE DESTROYER OF WORLDS IS FREE. THEY WILL DIE YOU WILL ALL DIE

   He swallowed. The fear that had engulfed his being since the nightmare ebbed away only to be replaced by anger. How could they think that he did this? Admittedly he was on the floor at the scene of the crime, but seriously what kind of moron would pass out and get caught?

   The glares on his family's faces didn't change. He sighed and sat up. Running his finger through his hair he spoke. "It wasn't me."

   Someone scoffed. He wasn't sure who. It really didn't matter. "Seriously it wasn't me. I don't even know what that means." Which was true. The thing that caused him to pass out said some of that before, but he didn't understand. He kept his mouth closed about the events that happened before they found him. They were already blaming him and he figured they would just think he was making excuses.

   With a frustrated sigh he stood up so that they were on an even playing field. He saw Adarra and Jinyoung whispering. Namjoon, Jin, Jaebum, and Mark continued to glare at him. Yugyeom, Jackson, Youngjae, and Jungkook looked wary and worried. BamBam, Yoongi, and Hoseok refused to look at him. Jimin was the only one that looked at him concerned. Words unspoken, he nodded at Jimin. Jimin stepped to him, wrapped his arms around him, and moved him to his bedroom.

   Once inside with the door closed from the prying and angry eyes of the rest of the family. Jimin wrapped his arms around him for comfort.

  The fear that jolted him awake in the middle of the night resurfaced and he clutched onto Jimin's shirt and cried into his chest. They sat there on their bed the only sounds being V's sobs for a time.

   When the sobs died down to silent tears Jimin asked what happened. V told him. Told him everything. The nightmare, the feeling when he woke, the thing he saw before passing out.

   Jimin didn't speak for awhile after V confessed. He sat there in thought rubbing calming circles into his back. 

   "Do you think I'm crazy?" V asked.

   The hand on his back paused. "No, I don't love. I was just thinking about everything you said and remembering when we met the girls. You said you saw someone else and everyone told you that you were wrong. Then Jackson ran out of the canteen. I'm wondering if there is a connection between what happened tonight and what you saw then."

   V sat up to study Jimin's face. There was no disgust or anger. He looked like he believed him. "Thank you." he whispered.

   Jimin didn't need to ask what he was being thanked for he understood. He smiled at V and hugged him tighter. He knew V would never pull a prank to scare or harm anyone. He lived for making everyone smile and laugh. The others knew that too. They were just frightened.  They would come around. They would also apologize to V even if he had to beat them to do it. He was going to have a word with the family without V present.

   "Why don't you go and take a relaxing shower. We will talk more later." Jimin suggested.

   V nodded. Jimin stayed until he was sure that V was okay and in the shower. He quickly made his way to the main living area where everyone was sitting.

   They all looked his way when he came in. Jimin's eyes located Jackson and he bee lined straight to him. "The other day you fled the canteen when V said he saw a third girl, why?"

   Jackson stared at Jimin. "I had to talk to my dad."

   Jimin waited for Jackson to continue. When it was clear he wouldn't Jimin snarled. "Why?"

  Jackson began to get agitated. He had to speak to his father. Whose business was it to know why? "Why does it matter?" 

Jimin pulled at his hair in frustration. "It matters  because of that man in there." He pointed in the direction of the bedrooms. "V is in there terrified of that he's going crazy seeing things that aren't there. He isn't  crazy though is he? He really is seeing something, and you know what it is."

    Jimin watched Jackson's face pale. He definitely knew something. By the Gods he was going to spill or Jimin would beat him bloody. 

   Everyone watched Jackson and Jimin in silence. It surprised no one that Jimin would take V's side. He always did. They were used  to V and Jimin vs. the world. What surprised and shamed them was how quick they blamed V for the words on the wall. 

  A frustrated groan sounded from Jackson before he spoke. "I don't know what I can really say. I don't think V is crazy, but I don't know how to explain anything either. I went to my father when V mentioned seeing another female. Tae and Yen used to complain of the same thing when they were younger. My father was convinced it was a bad soul that attached itself to them. It can scare them but not physically harm."

   Jimin studied Jackson. "Are you sure that it can't harm? I remember Yen getting ready to speak before she wound up on the floor."

   "Yen has always been clumsy."

   Jimin nodded at Jackson's response. "Can you call the girls?"

   The rest of the family vehemently disagreed. They were all still in various states of undress. Not appropriate for company, but their cries fell on deaf ears. One second it was only family and the next the two girls were there.

  Tae started to smile and greet but stopped when she took in all the somber expressions.  Yen was curled up in a ball still asleep. Tae sent a questioning look to Jackson.

   Jackson gave her a soft smile. " Morning, baby. Something happened and Jimin wants to talk with you." Jackson explained.

   Tae nodded and turned her attention to Jimin. She stood in silence as he explained everything that V told him. 

   Tae glanced at the wall, looked down at her sleeping sister, and disappeared. She reappeared a moment later with Hades in tow.

  Ignoring the Gods she pulled him over to the wall with the writing. "Tell me again that Yen and I are crazy." she spat.

   Hades didn't speak. He just stared at the wall before turning around to face the room. He looked at all the faces staring back at him. He wanted to commit all of their beautiful faces to memory before completely sealing their fate.

   His heart was heavy for the second time in his immortal existence. With sad eyes he turned to Tae. "Wake your sister. I need to get Bastet and Thoth." He was gone.

[thaisibir]

Be Kind To Yourself (2) - Wanda-centric Infinity War alt ending

Chapter 2/6: Numb Fandom: Avengers Characters: mainly [Wanda, Vision], T’Challa, Shuri, IW cast Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Wanda’s remarkable feat against Thanos leaves her with crushed arms and stroke-like symptoms. She feels unworthy of the gratitude and medical care from Wakanda, because what hurts her the most, still, was guilt. Always the guilt.

You can also find & read it here.

