#I was basically wondering how the whole retractable teeth thing would work

[dragonartist56]

Night Fury Speculative Biology pogchamp

[writersmorgue]

You're a Hero, Eijirou Kirishima

for @juicebocs and their wonderful art that absolutely did not make me cry. definitely not.

“Have you seen the news?”

Has Katsuki seen the news? Sure he fuckin’ has. All of Japan has seen it at this point.

He shoots Kaminari a glare, forcing the blond to back the fuck off. He just needs to get home but this paperwork is taking forever to submit.

At this point he rewatched the video more than his own wedding vows.

Eijirou had been on a routine mission, but of course, his trouble-magnet of a partner had ended up in the middle of a bank robbery smack dab in the middle of Tokyo. Alone. The robbers had set up a hellish version of the trolley problem basically, with one group of five children and one pregnant woman in one room and a dozen other adults in another.

Eijirou had panicked like any sane person would. After being given a time limit, a mere ten seconds to choose one, he picked the children.

Now in Katsuki’s mind, this makes sense. He would’ve obviously chosen the fuckin’ kids. Probably. It’s different, he supposes, when lives are actually on the line.

When Aizawa had them attempt this problem in second year, Katsuki had brushed it off as ‘bullshit he’ll never need.”

Funny how life works.

The upload bar reaches 100% and Katsuki almost knocks over Kaminari on his mad dash out of the building.

He clicks on Eijirou’s contact and presses the phone aggressively up to his ear, cursing when his husband’s cheerful voice informs him that he can leave a message after the beep.

“Leave a message my ass, Eijirou you better be fuckin’ okay.” He growls into the receiver, clenching his teeth and pressing the end call button as he steps onto the train.

Curse the fuckin’ agency for forcing him to stay late today out of all days.

It’s a mere twenty minutes later when he finally makes it home, hiking up his post-shift sweatpants he stills, waiting for a sign of life.

“Ei?” He calls, “I’m home.”

Nothing but the distant sound of water running.

Katsuki speedwalks to the bathroom, dodging various items strewn on the floor.

Eijirou’s mouthguard, his stupid shoulder gears, his boots.

Steam is visible from the doorway of their bedroom, slipping through the cracks of their bathroom door and out into the frigid air. Katsuki peels off his sweatshirt, leaving it to hang on their bedpost, he rubs his arms as goosebumps rise on his skin.

“Ei?” He calls as he places his hand on the doorknob, “I’m coming in.”

No response. God fucking damnit.

He twists the handle, waving away the wall of steam that collides with his face.

Squinting in the dim light, he can barely make out the huddled form of his husband in the bottom of the tub. Scorching water pelting his bare back. His skin is almost as red as his hair prompting Katsuki to somewhat frantically turn the temperature down.

He crouches in front of the redhead and plops himself down on their fuzzy black bath mat.

Eijirou clamps his eyes shut and digs his head into his arms. Katsuki frowns, sticking his hand out to meet his husband who flinches slightly when they make contact.

Katsuki rubs his hand along Eijirou’s warm arm before sliding his other arm under himself and resting his head on the tub.

“Ei-baby, can you look at me?” The affectionate nickname slips, laced with worry.

Eijirou sniffs and brings his head up, tears silently stream down his face, mixing with the shower water, and he curls farther in on himself.

“I’m sorry,” He sobs, grimacing as if preparing for a blow. Katsuki’s frown deepens.

“The hell are you apologizing for?” Of course, Katsuki knows, he’s not stupid. Obviously, his angel of a husband blames himself for not saving the other group even though he was handling a hostage situation alone for some fucking reason. “Ei you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Eijirou’s face screws up before he chokes out another sob, “Katsuki you weren’t there, I fucked up. I could’ve saved them both. I’m a terrible hero, you deserve someone better.”

“Ei, quit with your fuckin’ bullshit. You know that’s not true.” The softer, “one of the hostages filmed it.”

Eijirou flinches so hard Katsuki retracts his hand, “Oh no, oh nonononono-” Eijirou gasps, gripping his head in his hands

“No Ei-” Katsuki reaches out, almost afraid to touch him, “Eijirou Kirishima look at me.”

His husband’s wide eyes meet his, “No one blames you. The whole fuckin’ country has probably seen the video at this point, yes, but no one blames you. Babe, you didn’t do anything wrong. You waited for backup that didn’t come, you were calm and collected, and you made a decision, one that most pros wouldn’t have been able to make. But you know the one thing you didn’t do?”

Eijirou opens his mouth, probably to spew some self-deprecating bullshit that Katsuki is not going to deal with right now.

“You didn’t let those fuckin’ kids die. You’re a hero, Ei.” He cuts him off, reinstating the hand contact on Eijirou’s arm. He grips the redhead’s hand, hard.

Eijirou uncurls his hand and intertwines their fingers together.

Katsuki sticks a hand into the stream, tucking a loose strand of hair behind the other’s ear.

“C’mon Red, let’s get you dried off, this shit can’t be good for your skin.”

He stands, walking over to the cupboard and quickly grabbing a few fuzzy towels. He shuts off the water and rubs Eijirou down as his husband shivers, skin hardening in small waves.

Katsuki reaches a hand down to pull Eijirou up but stops when they make contact.

“If you blame yourself again while I can hear it I’ll blast you to the moon,” Katsuki murmurs sweetly.

“Understood,” Eijirou immediately responds, knowing the blond can and will keep that promise.

Katsuki pulls him upright and gently tugs him into a warm embrace.

Eijirou crumples into his arms, letting himself fall, knowing Katsuki will catch him.

Katsuki rubs circles into his back, shushing him softly as he cries.

“I- I couldn’t do anything, a-and they’re dead. All those people had families, Kat. They had lives-” Katsuki grips red hair and leads them both down onto the bed.

“Let’s get you into something warmer, yeah?” He stands, causing Eijirou to let out a short whimper when he leaves, “Close your eyes and count to twenty, Ei.”

He steps away to their closet as soon as Eijirou does so.

He returns exactly twenty counts later with Eijirou’s baggiest sweatpants, boxers, and a Crimson Riot hoodie that he’s had since high school. It’s old and tattered but it makes Ei feel safe.

Katsuki sits on the bed next to the redhead and pulls on his own All Might hoodie. Then he pulls his husband down and curls his body as best he can around the bigger man. A towel was placed under them for Eijirou’s wet hair.

“I’m proud of you, Eijirou. You were amazing today.”

The big puppy digs his head into the gap between Katsuki’s head and shoulder, taking in his husband’s scent.

“Thank you, Kat. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I love you, stupid.” Katsuki brings a corner of the towel up and begins dragging it along Eijirou’s hair, slowly drying it.

“I love you too.”

[thinkyoureholy]

Soul Eater [7]

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Pairing : Jung Yunho / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Character Death?, Demon! AU

Words : 4.4k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

 -Y/N’s P.O.V-

I glared at her, making sure Ceri didn’t try and make a move from where he stood, “Did he send you here?”

She smirked rolling her shoulders, flexing her fingers, “Why do you think he sent me?”

“Because you don’t do anything without his go ahead, like an obedient dog waiting for it’s master to tell it to walk.”

She set her jaw at my words, her eyes glowing brighter than ever, “Watch that mouth of yours, one day it’s going to be the thing that kills you.”

I gave her a mocking grin, relaxing my stance, “And you’re gonna be the one that kills me? Don’t make me laugh.”

“Are you underestimating the power of a deadly sin?”

“What if I am? You’ve never been able to beat me in a fight what makes you think you can beat me now?”

She let out what resembled a growl and charged at me. I easily dodged her attack, sensing Ceri charging from my right. I side stepped him as well, watching the two of them collide. I snickered as I stood back and watched her push him off of her. But all humor left the moment I heard her next words.

“Ceri, you idiot what are you still doing here? Go and deal with that human of hers already!” 

The blood in my veins ran cold, my mind going blank. Yunho? Why would they target Yunho? How do they even know about him? And what makes them think they can use him as leverage over me? Yunho is-- I cut that thought off the moment I realized my legs started moving before I could even stop myself. 

I let out an animalistic growl as I tackled her to the ground, swinging a wing out at Ceri. He flew back into a tree, the trunk of the tree snapping in half. I heard him groan in pain but my sole focus was on her. I dug my claws into her shoulders, pinning her to the ground.

"Touch him and I swear, I fucking swear to you that I will tear every limb from your body, gouge out your eyes, tear your tongue out of your mouth, and rip your guts out. I'll torture you over and over again until you're begging for mercy, until you're begging me to kill you. The shit we went through in our first twenty years after death will be child's play compared to what I'll do to you." I spat out, digging my claws deeper and deeper into her with every word.

She stared up at me wide eyed, the fear in her eyes clear...yet she still had the gall to smirk up at me, "Before you threaten me maybe you should pay attention to Ceri."

My heart dropped at her words, my head snapping up to see he was nowhere in sight. No...don't tell me-

I groaned out in pain, falling back against the hard ground with a thud. She had thrown me off of her with so much force I basically flew across the field, just barely managing to avoid a tree just a few feet behind me. I quickly sprang to my feet only to have her tackle me to the ground, pinning me down the same way I had pinned her down. I grit my teeth as her claws dug deep.

"Don't think lightly of me, Y/N. I'll kill you here and now for all the humiliation you've put me through all these years." She growled in my face, glaring at me with a deep hatred in her eyes, "Because of you I'm never taken seriously, even as a deadly sin. All the sins are feared, all of them, all but me. The other demons don't even so much as bat an eye at me because they've all witnessed the shameful shit you've put me through. Well it all ends now."

Her grip on me tightened, a sickening crunch coming from one of my shoulders but I refused to show her the pain I was going through. Instead I reached up to wrap my hands around her wrists, squeezing so hard they both snapped, her grip on me becoming almost nonexistent. I shoved her off of me and stood up, reaching down to grab at her collar. I pulled my arm back and swung at her, hitting her square in the jaw. And I went to do it again but she brought her heavy wing down on my arm, snapping my radius in two. With a hiss of pain I let her fall to the ground, stumbling back as I cradled my arm to my body. I grit my teeth as I looked down at the damage, already seeing it start to heal. The moment it healed completely I looked back up, ready to go at her again but she was nowhere to be seen. I looked around frantically, still not seeing her. 

Just as I cursed under my breath I felt a weight pressing down on my shoulders, shoving me face first into hard ground. I groaned at the pressure of her entire body on my back. I tried getting out from under her but she wouldn't budge. I felt her sink her claws into my shoulder, her hand wrapping around the base of one of my wings. My heart jumped in my throat when I realized what she was about to do.

“Don’t-”

I let out a blood curdling scream when she began to pull, cutting my own protests off. I clawed at the ground underneath me, doing everything I could to get her off of me but nothing I tried worked. Did I really underestimate her this much? Where the hell was this strength coming from? She’s never been able to beat me in a fight so why is she suddenly able to overpower me? Is it because she’s a deadly sin? Is this the extent of their power?

I want it.

The moment I had that thought an overwhelming sense of power surged through my veins. The anger I had felt before doubled-no it multiplied...it felt at least twenty times more intense. With a growl I pushed myself up on trembling arms. I heard her hum in confusion but that didn’t stop her from continuing to pull on my wing. Another growl left my mouth as I reached behind me, grabbing onto her arm, her claws that were buried deep in my shoulder coming out as I finally pulled her off of me. I threw her away from me, watching her collide with a nearby tree. The tree did nothing to slow her down as it split in two, Pride skidding across the hard ground before coming to a stop. I stayed where I was, making no move to go after her. The rage I’m feeling coursing through my veins was too much for me to handle. I felt like I’d burst at the seams if I moved.

My chest rose and fell with every breath I took, my hands trembled at my sides, the pain in my back was drowned out by everything else I was feeling. I didn’t even realize that my left wing just hung limply behind me. I couldn’t even focus on Pride as she lay still on the ground. I ground my teeth at what I felt next, trying to control myself. The blood in my veins felt like it was boiling, my whole body felt like I was overheating. What the hell is going on?

I didn’t get the chance to think it through more than I would’ve liked. Within the next second I felt a presence charging straight towards me. I looked up to see it was Pride. Seeing her run at me had the rage I was feeling intensify. My body felt stronger, faster, more in tune with itself as I dodged her effortlessly. I grabbed at her arm as I dodged her punch, squeezing tightly.

-Pride’s P.O.V-

My eyes widened in shock at what I saw. I pushed myself off the ground, letting out a grunt at the pain in my back but the pain vanished just as quickly as it had come. I looked over at Y/N, watching her just standing there, not moving a single muscle...I even wondered if she was breathing. 

I winced as I took a step forward but that’s as far as I got. I froze the moment I noticed the aura around her. I stumbled back at the sight of it, my heart sinking to the pit of my stomach. Are you fucking kidding me? No...it can’t be. It’s been over three thousand years...and we can’t reincarnate yet...this aura...it’s his, I’m sure of it. But why now? Why her? I cursed under my breath, clenching my hands into fists at my sides as the puzzle finally fell into place. Lucifer must’ve known...this must be the reason why he’s been after her for so long and why he’s so lenient with her. 

Wrath...the original Wrath has been reincarnated, defying all laws to come back once more and wreak havoc. All of us were the original sins...all but Wrath who had foolishly died while challenging our Lord. I was told sins weren’t allowed to reincarnate and I’d think that rule would apply to Wrath most of all but there was no denying that this aura, this crushing power I felt coming from her was his. He’s come back...and it seems more powerful than ever.

I knew there was no way I’d be able to beat her but I had to try, at least while she’s still unaware of the power she held. I have to get rid of her before she finds out. With that thought in mind I charged at her, throwing a swing as soon as I got close enough but all she had to do was sidestep me to dodge my attacks. My eyes widened, wincing as she grabbed onto my arm before I could retract my arm. She’s faster than Greed, shit, so this just confirms what I already knew. The only one that had Greed beat in speed was Wrath...just what the hell did I get myself into?

I didn’t have the chance to back down now as she kicked my legs out from under me. I fell on my side hard, not having enough time to pull myself together before her foot made contact with my stomach. I cursed, feeling and hearing a couple ribs break. I moved through the pain, pushing myself off the ground and attacking once more. I attacked again and again but she dodged everything I threw at her, landing a hit on me herself every time I missed. 

I stumbled back, bruised and bloodied all over, my left arm hanging at my side limply. I had tried blocking some of her attacks with my left arm but the damage it sustained...I don’t think it’ll be able to heal properly, it’s totally mangled. I have a feeling she’s not going to let me leave with my life, damn it. Today was supposed to be the day I surpass her and finally kill her off but with her strength...there’s no way I’d ever beat her now.

“Damn you!” I cried out, frustrated at how things didn’t go my way.

What frustrates me more than anything is how she didn’t even break a sweat, sure she was covered in blood but none of it was her own...it was my blood she was covered in.

“Why won’t you just fucking die?! I’m sick and tired of you!” 

At this point I was just letting it all out with my words. My body felt like it’d give out any second.

“Sore loser are we? Why don’t you just shut up already?” She let out with a chuckle, a warped smile playing at her lips.

She took a step towards me, the fire in her eyes burning brighter than ever. I flinched back at seeing her start to come to me, a wave of fear washed over me. 

“Ceri!” I yelled out, knowing he’d hear me...and he did.

Within the next second he appeared...but he wasn’t alone.

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

My eyes grew in size at the sight before me. Yunho had appeared just a few feet away from me but he wasn’t alone. Ceri had a beaten up Mingi grabbed by the collar with one hand and the other was wrapped tightly around Yunho’s wrist. At seeing him touching Yunho so carelessly the anger in me flared up once more.

“Let him go!” I growled out, turning my attention away from Pride.

Ceri chuckled smugly, his grip on Yunho’s arm tightened, Yunho letting out a cry as he fell to his knees, “Or what? What are you going to do if I don’t let him go, huh?” 

I bared my teeth, my eyes darting from Ceri to Yunho who was kneeling on the floor from the pain, clawing at Ceri to get him to let go. I took a step towards them but stopped when Yunho let out a strangled cry of pain. My hands trembled at the sight, this feeling inside me so strong I didn’t know what to do.

“I knew it...he’s really that precious to you isn’t he? I can’t believe it. The lone wolf has finally found something she’s willing to protect...interesting.” He began, a devilish grin on his face, “I wonder what’ll happen if I kill him.”

“Ceri no! Don’t provoke her! She’s not the same anymore! Wrath--he’s reincarnated!” Pride shouted, her voice oozing with fear.

Ceri’s smile fell as her words sunk in. I didn’t know what she meant and at the moment I didn’t care. The only thing I cared about was getting Yunho away from Ceri and out of harm’s way but I can’t even move towards them with Ceri holding him in a death grip.

“Impossible...you--you can’t reincarnate. Once a sin dies there’s no way you get to come back…” He trailed off, staring at me wide eyed.

“But it’s true! That power, speed, aura...that pure rage it’s all his! Ceri let them go! You’re no match for her!”

“I suggest you listen to her if you want to leave here alive.” I spat out, digging my claws into my palms.

The only thing keeping me from wringing his neck was the fear of Ceri hurting or even killing Yunho before I got to him. Ceri grit his teeth before he let them go, going over to Pride as quickly as he could. As soon as he let them go I made my way over to them, catching Yunho before he fell forward. Mingi staggered on his feet for a moment before finally regaining his balance.

“You’re lucky I was with Yun when he appear…” Mingi mumbled, his eyes glued on Ceri and Pride.

“And I can’t thank you enough for protecting him."

"Well don't."

"Don't what?"

"Thank me. This is your fault to begin with so I don't need thanks for cleaning up your mess. And for fuck's sake what the hell is up with those horns on your head?" He asked, catching me completely off guard.

I tilted my head to the side ever so slightly, raising a brow as I brought a hand up to my head, "Horns? What h-"

I have horns?!?!?! 

I kept touching the newly formed horns, my eyes practically bulging out of my head, "SINCE WHEN DO I HAVE HORNS?!?!?! DO WE USUALLY SPROUT HORNS RANDOMLY?!?!?! MINGI, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!?!?"

"How the hell should I know?! Stop yelling! We have more important things to take care of!" He hollered, glancing over his shoulder briefly.

"What is more important-"

"I'd think I qualify as being more important."

My blood ran cold at the sound of his voice. I turned to Yunho immediately, spotting the hood hanging from his shoulders. I pulled it over his head, making sure his peripheral vision was blocked. I placed my hands on either side of his head, forcing him to look at me.

"Yunho I need you to listen to me very carefully. You are to keep your head down and close your eyes until I tell you you can open them, alright?" I spoke quickly, keeping his focus on me and hoping he wouldn't try to look around.

To my surprise he nodded at my words, a look of complete terror in his eyes. I frowned at the look in his eyes, leaning forward impulsively to rest my forehead against his and thread my fingers through his hair.

"I won't let anything else happen to you, okay? I'll protect you...even if it costs me my life I'll keep you alive."

He said nothing, just stared into my eyes with a dazed look. I gave him a small smile, beginning to pull away but stopped when he wrapped his fingers around my wrist.

"Don't die." He whispered out, his lips barely moving.

I chuckled softly, gently prying his fingers off my wrist and readjusted the hood over his head, "They've been trying to get rid of me for half a millennium...they won't be able to kill me that easily. "

With that I finally pulled away, going to stand next to Mingi whose wounds have already healed. He gave me a quick look before looking over at the three across from us.

"Some friend you are...dragging me into your mess." He grumbled but his words carried a light tone to them.

I scoffed but let the smallest of smiles pull at the corner of my lips, "I always knew I could count on you."

Now it was his turn to scoff but he didn't move to say any more. I turned my attention to Lucifer who had appeared just as it looked like Ceri and Pride were retreating. Both Mingi and I got into a fighting stance, ready to take him on.

He had a mischievous grin on his face, "As glad as I am to see that you've finally awakened I'm not here to fight...though I do wonder how much your strength has improved. I'm only here to pick up these idiots," He mused, placing a hand on Ceri and Pride's shoulders, "I suggest you worry about that human for now...I'll call for you in due time."

And with that he disappeared, taking those two with him. The moment they were out of sight I let out a sigh of relief, relaxing my shoulders as I shifted back. Mingi also let his shoulders slump, falling back on his ass. He propped a knee up, resting an elbow on it before he buried his face in his hand. I dropped down onto my knees next to him, suddenly feeling exhausted. I was more than ready to fight if that’s what Lucifer wanted but now that he’s gone all I felt was exhaustion. I rubbed my hands over my face before turning slightly and sitting down properly. I reached out to place a gentle hand atop Yunho’s head, pulling his hood off seconds later.

“You can open your eyes now.” I said softly.

I took off the sweater I was wearing, setting it aside as I tore a piece of the bottom of the shirt I was wearing. Once I was satisfied with the piece of fabric I slipped my sweater back on, silently reaching over to grab Yunho’s arm but he flinched back the moment my fingers grazed his skin. I frowned at the action, hoping he flinched back because of the pain and not because he was frightened of me.

“I need to cover up your wounds Yunho...you’re still bleeding...quite heavily at that,” I muttered, “Is it broken by any chance?”

He kept quiet for a moment before giving a shake of his head, “It...just hurts...a lot.”

I nodded, reaching out to grab his hand this time, carefully moving his arm over to me so I could wrap the piece of cloth around it, “Well...the pain is a good sign that you're alive so there’s that. In any case...I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For dragging you into this mess. They only targeted you because they knew of the connection the two of us had to one another. I don’t know how they found out but the moment they did, they didn’t hesitate to use you against me,” I explained, gently placing his bandaged arm back at his side, “And they won’t be the last ones to come after you to get to me. I’ve made more enemies than friends in my time as a demon.”

Silence settled over us, the starless sky looming overhead. I need to get him to agree to the cancellation of our deal. As much as he gets on my nerves he’s still just an innocent bystander, a human with the purest aura I’ve ever seen. He should be as far away from all this, from me, as he possibly can. And I...I need to figure out what the hell is happening with myself as well and I can’t do that if I’m constantly looking out for him. I need to figure out what Lucifer meant by me ‘awakening’, what these new horns mean, and what the hell that was that I felt moments after throwing Pride across the field. There’s so much shit I’ve got on my plate and Yunho is that last human that should be dragged into it.

“Yunho.” I mumbled out his name, looking over at him.

He just stared back, quietly waiting for me to continue.

“Cancel the deal.”

He opened his mouth, surely to protest but I cut him off before he could even get started.

“I can’t fight and protect you at the same time. It’d be easier to just cancel the deal and completely disappear from your life. The moment I cut all ties with you no demon would have any reason to target you ever again. You can carry on with your life, oblivious to the existence of demons. You can go back to your normal life...all you gotta do is say the word and-”

“No.” He said resolutely, cutting me off, a look I’ve seen every time I brought this up in his eyes, “My answer was no the first time you asked, it’s no now, and it’ll continue to be no. No matter how many times you ask me--no… demand me to cancel our deal my response will always be the same.”

“Yunho you’re not being reasonable. Do you not care about your own well-being?” Mingi asked, speaking for the first time, “You still have so much to live for. You, unlike so many others, are fated to ascended to Heaven...not fall to Hell. Your future is at stake here. We--we’re already dead Yunho...we’re paying for committing the greatest sin of all, selling our souls. But you have the chance to save yourself why-”

“You can’t possibly expect me to cancel the deal when I know there’s a heavy price she’ll have to pay for breaking it! I’m not an idiot! I know breaking a deal should have consequences!” Yunho suddenly shouted, surprising both Mingi and I.

Mingi gave him an incredulous look before his face twisted in anger, “Of course there’s consequences you idiot! And she’s more than ready to face them!”

“Mingi…”

“She’s prepared to spend another thousand years in Hell for you!!”

“Mingi enough!” I yelled, glaring at him.

He simmered down at the sight of the glare but before he could say anything Yunho beat him to it...in a voice I had never heard him use before.

“You--you’d have to spend another thousand years down there?” He questioned meekly, his eyes pleading with my own.

The frown on my face deepened at the look he was giving me...I couldn’t find it in myself to lie to him...at least not about this, “Yes. Those thousand years you are automatically sentenced to when you sell your soul...would be added to my own sentence.”

“And how long do you have until you’ve finished your own sentence?”

I didn’t move to respond. I knew the moment he heard the answer it’d be harder for me to convince him to cancel the deal. But Yunho wasn’t going to let me escape from answering him.

“Tell me...please.” He practically begged me in a broken voice.

The sound of it had me answering before I could stop myself, “Less than a year now...eight months to be exact. And then I...I finally get to rest.”

“Now there’s no way I’d ever agree to it.” He let out in a whisper, barely audible

“Yunho-”

I brought a hand out, placing it on Mingi’s shoulder to silence him. His eyes told me he didn’t want to just let this go but I shook my head.

“We can discuss this further another time.”

“There’s nothing to discuss. I-”

“Yunho that’s enough. All I want to do at the moment is get you somewhere safe and treat your arm properly. Now just sit there and be quiet while I figure everything out.” I cut him off, my tone of voice leaving no room for anymore arguing.

He shut his mouth and did as told. I turned back to Mingi, closing my eyes for a moment before letting out a sigh and opening them.

“How damaged is his place?”

“The living room and kitchen will take some time to fix up but the bedroom and bathroom are untouched.” Mingi explained without missing a beat.

