#I improv the glove ok leave me alone

[timethehobo]

A little treat for the Emmrich romancers?

[street-smarts00]

Eavesdropping

Midoriya x f!reader

Summary: Y/n had just realized that she has a crush on her best friend, Izuku Midoriya. She confides in Mina while they were walking to class. However, someone just so happens to overhear their conversation.

Word count: 1.9k

Fluff with ⚠️language

This is my first time writing, enjoy!

“I still can’t believe it took you that long to realize it,” Mina joked.

Mina had once again brought up this embarrassing topic. God forbid you mention anything about crushes, it’s all she wants to talk about. But then again you are a bit of a gossip too, you just didn’t like when the topic of conversation was yourself.

“I've been single for the past 16 years, you really expect me to know how my feelings work,” you mumbled while the two of you walked to heroics.

It was exhausting talking about your new found feelings for one of your best friends, Izuku Midoriya. The two of you have known each other for over a year now and had just started second year; and only a few days ago did you realize that you had fallen head over heels for the guy.

“So when are you gonna tell him?” Mina smirked. “What? Mina I can’t tell him that I like him it will ruin our friendship” you replied as your cheeks turned pink.

“Why do you think it’s gonna ruin your friendship?”

You sighed, “Because it’s gonna make everything awkward. I won’t know how to act around him once he knows and it’s not like he likes me back.”

Your friendship with Midoriya was more important than some silly crush. He was always there for you, giving you tips on how to improve your quirk or fighting style, helping you study, and whenever you were in a shitty mood he always knew what to do to lift your spirits.

“Oh please that’s a load of bull shit”

“MINA!” You exclaimed.

“What? You really think he doesn’t like you? You guys are super cuddly and touchy and you two always have to be touching whether your holding hands or your arms are linked.” Mina explained.

You shook your head, “No Mina that doesn’t mean he likes me, he’s just a touchy person,”

She smirked, “oh really, well I’m friends with him and he isn’t cuddly with me. Or even some of his other best friends, like Iida or Ochako, has he ever cuddled with them during movie night?”

You opened your mouth to respond but no words came out. She was right. You thought that he was just a touchy person. You had never noticed that the only person he was physically affectionate with,was you. The constant hand holding, and arms linked or draped across the others shoulders, the cuddling on the couch during movie night. It was only you, no one else.

“And, it’s not just the physical affection, he also goes out of his way to help you, like all the time. More so then the rest of the class. And remember when you sprained your ankle during training a few weeks ago, he freaked out and offered to carry you to recovery girls office, and when you did get there he refused to leave until you were all patched up”

You were speechless. You thought all of that stuff was just his normal helpful personality. He’s always trying to help others. Did he really give you more attention?

“Holy shit,” you whispered. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. It felt like you were frozen in place even though we’re you still walking to heroics.

“Awww now you have to tell him! Come on it will be so cute. You’ll confess your feelings, you’ll start dating and then you’ll be in love, and then soon I’m gonna have to start calling you y/n Midoriya.” Mina giggled.

“Mina!” You hissed, and she replied giggling.

In the middle of your rage, you didn’t notice Shinsou pass by the both of you.

“Hey Shinsou!” Mina said cheered. You looked up and mumbled “hey.” He glanced over looking exhausted as always and replied “Hey guys.”

He walked passed the two of you and always out of your line of sight. However, right afterwards you heard him say “Hey Midoriya”

Wait what?

Did he just say? Nope he didn’t, he did not just say Midoriya. He did not just say the name of the boy you and Mina had an ENTIRE conversation about.

It felt like the world was spinning. Your hands became sweaty and you almost dropped the case with your hero outfit.

You glanced towards Mina and she had the same expression as you, eyes wide, jaw dropped and face pale. The two of you turned our heads and unfortunately there he was. Your best friend, green messy hair, worn out old red shoes, and an almost identical facial expression as you. Except instead of all the color draining from his face, it turned bright red.

He awkwardly smiled and waved his trembling hand. You reverted your head and stared at the floor; you couldn’t look anyone in the eyes.

How long was he behind you? How much did he hear? You didn’t want to ask, you were too mortified to find out.

In your grief you didn’t realize that you had reached the girls locker room. You and Mina quickly ran inside and you sighed the tiniest bit of relief now that Midoriya was gone.

——————————————————————

Heroics class was starting and you had barely spoken to anyone since the incident. Your mind hadn’t stopped racing. You played over what happened on the way here over and over again, trying to figure out how much he might have heard.

The only way you were safe from dying of embarrassment was if he only heard that last bit of the conversation where Mina had replaced your last name for his. If anything you could just play that off as Mina joking around or something.

You couldn’t gain the courage to go over and ask him cause there was a pretty high chance he heard EVERYTHING. He however, did have the courage to go over to you. You noticed him walking towards you and your insides felt like they are about to explode.

“Hey y/n” he said as he played with one of the gloves of his costume. You were surprised he wasn’t the same shade as a tomato right now. You on the other hand, we’re the shade of a tomato.

“H-hi Midoriya” you studdered.

He continued to fidget with his glove, “So about what happened earlier”

NO! No no no no! You were not ready for this. You did not want to talk about this right now.

“About what you said to Ashido, I . . “

“How much did you hear?” You had to know, it was eating you alive.

“Um well, a lot of it”

SHIT! Red alert! He knows, I repeat, he knows you like him.

“Oh yea right” you awkwardly giggled. “That was um, just uh. . . “

“All right class, let’s get started” All might interrupted.

“Today we will be working on close combat. You will all be in groups of two and we will take turns one at a time, so your classmates can observe and critique your work.”

——————————————————————

Thankfully Heroics went by smoothly after your little, but very awkward, conversation with Izuku.

You didn’t speak to him the next day at school either. You didn’t know what to say and you were terrified of what he would say about what he heard. Others had noticed too, it was odd that you two weren’t holding hands or had your arms linked let alone not looked at each other.

Once you headed back to the dorms you spent the entire afternoon in your room just like the day before. Midoriya even tried to talk to you. He knocked on the door and asked if he could come in but you said you were in the middle of an assignment. Which was a lie and he knew it because you had finished all your work during free period. You were just too scared to even look at him let alone talk to him.

You didn’t leave your room until Sero came and practically dragged you downstairs for movie night.

You heard a knock on your door and prayed it wasn’t Izuku. “Hey y/n, it’s Sero”

You sighed and got up from your bed to open the door, “Hey.” He saw your tired eyes, “are you ok?”

You realized he saw right through you and replied “yea I’m good just kinda freaked out about something,” His face fell and filled with worry, “do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really, its kinda personal and embarrassing, you replied.

Sero knew not to push you. You tended to have a hard time opening up and if he kept asking you would end up never telling him, or anyone at all. “Oh ok, but if you ever wanna talk I’m all ears,” he sympathized. “Wait, I almost forgot the whole reason I came up here. We’re gonna start the movie soon.”

Crap. You completely forgot it was Friday, and Friday was movie night. Where everyone sits in the common room and watches a movie. The movie night where you cuddled with your best friend on the couch every week. The best friend that you have a crush on. The same best friend that now knows that you like him, and might like you back but you're still not sure because there is no proof.

“Ummm ya know I don’t think I can make it to movie night I have a lot of work to do” you lied.

“But didn’t you finish all your work during your free period? Remember you put your feet on the desk when you were done and Iida scolded you for descracing school property.” He replied.

Damn, he was there for that?

“Oh Yea, so I guess I am free,” you said with a fake cheery attitude as you fumbled with your bracelets. You grabbed your phone, turned off the lights and followed Sero down to the common room.

Once you two reached the living room you noticed that everyone was seated ready to play the film. There were two empty spaces to sit. One of them was right between Midoryia and Jiro. You couldn’t sit next to him and cuddle for the next two hours without your brain exploding. You tried to go to the other vacant seat but sadly, Sero beat you to it.

You had no other choice. You slowly made your way to the couch and plopped down in the empty spot as the movie started. You crisscrossed your legs and played with your bracelets again. Midoryia took note of this, he knew you always played with your jewelry when you were scared or anxious. He leaned to your ear and whispered “Hey, are you ok?”

You didn’t look him in the eye. “Yea I’m good”

You hated lying to him but you couldn’t gain the courage to talk to him.

He leaned over to whisper in your ear again. “By the way, Mina was right. I do like you back.”

This was now the second time today that you felt your heart stop. You turned your head to face him. You were inches apart. “Promise?” You asked.

“I Promise.”

You both smiled as your cheeks turned pink. You leaned into him and wrapped your arms around his waist as he put his arm around you and pulled your closer.

He kissed the top of your head, “I missed this.” It may sound cheesy, but your insides felt like they were filled with butterflies.

“I missed this too”

Over on the other side of the couch a smug looking Mina whispered to Jiro, “I knew it.”

[thebonerpit]

cheerleader [FIC]

cheerleader

Rom Howney, 3896 words, [E], read on Ao3 here

A very seasonally appropriate fic in which Robert throws a Halloween party. Tom hates Halloween but decides to wear a costume he's wanted to try for years.

“I just don’t understand it.”

Tom frowns as he stares at the racks upon racks of zombies, clowns, vampires, and sexy nurses in front of him.

“I mean, to be fair, you don’t understand much of anything, do you mate?”

“Fuck off,” Tom says, whacking Harrison on the arm. “But seriously! Why do Americans go so absolutely mental for this stupid holiday?”

“Again, having trouble with the fact that you, an actor, who plays dress-up FOR A LIVING, doesn’t understand this. It’s not like this is any weirder than a fancy dress party. Plus, you get candy!”

Ok, he does have a point there.

Tom lets out a deep sigh. He wouldn’t even be bothering with all this if it weren’t for Robert. An invitation appeared in his inbox last week for a Halloween party, and when you’re invited to a Halloween party at Robert Downey Jr.’s house, you don’t turn it down. Even if Halloween is incredibly stupid. He shuffles along through the rows of costumes, rolling his eyes at werewolf masks and inflatable dinosaurs.

“This is ridiculous,” he mutters. Harrison groans, his hands already full of the various parts of a Mad Hatter costume.

“Just pick something, who cares?!”

“There’s too many options!”

“Ok, look. Halloween is the chance to dress any way you want to and have no one judge you for it. Just think about that. What have you always wanted to be?”

Tom immediately knows what the answer is, but instead of replying he just huffs and turns down another aisle that’s covered in fairy wings and glitter. He can’t possibly do it. Especially not for this party. For Robert’s party. It would be… inappropriate. He rounds the corner again and is faced with a shockingly huge assortment of superhero costumes. A foam version of Thor’s hammer sits on the shelf to his right, and he smirks as he picks it up and gives it a good twirl.

“In your face, Hemsworth,” he mutters quietly.

There’s a whole row of different Spider-Man costumes which makes him smile, especially when he sees a flimsy synthetic fabric version of the Iron Spider suit. And right next to that – a placement that thrills him even more than the suit alone - are the Iron Man costumes. Plastic faceplates, arc reactor gloves with LED lights, fabric onesies with fake, puffy muscles sewn in… it’s all there. Tom runs a finger along the edge of the faceplate before snatching his hand away like he’s been burned.

It’s all he can think about, even as they leave the store after Harrison buys his costume and Tom walks out empty-handed. He thinks about it on the ride home and through dinner until he finally makes excuses and runs off to hide in his room, laptop in hand, and puts on Iron Man 2. It doesn’t take long to get to the scene he wants. Tony Stark, diving through fireworks, landing on a flashy stage, surrounded by his Ironettes. Tom bites his lip as he stares intently at the bright red booty shorts, the long gloves, the crop tops… maybe, if he altered it just a bit, if he wore the mask… He can already feel his face heating up at the prospect of walking into Robert’s house dressed like that. Would he laugh? Would he be weirded out? Or… would he like it? Tom pushes the laptop off to the side and lets the movie play as he touches himself, coming to the sound of Robert’s voice in his headphones.

* * * * *

Tom is going to throw up. It’s inevitable, at this point. He’s in the back of a car squished between Harry and Harrison and he’s going to throw up. His stomach is in knots and he can’t remember ever being this nervous in his life. He’s used to the fluttering before a big stage performance or audition, but those nerves are more like excitement. This is sheer terror and he is going to THROW UP.

“Can you calm down? Jesus, you’re going to ruin my costume if you don’t stop squirming!” Harrison jabs a sharp elbow into his side and Tom jerks away into Harry who pushes him back.

“I just… I need some air.”

“The windows are all open! Take the mask off!”

That is the absolute last thing he wants to do. He was only able to leave the house in this costume with the mask securely over his face and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to take it off. He must be red as a tomato.

“Look, we’re here!” Harry crows. The car finally comes to a stop and they all pile out. Tom wants to collapse on the soft grass but he’s pulled along by four strong hands.

“Maybe I should… Look, I’ll just wait out here for a bit, ok? I just need—”

“Nope, absolutely not. Look mate, we already told you, he’s going to love it. Maybe not in the way you want him to-“ Tom punches Harry in the arm for that “-BUT, regardless, he’ll love it. You look great. And this is coming from someone who never turns down an opportunity to tell you you’re an ugly twat.”

“That was… almost sweet,” Tom says, and then yelps as they both drag him inside.

The party is in full swing and is absolutely packed with people. Small groups are standing around chatting, all in costume, and a live band is playing in the huge backyard to a crowded dancefloor. Tom recognizes only a few people – it’s hard to miss Scarlett even when she’s dressed like Morticia Addams – but that doesn’t bother him. Normally he loves mingling and meeting new people, and even dressed as he is it’s still exciting. It’s even easier after he quickly downs a few strong drinks, careful to only pull up the mask as far as it needs to go. The urge to vomit has pretty much dissipated and he’s actually beginning to enjoy himself, twirling around the dancefloor like a maniac until he’s slightly sweaty and out of breath.

“Water break!” he yells to Harry and squeezes through the crowd of people to get some air and hydrate. He finds a relatively quiet corner where he can chug half a water bottle in peace and is enjoying the cool air on his skin when someone taps him on the shoulder. He startles and nearly drops the bottle but manages to save it before turning around.

“Nice catch.”

Oh fuck. It’s him. It’s Robert. He hasn’t seen him the whole evening and assumed he was off being a good host so the whole thing almost slipped his mind, but now it’s all rushing back and he has to grip on to the fence post beside him to steady himself.

“Love the costume. Not exactly how I remember the Ironettes looking but I gotta say, this might be an improvement.”

Tom nearly chokes. He decided he couldn’t pull off the real Ironette costume as the distinct lack of breasts made it look a little awkward. So, he improvised. The shiny red and gold booty shorts stayed, of course. They made his ass look incredible. He bought the long red and gold arc reactor gloves and the plastic faceplate from the Halloween store, and instead of heeled boots he found a pair of gold high-tops and knee-high red socks. The shirt was the most difficult part, though. He went through a few variations before settling on something cute and comfortable: a red, cropped tank top. It was a bit loose and thin, so it flowed around his chest nicely and was short enough to show off his abs and his tiny waist. He also managed to find an LED necklace to serve as his arc reactor. It glowed a soft blue through the thin fabric of the shirt. Overall, he’s incredibly proud of what he came up with. Especially for someone who hates Halloween.

And now, with the way Robert is staring at him, he’s VERY happy he was brave enough to wear it.

“Is there someone under that gorgeous mask? Or are you too shy to say hello?”

Tom steels himself, takes a deep breath, and pulls the mask off.

Robert’s face goes through a myriad of emotions almost all at once. Shock, delight, amusement, and what is unmistakably arousal.

“Well. Tom Holland. As I live and breathe.” His voice is lower than before, more intimate, and when he takes a step forward Tom swears he feels the temperature go up by at least two degrees. He also notices that Robert is wearing eyeliner. The black kohl makes his eyes look even more gorgeous, and then there’s the red glitter dusted across his cheeks and around his hairline that is giving him an almost eerie glow.

“What are you supposed to be, then?” Tom asks. Robert smirks and points to the two small horns sticking out from his hair.

“The Devil, of course.”

“Of course,” Tom repeats weakly. It was barely a costume, the deep maroon suit looking more like red carpet attire than anything else, but fuck it looked incredible on him.

“I am the purveyor of sin on this fine evening,” he says, gesturing to the party, “so I thought I’d play the part. But you… you look far more sinful than me.”

Tom squeaks as Robert steps even closer and taps at the arc reactor on his chest.

“Cute,” he murmurs.

“Just… just wanted to show you how much of a fan I am… Mr. Stark.”

Robert’s eyes snap up to Tom’s and he doesn’t think he’s ever been looked at so intensely in his entire life.

“Is that so… Mr. Parker?”

Tom whines, loud enough for Robert to hear it. His hand travels down Tom’s body to squeeze at the bare skin of his waist.

“I think—”

“Robert!!”

They both jerk back as if they’re waking up from a trance. Someone is yelling for Robert and waving him inside, and he acknowledges them with a quick gesture. Turning back to Tom, he licks his lips and leans in to whisper in his ear.

“I think we’ll have to continue this later. Don’t leave without saying goodnight. Alright?”

“Yeah. Yes. O-ok. See you later,” Tom stutters, and when Robert disappears inside he chugs the rest of the water bottle and collapses back against the fence to catch his breath.

* * * * *

All the telltale signs of a party winding down are there. Most people have left, the band has stopped playing leaving only some low background music emanating from the speakers around the house, and the guests that remain are splayed out on various couches and chairs, half their costumes missing and happily drunk. The kitchen is a disaster and Tom feels bad adding more bottles to the mess, but he’s on a mission and can’t stop to tidy. After his run-in with Robert he only saw him briefly a few more times, mostly through a massive crowd, but he didn’t forget his words from earlier.

Don’t leave without saying goodnight.

Harrison and Harry have already gone home. They tried to get him to come with but Tom pretended to be enthralled in a conversation and told them he’d catch up in a bit. Now he’s wandering the massive house, peeking into various rooms as he looks for Robert. He gave up on wearing the mask after they met in the yard so it’s pushed up on his head like some sort of strange visor, his curls a sweaty mess beneath it. The second floor is quiet and empty; no one really came up here during the party anyway so it’s also much cleaner. A set of closed double doors is in front of him, and it’s the only place he hasn’t looked, so…

Tom slowly opens one door and pokes his head inside. Robert is lounging on a massive bed, scrolling on an iPad, glasses perched on his nose. He’s still got the horns on his head, and when he glances up over the rim of his glasses to smirk at Tom, he really does look positively devilish.

“Found you,” Tom says, trying to appear completely casual when his heart feels like it’s about to explode from under his ribcage.

“So you did. Come in. Close the door.”

Robert makes no effort to move so Tom slowly walks over to the bed, suddenly very conscious of how tight his shorts are as Robert unabashedly roams over his body with hungry eyes. He stops at the edge and toes at the plush carpet with one foot.

“Have you been drinking?”

Tom nods.

“How much?”

“Not that much,” Tom replies, understanding what Robert is trying to ask. “But maybe just enough to give me some liquid courage.”

Robert raises an eyebrow but waits patiently for Tom to make the first move, only shifting slightly to drop the iPad and his glasses on the nightstand. Guess it’s now or never.

He kneels on the edge of the bed with one leg first, testing the waters. Robert stays perfectly still. A deep inhale to steady himself and then Tom goes for it, pushing up on the bed and straddling Robert’s lap. He hesitates for only a moment before settling right on the seam of those expensive maroon trousers.

A pleased hum rumbles out of Robert’s chest as he runs two smooth, warm hands up Tom’s spread thighs to his waist.

“My own personal cheerleader, hm? I always knew you looked up to me but I never expected this… Pete.”

He catches Tom’s eye and gives him a brief wink. Tom’s heart speeds up even more as excitement bubbles in his stomach. Playing. Robert is playing with him. He was desperately hoping he wouldn’t drop this, leave it as the brief tease it was back in the yard. Acting with Robert is one of his favourite things in the entire world, and being able to do it like this? God, for the first time he’s actually happy that Tony Stark is dead because he’s never going to be able to act across from him again without thinking of this moment.

Robert nuzzles into his neck and starts leaving wet, sucking kisses all along the line of his throat. Tom shivers at the sensation and then starts to giggle when the tickle of Robert’s beard is too much against his sensitive skin. Robert laughs into his neck and nips playfully.

“You’re so darn cute,” he whispers. Robert has always been free with his compliments, telling Tom he’s handsome or pretty or talented, but somehow it just hits different when his hands are also squeezing Tom’s ass.

“Want to touch you, Mr. Stark,” Tom murmurs into his ear, easily switching his accent to sound even more like Peter. He feels Robert shudder underneath him and can’t help the pleased smirk that crosses his face.

“Yeah?” Robert says, grasping his chin gently so he can look into his eyes. “Do you even know what you’re doing, sweetheart?”

Tom absolutely knows what he’s doing, but Peter…

“I… uh… I was hoping you could teach me. I’m a really quick learner, sir,” he says softly.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Robert mutters, breaking character for a moment. He collects himself quickly though, shifting Tom in his lap just enough so he can undo his trousers and pull himself out. Tom’s mouth literally waters at the sight of Robert’s dick and he uses every ounce of willpower not to just pounce on him immediately.

“Want to feel your mouth, Pete,” Robert says, rubbing a thumb along Tom’s lower lip. “You can go slow. Use your tongue.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark,” Tom replies, trying not to sound too eager. He shuffles down a little and purposely sticks his ass up in the air. The red and gold shimmer on the shorts catches the dim light and he gives his hips a quick wiggle when he sees Robert staring.

“Maybe I should’ve reworked the design on your suit, hm? You like wearing little shorts like this?”

Tom nods and presses his face into the curls at the base of Robert’s dick, inhaling the scent of him. He feels the thick cock jerk against his cheek and angles his head to lick up the whole length of it, swirling his tongue at the tip. The bitter taste of precome blooms in his mouth and he moans, forgetting himself for a moment as he starts to give a much more experienced blowjob than what Peter would be capable of. Robert knocks the mask off Tom’s head so he can tighten his hand in his messy curls.

“Jesus,” Robert groans, “you’re good at this, kid.”

“Mmm, just want to make you feel good, sir,” Tom hums. He manages to remove one of the arc reactor gloves so he can grip Robert’s cock while he uses his mouth everywhere he can reach.

“Well, you’re doing a—fuck, god—a damn fine job.”