Ch. 2 below, Ch. 1, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5

Be Kind To Yourself (2) Numb

Something pressed against Wanda's back, arms and legs. It pricked at the back of her scalp. It stabbed through her hands as she pushed herself up with a groan. She looked down. Savannah grass. She looked up. Shades of blue, purple, and pink slowly bobbed and glowed in the night sky above. Where was she? Still in Wakanda? Or dead? It was quiet...too quiet. Her breaths, the only sounds she heard, were uncomfortably loud. Wanda looked around, but besides the thin acacia trees, she saw no one else, nothing else. Not even signs of the great battle she swore she thought had raged here.

Something rustled in the treetops, and her blood ran cold. Odd shapes huddled and perched on the branches. Even as they were shrouded in shadow, the stench of their scorched flesh made her shudder. Their eyes, white, wide, and unblinking, fixed on her like spotlights. Eleven people. Eleven Wakandans. A man pointed a skeletal finger at her.

"You," he groaned. "You murderer."

Wanda took several steps back. "No, I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry. I-"

"You will burn," a woman hissed. "Like the rest of us."

Wanda turned tail and bolted, but the dead were somehow faster, turning into panthers as they pounced on her. She fell hard onto the ground. Claws dug into her back. Savannah grass shot up like pins into her nose and eyes, then her mouth as she screamed. Her pleas and apologies went unheard, as they had many times before. She tried to hold back the wrathful cats with her hands, but they were limp and useless. The dead Wakandans snarled, pulling back lips to bare fangs, and tore into her flesh. Their bites burned; soon her whole body was set on fire and agony.

"Vis," she cried out.

But he wouldn't hear her. He wouldn't come to her rescue. He was gone. She had killed him, just as she had killed these Wakandans tearing her apart. They ripped into her belly in a frenzy, their teeth and claws sending lances of pain deep into her. Despair washed over her fear, and Wanda stopped struggling. Maybe that was the right thing to do. She deserved to be punished for her crime. The grass and trees were ablaze now. The fire climbed and roared so high that she no longer saw the sky. She must be dead after all, where the eleven Wakandans could finally exact their revenge. Where her mother, father, Pietro, and Vision were nowhere to be found. They were in a better place. She was in hell.

Her shredded stomach hurt the most. Wanda shut her eyes so tightly that she saw white stars, but the pain became too much and her eyes flew open. The inferno was gone. Instead she saw overhead lights and flickering holograms. To her right, Shuri stiffened in shock. Wanda's head throbbed, and most of all her stomach felt horrible. It twisted and lurched, made her jerk her head to one side and vomit.

Shuri acted quickly, recovering from her surprise and grabbed a basin to catch most of the mess. She leaned in close to tell Wanda something. The princess had to be speaking Wakandan. Wanda couldn't understand a word out of her mouth. Steve ran over to Shuri's side and he was next to talk, but all Wanda could understand was the concern on his face. His lips moved, but she couldn't understand him, either.

More people quickly crowded into her vision. Natasha, Thor, Bruce, Sam...Everyone spoke the same gibberish.

Panic made her heart race. She wanted to move. Why couldn't she? Some kind of stretched weight restrained her to the bed. She couldn't even feel or flex her fingers. What was going on?

Shuri gestured to a nurse, who injected something into Wanda's neck. It stung, and soon her world faded to black once more.

Wanda heard her name. Again, and again. Her eyes fluttered open. The faces of her friends and comrades hovered over her, sharpening the more she blinked. This time she heard them properly. Things made more sense now. She didn't know what to say in return.

"Miss Maximoff?" Shuri called.

"You Highness?" she rasped.

The princess blew a sigh of relief. "Thanks be to Bast, she understands."

"What happened?" Wanda mumbled.

Uncomfortable glances were passed around, and all were ultimately aimed at Shuri. She drew in a deep breath then explained, slowly and gently: "Thanos is defeated. What you did to make that possible was astounding. But your wounds...the wounds you've sustained are very serious. Both of your arms are broken with open fractures throughout. You also had a hemorrhagic stroke."

That left Wanda dumbfounded. "I...what?"

"The first time you woke up, I believe you had a period of aphasia. You could not understand what any of us were saying. You also vomited blood, if you remember. Well, vomit streaked with blood, to be exact. Not good, of course, but better than worse. It's likely from the nosebleed that collected in the back of your throat. If you were really vomiting blood, then we'd worry about a hole in your stomach, or something like that. We put you to sleep again so we could do more extensive operations on your arms and administer more clot busters to repair the damage to your brain." Shuri quickly scanned the floating chart of vitals and gave Wanda a smile. "The first round of medicine was successful, I think. Now that you're awake and you can hear me, I'd like to do an NIH scale."

"A what?"

"To check for neurological deficits. Relax, you don't have to do a thing." Shuri turned the bed into a recliner with a keystroke. Wanda had no choice but to lie still, since she was still restrained. "I apologize for binding your arms," the princess went on. "but it's for your own safety. They must stay still so the fractures can heal." She stepped away from the bedside to stand directly across from Wanda. "The questions I'll ask will seem strange, but just follow along, all right?"

"Okay." Wanda suddenly felt self-conscious, with so many people studying her intensely.

Shuri ordered the young Avenger to stick out her tongue, wiggle it side to side, raise her eyebrows as if she was surprised, scrunch them as if she was mad.

Shuri then stroked Wanda's face from temple to chin. "Can you feel me touching both sides?"

"My left…I can't feel my left cheek."

Worry crossed Shuri's face. "Smile as wide as you can."

Wanda tried to comply, but her smile came out crooked, the right corner of her lips pushing up her cheekbones while the other corner did not even twitch. Her heart raced as she started to panic again. "Your highness, what's wrong with me?"

"The scale results could be worse, but they're still somewhat high. You have left-sided deficit. That facial droop's the most telling sign."

"Is the damage permanent?" T'Challa asked his sister. "Is there anything we can do?"

"We'll give her more blood-thinners. Fortunately her aphasia went away, so there's hope that we can fix this, too." Wanda saw Shuri reach out to put a hand on her shoulder, but couldn't feel it. "We pumped in a lot of sedatives and painkillers. You must feel sick. Would you like something for nausea?"