“Even if we get it fixed it’d be better for the both of us to just stay in one single place. I’d be able to keep a better eye on him.” I said before pausing for a moment, “Can I ask you to pack his bags for him while I treat his wounds at my place? Bring them up when you’re done.”

“Wait wait wait. Are you telling me to move into your place?!” Yunho spoke up his voice going up to a higher pitch.

“Well it’s the only way I’ll be able to keep a close eye on you. Besides your place is trashed so it’s not like I can move in. It’ll only be temporary...until everything settles down,” I told him, giving him a small smile before placing my hand atop his head and ruffling his hair, “I’ll keep you safe...I promise.”

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Tags : @chanyeolol​

[dreamerfae]

für immer

A/N: für immer means forever

Summary: Touka brings an injured Ken home that night and their relationship began then. AU Ghoul Ken x Human Touka.

Word Count:  4,271

Rating: Teens and Up

Genre: Alternate Universe, Tragedy

Notes: AU where Ken is a full ghoul and Touka is a human. Set in an era where ghouls are recognized as people like humans are, and are allowed to be like humans.

Ken ran and ran, holding a hand over the big hole in his torso, under the heavy rain. His feet hurt, his body numb and vision slowly fading. Turning into a narrow alley, he hoped that this would make his enemies lose sight of him. When their presences disappeared, he let out a huge sigh of relief and slid down the wall. He tried to force his eyes open but it was no use, as he succumbed to the darkness.

"That damned Nishiki! Purposely closing the shop slowly—" Touka paused in her sentence as her eyes narrowed at an outline of someone's body laying on the floor. Taking a step closer, she gasped when she saw a white-haired male lying in a puddle of his own blood. There was a gaping hole in his stomach and she quickly squatted down beside him to check whether he was still breathing.

She tensed upon feeling his breath. He was alive, but barely. At that moment, she knew that he was a ghoul. If he were a normal human, he would have died from blood loss a long time ago. Her mind debated over whether she should leave him to die here or nurse him. Freak it, she cursed. She didn't want to be responsible for this guy's death if she did leave him alone.

Touka grimaced at the amount of blood she cleaned using 3 bath towels and quickly bandaged his torso without looking at the huge wound. Finally, she settled his body onto her bed and watched as his eye twitched in his sleep.

The male stirred and slowly opened his grey eyes. It then darted all over before looking directly at her. Kaneki bolted up from the bed and jumped to the corner of her room. He bared his teeth at her and brought out his kakugan. Before he could let his kagune out, he doubled over and groaned in pain.

"H-hey! You can't just get up so fast like that! You're injured!" Touka exclaimed as she made an attempt to walk towards him and try to get him back onto the bed. A kagune tendril shot out from his back and turned into the form of a spear before pointing so closely at her face.

"Don't come any closer to me." He warned. He couldn't tell whether she was an enemy or friend and had to be cautious.

His attitude was starting to piss her off. "Excuse me, I was the one who found you half dead in the alley and bandaged you up! The least you could do is thank me, and not point your kagune at me!"

Kaneki glanced over to the bloody bath towels beside him and then down to his bandaged body. Withdrawing his kagune and kakugan, he relaxed and sat down. "..Thank you."

"Good. Now lie back down onto the bed. You need to rest."

He does as he's told and turned to face the wall. He heard her saying some stuff as she cleared the towels up but he doesn't bother when he's busy thinking of sleeping and leaving as soon as possible.

The first thing he did when dawn broke was move the woman from her sofa to the bed and left her house through the window.

--

Touka awoke to the bright morning sun and frowned when she saw that he already left her place. He still looked pretty weak last night and she hoped that he was okay. At the back of her mind, she wondered what happened to have made people attack him until he was fatally wounded. But she swept the thought away. It's not like she'll ever see him again.

She went on with her usual life, working at a cafe near her home and spent her days peacefully.

It's been one week since Kaneki met with the lady who saved his life. His stomach hasn't healed at all and he cursed himself for being so weak. This was all because he couldn't find any food in this ward, nor could he kill anyone here due to the strict laws of this ward. In his previous ward, he was able to get human meat with ease and still get away with it.

He walked on the streets, hand grabbing his shirt tightly when his torso throbbed and he bit his lower lip to bear with the pain. A delicious coffee scent penetrated the air and he directed his attention to a small cafe in the corner. He hoped that coffee would be able to heal his wounds a little or at least ease the pain. With those train of thoughts, he entered the cafe and was shocked to see the same lady who nursed him a week ago, working as a waitress there.

Both of their eyes widened when they saw each other and Touka quickly guided him to a corner seat before sitting down beside him. "Hey, are you alright? Your stomach..."

The male shifted his chair away from her, purposely putting some distance between them. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for--" He hissed when her hand settled over his stomach and she quickly retracted her hand.

"Don't lie. I'll be done with my shift in an hour. Wait for me here. Don't you dare leave without a word this time." She glared menacingly at him and he nodded with a swallow.

After her work was over, she guided him back to her house and passed him a brown paper bag. He brought it to his nose and sniffed. Human meat. His eyes looked to her, as if asking how she got this. "I know how hard it is to get food in this ward and you don't seem like you're from this ward either. So I borrowed some from my co-worker. He's a ghoul too. Don't worry, it isn't poisoned."

Despite her last sentence, he still opened the package warily and inspected the meat before taking a bite. She watched him chew slowly, swallow and smiled when he started to eat more of it. Within seconds, he was finished with the package and she handed him another one.

His kakugan was out again and she stared curiously at them. He was slightly disturbed by her gaze and asked, "What?"

"It's my first time seeing a ghoul's eyes up close."

"..And?"

"They're pretty."

He froze at her comment. Did she just compliment him? No one ever compliments a ghoul's eyes. They all say it's scary. This is the first time he's hearing a human say that.

"What?"

"I'm not lying. Hey, can I see your Kagune? I didn't manage to see it fully the other night." She asked.

"No."

She frowned. "Is this how you repay someone who saved your life and gave you food?"

Kaneki dragged a hand down his face with a sigh. He brought out his kagune as asked, and had 4 tentacles in the air. Her eyes dazzled at the sight of red scaly tentacles and she reached out to touch one. "Why isn't it sharp? You pointed a sharp one at me that time."

He answered her by sharpening one tentacle and making it soften. "We ghouls can control it."

She stared in awe and then looked at him. "So beautiful..."

His breath hitched, and he teared up a little since no one has ever called him that. Beautiful? How is he beautiful? All he's ever done his whole life was kill people and ghouls with these. They're ugly, sinful, disgusting. He's anything but beautiful.

All his life he was overcome with hatred because his human mother abandoned him when she realized that his father was a ghoul and she gave birth to a full ghoul too. From then on, he hated and couldn't trust humans. But why—when she cupped his face and pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth with a smile—did it make his heart beat so fast?

"You had a very lonely expression in your eyes earlier. I couldn't help it. Sorry." Touka said.

Though he swore to never trust humans again, he moved closer and enveloped her in his arms. Just once, he wanted to know how a human's warmth felt like. She was warm, unlike a ghoul's normal body temperature of 30 degrees. Pressing his nose into her hair, she smelt like coffee and flowers.

To his surprise, she returned the hug and wrapped her arms around his waist. Tears brimmed in his eyes when she pulled him closer and he tightened his grip around her. The way she hugged him and ran her hand soothingly down his back made him feel so wanted and so loved. It was something he didn't have, not even once in his life.

He separated from her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that—"

Touka saw his tears and smiled sadly. Poor boy. He must have been devoid of love for a long time. Maybe because she lost her family at a young age, that's why she understands how it feels to be lonely. Though he hasn't said anything about the reason why, she could see it in his eyes. I'm lonely. I need someone to love me.

She can't help but want to give him what he wanted. Since he was one head taller than her, she had to stand on her toes and wrap her arms around his neck to reach for his lips. She pressed her lips gently against his and he froze on the spot.

So many things ran through his mind but the main one was why is she kissing him? She was a stranger to him, and yet she's been doing nothing but weird stuff and stepping into his privacy. As much as he hated humans, he couldn't hate her. Not when she nursed him, gave him food, hugged him and now kissed him. It took him some time to relax his body and open his mouth to accommodate to hers. His arms go around her to pull her close and he inhaled the flowery scent of her. If he could eat human food, he'd say that she tasted like sweet strawberries.

They separated hesitantly and gazed into each other's eyes. Touka's hand caressed his cheek and she smiled. "Let's date."

His mind said no, he shouldn't date her because he's a ghoul and someday she'll get hurt. But his body said yes, because he has craved love for a long time.

"Okay."

—

When Touka asked where he was staying, he told her that he was sleeping in different areas at a time. Sometimes the park, below a bridge or on rooftops. He hasn't found a job so he doesn't have enough money to buy or rent an apartment. He was homeless basically, so she asked him to move in with her. Since he was new to the ward, he didn't have many items with him. So they also went to purchase some necessities and new clothes.

Once they were settled down with everything, Touka sat down beside him on the bed and intertwined their fingers together before laying her head against his arm. His heart started beating real fast, just like the time she hugged him. She doesn't say a word but he could see that she's smiling.

"You can do anything you want with me, you know." She finally spoke.

"..I'm sorry. I'm new to this so I don't know what I should do."

This was the truth. It was his first time dating, and on top of that, his partner was a human girl.

"It's okay. We can learn together."

--

Being a novice at dating, Kaneki didn't know how to be a boyfriend. It's been a week since they started dating and the only thing he's done for the past week was stand outside the cafe and watch his girlfriend work. He felt like a stalker of some sort but he really didn't know how to do this relationship thing.

Touka was aware of his presence whenever she worked and each time she turned in his direction, he'd quickly hide behind a tree or wall and hope she didn't spot him. But alas, she did and would always laugh at his silliness because he looked so cute doing that, as if they were playing hide and seek.

After the one week, she finally invited him in for a cup of coffee and settled down beside him. His heart raced at the proximity of their shoulders almost touching and he stared down at her hand which rested on the table. Trembling, he placed a hand atop hers, and watched her eyes light up and cheeks turn pink. He felt his own face warm as well, and decided to take it a step further, intertwining their fingers together.

Being a man of few words, he didn't know any romantic words to say in this situation. Touka knew that, turned her hand over and laced her fingers with his before giving him a smile. All he needed was encouragement and a little help along the way.

Ever since he was little, Kaneki has had problems trusting others and always kept to himself. He did everything alone. Ate alone, hunted alone and slept alone. For the past 25 years of his life, he's been doing that with no problems. After his mother abandoned him, he thought he had closed his heart off to prevent anyone from entering it. But Touka did, so easily and made a mark there.

She'd give him a big smile and welcome him home each time he returned from work, listen carefully to what he said, and touched him so gently and with so much love. Just as how she stormed into his life, he found himself falling in love with her.

Touka could tell that Kaneki was starting to change with her by his side, as he would have more smiles and laughter now than when they first met, where he always had a solemn and lonely look on his face. Truthfully, she enjoyed his company as well, being someone who also craved closeness with another, since she lost her family at a young age. She started looking forward to heading home, where he would always wait for her patiently and shower her with kisses and hugs.

They'd chat a little, and he'd ask how was her day, to which she complained about the stupid customers she met and he would laugh each time because she made it so funny. Then, they would shower and cuddle on the bed before falling asleep in each other's arms.

Sometimes, he would disappear for a day or two, just to hunt for food and she was always so worried whenever he did. But each time, he would press a kiss to her forehead and promise that he'll be back. He kept his promises and gradually she didn't worry as much as before.

It was around 4 months into their relationship that they started getting intimate with one another. It started off with them casually kissing on their couch, to which Kaneki took the kisses further and pressed his lips against the sides of her neck. She let out a gasp, panting as she felt his hands go under her shirt and they separated to gaze into one another's eyes.

He would have stopped there if she didn't encourage him to take her to bed and soon, their clothes were strewn all over the floor and their naked bodies were pressed together. It was both of their first times and though it was painful and uncomfortable for them, they enjoyed every minute of it because being this close and intimate with someone was something that they have craved for their whole lives.

Kaneki cried the moment they were done with the act and Touka pulled him to her chest, running her fingers through his white hair to comfort him. His arms went around her and she held him until he fell asleep.

He never thought that he'd fall so deep in love with her but he did.

--

One night, Kaneki was worried because she was late in returning home from grocery shopping and decided to check in on her at the supermarket. On the way there, he heard a familiar evil laughter and quickly turned into an alleyway. He found the gang of ghouls from his ward who was chasing after him, led by Matsuo, surrounding Touka. His eyes dilated with horror when he saw her bleeding and brought out his kagune to slit the necks of the ghouls who had their backs to him.

Touka's eyes widened at the sight of her boyfriend.

Matsuo was alerted due to the screams and smirked at him. "Oh, so you were here? We were looking all over for you and decided to ask your girlfriend when we couldn't."

He growled, anger evident in his red eyes. "What did you do to her?!"

"Oh, nothing. Asked her where you were and she refused to answer. Gave her a little injury—"

Before Matsuo could finish his sentence, Ken's kagune had flown past him, made a small cut on his cheek and pulled Touka into his arms. He gritted his teeth as he stared down at her wounds and glared at Matsuo. "I'll kill you."

"Ken, I'm okay.."

He smiled down at her. "I'll protect you. Don't worry, it'll only take a while."

With them, he narrowed his eyes at Matsuo and the gang. He was fine with being hurt but no one, no one was allowed to hurt his girlfriend. Bringing out more tentacles, he was about to attack them when a group of guys' laughter could be heard and the gang quickly retreated, knowing that they could get in trouble if they were spotted. Fights among ghouls were fine in this ward, but if a civilian was hurt in the process, they would be arrested by investigators.

--

"Doctor, please help her! She was attacked by ghouls!" Kaneki exclaimed, pleading with the doctors to save her. Touka was looking really pale now, having lost too much blood and they immediately brought her in.

After a few hours, she has finally stabilized and he was allowed to visit her in her hospital room. She was given a few stitches and although she was in pain, she forced a smile when he settled down beside her bed. He had his head down, tears dripping down his cheeks. "I'm sorry. This is all my fault—"

"It's okay. I'm alright now. The doctor said I can be discharged in a week!"

He looked at her with teary eyes. "Those guys who attacked you were the ones who injured me when you found me that night. They're after me because I killed some of their comrades in the past. You shouldn't be involved in this. It's dangerous if we continue to date, I think we should break up—"

Touka squished his cheeks with her hands and frowned. "No, I won't break up with you. I promised, didn't I? That I would stay with you."

"B-but you might get hurt again in the future. What if they came after you again?"

"I'll have you here to protect me. I'll even take up self-defense classes if you want me to. So please don't say that you want to break up." Her own tears dripped down her cheeks and he moved to hug her.

He swore on his life that he'd protect her.

--

They resumed their normal lives once Touka was discharged. The doctor advised her to stay at home for at least 3 more weeks before returning to work. She was hesitant but Kaneki insisted that she did and promised that he'd help her if she needed him. Of course, she agreed under his pressure.

While he did help her with the house chores before, now that she was injured, he did everything by himself. She needed all the time in the world to rest and he would do anything to ensure that she did. He still felt that her getting hurt was his responsibility and fault, and watched her every minute of the day even after she returned to work to make sure she was safe.

One night in bed...

With his arms around her, Touka gazed at Ken's face and caressed his cheek. "Hey, where do you see yourself in 10 years?"

He pondered for a bit before smiling down at her. "I see myself married to you and us having children together."

She grinned. "What? Are you saying you're gonna propose to me one day?"

"Someday, I will. Then we will be together forever."

--

Soon after that, Kaneki started receiving challenge letters from Matsuo, asking him to meet at a certain place for a showdown but he wasn't stupid and threw all of the letters away. It continued on for around 2 weeks and then they stopped coming.

One night, just as he was on the way to pick up Touka from work, he received a message from her.

Good evening, this is Matsuo. Since you wouldn't meet me by yourself, I have asked your girlfriend for some help. If you want her alive, come to 123 Shinjuku Warehouse.

A photo of Touka tied up by ropes was attached in the message.

His blood boiled. He'll kill all of them.

After arriving at the place, he saw the gang surrounding his girlfriend who was bound to a chair by ropes and Matsuo smirked at him. "I see you came."

"Let her go. She has nothing to do with this. If you want a fight, I'll fight you."

"We can't have you running off with her once we release her, can we? Besides, it'll be nice to see your reaction once we start playing with her." Matsuo smirked, bringing out his kagune to point at her.

Before Ken could go to her rescue, he was held down to the floor by 5 ghouls and Matsuo laughed. "Let me go, you bastard! I'll kill you!" His eyes flashed with anger.

"If you want your girlfriend unhurt, then you better do as I say."

"I rather die than--" He gasped when Matsuo placed his kagune on Touka's neck and blood started to drip down.

"You WILL do as I say." The male repeated, eyes narrowing at Ken.

Touka shook her head at him, telling him not to listen but he bit his lower lip. He had already decided that he would protect her no matter what. "Fine. Let go of her! I'll do whatever you want me to do! Just don't hurt her!"

Matsuo smirked in victory. "So romantic. First, you'll kneel down and beg me for forgiveness for causing the deaths of my friends."

Despite knowing that he was doing this on purpose, he got on his knees and apologized. But Matsuo never planned to let Touka go and ordered his men to beat Kaneki until he was happy. Each time he tried to retaliate, Matsuo would position his kagune at Touka's neck and he had no choice but to continue to receive the beating.

Tears flowed down her cheeks as she watched them kick him and stab him with their kagunes. "Stop! Ken..he'll die!"

Satisfied from seeing Kaneki all beaten up with bruises and wounds, Matsuo released Touka and she quickly ran over to him. Though Kaneki knew he couldn't regenerate anymore, he still smiled when he saw her running towards him uninjured and slowly reached a hand out to her. In the blink of an eye, she was stabbed in the stomach from behind. His eyes widened as she fell to the ground, laying on her side. "Ken..."

Gritting his teeth as tears fell down, he roared, "Curse you, Matsuo! You promised you'd let her go!"

The male only laughed.

Lightning flashed in the sky, thunder following soon after and the rain came down hard on them. Ken used one arm to drag his bloodied and weak body against the ground towards his girlfriend and cupped her cheek when he was beside her. Staring down at the huge hole in her stomach and the pool of blood that surrounded her, he knew she wouldn't make it and couldn't stop his tears from falling. "I'm sorry,  I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..!"

Touka opened her watery eyes and shook her head. "It's not your fault, Ken. You did all you could to protect me. Thank you."

He could tell that he was losing her, from her pale face and shallow breathing and sobbed even more. Pulling her into his chest, he let his tears fall and kissed her head. Touka weakly wrapped her arms around him and whispered so softly that he almost couldn't hear her. "..I love you, Ken. Thank you for everything. If I could be reborn in another life, I would still choose to spend it with you."

"M-me too. I love you, Touka. I promise that we'll be together forever in our next lives. We'll meet again, get married and have children!"

Touka smiled up at him and slowly closed her eyes. She went limp in his arms and at that moment, he knew that he lost her. Hugging her so tightly, he wept in sorrow until the flame in his own life also died out.

The couple remained in each other's arms even as they left this world.

100 years later, they were reborn as humans and even retained their memories of one another. They found each other again, and this time, they stayed together forever.

Forever is a long time, but I wouldn't mind spending it by your side.

[peace-love-piper]

(Date: 11 October 2019; Location: Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France; Part 2 of 2)

“I really don’t think we should—“

“Piper—“

“—do this Emi I—“

“Piper—“

“—have a bad feeling and I think we’re in over our heads here—“

“Piper!!”

Piper stopped her pacing back and forth inside the lift and looked imploringly at her cousin, who ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath before saying, “Look, I’ve been in this Ministry building a zillion times…not on that floor, granted, but…I can have us in and out before anyone notices a thing, okay? Can you just…trust me?”

Piper chewed on her lip. It didn’t feel right, what they were doing, she knew they could get into trouble, but…not knowing would eat away at her, and she knew it.

So down they went, to the bottom floor: Le Bureau des Secrets.

The lift doors opened to reveal a guard. “Excusez-moi, mademoiselles—“

But Emi was two steps ahead of the game; she reached out to gently grasp the man’s forearm and he stopped talking, mid-sentence, and observed her curiously, eyes glazing over slightly in that telltale manner. “Puis-je vous aider?” he said in a much more genial tone.

“Ce serait merveilleux si vous pouviez nous escorter dans la salle des dossiers confidentiels…” purred Emi sweetly, batting her lashes. Piper’s heart was in her throat, and it was all she could do to force a half-smile and not run in the opposite direction.

The guard seemed to ponder this suggestion for a moment. Then he nodded and said, “Bien sûr.”

The walked in silence down a long hallway, Emi’s hand resting in the crook of the man’s arm as if he were her escort on an evening stroll, and Piper following behind. She was so nervous she could barely breathe, let alone even attempt to take in all the plaques on the doors the passed. They finally stopped in front of one, and the guard performed some complicated, efficient wandwork that opened the wards on the door.

Emi reached out and opened the door with ease, and after her and Piper slipped inside, she pointed her wand at the man and whispered, “Obliviate,” which left him blinking absently at the closed door, wondering how he’d managed to get so lost in his own daydreams.

If it was dark up in the Records Room, in here it was as black as pure obsidian. Piper fumbled with her wand before managing to shoot up a few flickering light orbs. She opened her mouth to whisper something to Emi, but before she could, another voice from deep in the room said, “Well, what do we have here? I take it you’re not supposed to be here…”

Both girls yelped in surprise and held their wands aloft, defensively. Out of the darkness stepped a very tall, very gaunt man. His skin was a pale, almost ashen color, and his dark hair was long and tied back. The pupils in his dark eyes were huge, and they glinted in the light in an odd, menacing way.

“Parlez-vous anglais?” he said. His voice was both smooth and electric; a palm over velvet mixed with television static.

“O-oui—I…I mean, yes,” said Piper.

“Lovely. What are you doing here?”

“We, er…we’re relatives of Monsieur—“ tried Emi, but the man cut her off.

“Save your breath. Your Veela magic won’t work on me.”

Piper felt her stomach drop as realization dawned on her. This main’s energy was incredibly faint, almost imperceptible, suggesting he had extremely well-controlled emotions. But what she could pick up felt…strange, cold, unnatural…

A vampire.

Piper instinctually reached out and squeezed Emi’s hand, breathing deeply. Be brave, she told herself firmly, He’s just another Being…misunderstood, just like we are. Though to be honest, this whole lurking-underground-in-the-darkness-trying-to-frighten-people thing wasn’t doing this guy’s image any favors. Probably the way he intended it.

“Erm…how did you know, that we’re…?”

He made a scoffing noise in his throat like he was offended by the question. “Please. I could smell you the moment you walked in. Your blood, it’s…how would you say…perfumed, in a way, ambrosial…quite intoxicating, really.”

A chill crept up Piper’s spine. Emi’s nails dug into her hand.

“So I’ll ask you again: what are you doing down here?”

“P-please, Sir…” said Piper, “…we’re not here to cause any trouble, it’s just…well, our family records, you see…i-it said they’d been, er, relocated down here…”

“I see. Well, your Visitors’ Pins grant you access to the Records Room, but I highly doubt you’d be granted clearance on this level, no matter who your family is…”

Emi huffed in offense and looked as if she were about to say something, but Piper shook her head to stop her. They weren’t going to get what they wanted by trying to outsmart him, clearly, and certainly not by talking back, either.

The vampire continued: “…now, I like to think of myself as the compromising sort, yes? So the question is…what can you offer me in exchange for information? And for not reporting you to the Law Enforcement Bureau right upstairs, of course.” He smiled. His incisors—retracted, but still sharp—glinted menacingly in the light.

“Well, erm…w-what is it that you want?”

“Blood,” he replied, matter-of-factly, and Emi gasped. “A bit of blood, from either one of you, I don’t care who. Government work allows so few pleasures, you understand…”

“Absolutely fucking not!” Emi exclaimed, while at the same time Piper said, “Why?” Emi gaped at her, and Piper, ignoring her, repeated her question: “I mean…why, do you want it? I mean…don’t they allow to, erm…feed?”

The vampire laughed at her darkly. “Allow me? I’m a very old vampire, child, and I do what I please…as for the government here, yes, I’m perfectly adequately compensated for my work, if that’s what you mean.”

“Then why would you want blood from one of us?”

“Because, Little Veela…your blood doesn’t just smell intoxicating. It is intoxicating, to my kind…rumor has it that just a few drops can drive a newly turned vampire mad with bloodlust…which is why I imagine your kind are so stingy about keeping it inside your pretty little bodies…”

Piper could sense Emi absolutely seething with fury beside her, but thankfully she managed to hold her tongue.

“…Now, I myself have never had the pleasure of sampling Veela blood. And a fine opportunity seems to have presented itself, no?”

The silence was so tight it seemed to vibrate, like a plucked guitar string. Finally, Piper said, “How much?”

“Piper, no!” Emi pleaded.

“Just a sip, really…” assured the vampire, “…hardly any at all…a fraction of what you’d give at a blood bar.”

Piper pondered the idea, hard. She was…absolutely fucking petrified, no doubt about that. But…what was a little blood, in exchange for knowledge? People donated blood to vampires all the time, it wasn’t unusual at all, really… And besides, did she have a choice, really? If she didn’t agree, what would stop him from turning them in? It was their only leverage.