Tom thinks he could stay here forever, on his knees, mouth stretched almost painfully around Robert’s cock. He explores up his chest with his other hand, rubbing at one nipple with his thumb which makes Robert jerk underneath him.

“Keep doing that,” Robert spits out as he pushes Tom’s head down even further. He gags a bit but the incredible sensation of being stuffed and used overrides everything else and he takes every inch Robert gives him while tugging and pinching at his apparently very sensitive nipples. He drifts for a bit, so content and fuzzy, and only comes back when Robert pulls him off and throws him down on the bed.

“Pull up that shirt for me, sweetheart. Gonna paint your pretty chest with my come.”

“Oh my god, fuck, yes, please, please, want it,” Tom moans, shoving the fabric out of the way as Robert jerks himself off quickly above him. He can’t decide whether to watch his dick or his face when he finally comes, thick and white all over his chest and the arc reactor necklace. Robert’s slightly red in the face and gasping for breath as he steadies himself with a hand beside Tom’s head. Tom leans to the side to kiss at his knuckles and then dares to run his fingers through the come on the necklace and bring it to his mouth to taste.

“You’re going to give an old man a heart attack,” Robert says. His pupils are all blown out as he watches Tom hollow his cheeks as he sucks. Tom understands the feeling. He’s so hard in his shorts that it’s painful.

“Please,” he whispers, biting his lip, “will you touch me, Mr. Stark?”

“It would be a pleasure, Mr. Parker,” he replies. He palms him over the shorts which makes Tom buck into his hand. “As much as I love these… they have to go.”

The shorts are so tight that they both struggle to pull them down but finally they’re tossed off to a distant corner of the bedroom and Tom hisses as Robert immediately get his mouth on his cock. It feels absolutely heavenly, especially after being trapped in the confines of that uncomfortable fabric for so long. Robert takes his time, licks and sucks everywhere he can, all the way down to that sensitive spot right behind his balls. Tom whimpers as his tongue gets so fucking close to his hole but then pulls away.

“Want to use my fingers… s’that ok?”

“Y-yeah, please, yes!”

Robert grabs some lube from the nightstand and even warms it first before sliding one thick finger over Tom’s hole, pressing just the tip inside. Aside from the thrill of having Robert’s finger inside of him, the most incredible part is that he doesn’t stop sucking him off. The level of coordination is astounding and Tom would have complimented him on it if he was able to speak beyond moans and pleas for more. A second finger quickly joins the first and Tom’s body accepts it without hesitation.

“Good boy,” Robert murmurs in between gentle licks, “look at you, hm? So pretty and pink.”

Robert shifts him down a bit more which makes his legs fall open even wider. He feels so exposed and whines a little, trying to draw his knees close without squeezing Robert too much.

“Aw, don’t be shy sweetheart, you’re gorgeous,” Robert says. “You can put your legs up on me if that helps, ok?”

He hears the rubber of his high-tops squeak against Robert’s skin and somehow the sound is more obscene than anything else. He tries not to thump his heels too hard but fuck, Robert is doing something with his tongue that should be illegal and Tom can’t stop squirming. A low chuckle reverberates against his stomach as Robert pulls off briefly, his fingers still working in slow, gentle pushes.

“Aren’t you sensitive, hm?”

“P-please, Ro—Mr. Stark, please, need to come,” Tom begs, accent slipping slightly as he tries to shove himself down even deeper on Robert’s thick fingers. He’s held in place by the firm grip of Robert’s other hand on his waist and he whines petulantly.

“Anything for my favourite little spider,” Robert coos. He crooks his fingers and Tom arches up off the bed like he’s been shocked. He feels like he’s been on the edge since they first met in the yard and now Robert’s fingers are pressing right on his prostate and his hot mouth is back on his dick and he doesn’t think he could possibly hold off any longer if he tried.

“Gonna… gonna…” Tom’s whole body is taut, like a wire ready to snap, and when Robert takes him all the way down his throat he comes with a ragged gasp. Distantly he thinks he should be considerate and pull out but it’s like his body isn’t under his control anymore, and even though he hears wet choking noises it seems like Robert is just fine with him coming in his mouth. His fingers have stopped moving and he lets Tom clench around them for a few moments before gently sliding them out. Tom whines at the loss even though he’s so oversensitive right now he couldn’t possibly take anymore.

After taking a minute to catch his breath and regain any semblance of normal brain function, he finally looks down. Robert’s eyeliner is smudged and Tom feels a bizarre sense of pride about it. He can’t stop running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair which is also a complete mess.

“Just FYI,” Robert finally says, his voice a little raspy, “you’re going to be finding red glitter in every nook and cranny for about three years after this.” He punctuates that sentence by rubbing his cheek against Tom’s thigh, grinning as he does it.

“You’re a dick,” Tom says fondly, giggling even more as Robert continues to just rub his face all over his body. “But can’t say I’m gonna care that much if I’m being reminded about this.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Robert says, that absolutely devilish grin returning, “I can give you more than just glitter for that.” Tom squeals as he starts sucking a deep bruise into the inside of one thigh, teeth marks and all, that Tom presses on every time he sees it for the next week.

[galaxyedging]

A little fluff about the times Mando and the reader touch.

Worth the Risk.

"First rule of going on the run, don't run, walk." This advice had worked pretty well over the years. It did not take into account that one day your running companion would be a large man covered in a ridiculous shiny material. Luckily for you, your pursuers didn't actually know what either of you look like. Only that something that belonged to them had gone missing. Unluckily for you, in big crowds like this, Mandalorians drew attention. In smaller crowds people's instincts were to turn away, to not catch his attention. Hidden amongst a bigger crowd, people became bold, they stared and whispered.

"We need to get out of this crowd." Mando's voice was tense.

"The crowd will be the only thing slowing them down and hiding us from suspicion. We stay in it then make a break for the Crest when we see an opening." you replied calmly.

You had been able to move at a steady pace through the crowd, you in the lead, Mando behind. The people around you walked slowly, browsing the market stalls. Up ahead the movement of the crowd change. Drums, bells and whistles sounded in an upbeat rhythm. As soon as you passed the last stall you were swept to the side in the dancing crowd. Caught up in the movement you lost your bearings for a moment. Struggling to turn as the dancing bodies pressed into you from every direction, you managed to looked over your left shoulder. No sign of the familiar glint of Baskar in the sun. Colour swamped your vision as people dance with scarves and flags. Colourful powder burst into the air, sending out vivid rainbow clouds than misted everything they touched. The effect was beautiful but disorienting. You started to push back towards where you thought Mando had been. You ducked under flags and weaved through the crowd. Still no sign. Suddenly you were aware of someone at your side. It was strange since you were literally walled in by bodies but this felt different. As you turned, relived to see Mando, you felt him grip your hand. His grip was strong and firm. Warmth seemed to radiate through his gloves. Your hand slotted into his perfectly. Before you could think about if for too much longer he pulled you through the crowd. Making a steady progression, you periodically checked behind you. Only when you finally reached the Crest you realized that not only were you still holding hands but your fingers were now intertwined. Letting go, he went off to prepare the ship, leaving you to look down at you hand. The symbolism of space where his hand had once was being highlighted by absent of the coloured powder that had settled on your skin, wasn't lost on you.

Damn it, you cursed your own stupidity. As you lay there, shaking with fever, you listed all the things that were as beautiful as they were deadly. All the pretty flowers of various shaped blooms, their rich colours and wonderful scents. Animals that had incredibly beautiful patterns and cute features that could kill you where you stood. Mando, who's walked alone had you completely enthralled when you first saw him, could kill you in a number of ways. He might actually, if this fever was affecting you so badly that you could no longer distinguish between your internal monologue and your actual voice. He was still turned away from you mixing up a remedy so you figured you were safe. He returned to your side with a small bowl. "Here." he said placing his hand under your head, gently lifting it so you could drink. "That will counteract any poison. You're still in for a rough 24 hours but you'll live. Stay on the path and away from the tree blossoms in the future." As he lowered your head his hand grazed your cheek. It was cool compared to your heated skin. Instinctively you grabbed it, holding it still, leaning in, enjoying the relief it provided. You were too wrapped up in your own bliss to notice the sigh that came from the Mandalorian. He removed his hand and went off to fetch a cool wash cloth. He laid it over you forehead before going to sit on crate across the cargo hold from you. "Get some rest, I'll watch over you." he informed you folding his arms across his chest and relaxing back slightly.

"Can you...can you watch over me from over here?" your voice was little more that a whisper. You weren't sure if was pity or kindness that motivated him to move. He dragged the crate over next to you, getting comfortable once more. "Sleep." He uttered. Feeling safer to do so you closed your eyes.

In the morning, as your eyes blinked open, you took inventory of all the discomfort in your body. Your head pounded, your mouth was dry, your back ached, your stomach churned, you hand felt strangely heavy. It took you a second to realise why. Mando's ungloved hand was in yours. Fingers interlaced just next to where his head lay on the end of your cot. Soft, steady breathing indicated he was still asleep. Shifting slightly for a better look you gave his hand a once over. His skin was tanned, less damaged than you would have thought. You thought you could see a faint scar by his thumb. To confirm you suspicions you ran your thumb across his skin. The skin itself was soft and smooth, there was a slight raise where the scar was. Even in his sleeping state there was still strength in the way his fingers held yours. The smile that had spread across your face suddenly dropped when his helmet moved and his visor met your gaze. "How are feeling?" he asked voice rough with sleep before clearing his throat.

"Better." you nodded wearily.

"Good. I'll go check on the kid." There wasn't much in his tone to read but you felt how slowly he slide his hand from yours before climbing the ladder to the cockpit.

Dust and debries rained down on you as the blaster shots hit the top of the wall you were hiding behind. "Mando!" you yelled through your comm.

"Here." he appeared over the wall blaster shots pinging off his Baskar. "Come on." he grunted dragging you to your feet.

"Where?!" you shouted taking cover in front of his armoured frame as shots ricocheted off of him.

He answered by wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you to him "Hold on."

Panic flared in you as you realised his plan. "Oh no. Mando! No. Wait!"

His hands held your face. "Trust me. Hold on."

Hell, you did trust him. Throwing your arms around his neck, you held on for dear life, literally. His jetpack roared to life and as your feet left the ground you hooked them on his calves. Once you had risen a few feet to clear the roof Mando had to tilt you back so he could control the direction you were flying in. In fear you wrapped your legs fully around him, clinging to him even tighter. He had to adjust to your new position by placing one had on your lower back on one hand behind your knee. Moments later you shrieked as something wrapped around your head. It was only when you were out from under it you realised Mando had flown you through a flag. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." he rushed out before adding loudly "There's the Crest." Coming to land inside the ship Mando gently released your leg allowing you to stand. His hand remained on your lower back until you unwrapped your arms from his neck. "Thank you." you panted. Before he could respond you added "But if you ever do that again I will steal that thing and push you out the ship mid flight."

"Shit!" you curse as the panel in front of you sparked. Thanks to a massive storm you had crashed landed on a frozen wasteland. The nearest town was too far to get to without the Crest. Mando wouldn't have been safe flying there in this weather. Hoping to patch things up so you could limp over there, you had both set to work. Hours later there was still no joy and things were only getting worse. Night was falling, the temperature was dropping. Your hands were too cold to work any more. Mando returned from outside. His visor was frosted, even with his armour he was shivering. "That's it! It's freezing. We have no power, no heat. Am sleeping until morning." you finally snapped, picking up your glow rod before stomping around the ship to gather anything that could be used as a blanket. Over the heavy sound of your feet you could hear the sounds of the ships manual locks being engaged. "The ship is secure." Mando informed you.

"Good, so you can take your armour off." you told him as you shoved all the material you had found into the small compartment where he slept.

"Why?" he asked coming to a stop next to you.

"We have to conserve body heat. The helmet can stay on. Your bunk is the best place for us to sleep." you stated

He stood for a moment, head cocked to the side in thought before beginning to remove his armour. Once he was ready you allowed Mando to climb into the small space first before crawling in beside him.

Carefully you pressed yourself into him as close as you could without letting your position become too 'intimate'. He angled his hips away from you as you slotted into his side. You folded your arms underneath you to provide another barrier. Mando lifted up a little to carefully covered you both with the blankets. He lay back down his arms fell awkwardly, one behind your back, one at his side. He shuffled slightly then seemed satisfied with his position. You were about as comfortable as you were going to get. The only problem was the cold, hard metal pressed against your face. Mando picked up on your discomfort. "Are you ok? Do you need me to move?"

"It's just..your helmet is cold. Could you maybe lift it a little? Just off your neck? I won't look." you asked wondering if you'd ask too much of him. After what felt like forever, he slowly moved the helmet up. Just enough to give you room to settle your head into his neck. The rim of his helmet rested on your head. It wasn't ideal but it was an improvement.

"Thank you." you sighed enjoying the comfort and warm he was providing you.

"You're welcome." he said quietly. Reached up above his head he pressed a button to shut the compartment door. Before he lay back down he removed the flashlight from the side of his helmet and attached it to the wall. As he settled back down he spoke "If you wake up first or need to use the fresher wake me before you touch the light or open the door. My helmet's not fully on it may slip off."

He was so matter of fact about it you almost didn't register the level of responsibility that put on you. If you awoke and forgot, his Creed could be broken. You both trusted each other to have each others backs in a fight. It was a necessity between you. This level of trust was something else. It was a little emotionally overwhelming, so you did what you always did in situations like that...joked. "Wow. I gotta say I could get pretty tempted to peek. I mean there's a flashlight right there."

"And there's a blaster right there." Mando retorted.

As you laughed into his neck, you felt his own chuckle rumble in his chest. As you drifted off to sleep you realise that his arm was now around your back, pulling you in just a little.

Surprisingly, you slept pretty well. It took you a second to become fully conscious of your surroundings and make sense of them. Thankfully, the first thing you remembered was why it was pitch black. The second thing you became aware off was that, at some point in the night, you and Mando had almost switched positions. Now you were laying on your back with him on top of you. The difference was, in your unconscious state, their was no compulsion to be polite or reserved in your touching.

Mando was almost fully on top of you. His left leg was in between your legs with you right leg over it. His arms were around your waist, holding you close and his helmet was buried in you neck. No, not his helmet, his face. At least the lower half of it was. His warm breath skimmed your skin. His cheek and the barest edge of his lips rested on you. His words from the night before ran through your head. Racking your brains, you thought of everything he had ever said about his Creed. He can't be SEEN by another living thing without his helmet, he didn't seem bothered by the possibility that his helmet could come off, just with you SEEING him with it off. So you were ok, you should just wake him, have him put it back on? Despite your own reassurances, you felt guilty. If you could slip it back on, without waking him, then there was no problem. You would take the knowledge, of the brief moment you were aware of his face against your neck, to your grave. Gently lifting your hand that had been wrapped around his back, you reached up to steady the back of his helmet. Misjudging where it was your finger tips were met with thick, soft hair. Resisting the urge to sink your fingers into it, you tried for his helmet again. This time you poured all you attention into finding and gently grasping the edge of the helmet. You concentrated, keeping your movement small, as not to wake him. You even focused on keeping your breathing steady and quiet. All your effort was going into being as silent and as stealthy as possible, which is why you almost died when Mando spoke. "Do I have to get that blaster?"

"Fuck! Don't do that!" you weren't exactly sure what you were telling him off for. For suddenly speaking and scaring you? For letting you hear his unfiltered voice and the feelings it roused in you?

His head rose for a moment as he slipped the helmet on before lowering it back to you shoulder. "Do you need to get up?"

"No." Good job you were a good liar. You could do with peeing but there was no way you were willing extract yourself from under him.

"Then sleep. The storm is still raging. We might as well rest while we can." He made no move to adjust his position or move from you before relaxing back down. Since he seemed comfortable with how your were positioned you returned your arm to his back. Sleep was now eluding you so you listened to the storm. Unconsciously, you began to rub your hand your and down Mando's lower back. The gentle movement eventually caused his tunic to ride up, exposing his skin. Only when he let out a deep sigh at your hand meeting his bare skin did you realise what you were doing and that he was awake.

"Mando..." you began, the cover of darkness suddenly making you feel bold "...when was the last time you held someone like this?"

"Like this...?" he paused "Never."

"Never?" you echoed.

"It's not a good idea for a Mandalorian to be this vulnerable. It's risky." he informed you.

"So why now?" you asked resuming your movements. "Easier to dispose of my body in the frozen wasteland if you have to use that blaster?"

"No." he sighed as his own hand dipped under the clothing at your lower back and spread out across the bare skin there. "You're worth the risk."

[i-lionheart]

IT'S NOT A WIP ANYMORE BITCHES!!!!!

Ok so i wrote a fic that's basically this post by the-modern-typewriter but i took the concept and some main elements and rewrote it as a kylo ren self insert because of course i did i wanted a comfort fic and i refuse to apologize its not plagiarism i cited my sources k thx

anyways this is a Kylo ren x fem!reader (but the only time reader's gender is referenced as when they're referred to as "good girl" so make of that what you will). Angst, torture mention, self harm tw, suicide tw, depression tw, safe for work but implicit nudity. Also there's none of that "y/n" or (name) shit because I just personally hate it. I made this for me not you but it totally fukin slaps so read on at your own risk lmao

Tell Me Why

“You’ve been astonishingly resilient,” Ren said softly. “What a shame it has to come to this.”

His gaze roamed over you lazily, possessively, drinking in the sight of you. You were bound, gagged, and strapped down to an interrogation table. In his personal quarters, of all places.

You would trade every star in the galaxy to be anywhere but here.

Ren picked up a syringe full of clear, thick liquid off the tray of wicked-looking instruments that lay beside you and held it in front of your eyes. “I’m expect you’re quite familiar with this," he said, voice deceptively casual. "The resistance undoubtedly trained you to resist truth serum as insurance against the unthinkable. Obviously,” he said, indicating your current predicament, “They are fools.”

So it would be truth serum. You could handle this easily enough. All you had to do was tell him the truth, but not the one he was looking for. Simple.

Some miniscule change in your expression must have given your hubris away. Ren chuckled. “You poor thing.” he said. “Do you really think that we haven’t made… improvements on this since my grandfather held your precious General captive so long ago?”

You swallowed thickly, blood pounding through your temples as your breath caught in your throat. What could he possibly be talking about? Truth serum had been perfected in the days of Old Republic and hadn’t changed for centuries.

What advantage could he possibly hope to have?

Ren lowered his face until his eyes were level with yours. Though every fiber of your being screamed at you to look away, you met his gaze, trembling.

“You know as well as I do that the Old Republic, the Jedi, were weak. Fools,” he spat. “They were afraid to do what was truly necessary to meet their goals. The First Order has no such weaknesses.”

He lowered his mouth and whispered rapidly in your ear, his breath ghosting along your skin. “Unfortunately for you, I am not a Jedi, and this will hurt quite a bit. I only wish that I could remove that gag and hear every shriek that comes out of that pretty little mouth without risking you biting off your own tongue.” He clucked his tongue softly as he stood up. “What a shame.”

He replaced the syringe on the tray and selected a small pair of medical scissors, then began to methodically cut through the fabric of your sleeve. "I would apologize for the outfit," he said sardonically, "but I rather suspect that you have much bigger things to be worrying about at the moment."

Once your sleeve was split all the way to your elbow, Ren set the scissors down and set his leather-clad fingers to the task of spreading the halved fabric of your sleeve to fully reveal your bare skin. He was agonizingly gentle, as though trying to spread the petals of a struggling flower and help it bloom.

His work complete, his eyes and his fingers roved over your exposed arm, relishing your vulnerability. If you weren't paralyzed with fear, you would have squirmed, thrashed, done anything to flee his scrutiny.

Force, please, you thought desperately, don't let him see them. Please, anything but that. I'll give anything. Let him do what he wishes to me as long as they go unnoticed. Please.

As though sensing your frantic pleas, Ren's eyes locked onto your wrist, onto the unnaturally straight cuts and scars criss crossing your skin.

"What is this?" he said softly.

Shit.

It was the last straw. The spell of fear holding you in place broke. You twisted your arm as far as you could in the restraints, trying to hide what it was far too late to conceal. Instantly his hand shot out and pinned your wrist to the table as you writhed in his grasp.

"You know as well as I do that you cannot take back what has been revealed. The mynock is out of the bag, little one. Are you going to lie still, and let me finish what your own foolish actions have started? Or am I going to have to make you?"

Realizing it was of no use, that you were absolutely, utterly powerless, you stopped thrashing. Tears glistened on your cheeks. Your breath hitched as choked sobs pushed their way past your gag. You fought for every inhale and exhale, lungs crushed under the weight of your own rising panic.

But bewilderingly, inexorably, you were still.

"Good girl," he breathed.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his hand from your wrist. When you remained motionless, even without his grip holding you to the table, his hands moved to your elbow and, abandoning those damn scissors, he began to finish what he had started.

He tore first one sleeve, then the other, and made short work of everything else until you were laid bare before him. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

Kylo Ren's eyes roved over you, taking in every mark, every scar, every bruise on your bare skin. You wanted to fight it so badly, wanted twist yourself away from his agonizing scrutiny, but all you could do was shut your eyes and pray for it to be over. His burning gaze held you immobile like the galaxy's most powerful vice.

"I know what marks I've left on this body, little one," he said, voice unbearably tender. "I know what scars one gets from doing what we do. But this-" his fingers brushed your wrists, your thighs, your torso, tracing the bar code that you had marked yourself with in so many places- "this is not that." His voice, though still intolerably gentle, was taut, hinting at the tightly leashed rage that you could feel bubbling just below his deceptively calm exterior.

For so long, you had been terrified that someone would find out, would ask an unavoidable question, would see something they shouldn't have because you slipped up.

You hadn't expected it to be him.

What the hell was he going to do to you?

After another excruciating moment of consideration, he reached up and unbuckled the gag, carefully sliding it out from between your teeth and setting it on the tray beside the scissors and abandoned syringe. You worked your jaw, gratefully bringing a bit of relief to your sore muscles and parched mouth. You were so tired. So, so tired, too physically and psychologically exhausted to care what happened to you anymore. You had already been on this table for an eternity too long. Let him get what he wanted from you and finally, at long last, leave you for dead.

"What is it?" he asked evenly. "Control? Punishment? Or something else?"

Your eyes snapped open, wide with fear and shock, only to find your gaze locked together with his.

"What?" The word came out of your mouth in a grating, dry rasp.

"You heard me," he said. "Why do you do it?"