Wanda remembered how badly her stomach had churned. "Yes, please."

Wakandan technology made it possible to have access to anything in short order, including some things as simple as pills and a cup of water. Shuri helped Wanda take the pills by mouth.

"Let them dissolve under your tongue. You'll feel better soon." Shuri stepped away from the bed. "Excuse me, there are other pressing matters I must see to."

"Vision," Wanda blurted out, but only to stop Shuri in her tracks and make her stay around for a bit longer. "I'm sorry...Vision...is he...? Did you...?" Her heart sank as Shuri bit on her bottom lip and couldn't meet her eyes.

"I was unable to complete the process," the princess replied. "I will work with what I have saved. But, Miss Maximoff...I can't guarantee..."

A lump grew in Wanda's throat and she fought to swallow it down. She felt foolish for clinging on to a shred of hope. All she could say was, "Thank you for trying."

Shuri left the room on that regretful note and the Avengers remained, but suddenly Wanda didn't want them around any more.

"I'd like to be alone," she whispered. "Please."

Steve opened his mouth to say something, and stepped forward as if to try comforting her, but met her wet eyes, thought twice and gently ushered the others out. T'Challa made the same gestures to his subjects. Once in complete solitude, Wanda let the tears fall. Grief and shame welled in her like a sickening wave, despite the pills she just took. She didn't want her friends to see how pathetic she looked when she couldn't even lift her hands to hide her tears or wipe them away.

Wanda watched from the window to her right how the sun set in Wakanda, how its warm light bathed the plains and made patterns dance on the glass, but its famous beauty was lost on her. Night would come soon and she felt sick and exhausted, but she feared going back to sleep again. The dead would come back to haunt her. She had been prickling with discomfort ever since she set foot in Wakanda, and Vision knew the reason better than anyone else. She couldn't shake off the guilt. What right did she have to be here, when the eleven Wakandans who died in Nigeria never made it home alive?

The dead frequented her dreams, twisted them into nightmares, made her wake up screaming. Vision always used to stay by her side, lying in bed with her though he didn't need the sleep. He would kiss at her tears and whisper comforting words into her ear. He couldn't chase away the nightmares, but at least he would be with her to fight them. Now she was left alone, half of her body numb and broken. She would gladly break her arms again if it meant getting Vision back. She hated Thanos, but what good did it do now to hate the dead?

Most of all, she hated herself.

[davidcarner]

Chuck and Sarah vs The Break Up Ch 12, Normal Couple

A/N: You know, I've kinda turned this one into some slapstick, tomfoolery, Charah lovefest and gotten away from the main story. I should probably not do that….why doesn't anyone believe me. True story when I got the idea for this chapter, my face…well, you know that gif of the Grinch smiling…I kinda did that….For those of you who enjoy that weird banter I've done in this fic where they aren't talking about each other, but they are, I added Ellie to it this time…Fair warning…Tears could hit you by the end…Sorry (no I'm not)…Sit back, relax, and welcome to the suburbs folks, it's Ch 12, Normal Couple

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, but Casey's line gave me the idea for the name of the chapter.

The suburbs, with his partner. He hated it. He didn't mind the spying, but to have to mingle like this when all he wanted to do was shoot someone, or sit back, have a glass of Johnny Walker Black, or even a hotpocket, it was absolute torture. At least he was grilling.

"Can you turn a little to your left, Casey?" Sarah asked through the ear wig.

"ACHOO!" Chuck sneezed. Sarah reached over and felt his head again, still a low-grade fever. "I'm so sawwy," Chuck moaned.

"Walker, do something with him," Casey said.

"Casey, I'm not doing something with him just because you told me to, plus I'd get snot all over me," Sarah replied, grinning cheekily.

"I need brain bleach," Chasey grunted.

"Do we even know if I can flash like this?" Chuck asked, trying to get back to the op and then his bed.

"Bartowski, if you get me killed because your brain is screwed up from that stupid cold, I'll kill you," Casey growled softly. He then gave a smile to one of his neighbors, and went back to grilling. At least he had his Beastmaster 3000 to grill on.

"John, you're scaring the neighbors," Alex whispered into his ear, getting close to him like the newlywed she was trying to play.

"She deserves an academy award," Chuck mumbled, his hand over the mike. Sarah covered hers and turned toward him.

"I don't think it's an act," she said, smiling as Chuck got a shocked look on his face. She reached over, cupped his cheek, sighed, and turned back. Only four more neighbors to get a picture of and hopefully Chuck would flash on one of them. This mission had gone south before it had even began. Chuck and Sarah were supposed to be the newlyweds in the house, but Chuck's illness had taken that option off of the table. Sarah looked down at the wedding and engagement ring that was on her finger. She played with it for a second, looked over at the matching wedding ring that Chuck wore, through her insistence, and concentrated on the mission. While Chuck was safer in the van with her, she knew they could pull off a married couple better, and part of her was upset she wasn't in there with Chuck. Not for the mission, but as a test run, which was stupid she knew, they were already living together. But in a house that was theirs, being married, and having the dog, which was back at the apartment and Sarah wasn't giving back when the mission was over. What kind of monster expected her to return that beautiful animal. Sarah thought she could run her own sub-mission at home, Operation Mrs. Bartowski. She smiled at the thought.

"Casey," Chuck muttered. "Can we hurry this up?" he whined. Sarah looked over at her poor husband, she smiled at the thought, looked down at the rings, and hit the mike.

"Cable guy, you sure about your current status?" Sarah asked.

"Single and ready to mingle, Valkyrie," Morgan said. "Apparently the similar heights didn't intrigue her." Sarah shot Chuck a look and he shrugged. Morgan was undercover as the cable guy and he walked outside, looking for Alex to talk to her about an "emergency." He turned slowly getting three of the last four people he needed on the camera. He looked around trying to find the fourth when he felt someone behind. He turned around and a beautiful woman was there.

"Hi," she said grinning, and taking a sip of her drink. "I don't think I've ever met a cable guy as cute as you." Morgan grinned. "Feel like laying some cable later?" She asked raising an eyebrow. Chuck and Sarah shared a shocked look, both of their eyebrows about shooting off of their face.