Finally, after a long moment, she said, “I…I’ll do it.”

“You can’t be fucking serious, Piper!” Emi argued angrily. “It’s not worth it!”

Piper turned to look her cousin in the eye and said seriously, “Yes…it is.”

Boldly, Piper stepped forward, trying to fake a sense of confidence that she simply did not possess. When she was stood before the vampire, she looked up at him and asked, “Does it, er…does it have to be the…?” She raised a hand to the side of her neck timidly, unable to form the correct words.

“The neck? No no, your wrist will do just fine.”

He held out a hand expectantly, as if he were just asking her for a dance. Lip between her teeth, Piper took a determined breath and placed a hand that was only slightly shaking face-up on his. He closed his hand firmly around hers and raised her arm upwards, hunching over slightly to meet it. And then…

Piper cried out in pain when she felt two sharp points puncture her skin. Emi surged forward behind her, but Piper held out her other hand to halt her. “It’s fine, Emi, it’s…it’s not that bad,” she said through clenched teeth. And truthfully, it wasn’t that bad…it was painful, sure, but manageable. The initial shock of it was worse than anything else.

After one long minute, though, that seemed to stretch on forever, Piper began to hear her pulse in her ears, her knees going weak. Little white spots flickered in her vision and Piper whimpered, swaying where she stood.

“That’s enough,” Emi growled.

Obligingly, the vampire released Piper’s wrist from his grasp, and she stumbled back into a hard wooden chair that she could have sworn wasn’t there a minute ago. She glanced down at her arm to see blood trickling out of two circular wounds, and she was instantly woozy. The vampire tossed something through the air and Emi caught it, and then Piper hissed as something liquid stung the puncture marks. She winced through the unpleasantness of Emi cleaning the wound and bandaging her arm, and after a moment she was left with just a dull throb that she cradled, breathing heavily.

“Alright, fuckface,” Emi spat at the vampire, “You got your pervy little snack. Now give us the file.”

“Certainly, certainly…” he replied, positively chuffed, “…name?”

“Au-auclair,” Piper said, her voice cracking slightly, “A Veela with the last name Auclair.”

She didn’t know if it was just the blood loss making her feel slower, but the vampire moved fast. In an instant he’d dropped a thick file on a table beside them with a thud.

“What do you know about the De Wit Group?” he said suspiciously.

“The…who?” Piper said with confusion, and stood up shakily to join Emi, who was opening up the file.

Upon observation, there were a few basic cover pages that were in French, but the bulk of the documents in the file were in English, as if they’d been passed on from another Ministry or organization. Silently, Piper began to read…

Name: Andries de Wit

Birth place: Netherlands/Unknown

Birth year: 1901

Type: Veela, Full-Blood, Male

Status: Terminated

Report: Founder and leader of the cult-like organization known internally as the De Wit Group, also known as the United Sunshine Association of Charmed Peoples & Ideologies. Target is considered highly dangerous and has been reported to brainwash organization members (referred to as “family” by those within the group) and disseminate propaganda encouraging civil unrest and discord between various magical groups, including between magical species, against magical governing bodies, and against non-magical folk.

None of this was making any sense to Piper, and she was about to say as much when Emi turned the page and she read the next profile:

Name: Desiree de Wit (née Auclair)

Birth place: France

Birth year: 1941

Type: Veela, Full-Blood, Female

Status: Terminated

Report: Daughter of matriarch Emilia Auclair of the Auclair Veela Line, reported by family members to be estranged/disowned after running away with de Wit at age 16. Observed to be the favorite and assumed protege of de Wit’s mistresses and the only other Veela of the group. Reports indicate Desiree as his right-hand in group operations, where he would sow seeds of discord, discontent, anger and unrest, she would beguile potential followers, serving as a honeypot to draw them in with feelings of desire, passion, and longing. Considered highly dangerous and fastidiously loyal to de Wit.

Update: Further evidence suggest that target sired two offspring by de Wit, female twins. Note that twins are considered highly coveted in Veela bloodlines. Offspring names unknown but reported to begin with letter E. Field investigations indicate offspring were intended to formally be indoctrinated into De Wit Group via ceremony of some kind, but either fled or were hidden before forced disbanding of the group. Offspring whereabouts are currently unknown but are considered subjects of interest. If found, request immediate apprehension and transport to the nearest magical governing agency for questioning.

Piper felt sick to her stomach, and panic seized her entire body. This was what they’d been hiding from her all this time? Not to lie to her, but to protect her? She was wracked by guilt, unable to imagine the trauma her aunt and mother must have experienced, the constant fear they must have lived in trying to conceal their true identities. Everything made sense now, why her mother constantly moved them around when Piper was a child, why she’d picked a random surname for them, why she was so distrustful of authority and, most of all, of men…

And Piper had put all of it in danger by coming here, looking for answers.

“Someone’s coming,” the vampire said in a calm but urgent tone. “Over there, please…” he said, indicating a dark corner behind a row of filing cabinets.

Piper was frozen where she stood, but Emi grabbed her hand and pulled her out of sight, sending a fresh throb shooting up her arm. Pressed against a wall Piper trembled uncontrollably, her mind reeling; she held her breath and pressed her hands over her nose and mouth to prevent herself sobbing.

The vampire conversed in low, rapid-fire French with someone, and Piper didn’t even attempt to follow what was being said. Then a door closed, and everything was silent.

Piper and Emi held their positions for what seemed like an eternity, but which was actually probably about thirty minutes.

When Piper felt on the verge of passing out, the vampire finally hissed, “I would leave now, if I were you. And don’t come back.”

And, feeling like they were in a fever-dream, that’s exactly what they did.

[narukuwrites]

003. Part 6

Words: 2,713 Tags: Heavar, Dracula AU, Dracula!Heahmund, Viking!Ivar, Violence, Voyeurism, Smut Summary: Heahmund keeps up appearances with the ship guests before sating his thirst, Ivar has a bath and finds himself lost in thought and aroused at the prospect of working with Heahmund and things become a bit heated between them both.

Author’s Note: Same as the previous one’s beta wise. Edits will be made accordingly when she has seen to them.

Walking away from Ivar’s cabin Heahmund feeling pleased with how things how turned out, now he was confident that with the young northerner’s assistance he would succeed in completely bringing The Order to its knees. He smirked at that and saw that in many ways, Ivar could be seen as his bloody, angel of death, there was so much darkness in him and he felt it was serendipitous that the other was on his side. He might have been a creature of the night and forced to skulk in the shadows but there was something truly primal and raw within Ivar. Something he wanted to fully bring out and nurture, how odd this feeling of fondness of someone he’d only met. It was something he’d never felt, in all his long years and not since his beloved Ilona.

Heahmund had made his way towards where the first class lounge and as he neared it the music coming from the band that was playing became louder and he effortlessly put up his charming guise as he entered into the room, where groups of the upper class and wealthy people conversed and sipped at wine and champagne. He would not find a meal of sorts here no, he had to keep his up his appearance and as such  walked amongst them all socialising and chatting amicably, his natural charm and courteous manner made him approachable and he garnered as always many admiring gazes and he smiled back at those who did, causing a couple of ladies to blush and look embarrassed and titter with each other.

To everyone here on the boat, at least in first class, he was Alexander Greyson wealthy American entrepreneur, charming and confident. Naturally, there were those jealous of him also, mainly the men but he wasn’t too bothered by them. Once he had spent a fair enough amount of time to not arouse suspicion he made his way out of the loud music room and was grateful to be going somewhere, a little quieter. The lower decks, where the poorer people were relegated and kept, their ilk were separated from those in first class and there was less lighting down there also, and a lot of darkness and it was a perfect place to find a meal to sustain him. He wanted to be quick though, the thought of seeing Ivar naked in a bathtub was a rather enticing prospect in itself.

--

The bath had taken some time to fill up and that had given Ivar time to think about everything that had happened. He was filled with rage and anger at the fact, the whole of Kattegat had planned this, to get rid of him and the fact they had done so, in such a manner. The betrayal from everyone he had protected and looked after - perhaps it had been Bjorn’s influence. But no that couldn’t have been right, there was no way his brother was clever enough to think of such a thing. Whatever it had been, Ivar would make sure they would suffer terribly once he was done with assisting Heahmund in his endeavors.

There had been some kinds of strange scented liquid to put into the bath but Ivar didn’t need something like that and he instead went for the bath salts, those would be enough. This place that he had found himself quite literally thrown into, would take some for him to adjust to. He was more fond of the simpler life and the grandeur of all of this, made him wonder just how much of his amassed fortune and spoils of war had been given to whoever owned this ship. No doubt a fair sum and even if it had meant he was given a nice room, it still in many ways felt like an opulent prison of sorts. But then he found himself thinking about the boat itself, he was on.

This ship was one that was unlike any he had ever seen before larger than any Floki could have made. Perhaps this was one of those advancements that Heahmund had talked about? And if that was the case just what would he get to see in London, no doubt a very different landscape - but he was sure regardless of the territory and landscape he would come up with a plan that would work to ensure the downfall of those whom Heahmund sought revenge against. Ivar would find out what the name of what kind of creature his new companion was, he found himself wanting to know as much as possible about him.

From what he had pieced together it was a life that had been forced upon Heahmund. But why? Perhaps as a punishment or to make a statement? How had they done such a thing? There were still so many variables and things he hadn’t quite figured out, but he would in time. Just as he always did. But he knew one thing - he would make all them pay for their transgressions against his partner.

He found himself excited though at the thought of being in the midst of such chaos and battle would be glorious and he grinned manically at that thought before divesting the rest of his attire and gracelessly slipping into the bath and letting out a hiss at the heat of the water, before he settled to the temperature and leaned back and shut his eyes. The heat permeating his body was divine and he found himself being lulled into a more relaxed and pliant state and was thrilled at the fact, that very soon he would plotting devious ways to ensure the downfall of Heahmund’s enemies. London would run red with blood and he would bathe in the midst of it, like a cleansing benediction and offerings to the gods.

--

The difference between the first and lower class decks was stark in contrast, many people of all ages and walks of life cramped together, there were cabins of course but basic and simple. Various chatter filtered through their air, the crying of the odd baby and little child adding to the symphony of noise and the smell wasn’t pleasant but nevertheless here he would find someone and their absence would not go unnoticed, so he waited in the shadows watching his eyes taking in each and every one of them, those who were travelling alone would be his main objective and luckily from what he could see there were a few he could choose from, all of them men mind you but Heahmund wasn’t choosy when it came to this sort of thing. Blood was blood and he did wonder that maybe at some point, he could convince Ivar to let him drink from the young northerner, because that taste, Ivar’s blood had been absolutely divine. One taste had not been enough, he felt himself wanting more.

And at that thought he felt the bloodlust rising and so he whispered into the mind of young man, he was unordinary and plain but susceptible to his suggestions and he lured him to follow into the darkness of the lower depths being mindful not to bring too much attention to it but thankfully a lot of people in this area seemed to be dozing and resting and when the man was close enough he grabbed the other before retracting his fangs and immediately sinking his teeth into the man’s neck, holding his hand over the mans mouth to muffle his cries as he drank deep and long and although it wasn’t the blood he truly desired, he would make do with this for now. And when the body was lifeless he carried it towards the deeper bowels of the boat and threw it into one of the furnaces before making his way back towards where Ivar was. He had dallied long enough and wanted to see Ivar wholly.

--

Not too surprisingly the thought of all the blood and violence caused his body to naturally react and although he was a cripple, he was still very much capable of getting an erection and experiencing pleasure. Such thoughts tended to get a reaction from his body and that was perfectly natural, Ivar was not ashamed of that fact, He was no virgin by any means but sex wasn’t something he found himself finding a great need or want for, he found both women and men attractive of course and the fact that Heahmund’s face came into his mind caused him to let out a happy sigh.

There was no denying that Heahmund was attractive to look at, indeed there had been something between them earlier - of that he was certain, it felt electric almost. And he glanced down at his arousal which didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon and decided that he would have to take care of it and he knew exactly who he would be thinking of.

And so he wrapped his hands around his sizeable length licking his lips before closing his eyes and stroking himself in a languid manner letting out a moan as he pictured Heahmund in front of him, naked and aroused and staring at him with almost luminous eyes and murmuring him praises on his knees and wrapping his lips around his length and he felt himself let out a loud groan as the familiar feeling of what he felt from his dream earlier, assaulted his senses and his mind....

Heahmund had soundlessly once more made his way into Ivar’s cabin and could smell the arousal and soft sounds of pleasure coming from the bathroom of the cabin which he gravitated to making little noise as he did so. Ivar was too distracted to notice his presence, seeking his own pleasure and he took this moment to take in every inch of Ivar that was exposed to him. His upper body was built, and compact no doubt due to having to compensate for his lower body, but even that was sculpted and absolute perfection.

Ivar had been shaped by his world and the life he lived and he wondered if Ivar would be upset or aroused at knowing he was watching, the younger touch himself and he was curious as to what exactly Ivar was thinking about or indeed whom - and so he once more delved into Ivar’s mind and chuckled at what the other was envisioning. Ivar was thinking of him and well that needed a reward of sorts.

“Oh, I will happily partake of your flesh…” Heahmund replied with a grin as he took Ivar’s length into his mouth, his face shifting into his vampyr one sucked and licked, making sure to drag his fangs along the engorged flesh of Ivar’s length, and using his tongue to lick the entirety of his shaft and wrapping his hands around the base before taking Ivar into his mouth once more. moving them both synchronously and all too soon bringing Ivar to orgasm.

Fuck it all felt so real, Ivar found himself being overwhelmed with feeling, desire and want and although he was stroking himself in a harder manner now, he could still feel that warmth, wet heat of Heahmund’s mouth and let out a loud groan as he hit his release and dirtied his water with his release, before he opened his eyes and found himself looking at a smug looking Heahmund. And he couldn’t find himself being mad at the other, in fact, it was nice to know that not only had Heahmund being an audience he had participated it in as well, in a manner of speaking.

“You are lucky I have no weapons to throw at you..” Ivar replied with a dark grin before carrying on and commenting on the fact Heahmund looked a bit more flush with colour than normal. “...I take it have had your fill then, it is good to see you have more colour in your cheeks..” he teased before deciding that he was done with his bath now, as the water was starting to cool and began to pull himself out of it and he found himself surprised that he didn’t lash out as he normally would as Heahmund came into space and offered him assistance with the action. Perhaps he hadn’t because he knew that this wasn’t being done out of pity for the fact Ivar was a cripple.

Or maybe that subconsciously wanted Heahmund’s hands would be on him. Just the thought of having Heahmund’s hands on him though sent a shiver of want through Ivar which he chose to ignore for now as best he could and let Heahmund help him out of the bath before carrying him bridal style, like a maiden one he’d dried himself off enough with a large cloth, which was a lot softer than ones he used in Kattegat.

“I find myself glad then, but I cannot help but feel throwing things is your way of showing affection and yes I did, thank you for noticing, you did taste truly divine...” Heahmund replied back in the same teasing manner finding himself a lot more at ease now around Ivar. He was thankful that his intrusion hadn’t been seen as an offence to Ivar, he knew that privacy was something he should respect but he had a feeling that since he had made a blood pact and oath with Ivar, that made whatever this was - more than just an ordinary partnership and as such normal things like that didn’t apply. When he saw that Ivar was moving his form into a position to pull himself out of the bath he didn’t want to insult the younger by offering to help him, but at the same time it was an ideal time to touch Ivar and feel him, such an opportunity was something he didn’t want to miss.

Heahmund was pleasantly surprised to find that Ivar didn’t react badly to his offer of helping and he found himself uncaring that his expensive attire would perhaps be ruined as he handed Ivar a towel, that the younger used to dry himself with roughly before he with ease lifted and carried Ivar from the bathroom and onto the bed, before placing him down on it and finding himself unable to let the other go as he should do. But instead, Heahmund found himself instinctively closing the space between them both and intimately brushing his lips against Ivar’s own and chuckling at the words that came from those alluring lips of his.

Ivar found all of this very surreal and when he realised that Heahmund had placed him on the bed but hadn’t yet let go of him, his piercing blue eyes met startling red ones and he found himself suddenly feeling a little bit light headed as Heahmund lowered his head and brushed his lips against his own causing a shiver of desire to go through him once again and on instinct he chose to make a comment that would no doubt cause a reaction within the other. “Do you perhaps want me Heahmund? I do not blame you, I am indeed a force to be reckoned with...” he said murmured against Heahmund’s lips.

“I wanted you the moment I saw you brought upon this vessel..” Heahmund replied as he let go of Ivar finally and ripped away the towel that was covering Ivar’s well defined and beautifully carved body, exposing it to the coolness of the cabin as the other’s skin responded with goose-pimpling, and he let his hands wander and caress as he pulled Ivar into a deep, hungry kiss that the younger responded beautifully too, before he with a growl pulled away to nuzzle and lick at that delicious neck that was now exposed to him. He would not bite or claim Ivar of course, but the smell of Ivar it was divine, like the finest wine.

“Your blood it sings to me, ever since we made that oath..” Heahmund added as his face shifted and he felt Ivar’s hands guide him away from his neck as he shifted into his true guise and saw that he was being looked at with, awe and desire. Before being pulled into a kiss, this time with Ivar taking control...

[hankypranky]

Word count: 1676

Summary:  A door appears in the bunker leading to a bedroom with Gabriel’s comatose body. Sam crosses the threshold, unaware that he cannot return until Gabriel is conscious and strong enough to bridge the gap back into the bunker.

Characters: Sam Winchester, Castiel, Jack, Gabriel

Warnings: Olfactory sensitivities, Wing Kink, Bonding

Part 1 Part 2

Part 3

With no windows, Sam had no conception of the time. The taste in his mouth indicated he slept for at least a few hours. Feeling more coherent, he rinsed out his mouth and inspected Gabriel’s wings. The top, or rather back side had been fully preened, but he was presented with a dilemma. How was he to work through the underside?

He prayed to Castiel, within a minute Cas was at the door. “How are you doing Sam?”

“I think… I think I'm good. Gabriel is here, just not back yet.

Cas jutted his chin out a bit, “Have you been praying to him?”

Sam blushed, “Uh, no.”

“You should sing to him while cleanse his feathers.” Staring into the distance Castiel reminisced, “Back in heaven, before the fall of the Morningstar, we would preen each other. We would sing our love of our father. It was like nothing else.”

Sam wondered how much he missed heaven. If he wanted Dean to groom him as he had with Gabriel. He remained silent.

“Why did you call for me?”

“Well, I'm not sure how to do the underside. I don't know if I can flip him. I don't know how his wings will bend being unconscious.”

“That is a pickle.” Sam raised an eyebrow at the expression. “I can't see his wings, but I can imagine how they must be sprawled out. His wings will naturally retract to a more compact position, so all you need to do is fold them back… Then you should be able to roll him over onto his back. Unfurl them on at a time.” He gestured to the chair and table. “Make sure the weight is supported. “His joints are strong, you only need to be concerned about his primaries.”

“Thanks. Hey, how long have I been in here?”

Castiel frowned, “Almost 2 days. Can I get you anything?”

“Some coffee would be nice, and a sandwich?” Sam ran his tongue over his teeth, “Actually, can you bring my toothbrush too?”

“Ok. I will see what I can come up with.”

Castiel wasn't gone very long before he returned with a bag. “I'm sorry, I couldn't find a way to prevent coffee grounds from mixing in the water pot. There is beer and liquor in there instead.” A little smiled formed on his lips. “Cas continued, “Also, I figured you may want to assemble your own sandwich, everything you would need is in the bag.” He handed it through the threshold.

“Thanks. Any news on Michael?”

His eyes hardened, “No. I believe he is lying low, organizing.”

Sam nodded. “We’ll get through this Cas, we always do.”

Castiel’s face turned red. “How can you say that? You know how futile it is! It's Michael, in his true vessel!”

Castiel’s anger was not a surprise. Sam’s voice was low, “It’s not futile. Our track record isn't the greatest, but Dean is still breathing, so I count that as a win. If anyone has the will power to regain control, its Dean.” Cas pressed his fingers to his forehead and hissed in a breath. Sam wished he could put his hand on his shoulder, to comfort him a little, but couldn't. “Do me a favor?” Cas stared at him expectantly, “Take a shower and put on clean clothes? It will help.”

“I'll take that under advisement,” Cas scoffed. Sam felt a shift in Cas’ mood, “You're doing well with Gabriel. I can tell he is doing better.”

Sam agreed, “I think he is too.”

Castiel’s pursed his lips, “Sing to him.” With his final words spoken, he walked away.

Sam decided to venture into the bag Cas brought. There was a 5 pack of beer, whiskey, a head of lettuce, a few loose slices of bread, a can of raspberry jam, and a knife. Was he supposed to eat a lettuce and jelly sandwich?

Next time he was going to have to ask Cas to order a pizza. It didn't stop him from eating a slice of bread with the jam, washing it with a warm beer. For as long as Cas has been on Earth, it was still surprising how little he understood about food.

Treating it like it was the morning, Sam hopped into the shower. Afterwards, he inspected his reflection in the mirror, a towel wrapped around his hips. His calloused fingers rubbed at the scruff on his face. He was only days away from having an actual beard. The dark circles under his eyes were slightly alarming, but that was his life now. He pulled out the hairbrush that Jack had given him and ran it through his mane.

Having more energy, Sam followed Castiel’s instructions. He used his whole body to lift his wings to allow them to retract. Sliding Gabriel to one side of the bed, Sam was able to roll him over so he didn’t fall off the edge. Then he centered his body, straightening the sheets around him. Still unconscious, his appearance was closer to a deep sleep, than death. Sam fetched his hair brush. Slowly, he brushed Gabriel’s golden locks, lifting his head to make sure he combed all of his hair. Setting the brush down, he massaged his neck. Kneading his fingers up to his earlobes, and then gently tugging on them. He could have sworn he had seen his lip twitch, but he didn’t want to get excited.

Taking a break, Sam sat in the chair and had another beer. He wondered how angels took care of their wings. Was it their grace?

The task before him was monumental. It would probably be another two days before he would be done. Seeing the contrast between the two sides, he felt accomplished with the care he put in.

Self doubt began to creep in the longer he sat there. Would he have enough time to finish before the spell wore off? Would Gabe come return to his body before he was done? Would he feel violated?

The small connection they had formed pulsed in annoyance. Sam stood and went to sit on the bed. Burrowing one of his hands into Gabriel's wings, he scratched an apology and felt a surge of reassurance travel into him. Sam smirked in response and set about preening his interior wings. Their bond merily humming away.

For hours he worked, until exhaustion took root. The turned off the light and laid down on top of Gabriel’s wings, nestling into his side. Having an understanding of their structure now, he wasn't afraid of hurting him. He nuzzled his head into Gabriel's side and inhaled deeply. The aroma of his newly manicured wings filling his loneliness and melting his worries away, he fell asleep within moments.

He felt suspended, as if he were rocking back in forth in an ocean of comfort. He wished the feeling would never end.

The line between reality and dream was blurred when he woke. He snuggled into Gabriel further and clung to the sensation.

When he couldn't deny he was still dreaming, he prayed. ‘Gabriel, I've never felt like this in my whole life. It's been so long since… since I've even held someone.’

A surge of what he could only be described as love stuttered through. Sam relished in it, with small circular motions, he rubbed his hand over Gabriel’s bare chest and returned the emotion.

Their connection settled back to one of peace, stronger than before. Sam sat up and checked for sign of consciousness, but there was none. He checked his pulse, and it was steady.

Sam sighed, and went through his morning routine. He couldn't eat, he knew Gabriel was there, would be coming back soon. His heart skipped a beat at the thought of his return. Things between them had changed, but he didn't know what that meant for them. Would it be like Cas and Dean? No, he wouldn't eye fuck him for years. He would have to make a move. That alone made his stomach do flips.  Would he outlive him? Could he be so patient? When they got Dean back, would they really retire?

A shock came through and stopped his internal musing. That was later. Gabriel had not returned yet, and he basically just told him to shut up.

He took a shot of the Jameson Castiel gave him, and chased it with a beer. Suddenly he was filled with warmth, but wasn't sure if it was their connection or the booze.

Getting back to his task, he moved the chair so he could completely unfurl Gabriel's left wing. The sheer size of his primaries amazed him. Some of them were two feet in length. The milkshake lyrics popped back into his head. Instead of singing that song, he thought about music he actually enjoyed.

Cat Stevens always put him in a good mood. He didn't feel so silly this time. He began to sing, “If you want to sing out, sing out If you want to be free be free Cause there's a million things to be”

As he stroked his fingers through the ruffles of feathers, the strum of contentment was blossomed under his touch. He sang louder and worked his way through the underside. They looked much less frail now that he was done with the larger ones.

You can do what you want The opportunity's on And if you can find a new way You can do it today You can make it all true And you can make it undo You see, ah ah ah It's easy, ah ah ah You only need to know

There was a surge of power and he had to close his eyes. He grasped that feeling and pulled it towards him. It was then that Gabriel sucked in a deep breath.

Sam ran to the side if the bed too see he was awake. Gabriel's honey orbs staring back at his hazel eyes. He clasped the sides of his head and whispered his name.

Gabriel licked his lips. His voice raspy, “You saved me.”

[welllpthisishappening]

Hey! I absolutely love the blue line series, I’m obsessed with the actual Rangers because of this and your writing is wonderful. I was wondering if you write something about Robin, Regina and Roland’s relationship with Henry? Or anything about Henry’s life as a member of the Locksley-Mills family.