How dare he. How dare he. The absolute nerve he had, to strap you to a table you and torture you endlessly, and then find out about this and pretend that he cared.

"Fuck off," you said.

"That's no answer."

"You don't even care." You glanced away, eyes flooded with silent tears that you were too embarrassed about to let him see. "No one does."

You flinched as you felt a leather glove hand touch you, then realized that he was caressing your face. Stroking your hair. Comforting you, exactly where you needed it. Holding you like your mother did, so long ago. Touching you the way you had been starving for for so long.

How could he possibly know what you needed so desperately, much less be doing it of his own accord? What happened to him?

You finally mustered up the courage to look back at him, despite the blinding tears and your fear of what you might see. When you finally wrenched your gaze up to meet his, you were shocked by what you saw.

Pity. Concern. Genuine worry. Anger, not at you, but at the people who watched you spiral so far down and did nothing.

All this he told you with his eyes alone.

How was this possible? Stars' sake, he was your enemy. He hated you. So why was he looking at you like he was trying to offer you a lifeline when he was supposed to want you dead?

"Why are you doing this to me?" you whispered.

"Answer me," he said quietly, "And I'll stop."

You took a rattling breath in, and shut your eyes.

You had no choice.

"It's everything," you said softly. "The control. The punishment. All of it." You opened your eyes again and looked back at him as a sob built in your throat. "It keeps me alive, even though I don't deserve to be."

---

"It keeps me alive, even though I don't deserve to be."

The words hit Kylo like a dagger to the heart.

So that was why you had never acted on the desires he sensed in you, why you wanted to join him so badly but rejected his offers at every turn. That was why, when he offered you his hand, his teaching, his service, a position by his side, you almost took it before you wrenched yourself away. The Resistance never understood you, saw you as nothing more than a tool for a job. And you didn't think you deserved the what he could provide.

The sobs he had watched you struggle against for so long finally spilled past your lips in a tidal wave. He shushed you as one would a frightened animal, brushed away your tears with his thumb, and quickly undid the restraints at your ankles and wrist. He slid his arms under you and lifted you as easily as though you were a child, one arm under your legs to support your weight, the other pressing your head to his chest as you sobbed, the Force supporting you where he couldn't.

"Easy now," he said, voice low and soothing. "Easy, easy, easy- there we go, come on, come on, there's a good girl. I've got you. I've got you. You're safe now. You're safe. Good girl, come with me. Come with me, now."

He kept up the constant stream of reassurances as he carried you to his bed, holding you with one arm and the Force as he pulled back the covers with the other before setting you in the bed. He kicked off his boots and slid in beside you, pulling you close to his chest, telling you what you had needed to hear for so long.

You were going to be okay, he told you. He promised. Vowed to keep you by his side and give you everything he had to offer, fulfill your every need.

He'd give you the galaxy, if you asked for it. But all you needed was him.

The two of you stayed there until your sobs subsided, his hand absently stroking your hair, your tears soaking his shirt. Neither of you said anything, but you both knew.

You were finally where you belonged. And you were here to stay.

[trexy225]

Three Hearts-Chapter 26: Modifications

Summary: Olivia gets her assistants back, and her confidence

Authors Note: So I tried to make this as movie accurate as I could, but I mean we only got 7 min of Olivia, (which is NOT ok) so I had to make A LOT of stuff up, but I thought that her suit being more like T’Challas suit and Iron Man’s nano suit would be more reasonable, and I thought having the actuators surgically implanted would be more dramatic.

It took several months, but the assistants were finally rebuilt with a transparent reinforced vibration skeleton and silicone exoskeleton with her nanotech to repair it in case of any damage, as well as claw upgrades which had lab tools as well as some weapons, Rosie programmed a new chip that reduced the assistant's intelligence and she added a program that she hoped would prevent the actuators from creating their own programs, she spent weeks coding the most complex program ever to protect Olivia's higher brain functions. She also made them less chatty, but she knew that their personalities were important, and finally, she uploaded the new combat system with an adaptive AI, it would be able to counter, block and attack its opponent in an instant. It was going to keep her Liv safe. She also designed a nanotech armored suit made of the same materials for her to wear under her clothes, for sudden combat.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Rosie asked her as Dr. Connors walked in to complete the surgery.

“I need to do this,” Olivia answered as she squeezed her hand.

Dr. Connors put the anesthesia mask over her face. “Could you please count down from 10 for me Doctor?” He asked.

“10, 9, 8,7…” Olivia went under.

Rosie sighed as she handed Dr. Connors the assistants and the chip.

“I can take it from here Rosie. Although I do need the entire room” Dr. Connors assured her, holding up his prosthetic arm. “It may not be the real thing… yet.” He muttered.

“Thank you, Curt, I’ll um, get out of your hair.” Rosie brushed a strand of hair out of Olivia's face and went outside to wait.

After a few hours, Dr. Connors opened the door. Rosie jumped up.

“Is she ok?” She asked.

“Were you out here the entire time?”

“Yes, is she ok?”

“Yes, yes she’s fine. She’s waking up right now so she may be a bit loopy.”

Rosie walked into the room to see Olivia sitting upright, the assistants were already on, she could hear them chittering as they explored the room.

“Liv?” Rosie asked.

Olivia turned to her and smiled “Hello my Rosette.”

Rosie ran and hugged her.

“I’m so happy you’re ok! Are you ok?” she asked.

“I feel amazing.” Olivia pulled her into a deep kiss, and the two entangled themselves in each other, the actuators chittered excitedly.

“I’ll leave you two alone…” Dr. Connors backed out of the room awkwardly and the two women chuckled.

Olivia kissed Rosie again and she giggled.

“Doctor Octavius! We are at work.” She teased.

“I know that, just one more kiss?” She pleaded.

“When we get home baby. Then you can have me all to yourself.” Rosie winked.

“I can’t wait.” Olivia purred.

“So these are the assistants?” Rosie asked.

“Yes, they’re an improvement, it feels natural, like they were destined to be a part of me.”

“And you have full control?” Rosie asked.

“Of course I do, all thanks to my amazing girlfriend. We should give them names.”

“Well… I think that one of them should be named Agatha and another Alfred.” Rosie offered.

“I was going to name this one Otto, and this one Nessa,” Olivia said.

“They’re perfect. Should you put on that suit?” Rosie offered.

“Of course.” Olivia tapped the button on her new hexagon glasses, instantly the suit materialized onto her body, fitting like a glove.

“How does it feel?”

“It feels amazing, I-I feel so confident and safe.” Olivia hugged Rosie again and started to kiss her, Rosie giggled as Olivia planted little kisses along her neck.

“Am I interrupting something?” A deep voice asked.

Olivia immediately stopped and turned around. Rosie looked down at the ground. “Wilson! I thought you were flying back tomorrow-”

“What the hell is this? Why is there a hole in your window, and why the hell does it look like a tornado flew in your office and what the hell are you wearing, what is this? You look like an octopus.”

“It’s Doctor Octopus.” Olivia corrected.

“That’s a shitty name, how about Doc Ock?”

“That works. Back to your question, I had to build myself an armored suit and upgrade my actuators after-”

“After what?” Wilson growled.

“After Spiderman stole some of our weapon designs-”

Fisk slammed his fists on her lab table, breaking it in half.

“HE WHAT?! How the hell did you let him do that?” he stomped over to her, Rosie stepped in front of Olivia, but he shoved her aside, Olivia glared at him.

“Don’t you dare touch my Rosie.” She growled.

“This was the last straw, Octavius.” Wilson raised his fist and swung down, Rosie cried out, but there was no blood.

Wilson's eyes widened as Olivia’s actuator, Agatha stopped his punch, the others planted themself on the ground, Olivia smirked.

“L-Let go of me.” He struggled.

“No, I don’t think I will.” She said with a smug smirk, Alfred landed an uppercut which sent Wilson flying back.

Wilson roared out in anger, he fumbled as he took out his phone and punched something in. Olivia smoothly traveled over to him, the actuators kept her above the ground, she towered over him. “Sorry Fisk, I don’t think you can phone a friend.” She smashed the phone.

Wilson gave a smug smile. “He’s not a friend.”

Olivia narrowed her eyes at him until she heard a roar in the distance, her eyes widened.

“I told you what would happen if you disobeyed me, Octavius, what a shame too. You were making me so much money I was really-” Wilson fell to the ground, passed out, Rosie was behind him, pointing a tranquilizer gun at him.

“Where the hell did you get that?” Olivia asked.

“You never know when a wild Fisk is gonna come running in and fuck shit up,” Rosie smirked.

“You’re perfect.” Olivia swooned.

The two were interrupted by a much louder roar, Olivia swore she could feel a gust of wind.

“You need to leave my Rosette, it’s not safe for you here.”

“It’s not safe for you either! If you’re staying I’m staying!” “I’m the one with the weapons and the reinforced body armor! Go!” Agatha wrapped itself around Rosie and shoved her outside, Olivia could hear a pissed-off Rosie banging on the window. “Dr. Olivia Kathryn Octavius if you don’t open this door this instant I will-”

“Dr. Rosalie Morales-Davis Thorne I need you to trust me on this, trust yourself on this! I will be fine, you need to stay safe!”

“I LOVE YOU!” Rosie yelled angrily as she ran off.

“I LOVE YOU TOO!” Olivia snapped as she got ready to fight her old friend.

[webeattheuniverse2to1]

Tell me a lie, I’ll believe you

CHAPTER 6

Time ... how many times have we wished it to pass quickly?

When we get bored, we want time to be in a second. But, if we stop and think ... for what?

Why do we want to escape those situations? What awaits us? What's after?

Instead, we should stop and enjoy those moments. The moments that we consider less significant.

The ones we believe we can have forever. That will never end. Do you know what they are called? Happy Island. But I call them limbo. The calm before the storm. The light before the dark. The day before the night. We know how long they will last, because we know when they end. But we can't know when the night will end.

We can only commit ourselves to survive, in the memory of the light.

And curse us for not having fully savored those moments, wishing they would pass.

And now? Here is the answer? We still needed time.

The first time was at Kepner's wedding. Even though she hadn't used the words "will you marry me" directly, she meant that. And he was angry when she said she wasn't ready. Not 'no', but she just wasn't ready.

The second time ... well, that was a disaster.

He thought she was ready. But she wasn't. In fact, it wasn't that, just 'I can't'. He could not. Those words were like a punch in the stomach. She didn't tell him why, but she just couldn't.

The third time ... there was no question. It was just 'no'.

Not 'I'm not ready'. Not 'I can't'. Only no.

Take or leave.

Stay or go.

And he made the mistake of choosing the latter.

And he curses himself for doing it.

If he had listened to her, if he hadn't forced her ... now maybe everything would be different.

If he and he alone listened to her, they could both take the day off the next day so she could tell him everything.

Today they could have been together.

Instead they shot her.

Weather. Here's what he wanted. He still wanted time with her, to be with her. To be able to stand by her, listen to her talk about hospital gossip over and over ... those talks he never paid much attention to. But he should have done it. What would he give him to be able to hear her laughter again echoing through the loft walls.

The loft. That landfill she had bought for them, so they could be alone and where to start building a life together.

Alex thinks about this as he walks into the loft after two weeks.

He didn't want to leave Jo, but she had been taken to the operating room so that the others could understand how far the infection was. He wanted to stay close to her, but in the end he was forced. How could he go against Bailey? So now he finds himself there. It feels so empty without her. As if something is missing. Alex sighs, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge, looking around. The couch. The one she had bought for him with the money she won on the bet. The kitchen. Where he had failed miserably several times to cook something. He chuckles at the thought as their whole story passes by. Blurred images of Jo disappear as a lone tear escapes his eye. He turns behind him to look at her side of the bed. He forcibly closes her eyes, bringing her eyebrows closer together, warding off tears.

When he opens them, he takes a deep breath. Suddenly his sense of oppression seems to crush him as he quickly gets up, throws his clothes into a duffel bag and walks away.

He can't be without her. And if she doesn't survive ... he doesn't know if he'll be able to live there.

An hour later, he is in the gallery above Jo's operating room. They had tried to stop him, but nothing could be done. They couldn't keep him away.

He was watching intently, but then decided to turn on the intercom. "How is her?" he asks. "Karev, what the heck are you doing up there?" Bailey asks, without looking up at her. "Bailey, come on, how is Jo?" he asks more and more impatient. She sighs, looking at Jackson across the table. "All in all, better than we expected. But, Alex, we don't have to rush. The drugs are working, but the infection is still there." Alex nods, sitting down on one of the chairs behind him.

Ten minutes later, they are ready to shut down when the monitors start ringing. Alex leaps to her feet, almost shouting over the intercom. "What is happening?!" "Heart rate is dropping!" Avery yells. Soon after, the heart rate monitor line flattens out. "Start compressions!" "Prepare the plates!" Bailey stops with the compressions, but there is no heartbeat. "Nothing, load at 200!" she says, placing the plates on Jo's chest. "Clear!" she shakes her head when there is no result. Avery resumes compressions as they prepare the plates again. "Ok, load up to 250! Clear!" they are all looking at the monitor, which continues to mark the flat line.

Then suddenly the frequency increases and the heartbeat resumes. Alex runs a hand over his forehead, leaning against the glass. Everyone in the room sighs with relief. "Well, now let's close ...! And, Jo, don't play tricks like that anymore ..." Bailey sighs, taking the thread from the nurse.

Once again, Alex puts on her gloves, mask and scrub before entering Jo's room. Even if he was improving, they shouldn't let their guard down, because at this moment it would take little to make the situation degenerate.

He stops in her doorway, watching her. She looks different to him. She is different from the energetic and perky Jo he was used to. She was ... different. Paler than usual. She seemed more worn out than a few days ago. "Hey ..." he is shaken by her thoughts from her submissive voice. He looks at her, a faint smile gracing her face. He smiles back at her, moving closer to her. "Hey ... how are you feeling?" he asks cautiously. "I've been better ..." she says in a faint voice. He gives her her usual crooked smile, even though he's not sure she can see it through the mask. He places his hand on her cheek, gently stroking her with her thumb, looking at her softly.

"How did the surgery go ...?" she asks. He sighs, trying to stay optimistic. "Well ... it went well ... you are healing, it will take some time, but you will be fine ...!" he reassures her. She looks him directly into her eyes, sighing. "You can't tell ..." "Oh, I do ...!" she frowns "Alex, you know I may not make it ... I may have been fine before I was seriously ill ... what are the chances that I will fully recover ...? We are doctors, you know it could happen ..." " Jo- "" Alex, "she says, taking his hand with what little energy she has left. "Please ... don't have too many illusions that I'll make it ... I don't want you to feel bad for me ... you can go if you want, I'll understand ..." "Shut up ...!" he says bluntly, taking them back to that night in the storm. "I'm not leaving you, for nothing in the world, okay? I don't want to leave to never see you again. I don't want to be without you ...! I don't want to live without you ...! I won't go away. And I know that you won't either ...! You won't die, you'll be fine because I need you! I don't want a wife, I don't want children, I don't want a house with a white fence without you! I don't want to give up on you. You are all I need. You will be fine, you will live, okay? Because I don't want to wake up in the morning without you by my side. I don't want to see movies sitting on our sofa without you next to me. I want to try to put together a dinner without you laughing. I don't want to have children if you're not by my side. I don't want to have a wife if this isn't you. I don't need anything, just you Jo! " he says, wiping the tears from her face as she leans into her touch. "I was wrong, Jo. I shouldn't have cared. I shouldn't have given you an ultimatum. I shouldn't have left, but I should have listened to you. And I know you don't want me to blame, but all of this ... I feel it's my fault .. . I shouldn't have left you, and I swear to God, I will never, never again. Because you are worth everything and more Jo, really. That night I was serious. To me you are everything. I love you, Jo. And I don't have I need marriage, I don't want it. I want you. And if you want the same ... well, then you don't need to be married, just be together. After all, that's marriage, isn't it? 'each other for life. For better or for worse. Health and disease. Forever. I promise you, Jo. Forever. I will not leave you. " she giggles in tears, putting all her strength together and placing a hand on her cheek, looking into her eyes and nodding. "If ... if this is marriage ... that's what I want ...!" their submissive laughter mirrors as Alex presses his forehead against hers. "I really wish I could kiss you right now ..." she whispers to him. He chuckles at her, stroking her cheek. "Rest now ... I'll be here when you wake up," she says. "Do you promise?" "I promise," she assures her. When she thinks she is asleep, she whispers "I love you too Alex".

In the end ... after dark the light goes back to spending. After the night the sun will rise again. The bad times ... well, those will always be there, but they last forever.

[deoovat]

More knuxadow headcanons please, those were great and made me smile so thank you, but more now because they deserve more spotlight. Never enough for those boys!

aww I’m so happy they made you smile! ♡ ♡ 

I agree they do deserve more spotlight. ALLOFIT But okok here’s some more >:} 

-> Knuckles is very prone to very horrific night terrors which is why he actually doesn’t sleep all too much. They abuse his shattered and blurry memories of his past and blends them with his worst fears. So tired of waking up in a panic and terrified state he taught himself how to work and fight through his fatigue so much that his body is now used to working without much rest. It’s not healthy but the energy from the Master Emerald helps keep him alert and strong. It wasn’t until he slept with Shadow, them being nestled together that Knuckles truly got a good night of sleep without his dreams turning into something violent.

-> Knuckles can go for days even weeks without a blink of rest and usually, Shadow can tell. Shadow makes it his responsibility to make sure the first thing Knuckles does when he sees him after a long period of time is sleep. 

->When Knuckles does finally sleep, it sometimes lasts for a day or two. Shadow doesn’t mind this too much. It actually makes him feel very good that Knuckles trusts him so much that he can nudge away those nightmares just by being there with him; and if he does have them, being there to talk it out with the echidna is all the more rewarding. 

-> Knuckles gets a much more normal sleeping pattern once he starts dating Shadow and it improves his moods quite a bit actually. 

-> Shadow is not one to do things based on pure curiosity alone, but being with Knuckles has changed that for him. Knuckles is someone he finds himself constantly curious about, even after they’ve settled down into their relationship for a while. It’s a curiosity that he thinks can never be rid of. 

-> Knuckles really enjoys going to the markets on the surface and taking Shadow with him if he can. Not the normal kind where there’s currency exchange. Since he doesn’t have any physical money of his own he often bargains with his own supply of bizarre fruit and vegetables that only grow on his island in exchange for things like, seeds, crazy fruit he’s never seen before, bowls and etc. His island soil is great for growing plants and food so seeing what he can bring back to plant on the island is fun for him. Shadow finds it amusing to see Knuckles bargaining with other people sometimes heatedly when the echidna thinks he’s being duped. 

-> If Shadow wants to take Knuckles on a date, all he has to do is take him to a marketplace. And if he wants to get the echidna a gift, all he has to do is go there himself.

-> Since he loves growing things Shadow gifted Knuckles with bamboo seeds once, which challenged Knuckles green thumb. It took a while for him to figure out how much attention these seeds needed to grow successfully but when he figured it out, he was ecstatic with his victory. Though... since everything on the island tends to grow at an exponential rate well... you can guess what had happened. On the bright side, due to it growing so fast and being so much of it, Knuckles was able to build a bamboo hut for himself and his boyfriend. 

-> Shadow has a little corner in there where Knuckles stacks books he picks up from his ventures to the marketplace for his boyfriend... Shadow doesn’t have the heart to tell him that 60% of them are in languages he can’t read.  

-> Knuckles hands are badly scarred from fighting with his fists all his life. He didn’t always have the gloves that he wears now. The echidna isn’t ashamed of his hands but when Shadow first saw them without the gloves, he couldn’t help but be a little nervous. Shadow, of course, has nothing but respect for the echidna and traced every scar littered across his hands, with somewhat of an impressed grin on his face. Knuckles was relieved. 

-> After getting together and dating these two actually don’t argue much if at all. Shadow has his own reserved nature to him that compliments Knuckles reserved nature just as well. They know what buttons not to push, what buttons to push, and often agree with each other on a lot of different topics. Especially Sonic. They do have silly spats every now and again, however, more of a playful argument than an actual one. 

-> When it comes to the M.E however and Knuckles' undying loyalty to it, that’s a whole different story. Those arguments are heated, with a capital H. 

-> Once coming out to their friends that they are dating Shadow is absolutely shameless. Not as in he likes embarrassing Knuckles at every chance he gets but more on the lines of, he is not secretive about his affection for the echidna like at all. Shadow has popped up in the middle or end of a battle that doesn’t concern him, numerous times without a hello, how are you, none of that. Just grab Knuckles and then Chaos Control them right out, leaving the rest of Sonic team stupefied. Knuckles finds this stupid and hilariously annoying. 

-> Knuckles now can sense when his brat of a boyfriend is coming. So now before the hedgehog even gets a word out his mouth after phasing into physicality, Knuckles will grab his arm and throw him before he can even think about it. 

-> Shadow likes Knuckles teeth. He doesn’t know how someone with a diet of vegetables and fruit has such sharp teeth but he isn’t complaining. It’s one of the reasons why he finds Knuckles grins so dangerously attractive. 

-> Knuckles will never say it out loud because he’d probably die of embarrassment, but he thinks Shadow is really fuckin handsome and it’s sometimes literally painful for Knuckles to look at him. Like seriously, why are his eyes so pretty. The fuck- 

-> Knuckles loves the rainy seasons while Shadow prefers the hotter seasons. For... reasons. Totally not to gawk at his boyfriend underneath the hot sun.

-> Knuckles can handcraft weapons and instruments out of wood and clay and has crafted his own Drone Flute that he sometimes plays for the animals on his island or when his mind is too erratic to focus on meditation. Never for anyone else though... until Shadow came along. Shadow finds himself the most allured and taken aback by his boyfriend when he’s in these states of rest and stillness. The sound of the instrument along with his boyfriends' strangely calm presence in these moments can lull even him to a state of restfulness. 

-> Their favorite activity to do together, besides sparring, is swimming and mountain climbing. Knuckles knows his island from front to back but it doesn’t take away the fun of ‘getting lost’ in it every now and again. Getting to do these things off the island though, makes Knuckles even more thrilled. 