"I don't have a work order, or I'd be glad to," Morgan said smiling. The lady took a card, put her number on it, and put the card in his pocket.

"There," she said, patting his chest. "Give me a call, my husband will be out of town later this week, and I'll need to see about upgrading my service." Chuck nearly spit the drink out he took. Morgan turned, saw her husband, and gulped. He was huge man. "I'd rather he be there."

"Kinky," she said, grinning. "He's not into that," she said, and walked away slapping his backside.

"Did Morgan just get hit on by a cougar?" Chuck asked. Sarah turned to look at him. "We have to go save him."

"No, Mr. Bartowski, you need to sit there," she said. Chuck nodded.

"Whatever you say, Mrs. Walker," he replied. She gave him a look. "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing, Chuck, nothing," she said.

}o{

They had found a bug in the kitchen, ran fingerprints on it, and found out it belonged to the husband of the cougar. Morgan had called her, and he was supposed to go over to her house in a few days. In the meantime, Chuck and Sarah stayed at home for Chuck to recover. They were just a phone call away if needed. He came into the kitchen the next morning to see Sarah making breakfast. She was softly humming and looked at peace. Chuck noticed she still had on the wedding and engagement ring. She was feeding the dog bacon while she cooked. Chuck crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe thinking.

"See something you like Mr. Bartowski?" Sarah asked, giving him a smile. He nodded.

"Something smells good," he said. Sarah rubbed the dog's head.

"I gave Peaches a bath last night," Sarah said grinning. She walked over and felt his forehead. She reached up, tilted his head down, stood on her tiptoes, and gently placed her lips on his forehead. "Looks like it's gone." She dropped back down, took his hands and smiled at him.

"So does that mean we go in?" Chuck asked. Sarah shook her head.

"Nope, we stay here, Mr. Bartowksi," she replied, winking. She walked back over to the stove.

"So for the next few days, just me and you, no new missions unless something goes pear-shaped with Alex and Casey?" Chuck asked. Sarah nodded. "Sarah, if we're staying here, why is the dog with us?"

"You don't like Peaches?" she asked, grinning.

"I love the dog," he said. She bounced a shoulder. "Are we keeping him?" She grinned and smiled.

"Anything else?" she asked coyly. Chuck nodded.

Why are we wearing the rings?" Sarah looked at him, studying him for a long minute. Chuck stood there, not backing down.

"I can't tell you," she said, smiling at him and walking toward him very slowly. Chuck held his ground, but gulped.

"Why not?" he squeaked.

"Because, this stupid nerd I fell in love with wanted to go slow, and I don't want to scare him," Sarah said.

"Stupid nerd," Chuck said. "I mean he probably wants to spend the rest of his life with you, stupid nerd."

"Don't talk about my nerd that way," Sarah said, her eyes dangerous.

"Stupid, stupid nerd," Chuck said, a daring twinkle in his eye. She grabbed him, and pinned him against the wall, a look in her eye he never saw before. "He probably is scared he's going to scare you and doesn't have the guts to ask you what's in his head even though you've both said no secrets no lies."

"I told you, don't say those kind of things about my nerd," Sarah said softly. "Even if he is scared he's the best thing that ever happened to me. I just need to keep working on building up his confidence. Now, be nice, or else I'll have to punish you."

"Stupid, stupid, stupid nerd," he said, scared to death. Sarah shook her head. "He probably dreams about you all the time, being in his life, taking care of him when he's sick, taking care of you while you're sick."

"You're going to pay for that Mr. Bartowski," Sarah said. "You're gonna pay by making me breakfast on mornings I don't want to get out of bed, by taking care of me when I'm so sick I don't even want anyone to see me. You're gonna pay by being with me until my dying day."

"Who's going to make me pay for it?" Chuck asked. She gave him a long look. Chuck smirked, and she narrowed her eyes. He ran his fingers over her left hand, and one circled the rings. "Seems like someone likes playing that she's Mrs. Bartowski." The look on Sarah's face changed. Chuck thought he might die…happily…but die.

}o{

"GENERAL!" Sarah screamed.

"Calm down, Walker, what is it?" she asked.

"He's got a Fulcrum Intersect in his head!" Sarah yelled.

"He's got a what?!" Beckman said. Sarah took a deep breath and told her the quick version of the story. How Morgan got into the home, was seduced, found the computer, put on glasses to transmit to Chuck and he downloaded it, causing Chuck to pass out. "What does Ellie say?" Beckman asked.

"She doesn't know anything yet, General," Sarah replied. "He looked the same way he does whenever he gets an upgrade. His eyes jerking everywhere," she said, near tears.

"Sarah," Beckman said softly. She saw the rings on her fingers and looked up at her. "Sarah, we'll get him the best help."

"Blow it up," Sarah growled. Beckman nodded.

"That's one thing you can be damn sure of!" she said. "I'll talk to you soon, Sarah," Beckman said.

"Never heard the General call you by your first name, Sarah," Devon said walking in. She turned, and he saw the tears running down her face. He opened his arms and she launched herself into him. "Not awesome."

}o{

"Did we get them?" Beckman asked.

"Yes, General, I turned it on them, and it killed most of them, the ones that survived aren't in good shape," Casey said. "We have the intel and Ellie is examining it, seeing if it can go into Chuck without harming him." Beckman nodded.

"What about Sarah?" she asked softly. Casey took a breath.

"She's with Bartowski," Casey answered. "He hasn't woken up yet, although Ellie thinks it will be soon. It looks like whatever is in that Fulcrum upload didn't play nice with the updates Ellie had done." Beckman nodded.

"Keep me updated," she said as she cut the feed. Casey walked into the infirmary. Morgan walked up to him.

"This is bad," Morgan said.

"I thought he was about to wake up," Casey said, getting worried. Morgan gave him a look and shook his head.