Of course, anon! So I was going to do some bullet points because I’ve got some thoughts and, like, Roland idolizes Henry when they’re growing up and Henry only ever wears a Jones jersey, but he plays center like Robin and he’s pretty good at hockey, even if he never goes pro and…I digress. I wrote some things instead. Time-wise, Henry’s 18 and getting ready to apply to college and here are some feelings. 

“Hello?”

Emma blinked, twisting her lip between her teeth and she wasn’t entirely prepared for the clipped tone on the other end of the phone.

“Emma,” Regina said, and she sat up straighter. The baby in her arms didn’t entirely appreciate that. “Emma,” Regina repeated. “I can see your name on the caller ID. I know it’s you. Unless it’s Matt and then Matt, I need you to give your mom back your phone. And tell your dad to respond to my e-mails.”

“What e-mails?” Emma asked.

“I knew it was you.”

“Are you negotiating endorsements with my four year old?”

“Certainly not if I can help it.”

Emma laughed under her breath, mumbling a string of nonsense into the tiny bit of dark hair in her arms and she was fairly positive her left leg was going to go numb. They had a game later that night – a few weeks removed from Christmas and Peggy’s first birthday and Emma had spent the majority of the day organizing several Garden of Dreams holiday-themed events, while trying to make sure that the towel on her shoulder stayed on her shoulder.

And reading Henry’s college application essay.

And not crying over Henry’s college application essay.

Which was why she’d twisted herself into an intricate human pretzel and called Regina, several tear-stained pages on her desk.

She’d totally failed on that whole not crying thing.

“Emma,” Regina muttered, and it was clear her patience was wearing thin. “Did you call me to discuss your husband’s endorsement deals? Because there’s a commercial that’s available and they want to use the entire first line and—“

“—No, no, I didn’t,” Emma interrupted. She could almost see Regina’s eyebrows jump, and Peggy made a noise that might have been a gurgle. The towel was working harder than any professional hockey player would that night.

“Then what’s going on?”

Emma grimaced – and she was sure Regina’s eyes widened and her lips probably thinned and they weren’t really the best of friends, but Regina did regularly influence the amount of money coming into the Swan-Jones household and Emma was, at least, ninety-six percent positive half of Matt’s clothes were in Roland’s room and…

“I do have a meeting in ten minutes,” Regina said sharply, and Emma clicked her teeth in frustration. “So unless someone is dying or there’s a career-ending injury I need to be aware of, then…”

“Oh my God, Gina, it’s nothing like that.”

Emma assumed she did something ridiculous with her face again. Probably glared at open air. And negotiated that commercial deal. Emma would have to mention that to Killian.

He was absolutely ignoring his e-mail.

“Then what’s going on?” Regina asked, voice not quite as sharp and, maybe, a little cautious, and Emma tried to take a deep breath through her nose.

Peggy made that noise again.

“Henry gave me his college application essay,” Emma said, rushing over the words and there were tears in her eyes again. What a goddamn disaster. She hoped they won later.

“Oh.”

Emma waited for the rest of it – the questions or comments or pointed opinions – but there was just silence. Or, relative silence. Peggy gurgled.

“Regina,” Emma mumbled, met with a sound that might have been a grunt or possibly a huff and she was going to have to make a list of all the things she had to tell Killian about this conversation.

“Still here,” she whispered. She sounded disappointed. “Were you just calling to tell me?”

“No, no, this is…I promise it’s good.”

More silence.

More gurgling.

“I’m serious,” Emma added, digging her heels into her office carpet and she heard the ding of Regina’s computer from several blocks downtown.

“Did you e-mail me this?”

“Yes.”

“Why? If Henry gave it to you then—“

“Oh my God, Regina, just read it. I swear this is a good thing.”

Regina hummed in disbelief, and there was the pointed opinion Emma had been waiting for. It took, by her count, forty-eight and a half seconds for Regina’s breath to audibly catch and mumble a quiet oh under her breath and she must have been some kind of speed reader.

And then Regina sniffled.

That was suddenly point number one on the list of things Emma had to tell Killian. Before the game.

“Henry wrote this?” Regina asked softly, and Emma nodded, well aware that the only person who could see her was a nearly-one-year-old baby who was already wearing a Jones jersey and yanking on a Stanley Cup ring with a surprising amount of strength.

“That’s why I figured you should read it.”

“Right, right, right, that’s um…thank you.”

Emma hummed, eyes flitting back to the sheets she’d printed out hours before. He was going to send it half a dozen schools – something about a guidance counselor’s advice and what was supposed to happen and Emma didn’t have much to add, just promised she’d read it and then she cried when she read it and, well, now she was pretty positive Regina was crying too.

When I was five years old, the foster home I was living in lost its cable subscription. I don’t know why. I’m not even sure the people running the house knew why, but it happened and there was no more Disney channel and no more Nickelodeon and the only thing to watch on a Sunday afternoon were over the air channels.

And the only thing on over the air channels on a Sunday afternoon was hockey.

New York Rangers hockey.

I should probably thank whoever forgot to pay that cable bill because that game changed my life.

I watched the game. I had no idea what was going on. It didn’t matter. I watched, and ignored the other kids and how much they wanted to watch Power Rangers instead, and when I turned ten I got my first Killian Jones jersey.

I never thought much about having a family.

Those kinds of thoughts were dangerous in foster homes – places where kids weren’t wanted or needed or, sometimes, even remembered. So I pushed those wants and those hopes into the back corner of my mind and figured if the Rangers could, eventually, win a Stanley Cup it was, basically, the same thing.

But then something happened.

A few weeks before I turned twelve, a call came to the house. There was an event. At Madison Square Garden. And I was going.

I cried.

The kids made fun of me, but they always made fun of how loudly I cheered during games, so it wasn’t much different. I went to the Garden and a woman named Emma Swan changed my life. She introduced me to Killian Jones and Killian Jones introduced me to the entire New York Rangers roster and, even though I didn’t know it at the time, I met my family that day.

I still didn’t think about it much, couldn’t let myself hope or dream, but the Rangers kept winning games and I kept watching and suddenly I wasn’t just cheering for hockey, I was part of hockey and part of a team and I never left.

Emma Swan changed my life. Killian Jones changed my life. But my parents saved my life.

Robin Locksley currently owns the Rangers all-time face-off win record. Regina Mills-Locksley currently dictates the contracts of nearly a dozen NHL stars and will, probably, get the entire Rangers first line another commercial deal by the time you read this essay.

But, more than that, Robin and Regina took me into their home and made sure I stayed. They gave me a room. They bought me team-march. They didn’t mind when I kept wearing that ratty Jones jersey for years.

They loved me.

Love me. Present tense.

I’m lucky. Incredibly so. Unbelievably so. The New York Rangers saved the foster home I grew up in; made sure the other kids who weren’t as lucky wouldn’t get shipped around the country or away from their friends when budget cuts threaten to do just that. The New York Rangers won the Stanley Cup. Twice. And I was there. Twice.

I’m lucky, but more than that I’m happy - and it wouldn’t have been possible without my mom or my dad or my brother or that entire hockey team that adopted me. That loves me. And I love ‘em right back.

That’d probably get me made fun of in the house again, but I’ll keep cheering anyway and keep believing and the Rangers are going to win another Cup. 

Soon.

There was more – more words and more feelings and Emma couldn’t read it again, because she really did have to get ready for the game, but Regina was silent again on the other end.

“If I ask if you’re still here are you going to retract Killian’s commercial offer?” Emma asked, not entirely expecting Regina’s quiet laugh.

“No, he’s the focus of the whole goddamn thing. Don’t tell Scarlet that.”

“I’m totally going to tell Scarlet that.”

“Ah, well, that might be good for his ego.” Emma hummed, waiting for the rest of it and determined not to ask anything else, and she was almost hopeful Peggy had fallen asleep. She had a few assumptions though. And maybe a bit of hope. “That’s the first time he’s used those words,” Regina said, answering the question Emma hadn’t asked. “I know you were wondering, so, there.”

“So there?”

“Yes, exactly that.”

Emma scoffed, Regina exhaling like it was the first time she’d ever done anything like that. “You guys haven’t…”

“It wasn’t…” Regina, started, cutting herself off quickly, and they seriously had to win. Maybe that should have been number one on the list of things to tell Killian. “It was just a label and words and letters and I’ve…Robin and I are Henry’s parents. We have been since we signed those papers and I just…”

She sniffled again, and this whole conversation was a fantastic exercise in patience and emotion. “I always kind of wondered how it’d sound though,” she whispered.

“Pretty damn good,” Emma said.

“Yeah, yeah, it does.”

“He’s going to get accepted to every single college he applies to so you should really work on that commercial thing for the money or whatever.”

“Those are absolutely the technical terms,” Regina laughed, any tension in her voice disappearing. “Tell your husband to answer my e-mails.”

“Tell your kid he made me cry. More than one.”

“Deal.”

The Rangers won. And Robin scored. And there was probably some kind of fate involved in that, but this was the kind of team that won Stanley Cups and gold medals and team wasn’t really the right word anyway because it was a family and that was stupid emotional.

And years later, after more stories and that guaranteed championship, Henry asked Ella to marry him, bent on one knee with that family he’d never allowed himself to hope for around him and a ring pinched in between his fingers.

“It’s my mom’s,” he said, and Regina’s gaze flitted towards Emma’s, tears in her eyes and a smile on her face and Henry’s whole life changed all over again.

[everlarkficexchange]

The Pack

Written by: @alliswell21

Rating: Currently General. Future Explicit. This fic will have at least one more chapter, that will most likely be continued over at AO3.

Prompt 28: The majority of the district are werewolves but it’s forbidden to speak out loud about it. Katniss and Peeta are mates. (Follow real wolves traits; packs, behaviors, mates, knotting, in heat) [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Warnings: Vague descriptions of injury. Werewolves. In Panem AU. No Games.

Summary: Everlark meets after a very bumpy night. 

Acknowledgements: @savvylark thank you for lending me your beta magic again… I love your comments! @everlarkingjoshifer, Your banner is just amazing! thank you so much for making it and all the other ones I didn’t use… you should post them :). @animekpopxx, you have an extraordinarily beautiful brain, churning up all this awesome prompts! hopefully you like this one too! @xerxia31, thanks for nudging me into the right direction, you have no idea how much it meant to me that you thought I could do the prompt justice! Also @xerxia31 and @javistg for organizing EFE, I’m having the time of my life reading the wonderful fics around.

>*+*<

Nobody knows how the epidemic started.

  There are theories, of course, that the Capitol released an infected mutt in the wilderness that somehow came in contact with a district dweller ages ago. The infection spread like wildfire before anyone could do a thing about it.

  No one speaks of it openly.

  It’s taboo to bring it up in conversation; but every lunar cycle, our bodies go through a painful shift, lending us a lupine form for the duration of the full moon.

  The cycle begins tonight.

  The pack follows the arch of the moon, crawling across the sky, full and bright. Our swift legs lead us up a well-known worn path until we reach the highest point of the hillside.

  My father, being one of the elders, howls a sonorous, almost musical call that rest of the pack responds with yips, yelps and woofs.

  Wolves come from all sides of the woods to merge in a circle, hopping, strutting and dancing under the moon that bathes everything as far as the eye can see in light. But the excitement only lasts a few minutes. We only have a handful of hours before sunrise and a whole district to feed.

  In a matter of minutes we divide in groups and disperse back into the wilderness to hunt. The voracious hunger pressing in our bellies spurs us to find prey we can only hunt tonight, while we have the strength and drive of the wolf on our side.

  This season we will comb and explore the eastern ridge of the hillside and the woods beyond, leaving the rest of the forest untouched. This is how we can guarantee the preservation and population size of our food sources.

  As my father always says, “No sense running amok like we’re only instinctive, mindless beasts consuming every living creature in the woods. That’ll just kill our livelihood, then where would we be? As long as you respect other creatures‘ right to live, Mother Nature will provide for you, Katniss.”

  This wisdom has helped us endure even the harshest times, when prey is scarce and food is down to slim pickings.

  My father howls again, but this time the call is just for me. My name is Katniss Everdeen, I’m 13 years old, and I’m hunting down a rabbit for supper; but I’m still learning the ropes. Tracking, foraging, chasing, flushing out my marks have been all easy, what the elders call “the makings of a good hunter,” but my father doesn’t want me to be just “good.” He wants me to be “heck darn exceptional.”

  So besides the basics of hunting, father wants me learn patience, respect and ‘foresight.’ I’m not completely sure what the last means, but I guess is important because he talks of it an awful lot when we hunt during the day… He’s also teaching me to hunt during daytime, with weapons and tools so we have fresh meat even when the moon isn’t full.

  Everyone in the district has two jobs, one we do for the Capitol while the sun shines: mining coal, tending crops or cattle, making fabrics, or tinkering with machines, anything the Capitol people need to live, we work for; then there’s our other job, the one that truly matters for our survival. We do it during the full moon when our bodies stop being people bodies, and we walk on four legs and furry paws.

  My job is to hunt, just like my father before me and his father before him. We all feel the same quickening of the blood, the euphoria that takes over our senses and all that matters is the chase and catch. The only word I can describe it as is exciting. But father wants me to keep my head when the animal takes over my body. He says that our minds are still ours whatever we look on the outside, so he’s teaching me and other youngsters to hunt in the right mindset.

  That’s his job I guess, to make sure we are still ourselves in our heads while we are physically different.

  My father grunts when I return. I’m anxiously pacing in front of him, because my bunny could be very well gone by now, but he commands me to sit for a moment, attempting to explain through snorts and growling yawns something about keeping my distance and sniff out the air for other predators, but I’m growing impatient.

  We are the top of the food chain during the full moon, maybe this lesson applies during daylight hunting, but right now my rabbit hops from under the brush and I take off without heeding my father’s calls.

  I’ve frighten the rabbit in my haste. I see it jump into a bush and makes a dash beyond what I assume to be its burrow, so I take a big leap after it.

  As a hunter, I’m built with long, strong hind legs that end in elongated paws with short, flexible toes sort of like human feet, except I have retractable claws for toenails. I’m slim and nimble, and I can easily clear the bush obstructing my way in one jump, but the terrain on the other side is basically a crumbling slope. I can’t stop myself from sliding to the bottom of the hill.

  When I’m sure footed on a grassy patch of earth, I shake myself of dust and twigs and other debris. I can hear my father at the top of the hill barking at me to get back up the hill. I scan the drop for a path up, and notice a bunch of openings on the side of the mountain on the far side. I’m not stupid. Father has told me to stay away from caves unless I’m with an adult, and a scout has given it a looksy first.

  I plan to give it a wide berth. I’ve filled my quota of recklessness for the day. I’ll be a good, obedient girl for the rest of the night.

  My father it’s getting impatient at the top of the hill. I think he’s started to look for a way down, and I see the heads of the rest of our hunting party pop one by one over the edge.

  This is humiliating!

  I start climbing up, but the dirt under my paws is loose and I slide back down. I try again with the same results, and then I fall on my bottom so hard that I have to sit and whimper for a moment.

  But my foolish noise called attention to myself.

  My party above began calling, howling and crying in order to warn me of the danger; as if I couldn’t smell the foul best myself! I’m just surprised at how fast everything happened.

  One second I’m on my ass whimpering, the next there’s a gigantic, angry bear charging me. I’m bigger that the average wolf, but I’m still a juvenile lycanthrope, I couldn’t fight a fully grown bear on my own, but I don’t have to! My first reaction is to cower by the rocky wall, close my eyes and wait to be mauled, but I hear the loud, heavy thud of a body landing in front of me.

  I’m not quite sure who it is. I don’t recognize his smell, but it is pleasant even for a werewolf: cinnamon and dill over fur. I think if this is the last thing I smell before dying, it’s okay.

  I crack one eye open, and see my savior fighting the bear. I’m completely shocked to see another juvenile, no larger than myself, but he’s vicious, strong and fast.

  They go at each other, full body slams, teeth and fangs sinking on thick fur, sharp claws looking to tear chunks of skin and flesh. My young kin gains the upper paw suddenly, jumping over a boulder and throwing his full weight on the back of the bear. He takes a bite of the brutes hide, and shakes his head violently, causing the bear to growl in pain. Then the bear swings an arm backwards, and catches the wolf’s leg and throws him off with little effort.

  The young wolf yelps in pain, smacking onto a jagged rock and the beast rushes to finish him off, but out of nowhere a second wolf jumps between them. This one I recognize immediately. It’s my father!

  He bares his big, sharp teeth accompanied by the low rumbling of his growl. The bear stops for a moment, studies this new challenger, and charges with renewed fury. My father dodges the attack easily, and draws the fight away from me and the other wolf, who is still trying to find his footing on the ground.

  I’m watching with horror frozen to my spot. My father is definitely larger than me and the other juvenile, but he’s a hunter, not a protector. His body is built for chasing and stalking, not for fighting off threats. The bear could still cause him major damage if he’s not careful, but father is smart and more agile than his agresor and soon he’s backed the beast a few feet away, back into the thick of the woods.

  I seek our chance.

  I approach my rescuer and nudge his side with my nose. He snaps a bite before realizing I’m friendly. He tries to follow me but after two steps he collapses heavily. He tries to stand up once more, but barks in pain and falls under his weight. His leg is badly hurt.

  I go back to him, wiggle my body under his front legs and try to help him up, but I was wrong about us being roughly the same size. He’s bigger and heavier than I am. I can’t see him very well from this angle, so I’m not sure if he belongs with the group of hunters or not.

  Every individual in the pack has a specialized job, and each of us belong to subgroup with a particular task. We have hunters, scouts, protectors, nannies and pups. Compared to common wolves, our ranks are very differently organized. We don’t have just one overall Alpha we have submit to, but a Council of Elders that decide together what’s best for the pack.

  Maybe my benefactor was just a trainee patrolling the hunting grounds, though that seems unlikely. Neither protectors nor scouts send juveniles out to patrol on their own.

  A more likely situation could be that he is a rover.

  Sometimes when young wolves comes from human parents they don’t immediately know where they belong, neither what are their strengths or abilities, so they rotate around each group to test themselves until they find where they fit. Could this be the case with this guy? I’m not sure, all I know is that he did something for me tonight I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay him for.

  My rescuer and I take one tentative step forward, but I realize pretty quickly that this arrangement won’t work. My fellow wolf is too heavy for me. I let him hop off me, and I run to the foot of the hill. I whine at the ones up top, and to my surprise I see adults pacing the edge. One of them produces an aggravated bark that sends all the youngsters backwards.

  A moment later, the same wolf descends down a narrow trail of rocks I hadn’t noticed before. He doesn’t acknowledge me, going straight to the hurt wolf. The bigger wolf head butts the younger one, until the latter stands, and then does something similar to what I did by getting under the other wolf’s chest, except he successfully lifts him up completely off the ground.

  The younger one protests, but he’s so weak that his eyes aren’t even open. The newcomer snorts with annoyance and glares at me. He grunts ordering me to follow.

  I try to lag behind. I haven’t seen or heard my father since pushing the fight deeper into the woods, but the wolf turns around and snaps at my tail, leaving me no choice but to pick up my pace.

  Because of his impatient demeanor, I assume this is none other than Haymitch Abernathy.

  Even as a man, Haymitch is a contrary one, but everyone puts up with his confrontational personality, because he’s really smart and practical.

  He snaps at me again, I think he’s just sour about having to haul such a heavy burden up a hill. My father is a few human years older than Haymitch, but he’s undoubtedly in better physical shape than the snarky man.

  I’m starting to get aggravated myself.

  We trudge all the way up, and meet a whole group of protectors, ready to leap down and search for my father. But suddenly, one of the young hunters howls, jumps and chases his tail.

  We all look below, and see my father trotting back with my stupid rabbit hanging from his mouth.

  The rest of the wolves copy the first one, celebrating my father’s return, with a prize to boot, regardless of how scrawny the prey.

  A scout crashes through the brush, and comes to a short stop just as Haymitch is setting the now unconscious young wolf on the ground. The scout seems agitated. He circles the youngster, and I discern similar scents from him. Looking closer at the scout, I can tell he’s only just a bit older than my rescuer. I reckon they must be siblings.

  My father reaches the summit, and stops in front of me, dropping his kill at my feet. I look at him, but his big round lupine eyes are full of reproach, so I drop on my belly and coward away a little when his warm breath reaches my face. He makes a nagging noise before giving me a punishing nip at my ears.

  Father steps away from me, and goes to the brothers.

  The scout is nuzzling his snout into his brother’s neck, whining and purring.

  The biggest wolf in the pack, a fellow named Thom, steps forward. They help position the unconscious wolf on his back, and in a blink of an eye, he’s gone, running towards the district. Father motions me to follow.

  I’m not stupid enough to question him this time. I do as he says and jog after the other wolf with my head down and my tail tucked between my legs.

  We are not supposed to be inside the district fence while in wolf form, but on the rare occasion there’s a medical emergency we sneak in, as stealthy as we can.

  We encounter one of the few unfortunate peacekeepers on watch during the full moon. They usually hate it, but they still have to patrol the district for the humans left behind. Luckily it’s been ages since any of them has been harmed by one of us. We’ve learn to control our mind over our animalistic urges. For the most part we are friendly to humans, but our appearance is still very unnerving to behold.

  Long pointy teeth, razor sharp claws, and some of us can be as big as buck. I’d be scared to death too if I encountered myself out roaming the street in the dark.

  “Who goes there?” The Peacekeeper calls, he certainly doesn’t sound as shaky as our usual fare. “There’s a curfew in place! Go back to your house!” He says again.

  The wolf carrying the sick one steps forward from under the cover of shadows we’ve been walking in. The adult growls lowly, showing cruel, long, slobber dripping fangs. I think he’s going for menacing.

  The peacekeeper lifts his visor off, and arches a reddish eyebrow above a green, unimpressed eye.

  I breathe easier. It’s just Darius.

  “Thom, I know it’s you, so cut it out with the dramatics and get on to wherever you’re going. Just stop trying to sneak up on me, would ya? These shotguns aren’t harmless props, you know.” Darius chastises my companion patting his gun.

  I can’t believe the blasted idiot starts wagging his tail at Darius all friendly like. I grunt at the older wolf, we’re supposed to be on a mission!

  After settling back, we take off in the direction of my house. In a few minutes, we are at my porch. I climb the steps and start scratching at the door.

  My mother comes forth with a heavy bottom frying pan held aloft. I stumble back startled, stepping on Thom’s foot, causing him to grunt in pain.

  “Katniss?” My Mother whispers in surprise. “Are you hurt?” She steps out of the house throwing caution to the winds.

  I deny it as best I can without spoken language, but she’s already noticed my companions. She steps aside and let’s us inside the house. She hurries to the small bed I share with my sister, and picks up the bundle I know to be a sleeping Prim she goes into her own room. She deposits my sister in her bed and draws the curtains closed.

  Sure, a curtain isn’t even a credible defense in case of an attack, but it’s easier to pull as a barrier, that climbing into the cellar with a sleeping child in her arms.

  I sit in front of the curtain, facing the room, protecting my little sister. One can’t be too careful around hurt, unconscious wolves. There’s no telling what they’ll be like once they wake up in pain and disoriented.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Mother asks when Thom places her newest patient on the kitchen table.

  Thom makes a series of noises, but my mother waves him off curtly.

  “Never mind. I’ll asses his injuries right now, and get the whole story in the morning.” She sighs. “If you’re needed back in the woods, I think we are all set here. Please let the elders know the patient is in my care, and Katniss will stay to help.”

  My head shots up. I groan. I hate healing duties! I can’t stand people’s pain, let alone seeing their blood, or worse yet, watching my mother cleaning and dressing them up.

  Mother gives me a pointed look that shuts me up right away. I’m a lycanthrope, but I still shiver at a stern glance from my human mommy.

  Nobody knows how the affliction works. The gene seems to get passed down arbitrarily, regardless of gender or generation. My mother came from unaffected parents, that yielded two children, one with “the lupine illness,” as some people call it, and the other one, herself, unaffected.

  To her parents chagrin, mother married father, a werewolf, and father gave her two children, me: a werewolf, and Primrose: a human.

  The Capitol pretends to be unaware of the condition, yet they officially forbid discussing, or even mentioning the “illness.” Looking for cures is out of the question, though it is easier to count the unaffected than it is to put a number on our kind’s population. A few brave souls still try to figure out how to combat the gene, because wouldn’t it be something if we could stop the morphing from happening? If we didn’t pass down the curse to our younglings?

  My mother sets to work just as Thom steals back into the darkness outside. I whine quietly, watching the door with longing, but my mother puts me to work right away. I have to fetch stuff for her all over the place, which isn’t that bad; at least I don’t have to see her poking the poor guy’s leg and mopping clean the gashes left by the bear’s claws on his thigh.

  It looks painful and raw, the tiny bit I accidentally saw.

  She sends me outside to get water from the well, and I’m grateful of the remarked differences between my kind and that of a regular wolf.

  We can walk erected, on hind legs, if necessary. Our hind paws work like human feet, elongated and flat. Our front paws are more akin to the animal’s paws, rounded and with very sharp claws, but we actually do have nubs that work similarly to opposing thumbs. We can’t grab things, but we can manipulate things easier.