-> Knuckles can read ancient languages including his own along with Babloynian but he struggles reading the modern alphabet. While he has no problem speaking it, reading and writing is a whole different ball game. However, he is a fast learner and can recognize the words of things if they’re ones he’s seen before or has been explained to him. He hides these facts however because he doesn’t want to be dismissed as stupid. Shadow however catches on. He never tells Knuckles though. He feels it should be something the echidna tells him on his own terms. So instead, Shadow chooses just to be helpful in his own way. Reading things aloud when it’s handed to Knuckles and disguising it as him being nosy. Or having a food stall owner list off the Vegetarian options aloud instead of having Knuckles try to read it.  

ok it’s getting too long, I had to scroll more than twice to read it all, so WEGON STOP HERE (۶* ‘ꆚ’)۶”

[suwya]

Till the Stars Had Run Away - Chapter 2

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Summary:  Killian Jones was a voyager. Actually, he was many things, or at least he had been - a lieutenant, a brother, a loving boyfriend - until everything had turned upside down and his life had hit an all time low. So, he gave up. Aboard his spaceship he abandoned Arcadia, his planet, navigating the stars and other solar systems in search of... well, he still didn't know what he was searching for, but his rule was "never remain in the same place longer than necessary."

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Rating: M

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Prologue; Chapter 1,

AO3

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A/N: Thank you @thisonesatellite​ for being the best beta I could ever ask for. And thank to all of you who are reading this.

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Chapter 2.

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There are no strangers here;

Only friends you haven’t yet met.

(W. B. Yeats)

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In the past three weeks, Killian had had no news of Henry or his mother. He knew he should concentrate on something else: whatever was happening in their lives was none of his business. But he hadn't been able to let go of the memory of their last encounter. What if the lad was right and Emma was in danger? She didn't look like the successful Princess of a remote planet anymore, and maybe her life wasn't any fairytale. But what could he do? And above all, was it really his problem?

Tonight was a fillglow night. Killian was waiting for Robin and Roland to join him and watch the match together on his big projecting screen. He and Robin had been long fans of this sport, and Roland took the same passion from them. 

Killian had already prepared some bowls of multicolored pop grains. The only kind of grains that could grow on this desert planet, and they didn’t need to be rehydrated to be eaten. Luckily Roland loved them, especially the cones and star-shaped ones. The boy and his father were supposed to bring the drinks, which consisted mainly of berry juices. It was the most similar to a family routine they had, every fortnight a match was broadcast and Killian enjoyed the time together with his buddies.

Fillglow was a very popular sport in many galaxies, there was even a Multiverse Championship. Roland would have given anything to get tickets for the FMC finale, he had never watched a match live, none of them had. Tonight’s match was a local one, not pivotal, but it didn't matter, it was a good excuse for Killian to spend some time with his adopted family. 

But the thoughts of the late events had distracted him, and he didn’t realize what time was. The projector was already on and the match was about to start. A knock on the door startled him. He hurried up to open with a big grin, “you're late, mates!” Two puzzled pairs of eyes were staring at him, but they weren't Roland’s nor Robin’s.

“This is a terrible idea.” Emma sighed while Henry enthusiastically exclaimed, “Killian, you're home, great!”

Killian was a bit taken aback by the unexpected visit and he didn't know how to react. Before he could say anything Emma went on, “I'm so sorry, we shouldn't have come.” 

She was already turning away when Killian stopped her with a gentle touch on her arm. “Well, now that you're here, why don't you come in?” 

Emma reluctantly entered the house followed by her delighted son, but when Killian was about to close the door, a shoe between it and the frame stopped him. “It’s bad form to close the door on someone’s face, mate!” Robin appeared in Killian’s sight, mocking his friend imitating his way of speech. “I didn't know you were having guests.” The surprise on Robin’s face was apparent as soon as he spied the other people inside Killian’s living room.

“Uh…” Killian was a bit lost for words and he lifted a hand to scratch a spot behind his right ear, a habit he had when feeling uncomfortable. “Robin, this is Emma Swan; Emma, meet my best friend Robin of Locksley.” 

Roland ran inside the house. “Hi!” he exclaimed with a big dimpled grin.

“...and this is Robin’s lad, Roland,” Killian added.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Henry, Killian’s son.” Henry extended a hand to shake with the other boy.

Killian sighed and shook slightly his head towards a baffled Robin, who was staring at him with wide-open eyes. He hoped that his friend wouldn’t ask. “Why don't we all get comfortable?” He suggested and then turned to his guests, “we were about to watch the fillglow match. We would be happy if you join us.”

Robin took a seat at one end of the couch, Killian was in the middle and Emma took the other end, leaving as much distance between them as possible. She was wearing a beige blouse with metallic colored sleeves, and a loose keen-short matching skirt, with long light brown leather boots. At first glance, it might seem like a casual choice of clothing, but the ensemble was in harmony. Killian would take a peek at her from time to time while she wasn't looking, and it struck him how beautiful she was.

Roland and Henry sat together on the double footstool in the middle of the room, with a big pop grains bowl in the middle. “What's your favorite fillglow team?” Roland asked.

“I'm not really into it,” was Henry’s answer.

Roland was surprised. “You do know the rules, don’t you?”

“I’ve never been a big fan of sports in general.”

Killian decided to help the boy and started explaining, “Well, it’s quite simple. Two teams, six players each. The goal is to score into the other team’s round target until it lights up.”

“What’s difficult is that they play in no gravitational environment. So they are a bit limited in their movements. Plus their suits are heavier than they seem.” Robin added.

“You have to block opponents using a laser stick, but you can’t hit the adversary wherever you like - you’re allowed to hit only certain spots of the other’s suit.” Killian went on, “when you touch someone with your stick on one of those spots, this person gets paralyzed for a few seconds. The more difficult the place you hit, the more time your opponent stays immobile. The belly usually gives you the most time stuck.”

“But if you touch someone where you’re not allowed to, you get stuck for six seconds,” Robin added. 

“If you get to touch the other team’s target with your stick, it will start glowing, but you are not allowed to score again before other players touch it,” said Killian. “You need 27 scores to make the target glow completely, or better said, to fillglow it. And that’s when the match ends.”  

“You may think it’s easy, but it’s not,” Roland said excitedly. “You know, I went to a fillglow stadium once with daddy and uncle Kil. I could enter the field, but with the heavy suit it took me almost 20 minutes to reach the other team’s target, and I was alone, with no opponents to block me. It’s strange because you’re floating in the air, so you can’t walk. It’s almost like swimming, but more difficult.”

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~·~·~·~

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After the fourteenth point of the opposite team, the commercials started and Killian took a handful of pop grains from the main bowl near the kids.

“Why are you always wearing a glove on your left hand?” Henry asked.

“Uncle Kil has got a bionic hand,” Roland explained.

“Can I see it?” Asked Henry with curiosity.

“Henry!” Emma scolded, but Killian dismissed it with a wave of his right hand. “It's alright,” he said and removed the glove to reveal a transparent synthetic hand full of cables inside.

“Cool!” Henry exclaimed. “Did you make it?”

“No, lad. I bought it.”

“But he changed it way better,” Roland added.

Killian chuckled, “I just improved it to achieve some more movement.”

  “Now it's almost the same as a real hand.” Roland was clearly proud of his uncle’s job with the prosthesis.

  Henry put his hand on it. “Do you feel it?”

“I'm sorry, I can't,” was Killian’s gentle answer, and when Henry retracted his hand a bit disappointed, he went on, “but I can do this.” He took a big star-shaped pop grain and showed it to Henry with his bionic hand, then he closed it into a fist and turned it upside down; when he opened it again the grain had disappeared. 

“Wow!” The kid was impressed. “Would you teach me to do it?”

Killian put the glove on the hand again. “Maybe, someday.”

When the boy asked, “why do you keep it covered?” his mother coughed to draw his attention and stared at him with a reproaching look. But Henry didn’t relent. “Mom, don't you think it's impressive?” He asked enthusiastically.

Killian smiled at Emma, trying to relieve her clear embarrassment. “Indeed it is, yes,” she sheepishly smiled back at him.

Henry asked, “How did you lose your hand?” Emma sighed but before she could scold her son again for making so many private questions, Killian said, "Well that, lad, is a story for another night." 

“Killian is right.” Robin stepped in. “It's time to go to bed, Roland.”

“Oh no!” The little kid complained. “The match is not over yet.”

“And you know perfectly well that it can go on for ages because it doesn’t have a time limit,” his father reasoned.

Roland looked up at him with big pleading eyes. “Can I at least show Henry my room before going to sleep?”

Robin sighed but gave in. “Ok. But don't be long.”

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~·~·~·~

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Emma looked concerned when the boys disappeared out the front door. “No need to worry,” Killian said. “Robin lives just next door.”

“How did you two come to know each other?” Robin asked while the three of them were moving to sit at the table, and Killian was handing them some cups filled with a liquid a bit stronger than berry juice.

“Uh… we met many years ago.” 

Killian exchanged a questioning glance with Emma. He didn’t know how much of their story she was willing to share. But apparently, the silent communication didn’t go unnoticed to Robin, who, clearly remembering where he had already heard her name, asked Killian, “Is she the Emma?” But then he immediately turned towards the woman, “I beg your pardon.” He said apologetically. “I’m not used to being in front of a Princess.”

“Please, don’t call me that, especially not in front of my son. He doesn’t know the whole story.”

Robin nodded. “I had that impression. And I’m confident he is not actually Killian’s son, right?”

Killian half-smiled at his friend in assent, then he turned to Emma, “Henry seems to be a clever lad. How long do you think you can hide his past?”

Emma sighed. “I hate keeping things from him, but it’s safer this way.”

“Is he right?” Killian insisted. “Is there truly someone that could represent a danger for both of you?”

She didn’t reply, she lowered her stare and fixed it into a specific spot on the table. “Not an immediate danger, no. But maybe in the future... yes. That man that Henry thinks I’m afraid of, he’s my contact; maybe not the sweetest person in the galaxy, but he’s reliable. He told me there will be raids soon in my neighborhood. That’s why we came here tonight. I hoped you could give us some advice. You’re a trader, aren't you? You should know a lot of people, maybe, influential people.”

“Does anybody know you are here?” Killian inquired.

“I didn’t choose my job by coincidence. If I'm good at finding hidden people, it means I know exactly what to do when I don’t want to be found.”

“Who’s after you?” Killian went straight to the point.

Emma seemed to ponder the question for a few seconds, then said, “not me, Henry.” After a small pause, she went on, “the King and Queen of New-Tolemac are still in need of an heir.” 

“Do you think your parents will harm the boy?” He asked inquisitively. 

“They are not my parents.” Killian and Robin shared a surprised look, but Emma kept her gaze fixed in her cup; she didn't seem inclined in giving more details, and Killian knew it was neither the time nor the place to pry. But then she added in a whisper “...I can’t lose Henry. He’s all I have.”

Killian studied the woman in front of him, there was no trace of the pompous arrogance he saw in her when they first met. She was now a mother, a tough one, fighting her demons for his son’s sake. 

“I have to go away for a few weeks, I have a commercial trade to make for a client. Why don’t you and your boy come with me? I’m not going very far, and maybe you can consider it as a holiday. What do you say?” He suggested. 

“Henry would love it, he’s never been on a spaceship.” She smiled to herself, her gaze lost in thought, then she lifted her eyes to find Killian’s “Thank you,” she said serious, “but I can't answer right now. I'll think about it.”

“Ok, guys, while I enjoy the company, I have to put Roland to sleep.” Robin stood up and took his cup to the little sink in the corner.

“Yeah, sure, I’ve already taken up so much of your time.” Emma stood up as well and started moving towards the door.

“Stay. Just for the night... or more.” Killian was stammering, but at Emma’s bewildered look, he scratched behind his ear for the second time that night, a bright red colored his cheeks “...I… I didn’t mean…” 

“What my friend is so awkwardly trying to say,” Robin explained, “is that it’s already late, and it could be dangerous for you and your son to go back to your place by yourselves, especially if those rumors of raids are true. If you want, Henry could sleep with Roland, you could stay in my room and I will crash on Killian’s couch. You won't hear any complaints from us.” 

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~·~·~·~

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The Jolly Roger wasn't the biggest spaceship in the multiverse, but it was big enough to host a small crew and a little cargo.

In the middle of the main entrance, there was a round table with four chairs, everything well secured to the floor. A lot of lockers filled up the walls and a counter opposite the gate served as a kitchen, with a microwave, a little fridge, and a sink.

A big electric sliding door on the right, usually open, led to the main cabin. A semi-oval room mainly occupied by the control dashboard full of buttons, LEDs, and levers, two comfortable leather armchairs in front of it, and walls as well rich of small lockers when not occupied by the big curved window.

On the other side of the entrance, opposite the control cabin, there were a couple of automatic doors. One of them led to the passengers’ cabins, each one with bunk beds, a small desk, and more lockers on the walls. The other door led to a hallway and a little but all equipped restroom. 

In the hallway, a metal spiral staircase led to the under part of the ship, which consisted mostly of the engine room and a storage room with its own gate used for loading the cargo.

Killian was sitting in front of the control dashboard, checking the air pressure inside the cabin, and verifying that all the levels were stable. 

The last four days had been different, with Emma and Henry at Robin’s house, the routine had been turned a bit upside down. They had decided that going back to their house wasn’t safe. Henry had been occupied with school and homework most of the time and he had spent the rest of it with Roland; the two of them had connected quite well, despite the age gap. 

Emma had been concentrated on her job, and although Killian would have liked to give her a hand whenever he could, she hadn’t even let him help her when she brought some of hers and Henry’s belongings from home to her new lodging. 

Dinners together had been sometimes awkward, and Killian had had the feeling that she was trying to avoid him. That’s why he had been surprised when she abruptly accepted to go with him on his next trip.

And now he was sitting in his spaceship cabin waiting for her and her son to come. Everything was ready for takeoff and the engine was already roaring. A red LED on the dashboard started to blink and a cold metallic voice was heard through the cabin. 

I detect intruders on this ship.

Killian smiled. “They are not intruders. They are guests, so be gentle.”

Emma entered the cabin carrying a small suitcase. “Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.” She said looking around, but when she didn’t find what she was looking for, she added “Uh… I thought I heard voices. To whom were you talking?”

Killian stood up from his seat “Where are my manners? Emma Swan, let me introduce you to the Jolly Roger.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “The Jolly Roger. Seriously?”

“What can I say? I have a soft spot for pirates.” He smiled.

The metallic voice spoke: It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Swan. 

“Your ship speaks!” Emma was astonished.

“Indeed she does. She's a marvel.” He explained with a big grin.

A sound like a soft metallic cough could be heard, and Killian couldn't help giggling.

“Well... then, nice to meet you, too.” She said to the air, and then looking at Killian again: “Where can I put our bags?”

“Right. I'll show you your cabin and the rest of this place.” He said, and then with an overdramatic bow and a wink added: “Consider yourself at home.”

Emma rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile.

Another soft cough could be heard.

“Are you sure your ship is fine?” She asked, perplexed. “It sounds a bit congested.”

“Don't worry about her, she can be a bit of an arse with strangers. But give her some time and she will grow fond of you.” At those words, the red LED suddenly stopped blinking and went off. Killian shook his head and chuckled.

As soon as he was sure that Emma and Henry were well settled in their cabin, Killian came back to the controls and took off. When the ship was out of Althea-Seals’ atmosphere he sighed in relief because everything had gone as planned, but he knew that he couldn’t relax until he’d reached a certain distance.

The red LED started blinking again. Would you do me the favor and stop referring to me as a female?

“You're a spaceship,” Killian answered the voice.

Exactly my point. And you and I both know I'm not only that.

[themostawesomehuman]

Bittersweet love [with Lily Chen as requested by @friendlyneighbourhoodreader @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane ]

Stop if you haven’t read the first three parts!

SORRY IF THIS IS NOT GREAT AND TOOK SO LONG! TELL ME HOW TO IMPROVE

Here’s the link for part 3 (there you will find part 1 and 2 as well)

Ok so the name Ravenna is acc the name of one of Wilde’s poems so yeee

Tagging: @lily-chen-deserves-better @friendlyneighbourhoodreader @zafirafox4636 @insane---chaos @brotherlipsmackariahs @daisyherxndale @immyownghostwriter @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @ineedadrinkorsleep @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @raccoon-dog-from-mercury @simon-lewis-is-a-skinny-legend @matthewfaichild @fieryfantasybooklover @tessagraycarstairs @fairchild-squad @fairchild-blackthorn @brotherlipsmackariahs @banesbitch @cecilyfightwood @bridgestocksariadne @alyssaswords @morgnstern

—————————————————————————————————————————

Hell Ruelle was pure magic. Well decorated in red and green, blue and gold. Bronze-painted corridor. Extravagant paintings. Chatter and laughter from every single direction. Sweet melodic music from the cherrywood stage filled the room.

As soon as they entered Matthew left to greet his acquaintances; a woman dressed in a fine tailored suit with raven black hair slicked back and striking blue eyes. The well known beautiful heartbreaker: Anna Lightwood. Ravenna was exactly surprised that Matthew knew Anna Lightwood personally. As rumors went they were seen roaming the dark streets of London together regularly. The two bohemian shadowhunters of London.

Next to Anna Lightwood, another girl dressed in red silk holding a golden tray of champagne. She tipped her head back as she laughed and resting it on Matthew’s shoulder comfortably. She was absolutely stunning, her dark straight hair down to her waist contrasted with her pale porcelain skin and the rich crimson of her dress. No doubt, this was the vampire Matthew wanted her to meet: Lily Chen. After a few exchange of loud whispers between the three of them, Lily looked over with an easy grin as Anna gave her a warm gentle smile as she moves to create space indicating that they wanted her to join in.

As she approached them, Lily abandoned the tray on a nearby table and grabbed her hands. “ I’m Lily Chen!” Lily’s hands were at the same temperature as hers. Cold. Dead. Beautiful nonetheless. Lily’s long slim fingers wraped around hers’s and she felt a sense of comfort. Since she turned a lot of people treated her differently. Vampires are not the most trusted downworlders to be touched.

“ I-um I’m Ravenna,” she stuttered. Lily’s smile was so bright and lively-maybe lively wasn’t the appropriate word but it was warm.

“A pretty name for a pretty young lady,” Anna nodded approvingly and held her hand out for Ravenna to take it, “Matthew, told me to introduce you to a few people. If you’ll allow me”.

Shyly she took Anna’s gloved hands as she was lead into a new handsome group of Downworlders leaving Matthew and Lily alone.

“Look at her,” Matthew whispered as he glanced towards the group of vampires, down the content of his glass in one big gulp as he reached for another.

“She had so much to live for and she threw it all away because of me. She can’t ever go out in the sun or enjoy a nice picnic. I destroyed her.”

Matthew gazed at Ravenna through the rim of his champagne glass, his eyes glittering. 

He downed his drink and placed the empty glass back on the round table, “tell her I’m sorry? I’m truly sorry for making her like this.”

“I will”, Lily rolled her eyes sarcastically, “but for the record? You didn’t destroy her. You’re not that powerful. She can make her own decisions. This was her choice”.

As Lily turned to leave, she looked at Matthew dead in eyes, “oh and one more thing, if you dare to say anything like that again I shall beat you to death with this tray” as Lily gestured at the tray on the table, Matthew put up both his hands in surrender. Lily flounced off in a swirl of red silk to join Anna and Ravenna, gaving Matthew one last deadly glare.

‘Maybe she’ll be alright,’ Matthew thought before he followed Lily into the crowd.

[emikochan]

Nordic 5 with the s/o wanting to learn their language but with a slight twist, the s/o wanting to try and learn their language but they fear they won’t be able or good enough to if that makes sense.

I'm so hyped for this. Thanks for the request, Cat-chan!🌸

~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~

Norway:

"You can do this, (y/n)."

"Hell no, Lukas. I'll make a fool out of myself"

You crossed your arms in front of your chest in a protective manner. Today, the market place seemed to be louder than ever before. It seemed to be buzzing with life and it was loud. What if the old man at the candy stall couldn't hear you and you had to repeat yourself awkwardly? What if he understood the wrong thing and accidently had you insulting his mother or something like that? The risk of messing up was just too damn high.

"Just go for it"

"No!" Cold fingers suddenly entangled with yours and you looked up to see him right by your side, looking down at you.

"We'll go together. If you mess up, I'm right there to correct it. You don't have to be afraid."

With a gulp you snuggled a bit closer to Lukas' side and you two approached the friendly old man, that welcomed you two with a warm smile.

"Hei"

"Hei" your eyes scanned the cute wooden boxes that were filled with sweets. They finally locked with the cute fish shaped candy that Lukas adored so much.

"Unnskyld, hvor mye koster det?" ( Sorry, how much does it cost?)

"20 stk koster 5 kroner" he replied and you felt Lukas' hand squeeze yours as an encouragement to go on.

"Det vil jeg gjerne" ( I'd like to have that) you felt a bit of sweat form on your forehead as you flashed him an unsure smile.

The old man nodded and packed your candy in a cute bag before handing it over to you. You gave the good man his money, bid him farewell and took a deep breath as you two went on your way.

"You did well, elskede." Lukas' lips had the softest tug of a smile at their corners and you felt your heart soar, a triumphant smile coming around your lips as well.

~~~~~

Denmark:

His lips covered your neck in thousand kisses. His breath sent shivers down your spine every few seconds and his soft touches left you yearning for more.

"Jeg elsker deg, (y/n)" he whispered and your clouded mind contemplated on wether you should say it or not.

Mikkel went on to whisper way more intimate things, that usually didn't show that much of an effect on you, since you couldn't understand a word. Today you blushed a bright red though.

Struck by surprise your eyes widened slightly. You actually understood some bits and pieces of the dirty things he growled. During the last few weeks you wondered if your lessons even had any effect on you but it's good to know that all of your efforts weren't in vain.

Maybe you weren't doing as bad as you thought you did?

Having enough of him being so cocky, you placed both hands on his shoulders and flipped him onto the bed with you on top of him.

"Hvad siger du, skat?" (What are you saying, darling?" you asked with a smirk and had the confident Dane under you with his eyes wide as little plates and an open mouth staring up at you in awe.

Mikkel didn't let you leave the bed that night and continues to beg you to speak more Danish even weeks after that.

~~~~

Sweden:

You actually caught him by surprise when he talked to his boss on the phone. He was so occupied with his thoughts that he accidently talked to you in Swedish.

You just finished your lessons for that day and were just as occupied with your thoughts as he was, so you replied in Swedish without even noticing it first. It took Berwald a few seconds after hanging up until he truly realized it.