"Oh, he is, it's just…you'll just have to hear it for yourself," he said, and walked away. Casey walked over to where Chuck was. Sarah was holding his hand. He noticed that Sarah and Chuck both had on wedding rings. She kept running her fingers back and forth over them. He moved closer until he could hear her.

"…and it's got a red door, and a white picket fence," she said softly. "I know it sounds cheesy, but that's what I want Chuck. Inside I want something, a piece of painted art, or a sign or something that says something about the Bartowski household. You can ever have one that says established the year we're married. I really want it to be this year, Chuck." Casey walked away. She was gone, and he wasn't about to stop those two. They deserved to be happy, and he'd make sure they were.

}o{

Morgan brought Sarah a cup of hot chocolate. She gave him a sad smile, and he gave her a one-arm side hug.

"He's gonna be okay, you know," Morgan said. "It's Chuck, he doesn't leave, he never leaves." He was quiet for a second and then added softly, "Except me."

"Morgan, I'm his girlfriend, not his best friend," Sarah said giving him a look.

"He's always been there for me," Morgan said.

"Are you okay?" Sarah asked.

"I miss Anna," he said. "I want her back."

"Do you think there's a shot?" Sarah asked.

"She said it would be a cold day in hell before she ever dated me, kissed me, or even let me look at her again," Morgan said. "So yeah."

"Uh, Morgan, I don't think that's how it works," Sarah said.

"I hear she's seeing some dude, I need to go check him out, make sure he's at least good enough for her," Morgan said. Casey walked in, and Sarah gave him a head jerk to get over there.

"You'll need back up," she said, grinning. Casey rolled his eyes.

"Casey, I never stopped caring about her," Morgan said. Casey stared at him.

"You haven't been faithful," Casey said.

"She told me she never wanted to see me again," Morgan said.

"And you think this is a good idea?" Casey said.

"She wouldn't see me," Morgan said. Casey started to say something, but stopped. He looked at Sarah.

"Maybe it would get his mind off of things," she said, glancing at Chuck.

"Maybe you should go then," he said. Sarah started at him. He grunted.

"Come on, Grimes, I'll get the camera," he said leading Morgan away. Morgan followed, happily.

Sarah walked over to Chuck and took his hand. She started to nod off. She had been up for almost 48 hours now over the whole incident, and it was wearing on her. She got in the bed beside him and snuggled up against him. She knew she was falling asleep when she felt Chuck's finger slide over her wedding and engagement ring. They weren't real, and that brought back the tears.

"Why ya crying, Angel?" his voice asked softly.

"Because the rings aren't real," she replied, smiling at the good dream.

"Feel real to me," he replied. She grinned. Her nerd.

"They are real, but you didn't ask me to marry you or put this wedding ring on my finger," she replied.

"Is that what you want?" the tired voice asked her. She snuggled closer and felt his hot breath on her ear. "Do you really want to be Mrs. Bartowski? Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me? Do you want to grow old with me, Sarah? Sarah, do you want to marry me?"

"Chuck, you know I do," she said smiling as she felt herself slipping to sleep…wait…if she was only slipping to sleep now…her eyes shot open, and looking back at her were two huge brown eyes, that were dancing. She took a deep breath and said the words that were in her heart. "No takebacks!"

"No takebacks?" Chuck asked. "What are you, twelve?" She gave him a sultry look and he swallowed. "I withdraw the question. You are obviously not twelve."

}o{

Ellie and Sarah watched him sleep. Sarah was very quiet, thinking. She kept staring at the rings.

"Wanna share?" Ellie asked, looking at Sarah.

"Just thinking how it would be easier cover-wise if we were married," Sarah said softly. "Just thinking how if God forbid something happened and I had to take him to an actual hospital it could be a little difficult with all the regulations in health care." Ellie watched her. She heard the words, but they were a cover. Sarah Walker was scared to death, and all Ellie could do was smile.

"You know what would really sell the cover?" Ellie asked. Sarah looked at her. "Kids." Sarah got the faintest smile on her face.

"That would be a serious cover," Sarah admitted. "How many do you think would be necessary?"

"Oh, at least two, but no more than four," Ellie said. Sarah nodded. "That's a big commitment."

"Huge," Sarah said, nodding, tears in her eyes.

"Think he has any clue of all the sacrifices you make for him?" she asked.

"I don't think it's that big of a sacrifice on my part," Sarah said, the grin growing.

"You could order him you know, it's your mission," Ellie said. Sarah studied Ellie for a second, took a deep breath, and told what was in her heart.

"Ellie, I could never order him to do that," Sarah said. "In fact, I don't think I'm that kind of agent anymore."

"What kind of agent is that?" Ellie asked.

"The kind of agent that will do anything for a mission," she said tears in her eyes. Ellie placed her hands on the outside of Sarah's shoulders, looking her in the eye.

"Then be that kind of woman, that would do anything for the man she loves," Ellie said.

"It has to be real," she said softly. "It's not fair to him if it's not."

"Or to you," Ellie said softly.

"I love him," Sarah said, tears streaming down her face.

"He's a lucky guy to have you protecting him," Ellie said, hugging the woman she thought of as her sister.

"What he doesn't realize is he's saved me more than I saved him," Sarah said, hanging onto Ellie for dear life.

"Do you two always do this?" Ellie asked. Sarah pulled back and gave her a look. "You know talk in these weird ways without ever saying to each other what you really mean?" Sarah looked a bit sheepish. "No wonder your communication sucks."

"I'm working on it," Sarah said. "He's working on it, but this back and forth, well, it's fun." The countdown came on, and Sarah turned to leave.

"The official report is he should make a full recovery," Ellie said.

"Unofficially?" Sarah asked, concerned. Ellie smiled.

"I'm making an upload of the data retrieved that he can upload and not hurt him," she said. Sarah hugged her again.

"You're the second best Bartowski I know," Sarah said. Ellie playfully shoved her.

"Go, we'll find some magazines later to get ready for your cover wedding," Ellie said, beaming. Sarah walked into the conference room, and Beckman came on the screen.

"How is he, Sarah?" Beckman asked, genuinely concerned.