  I bring the water quickly. The moon is already descending, soon the sun will start to crest, and the pack will return home carrying the bounty of the wilderness beyond the district fence. I huff. I wish I was there.

  I walk back into the house, and my mother thanks me for the water.

  After a few minutes I peek around her shoulder, and noticed a neat row of stitches, replacing the open wounds on the wolf’s leg and part of his side.

  Mother notices. “He’s got a few broken fingers in the right hand. But I’ll have to wait until he’s back to human form to set them.”

  I sneeze a disgusted snort.

  Mother just shakes her head. “Go to sleep, Katniss. You may as well rest before your father comes back to deal with whatever you did.”

  My eyes widen in surprise and I just stare at her.

  “What? You didn’t think I’d figure out your father sent you home as a punishment?” She says with a smug knowing tone, then she chuckles.

  “Sweetie, your father has been looking forward to teaching you everything he knows ever since your first turning. He wouldn’t have sent you home, unless you’ve done something very irresponsible or reckless.”

  Her light blue eyes soften, “Katniss,” she combs back the hair of my head, “Your father does what he does, because he loves you, and wants you to be—“

  “Heck darn exceptional…”

  Of course, instead of words, what came out of my snout when I attempted to finish the sentence was just a long string of canine sounds, incomprehensible to any ear except mine, but mother nods, seemingly understanding my meaning.

  “Off to rest. I’ll watch over the boy, until the rest of the pack returns.”

  I could’ve hop on my bed and go to sleep there, but being in bed without Prim just feels weird. So I strut back to the curtain hiding my parents sleeping corner, circle around an old threadbare rug that sits right under my parents bed and drop on it like one of those donuts the baker sells some times.

  Sleep must’ve taken me immediately, because I come to in my bed, fully human, to whispered voices. This really hasn’t happen to me in over a year. Children with the illness, turn to wolves around their tenth human birthday. They’re considered pups, and have to stay with nannies that watch them, feed them and calm them down if they come from non-wolf parents until they’re 12 and physically mature enough to venture into the woods with the pack.

  After that, every wolf has to find their vocation. That’s how everyone finds their place in the pack.

  Some people figure out what they are good at easier than others, our bodies adapt to our jobs, and develop accordingly, wherever our strengths and skills are needed.

  Scouts have to be swift and extra perceptive, they tend to be smaller and lankier, but they have the sharpest eyesight and can hear and sense things before anyone else does. Protectors are bulkier and heavyset, with claws as sharp and strong as iron blades, their paws are bigger than any wolves, and their teeth can pierce through wood if necessary. A protector’s skin is thickest of all of us. They’re though and big. Nannies are usually female, with the warmest coats and no-nonsense attitudes. Pups are just small versions of a normal wolf. They’re cuddly and playful. And I’ve already talked about myself as a hunter.

  My mother has always said that good manners set people apart from the animals… even if one turns into a wolf on occasion. So I debate staying in bed and pretend I’m asleep, or eavesdrop on the conversation, because I’m awake enough to know that my parents are talking about me.

  “She did what?” My mother raises her voice, and father shushes her, pulling her out into the porch.

  I only hear him say, “Calm down, I took care of it—“

  “That boy got hurt because of h—“

  The door clicks shut and my breathing picks up, while my heart rattles frantically in my chest.

  “It ain’t your fault, you know. At least, I don’t blame you.” The voice speaking is soft and quiet. It comes from the kitchen table.

  “You’re awake?” I ask stupidly.

  ‘Of course he’s awake! How else would he have told you he didn’t blame you?’ I yell at myself.

  “Well… yeah. I know you’re awake too and you heard your folks talking about the bear last night.

  “It wasn’t your fault.” He reiterates after a second of deep silence.

  I roll my eyes, because he’s being naively kind.

  “It too was my fault. I went after that stupid bunny and fell right into the bear’s territory. Some hunter I am.” I grouse.

  “Well… when you put it that way…” he chuckles. “Just give me a minute, and I’ll come up with something.”

  I crack a smile at the ceiling, laying on my back.

  I guess this boy ain’t half bad.

  Finally, I sit up on the bed, braiding my long, dark hair for the day.

  “So, how you feeling?” I grimace, shoving my feet into my boots. I’m wearing a tattered nightgown older than time itself, but who cares? It’s not like I’m about to meet the love of my life or anything.

  The boy answers with a yawn, “I’m a bit sore, but it’s nothing I haven’t felt before.”

  He sounds so nonchalant, it tickles me.

  “So you make a habit of fighting wild bears then?” I laugh at my own joke, but I’m taken aback when his answer comes quietly, like it’s a secret. Or a confession rather.

  “No… just my mother.”

  I swear, every hair in my body prickles.

  This whole time I’ve been facing the wall, while making myself presentable, but I turn to see the boy.

  He’s laid on his back on the table, his clasped hands rest on his stomach, his face is placidly calm as he stares at the ceiling as well. If it wasn’t for his bare feet twiddling nervously, I would say he was relaxed and untroubled. I notice his mop of curly, blonde hair is damp, a couple of sweat droplets form on his forehead.

  I may be wrong, but I think this boy belongs to the baker.

  So, he does come from non-wolf parents.

  “Mmm… I’m Katniss,” I say, meekly. Taking a tentative step towards him.

  “I know.” He says in that same, nonchalant tone, that I peg for fake.

  “Oh…” I don’t know what to say for a moment. “Mmm… and you?” I’m a foot away from the table now, I can see his chest heave and fall with every breath he takes.

  “I’m Peeta.” He says quietly. “Peeta Mellark.”

  He finally turns to face me, and when his incredibly blue eyes collide with mine, it’s like an explosion goes off.

  The whole world spins. Time stops and all the colors in the universe turn gray, except for the blue of his eyes.

  I vaguely remember how just a minute ago I was sure I wasn’t about to meet the love of my life. Well, joke’s on me! Though I have nothing to compare this feeling with, I’m pretty sure I just imprinted on Peeta Mellark.

  Which means: I just met my mate for life, and I’m wearing a ratty sleep dress, older than time itself.

To be continued…

>*+*<

[amoristt]

I’ll Come to You | Jack x Reader

Anonymous Asked: You don't have much supernatural, so fluff for Jack Kline? Can it be something to do with the most recent episode where Jack leaves ? Maube the reader misses him and tries to pray to him, and he actually answers. Precious boy needs some more loves!!

yaaaay finally a request for my Boy jack! i love him sm and i’ve actually been looking forward to writing his character :3 thank you so much for the request!

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

warnings: s13e6 spoilers, mild language

I’ll Come to You

Praying was something you’d gotten accustomed to over the years. You’d prayed to Castiel, asked him for help when things met their worst. You’d prayed to God- but in comparison you never expected an answer from him. Odd how a thing like that works- praying to the lord didn’t warrant much of a response at all but praying to one of his (rebellious) underlings worked out fine most of the time.

The first few times you had no idea what to say, so you just winged it. The prayers were awkward, some clippings here and there of you pleading for some higher force to help you and your family out of messes. When you’d met Castiel, learning the jarring fact that angels were real, you gave it a few goes here and there. Cas answered sometimes when he could, but it was very clear he didn’t have a bond with you like he did with Dean. Then Castiel went ‘guano’ and a whole storybook of things went wrong with both Sam and Dean. One angel turned into two, and then a whole army. Metatron, Gadreel, so many others you could barely remember. When shit really started hitting the fan and Cas disappeared you gave up praying all to together. You knew the truth about god- or, Chuck, and because of that it seemed more and more ludicrous.

Praying was ultimately useless.

But, here you were again, sitting on some bed that had definitely seen better days. The hotel room was small and dingy, consisting of your basic two beds, a couch, and some sad excuse for a miniature kitchen. It was ugly and the air was thick with something you swore was familiar but you’d slept in worse so it was… Fine. Sam and Dean were off somewhere- they didn’t really give you any details before taking off. You’d be upset if you didn’t see this coming, but, you did. After Jack’s weird nephilim blast managed to screw your shoulder up you Dean made an effort to try and get you to stay at the bunker while they went off for some hunt (thought you knew they were looking or Jack at the same time).

“Someone needs to hold the fort down”, “It’s just a couple vamps, totally under control.”, “Cas is gonna need some company.” Dean really tried to make his intentions sound innocent but you knew better. Sam did too, evidently, because he chided in that your arm was still healing. He shut up pretty fast when you reminded him so dearly that he was literally dying during God’s Trails and still went on hunts. When your injury was off the table, and Cas took his leave to try and find his son, there were no more cards for them to play.

Even though you managed to get your way you somehow knew this was destined to be your fate. They told you to stick around and watch the room while they questioned a few witnesses, but it had been nearly three hours and you hadn’t heard a one from either of them. Three hours of nothingness did not settle kindly with you, especially not with everything that had just happened. You tried to sleep, tried to read, and tried to zone out to some random cartoons on TV but nothing was working quite well enough to tune out your thoughts.

Jack was out on his own in a great big world he’d never seen much of. Except for the few hunts he went on (which he was very sheltered guided through) he hadn’t experienced the world or the people for himself. Now he was off somewhere doing god knows what when there were not only angels but demons coming after him as well. He was so easily taken advantage of and you hated to think that maybe this was the start of something evil. You, Sam, Dean, Cas- none of you were there to keep him away from forces that would use his powers for the epitome of bad. Plus, with his new ‘I’m evil’ mentality, it would be even easier for him to manipulated.

You wished he would reach out to you somehow, even if it was just to let you know he was okay. Maybe you were just selfish at partially expecting a parting note but damn it he was your friend and he knew how much you cared for him. You’d told him time and time again that he was far from evil, that he was as good as a good man could be. You told you believed in him, and you stupidly thought that was enough. In some ways, there was more than just… Friendship, and you thought maybe he was grasping that too with the way he would sometimes look at you but it was likely he just looked at everyone like that. That doey eyed, star struck expression. He’d make the same eyes at a cup of coffee if he liked it enough. Plus, even if you were some sort of special case to him, this was not the time. He was nephilim learning the extent of his power and ‘team free will 2.0’ was comprised of such a ragtag group that even the littlest thing could set it off. The last thing anyone, especially Jack, needed was relationship problems.

Still, every time you thought about what could possibly be happening to him your stomach dropped and your skin heated, your hands wringing together in tension. Alone in that hotel room with virtually nothing to do, you couldn’t take it anymore. You turned to the last resort.

Sitting on the creaky bed, you started wringing your hands together yet again. “Hey Jack,” you said to the empty room. Already you felt stupid. “I know you're not entirely angel so I don’t even really know if you can hear me but, if you can-” You licked over your lips and took a glance around. Still empty, so you let your head fall as you closed your eyes. “If you can hear me just… Let me know you’re okay. You don’t have to stay here and you don’t have to talk to anyone, you don’t even really have to talk to me, just show up and then you can go. I need to know you’re still out there.”

If you didn’t feel lonely before you definitely felt it now. The hotel room felt barren despite it’s furniture. Everything felt cold and abandoned. You tried again, eyebrows furrowing as you tried paying harder.

“Jack, please. Write me a note or something. Make it rain outside. Break a glass- do something. I know you don’t want to but please talk to me. I won’t try to make you change your mind or stay, I won’t even tell anyone I saw you, I just-” A hard lump formed in your throat and you shook your head, taking a moment to sniff and wipe your eyes before continuing. “I miss you.” Still, silence. Nothingness. He was nowhere to be seen and you still had no idea if he could even hear you in the first place. You tried to swallow down but you found that you couldn’t, that lump far too intrusive for you to just choke down your sorrows. Sadness, a ripping desolated kind, gutted you. Your hands came to ball into fists in despair. “I get why you left. I get why you don’t come back.” The curtains blew. “I wouldn’t want to be around us either.”

You knew you were wrong in your words, but you were hurt. Jack left because he feared for your well being but you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling rejected and deserted. The least he could do is tell me he’s okay, an angry side of you said through gritted teeth. Behind you, fabric rustled and you shot up at that familiar sound, turning on your heel ready to face him-

The room was empty. A gust of wind rustled the curtains, the sound reaching you like a slap to the face. So much excitement coursed through you at the thought of him coming back to you, but it wasn’t him. You felt heavy and alone, and you fell back to sit on the bed with slumped, defeated shoulders. Finally, the tears fell from your eyes, and you hid them in your shaking fingers even though you were all alone. If he couldn’t hear you, then he was on his own. If he could and chose not to come, then he’d made his decision. Both options felt like they were ripping you in two.

Isolation settled into your body like ice, and you were stuck between wanting Sam and Dean to come back and wanting them to stay far away until you were done with your sudden catharsis. Maybe this was what you needed. Things had been hard and stressful lately, maybe you just needed a good cry to get it over with.

Behind you, the curtains blew again. You ignored the sound.

“That was not why I left.”

Your eyes snapped open, looking past the cracks of your fingers and through a blurry mess. Try as you might to get up, you couldn’t. You were frozen in your spot, partially wondering if you’d only been hearing things. Hesitantly, like if you looked too quickly he’d disappear, you peeked over your shoulder.

Jack stood in the center of the room. He looked the same as he did when he first left, save for his expression. When he left he had a face of sorrowful determination, but standing there he didn’t look like he wanted to keep you at a distance. His features were soft and forlorn, his eyebrows furrowed in empathy. He appeared like a wounded animal, standing with his face downcast as though he was ashamed to be in your presence.

Slowly you stood up from the bed and made your way towards him. He didn’t retract or back away from you even when you stood a mere few feet away. You watched him closely, waiting for another blast or for him to just up and disappear again. It would make sense- after all you clearly told him he didn’t have to stay and talk with you.

“Jack,” You whispered, but it wasn’t a greeting. It was more of a statement, a peace of mind that made you sigh out in relief. He was alive.

“___.” He answered, and the simplicity made you smile.

Your fingers rubbed together, itching to reach out and touch him. It was hard to fight the overwhelming urge to leap forward and grab him, hold him, but you did anyways in fear of scaring him off.

“I missed you.” You said, your voice wavering still with your previous session. There was no way he couldn’t see the puffiness of your eyes or the redness in your cheeks. When you sniffled and tried to wipe your eyes again the way his fingers almost moved to comfort you did not go unnoticed. 

“I know,” he turned to face the window, the breeze still swaying the curtains. “I… I could hear you.” A deep breath left him before he started speaking again, this time making sure to look you in the eyes as he said, “I did not leave you because I wanted to. I had to.”

Another lump formed in your throat. “Why?”

Jack seemed unsure of what to say, or maybe he just had too much going through his mind at once. He probably had a million reasons why, picking the best one was the problem. He settled on one answer, frowning.

“Because I would hurt you.”

“Jack, that’s not-”

“No, I would. I know you want to tell me that I won’t, but I will.” His face fell at the sight of your bandaged sticking out from under your sleeve, and you quickly pulled the fabric down to cover it. His voice softened. “I already have.”

“No, this isn’t-” Quickly you pressed the palm of your hand on your shoulder, your face hard as you tried to not seem phased. “See? It barely hurts,” Jack started to move towards you on impulse it seemed, and you nervously kept talking in hopes of calming him. “You know Sam and Dean, they’re always so worried and over protec-” Before you could finish Jack reached out, holding his hand flat against the junction of your shoulder.

A strange, numbing sensation washed over you. It was like being doused with morphine, the soreness in your arm fading in seconds until there was no pain at all- not even an ache. Jack took a step back and allowed you space to move your arm, now free of its wounds. You gaped at him, taking in his look of shame and hurt.

“You learned to heal.” You murmured in awe, and he nodded, frowning.

“I’ve still been learning.”

Blinking, you tilted your head. “How?”

“I’ve just been… Doing it.” Jack looked down at the palms of his hands and you followed his line of sight, expecting some sort of angelic glow.

“Wait, what have you been healing?”

“Cats.” He answered plainly, and it took you a second or two to process that. At your dumbfoundedness he decided to elaborate. “Cats are… Easier than people. They are smaller and-... Take much less effort.” He looked back down at his hands and sighed. “But they do scratch me a lot.”

A laugh forced it’s way from your lips. You couldn’t help it- the way he spoke with an almost comical sigh over stray cats not wanting his help during this almost dire situation was hilarious.

“Where are you finding injured cats?” You asked, smiling.

He shrugged, a frown forming again. “They’re outside a lot. They like to fight with each other and get into things I’m pretty sure they aren’t supposed to be in. They... Remind me of Sam and Dean.”

You laughed again, a familiar sense of that bond returning. Apparently he seemed to take in your happier tone, and like a blessing, his smiled too. “That was funny?” He asked, grinning almost sheepishly, and it warmed you to the core. The feeling, one you had been longing for since the instant he left, made you realize how much he meant to you. God, you missed him.

Impulsively you reached out now that he was right there in front of you. Pain or no pain in your shoulder, you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face against his clothed skin. Everything surged out all at once, and you were afraid he’d get startled by your sudden outburst but instead he welcomed it. His arms came to enclose around you, and feeling him return the gesture was enough to bring tears to your eyes all over again. He let you cry against him, maybe because he didn’t know how to handle you or just maybe because he felt the same. The way his hands came to rest almost protectively on your back made you shake against his figure, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket. You wanted him to stay with you, to come back to the bunker, to let you and everyone else protect him.

“I know I told you I wouldn’t argue with you,” You started, pulling back just enough to speak without being muffled. “But it fucking sucks not having you around.”

“I’m sorry.” He apologized.

“Why can’t you stay?” You hiccupped, eyes welling with more tears.

Worried and torn, he murmured,  “I told you why. I am a danger to you and everyone else.”

You pressed your hands to his chest and pushed back to look up at him desperately. “But you said you’re learning.”

“Not enough.” He shook his head, and you slumped your shoulders.

“We can help you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you in the process.”

“But-” You moved away from the protective cage of his arms and grabbed at your shoulder. “You can heal now- if you do end up doing… Something then you can just fix it!”

“I could kill you!” His eyes closed tightly, jaw setting. “Like- Like when I tried to stop that shifter and I hit that man. I killed him. I took him away from his family, they needed him. My father couldn’t heal him-” He stopped and swallowed, opening his eyes to look at you as though he were afraid of you. “If I killed you, or anyone, I don’t know what I’d do.”

Remembering the man that had come into Jack’s line of fire made you turn your gaze to the floor. It was true, Jack had taken that man away from the family that needed him. “That wasn't your fault.”

“It doesn’t matter,” He breathed, voice almost in pain. “I still killed him.”

“But it wasn’t like you wanted to. He jumped out, you didn’t aim for him.”

“That doesn’t matter, ___,” He rubbed at his eyes and moved to pass you, sitting down on the bed you were once upon. You followed him cautiously, unsure if he wanted to have space to himself. When you did settle down beside him, he stared down at his lap miserably. “There’s something in me. I-... I can feel it. Even if I don’t mean to, even if I try to stop it, I will hurt someone again.” He turned to look at you, his eyes glistening with building tears. “I will hurt you.”

You sniffed and reached out, placing a hand on his upper back. “You don’t know that.”

He nodded sadly, eyes closing. “I do. I don’t know how I do I just… Do. I’m not… Meant to be good.”

“Meant to be good?” You blinked at him, astounded. “Jack, no one’s meant to be good.”

“You are. Sam is. Dean, too. My father. You’re all good.”

“That because you don’t know…” You trailed off momentarily. “Things. Jack, we’ve all done things that are bad. We’ve all made our mistakes that costed a life, of even multiple lives. You’re not the only one who’s screwed up bad.”

“But- If you did things that are so bad, how can you be here, right now. How can you be good still.”

You shrugged and smiled. “Because… Good is subjective.” When he narrowed his eyes in confusion, you continued. “Jack, no one’s really born a good person. You can have a good heart, a good mind, good whatever, but it’s in the actions that make you a good person.”

“But I don’t have a good heart.”

You frowned. “Yes, you do. You have a good mind too- I know it because you’re here right now. You feel bad for what you've done, you know you can’t let it happen again. If you were some horrible monster destined for darkness, don’t you think you wouldn’t give a shit about that man or his family?” When he took in your words silently, you softened your face. “What I’m trying to say is you know good from bad, in your head and in your heart. You have good intentions but you’re still learning. In a way... We all are.”

Jack turned his attention to his lap, his expression pensive and thoughtful. “You’re saying that… Even… Evil can be good.”

“You aren’t evi-”

“But If I was, could I?” he interrupted you sharply. “Can evil be good?”

“Well,” You tossed his words around in your head. If you didn’t know the devil personally you’d say yes, but you’ve seen evil and what it can do. But, for Jack’s sake, you gave into his seeding hope. “Yeah. I don’t think you can see the good in you, Jack. You keep saying you’re so evil, yet you’d distance yourself from the people you care about just to keep them safe.” You rubbed small circles into his back and offered him another smile. “That doesn’t seem very evil to me.”

Jack’s brows knit in thought, his fingers wringing together. There was a glimmer of warmth in your heart, thinking about the possibility of convincing him to return on his own accord. After a second of silence he took on a new expression, something much more intense. He turned to look at you, leaning forward slightly.

“Do you trust me?” He asked suddenly. You blinked at him before nodding, still rubbing along the length of his back. He sighed and turned to look forward, eyes unfocused. “And you care about me?”

“Of course I care about you.”

“Do you love me?”

Jack’s blunt question made you freeze, hand stuck in it’s place on his upper back. Your stomach rolled as everything went silent. He watched your face, expression still intense and unchanging.

Through a dry mouth, you said, “Well, yeah. You’re… Important to me.” You knew he wasn’t entirely sure of what he was asking, after all he was still relatively knew to this world. Familial love and romantic love… There was a very blurred line there for him. He was likely asking if you just viewed him as someone close. So, you nodded again. “You’re like my own family.”

At your words Jack frowned and sighed almost defeatedly, face falling to look at his lap. “Oh.”

“What’s wrong?” You started rubbing his back again, unsure of the sudden mood change. He should have been happy you loved him, cared for him.

“So I’m like a brother to you.” Jack’s voice was dull and beaten.

You pulled your hand away, nerves starting to heat up at the scene playing out. “I-I mean… I guess? I wouldn’t really put a label on it. You’re just important to me.”

He once again stared at you, those eyes capturing you. You felt small sitting beside him, like he was reaching into your mind and trying to dig it’s way through. Maybe he was, actually. Maybe he was reading in your mind, taking in all those hopes and dreams you only dared to reach out towards. Perhaps he was visiting your memories, meeting the people you once had. Or, maybe he just watching him through your eyes. the extent 

“Since I’ve been alone I’ve learned a lot about… You.”

You narrowed your eyes in confusion. “Me?”

“People. Humans. You’re all so intricate and there’s so much to take in.” He swallowed, appearing almost nervous. “I’ve learned how to heal. I’ve learned how to hide, and ‘teleport’ as Dean calls it. I’ve also learned interactions in a way.”

“Well, that’s good. I’m glad you’re picking things up.”

His eye’s flickered away before returning back to your own. “There’s more than one type of love, right?”

“I mean- Yeah?” You weren’t sure where this was going.

“I’ve been reading a lot of books, watching movies too when I can. There are so many romance novels and they’re all the same but also… Different. I never knew there was so much to love. There’s the kind you feel towards your… Family and friends. It’s different than the person you chose to spend your life with.”

Fingers rubbing at each other, you nodded along with his words. “Yeah. Romantic and familial. You don’t dedicate and give yourself to your family like you would with your partner. It’s different.”

“I know that now,” Jack turned his body enough to be facing you, his hand resting on the mattress in between your bodies. He came closer, determined. “Do you love me?”

Instantly you flushed, subconsciously leaning back. He was so blunt- it was in his nature. You smiled nervously, wondering if this was something you wanted to play off. “Do you know what you’re asking?”

“I’m asking if you love me.” He knit his brows in thought before nodding at his own words. “I’m asking if you’re in love with me.”

It felt like you were being drowned out by a spotlight. He was leaning so close, you couldn’t escape him. You didn’t want to escape him. The answer was clear and obvious- yes. You loved him, even if you feared him, even if you feared for him. Your fingers twitched in their place, that same longing neediness returning. Yes, you wanted to say, but you couldn’t. Sam, Dean, Cas… they didn’t need this. They didn’t need your relationship causing issues and tensions, and with everything going on you didn’t want there to be tensions between you and Jack.

On top of that what would they all even say? Cas might understand. Jack was his son, after all. He might even see it as a good thing, Jack having stronger bonds with people. Sam might, too. He might be hesitant and give you the earful but ultimately he wouldn’t tear you away from him, not while it meant you could keep him in check and he could keep you safe.

The only one you truly feared was Dean. You feared his explosive anger and shock, and those words that would cut you pretty damn deep. It took him weeks to even think of Jack as anything less than evil, let alone someone who was capable of loving and taking care of someone he cared about. He’d think Jack was lying, or confused.

There were so many things that could go wrong. Jack could die. You could die. Someone could get hurt, someone could leave, someone could-

“___.” Jack called. Your mind went blank. He was there, closer now. Your face few warm, your fingers twitched again. You froze. He didn’t move away. It felt like everything going on this past week had led up to this moment, starting from when he left, to all the loneliness, and now... Here. He was so close and you were sure he already knew the answer to his question, but he wanted to hear it anyways. You wanted to say it anyways. Finally, you gave in.

“Yes.”