"(y/n)? I didn't know you picked up so much Swedish." You blinked until the realization hit you too.

"Oh... well... it wasn't that good. I'm suprised you actually understood me." you started while fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

"No, you almost sounded like a native. You're doing very well." he simply stated.

A straightforward man that states the blunt truth. That's why you loved him and his compliment made you smile brightly.

"Tak för det" (Thank you for that)

~~~~

Finland:

What on earth have you done to yourself.

Your hands were clasped over your head, smoke seemed to come out of your ears and your tired eyes could barely focus on the sheer endless lines of words and phrases that literally never.found.an.end anymore.

You were literally "Vapisee kuin haavan lehti" – which is something like "To tremble like the leaf of an aspen tree" or something around that gist- God you don't even know anymore.

"Rakas, are you finished with that project of yours?" A certain Finnish man peeked behind the opening door and found your exhausted body slumped over the desk with big tears swelling up in your eyes and his smile instantly fell. He came rushing to you in an instant

"Oh Hani, what's wrong? Did...did the project go so bad?"

You couldn't answer as you began to sob uncontrollably, the deep feeling of disappointment rising up in you since you totally failed to learn Finnish. Even the basics were too difficult to keep inside that damn head of yours and it just frustrated you to no end.

His hand was quick to rub your back in a comforting manner, while his other hand quickly ripped out a tissue from your desk's tissue box. His eyes fell on the several pieces of paper that lay spread all across the wooden surface. He instantly recognized it as his mother tongue and his eyes widened in astonishment as he noticed your handwriting, that apparently wrote all of those texts and notes down.

"Finnish?" he asked and picked one of the sheets up to examine it closer.

"Puhutko suomea?" ( Do you speak Finnish?) he asked you softly and you simply shook your head.

"I tried, ok. I tried but I just don't get it, it's just too much."

He frowned but it was directed to himself, not you. He nodded and pressed a kiss on your head as he continued to skip through the papers that you finished during the last hours.

"Rakas, you don't have to do this for me. I know how hard my language is, you don't-"

"But it wouldn't be fair! You learnt English and it would be just to at least try and learn your language too!" you exclaimed and he was taken aback for a second before smiling softly.

"Calm, sweetie, calm. How about we take a break today? Let's do a fun trip tomorrow and learn some easier vocabs than this."

That sounded good enough for you to finally calm down, go downstairs to sit on the couch with him and sob your heart out on Tinos shoulder. You confessed your frustration, hate and insecurity towards this new challenge and Tino listened and responded with nothing but reasurance, compassion and love all night long. He'll help you, don't worry.

~~~~~

Iceland:

Gosh, that dude started getting on your nerves. He was really testing your patience with his endless pestering and horrible pick-up lines in broken English that just made you cringe.

You just wanted to wait for Emil to come back from the bathroom so that you two could finally go the rollercoaster but this random guy just wouldn't leave you alone. His English was so bad that he didn't understand your rejection completely and just went on with his pestering, so you had nothing to lose, right?

You had enough.

"Ég er giftur! Drullaðu þér í burtu!" ( I am married! Shit yourself away/Beat it!) you hissed and the stranger took a few steps back before throwing his hands up in the air and finally disappearing.

You huffed and hoped he got the message, Emil most certainly heard it.

"What got you so worked up?"

You turned around in shock and instantly felt shame coming up in you as you locked eyes with the familiar pair of violet orbs. You wanted to improve your icelandic in secret and eventually surprise your beloved boyfriend by saying something nice to him and now the first things he ever heard you say in his native tongue were horrible swear words.

You sunk your head in shame.

"You know, we're not married...yet. But I liked that part very much" he said while placing his gloved hand on your chin to make you look at him.

"I'm sorry. I...wanted it to be perfect when I talk to you" you confessed with sadness still lacing your beautiful voice.

"Sounded perfect enough. Now let's go" Emil wrapped his arm around your waist and gently guided you away from the bathroom stalls.

He's really, really proud of you; don't think he didn't mean what he said simply because he kept the same expression the entire time.

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Flufftober day 25: compromise

Radio games (AO3 link)

Teenage Seb enters a competition on the radio

A/N: Another it’s there if you squint take on the day’s prompt!

-----------

“Dad, can I go to Isaac’s now? I’ll do my homework tonight.”

Aaron gave his son an incredulous look.

“Are you for real? Did you hear nothing that was said in that meeting just now?”

“Of course I did, that’s why I said I’d do my homework tonight.” Seb reasoned.

Aaron shook his head and unlocked the portacabin.

“Short answer: no. Long answer: hell no.”

Seb rolled his eyes.

“I promise I’ll do it tonight. I’ll even come downstairs to do it.”

“And watch tv with us all night? I don’t think so.” Aaron cleared his desk and pulled out his chair. “Sit.”

Seb sighed but did as he was told.

“You’re going to sit here where I can keep an eye on you, and do your homework. And when you’re done, we’ll go over it together.”

They’d just come back from a meeting with Seb’s teacher, who was worried there might be problems at home. He’d told Aaron Seb had been distracted a lot lately and his grades were dropping to a point where he might have to repeat the year if they didn’t improve.

It had all come as a shock to Aaron, who wished Robert had been by his side to insist they weren’t bad parents for not noticing, but of course he had to be down in London until the end of the week for work, leaving Aaron to deal with all three of their kids on his own.

Thankfully the twins were hanging out with Eve, so that was one (or two) less thing to worry about.

“We can get you a tutor if you don’t understand the material.” Aaron suggested as he sat down at Robert’s desk. “There’s no shame in asking for help, you know.”

“I know.” Seb told him. “But I don’t need help.”

“Your grades say you do, mate.”

Seb rolled his eyes again and reluctantly started taking his books out of his bag.

“I’m just bored with it. It’s all pointless anyway. When am I ever going to use any of this?” he dropped his maths book on the desk. “Do you use it?”

“Me? No, not really. But lots of other people do.”

“Like who?”

“Like your auntie Vic. When she has to adjust recipes and she has to calculate how much more or less of the ingredients she needs.” Aaron told him. “Or Vanessa and Jamie when they need to figure out how much of a certain medicine an animal needs.”

“But I’m not going to be a chef or a vet, so why do I need it?”

“Because the school says so. Because the government says so. Because you’ll have to repeat the year if you don’t. And then you won’t be in the same class as your mates anymore, is that what you want?”

“No…”

“Then get to it.” Aaron tapped Seb’s maths book. “The sooner you get started on it, the sooner you’ll be done and you can go see your mates.” He got up. “Do you want a cup of tea?”

“Sure.” Seb sighed, flicking through his book to find the right page.

“With the fancy chocolate biscuits your dad thinks I don’t know about?” Aaron grinned, opening the bottom drawer of Robert’s desk and pulling out a packet of biscuits.

Seb grinned back.

“Can I have two?”

“Yeah, why not. He’ll just think he ate them all and buy new ones.” Aaron laughed and went to make their tea.

His dad seemed to be in a good mood so Seb decided to push his luck.

“Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I turn the radio on?” he asked. “Just so it’ll be less boring while I work. And there’s a competition on. Maybe I’ll win.”

“Ok, fine. But you actually do your homework, yeah? Don’t just listen to the radio. Because if your grades don’t improve, I don’t care what you win tickets for, Isaac will have to go alone.”

“I’ll do the work.” Seb promised and got up to turn the radio on and find the right station.

Aaron sat with him for a bit while they drank their tea. By the time he’d finished his, he was satisfied Seb was indeed doing his homework, and put his hi-vis vest and gloves on to get to work himself.

“I’ll be right outside, give me a shout if you need anything.” He told Seb. “And just ignore that phone if it rings, it’s connected to the answering machine, they can just leave a message.”

“Ok, dad.” Seb said and watched Aaron leave the portacabin. He waited a little while longer until he heard banging coming from outside and then figured it was safe to turn the radio up.

“Welcome back everyone, you’re listening to Dales FM, I’m Mason.”

“And I’m Alexis. And we’ve got some good stuff coming up for you as we discuss this week’s new releases and, drumroll please, your chance to win a three day, all expenses paid, trip to a European capital of your choice!”

“Will it be a weekend in Paris, the city of love?”

“Or are you and your partner or friend going to treat yourselves to the real Italian pizza in Rome?”

“Or chocolate tasting in Brussels.”

“Or checking out the museums in Amsterdam.

“It’s all up to you. You choose the city, we’ll take care of the rest.”

“If you want to be in with a chance to win, just keep listening.”

Another song started and Seb let himself breathe for a moment. He was determined to win this trip. He’d been trying all week but to no avail.

It was another half an hour before the boarding call sounded and Seb grabbed his phone to hit send on the text he’d typed up earlier.

“Come on, come on, come on.” He hissed at his phone and cursed the bad signal in his dad’s office. There was a plop and a tick and the message was sent.

Some song was playing but Seb had absolutely no idea what it was. He was a nervous wreck and nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone rang a little while later.

“Hello?”

“Hi this is Tia from Dales FM, I’m producer for Mason and Alexis. I saw your text for the competition and we all really liked it.”

“Oh… right… thanks…”

“Would you like to explain it live on air in a few minutes?”

Seb glanced out the window to see Aaron was still working and wasn’t paying attention to him.

“Uh yeah ok.”

“Great. Just stay on the line, I’ll patch you through in a bit and you can have a chat with the DJs.”

Seb nodded but then realised the person on the other end couldn’t see him and felt like an idiot.

“Ok.”

“Oh and remember to turn your radio off or we’ll get an echo on the line. You can listen to the show via the phone.”

“Oh right. I’ll turn it off now.”

“Great. Thanks. We’ll be with you in a few minutes.” She said and after a click, all Seb could hear was the music that was on air at that moment.

The song ended and Seb’s nerves spiked.

“And welcome back again.” Mason spoke. “If you’ve been paying attention you might have heard the boarding call right before these songs, your signal to start texting the studio to be in with a chance to win the all expenses paid trip for two!”

“The lines are now closed.” Alexis announced. “You’ll have another chance to win during Ollie’s show later on.” She told the audience. “We got loads and loads of texts, our inbox has exploded, but we managed to pick a winner.”

“That’s right. So let’s see who is on the line now. Hi this is Mason and Alexis, what’s your name?”

“I’m Seb. Sebastian. Seb.”

“Hi Seb, where are you from?”

“Uh Emmerdale. It’s uh… not far from Leeds.”

“Oh I know Emmerdale.” Mason commented. “My mum is from there originally. I still have some relatives up there too.”

“Your family is huge, you have relatives all over the place.” Alexis shot back. “No matter where our callers are from, you’ll have relatives living there. But we’re getting distracted. It’s not Mason’s family we should be talking about, it’s yours isn’t it Seb?”

“Uh yeah…”

“Ok let me explain to the listeners what’s going on. Seb just sent us a text for the competition. But if you win, you’re not going to keep it to yourself are you?”

“Uh no… I uh wanted to give it to my dads. As an anniversary present.”

“That’s so sweet. I hope my future kids turn out like you.” Mason told Seb. “So why do you want to give this trip to your parents?”

“Well… things haven’t always been easy for them, and somehow things always happen around their anniversary and they end up having to cancel their trip. Last year my gran got really sick, the year before my aunt’s house flooded, the year before that my dad broke his foot… and they didn’t even book anything this year because things were… kind of… mad… at home.” Seb explained. “I uh… got into some trouble at school and they’re worried I’ll have to repeat the year... because my grades are kind of… bad… right now…”

“So you want to give them a holiday so they’ll get off your case? Is that it?” Mason joked.

“No, I just want to do something nice for them. They deserve a few days away without having to worry about me or my sisters.”

“That’s sweet.” Alexis said. “Your text said you wanted the trip to be to Barcelona. You do know that’s not a capital, right?”

“Yeah, I know. But they’ve planned to go there so many times, even before I was born, and things just keep getting in the way. They’ve never been and I just thought... it would be nice for them to go now.”

“I think we can make an exception just this once.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we’re in a good mood today. Are your parents around? So we can tell them the good news.”

“Uh yeah one of them is… the other is in London for work right now.”

“Mase, what do you think? Are we calling London?”

“We’re calling London. But put the dad on that’s actually around now first.” Mason told Seb. “What’s his name?”

“It’s Aaron. Sugden-Dingle. One second, I’ll go put him on.” Seb said and walked outside. “Dad?”

Aaron looked up from his work.

“Are you done with your homework already?”

“Almost. But there’s a phone call for you.”

“I told you to just ignore it, the machine will deal with it.”

“It’s not on your work phone, it’s on mine.”

Aaron frowned.

“Who would call you when they need to talk to me? Wait, is it your dad? Did he ring me first?” he grabbed his phone from his back pocket.

“No, it’s uh, it’s the radio. I won something.”

“Oh? What did you win? If it’s concert tickets, you know what I said.”

“That’s not it.” Seb said and held out his phone to Aaron.

“Hello?”

“Hi mister Sugden-Dingle, you’re on the air with Mason and Alexis from Dales FM, can we call you Aaron?”

“Sure.”

“Well Aaron, we have this competition this week where you can win a three day trip to a European capital… and Seb just won!”

“He won? He’s only 15. How can he win a trip?”

“It’s a trip for two and anyone under 18 has to ask permission from a parent or guardian.”

“Oh, right, and that’s what you need me for?”

“Not exactly. Seb won but has decided he wants his parents to go on a well earned trip. He’s giving it to you.”

“Are you joking?” Aaron asked, staring at his son as he put the phone on speaker.

“No, we’re not joking. Seb has just won you an all expenses paid trip to a European capital of your choice!”

“This is real? This is really real? Not some kind of prank?”

“No, I promise you, it’s all real.”

“You and dad are going to Barcelona. Because you always wanted to go but it never worked out.” Seb told Aaron. “And you deserve a nice trip without having to worry about everything.”

“Barcelona… a trip to Barcelona. You’re crazy, come here.” Aaron pulled his son into a hug and kissed the top of Seb’s head. “You’re crazy. Absolutely crazy. But I love you, kiddo.”

“Seb told us his other parent is in London, so we thought we’d call London live on air.”

With a little radio magic they managed to get Robert on the phone while also keeping the line with Aaron and Seb open.

“Robert Sugden-Dingle.”

“Rob! It’s me.” Aaron said when he answered.

“And me.” Seb added.

“Hey you two. What’s going on? The number didn’t show up.”

“That’s because we’re involved too.” Alexis interrupted. “This is Mason and Alexis from Dales FM, you’re on the air right now.”

“What? What’s going on?”

“Do you want to explain, Seb?”

“I won a trip for you and dad!”

“You what?”

“We have a competition to win an all-expenses paid trip to a European capital of your choice, and Seb won and decided to give it to you and your partner.”

“He won us a trip to Barcelona, Rob. We’re going to Barca. Finally.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really!” Seb answered. “I know I haven’t made things easy for you lately… and with things always getting in the way on your anniversary, I wanted to give you this trip so you can finally go.”

“I… I… I wish I was there right now so I could give you a hug.”

“Already taken care of.” Aaron told him, smiling at their son, and pulling him close once again.

“So, Robert and Aaron, looks like you’re going to Barcelona. How are you feeling?”

“Kind of overwhelmed if I’m honest.” Robert replied, laughingly.

“Yeah me too.” Aaron agreed. “But also very happy. Because we have the best kid in the world.”

[ejzah]

A/N: This chapter is based off of season two episode “Bounty”. Again I have changed or edited things to suit my purposes. They’ll be part two for next week.

As always, thanks to everyone who has supported this story, I really appreciate it! Even if I sometimes forget to respond to your comments.

***

The Agent and the Lawyer, Part 15

“Try to aim for the inner part of area 9,” Kensi instructed as Deeks aimed his borrowed gun across the shooting range.

“Which one?” he asked.

“I don’t care as long as you get out of the 8’s.” His aim had improved marginally, but not enough to truly satisfy Kensi. If he was being completely honest, Deeks wasn’t exactly putting in his full effort.

He aimed again, falling into the stance Kensi had demonstrated during his first session. This time Kensi didn’t move to assist him, leaning against the wall with her arms tightly crossed.

It was probably a good thing. The tension between them was at an all time high. While Deeks was fairly certain he wouldn’t toss Kensi across his desk in his desperation to finish what they’d started the other night, he didn’t need the distraction.

Just sitting next to her was distraction enough. He kept remembering what it felt like to have her body pressed against his. Her hands running over his chest.

“Deeks!” Kensi prompted and he jerked.

He sighed under his breath. They really needed a night off without any interruption. Deeks pulled the trigger, hitting the line between sections 8 and 9 on the right.

Kensi made a noise, but didn’t comment as he sighted the target again. He felt a little bad for not making this easier on Kensi. Hetty would no doubt hold her partially responsible when he didn’t progress as expected.

“Your want to come over tonight?” he asked, partially to distract himself from more inappropriate thoughts.

“I would, but I promised Nell I’d go out for drinks if we finish early enough,” Kensi told him apologetically. “I think she’s kind of lonely.”

Deeks hadn’t spent much time around Nell Jones, the newest Intelligence Analyst in apparently long line. She seemed eager to prove herself, maybe a little too much at times, but she got along well enough with everyone. Deeks had even gotten a smile or two out of her.

It was fun to watch her and Eric descend into mutual bouts of geekiness, when they weren’t competing against each other.

“Maybe I can tag along.” He squinted and shot. The shoulder again.

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea.” There was an odd note in her tone and he frowned.

“Why not?” he asked. Kensi didn’t answer immediately so he turned to face her, dropping the gun to his thigh. She looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me.” He said it jokingly and it seemed ridiculous, but it there didn’t seem like another likely explanation for her reaction.

“Of course I’m not!” she said, giving him an annoyed look. “Why would you even think that.” She sighed and pushed herself of the wall. “I just think that it might be a little strange if I invited you to come with and no one else. Everyone thinks we’re just...colleagues and I’d like to keep it that way a little longer.”

“Ok,” he agreed quietly. “But you know someone is going to figure it out sooner or later.” He didn’t say anything, a little more subdued as he considered the paper targets with two holes in its right side.

Kensi sighed again, finally walking over to him. She took the gun from him, set it to the side, and leaned against his side.

“You know I wish it was different, but it’ll make it so much easier if we don’t have to worry about everyone watching, waiting for us to screw this up too.”

“I know. But just to be clear, we’re not going to mess anything up, including this “thing”.” Kensi made a face, but didn’t move away and said,

“Please stop calling it our “thing”,” she requested. He grinned, enjoying teasing her.

“Yeah, I’m probably not going to,” he said. Kensi rolled her eyes, briefly tugging him closer to kiss his cheek. “You know, that’s not really helping with the whole “keep us a secret at work” thing, right?”

She pulled back, her expression mischievous, as she started emptying the gun for him.

“It’s called self-control.” Her grin was massive. God, she could be so annoying sometimes and he absolutely loved it. “C’mon let’s see what’s going on in the bullpen.

It turned out that Sam and Callen were in the midst of their own little discussion. Callen was goading Sam, who was naturally taking the bate. He seemed in an exceptionally irritated mood.

Deeks almost made a joke about them sounding like an old married couple, but figured that would be going just a little too far. Especially since he and Sam had been on better terms since the Maragos case.

“Where have you two been?” Callen asked. Kensi froze, looking ridiculously suspicious at the innocent question. Neither Callen or Sam seemed to notice since they were focused on their own conversation.

“Uh, Kensi was just telling me about an old boyfriend she had,” Deeks answered after a second, grinning as Kensi glared at him. “She said he was super hot, right Kens?”

“Mm, he wasn’t that great,” Kensi said darkly, her eyes promising payback when they were alone.

“Ooh, looks like there’s trouble in paradise,” Callen commented. Deeks saw Kensi’s eyes dart his way before she shrugged with false nonchalance.

“We’re fine,” she insisted.

“It doesn’t sound like you’re fine. It sounds like you two can barely stand each other half the time,” Sam said, standing up. “If you’re going to be working together, you need to start building a healthy relationship.”

Deeks had to force himself not to laugh. He wondered if making out against a wall counted as a healthy relationship in Sam’s mind.

Narrowly holding back a smirk, Deeks said,

“We’ll work on it.”

Eric whistled for them at the top of the stairs, saving them from further conversation about relationships.

Eric and Nell quickly filled them in on Thomas Booth’s kidnapping and they were off to check out a stolen Audi. Kensi maintained a larger distance between them than normal, but he thought it was mostly for show.

***

By the time they made it to the scene, Kensi seemed to have forgiven him or was putting aside her annoyance for the sake of professionalism.

While Kensi briefly spoke with an on-scene cop, Deeks scanned the area and noticed three males, maybe on their late teens watching from the opposite side of the street.

“Hey Kens,” he said, touching her arm and nodding to them. They didn’t move as he and Kensi approached.

“Gentleman,” Kensi greeted them with a smile. “Is there anything you can tell us about what happened here?”

The one in front grinned at Kensi and shrugged. None of them seemed to even notice Deeks standing next to her.

“Last night we saw some guys around the corner, in the empty lot, with flashlights,” he told her.

“Any idea what they looked like?” The kid shook his head.

“It was too dark. Five went out there and four came back. That’s all we saw.” Kensi nodded, giving him another smile and handed him a card.

“Well, if you think of anything else, let me know,” she said.

“Unbelievable,” Deeks muttered as they walked towards the lot. At Kensi’s questioning look, he explained, “You didn’t even have to try with that kid. He would have told you anything.”

“There are perks to being pretty,” Kensi said a little smugly. “And it certainly saves me snitch money.”

She turned more serious as they approached two broken down, graffiti covered cars that looked like they’d been there since Hill Street Blues was filmed.

“You smell that?” Kensi asked and he nodded, wrinkling his nose against the stench. It was impossible to miss, which didn’t bode well for Thomas Booth.

“Geez,” Deeks hissed when they found his mutilated body carelessly slung across the backseats in one of the vehicles. Booth was stripped down to his boxers, drying blood coating several parts of his body and a grid of black marker across his chest. Deeks took an involuntary step back, pressing his hand against his mouth for a second.

“You ok?” Kensi touched his arm and he nodded again, even if it wasn’t entirely true.

“Yeah, just took me by surprise.”

“I’ll go tell LAPD we found him,” she said with a sigh, leaving Deeks with the body.

He forced himself to move past his revulsion, crouching down by the car. Someone had clearly tortured Thomas Booth; he’d been stabbed multiple time. He must have been in horrific pain the entire time. Deeks shuddered at the thought.