"He's going to be fine, Diane, thanks for asking," she said. Beckman smiled, and nodded. Sarah looked down at the rings on her finger, took a deep breath, looked up at Beckman and started to speak, when she saw the smirk on Beckman's face.

"I don't think those rings, suit you, Sarah," Beckman said. Sarah looked momentarily hurt, but schooled her features. "You two should probably find some that are more your style." Sarah replayed that in her head and could only come up with one conclusion.

"Ellie and I were talking just a minute ago how that would strengthen the cover, you know, for medical purposes, paperwork, that kind of thing," Sarah said.

"Of course," Beckman answered with a straight face.

"Ellie also suggested kids," Sarah said, swallowing.

"Adopted or both of yours?" Beckman asked, the grin growing.

"I mean either would work, but if they were ours, it would really solidify it," Sarah replied, her leg trying to bounce but her steeling it.

"That is an excellent point and a true level of commitment," Beckman said.

"He's my last mission," Sarah said softly.

"It's about time you figured it out," Beckman said, leaning forward. "Agent Walker, you are in charge, whatever you two think goes."

"Thank you, Diane," Sarah said.

"Sarah, this has been my pleasure," Beckman said, signing off. Sarah smiled and hummed softly. This was going to be fun.

A/N: I know some of you just love this story and I apologize for not updating it as frequently as others, but figuring out how to rewrite these takes some doing some days…Again, any suggestions, I'll gladly listen to…Til next time!

DC

[pietro-capimagines]

Battered and Bruised Ch. 4 (Bucky x reader)

Good afternoon lovely readers! I hope you enjoyed yesterday’s new chapter. It’s about to get super angsty up in here now. I hope you all have a wonderful day and I love you all.  

Description:  Bucky sees all the damage he’s physically done to you because of what H.Y.D.R.A. did to his mind.

Warnings: Angst, hospitalization, mentions of death, seizures

Chapters 1 2 3 

Masterlist

The sound of you and the chair toppling over echoed in your mind. Your shaky and uneven breaths were fading. Your restraints were making angry redlined into your wrist, the skin beginning break. The Winter Soldier was kicking you in your gut as you laid on the ground, helpless. 

He was grunted and yelled every time his foot made contact with your limp body. And then suddenly, there was no more pain. A floating sensation began to ripple through you.

From the shadows behind the super soldier, emerged your mother.

“Mom?” You breathed out as she knelt down beside you, beginning to stroke your hair. “But, you’re dead…” It was true. Your mom had passed away when you were ten years old in a car accident. 

“My sweet F/N, it’s not your time.” She smiled as she kissed you on the cheek. Her touch left your skin tingling, and a tear rolled down your cheek. “You have to fight, baby.” A beautiful smile graced her face. She began to stand and walked backwards, receding into the darkness.

“Fight… I have to… fight…” Your words were slurred and drawled out as your eyes were lolling around, trying to focus. 

A loud bang erupted through the interrogation room. The door burst open and a black arrow flew across the room, hitting the Russian agent in the chest, electrocuting him. His body was convulsing on the floor next to you as the electric shocks pulsed through him. 

“F/N? Stay with me!” Clint shouted at you, cutting your restraints. His words were echoing through your brain as you tried to stay awake. He tried to carry you as gently as possible to not make your injuries worse. You became unconscious as your body began to shut down. Clint held you to his chest as he jogged through the many halls, making his way back to the quinjet. 

“Bucky! Look at me. It’s Steve.” His eyes were bewildered and filled with hurt. He didn’t blame Bucky, but he couldn’t believe the state you were in as he saw you being carried out. 

“I don’t know who that is!” The Winter Soldier growled, making a run to tackle Steve.

“I don’t want to do this. Don’t make me, Bucky. Please. For F/N.”  But, he wasn’t stopping. Before he could do any more damage, Steve hit him in the temple with the edge of his shield, knocking him out cold. He stood there, looking at his best friend sprawled out on the cold concrete unconscious. 

“We have to get back to the jet, now. We don’t have much time. And F/N is critical. Clint says she’s fading away fast.” Natasha huffed out, a trickle of blood streaming down the side of her face. 

A red energy enveloped Bucky, picking him up and moving him out of the door. Wanda was holding him up, trying to move as fast as she could without hurtling him through a wall. 

“Come on, F/N needs us.” Steve regained his composure and they ran out of that little room. A room you would never forget. A room where you witnessed the love of your life being ripped away from you.  

“Bucky, get off!” You were sprawled out on the bed with a shirtless super soldier putting all his weight on your body. 

“Not until you give me a kiss!” He nestled into the crook of your neck placing kisses along you jaw and collarbone. A big grin began making its way across his face and you could feel his scruff against your skin. You were giggling and placed a sweet kiss on his lips. You began to pull away, but he wouldn’t let you, deepening the kiss. You smiled against his warm lips as his hands began to explore your body. You managed to roll over so that you were straddling him. You cupped his face kissing him tenderly, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as you lightly bit his earlobe. That night was the first time you had made love with him. 

Bucky woke up a day later, that memory bringing him back to consciousness. Steve was sitting in a chair next to him, reading the newspaper. He groaned, trying to shift himself into a sitting position on the bed, when a pain spiked in his brain.

“Bucky, you’re awake.” Steve had a small smile, but worry and concern was etched on his face. He placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving it a light pat. “Lay back down, pal. You took a really hard hit to the head.” 

He complied and stopped moving around. A sudden sinking feeling hit Bucky. He suddenly felt nauseous at the realization that you weren’t there. 

“Steve. Wh- where’s F/N?” 

He didn’t reply. He pursed his lips, not knowing what to tell him. “Bucky, uhm..” The right words weren’t forming in his head.

“Steve. Tell me right now.” Tears were welling up in his eyes, and his lip began to quiver. 

“She’s in the hospital ward… She just got out of surgery.” Steve could see the hurt in his oldest friend’s eyes. It broke his heart to see Bucky like that. 

“Oh god, what have I done?” He threw the sheets away from him and ran to your location despite the unbearable pain in his head. Steve tried to stop him. He knew the site of you would be too much for him. 