Warmth pooled his in his eyes, that gentleness making you suck in a breath. He moved in and you let him, welcomed it, eyes closing and your fingers moving to touch his jawline with your fingertips as though he were fragile. The kiss was brief and hesitant, but you still almost moved with him when he pulled away.

“I love you too. Romantically.” He said innocently, and you were too shaken to answer. He was so oblivious and bright, smiling when he pulled himself away while you were stuck in your place. You probably had the dumbest look on your face. Smiling, he looked down sheepishly. “I read that in a book. When two people are in love, they kiss.”

You blinked, then a grin broke out over your face. You giggled and covered your heated face, shaking your head in endearment. Of course he read that in a book. Mind still racing, you internally made a joke about Sam and Dean teasing him for reading that ‘Anne Rice’ crap, but then you recoiled. Sam and Dean. Now that you and him had ‘sealed your love’, what would happen? Would they accept the two of you, would it make things tense and awkward, would it even work out at all? If Jack left again and never came back, you weren’t sure you could handle it now that you’d gotten what you’d been longing for.

“Are you staying?” You blurted, and he frowned sharply.

“I’m… Not sure.” As his face fell you wished you hadn’t sad anything at all. “I think Dean’s going to be angry at me for what I did.”

You reached out, gently touching at his arm. “No, no, they’re not mad at you, Jack. They’re worried and looking for you, we all are.” you paused. “Well, were, since… I know you’re here.”

“I’m not strong enough to hold myself back, still.”

“But you came back to me.”

“Because you called me,” He closed his eyes. “And because I love you. It… Hurt you see you suffering because of me. It hurt to see you suffering at all.”

“So then stay,” you pleaded. “Stay here and when they come back explain everything. We can all keep each other safe.”

“How can I protect you and everyone when I am the threat?”

You swallowed. “Jack,” You began, voice wavering. “You can’t tell me you love me, kiss me, and then leave again. It’s not fair.”

He looked at you with glassy eyes, his edges softer in empathy. “I don’t want to hurt you or anyone ever again.”

“I don’t care,” Frustrated, you rubbed at your wettening eyes. “If you leave now I’ll miss you even more.”

���Dean will lock me in the bunker. He’ll keep me away from you because he’s… Afraid of me.”

You opened your mouth to combat his words but you knew deep down he was right. If Jack came back, likely what he would be met with is a bunker full of baby proofing and constant, patronization from Sam and Dean trying to keep him at bay at all times. They feared him. To some degree, you did too.

When your shoulders slumped, eyes downcast in defeat, he reached out for you. His hands came to rest under your chin and he tipped your head to look at him, and you wondered if he read this in a book too.

“If I leave, I’ll come back.” He said simply, softly. You nodded. “But… Don’t tell anyone. Not yet.”

“What if they find out?”

His tongue darted from between his lips, his eyes not meeting yours for a few seconds. “Then I will explain it.”

“Okay.” You whispered. His hands released their gentle hold on your chin and you missed the feeling.  Rubbing at your eyes again, you sniffled. “You can go if you want, and… I won’t tell anyone but… You have to come when I call you. You have to tell me that you’re okay out there alone.”

He nodded quickly. “Of course. I will do everything to make sure you are not lonely without me.”

You smiled and huffed a laugh. “Don’t give yourself so much credit.” you teased. Bad move. The moment those words left your lips, Jack’s face fell. You quickly shook your head, saying, “No, I was only joking.”

You apologized and he nodded slowly before laughing as though he’d caught on. Behind the two of you, the curtains finally started to blow again as tenacity melted from the room like rain on a window. Jack looked down at you and just as you reached up, intent on kissing him again, the alarm on your phone began blaring.

Both you and Jack jumped, attention crudely grabbed by the wailing device sitting acorss the room on the little table. Quickly you got up, leaving him on the bed while you picked it up and checked the caller ID. Sam.

“It’s Sam.” You whispered before answering. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey ___. We uh- We just finished here and-” There was a shuffle of movement and a distant yelling. “Yeah I’m telling her right now, Dean, calm down. Anyways, yeah, we’re coming back with food. When we get back do you want to head back to bunker or stay another night there?”

“Whatever works. How’s Dean?”

“Dean? He’s uh-” There was another yell and he sighed. “He’s fine. We’ll be back in about an hour.” You smiled, wondering what story they'd be bringing back with them. You could almost hear Sam rolling his eyes on the other end, could almost picture Dean shoving his things into his bags all huffy and irritated over something mundane that he’d get over in an hour.

“Nice, see you then.” Before you could hang up Sam caught you.

“Hey, have you uh… Heard or seen anything on Jack?”

Immediately your eyes flicked to Jack, sitting on the bed silently as he watched. You shook your head. “Nope. You?”

Sam sighed deeply. “Nope. We’ll just have to keep looking, I guess. See ya.”

The line went dead, leaving you clicking the end call button in shame.

“They were asking about me, weren’t they?” Jack asked, and you nodded slowly. He frowned. “I will come back, but not right now. Not until I know I can protect everyone.” He looked up at you. “Until I know I can protect you.”

If not for the situation of lying to Sam and Dean, your heart would have melted at his words. Jack got up from his spot and made his way to you, hands once again tipping your head up when you didn’t meet his gaze.

“I’ll come when you call me,” He whispered. “I will not leave you alone.”

You nodded woefully knowing you couldn’t stop him. “Promise?”

Jack leaned down and kissed you again, leaving you wondering just how much he’d learned while he was away. This was not the same oblivious and unsure person you knew- and maybe that was a good thing, because you truly believed him when he whispered to you, “I promise.”

Then, he was gone. You almost tipped forward when he disappeared into thin air, that fluttering of fabric ringing in your ears. Suddenly everything felt cold and lonely again, that same weight you’d felt earlier settling heavy on your chest. You should have felt at peace, happy at knowing he would come and when you’d call him, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to feel entirely appeased with what was going on. You didn’t want to lie to Sam, Dean, or Cas. You didn’t want to miss Jack, to only see him when you knew you were alone. Thinking about someone finding out, the arguments and scoldings you’d get, made your head spin and you made your way to the bed once again. It almost felt like you could still feel him where he had been sitting, where he’d kissed you for the first time.

A smile actually did break out at that. He’d kissed you, and he knew full well what it had meant.

Sighing, you let your head fall back against the pillow. You wished he was there with you but that couldn’t be- not yet anyways. The next time you were for sure alone you’d call him, and you’d kiss him and not have to worry about anything for just a little bit. Whenever that time came, you would be ready. For now, however, Sam and Dean were coming back and you were all heading back to the bunker for god knows how long.

One thing was clear, however. At the next hunt you’d give into Dean ‘suggesting’ you stay behind. Staying home at the bunker, safe and sound with Jack, beat icing whatever monsters they faced anyways. All you could really hope was that this would work out, no matter how much bad luck you always found yourself with. 

[yumekuimono]

[WinterIron] Disarmed

inspired by an unanswered @imaginetonyandbucky prompt: Imagine Bucky seeing the footage from the time Tony disarmed him during CW and it kinda turned him on. (Or alternatively, watching Tony handling weapons give Bucky the hots)

this is nothing like that. basically, Bucky is me in this fic

“Wait.” Bucky speaks suddenly, before he even realizes he means to. He blinks, but figures he might as well continue. “Go back a bit,” he requests, and FRIDAY rewinds the tape he’s watching. “Little more. There, play from there.”

On screen, security footage from the GSG9 headquarters shows Tony Stark confronting the Winter Soldier with only a palm repulsor that was hidden inside his watch.

“Play it again.”

“Buck?” Steve asks, looking at him in concern, but he only holds up his hand, watching the encounter play out intently. When he speaks, it’s to address the AI again.

“Can you slow it down a bunch?”

Obligingly, the footage rewinds and then inches by a few frames at a time.

“Oh my god,” Bucky whispers. “Oh my god, did I hit his sunglasses?”

“Bucky?” Steve asks again. “What’s wrong?”

He stands abruptly, throwing Steve no more than a cursory glance. “Sorry. I need to take a break. I’ll be back in a while.”

“Okay…” Steve sounds worried, but lets him go.

Bucky is not at all ashamed of taking advantage of Steve’s enormous soft spot when it comes to him. Honestly, he’d been okay with it in the days after he’d been unfrozen again, when he’d been overwhelmed by trying to erase his conditioning and untangle his memories with the help of Tony’s BARF technology and he’d barely been able to cope with taking care of himself. Then, it had been a relief to know that Steve would undoubtedly fight in Bucky’s corner to defend him from any and all politicians or press that wanted to accuse him. Now that he’s doing better, though, Steve’s self-appointed role as guardian of Bucky’s boundaries, even from Bucky himself, is starting to grate. He’d had to insist half a dozen times that it would be fine to get Steve to agree to let him review the material that is going in his own damn dossier.

Honestly, if Steve is going to fret over Bucky wanting to influence the arguments that will hopefully convince the world governments that the actions of the Winter Soldier really aren’t his fault, and then fret over Bucky wanting to take a break from reviewing footage that is, admittedly, frequently stomach-churning, he deserves to be taken advantage of.

Bucky stomps down from the viewing room into the workshop.

“Stark. Give me a pistol.”

Tony startles, snapping out of his work zone. “What? You’re not supposed to have them still.”

It’s one of the conditions that allowed them to bring Bucky stateside. Technically, he isn’t supposed to have any weapons at all, but Natasha had secretly slipped him a couple of knives because she understands.

He rolls his eyes. “Something gun-shaped, then. Doesn’t have to be functional.”

Tony considers, then rolls his chair across the floor to a storage bin and digs out an old handgrip prototype. The thing can be loaded with a clip and has both trigger and finger guard, but there’s no firing mechanism and only the most rudimentary of barrels. He hands it over.

Bucky double checks that the gun is disabled and unloaded, and then he levels it at Tony’s chest. “Right. Now take it away from me.”

Tony’s heart kicks up to triple-time as a shock of adrenaline hits his system. He’s been working on moving past his anger towards Barnes. He knows now that the man was a victim, that his parents’ deaths are on HYDRA’s hands. That’s why he fought so hard to get him the BARF, and why he offered to build a new arm. But right now, with a gun and a deadly glare pointed at him, it’s hard not to see the terrifying enemy Barnes was all those months ago. He barely notices the watch repulsor unfold in an automatic response to his distress.

“What?” Tony croaks.

“Take the gun away from me,” Bucky says patiently.

Tony stands, and reaches up to grasp the barrel.

“No.”

He flinches as if the forceful tone of Barnes’ voice had been a gunshot.

“If this had been combat, I would have shot you already.” In the middle of a battle, with fear and adrenaline and chaos working against him, Bucky could understand Tony’s response; but if this is how he approaches disarming someone when he has all the time in the world to react? Bucky’s got no clue what Howard was doing, raising Tony to take over a weapons manufacturing empire without teaching him basic gun safety. “First rule of disarming someone: don’t get shot. Step to the side.”

Tony’s brow furrows as if he wants to argue. Internally, Bucky rolls his eyes. It would be just like Tony to protest because he’s worried about collateral damage to whoever might be standing behind him. Fortunately, he doesn’t say anything, and even better, he knows to step to the outside of Bucky’s extended arm.

Bucky nods. “Now turn and grab the back of the gun with your left hand. Jam your fingers in front of where the hammer would be. It might hurt, but not as much as getting shot.”

Tony follows directions. It’s good advice; blocking the hammer will prevent the gun from firing, even if the trigger’s been pulled. He still has no clue why the hell Barnes has taken it upon himself to apparently teach him this.

“Now grab the front of the barrel. Twist it away from you and around towards my body.”

Tony finds himself abruptly holding on to the prototype. Barnes’ expression shifts into what might be a smile on anyone else, and he holds out his hand. Tony doesn’t give him back the gun, though, instead opting to stare suspiciously.

“No offense, Robocop, but why are we doing this?”

Bucky presses his lips together and looks away. “FRIDAY, is it possible to play the footage I was just watching down here?”

“Certainly, Sgt. Barnes.”

A video window pops up on one of the holoscreens, already looping the segment that Bucky had been rewatching. Tony blinks at it, frowns.

“So…what? You didn’t like my style?”

Bucky stares at him. He cannot believe this man sometimes, but usually that statement is accompanied by less exasperation and more being awestruck. “You put your hand in front of the barrel, Stark.”

Tony holds up his hand, still covered by the repulsor, and wiggles his fingers. “Yeah, but I had one of these on.”

“And what if you hadn’t? What happens if you get caught without it one day?”

“I won’t.” Tony knows he won’t because he always wears the watch now.

Things are tense in the Facility. He might be working towards forgiving Barnes, but outside of their regularly scheduled workshop meetings, he avoids the man. Partly because it’s awkward and he doesn’t really know how Barnes feels about him, but mostly because he’s pretty much glued to Steve’s side. And Steve…Steve, Tony still has nightmares about. Steve and his team he fought to bring to the table on the new Accords and he fought to bring them home, but he has not completely forgiven them. (They’re here because deep down, Tony still knows that something is coming—and they’re going to need all the help they can get.)

“You can’t know that! You get into the habit of grabbing guns like that, the one day you don’t have your protection, you’re gonna get shot, and if you’re lucky that bullet’s not gonna be pointed at your face. Hell, I already hit your sunglasses.”

Tony is not at all sure how to respond to that, so he says, “You didn’t, actually. Hit my glasses. It looks like that in the footage, but the bullet didn’t make it past the barrel.”

Bucky cannot even be relieved that he didn’t hit Tony. “That’s not the point. What if it had damaged your repulsor?”

“I was 98.9 percent certain that wouldn’t happen,” Tony hedges.

“And if it had? What happens when your repulsors fail?”

He resists the urge to say they never fail, because he might be a genius engineer but part of that is knowing that things always fail. “It…wouldn’t have exploded. Probably.”

Bucky grits his teeth. Honestly, it’s like Tony has never had someone care about his safety before. “Probably.”

Tony nods. He’s still a little confused by this whole thing. “Most likely.”

Bucky holds out his hand for the gun prototype. “Do it again.”

Tony hands the gun back and lets Barnes make him repeat the motions over and over, retracting the watch repulsor while he’s at it. Somehow, he doesn’t feel like he came out on top of that conversation. He feels off-balance, like he still needs to defend himself. Before he can really think about it, he finds himself saying, “Even if I did damage my repulsor—which, there’s only a one-point-one percent chance of that happening—there’s enough mass in there that a bullet wouldn’t exit my hand with enough force to kill me afterwards.”

Bucky shakes his head, bringing his left hand up to brace the butt of the gun. The motions are exactly the same, but Tony needs to learn not to let the different grip throw him off. “Not acceptable.”

Tony fakes a bright grin. “Worried about me?”

“Yes.”

That gives him more of a pause than Barnes adding in his other hand had, but fortunately at this point the motions of repeatedly disarming him have become almost automatic. “I know,” he says faux-sympathetically, “if I get my hand shot, there’s no one to fix up your arm anymore.”

Bucky is silent for a while after that as they work, wondering what the hell he’s going to do with this man in front of him. He makes Tony disarm him on the opposite side, switching his grip every couple of repetitions. He knows Tony avoids him, but Bucky doesn’t avoid him in return, not anymore. He sees the new lines in Tony’s face every time they have another session. He sees how he works his fingers to the bone on Bucky’s arm, on Rhodes’ leg braces, on Spider-man’s suit, on keeping them all safe and free. He sees that Tony is very much not okay but he keeps going anyway, and Bucky tells himself that it is possible. That he can do it too. He doesn’t understand how no one else seems to notice that what Tony does is extraordinary. He doesn’t understand how anyone can take him for granted.

Finally he says quietly, “You love building things.”

Tony drops his hands from where they were raised to take the gun again, staring.

Bucky lowers his arm. “I don’t want you to get shot because then you wouldn’t be able to do what you love.”

Tony has never, in his life, been told to make things for the joy of making them. Make yourself useful, yes. Make profit. Make things so the Avengers will stick around because he’s not a hero and he’s not a team player but he sure as hell can make fancy toys to take out the bad guys. Make things because people want them from you, and if you keep doing it for long enough, they start to expect them from you. Except the truth is, Tony does love it. He loves pushing the limits of possibility. He loves creation, he loves knowledge. He’s resigned himself to giving what he makes to those who will never truly appreciate them. And now there is this man who wants nothing from him except for Tony’s own safety and possibly his continued happiness.

Bucky sets the gun prototype down on a table. “Practice what I showed you. Until you can do it automatically no matter what. Natasha will help.” He turns to leave, then pauses. Sucking up his courage, he says, “I care about you.”

Tony stands there alone in the middle of his workshop long after Bucky has gone, utterly disarmed.

[machinakrp]

>> OPEN KIM TAEOH’S FILE …

:// AGE — 27 :// OCCUPATION — mechanic :// CLASS — elysium native

>> LOADING DEVELOPMENT …

:// MODIFICATIONS —

ARMS /

cybernetic arm: as a reckless teenager with a hoverbike, an accident left him with a severely shattered arm. things seemed to be healing decently, but an unfortunate byproduct of being broke and in elysium with little access to beneficial healthcare meant a serious staph infection took root and required eventual amputation. thereafter, he had his basic prosthesis replaced with a custom built (by himself) prosthetic of a more cybernetic nature. it is, however, not particularly subtle. he didn’t have the money or the expertise to manufacture any synthetic skin. instead, his arm is fully mechanical in nature, and it’s not exactly shiny chrome. he’s installed a customized shoulder socket allowing him to remove it for easier repairs, but the process is painful - both for attaching and removal - and it obviously leaves him in a precarious position.

magnetic systems: prior to losing his arm, taeoh was a street magician who used sleight of hand and a magnetic node built into his arm to manipulate metal objects, seeming to make them fly. he used this, additionally, to pickpocket from the crowds that gathered to watch his performances. after replacing his arm, he traded out the uncouth system for a more sophisticated set up, though the magnetic system in his human hand is wired only to the hand, the robotic arm has a broader range of output, though still lowgrade enough to avoid hurting sensitive equipment.

EYES /

protective covers: a retractable second eyelid designed to protect against gasses, particulates, fire/heat, and other potential damage that comes with this job as a glorified mechanic. it’s mostly geared towards being a replacement for very unsexy and clunky safety goggles, allowing him a greater peripheral vision range and more flexibility.

vision magnification: a simple enhancement to his optical range, this allows him to trigger a zoom effect, effective in close range. while he can’t zoom in on distant details binocular style, he’s able to magnify things that are in front of him, allowing him to more easily and accurately work with minute machinery.

retinal display: this retinal display doesn’t only focus on pure communications,  though of course that’s a component of it. he’s also worked with adept programmers to write in a capability to sense and suggest the appropriate tools for specific problems he’s looking at, as well as an ability to quickly call up troubleshooting data or suggestions.

>> LOADING BIOGRAPHY …

tw. injury, hospitalization

the anatomy of a boy begins with

                        B O N E S.

the lattice work that supports the flesh, his story begins piecemeal but whole. a mother with wide eyes turned outward, skyward, away. there’s a distance in her that he never quite breaches, a gap between them that he can never close.  she hangs faded maps on their walls and dreams in stories of places none of them are allowed to go. she pets his head and calls him by a twist of his name. they christen him taeoh but she twists the knife in her own gut each time she presses tongue to teeth to stress the counterpart name, theo, theo. some relic of a place she can’t go, a world closed off to them. it sounds all but the same, but she insists on scrawling it on the tags of his clothes and in the margins of his birth certificate as theo, each pen stroke carrying her dreams of eiffel towers and hover cars drifting over top the river seine at sunset.

his bones are made of dreams - his mother’s forgotten daydreams and his father’s desperate optimism. if skin could wear away his father’s fingertips would protrude shining and white from the tops of his fingers. maintenance in a city like elysium is brute work. he’s covered in oil and bone tired at the end of exhaustive shifts but it’s “honest work, theo, and you should learn to appreciate that.”

what good is being honest, in elysium?

the anatomy of a boy is layered in

                       M U S C L E.

as he grows, he knots together the best pieces of his parents, cherry picking useful attributes with calculating eyes, to make himself into something. like pinocchio he feels set apart from the world. a strange slant to his vision. he tinkers with his father’s old tool box, fusses with old radios and tunes into frequencies he shouldn’t be able to access.

he hears stories from worlds away and his mother never resists the chance to tell him they weren’t meant to be here, trapped in this sick city, destined to be consumed by the rot of it. it had all been an accident. an accident, in fact, of her own birth. her parents had been visiting family, infant daughter in tow, when the borders had closed and their nomadic life had come to an abrupt end alongside it. it’s nostalgia passed down with guilt, his mother’s frustration at having been the sacrificial lamb to her parents’ distress, their desire to escape exhausting their good will and finances in those early years of isolation. he’s born into hand-me-down guilt in a hand-me-down house with hand-me-down expectations layered onto his shoulders, and he resents the lot of it.

maybe that’s when the escapism begins, really. he’s a child with a light heart and quick feet, scrambles down side streets and shimmies down drain pipes. his parents get used to him “running away” and returning days later scuffed and dirty but mostly fine, all in one piece.

the anatomy of a boy is controlled in the

                                B R A I N.

taeoh is one of the few to attend school on the regular, even when he’s skipping out on his home life. that doesn’t stop his fascination with machinery, doesn’t keep him from finding an old motorbike and fixing it up. its a painstaking, oil staining process that leaves him with more ruined pairs of jeans than anything else in his closet, smells like petrol. he races through the streets, winding between the seemingly perpetually gridlocked traffic and skidding through narrow alleyways. curses follow in his wake as he takes corners a bit too quickly, banks a little bit hard.

he lives for the moments he can feel the wind in his hair, the ghost of a sky that barely peeks through between the cracks of looming buildings. he builds his own freedom and constructs his own stories. he takes his work from the purely mechanical to the artistic. found and salvaged sculpture plenty of peers are happy to denounce as garbage, but taeoh thinks in the frame of salvation, elevation.

it’s the cycle that takes him out in the end, barrelling down a tunnel, repurposed subway tracks, his characteristic adrenaline chasing grinds to an abrupt and screaming halt. what remains of his left arm is a mangled and shattered thing, a mash of blood and splintered bone, tangling sinew on the concrete floor.

the stain remains, long long after they cart him to a hospital he can’t afford.

the anatomy of a boy is replaced by

                              G E A R S.

it takes them two months to decide to amputate the arm, in the wake of an infection that renders him delirious and feverish, racing through his blood stream and eating at his heart. it’s the fault of the hospital in the first place, a botched and bungled effort, underfunded and low staffed and the sanitization protocols are clearly not up to par, but it’s not like taeoh can pay for better. h e can’t even pay for this.

he’s left with pins and needles and a sense of absence, a strange echo of a limb that once was. he’s a man who works with his hands, works with his body, and he goes home to a room full of bits and bobs he can’t build with in the same way, elements he can’t sculpt how he’s used too. everything becomes a bit more daunting, a little bit harder, and taeoh wonders what it was all for, what the point is to grind his way back up from the bottom one armed. it’s a bitter depression that tangles around him, thorns driving into his heart.

it takes months, before his father dumps a box of parts onto his bed and gruffly informs him it’s time to stop fucking wallowing and live his life.

in the end, it takes him six months, but he does it. makes an arm. it’s a labor of love and necessity and it’s not one that allows for much luxury. he’s relearning himself just as much as he’s learning to create, to apply his mechanical knowledge to the biological.

the result isn’t beautiful, but it is functional and customized. it’s removable, with a socket build into his shoulder so he can take it off for ease of repair, or to sleep without being completely miserable. it’s a very mechanical construction, bared metal and the clink clank of machinery sliding back and forth when he moves.  cracking his knuckles has become a symphony of metal now. there is no shining chrome here, no paint, no synthetic skin. just mechanics on display.

he loves it.

the anatomy of a boy is driven by the

                            H E A R T.

even now, out on his own in the world, half man and half mechanized, with more than enough money to cover up his arm in something more palatable, more aesthetic, taeoh clings to the click clack clang of his first arm. there have been many iterations since then and many improvements, maybe additions, but the look has never changed. still raw, more machine than augmentation.

his work is careful and creative but it’s never the groundbreaking and pioneering effort from more polished figures in the industry. he’ll hack it, he’ll crack it, he’ll redesign and customize it, but first time installations are out of his wheelhouse - except, of course, on himself. he’s happy to be a bit creative in that respect, to modify and adjust himself to his fullest limits - as much as is possible of course. he is a mechanic, a handyman, an artist. he’s still that bright eyed boy chasing highs in oil stained jeans, climbing on hastily rigged scaffolding to complete a piece.

he turns his arm into a performance of it’s own, a range of magnetization in hands and arm becoming the catalyst to apparent magic, a call back to his child hood attempts of gaining pocket money through sleight of hand, a street performer with a penchant for “magic” tricks in a world where real magic exists.  the magnetic fields now give him a chance to up the moves to performance piece level, a range that endlessly entertains him, though his friends might be well sick of it.

he’s an analogue creature in a digital world, negotiating the bounds of mechanic and artist, man and machine, takes on the in-between the worlds notation his mother had scrawled so often and leaves it on his work, engraves it in steel and iron, carves out his place in a world that seems to have no room for him. theo.

[i-w-p-chan]

Miss- err, Mr. and Mr. Croft, Part 11/Underworld

Important Author Note: Unless it is specified who says which part, the dialogue typically alternates between Tsuna and Hayato.