Kensi returned, with two officer, directing them to collect evidence from the rest of the lot. She crouched beside Deeks, sighing as she pulled on black latex gloves. She pointed to the grin of black lines.

“The Magic Marker lines all over his skin correspond to non-lethal wound points,” she explained. “The lines are a target for the stab wounds.”

“I know,” Deeks said, almost to himself. Kensi twisted to look at him, raising an eyebrow and he added, “I came across something similar from a study case during law school. He must have been terrified when they started drawing those lines on, knowing what was coming.”

“Gunshot to the head. Mercy kill. He was interrogated. Booth had information. Once he gave it up, kidnappers capped him and dumped the body,” Kensi continued, her voice clinical as she mapped out Booth’s death. It was a little chilling how calmly she could talk about these things sometimes.

“Lucky guy.” His voice was dark. Pressing her lips together, Kensi just barely brushed his arm before she continued assessing.

“Despite what it looks like, there isn’t any excessive mutilation that would indicate a personal grudge. Judging by the wounds, he was tortured for hours before he was killed.”

“He knew something,” Deeks summed up. “I guess the question now is what and how bad is it that the bad guys now have that information?”

“Yeah. I’ll call Sam and Callen to give them an update,” she said.

***

“Sam and Callen are trying to find Booth’s son, Brandon,” Kensi informed Deeks several minutes later. “Apparently he hated his dad and has a record, but they don’t really think he’s involved in any of this.”

“Mm, daddy issues,” Deeks muttered to himself. “Those are always fun.” Kensi tilted her head, considering him with narrowed eyes.

“Speaking from experience?” she asked. Deeks chuckled at her complete lack of subtlety. “You mentioned that you didn’t have a great relationship with your dad.”

“Yes, I did.” Kensi made a face at his non-response.

“You know, you’ll have to tell me sometime.”

“Just as soon as you tell me what you write about in that journal in your bag,” he countered. “Wait, it’s me, isn’t it? Just page after page of prose written about my golden locks and my-“

Kensi smacked his arm, pressing her lips together as she tried not to smile.

“You are such an idiot,” she said, looking beyond him. Suddenly her expression changed and she dropped her gaze back to him. “You see that guy in the suit? Tailored one that costs more than I make in a year?”

Deeks discretely turned sideways, giving a slow sweep of the area before her looked where Kensi has indicated. “Yep.” Kensi was right, his suit was of excellent quality. At least from what he could tell from a distance.

Kensi snapped a picture with her phone, again trying to be casual, but the man noticed anyway and took off at a run.

“He's going!” Kensi shouted, taking off after him. Deeks started to follow, but she tossed him her keys and ordered,

“Take the car, cut him off! There’s an extra sig locked in the glove compartment just in case.”

“What, so now I’m your sidekick,” Deeks yelled, even as he followed her instructions. As he drove one-handed, he unlocked the glove compartment. “Right, cause a gun in the hands of someone who regularly misses the entire target is a great idea,” he muttered to himself.

Kensi had disappeared down a side street and it took him a minute to find her. When he did, she was in the middle of fighting the suspect. He had Kensi pressed again a chain link fence and Deeks didn’t even think as he grabbed the gun, pulling alongside them. He pointed the gun out the window and shouted,

“Hold it!” Kensi used the man’s distraction to punch him, the force knocking him to the ground. While Kensi slammed the man into the fence and started searching his pockets, Deeks got out of the car, still aiming the gun at him.

The man kept insisting that they were making a mistake and after a moment Kensi took a step back.

“Put down the gun,” Kensi told Deeks.

“What? Why?” He didn’t know what could have changed Kensi’s attitude so quickly.

“Diplomatic immunity.” She held up his wallet which had an ID identifying him as Jafar Khan. Well, that wasn’t good.

***

A/N: I want to sort of follow the show, rather than completely recreating events, but if there are particular things you’d like to see or have suggestions for how to make it less cumbersome, I’m all ears. Should I continue adapting the episodes, or just include key scenes and write mostly about Kensi and Deeks’ relationship? I do have a couple things planned for a few chapters from now that I do think you all will enjoy.

Once again, thanks for reading!

[starman-john-tracy]

Radiation Poisoning | Chapter Three

by @starman-john-tracy and @asteria-star

In which John Tracy gets exposed to uranium and nearly dies, The Hood is evil, and Star generally freaks out a lot.

[Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Four]

“Inter-national Rescue.” The Villain tilts his head, shiny in his spacesuit, and John gets the feeling that he’s being sized up, like a predator judging its prey, “Well well well, who’d have known there was another one of you, and up in space no less. I thought the little blond one was flying the rocket so you must be…” The man trails off and John seals his lips into a tight, white line. If the Hood doesn’t know about Thunderbird Five, then he’d far rather keep it that way. “You’re not a stray like my Tanusha though, are you? Could it be… another of Jeff’s boys?” Cat-like slit eyes narrow, scanning John up and down where he’s sprawled under his heel. One hand reaches down and closes around the front of the spaceman’s sash, dragging John upright, unsteady and disorientated as he’s reeled in to be examined.

“You don’t look quite as much like him as the others... but it’s there.” The Hood teeth glint in a smile like a shark, “Perhaps you take after your mother, hmm?” It’s a cruel thing to say to a man who’s lost both parents, one to an avalanche and one to the unknown. John’s shoulders go stiff with tension and the Hood’s smile grows wider, aware he’s hit a nerve. “Well then, let’s give those charming brothers of yours a rescue, shall we?”

“I won’t let you take the uranium.” John protests, but The Hood is slithering a hand up the side of John’s throat, lingering awfully over his vulnerable pulse point in a way that makes John shiver. “I… hey, what are you doing?” There’s a small spike of panic in his voice now, and he struggles against the vice grip the man’s got on his sash. The creeping fingers meet the seal of John’s helmet and John freezes, wide eyed, in the split second before as he realises what The Hood is about to do. “Wait don…!”

John breathes out hard, forcing the air from his lungs so that it won’t get a chance to expand inside him. He squeezes his eyes protectively shut as the wandering, probing, fingers slide under the thick rubber seal around his neck, breaching his helmet.

John thrashes in the man’s grip, his heart pounding, as the perfect nitrogen-oxygen of his tank begins rushing out and the vacuum starts rushing in. He coughs, soundless and awful, and he can feel his lungs starting to swell. The world begins to slide into blurred, flashes of impression and smeared colours. The hand shoved inside his helmet cups his cheek and rough, gloved fingers pat his skin lightly: a mockery of comfort.

“Lovely.” The Hood comments, though John hears him as if from the end of a long tunnel, busy as he is trying not to breathe out his lungs. “If only your blasted Father could see you now, hmm? No wonder they’ve been hiding you from me.” There’s almost a laugh. “You’re a clever boy,” The Hood acquiesces, “But I already have all the uranium I could possibly need.” He watches John struggle for a moment, with an unsettlingly pleased look on his face. “My associate is loading up our shuttle as we speak. What remains here is obviously damaged, and useless to me.” A heavy heel stamps down on one of the canisters, splitting John’s perfect welding clean open and splattering dangerous green across the metal floor.

“What a delight you are, Tracy.” He comments, as John’s struggles become weaker, “I am so glad to make the acquaintance of another of Jeff’s boy’s. Who’d have known I was one short, all this time?” He adds, and the hand slides away from his cheek, fingers curling instead under the hard metal edge of his helmet. John’s chokes, gasping, as the air from his tank rushes to try and compensate for the void inside his helmet. His cheeks are wet with tears. “It’s almost a shame that the number will be back down to four shortly.” And the Hood rips the helmet from his head, tossing the young man aside like a rag doll. John hits the rack of canisters, sending them scattering across the floor, and he cries out, breathless, at the impact. The radiation dial at his wrist is blood-red.

The Hood takes a step backward, then another, leaving John’s little room and making his way back to where he and his minion had blown their way in, with John’s helmet still clutched firmly in his hand. The astronaut reaches feebly after him, but the press of a panel slams a bulkhead down between them, the rip of wiring disabling its functionality as The Hood, as quickly as he’d appeared, vanishes from sight, discarding John’s helmet uselessly the other side of the door.

It doesn’t factor into The Hood’s estimations, but the Oxygen scrubbers onboard kick into overdrive now that the canister chamber has got a proper seal, whirring hard to try and drag out the vacuum inside and fill it sluggishly with a O2 mix. John presses his forehead hard against the metal floor and just tries to breathe, the thin air making his head spin, the radiation seeping into his pores.

***

Star’s running, gasping on the canned air from her suit so badly she’s almost sure it’s run out, and she’s just not noticed, that any second now she’s gonna stop breathing all together and never start again. Gravity’s back. She doesn’t know why or how, the only thing she can think of is someone else is on the station.

There’s a sound of voices- no, a voice, and it’s not John’s. She’s hearing through his radio, too close to her ear, making her shiver even though it’s not as cold anymore. There’s a bang, Star hears it in tinny reproduction the same time as it rattles through the floor beneath her feet.

“John?” Star calls again, low and quiet, just in case this other person can hear. She’s coming up on the wreckage they’d first come through, the little store room she’d left John to entertain himself in. With a sudden, sickly pounding in her chest, Star gets the feeling she’s about to meet the aforementioned ‘boss’.

She can hear the voice, hear footsteps, somewhere off to the side, just out of sight, like scrambling in the walls, but her curiosity was never given the opportunity to run away with her. She rounds the corner and sees the door that had been open blocked, and John’s helmet resting on her -which was arguably the wrong- side of the door.

Screw whoever else is there to hear, Star’s banging on the metal, yelling his name, between one breath and the next.

***

John shoves a palm down hard against the floor, trying to get some kind of purchase against the textured metal to push himself upright. He takes a long, ragged breath of too thin air and jumps as someone slams a fist down hard on the door that’s protecting him from the vacuum beyond. Green-blue eyes look up, startled to find, not The Hood, but the familiar, comforting face of Star on the other side, her hands pressed flat against the window, trying to get his attention. Without really thinking about it John raises a shaky hand in a dumb little wave.

“I’m… ok?” He manages, though without his helmet radio Star doesn’t have a chance of hearing him. “Ow.” The exclamation doesn’t seem to quite sum up the thick, awful burning that’s going on inside his ribcage, or how his head is pounding in time to his heart, his sinuses tight and his temples throbbing. There’s just not quite enough air in here, though it’s improving fast. The Hood hadn’t done anything too severe to him, but it had felt like touch and go for a moment there. John’s a little surprised to be alive, if he’s honest, though he doesn’t dwell on that for long. “The Hood…?” He tries to ask, though his mouth is so dry it doesn’t come out as much more than a whisper. He runs a trembling hand backward through mussed ginger hair. “I… oh...” He catches sight of the red flashing warning at his wrist, eyes widening.

That’s… that’s too much radiation. He draws in another ragged breath, thick with trepidation more than vacuum now. Oh hell. Right, ok John. You’ve gotta get out of here. Gotta move now.

There’s a struggle as John tries to climb unsteadily to his feet. He makes it the whole of three wobbly steps toward the door before his knees give out, unused to the gravity and the abuse and the eight or so greys of nuclear radiation that are eating away at his cells. He pitches forward, catching himself only barely against the door before he slides down, gasping, the other side of the glass to Star. The hand raises again, pressing against it, though it’s not clear how that helps him.

It doesn’t, really.

Somewhere on the space station, there’s a dull roar of engines: The Hood and his minion are making their escape.

Star taps on the glass, trying to get John’s eyes to focus on her instead of the big load of nothing he seemed to have drifted off into. She can’t hear him, but she saw the word okay formed by his lips, and for that she kind of wants to hit something. The word okay doesn’t deserve to even be in the same room as this situation, let alone to come from his lips. Blue-green eyes finally come to land on her, and Star holds up his helmet, so he can see.

“I’m going to open the door,” she tells him with big, rounded words, hoping he’ll be able to read them on her lips. “You have to put this on when I do.”

John knows there’s nothing worse than having a barrier, physical or otherwise, between you and a person in need of rescue. All the more so when it’s a person you care about. He offers Star a shaky smile, in some vague attempt to be reassuring, but it comes out more pained than anything, so he’s not sure it does a very good job. His head tips back, exhausted, and his fingers slide down the glass to rest, limply in his lap.

“Mmm…?” He tries to process what Star is telling him. She’s going to… open the door? That’s good… that’s… oh, his helmet. He’s gonna need his helmet...

Slithering tendrils of claustrophobia are curling in the spaceman’s chest. John’s aware, on a logical, sensible level, that there’s no way the walls could be closing in on him, but the space just seems to be getting smaller and smaller and there’s nowhere to go. The air smells metallic, ancient and recycled. It hits him like the scent of old blood.

The ship is determined to trip Star up, a loose piece of panelling catching the heel of her boot when she goes to take a step back, leaving her stumbling back a handful of uneven steps until she can see the door in its entirety. The control panel is gone, that much she can tell, not that she thought she’d have been able to do much with that anyway. A spaceship was a little more hightech than her usual target for robbery. Manual release. There has to be a manual release of some kind; all kinds of bad things happen when there isn’t… she hopes radioactive locker isn’t the one situation where a backup isn’t top priority.

Breathing is getting harder. His airways feel acidic. John huffs out an exhale, short with the need to suck air in again, to get good Oxygen circulating in his irradiated blood cells. His exposed face and neck and even his scalp have begun to feel hot and raw, like the beginnings of a bad sunburn.

Star sees it, a heavy looking crank nearly hidden by debris. But it's there. John seems to be drifting again, and Star feels a little guilty banging on the wall by his head to get his attention.

John looks up weakly at the sound, his head loose and wobbly, blinking lots as he tries his best to focus on her, trying to understand the plan. The radiation detector bleeps urgently at his wrist, the readings a deadly, terrifying crimson. He doesn’t seem to notice though, he’s preoccupied with trying to support himself, ready for the door to fall away.

“I’m opening it,” she mouths to him, holding up ten fingers in what she hopes he understands is a countdown. She can’t do anything else to help him but get the door open, so she does.

John exhales heavily, pushing the air forcefully from his abused lungs in preparation for another rough exposure to vacuum. He nods once, short and sharp.

Do it.

The door opens, not all the way, just enough for John to fall limply through in his defence, it does look like he’s trying to help, but in the end it’s Star scrambling over, hooking her hands under his arms to drag him back into the main room, easing the helmet back onto his head and sealing it a little too roughly. And then she’s gone.

Star almost doesn’t want to close the door behind them, purely to never have to be out of arm’s reach of John again.

The door clangs shut, rattling the entire crumbling ship, separating them from the toxic waste within. Star can’t help but notice the twitch towards orange her radiation sensor makes when she slides to her knees beside John. Not that it matters, she’s not going anywhere.

She’s got the spaceman up against her chest, hoping being closer to upright might help the painful gasping he’s got going on, arms wrapped around his narrow chest, back of his head resting against her shoulder. She can see her hands, clasped around in front of him, see them shaking, but she almost can’t feel them through the lightning terror racing through her body.

“I’m so sorry,” She sobs, helmet pressed to John’s in an attempt to rest her forehead on his tangled hair, rocking the two of them somewhat neurotically, the entire world tunnelling down to them and them alone. Then she catches herself. “John, are you okay? Talk to me, are you alright tell me what… tell me what to do out here. What can I do?”

John crumples against her as the door between them suddenly vanishes, little hands under his arm pits dragging him out across the floor. He’s vaguely aware of his helmet being shoved on over his head and the click as it’s clipped into place but the fresh bloom of oxygen that hits his system is what he really feels, the impact like the first breath of a man whose been deep sea diving, who desperately needs to come up for air. Star’s gone, but then she’s back again in what feels like less than a heartbeat.

There’s a whirling twist in elevation as John gets propped upright, his head lolling weakly against Star’s collarbone and the borosilicate glass of his helmet rapping against hers as she holds him to her. There’s a small sob across the radio in his ear, closely followed by another, then another. John’s head is pounding and John squeezes his eyes shut, his mouth a tight white line as nausea curls unpleasantly in his stomach.

“The uranium?” He manages after a long moment, his stupid priorities still firmly on the safety of the rolling blue marble far, far below them, despite the fact his cells have been perhaps irreparably irradiated, “The Hood…” His voice is thinner and weaker than Star’s ever heard it, and he makes a limp, heavy weight across her knees and up against her chest, evidently with no power of his own to do anything about it. “Five?” He suggests, dragging in a ragged gasp of a breath, “H-Home?”

Star starts laughing. She can’t help it, an almost hysterical bark that trails off into the words, “Don’t worry about your stupid uranium. I beat up his evil henchman and took it off his shuttle. It didn’t sound like they went looking for it.”

The Hood… So that’s who the voice belonged to. The big and scary ‘boss’. She’s going to kill him.

The dark room is blurring around them when Star looks up, unable to wipe the hot residue of tears from her eyes. The way they’d come is still sitting there, waiting ominously to spit them out into the great unknown, and Star still has John’s extra grapple packs strapped to her chest.

Thunderbird Five. She can do that.

“Okay, John, I need you up.” She really would rather not make him do anything, but even with John’s bony frame, their size difference is just too big to go dragging him around without a little of his help “Just a little minute, then we’ll be back in your favourite zero G.”

Star feels worse than the Hood, forcing him to move. His face is already grey and twisted the way it always is on those first few days back in gravity, when it takes most of John’s dwindling energy to keep his stomach firmly where it belongs. There isn’t another choice, though, and she knows it. John needs to be in decontamination, then he needs o2, then he needs Virgil, then he needs- Star runs it all off through her head, gently rubbing John’s chest in apology and forcing him to move.

Star’s laughing and the sound of it, tinny and crackly in his ear, blooms a warmth in John’s chest that has nothing to do with the radiation damage there. He smiles back at her, a bit loopy, finding her joy or relief or whatever this is that’s making her smile completely infectious. A blue-clad hand bumps uselessly against her helmet as if he meant to wipe her cheeks for her, but he forgot the three-inch thick glass separating them. Somehow, it’s almost worse than the bulkhead door.

She tells him how she hid the uranium from the madman and John’s mouth shapes a warm little;

“Oh,” though the word barely makes it out. He presses his reddened face in toward her shoulder with a soft groan, unable, for the moment, to vocalise just how relieved and grateful and proud he is of her. John can’t help how lethargic and heavy he is, his fingers slack and curling by his sides. He manages to bump his thumb, just a little against one of her knees in an attempt to convey some of the feelings to her.

“I… Ah!” There’s a short, sharp noise of pain from the spaceman as Star struggles to get him upright. He’s so damn heavy, sprawling and useless in the endeavour. There’s no chance of him piloting the Exosuit back to Five under his own power. Not like this. He’s all knees and elbows and his balance is atrocious, his head swimming with vertigo and his legs weak beneath him. “M… so tired…” He tries to get his feet as solidly on the floor as he can, tries to clamp down on the rolling nausea in his stomach, but he’s fighting a losing battle. “S-Star!” He gasps, fingers curling and desperate, “W-wait, wait, jus’ a… second. Let me… nngh...”

John squeezes his dry eyes tightly shut and tries to breathe heavily through his nose. One solid mantra becomes the only thing going through his head:

Don’t throw up in your helmet. Don’t throw up in your helmet. Don’t throw up in your...

The air feels sharp and prickly in John’s abused lungs. He’s unaware, as of yet, of the damage the radiation has done to him, but he finds himself curling an arm protectively around his midriff almost on instinct. A sharp, piercing sensation has started in his side, around his stomach.

John takes another long, deep breath, the edges of it ragged and shaky over the Comms.

Star has decided she is the worst person alive -on and off earth- when she has to haul John upright. He goes grey and moans low in his throat and begs her to let him stop for a moment, and she just… Star just braces him against her side, arms around him, and takes as much of his weight as she possibly can.

“It’s alright, baby,” she tells him softly, wanting to stay quiet but unable to keep her motormouth from getting away with her a little. “You’re gonna be fine, I’ve got you, just keep breathing, don’t worry about anything else.”

She wants to stop. She doesn’t want to move him, to go out into the void keeping them from the relative safety of Thunderbird 5 but… she can’t help him there. She can’t even let him take his helmet off.

“Five.” He agrees again breathlessly, trying to pull himself out of it. “I’ll… do what I… can…” Time isn’t on his side here, and he’s becoming increasingly aware of it. He can hardly just give up and leave Star trapped out here alone, after all.

“You don’t need to do anything,” she assures him. “Once we get back to the hole in the wall, I’ve got it.”

“My… brothers?” Their Comm system should be able to reach Tracy Island from any position in Low Earth Orbit. John can’t concentrate long enough to find his own wrist right now though. Instead, unreliable feet take a half-step toward the vicious maw, and the blank, open expanse of space beyond it. The stars out there don’t twinkle like they do down on Earth. There’re no layers of atmosphere out here for the light to scintillate through.

Five is a tiny dot out there somewhere amongst them.

She seems impossibly far away.

“Comms haven’t been working since we got here, John, not anything long distance,” Star murmurs, starting towards the way out. “Didn’t work trying to call in, and didn’t work when I just tried to call EOS… but I’ll get them for you. I’ll get you your brothers.”

Star is right about one thing, John is significantly easier to manage once they get to zero G. Aside from the terror of slipping, which Star doesn’t let herself acknowledge, getting to Thunderbird Five is almost no trouble at all.

[donda-strife]

Male reader x Luca the Selkie part 1.

*This is the follow up from the teaser that I poster a while ago. I’m sorry if it is worded wrong, the grammar is bad or the spelling might be messed up. Please let me know if anything needs to be corrected so I can improve on the story and in the future. i don’t know if there are any warnings to add but please let me know if there does.*

(Y/N) = Your Name

3rd pov

 For as long as (y/n) can remember he’s lived in one small town with his family on a farm. His family have survived on this plot of land for over 150 years which was started up by his great, great grandfather. For the passed seven years he’s sat there listening to the stories that have been handed down through the family about the legends that come with the land and what lurks in the woods. Unlike his older brother who dismissed the stories and claimed their parents where just trying to scare them both. Multiple times (y/n) would try and venture out passed the farm fences to try and find any signs of the legendary beasts and ghosts. He has never managed to get far without either his father or mother marching him back home.