When he reached the hospital ward, he saw you in a bed with many dark bruises and fresh stitches. You had a black and swollen eye, along with a broken nose. Bucky fell to his knees at the door, sobbing. 

“I’m so sorry, F/N. I’m so sorry.” He choked out sobs and yells. He felt a hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles on it, trying to calm him down. 

“She would want you to stay with her, be strong for her. Come on, Buck.” He looked up, it was his best friend. Steve helped him up and sat him down in a chair beside you. Bucky gently held your hand, kissing it, and put it on his cheek as tears streamed down his face. Steve left without another word, leaving him and you alone. 

Bucky spoke softly, telling you how sorry he was and how much he loved you. He begged for your forgiveness and hoped that you would still love him. You were his everything. 

He took your medical chart from the end of the bed, flipping through the pages. He found out that you experienced not on the many bruises, cuts, a black eye, and a broken nose, but that you also had broken ribs, internal bleeding, a dislocated shoulder, and that part of your lung collapsed. He couldn’t bear that the fact that he did this to you. He tried to fight it, but at the end of it all, it didn’t work. 

“I’m a monster. I’m a fucking monster.” He sobbed, putting his head against the bed. 

You woke up to the sound of crying. You couldn’t open your eyes, they were too swollen. But you recognized the voice. It was Bucky. 

You moved your right hand and it came in contact with his head. You lifted it and began to stroke his hair. 

“F/N?” He lifted his head, his eyes puffy and red from the tears. You gave him a small smile and found his cheek. You stroked it and he placed his hand over yours. “I thought I lost you.” Tears were brimming on his eyes again. 

You tried your best to speak, but it came out as a little whisper. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” The words still slightly burned in your throat, and the pain in your ribs wasn’t as bad as it was before. 

He let out a sad chuckle and got up to kiss your busted lip. The sensation felt so good against yours, you missed the way he felt and tasted. 

He pulled away. “I did this to you. How are you not upset?” His eyebrows were stitched together and his eyes were wide and shifting along your face, looking for an answer. 

“That wasn’t you Buck. It wasn’t you in there. How could I blame you when I know you tried to fight it? I love you James Buchanan Barnes. I always have and always will.” The words came out a little easier now. You wanted to look at him, to study his features, but you couldn’t open your eyes.

He gave you a soft smile, a tear running down his cheek. You felt it and wiped it away.

“Don’t cry bab-” Your hand dropped away from his face. Your body began to shake, violent convulsions making its way through your body. 

“Nurse! Somebody- she’s- she’s having a seizure!” Bucky’s voiced echoed throughout the building and the medical team ran in, along with the team. He feared for the worst. He screamed out your name, tears rolling down his cheek. The once steady sound of the heart monitor began to send a long monotone note that echoed in the room, imprinting itself into his memory. Forever.

OKAY BEFORE ANYBODY STARTS FREAKING OUT, IMMA LET YOU KNOW RN THAT ITS NOT OVER YET. DONT WORRY. 

It actually didn’t end up really long, but I hope it did some justice. I hope this cliff hanger leaves you on the edge of your seat till tomorrow ;) leave me some feedback on what you think. Have a beautiful day, I love you all! 

Taglist:

@mcfuccfairy @floofypillow @ficarchive007 @kaitlynthehuman @pinkleopardss

@sergeantsandscoundrels @theforeverunitedfandoms @animexchocolate

@blueskies-love @dxnaii-rxse

If you want to be tagged in chapter five and the rest of the series, let me know!

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[swooncraft]

Write Weds - Cordate Pt 1

Cordate Of Royal We

A Novel of Everyday Combat

By Juliet Riddle

[Ch. 01]

The smell of wet concrete was everywhere. Something about it brought up memories of a hot spring. Of a beach. Of Vizy and Ani. They were more than images. Feelings, smells and sounds were coupled with the memories triggered by the scent. It was oppressing. It was depressing. But I was remembering. That was a feat in itself. A simple thing that brought a weak smile to my lips. My eyes opened and I recalled instantly what struck me down. The streaking shine of the crowbar before impacting my head made me twitch.

Half of my face was covered in a crusted coagulated crimson, making a sick sucking sound as I lifted off the street floor. The instant throbbing in my skull made me want to lay back down. I fought it and looked to my objective. There was a note on the door.

Before standing I waited to regain some of my senses while wiping my face off with my handkerchief. The dawn was perfect, the sun was still low enough that there wasn't too much light to sear the back of my eyes, and not too early where I couldn't see. The lone lamp in the lot fought against the dawn to provide more light, but it was loosing. Similar to my small weak attempts to make a difference for my team against all of the best players. There was something more I had to be able to do.

The elite call it the Game. The insane call it War. The regulars call it Sand. It was an idea shared by wealthy and powerful people. In secret they collaborated, and piece by piece took over a metropolis as the foundation of the entertainment they were seeking. Implementing a structure that resembled several video games was the next step. The Investors placed the Scorekeepers in and rounded up the first teams a few years ago. Since it's first match, Sand has grown to have over 100 players each in teams of seven. Half were integrated into the justice system, as vigilantes. The other half of us are burglars.

Lawless, uncoordinated criminals. The evidence was on the door I was trying to break into a few hours earlier. On the note was scrawled: “Thx for the ez win again! -9” That's right. 9 was the one who attacked me. The Nippon had more skill than me, enough that she didn't bother drawing her wooden sword. Instead, she disarmed me and knocked me out with my own weapon.

A bitter taste filled my pallet. Which I responded to by ripping the paper from the door. That instant the damn thing fell from it's hinges making me flinch as it crashed inward. I crumpled up the note and threw it at the entryway for good measure.

It was time to get back home. I checked the pocket my phone should have been it. It was missing, meaning I couldn't immediately contact my team or look at the outcome of the match. I couldn't remember anything about the match. I rationalized that it must have been a three objective pickup. The unfortunate thing about my team, Royal We, was our handicap. There was four of us left. I had obviously gone solo to one of the objectives. What else could have happened was beyond me.