WARNINGS: OOC, Language (there is a lot of cursing), Violence, Indiscriminate Killing (Tomb Raider Typical Killing- applies to humans, animals, and mythical creatures), Dialogue Heavy, Set In The Tomb Raider Games 'Verses, So May Not Make A Whole Lot Of Sense If You Don't Know TR (unless you, like me, don't mind that), Uses Dialogue From The Game, Collection of Snippets/Drabbles/Scenes Featuring Tsuna's And Hayato's Adventures In The TR Games, Beware Of Unexpected Mood Whiplashes, Ship Teasing, Slight BoyxBoy (why do I even warn about this anymore?), Platonic 5927 (To The EXTREEEEEEEME!), Snark, Badass Tsuna And Hayato, Badasses In Dresses, Perverted Swords, Cute Hammers, And As Always: Shameless Self-Indulgence/Ridiculousness.

Disclaimer: Don't own TR or KHR.  

.

Underworld

.

'Darling~' Cal cooed, 'Make sure that you watch your backs down there. Your behinds look delectable in these diving suits; make sure you don't end up with any unfortunate incidents with tentacles, alright?~'

"Aw, Cal~ I love you too darling~" Tsuna embraced Cal, who was giving Tsuna and Hayato last minute pep talk before he sent them off to the bottom of the Mediterranean to explore, and caressed his edge, "We'll take care."

'Good! Ha~ya~to~ I mean you too, you know?'

Hayato twitched; he had wanted to avoid this, but… "Yes. Thank you, Cal."

Just… how could Tsuna corrupt such an old sword in the span of a couple of years was beyond him.

"We'll see you later, Cal~" Tsuna kissed Cal's pommel.

'Oooh.' Cal appeared to shiver, 'See you later.'

.

The two watched a tentacle retract through a hole.

Tsuna looked at Hayato with amazement.

Don't you dare tell Cal about this! Hayato made a face and gestured.

(Hayato's facial expressions and gestures were highly expressive.)

You're no fun, Tsuna scrunched his nose.

(Actually, so were Tsuna's.)

.

"Norse this time, huh?"

"Egyptian, Roman, Greek, Arthurian, and others. We were bound to come across Norse eventually."

.

Tsuna looked at the Kraken, eyes wide and a crooked grin starting to spread across his lips.

"Don't start!" Hayato twitched, "Does Cal see into the future or something?"

.

Hayato looked down at the Kraken's carcass, "What did the thing ever do to you?"

"It was in the way. Literally."

"You're a menace."

Tsuna preened.

.

Tsuna's eyes sparkled, actually, so did Hayato's.

"Could it be?"

"That Thor's hammer is REAL?"

The two honed in on the gauntlet on the other side of the door like a shark; simultaneous big grins spread across their faces.

"Hehehe"

"Ehehehe."

.

"I can't believe we let them sneak up on us like that," Hayato grumbled.

"Did he just say Amanda Evert?" Tsuna narrowed his eyes, "I was right, I should have killed her in Bolivia."

"Didn't even have the decency to personally come look down here."

"Maybe we should give her a visit. Do you think Cal would mind?"

"Nope, not at all. I believe he'd be ecstatic."

.

'Hey, what happened?'

"We're going to visit an 'old' friend, Cal."

"And retrieve what was taken from us."

"So, Cal, you up for going on a murderous rampage?"

.

"You just don't know when to die, do you?" Tsuna's eyes narrowed, his lips turning up in a bland smile, "Jacqueline Natla?"

"A trait we have in common." Natla smiled blandly back, the action brought attention to the burn scar on her right cheek, which extended down her neck and her chest under the white clothes she wore (Tsuna and Hayato knew the scar extended farther than that).

.

'Ugh, what a bitch.'

"True, that."

.

"Great. A sinking ship."

"Better or worse than a sinking submarine?"

"What's the difference? Both of them are sinking."

.

"Ugh. Spiders."

.

"Did you hear that?"

"Back to obsessing over sudden sounds again?"

.

"Why did it have to be tigers? Why couldn't it have been lions?"

"Are you ready for more babies? Especially after last time you had to part with them?"

Tsuna sniffled; Hayato put a comforting arm around him as Excalibur cooed gently.

"There, there."

.

"This feels like being back to basics."

"Nothing modern."

"Nothing except us, the greenery, the mountains, the rocks, the ancient buildings, and a couple of tigers."

"And spiders."

"That, too."

.

"Great. There are giant lizards now, too."

.

"The Great Pit of Giant Lizards. Or something."

"Or something."

.

"You know, those mechanisms always impress me. Like, how do they make it work? And how do they last all those years?"

.

Tsuna stared giddily at the gauntlet he just wore to be able to move a huge door to open it, "Wow!"

"Oh, no! He has superhuman strength now! Run for your lives!"

'Run! Run!'

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny."

.

Tsuna and Hayato stared at the initials carved into the pedestal.

They looked at each other, "By god, Richard you ass."

"It was literally under our feet. The whole time."

.

"Hey! I can move this!"

.

Hayato clutched at the pedestal, "Tsuna! Don't do it so quickly! Whoa! TSUNA!"  

.

"Aw. It works for a limited time?" Tsuna pouted as he looked at the no-longer glowing gauntlet.

"Thank god!"

.

Tsuna giggled as he saw Zip's reaction to the crypt.

"Tsuna, be mature."

"You're not doing better than me, Hayato."

.

"Thralls?"

.

"Oh, those are thralls."

.

'TSUNA! HAYATO!'

"Cal?"

Tsuna cocked his head to the side; Cal's call came to them telepathically, which was strange, because Cal would literally teleport to them in case he needed them (or they needed him), so why would he-?

Tsuna and Hayato looked at each other with wide eyes and started sprinting down the corridor; the others were in troub-!

The place shook, causing the two of them to stumble.

"A bomb?!"

.

"Put the gun down." Hayato aimed his gun at Zip.

"Don't test us, Zip." Tsuna's eyes narrowed.

"Explain," Hayato hissed, "What exactly happened around here?"

.

"Where's Alister?"

"Cal's not here either."

'We're coming to you. Don't worry about us. Worry about the fakers.'

"Alister's with Cal," Tsuna said.

"You two." Hayato gestured to Zip and Alister, "Get out before the roof comes down."

.

The two doppelgangers made in Tsuna's and Hayato's image aimed their guns to shoot at an unsuspecting Alister.

Cal intercepted the bullets just in time, his form glowing green and orange. He released a great wave of green and orange energy that caught the two doppelgangers and threw them towards one of the walls. Then, Cal shot off, stabbing himself right through the chest of Tsuna's doppelganger and releasing more energy.

The doppelganger screamed as the energy tore through him.

Tsuna took the chance created by Cal's actions and launched himself at Hayato's doppelganger. After he got a good grip on the doppelganger, Tsuna released his flames, engulfing the two of them in them.

The second doppelganger's screams reverberated in tandem with the first one.

In the mean time, Hayato grabbed Alister and high-tailed it out of the burning manor.

Tsuna and Cal didn't follow after them until after they were sure that not even ashes were left of the doppelgangers.

.

Tsuna surveyed the group of people gathered at a distance in front of the manor: Winston and Hayato, tending to an injured Zip and a shaken Alister.

Cal hovered near Tsuna and gently butted his pommel against Tsuna's shoulder, 'Sky- Tsuna?'

Tsuna smiled at him and gently stroked down his blade, "You did a good job in there, Cal."

"What now, Tsuna?" Hayato looked at Tsuna from where he was still standing next to Alister.

"Now," Tsuna started, "We go find the belt. Then the hammer. Then, we burn Natla to death. This has gone on long enough, and it's time to end it." Tsuna's eyes glowed orange.

Hayato's eyes glowed red in response as he grinned a grin full of teeth while Cal glowed in his entirety, 'Ooooh, you're making shivers race down my blunt edge.'

.

"We're on a time limit, Hayato. Get on my bike."

"… … … … fine!" Hayato grudgingly rode on the bike behind Tsuna, tightening his hold as Tsuna sped up, "Ohmygod why did I even agree to let you have driving priority whenever we're on a time limit?!"

"Because I'm awesome, just like that!"

.

"That… was a close call."

.

"Great, giant spiders."

.

"There are four pieces missing and four doors to go through."

"Reminds me of that time with the elemental stones. Shall we separate?"

"And each of us tackles two of the doors again? Yeah."

.

"So, room one- what did you face?"

"Crushing stones. Not very fun to go through. But very fun to watch crush the giant spiders that chased after me. You?"

"Fire and swinging poles. No spiders to speak of, but I don't think I'd fancy the smell of burning spider."

"On to room two."

"Wonder what we'll find."

.

"So?"

"Spears and blades. You?"

"Actually nothing. I only had to crawl through an opening between fallen rocks."

"So not fair."

.

"And now we descend into the underworld."

"We've been descending into a lot of underworlds lately, haven't we?"

.

"Look at this beautiful pool of blue."

"I don't think it's meant to be swum in, Tsuna. So don't go dive bombing into it."

.

"We have the gauntlets, the belt and coordinates to our next destination. It's time we got us Thor's hammer."

.

"OH MY GOD! IS THAT A YETI THRALL?!"

"Well," Hayato started, his guns aimed at the aforementioned yeti thrall, "Where's a powerful yeti-slaying weapon when you need it?"

Cal burst into the air, wreathed in green and orange energy, 'Did you call?~'

"Yes." Hayato smirked as Cal floated in front of him, positioned so that the grip was in Hayato's direction and the blade was bared in the thrall's direction.

Hayato grabbed Cal, who began to emit red energy as well.

Then the two started yeti-slaying.

Tsuna watched, mouth in an 'o' shape.

.

Tsuna stared, enraptured, at Mjolnir where it floated on top of a pedestal, surrounded by cloud-like mist sparking with lightning.

Hayato noted that the gauntlets and belt which Tsuna wore didn't just glow blue, like usual, but also orange.

The mist whirled around the hammer, almost storm-like, and the lightning increased; Tsuna raised a hand towards the hammer.

A stream of lightning and fire connected Tsuna's hand with the hammer as Tsuna walked forward towards it.

Then, Tsuna finally grabbed the hammer and lightning flashed almost blindingly.

'Wow, what a light show. Did the same thing happen when you reassembled me?'

"The light show? Kind of. The dramatic atmosphere? Not so much. We already had your pieces when we reassembled you; we simply just had to put you back together."

The light receded, and Tsuna returned into view.

Tsuna held Mjolnir reverently and spoke, "Mjolnir, slayer of giants and the Midgard Serpent."

Then, a little girl's voice echoed through the chamber, 'I'm Mjolnir! Thor's mighty hammer! Rawr!'

"Of course you are, cutie~" Tsuna cooed at Mjonlir.

'Who are you calling a 'cutie', Sky?! I'm a big, bad hammer! I spank naughty giants on their bottoms! FEAR ME!'

'Cute.'

Hayato nodded in agreement, he could see Tsuna barely restraining the urge to cuddle the hammer.

"Now, darling." Tsuna smiled, "You can do more than that, right?"

'Of course! Who do you think I am?!'

.

"May I call you Mimi?"

'… … … You may…'

"Aww~ Thanks~"

.

Tsuna and Hayato completely tore through the mercenaries on Amanda's ship, Tsuna holding Mimi and Hayato holding Cal.

"There is no kill like overkill~" The four sang in unison, Mimi adding in more creepiness via giggling at the end.

.

Tsuna and Hayato worked their way across the room to reach the entrance where Mimi was to work her magic; both of them were silent and somber (even Mimi and Cal were silent as well). It was the end of their journey, their quest, to finding the truth of what happened to Amelia.

It was the end of their journey. Here. In this world.

Tsuna could feel it already- Hayato could feel it as well.

They had informed Winston, Alister and Zip. Tsuna was going to send them a message when the time came.

Tsuna and Hayato shared a look and continued.

.

Tsuna stared over the edge where the thrall Amelia fell into a pool of Eitr.

Tsuna clenched his fists.

Oh.

Hayato put an arm around Tsuna's shoulder.

Cal and Mimi hissed, snapping Tsuna and Hayato out of their grief to notice Natla who was approaching them.

Tsuna grabbed Mimi who was already sparking with lightning and Tsuna's fire while Hayato grabbed Cal, also glowing with green and red energy.

.

"She's such a fucking escape artist," Tsuna hissed and tugged a strand of hair out of his face.

'Let's go kill her! Let'sgolet'sgolet'sgo!'

"Alright, Mimi. You'll get to punch right through her body and obliterate her."

"And take down the Midgard Serpent," Hayato added.

It was then that Amanda entered the room.

The three stared at each other. Mimi and Cal bristled.

"Aw-kward." Hayato cleared his throat, "Well, Amanda. Fancy seeing you here."

"That's not the point." Amanda scowled, "Where is she?"

Tsuna raised Mimi, "She went off to raise a serpent." He smiled blandly, "Don't worry, we're going to chase her down and tear her limb from limb and then reduce her into nothing."

Mimi sparked with lightning in agreement.

The room shook as yeti thralls stalked down the corridor leading into the room.

Amanda retreated towards the middle of the room, farther than the entrance, and faced the corridor.

Hayato raised Cal and swung him in the direction of the yeti thralls, releasing a wave of green and red energy that sliced through the thralls with disturbing ease.

"Go, Tsuna. Get that bitch. I've got those."

Tsuna's eyes glowed orange, "I will. And then I'll come back to you."

.

"You will be consumed by fire and ash," Tsuna muttered darkly, as he glared up at Natla.

.

"Mimi, are you ready?" Tsuna asked Mimi as he stared at Natla who was attempting to stabilize the unstable Midgard Serpent.

'YES! LET'S GET HER!'

Tsuna smiled grimly, Hayato was going to kill him for this stunt.

(But how else was he supposed to kill an apparently immortal goddess?)

Tsuna raised Mimi, who frosted over from Tsuna's ice, and threw her at Natla, nailing her in the back and slamming her into the Midgard Serpent. Mimi unleashed the frost in her body towards Natla and the Serpent, acting like a medium for Tsuna's ice, and causing both Natla and the Serpent to freeze over.

Mimi flashed back to Tsuna's hand before she got caught up in the ice herself; she relished in the warmth that spread through her as Tsuna channeled his flames through her body.

As Tsuna strapped her to his back, she sent her own energy, her own inner flame, to Tsuna.

Tsuna settled in a ready stance, very much the same stance he used while facing Boaz all those years ago: feet spread apart; one arm extending behind him with his palm raised and expelling flames; the other arm extending in front of him with palm facing his foe.

The gauntlet and belt glowed with blinding orange light; Mimi channeled more of her energy through Tsuna, who narrowed his glowing orange eyes at Natla and the Serpent.

Tsuna breathed in, out.

And then he unleashed a devastating torrent of flames and lightning.

.

After what felt like hours but was probably minutes in reality, and when Tsuna deemed that he achieved his aim, he cut off the fire.

In the middle of the great chamber, where the Midgard Serpent and the construct that helped raise it were, there was nothing.

The Midgard Serpent was gone. Natla was gone.

Tsuna heavily panted, his arms shook, steam was rising from his hands, and he felt that the gauntlets actually melted into his arms despite not appearing to have done so.

'We did it! YEAH!'

"Yeah…" Tsuna made to leave, moving his shaking, tired limbs, but he dropped to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut off.

'Come on TSUNA! Let's go! Get up! Smol Storm and the perverted guy are waiting for us! GET UP! Getupgetupgetupgetupgetupget-!'

"Alright! I'm getting up!" Tsuna dragged himself to his feet and limped towards the entrance.

.

Hayato grinned viciously towards the corridor leading to the room he was in; the corridor itself was torn apart from the intensity of his and Cal's assault on the incoming thralls.

Next to him, Amanda panted in exhaustion.

And then Tsuna limped into the room from the other entrance.

Hayato rushed to him in time to support his weight before he fell to the ground in exhaustion.

"Tsuna…?"

Tsuna let out a breathy laugh, "It's done! It's finished!"

"And Natla?"

"She's gone!"

"And why the fuck do you look like you're about to keel over any moment?"

Tsuna snorted, "Because I am! About to keel over, I mean."

"Are we in a rush to leave?"

"No, don't think so."

"Then, sit. Take a breather. I'll take care of you."

"So," Amanda started, "That's it? She is gone, the Midgard Serpent is gone?"

"Yeah."Tsuna took Mimi off his back, Amanda twitched back, clearly remembering Tsuna using the hammer against her. Tsuna put Mimi in his lap and gently stroked the top of her head, "You did a good job, Mimi."

'YEAH!'

"You can add 'slayer of annoying Atlantean goddesses' to your titles."

Mimi preened in his lap.

Cal, not to be outdone, also laid himself in Tsuna's lap next to Mimi.

'Darling~ I missed seeing you all hot and sexy while you're taking down an Atlantean goddess! Oh, woe is me!'

'Stop being so dramatic!'

'You were there! Tell me! How was he?'

'… … … okay! So he was cool…'

Hayato snorted.

"Hey, Hayato?"

"Hmm?"

"Look, I got the cool energy-channeling hammer as well."

"You're still on about that?"

"Yessss."

.

Ten minutes later, Tsuna's head snapped up and he started to frantically paw at his diving suit until he took out the phone he hid in it earlier.

"It's time already?"

"Yeah." Tsuna typed in a quick, short message to tell Alister, Zip and Winston about what happened and what was going to happen.

The moment Tsuna hit 'send'. A white light flashed and washed over them, taking them away

.

Tsuna slammed into shaking ground, and dragged himself up. He was in a… ship? He swayed; god, he was still tired. His legs shook, but he refused to let them buckle from underneath him.

Water burst into the corridor and swept him up, it was too strong for him to do anything more than attempt to hold onto something.

More importantly, where was Hayato?

.

End chapter 11

[ganymedesclock]

i just got thru goin thru ur weird/adstract gem tag and im wondering: do u have any weird/adstract thoughts about the vld aliens? specifically alteans? p l e a s e give me thoughts on alien monsterish girl allura she is beautiful and very not human (also: shiro as greg in ur weird gem au where he very has a Thing for tall alien girls that are not human)

So I know @notllorstel has some cool stuff with the Alteans glowing (here) and I swear there was one that added in monster teeth?

Most of the VLD aliens I’ve left alone because they are already lovely. I think I appreciate what canon did with the Alteans in the sense of they had to work with prior incarnations of the characters who were literally exactly like humans, physically.

So, things I’d take with that- I dunno if I would make Alteans super monstery as much as an AU that’s basically just, exactly like canon but with a few little added details.

Altean skin texture is actually scales- very fine, smooth scales, but it means their skin color is kind of in a gradient and darkens to closer to their marking color around the extremities and in other places. They’re also kind of shimmery in most lighting, and this gets more impressive if you try to capture images of them with anything other than their own technology.

Seriously. Lance tries to explain selfies to Coran one time and ends up with a picture where it looks like he is being photobombed by a seven-foot amalgamation of eyes and strange patterns of light.

Their musculature is pretty much dense enough to function like a subdermal bulletproof vest. You could literally shoot Coran in the chest with an average handgun and he’d be miffed at worst, like it’d leave a bruise and probably rip his clothes and why’d you go and do something like that. Their hair texture is also very different- the individual strands have a kind of fiber-optic cable look to it, translucent, hollow core. 

Technically the eye markings and the inside of the mouth are the only permanent luminescent spots but that doesn’t mean they don’t have a whole mess of transient markings that tend to pop up depending on how they feel. Humans blush? You have Allura talking to Shiro and she fluoresces a whole spectrum of twilight colors and changes the subject a little nervously. still glowing faintly pink.

Also holy heck do they have teeth. Partially retractable, glowing teeth so let’s just say the first time Allura yawns Hunk’s life flashes before his eyes (and Shiro discovers he’s got it kinda bad)

Alteans looking like humans is more or less a quirk of convergent evolution due to coming from similar planets. You know the whole “what if Earth is space Australia?”- that’s not totally applicable in this read, but, Earth and Altea both are/were climates that cultivated a very specific skill set that puts resilience, stamina, and the capacity to put yourself back together again after serious injury as major priorities. Basically human recovery times and stamina tend to measure up rather favorably to those of most other species. Shiro doing pretty dang well for his missing year? Yeah. Broken bones are a bigger problem to a lot of species.

So on that note: if Alteans weren’t a dusty legend at this point, how much humans resemble them would give everybody a certain amount of the heebie jeebies. (Except the Alteans. They’d be like “aww, look at this adorable little terminator baby species”. Which, I think was probably Coran’s impression compared to Allura’s ‘what’s wrong with your ears’.)

[badly-drawn-piplup]

Happiness Overload Chapter Nine

There stood a lady in a lab coat watching someone being disintegrated. Metal claws retracted back into the floor and ceiling. Electricity ran wild, and I wasn't too sure what I was being exposed to. Before I could turn away, she looked up, her gaze locked into my own.

″Um, don't mind me. Just passing through,″ I put my arm behind my head and shuffled my feet. I already knew I wasn't in the best of situations. You didn't have to tell me that. In fact, I would have at least fared a little better if I kept that stupid armor on.

″No, you're right where you should be,″ she uttered.

Footsteps. Their sounds cluttered on both ends of the hall. I was surrounded. Those goons with guns were going to shoot me down. I knew I shouldn't be here, but I could never find the exit. This lady had me trapped and she knew it. I ran into the room. It was the only thing I could think to do.

She smiled a smile that seemed to grow wider a mile a minute.

″You're still going to die, you know,″ she told me, relishing in such a fact.

″Well, fuck!″ I complained, tears welling up. ″What was I supposed to do? You had me in a corner!″

I could no longer see the body of whoever that was.

″Say, who was that?″ I pointed down, figuring if I was going to die, I may as well ask a quick question.

″Don't you know? That was you.″

″Oh, right. That makes sense.″

″What the hell was that?!″ I stood hunched over in disbelief. Conrad just stood beside me shaking his head, not giving much of a reaction otherwise.

″Damn, the feed cut out,″ he muttered.

″Really? That's what you're going to complain about? Of course it cut out! Your friend is dead!″

″It was to be expected,″ he responded with nonchalance. ″At least Blanc was useful while they were around. I finally got to see the inside of their base of operations. Or at least one of them.″

″I can't believe you right now.″

We were both in my ship at this point and Conrad had pulled out a PDA that displayed the whereabouts of Blanc through the underground maze.

″I placed a camera on Blanc when we were hanging out. It was so small that they had no way of ever noticing,″ he explained as we stepped into the ship. It was quite the ordeal getting there, but we were heading out now and venturing off to find a new place to hide out and lay low.

He tuned in just in time to see Blanc dying in front of the scientist known as Dr. Etna (or Professor, she seemed to go back and forth between titles). He gritted his teeth and hit rewind until we were at the beginning. We watched the fight with Chester, a.k.a Albacore (why the psycho chose that name I'll never know, but he's dead now and I feel no sympathy for him) as well as what ensued with the guards in the hallway. Neither of us could explain how Blanc was fighting any of them, but we had to accept that they were and there was nothing else to it. It wasn't until the thing about Ecstasy that Blanc and Etna talked about that it all clicked. It didn't really click, but Conrad explained it nonetheless.

″Damn it! They had no need to melt the body! They must have known what I did!″ He complained.

″I thought you guys were best friends, but here you are talking like they were an asset, a tool!″ I had no attachment to Blanc, myself; my first impression of them wasn't all that great and I never saw what the big deal was about how supposedly great they were. All I know is that if I had a best friend just die, I would react a little more in grief and shock. Here I am instead shocked that after Conrad had acted like Blanc was someone he'd do anything for, he went and did nothing and used Blanc for such a small gain.

″You have to understand. There was nothing I could have done. Blanc would have gone in there regardless and I wouldn't have been able to do anything to stop them. I at least had to take advantage of the situation so it wouldn't be completely in vain.″

″There was nothing you could have done? You didn't even try!″

″We had more pressing matters, anyway,″ he passed off, pulling on the strings of his hoodie. ″We were trying to escape, remember?″

″Ugh! Missing the point 101!″ I raised my fists and paced around the ship.

True, we were trying to escape, and that was my bad (as well as Kelly Roger's. Don't forget, not all of the blame can be placed on me), but Conrad knew beforehand what was going to happen. Or at least it seemed that way. There should have been something, anything other than this whole ″oh well″.

Conrad sighed and glanced my way.

″Look, you think I'm not troubled by this?″

I nodded. That was exactly what I thought.

″That's not it. I've seen this happen before. It's not the first time Blanc died. There were different circumstances. We worked together and actually came close to defeating the entire Flashbulb organization, at least in this timeline. There was no 'Ecstasy' or anything like that. I simply saved Blanc from ever riding that elevator and figured out a plan to take them apart. Their base wasn't originally underground and things were a little different. Ugh! I can't remember all the details anymore!″

″What the hell are you rambling on about?″ I raised my eyebrows.

″Time has become so muddied. I shouldn't be able to remember any of this, since it never happened, at least, not this time. We were close but they still found us out and went back in time before we had even worked together. I was powerless to stop Blanc from riding the elevator. It was like a different Blanc entirely, even before going to the station. It's like the moth effect. Even the smallest thing changes how things play out.

″You mean 'butterfly effect'?″

″It used to be moth...″ he muttered.

I shook my head.