On one of his adventures he managed to get further then he had ever been before which resulted in him becoming lost. (y/n) looked this way and that but couldn’t see anything he recognised and started to panic. With every step (y/n) took he could feel eyes watching him from the trees, hear leaves around him rustle and sticks crack as if someone was following him. Panicking, (y/n) ran as fast as his little legs could carry him hoping to escape whatever was chasing him. Twisting and turning, he could here it coming closer and closer.

Trying to look behind him, (y/n) turns his head only to catch his foot on a root and fall down a small cliff leading to a river. Whimpering in pain due to injuring his ankle, hitting his head and fear (y/n) closes his eyes expecting one of the creatures from his parents stories to be standing over him with fangs bared ready to tear him limb from limb. After a couple of minutes of nothing he peaked one eye open to see nothing there, no creature, no fangs, absolutely nothing.

Trying to get up (y/n) looked around but could only see where he fell from the and the river flowing behind him. Alone and scared, (y/n) crawled as far away from the river as he could and lent up against a stone. Minutes slowly passed as (y/n) sat there hoping for his family to find him and drag him home like they normally do only for him to wait longer and longer. Fear slowly crept down his spine and tears slowly fell down his face as it finally dawned on him that his family didn’t know where he was. The silent tears quickly turned into loud sobbing as (y/n) wrapped his arms around his legs and buried his head in the gap he made.

A small splash was all it took for him to lift his head in a flash. Trying to gaze through tear stricken eyes he could only make out blurred shapes. As more splashes could be heard (y/n)’s eyes began closing from the pain coming from the back of his head. The last thing (y/n) saw was a blurry figure reaching out to him as everything went black.

Malcolm’s pov:

 Ella came running into the barn I’m in with tears in her eyes and wrapped her arms around my chest so tight that I couldn’t breath. “Ella, what’s wrong?) I asked gently moving her back enough to see her face. She whimpered and stutter a bit before sobbing even harder letting me know something was wrong. The only thing I managed to understand in her blubbering was the words (y/n) and missing. Gritting my teeth I push her away from me and storm out of the barn and looked around. “(Y/N)?!” I shouted furious as Ella came stumbling after me. “p.. please don’t be m.. mad at him, he’s only a child” Ella sobbed while trying to grab hold of my arm.

“I’ve had it up to here with that boy and his wandering. He should be here working like his brother not wandering around looking for make believe!” Pulling my arm away, I glare at her and marched toward the house at a fast pace. Half way to the house Jackson walks towards me from the chicken coup after hearing all the noise. “What’s going on?” He asks, carrying a basket of eggs towards us. “That brother of yours has gone wandering again!” I shout while moving passed him.

Heading towards the house I could hear Jackson sigh and hand the eggs of to his mother. Reaching the house I walked around the side to where we keep the dogs, grabbing their leads I start to attach them as Ella comes up to me again. “Malcolm please calm down. You know how you get when you’re angry.” she pleads, barely being heard over the dogs barking. After getting the dogs sorted I push passed her and call for Jackson to come with me. He runs up to me with (y/n)’s jacket for the dogs to sniff. They sniff around and start to bark letting us know they caught his scent.

Marching into the woods with the dogs hunting for (y/n) I heard Ella slam the house door shut behind her. After a couple of hours of walking the dogs start pulling to a part of the woods that lead to a sudden drop. “Jackson, stay here with the dogs. I’m gonna go get your brother.” I say handing the dogs off to Jackson. walking over to ledge I crouch down to pear over the ledge only to gasp at what’s there. Down by some stones is (y/n) with a boy wearing only what looks like animal skin standing over him.

Standing up, I look for a way down there while keeping an eye of this boy. Slowly walking towards a steep stone path my fists clench as the boy reaches down touch (y/n). The boy gently strokes (y/n)’s head a couple of times as I start to take a couple of steps on the stone path. Suddenly, my foots slips out from under me as some of the stones shift with my weight causing the stones to clatter down the path. The boys head jerks up to look at me while pulling away from (y/n).

The boy quickly turns and starts to run towards the river, gripping the animal fur closer to his body. Attempting to stand, I look up and watch whatever this boy is turned into a seal just as he reaches the rivers edge. Finally standing up, I watch as the creature quickly dives into the water out of sight. After looking at the river for a while I turn towards (y/n) wanting an explanation only to gasp seeing him unconscious with his head slumped on a stone staining it red with a small amount of blood.

Forgetting how angry I am and about what happened I rush over to (y/n) side to see what happened. Slumping down next to his side I look at his head first to find a cut on the side of his head near his temple. Reaching down I quickly swoop him up into my arms and run back to the stone path. “Jackson! Take the dogs and run back to the farm as quickly as you can. Tell your mother to call for help and get the first aid kit ready!” I shout while trying to climb up the stone path as quickly as possible without slipping. Hearing Jackson start running back towards the farm, I look down at (y/n) and try to move faster.

Finally making it back to the farm I run towards the house. “Jackson! Ella!” I shouted getting closer towards the front door. Jackson swings the front door open as I reach it and quickly moves out the way. “Malcolm what’s goin..” Ella asks only to gasp at the condition (y/n) is in. Ignoring her I head towards the sofa and place (y/n) down gently. “Jackson grab the first aid kit! Ella call for help!” I command, quickly checking (y/n) for any other injuries. Checking (y/n) over I saw he was covered in scrapes and scratches until I went to check his legs. As Jackson returned with the first aid kit I was lifting (y/n)s pant leg up a bit only to reel back a bit in seeing his right ankle a dark purple colour and it was starting to swell. Jackson quickly handed me some gauze to wrap (y/n)s ankle up as best as possible to try and secure it.

3rd pov.

 “Jackson go comfort your mother and wait for the ambulance together” Malcolm said in what was attempted to seem like a calming tone. Jackson nodded his head shakily and quickly left the house to join his mother. Malcolm put on a pair of gloves, slowly reached towards (y/n)s head and carefully moved it to the side as not to cause any more damage. Malcolm gently brushed (y/n)s hair aside and cursed under his breath. Right on the side of (y/n)s head was a long gagged cut starting from his hair line to the bottom of his eyebrow. Malcolm quickly grabbed a towel and applied pressure just as the sirens started to come closer and closer.

Everything after seemed like a blur to the family, Ella clung to her oldest son sobbing violently and Malcolm stayed next to them as the paramedics quickly picked (y/n) up and put him in the back of the ambulance. The family followed behind the ambulance until they got to the hospital and were forced to wait in the waiting room. A heavy weight fell onto their shoulder as they waited to hear from anyone. No one spoke for what seemed for hours, the only noise coming from them was heavy sobbing and shaken breathing. Finally, a nurse walked up and asked them to follow her to where their son is. As they reached the door a doctor met them outside before they could enter.

The doctor gave them a sombre look and told them what was wrong with their son. The sobbing got louder, Malcolm clenched his fist and looked away as the doctor told them the horrible news that their son not only had tore the ligament in his right ankle but had to be put in a medically induced coma as (y/n) had lost a lot of blood from his cut and was putting the brain at risk from lack of blood flow. The doctor opened the door and watched Ella move rapidly into the room to make sure her baby is OK. Jackson slowly moved into the room after Ella, not really understanding what's going on. The only one not entering the room is Malcolm who refused to even look in the direction of the hospital room but after some prodding he walked into the room only to stand by the door.

The doctor came in after shutting the door and explained to the family what they’re doing to help (y/n) and because he was unconscious due to a hit to the head there's a chance of him losing some if not all his memories. As the doctor started telling Ella how it most likely wont happen Malcolm started to think back to what he saw red, that thing had hurt his son. The sound of them talking slowly faded as he started thinking more and more about what he saw and what could of happened if he hadn’t gotten there in time. The doctor left the room just as Malcolm came back to his senses as Ella sat down heavily in a chair next to the bed.

After a couple of weeks the doctors decided it was time to bring (y/n) out of the coma and waited for the family to arrive before staring. As soon as the family walked into the room you could see a change in both the parents. Ella walked in with hair that was greasy, dark bags under her eyes and how they looked bloodshot from constant crying where as Malcolm was the complete opposite. His hair looked like he’d dragged his hands through it in frustration, fist clenched by his sides in anger and a frown permanently on his face. The only member of the family who hadn’t changed was Jackson who look a bit exited to be seeing (y/n) again.

The doctors chuckled as Jackson asked them questions about what was going to happen and when would (y/n) be coming home. As a nurse started setting everything up Malcolm quickly began getting angrier and angrier with every second that passed until he stormed out the room with a loud slam of the door. Ella sighed shakily and told the nurse not to worry as this had been happening a lot lately. The doctor glided into the room and slowly started to wake (y/n) as everyone waited with baited breath for any changes.

[monstersandmaw]

Male vampire (Ruben) x trans male character - Part Two (sfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

I honestly thought I’d posted this one already on here, so I’m so sorry, and thank you Anon for reminding me!

This has very kindly been sensitivity read for me by two lovely people independently, and I’m hugely grateful to both of them for educating me and suggesting alterations and improvements on how to handle various aspects of this love story. I would never have posted this without your help, and I hope I’ve done that help justice! As with all my stories, however, if there’s anything that anyone feels needs addressing, please get in touch with me privately.

The story is still told from Ruben’s point of view. Please remember that he is a 480 or so year old vampire, with surprisingly little experience of dating, but he’s trying! We pick up where we left off last time, with Ash having just been confronted with the alarming sight of a suit of armour clanking into the room with no helmet, asking Ruben where his head is… understandably, he freaked out at that and left. Ruben is immensely frustrated that his one and only chance to talk to Ash about his being an undead vampire has now possibly been blown…

CW: mentions of blood drinking and vomiting, past child abuse and murder of family (all Ruben), and discussion about Ash being trans and what that will mean for their relationship going forward.

Part One

—

I hung a long time in the completely black vaults beneath the castle, suspended as nothing more than a ball of shifting black mist, deliberately ignoring the seething, roiling anger inside me. I knew I’d had one chance to tell Ash about what I was, to explain things calmly and rationally, to let him decide if I was a creature he could even begin to entertain the idea of being with, but it had all been shattered and I had no one to blame but myself. I should have warned Aubrey that he was coming, but I’d been so caught up in the excitement of seeing him again - like some giddy teenager - that it’d simply not even occurred to me, fool that I was.

Eventually I heard a heartbeat, felt a presence, and I allowed my awareness to expand beyond my own collection of vaporised molecules.

It was not Ash.

Aubrey’s partner fumbled falteringly into the vault and called my name. “Ruben… I know you’re in here. Aubrey just told me what happened… It… That sucks…”

I materialised in the middle of the room and staggered, gasping as I became corporeal once again and the old, familiar pain seemed suddenly as fresh as the day I had been shot full of silver buckshot. “That’s one way of putting it,” I growled, groping for a nearby column to steady myself as I staggered, vision blurring.

“I… I’ll talk to him if you like… tell him about Aubrey…”

“Don’t tell him about me,” I rasped through clenched teeth. “I want that to come from me, personally.” If I ever got the chance, I added bitterly to myself.

I was met with a nod, though there was hardly a pinprick of light in the chamber; certainly not enough for human eyes to make out anything. “Ruben… are you going to be ok?”

I nodded in return. “Yes. I was a fool. Please, if you speak to him, reassure him that he is welcome to return here should he wish, and that he is in…” I had been about to say that he was in no danger, but that would have been a lie.

As a vampire, even one with an inability to digest blood properly, my bloodlust still presented a very real danger to him. Besides, my strength, my speed… all it took would be one miscalculation, one moment of carelessness.

“What am I saying…?” I hissed, turning away. “You should just tell him never to come back here.”

“I won’t do that, Ruben. You’re a good soul. You and Aubrey both. You deserve to be happy, and I think Ash makes you happy.”

“I barely know the man!” I snarled, still dizzy and weak.

“You were getting to know him…”

When it became apparent that our discussion had become circular, Aubrey’s partner left me and I returned to my peaceful, incorporeal state for the rest of the night. As I felt the sun’s tug on the world, even from down in the dark, I decided to head back up to my chambers where the secret door would open for me and my simple black coffin awaited me.

When next I awoke with a great, hoarse, gasping intake of breath, I heard sounds outside the secret door and frowned. Sitting up and pushing the lid up off my coffin on its silent hinges, I caught the sounds of armour pacing up and down in my bedchamber.

With a tiny smile, I stepped awkwardly out of my coffin and discovered that someone had thoughtfully brought my cane up for me and laid it beside the coffin. I needed it to help me stand, let alone walk. All the drama with Ash and the ensuing misery had drained me. I groaned as I realised I would have to feed again, and my stomach turned over at the mere thought of it.

As I opened the secret door in the wooden panelling, I managed to smile and said, “Aubrey.”

“Ru, I’m so sorry,” he blurted, turning around - now with his helmet reinstated - and taking a few faltering steps towards me. His fingers clenched and unclenched with a soft clinking.

I inhaled deeply, the familiar, ferrous tang of his armour filling my senses almost like blood. “It’s alright,” I said, and I was surprised to find I meant it. I was resigned to the facts now. “Though I think it’s Ash who could do with your apology more than me…”

When I enquired as to the whereabouts of his partner, I discovered that Ash had agreed to meet and discuss what he had seen, and that the two of them were at the pub at that very moment. At that news, I frowned and shot a glance out of the window, only to discover that it was long after sundown.

“You slept late tonight,” Aubrey murmured.

I patted his shoulder and said, “You mean you let me sleep late…”

Something buzzed and I looked over at my bed - unused as always - and at the source of the noise. Aubrey’s phone lay on the covers as if he’d tossed it down in frustration, and he darted over to pick it up and read the message. He pulled his touch-sensitive gloves back on, snatching them up from the bed, and opening up the message in a flash.

“Good news!” he chirped.

I walked a little closer and came to a halt, resting my weight on my cane and my shoulder against the post of my carved, wooden, four-poster bed. “Oh?”

“Ash wants to meet you again and talk, but he wants you to come to him at the bar.”

Relief washed through me and I felt myself stagger, knees buckling.

Aubrey was at my elbow in a heartbeat.

“Easy,” he laughed. “I didn’t know you felt that strongly about him yet. I mean, I knew you liked him, but…”

“I don’t want him to be afraid of me,” I said truthfully steadying myself on his arm. “Whether or not anything ever happens between us, I… I don’t want him…” my voice became a ragged whisper and I lowered my head. My loose black hair fell into my face. “I don’t want him to fear me, Aubrey.”

Aubrey hugged me then in a way he’d not done in over a century. His metal plates were warm and I could almost kid myself that he was my big brother - human again - as I laid my cheek on his breastplate. “I want you to be happy, Ru,” he said in a quiet rumble that I felt more than heard. “I think he makes you happy too.”

“You’re the second person to tell me that in twenty-four hours,” I said, sniffing and pulling back from his embrace. I took my brother’s shoulder in my grasp and kissed the cheek of his closed helmet. “Thank you.”

With that, I headed downstairs, fed, endured the usual aftereffects, and then settled myself into a chair to recover and message him for the first time since the previous day.

‘Ash, I understand that you’d like me to meet you at the Coach and Four, is that correct? I will gladly come to you, but only if you wish it. And -’ my thumbs hovered, trembling, over the screen before I forced myself to go on. ‘-And I will tell you anything you wish to know.’

I didn’t get any response for almost ten minutes, during which time I paced the room slowly, willing my stomach to settle, limping back and forth in front of the large bay window overlooking the sea.

Aubrey had left me to stew over it all in peace, and I was grateful to him for the privacy which he had extended to me.

When it eventually came, Ash’s answer restored only a modicum of calm to me.

‘I’ve been hearing about Aubrey but not about you. If you’ll tell me what I want to know and promise to leave me alone if I ask then yes, I’d like to meet up. A.’

I drew in a long, steadying breath through my nose and let it out slowly. At least he was going to let me explain. I could ask for no more than that. ‘You have my word.’

I drove down immediately and parked around the corner from the pub. My heart was in my mouth as I put palms to the door and pushed, and yet the moment I saw him sitting there in the corner, alone now, I felt strangely hopeful. He even smiled at me as I approached.

“Hi,” he said, standing up as I neared his table.

I bowed my head, closing my eyes briefly, and then, taking a deep, steadying inhale which brought with it all the vile smells of the bar - I think I might have turned a little green - I managed to croak, “Thank you.”

Ash nodded at me and sat.

“May I?” I asked, eyeing the empty chair across from him.

Again, he nodded, and I could hear the racehorse pace of his heartbeat.

“You look terrible,” he ventured, and I snorted, lips curling up on one side.

“It’s true, I’ve felt better,” I admitted, but offered nothing more just yet. After I had settled myself in the seat and leaned my cane against the table, I looked up at him. “I understand you’ve heard all about Aubrey?”

Ash himself looked a little pale and a tad clammy, but I can’t say I blamed him. But those gorgeous eyes of his still burned with curiosity, and I tried to take that as a comfort. He was at least as intrigued as he was afraid.

Licking his lips, Ash nodded. “Yeah. That was… quite the story…”

“I’m sure all of it was true,” I murmured. “Do you have any questions about any of that which I might be able to answer, before we move on to… well… me?”

I watched his throat bob apprehensively. “He’s really your brother?”

“Step brother, but yes,” I said, resting my forearms on the table. “My mother remarried Aubrey’s father.”

“And your mother wasn’t human?” he asked very quietly. From that, I guessed that Aubrey’s partner had skirted the issue, but had been unable to get by without at least touching on the truth in some vague way.

I nodded and then steeled myself to tell him everything. “Please interrupt if you have questions,” I began, “But otherwise I will simply tell you what happened, from the beginning.”

After Ash’s nod of understanding, I swallowed and then said, “My mother began her life as a human, but when I was four, my parents were travelling by coach late at night and were attacked by a very powerful and ancient vampire.” I watched Ash’s steady blue eyes widen as he looked at me anew, but he said nothing, so I continued. “This vampire drained my father dry, but when she begged him to make her like him instead of killing her, he turned my mother. I was not present, and so I escaped either death or turning at that point.”

“You’re a vampire then?” Ash breathed, and then he rolled his eyes as if he should have known all along. “Figures…”

With the smallest of nods, I let my dark gaze slide away from him and down to the ringed surface of the pub table. I traced one circle with a fingertip for a moment before carrying on. “I knew something was different about her, but I think I was too young to realise what she had become. I was sent away to boarding school when I was eight, and then I went to Cambridge when I was old enough, so I didn’t spend much time at the family home. I knew she’d been courting someone, and that our own finances were not in a particularly good way. She… She was unhinged… deranged… cruel in the extreme, and she had a way for spending money that I have yet to encounter again.”

I balled one white fist on the table and watched my knuckles strain. “When… When I was a child and I came back for the holidays from school, she would lock me in the cellars or in a broom cupboard while she held the most extravagant parties. Sometimes she’d forget about me for days, and would eventually send a servant to find me. Often she couldn’t even remember which cupboard she’d thrown me into before locking the door… I tell you this not to garner sympathy,” I added, flicking my eyes up to meet Ash’s again, “But so that you understand that I had always simply thought that she was a monster, and one who needed more cash to fund her opulent lifestyle. I didn’t realise she was undead until much later.

“The man that she had begun courting was Aubrey’s father, and with him she had been nothing but sweetness and grace. Even Aubrey liked her, though he’s a gentle and trusting soul anyway. Aubrey’s family owned some of the largest and wealthiest estates outside of the English Crown at the time, and -”

“At the time?” he interjected. “When was this?”

I made a side to side movement of my head and said, “Around the early 1500’s.”

“Fuck,” he hissed. “So… uh… you’ve been a vampire for that long?”

I nodded. “Yes.” I let that information sink in, and then ploughed on. “As she forged a relationship with Aubrey’s father, so I began to find a friend and a brother in Aubrey. He was older than me, but not by all that much, and he took me under his wing. I’d been shy and bookish, afraid of others, but he introduced me to his friends and socialised me a lot more. I was still odd, and I needed my space, but I started to laugh again and come back to life a bit more. I think when my mother realised just how close we had become, she started to panic.”

“Why?”

My smile was not kind as I said, “She had planned to kill Aubrey’s father and Aubrey, and claim their inheritance. She had already used her talent for control on him to make him write a will that left everything solely to her. To be honest, I’m not sure why she didn’t try to kill me earlier. I was human, and nothing but a burden to her, but perhaps she had hoped at one point to marry me off to some rich lord’s daughter. Anyway,” I said, waving my fingers as though brushing at a cobweb, “The long and the short of it is, once they had been married for a year, and all the legal documentation had been secured, she attacked Aubrey’s father. She caught him by surprise and killed him. Aubrey came running in at the sound of the attack, but she hadn’t expected that I would be with him, that she would be outnumbered two to one. I was supposed to have been out for the evening, but had cancelled at the last minute. When she tried to kill Aubrey, I intervened, and she flew into a rage.”

Ash’s normally healthy complexion looked pale as cold porridge as he listened, but he didn’t interrupt me.

“As he bled out on the floor, Aubrey’s essence somehow became entangled forever with a suit of parade armour which had been standing in the corridor on display. It had been knocked over in the fight. I begged him not to die, and perhaps it’s my fault. I don’t know. She’d bitten me,” I said, my fingers finding their way to my neck where she’d savaged me, “But before I also bled out, I managed to grapple the dagger from her as we fought, and I stabbed her in the heart. I passed out, and when I came round, I was a vampire. I assume that her blood had mingled with mine as she died on top of me, and that was what turned me.”

“God, that’s horrific…” Ash whispered. “How come Aubrey became tied to the armour though?”

I shrugged. “Lots of hauntings are the result of violent ends, and he always had a strong spirit and desire for life. But maybe it was because of what I said as he died in my arms… The armour was knocked over in the scuffle, and he… exsanguinated beside it, soaking it.”

I sensed that these questions had been brewing since his earlier discussion, and now with all the information, he felt able to ask them. “So he’s a ghost, in a suit of armour?”

I had to smile. “So to speak. His essence, his soul if you like, is tied to that suit of armour. He can remove himself from it, but if he stays away from it for too long, he begins to fade, and eventually he would die.”

“Right. So… what happened after the attack…?”  

“Well, I had been wounded and weakened, but I was able to maintain the illusion that I was still human and keep everything hidden from the servants and staff. My mother’s sire had somehow caught wind of what she had planned to do, and he came to the house a day after it happened, and offered to teach me all he knew. He said that he never should have turned her, but he let himself be moved by her. She’d always been a convincing liar and actress, so naturally, her ‘talent’ had been for persuasion and control when she had become a vampire.”