My Tag is Cordate. My dead ex, Visitor, gave it to me, because it means heart shaped, and as he said, it fits me because of my ass. That was him in a nutshell, a pig and an asshole. But he was damn good at what he did in this lifestyle before he was Banned. His Ban was one link in the chain of events that crippled Royal We down from a full top tier team to the four of us that were left.

When I had first joined several months prior I was still learning how to defend myself. How to be useful on the field. My ability didn't come quick enough and I suffered a concussion that put me in the hospital for a week. Something in Vizy and our best strategist, Anemone, broke. They retaliated, and Ani went too far, breaking the only real rule Sand has. My attacker died by her hands. Ani's Ban, sent Vizy over the edge, he pulled strings, called in favors and convinced several burglar teams to raid a facility. The Scorekeeper building showed a few dozen players secrets that no one was prepared for.

The raid barely made it into the first floor before teams turned on Royal We for misleading them. Moments later, the Scorekeepers agents, known as Peers, retrained the players. And Banned the leader.

With Vizy and Ani out, that left us with five. It wasn't long after I left the hospital that our tech guy, Crunch, was sent in from a coma. With a third of the players holding a grudge against us it was no surprise.

Since then, we've been hanging on. I'm not sure how, but similar to the luck of me finding my discarded crowbar in an alley a few blocks away, Royal We still had some strange luck left. Unfortunately the steel was bent.

The rest of the walk home included me trying to bend my crowbar back and a few stops as my head spun. I had no doubt that 9's attack damaged me again, I just hoped it wasn't as bad as the first concussion.

The sun had fully risen by the time I meandered back to Royal We's headquarters. When burglar teams are formed their first mission is to claim somewhere to live. I've been told there are different teirs the team can choose from that give you different living spaces. Before I joined, Visitor, Ani, and our hulk of a Russian, Elbo, shot for the gold. Their work put Royal We on the map from day one. The manor was a sight for sore eyes. In it I knew there were painkillers and soft things to lay my head on. My disappointed team would be inside as well.

Thankfully as I opened the one double door Elbo was the only one around to greet me.

“Quarda! I thought you had gone to hospital again! Good to see you back!” Elbo is 250 pounds of pure muscle accented with milky blue eyes and a dishwater buzz-cut. He's a head taller than me, and the friendliest team member left.

Some slur of a grin and grimace crossed my face as I pointed to the side of my head. My fading purple hair was cow-licked by the dried bronze that spilled on the asphalt.

I must have looked as bad as I felt because Russian words spat out of his mouth before asking, “Do you need doctor?”

Before I could tell Elbo 'no' Regency paused in a door frame to the foyer. Before words came out of his mouth my headache doubled. His British snobbishness is a force all it's own, “Tourn was ready to pull the plug if we found you in the ER, Cord.” Regency's hazel-green eyes meet the top of my head. His birdlike features are perfectly accompanied with a medium feathered hairstyle. He's a regal stubborn person who among our team has his eyes on the points closer than any of the rest of us.

I waved off Regency's words, “Where's th' fall'n doc?” My words were a mush of croaking syllables.

Elbo began to suggest a location before Tourniquet entered the foyer. Just the thought or smell of me had him ranting already, “-like this just can't happen anymore! How can we progress if this shit keeps happening? I swear to God-oh. Amazing, Cord. Look at your fucking head!” He tossed a hand out to reinforce his agitation. Tourniquet is Elbo's height; lean with enough tone to make a difference in fights. His verdant eyes glared as he ran a hand through his mess of straw colored hair, “So, who beat the damn points out of you? All of our hard fucking work down the drain-”

While Tourn blew his whistle I showed my bent crowbar to Elbo. Without a word, he took it and bent it back to almost straight. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. I smiled looking it over. The steel felt personalized to me, the small crook gave it a different feel. Then Tourn's words reached my scrambled brains, “Wai'. We won the roun'?” The words out of my mouth felt so heavy I almost couldn’t pronounce them.

“Fuck yes we did. And by the skin of our fucking teeth,” Tourniquet was so eloquent.

Elbo crossed his arms and nodded, “Quarda asked Elbo to give his all. So. Is just what I did.”

Regency just scoffed and wandered off to do something with crumpets or whatever it is British people do in the morning.

“Good,” I paused, “Wuh.. Any Oxy? Beyon' throbbin' I.. Uh..” I'd been lucid on my way home, but with all the dizzy spells I felt like I was fighting to keep away from the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Yeah, yes... Come to the damned study,” Tourn grumbled as he paced off.

“Is good you are back, Quarda. Viz would be happy. So I am also.”

“Thax big'uy,” I smiled.

I watched Elbo strut off toward the den that was converted into our fitness center.

The manor is a beautiful place. All earth tiles covered with red carpets. Sepia adornments frame the parchment colored walls and banisters. Upkeep of this place costs a lot, but even at the bottom of the ranks, Royal We was thriving. Sand is generous to it's players at the bottom line.

The Study had been converted into an amalgamation of a resting therapy room and an operating room. Generally it's where Tourn and Regency play cards or have heated debates. Other times it's where Elbo and I get patched up.

“Fuck's sake, it took you long enough,” Tourn replied to the Study door's low cry.

My tongue wouldn't lift to even grunt. So I slumped onto the plush leather sofa. Ensured I was comfortable while Tourn could still look at the lump on my head, I closed my eyes.

“I wish you would use the bed we had installed. You're the reason that beautiful couch is stained.”

I wished there was an off switch to his mouth. But he shoved a cup and a pill into my hands, so I should have been a little grateful.

“Even Elbo uses the damn bed. If a neanderthal can respect Italian leather I can't imagine why you can't.”

His ranting moved away and circled back as I took the pill. I couldn't remember the last time water had been so wonderful. My stomach reacted by informing me I was famished, something I didn't notice over my splitting headache. It would have to wait. Fatigue had made sleep top the to do list.

I drifted off, vaguely remembering Tourn cleaning my skull, mumbling remarks about brain damage and 9 while shining a goddamn flashlight in my eyes.