“‘Talent’?” he asked, and I explained.

“Many vampires exhibit a certain knack or talent for things. Some can control people, others can shape shift into wolves or bats.”

“What can you do?”

“I can turn into shadow or mist,” I said very quietly. I was now entering territory that could really unnerve him - i.e. myself.

The expression that I saw on his face was not the one I had been expecting. His lips quirked up on one side and his eyes glittered. “That’s… I mean… let’s say I believe you for a second… which I kind of do, that’s… actually pretty cool…”

I had to smile myself at that. “It has had its uses, I don’t mind admitting.”

“Is there some way you can prove to me that any of this is true?”

“Here? Now?” I asked, horrified. “Ash, I have to be careful. The hunters’ guild is still very much active, and despite my long life, I have no desire to end it just yet…”

“You think there are vampire hunters here? In this sleepy little seaside town?”

I shook my head. “Probably not, and I’d like to keep it that way. If word gets out of strange happenings - a man turning to mist in a pub - then it will draw their attention and they will start sniffing around.”

“Ok, ok,” he said. “I wasn’t gonna ask you to turn into a fucking bat or anything. Just… you don’t have fangs, and other than you being pale and really old fashioned, there’s nothing to suggest you’ve been around since the fucking fifteen hundreds, that’s all…”

“Oh,” I said, instinctively running the tip of my tongue beneath one canine. “I can at least show you my true form, provided that no one is looking.”

“True form? You mean, this isn’t what you actually look like?”

“I do look like this, but the physical changes we undergo during feeding is considered our ‘true form’.” I hastened to add that we don’t have to be about to feed to reveal that form, and he relaxed a little.

Something thrummed in him with a wild, nervous energy, and he said, “Ok. Show me that then.”

I took a deep breath and glanced about. No one was looking at us in our quiet corner, and I had my back to the room.

Closing my eyes, I called on the raw power inside me, delving deep into a place I hated, and it was like dipping my fingers into icy water. A thrill ran through me and I felt my facial features shift, sharpen, my cheekbones becoming more prominent as my cheeks grew gaunter, my eyes sinking a little deeper and flaring a flaming crimson red. The most noticeable change, at least for me, was the lengthening of my canines. My gums throbbed and burned as my fangs were propelled slowly downwards, ready to sink into the skin of a human. My stomach, as ever, protested the very idea of it, and I was sure I must have turned a little green again.

When I dared open my eyes, Ash was staring at me with a mixture of horror and fascination on his face. “You really are a vampire,” he finally whispered.

I blinked slowly at him. I could see his carotid pulsing. “Yes.”

He remained silent for a while, just staring at me, and I let him, despite the way it made my skin crawl to be under such intense scrutiny. Ash surprised me once again when, instead of recoiling or running out of there screaming ‘Nosferatu’, he reached for my bare hand where it now lay curled in a loose fist on the tabletop. “You’re cold,” he observed, and I quirked an eyebrow which, to my pleasant astonishment, made him laugh. “Should have guessed you would be. Are you always cold?”

“Undead, so… yes.”

“Right.”

“I mean, technically I’m not that cold. I’m just colder than you. My body tends to match the ambient temperature…”

“Like a reptile…” he mused and I snorted. After another few moments, he let go of me and said, “If… If you wanna, you know… switch back… that’s fine by me.”

I did, and he watched, fascinated, as my features softened again and I became almost feminine in comparison to the gaunt-faced beast I had been before. “Thank you.” I almost felt his next question in the air before he even articulated it and had to smile.

“I’m guessing you drink blood then?”

With one slow nod, I confirmed it. “All vampires do,” I said. “Though I have trouble digesting it, so I do not drink nearly as frequently as I probably should. And before you ask, most of us have connections with people in the blood donation service. There are even humans who willingly donate to vampires and are handsomely rewarded both for doing so and for keeping quiet about it. I do not live-feed.”

“Live-feed?”

“Directly from the source.”

“Oh. Right. So how much of what’s in the movies is fake?”

“Probably most of it, though I don’t tend to watch many vampire movies. Aubrey has forced me to endure a few. We do not ‘glitter’, we cannot move in daylight without burning - usually we have about fifteen minutes before we ignite - and we do sleep in coffins. Garlic is poisonous to us, though not usually lethal unless given in stupendously high doses, holy water burns like acid, stakes through the heart will kill us, as will decapitation. Did I miss anything?”

Ash swallowed. “Silver?”

How could I of all people have forgotten that one? “Again, burns like acid and does lasting damage if left in contact with our bodies for too long.”

After staring at me unblinkingly for a good ten seconds or so, he shook his head slowly. “It’s a lot to process…”

“I understand. Shall I leave you for now?” I asked with the utmost reticence.

He licked his lips and sucked the tip of his tongue pensively for a second or two. “Maybe?” but as I took my cane in my hand and made to stand, he added, “Wait,” and I found that his lovely blue eyes were fixed on the steel-handled cane in my fingers. “Do vampires heal up faster than humans?”

I nodded.

“Then… how…?”

“That’s a longer story, but I was telling the truth when I said to you before that I was attacked, and that it was a long time ago. I will tell you about it another time, if I may.”

“Was it hunters?” he pressed, and I nodded.

Once I had straightened up and was looking down at him, I smiled. “Thank you, Ash, for giving me a chance to explain myself and the events of last night. You… You handled that with remarkable grace.”

He let out a snort of laughter at that and shook his head again, running unsteady hands through his sandy blond hair, ruffling it just perfectly. The urge to kiss him took me completely by surprise but I remained perfectly still as he said, “From the way you talk, I should have seen this coming, right?”

I only curved the corner of my lips into a wry smile and shrugged. “Goodnight, Ash.” I had just turned around to leave when I paused and looked back over my shoulder at him. “And I don’t think I need to tell you how important it is that you remain quiet about what you have been told.”

“You got it, Ruben,” he said shakily. “Whatever happens next, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you.”

And with that, I left.

Aubrey pounced on me like a heavily-armoured battle retriever the moment I got back, and I told him as best I could what had occurred. “It’s up to him now,” I said, trying to stave off the utter, crushing misery that was filling up my lungs like spray foam. While the encounter had largely gone well, there was always the very real chance that he could decide that our little family was just far too strange and dangerous for him.

The next seven days that passed without word from Ash were amongst the longest I have ever endured.

But finally, I awoke one evening and emerged from the secret chamber which houses my coffin to find the sound of voices drifting up from below. The castle doesn’t mute noises quite as well as one might think for such an old and thick-walled building. It is, after all, honeycombed with hidden passages and staircases.

Descending from one such staircase, I paused at the bottom, on the far side of the entrance hall to the castle, and listened with barely contained joy, to the voices of Aubrey’s partner and Ash. The latter, it seemed, had tentatively agreed to come up to the castle, and had made his friend very excited. A moment later, Aubrey came clanking out and I heard him give a yip of pleased surprise.

In order not to appear in their midst from a secret panel like a woodworm from the very fabric of the castle, I shifted to my shadow form and flashed through the building, coming to a halt in the passageway which led from the hall and down, eventually, towards the kitchens. Taking a moment to steady my breathing and my equilibrium after such a rapid journey, I laid my hand on the smooth plasterwork of the corridor, and inhaled and exhaled slowly. Only then did I make my way up the corridor, my cane tip clunking on the hard, polished floors and announcing my presence, along with my tell-tale rocking gait.

When I entered the entrance hall, all three of them turned to face me, and I watched Ash’s lips curve into a soft smile. “Hi,” he said, in much the same breathy tone of voice as he’d spoken to me back at the pub the week earlier. “I… I hope it’s ok that I called uninvited…?”

“Of course, Ash. You are always welcome here.” At a flat look - don’t ask me how I know it was a flat look, I just do - from Aubrey, I added rather awkwardly, “I’m delighted that you’re here.”

A tense pause hung in the air between all of us, so I drew on my many years of forming connections in a more professional situation, and suggested that I give Ash the tour he never got on his first visit.

He grinned. He could see I was nervous and I silently blessed him yet again for his patience and grace in dealing with me. “Sure,” he said.

It took us over an hour to explore the castle, and by the end of the countless sets of stairs and corridors, vaults and parapets, my hip and knee were aflame, but I tried my best to conceal it from Ash. Eventually however, my pace got slower and slower, and my limp more pronounced, and I could no longer hide it.

“Ruben…?” he asked as we paused at almost the very heart of the building in a flagstone courtyard garden that smelled of jasmine in the early summer. Now, in the cool of autumn, it smelled of the frosts to come and of the chill of the stone itself.

“Yes?” I said, cursing the hitch in my voice.

He turned to face me and said, “You don’t have to keep soldiering on to impress me. If you’re in pain… say so…”

I took a deep breath, recalling my promise always to speak the truth to him. “Alright. I am in pain and would appreciate a pause. Would that be alright?”

“Of course,” he said, and plonked himself down into one of the cast iron chairs nearby, where I liked to take tea in the spring.

“How have you been?” I asked once I’d eased myself into the chair opposite him. “I mean, I haven’t had the chance to ask you, amid all the excitement of diamonds in the vault and peregrine falcons in the tower…”

He grinned. “I’ve been thinking of you a lot,” he said.

“And?”

“I… I’d like to see what happens next. If you’re up for it still.”

The relief that washed through me took me by surprise and I found myself laughing softly. My head bowed forwards as my chest caved a little, and my long hair slid over my shoulders to shroud my face a little.

“Ruben?”

Smiling, I looked up at him. “I… Thank you, Ash. I honestly didn’t know what to expect.”

“Ok, I have another question for you, and it’s not about being a vampire, though I do have questions about that too…”

“Alright. Ask away.”

“Is it possible for you to say how many people you’ve been with in your life? Not, like, one night stands, but… well, like a romantic -”

“One.”

That shut him up almost faster than finding out I was a vampire had.

He stared at me, aghast. “You’re… You've been alive since fifteen-fucking-hundred and you’ve only been with one other person?”

I shrugged. “I don’t normally feel the need to become romantically involved, and sex for its own sake is definitely doesn’t appeal to me. The last person I was with was a vampire, so you are the first human I’ve been with. Or… at least am beginning the process of being with…”

Ash looked me up and down and then, as though he could no longer contain the question, blurted, “But why? You’re gorgeous!”

A small laugh escaped me and I shook my head. “My physical appearance not withstanding, I simply haven’t sought it out.”

“Ok then… So why me?”

My gaze bored into his and he met and held it. “I’m not sure how it started,” I said honestly. I adjusted my position in the hard iron chair and grunted before taking a steadying breath and continuing. “That night at the bar when we first met, I had had no intention of going out, let alone of finding a date. In fact I’d given Aubrey a flea in his helmet for even making me suspect such a notion. But then there you were, and… Ash… you have such life to you.”

“I mean, I do have a heartbeat…” he grinned. “That’s one up on you, right?”

“No,” I scoffed, “It’s not that. I could perhaps have had hundreds of human partners if I’d so wished it over my lifetime, but… I’ve never smiled so much as those first two weeks after we exchanged numbers. Your wit, your sense of humour, your eloquence, your intelligence, your empathy… it’s all drawn me in, Ash, like no other human ever has.”

“Would you kiss me if I asked you to?” he said, leaning his elbows on the table, and I felt my mouth go dry and my canines throb in my gums. As intuitive as ever, he had detected that perhaps the physical side of things might be a bit slower coming to me than other aspects of a relationship, but with him, I knew I wanted it all.

“Yes,” I rasped.

“You think you’re any good after only having had one partner?”

“I did have a lot of practice with him,” I grinned, also leaning forwards and stifling the heat in my hip as I moved. “I may be out of practice though. Perhaps at some point you can remind me how it’s done?”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, feigned gagging and said, “If I didn’t know you were super out of touch, I’d never forgive you for a line like that.”

I couldn’t help smiling. He was so close I could smell him with crystalline clarity. He was nervous, but then again so was I, but he smelled of soap and his own unique scent. He’d showered after work and his hair, which had been a little damp when he’d arrived, was now dry. I wanted to run my fingers through it and find out what kind of noises he might make. Yet again, that surprised me, but I welcomed it.

Taking me off guard yet again, Ash rose from his seat and walked slowly round to me. “You said this castle has a garden?” he said, and when I nodded, he said, “You up for taking me there?”

The rose garden wasn’t much to look at at this time of year, little more than a ragged brambly thicket interspersed with some late blooming flowers, but still, it would be a pleasant and mostly flat walk, tired as I was. I extended my hand to him and he steadied me as I levered myself to my feet.

“Ruben, what… what could do that to a vampire? I mean, permanently…” he tailed off and I filled in for him.

“Permanently disfigure him? Silver. Silver buckshot to be exact. And silver nitrate. Come on, let’s go.” And I turned away from him. I was not ready to share that with him. I was not ready to relive that again, and I knew he would understand. I had expected him perhaps to be apprehensive about sharing his body with me, though I’m not sure why, but in fact I think it was me who was more self-conscious.

As we moved slowly through the castle and out into the gardens on the east side, he slid his hand into mine. Something about him taking the lead with me was deeply attractive and I squeezed his fingers slightly.

We came to rest at the wall of the upper terrace which overlooked the rose garden, and suddenly I wasn’t sure I could make all the stairs down into the lower level. It was late, and he stifled a yawn before leaning against the low wall on his forearms. “I still can’t believe you live here, ancient vampire or not,” he said. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s even nicer in the summer,” I murmured, looking at nape of his neck instead of following his gaze out into the gardens. The wind ruffled the dark blond hair there and I fought the sudden urge to lift my finger to it and brush it against the exposed skin.

As if sensing my thoughts, he swivelled his head to look at me. “So I’ve also been wanting to ask something else…”

“More questions?” I teased, and he grinned.

“Yeah. You said I could ask you anything.”

“That I did,” I said, easing my weight down onto the low wall so that he stood a little taller than me. “Something tells me I might live to regret that…”

“I hope not,” he replied. Taking a deep breath that accompanied a small spike in his heart rate, he asked, “So… You said you’d only been with one other person, and that he was a guy.” I nodded. “I’m guessing he wasn’t a guy like me…”

“You mean… being… trans?” I asked carefully, remembering the term he had used, which hadn’t been invented when my friend Maria had been alive.

“Yeah.”

“No, no he wasn’t.”

“So… What happens if… if we take this further and you don’t… you aren’t… uh…” he scratched the back of his neck, heat rising to flush his cheeks, visible even to me in the low light. I supposed it was almost pitch black for him at that time of night with little or no moonlight.

“Look, Ash,” I faltered. “I… While I have not been with someone in your exact situation… My attraction to you has not changed since…” my heart, if it could still beat, would have been going like the clappers. As it was, I was suddenly incredibly nervous. I did not want to mess this up, and I barely knew what I was doing. Not dating for over a century was really coming back to bite me in the behind.

Taking a deep breath, I stilled my racing brain and said, “My attraction to you has not changed since you graciously informed me of your situation. I would like to develop our relationship and, in time, I would like to become intimate with you. If you would permit it, that is. If… If you think you would enjoy it.”

I watched his face for a horrifyingly long time before he rewarded me with a wry smile, still leaning his forearms on the wall, and said, “What if you don’t like it? I don’t mean to push the issue, but you’ve told me already that you’ve only been with one cis guy in the past. My original hardware doesn’t match my software…”

“I… I don’t know what any of that last part meant exactly,” I said. “Is that… a computer analogy?”

“Oh my god,” he snorted, bowing his head and chuckling. “Sometimes I actually manage to forget.”

My heart dropped like a lead weight through my chest. “I do sound like a terrible prude, don’t I?”

“I mean,” he laughed, elbowing me in the ribs, “That was probably the most awkward way anyone has ever proposed sex to me, but you know what? It’s adorable.”

I shrugged. “I’ll take ‘adorable’ over ‘prudish’…”

“I didn’t exactly mean it like that,” he snorted, looking away again at the garden.

Knowing I wouldn’t be able to hide the flash of gratefulness that undoubtedly passed over my face, I didn’t try. “Thank you. Sex has never been something I have seen as a priority in a relationship, as you might have gathered given the dearth of partners in my past, so this is always awkward for me to discuss…”

He took me by surprise by nodding sagely. “I’m happy you’re still considering it…” he said with a complex emotion that I suspected I would never fully understand visible in his eyes. “Ok, look, when it comes to it, I’m happy enough to guide you through a few things if you like.”

“Things like… I shouldn’t touch your chest?” I asked, feeling horrendously awkward.

I found I wanted to get to know his body already, and explore him - see what made him arch his back and raise his hips; see what he liked and what he sounded like; and what he might like to do to me as well - and that was unusual at this stage in a relationship for me. In the past, the physical side of things had taken a spot on the back burner until I knew my partner very well. With Ash, there was still the desire to know him intellectually, but it was tinged with another longing to know him physically. It felt like my body was waking up after lying cold and dormant for centuries. While I definitely did want to pursue that, I equally didn’t want to mess things up through my own fumbling ignorance.

Ash chuckled and shook his head fondly, watching me over-think things yet again before correcting me gently. “Maybe I wouldn’t have liked it before,” he said. “I still have a bit of numbness near my armpits but you definitely can touch my chest. I… I’d actually like it if you did.”

I nodded. “I understand, and thank you.” I turned and looked along the gravel walkway and, deciding that I had made this conversation awkward enough for the time being, said, “Would you like to walk with me a little way?”

“God yes,” he said and, to my surprise, he slid his warm fingers into mine, waiting for me to take my time standing.

By the time we reached the end of the walkway, I was no longer walking, but very obviously hobbling.

Wordlessly, we stopped, and as we did, Ash turned to face me.

He looked up at me and my mind went blank at the expression on his face. “This is the time I give you that kiss, isn’t it?” I managed to murmur.

“If you’d like…” he grinned.

I leaned my cane against the stone wall that still ran alongside us, and then cupped his face in my cold hands. He didn’t flinch at all, but rather leaned into the touch.

“Last chance,” I whispered. Some morbid part of me still expected him to pull back, to turn tail and run just like he had on that first night, but he didn't. Tonight he was prepared. Tonight was happening because he had decided to make it happen.

He shook his head. “I trust you. And besides, I have someone else’s word that you’re a good guy…”

I made a mental note to thank Aubrey and his partner for setting this in motion, and then pushed all thoughts to one side as I lowered my head and kissed Ash. It began gently, hesitantly, but when he grabbed my waist I moaned suddenly, unexpectedly, the sound rolling out of me at the nature of his touch. He slid his hands up to hook them around my neck, effectively tugging himself closer to me, I deepened the kiss, nipping gently at his lips until they were flushed and swollen. His pulse raced beneath my fingertips and I found a heat kindling in my eyes.

Knowing that they would be glowing red, I made to pull back, eye rammed shut, but he clung to me.

“Show me,” he growled. “Show me what you are.”

And because it was him asking me, I did.

He kissed me again, harder, and I returned it.

I swivelled around and lifted him easily onto the wall so that we were of a closer height, and he drew me down by the collar of my pristine white shirt. I could have resisted him, maybe, but in that moment he was utterly in control of me. Again, it was as if he were a vampire with the talent of control, and I the enchanted thrall.

We kissed each other breathless, and then I noticed that his hands were almost the same temperature as mine, and I drew back, panting, gums throbbing from resisting my bloodlust which had just begun to spike as his growing arousal made itself known to my nose. It was foreign and alluring to me in a way that I’d not encountered before. I found myself getting hard, and out of breath.  

“Ash,” I rasped. “You’re cold…”

“Yeah,” he admitted, looking delightfully ruffled.

“Let’s go inside.”

“Ruben?”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t bring anything with me, but… can I stay over?”

I smiled. “Of course. I’ll prepare a guest room.”

“I could stay with you?” he said, and I had to laugh.

“My coffin would not accommodate two comfortably,” I began, but I suddenly realised that there was somewhere else he could sleep. “But my bedroom has a bed which is never used. You could sleep there.”

“Oh. Of course…”

There were going to be one or two such difficulties to negotiate in a human-vampire relationship, but I was certain we could at least talk about it now. We seemed to have got the hardest parts, respectively, out of the way, and now it was just the old fashioned formula of two people slowly falling in love and working out what that meant…

He held my hand as we moved through the castle, and when we met Aubrey on the staircase, Ash swore and laughed. “I don’t think I’d ever get used to the sight of a suit of armour just fucking walking around…”

Aubrey laughed. “Try looking in a mirror and seeing that!” he said. “Still scares the shit out of me every morning - well, ectoplasm, but whatever. Are you staying over?”

Ash nodded and Aubrey clapped his gauntlets together with glee, bouncing on the spot with a great clattering ruckus. “Yes!” he squealed and actually shot forward and embraced Ash.

When he was released, Ash looked at me and said, “Ok, here’s the real mystery. How come a suit of armour that’s made of steel is warmer than you are?”

“If you’d rather curl up with him tonight…” I suggested, and he punched me on the bicep before grabbing my hand.

We shared a laugh and I continued to make my way upstairs, breathing through the very real pain in my leg.

In my room, I fished out a clean t-shirt of mine for him and said, “I have a new toothbrush in the cupboard in the bathroom over there.” With a trembling hand I extended my arm to the door on the other side of the room and then crossed to the secret door in the wood panelling of the room. “I… I sleep in here.”

He seemed to sense that I was not ready to share that with him just yet, and so he nodded. “Kiss me goodnight?” he smiled. “I know you’re a big sappy romantic really…”

I opened my arms and he crossed to me. His hoodie was still chilled from the night air outside, and I wrapped my arms around him and placed a kiss atop his head while he still hugged my lean body. “Thank you for lending me your trust.”

Ash tilted his head up and I kissed his smiling lips before he stepped back.

“Night.”

I nodded. “Goodnight,” I murmured, and watched him cross to the bathroom.

At the door he paused and looked back at me before blowing me a tiny kiss, little more than a brief pout.

Once he had slipped inside, I opened the door to my own chambers and stepped into the pitch black. The room was intimately familiar to me, and I needed no light, so I let the panel close behind me and crossed to the coffin which lay open on the far side, pushed against the wall as though it were little more than a storage box.

It was early for me to be retiring, with dawn still hours and hours away, but I was tired and drained, and I felt its siren call, so while the heartbeat of the young human I was slowly falling for grew steadier next door, I let the sound of it lull me into my undead, dreamless slumber, with the image of him looking up at me in the gardens seared into my memory. 

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