″Whatever. So you just give up? You watch them, but you don't do anything? What's the point in gathering all this information if you're not going to do anything with it?″

″We have to be careful. It's not that I don't want to do anything, but we have to make sure we can do something before we do it.″

I laughed, but it was one of defeat. ″They're already aware of our existence. What can we do?″

″I don't know. It's a wonder they haven't already changed how things again. If they haven't already. It's so hard to tell.″

I continued pacing. The ship was on autopilot, passing through solids and camouflaging itself to avoid detection. I recalled the cameras, how we were monitoring Blanc, up until their death. That was when I remembered: there were multiple Blancs.

″You want to do something?″ I asked, feeling like I was taking charge.

″Like what?″

″We can still save Blanc.″

″Are you kidding? We're already in the next city! By the time we get there --″

″I'm the pilot, aren't I? I say we turn this around and save your best friend.″

″They're not even the same person!″ Conrad protested.

″That doesn't matter! We're doing this!″ I yelled, shoving Conrad aside and sitting in the pilot's chair.

Euphoria was singing a wordless tune that to anyone else would sound grating, but to me, it was soothing. It was a comfort to know that she was by my side. Even still, there was a miniscule part of me that was just a little uneasy.

″I guess I should have figured beforehand, but it's not exactly 'normal' to float along and make objects 'happy'. Whatever that even means,″ I mentioned.

She grinned. ″EVERYTHING WANTS TO BE HAPPY!″

″Yeah, I guess so. I guess I was also just too caught up in the moment to think about such things like what's 'normal' and what's 'not.' I also guess you're not really human, are you?″

″I'M YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL!″ She confirmed.

″Uh-huh. And what does a 'guardian angel' look like? Go ahead, show your true form. I can take it.″

I turned around and a mass of tentacles with teeth hanging around in odd corners and a giant brain hanging on top, pulsating and pieces falling off, only for a tongue on the side to continuously lick off the brain matter.

″That's not what you look like,″ I shook my head. ″That's only what I imagined you looking like.″

Euphoria changed back into the image of the girl in the angel outfit.

″EUPHORIA'S ONLY FORM IS THE FORM OF HAPPINESS!″ She cheered.

″So appearance means nothing, huh?″ That was disappointing. Such a pointless reveal.

We strode through the hall. I stopped to take off the armor I was wearing.

″I'm tired of this thing, to be honest. We haven't seen any guards in quite some time and I'm sure we're close to the exit now.″ After stripping off of the armor, I was back to feeling free in my usual clothes.

″Ah, that's so much better.″ I put my hands on my hips. ″So, anything else you can tell me?″ I asked.

″I CAN TELL YOU ANYTHING IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY!″

″Can you tell me the truth?″ I asked that, but I didn't really know what 'truth' I wanted to know.

″WILL THE TRUTH MAKE YOU HAPPY?″

I had to ponder that. ″Maybe not, but...″

″WOULD IT MAKE YOU HAPPY TO KNOW?″

″I s'ppose so.″

″Do you know what 'truth' I want to know?″

She nodded with a great fury.

She entered the chamber, this unexpected guest. My database had no information on her but that didn't last long. It only took a second before I had a basic knowledge on just what she was capable of. The flow of information was a constant, ever changing asset.

″Greetings, creature,″ I beckoned. She flitted about before bellowing.

″THE ROOM WOULD BE HAPPIER WITH LESS LIGHTS ON!″

Any light source no longer mattered; the area was already dim as it was, but the air within changed to that of pitch blackness.

″Is that so?″

″I CAN ALREADY FEEL THE HAPPINESS LEVELS RISING!″

″I see. It seems we may have similar goals.″

″GOALS? WHAT ARE THOSE?″

″Wants. Desires.″

No response.

″What we desire is to make this world happier.″

″OH MY GOD! THAT'S SO WONDERFUL!″

″Do you desire it too?″

″I CAN MAKE IT HAPPEN!″

I already knew that. Which is why it was so important to have her in our disposal.

″Good. Tell us, do you have a name?″

″NAME? WHAT'S THAT?″

She must have known what names were. There were names for objects. Names for places. Names for people. Everyone and everything had a name, even if names differed between those giving and telling it.

″Very well. From henceforth, you shall be named Euphemism. If anyone asks what to call you, however, you are to address yourself as Euphoria. Understood?″

″My...name...is...Euphoria?″ She repeated, not giving her usual shout. From what could be gathered, she did not understand, but I had little patience for drilling it into her head. It was enough to know that I could call upon her.

If we were to gather even a small sample of whatever matter made up what she was, we could create many wonders. That much was clear.

Soldiers surrounded the door, guns loaded. I didn't have any special powers or anything. I wasn't a superhero, supervillain, otherworldly being, bitten by radioactive whatever, magician, etc. I never ate a magic fruit. I was just some lazy college student with nothing to lose. I wouldn't stand a chance against a dozen assault rifles, firing at once.

I knew all this, but I also have seen quite a few movies involving villains and it was clear that I was in the lair of one. I didn't have an exact clue what I was up against, but I knew what I could do.

″Hey, I'm going to die anyway. Why don't we talk for a bit?″ I asked.

″Very well,″ the lady in the lab coat agreed. ″Prinnies, hold your fire.″

I held in a chuckle. Out of all things to call a group of fearsome supersoldiers and they get called ″Prinnies″.

″So...uh...″ This wasn't good. I was granted a chance to stall and I couldn't even figure out what to start stalling with. ″What is this place?″

″Nothing you were meant to see.″

″Oh, I get that. 'Top Secret', right? Like Area 51 or some shit? That's why I can't be allowed to live, right? I've seen too much?″

″A valid answer. For anyone else, that would be true. For you, it is because you are a mistaken. An accident. You were never meant to be.″

″Hey! That's not very nice!″ I retorted. ″I'm sure my mom weighed the pros and cons about having a baby!″

″For all intents and purposes, I am your mother,″ she answered. I pictured her wearing a Darth Vader helmet. Otherwise, her revelation didn't really have a lasting effect on me. She was probably saying that to be dramatic. Which I totally get. Gotta play up that angle. ″You are a clone.″

″Yeah, I know,″ I replied, and gave a fake yawn for added measure. ″I'm a copy of a copy of a copy. Whatever.″

″You are aware? How?″

″Well, I kinda figured. Seeing another me will do that to ya, y'know?″

″Then you know why you must die. You are a loose end. There should never exist more than one of someone.″

″I guess I see where you're coming from, but just so ya know, you're wrong. I don't see a problem with there being more than one of someone, from a moral standpoint or otherwise.″

″You are inferior. You cannot match to the original.″

″So what? Maybe that's true, maybe I can be an exact replica and still different. Doesn't mean I'm not good in my own right. Think of it like an MP3 or pirating a copy of something. Sure, the quality may go down with each copy, but it can still be enjoyed throughout by many and most of the time the lower quality is so small that it doesn't even make a difference.″

″Why would you attribute yourself to a piece of software?″

″Why not? They say the mind is like a computer.″ I may not have been much, but I was nothing if not a bullshitter. Had to be in order to stay in college.

″Enough! I've grown tired of your stalling! A filibuster may work in a senate hearing, but such tactics are of no use here! Prinnies, open fire!″

Well, shit, I thought.

The sound of gunfire pierced through my eardrums. I covered both ears and got to my knees, but when the gunfire stopped I looked behind me and noticed something: I was still alive.

″What gives? Where's the earth shattering ka-boom? There's supposed to be an earth shattering ka-boom!″ I joked, knowing full well what went on.

Euphoria charged past the mercenaries, shoving them aside and causing them to fire their guns at the walls making up the doorway. The bullets ricocheted off the wall and fired back at each of their heads, the impact somehow strong enough to decapitate each and every one of them in perfect succession. While it seemed awfully improbable, I wasn't about to question it.

″HAPPINESS TO THE RESCUE!″ She cheered, waving her hands about and jumping at me.

″Euphy, right on cue,″ I smiled and stood proud.

″Ah, so you've met our creation, Euphemism, also known as the ETNA project.″

My face went blank. ″The what now?″

″E.T.N.A., stands for Euphoric Transdimensional Nature Alterer. Or you can think of her as Euphemism, a term for when a not so savory thing is giving a more appealing name.″

I sighed. I should have figured.

″That's not true and you know it,″ I told the lady, shaking my head in disappointment. ″Euphy has no true name, and she's not a project! Euphy is Euphy!″

Blanc had escaped within a hair of their life. There were now two Blancs roaming about. We couldn't allow such a thing, but there were already provisions in place to ensure things would continue as they should. Ecstasy, an experiment created from a trace amount of the creature that came to visit us and linked to my essence was already inhabiting the Blanc who had escaped. All that was left was to wait and the rest would fall into place.

Bad news: we just saw the second Blanc, Ecstasy and I saw with the same eyes, and yet she felt the same need to tell me, as if she was telling Blanc. Sometimes it was a burden knowing my system was still plagued with imperfections.

″Fear not,″ I informed her. ″Nothing is hindered.″

Only a short time later, we were wrong. As much as Ecstasy would lead Blanc to the same fate sooner or later, we still couldn't completely control their thoughts and actions. Blanc had the ″brilliant″ idea of telling their replica to try throwing a paper ball into the elevator. We already knew why; they thought it would save the replica as well as reveal the truth of what makes up the inside of the elevator. The unfortunate truth was that Blanc did not foresee a third Blanc being created, whereas we did. We could not allow such a thing to happen.

The creature, if she could even be called such a thing, was already in our chambers.

″Euphemism, go forth and act as the guardian angel of the one who goes by Blanc Slait.″

″AYE-AYE!″ She complied and vanished. We knew it would not be immediate, but all that was left to do at that point was wait and put our faith in this being which had already proved to be a valuable asset for us.

″So that's how it is, then?″ I whispered. I would say my heart sank at the reveal, but that wouldn't have been the right way to phrase things. It felt like the feeling in your body when someone tells you they're breaking up with you or that you failed a test. A bit of a cold feeling followed by tremors and a tightening of the senses. Your heart beats felt neither slower or faster, but rather more pronounced. Your face in a position as if you had a moderate dose of Botox. Your eyes in a state where you were at the beginning of your high after eating a couple of pot brownies.

″I feel like I've lived a whole life, but my life's just begun. All of these memories, they were made by someone else who I look like, whose name I share,″ I spoke up just a bit, but each word spilled were gasps for air. I was in a state where I both felt like I could burst into tears and break down yet also felt too numb to be able to conjure any up. I know it sounds dramatic, but it was a dramatic feeling. At least before I concluded.

″It really did make me happy to find out,″ I told Euphy.

″I'M GLAD!″ She replied, and even though it was her usual grin that she wore, there was something on her face that hinted at concern.

″I guess I should have figured. There were signs all over the place, but I was always open to other possibilities. That's how I've always been...when something comes out about government corruption I would always tell myself that they still have our best interests at heart and there was a good reason for what they did.″

I stopped. Euphoria hugged me, though she probably would have evn if I wasn't talking to the void over what she had revealed to me. I gave a little laugh. It was fake, but I probably would have still laughed even if I didn't feel like I had to force it.

″I say 'always'. I guess that's not really the case. I've only had these thoughts since I was born. Though, really, what's the difference?″

There was an increased confidence; something stirred in me that may have been brought on by the truth which I pressed her so hard for.

″Come on, Euphy!″ I took a step forward, after standing still for the past few minutes. ″We have to find the exit!″ My body was still shaking and each step was met with a heavy heartbeat. It didn't help matters that her embrace made it harder to walk and I wasn't used to someone hugging me, let alone someone with an indescribable nature.

Most of my so-called 'life' I hadn't really experienced, but that didn't mean I couldn't form any memories of my own. Besides, many people share the same name and are totally different people. Maybe I could be the same way.

″What gives?″ I asked. ″Why'd you stop?″

We had been crawling along with slow movements, still trying to get to the hanger where my ship was kept.

″We reached the vent,″ Conrad muttered. ″But I can see guards lurking about.″

Just my luck. Emphasis on my, of course. My life's been a string of ″just my luck's″ with a healthy dose of ″you've got to be kidding me″ sprinkled on top.

″Any bright ideas?″ I snickered, knowing full well that Conrad had none. I didn't know why I felt the need to rub it in when I was out of ideas, myself.

″I've got a laser pointer,″ he mentioned.

″C'mon, I wanna get on my ship, already!″ I fumed.

From what I could see, the guards had no idea there even was a ship, since the ship was cloaked at the moment and appeared invisible to the naked eye. Actually, even if they were to bump into it, they probably wouldn't notice since the ship can just pass through matter when cloaked.

Conrad fumbled through his pocket. I noticed the red light of the laser pointer and I could tell that he was about to shine it. I didn't know if I could classify whatever he was about to do as a ″brilliant plan″, but if we were thinking literally, it was a ″bright″ idea.

″What are you doing? You trying to get us both killed?″

He shushed me and I was about to push him (and probably be the cause of his death) when I heard gunfire and screams of pain.

″I can't believe it...″ he whispered.

″What?″

″I just made that guy shoot the other guy. I didn't think it would work,″ he remarked.

I gotta say: Conrad's 'pointing a laser pointer at the guard's head' idea was stupid, but the guard was stupider for falling for it. Now we just had to see if it would work for the rest of them.

Her expression changed to that of disgust.

″Who's side are you on?″ She demanded.

″THE SIDE OF HAPPINESS!″ Euphoria cheered.

″That's our side!″

I took the opportunity to try running up to her and punching her smack dab in her jaw. My fist was all ready to go and I took the leap, only to find myself going right through her and crashing to the floor.

″What the...″

I stared up. She turned around and flashed a smile that grew wider and wider. Static flickered through her body and part of her faded in and out.

″You're a hologram!″ I exclaimed.

″I am but an AI, the manifestation of the computer system known as ETNA,″ she explained.

″So what you're saying is that you're full of yourself?″

She frowned. So much for that smug look on her face. I couldn't help myself but laugh.

″Euphy, it would make me really happy if I could punch her right now!″ I called out.

″HAPPINESSS AWAITS YOU!″ Euphoria sang while skipping across the room.

I leaped to my feet and hit Etna, the not-so-hologram across the cheek.

″Wow, I can't believe that worked,″ I remarked.

She turned her head, her face a deep grimace. She pressed her palm against my stomach and I felt a surge of electricity push their way through me, working my blood and sending me flying. I could only imagine what my hair looked like at the moment. I guess I was fortunate enough to be alive, even if a bit crispy.

″You have quite the guile ,″ she complimented.

″No,″ I said with a smile, still on my back, and having difficulties getting up. ″I'm just dumb.″

″Alas, it is time for your existence to end,″ she announced as metal claws flew out from the floor and ceiling and shot toward me.

No! That would not make me happy! I thought. What would have made me happy is if I was able to call Life Alert, but I wasn't about to think that with Euphoria in the room.

I could still hear the claws whizzing toward me. Maybe Euphoria wasn't going to save me this time. Maybe she was on the side of this evil computer scientist. I held my hand over my face and looked away. I didn't want to face whatever was going to crush, strangle, or smash me. I wanted to see nothing at the time of my death. So close now. I could feel the wind from the claws brushing my short, black hair. The same hair that was probably standing up from the electric shock.

And then...nothing.

I pulled my arm away and looked up.

The metal claws were moving about every which way. Euphoria was floathing in midair, as she did, her arms outstretched as she seemed to command the claws with her very presence.

″Good job, Euphy!″ I called out to her.

″YAY! BLANC IS HAPPY!″

More claws shot out and started moving in conjunction with the previous claws. If they weren't away from me, I would have been in a deep fear. Instead, I just kept smiling and shaking my head.

″Those weren't there before!″ Etna cried.

″THE CLAWS WERE LONELY WITHOUT A DANCING PARTNER, BUT THEY'RE HAPPY NOW!″

″I've had enough of this nonsense! Prinnies, come to the control room at once!″

Shit. Of course there would be more of them.

Within just a moment, more guards entered the room, but instead of opening fire, they dropped their weapons and started dancing around.

″YAY! EVERYBODY DANCE!″

Etna watched in disbelief, helpless at her mercenaries not following her orders. She turned around and stared back at me.

″There are still ways,″ she growled, and pressed her foot against my stomach.

″Ech! Ech!″ I squirmed and struggled to breathe.

Before she could squish the life out of me, one of the claws grabbed her and carried her off toward the ceiling.

″IT WANTS YOU TO DANCE WITH THE REST OF US!″

I gasped for air. It took quite a bit of strength, but I leaned up and saw Etna being the one to squirm around.

″This is madness!″ Etna shouted, furious as ever.

I had an opportunity. I was going to seize it.

″No. This! Is! Euphoria!″

I then leaned my head back down and went hysterical. All of this unfolding before my eyes. It was like I was a kid at a party and the bouncy castle was just a few feet away.

I looked up and Euphoria was staring right at me, her bug-eyes reflecting my messy face. She wore a cuter smile then any I could have imagined.

″CAN I GET A PAT ON MY HEAD?″ She asked.

She leaned down and I reached my hand up, somehow our respective actions meeting somewhere in the middle and I was able to give her a little pat.

″YAY!″ She jumped off.

The tiles on the floor started bouncing up and down as if it really were one big, metallic, bouncy castle all along. The monitors all turned on and spelled out the word ″happy″ over and over. The ceiling made waves. The doors opened and closed on their own.

I shook my head, unable to break away from the smile I had on my face.

Etna, on the other hand, seemed to not be enjoying her new life.

″I want to be a hologram again,″ she whimpered.

Euphoria must have figured that would make Etna happy as without any hint of transition, Etna phased through the claw and brought herself down to the floor. From what I gathered, Euphoria did not have a sense of pity or sympathy, only a sense of what would make someone happy or unhappy.

She straightened her glasses and fixed her face until it was back to wearing a stone cold expression.

″The previous one was so much easier...″ she muttered.

I pulled myself to my feet. ″I guess I won't be able to punch you again,″ I sighed.

″Indeed,″ she agreed. ″This is goodbye for now.″ She, or rather, her image, disappeared. The monitors that previously displayed the word ″happy″ across every screen now showed nothing. In fact, there was no hum to be heard. No lights on on the monitors or the computers that accompanied them.

The floor was still. There were no claws. The prinny squad (as I figured I would call them) were writhing on the floor, giggling ceaselessly. Their laughs harmonized and through the helmets I thought I could hear the voices of demons reaching out from the pits of hell.

Arms found their way around me and squeezed me from behind.

″DID I DO A GOOD JOB?″ Euphy asked.

I nodded. ″Yes, very good.″

″YAY!″ She cheered, rubbing her head against my back.

Before I had a chance to step forward and examine the computers, a flight of stairs appeared.

It was only a few steps of stairs, and they didn't seem to lead anywhere.

″I dunno...what if it kills me?″ I reflected, recalling the imagery of the elevator. Sure, I remember riding it once before, but that was a lie. Someone else entered. Someone else who was me, but who isn't me now. ″What do you think, Euphy? Should I risk it?″

I turned around and she was nowhere to be found. I should have noticed that there wasn't anything pressed against me, but I was lost in thought and it seemed just like her to come and go without any hint of leaving.

I gulped. It could have been a trap, but nevertheless, I took the first step. Actually, that was a stupid thought. Since when has anything horrific ever happened involving stairs leading nowhere? I was almost there, and no spinning blades nor any other phenomenon. It was actually kinda disappointing.

On the very last step, I was about to walk back down, but just as I turned around, a hand reached out and grabbed me.

I fell onto the floor. But not the same floor that I had already fallen on twice. This looked to be a different room entirely.

Did I die? Is this a new body? Have I been teleported somewhere?

″Ugh, I can't believe I had to pull you in,″ a voice complained.

I turned around behind me. Nope. The voice wasn't coming from behind me. I did notice the stairs folding up, though.

I looked in front of me and was met by a pair of legs. I looked up further and was relieved to find that the pair of legs were attached to someone: a red head wearing some spy outfit or at least what I imagine a spy would wear.

″Stop staring at my legs and get up. It's making me a little uncomfortable,″ she commanded.

I picked myself up off my feet. ″Sorry. It's just one of those things where you're not sure if you're dreaming or just having quite the day,″ I tried to explain.

″You could have just said 'sorry' or 'sorry, I've just had a batshit day',″ she corrected.

″Uh, right. So, uh, where am I?″

″You're aboard my ship. We're rescuing you.″

My eyes widened. ″That's so cool!″

″Yeah, I guess it is. Though the charm'll wear off after a while.″

″Don't mind Velvet, she just loves to complain!″ Came another voice calling out.

″I do not!″ She complained.

I looked behind Velvet and saw a figure in a hoodie slouched in a chair.

″Who's the skeleton?″ I asked Velvet.

″That's Conrad.″

I looked back at the figure, then back at Velvet.

″So that's what he looks like underneath the hood and glasses?″

She snickered. ″You hear that, Conrad? You've got a fan!″

I ran over to where Conrad was sitting just as he was pulling his hood back up. My heart was beating at an unusual rate, though given the thrills I've experienced all in one day, it shouldn't have been all that unusual.

″I feel like I've known you most my life, and yet this is only my second time meeting you,″ I began. ″Even then, I feel like that other time doesn't count. I didn't know who I was then.″

″But you know now?″ He asked.

″Well, I know what I am, I've still gotta learn the rest.″ I wiped my face. There were tears that I didn't even feel forming, yet they trickled down my face. ″I feel like my life's just beginning.″

Velvet interrupted my little introduction and shoved me aside before taking a seat.

″If you two are done, we've gotta get a move on.″

I looked at the pilot's controls and then looked out the window, displaying the room we were in. Not much about the ship made sense to me. I shook my head and looked at her.

″Where are we going?″

″Egypt.″

I mouthed ″whoa″ before bracing myself, holding tight to the seats Conrad and Velvet occupied.

Even with a new adventure awaiting me, I felt Euphoria's absence. I wondered if she would ever reappear and if so, in what form. I took a deep breath and sighed.

I knew I wasn't yet happy.

[thank-you-for-the-vampire-money]

CUDDLE BUDDY

Request by Anonymous: “Hi I would like to request a Bucky x reader where the reader is an avenger and is very touchy feely and hates sleeping alone so she ends up randomly sleeping in other team members beds and they'll just wake up and she'll be in their bed and they've all just accepted it. Buckys new and she ends up going to him and he wakes up with her in his bed and is all confused and has to go ask Steve about it and Bucky just ends up being all fluffy with the reader.”:

A/N: Thank you for the request!  Finally got my writing mojo back!  Hope you enjoy!

Bucky x reader

Word count: 1397 (yeesh, this turned out way longer than expected)

Summary: You are in need of constant physical touch, everyone on the team knows this.  But when Bucky joins the team and no one tells him about your craving for touch, things get a little awkward.

Warnings: none, I think

(GIF not mine)

Physical contact, it’s a basic human need.  From hugging to hand holding, to little kisses or high-fives, we all need a little physical affection every once in a while. But for (Y/N), that need was constant. Now, her craving for hugs and affection wasn’t obnoxious, no, not at all.  It was viewed more as an adorable quirk than an annoyance by the other Avengers.

(Y/N) would always be giving out hugs or holding someone’s hand, but one thing that she did that was somewhat peculiar, was sleep with other team members.  Not in a sexual way, she would just sleep in the same bed as other teammates. Everyone knew about this, and everyone accepted it.  And, it was kinda nice to have another body to cuddle up to every so often.  Not to mention it helped rapidly melt the leftover tensions between all the Avengers.

 Bucky was the new guy in the tower.  After what happened with whole Zemo mess, the least everyone could do for Bucky was give him a safe roof to live under and a warm bed to a sleep in.  But, he still felt as though he didn’t deserve any of it, not after all he’d done.

Steve was currently showing his best friend around the tower.  He had shown him the lab and all of Tony and Bruce’s cool gadgets, he had shown him the huge party/ living room, and the enormous kitchen with a giant refrigerator that Bucky would soon raid.  Bucky thought it was cool, living in Stark Tower and all, and he was very grateful to have a proper home, but he was still a little apprehensive about meeting everyone. Who would want to be friends with the former Winter Soldier?

“Buck, this is (Y/N),” Steve introduced, stepping from in between Bucky and (Y/N) so they could properly greet each other. “Hello,” (Y/N) smiled, cheerfully holding her hand out for Bucky to shake it.  Bucky averted his eyes, unwilling to make direct eye contact. (Y/N) was one of the few people on the team that didn’t choose a side during the infamous civil war between the Avengers, and Bucky didn’t want to corrupt her unbiasedness by getting involved in her life in any way.  "Hi…” Bucky muttered, hugging his arms to his chest and curling in on himself. (Y/N) awkwardly retracted her arm, “oh… well, uh, h-hope to see you ‘round…” she whimpered, displaying her disappointment at Bucky not greeting her before shuffling away timidly.

 Bedtime.  When all of the tower fell silent in a state of stillness and peace… unless you were James Buchanan Barnes.  Night time was absolute hell for Bucky.  He’d either go to sleep and endure horrific nightmares and wake up in a cold sweat or spend the whole night awake and aware of everything his weary mind had to scream at him.  It was a lose-lose situation when it came to bedtime.  But, nonetheless, Bucky would get ready for bed and make an attempt at getting a few hours... minutes of sleep.

Bucky stood in front of the mirror, wearing nothing but some flannel pajama bottoms and a navy t-shirt.  He lazily brushed his teeth as he contemplated whether or not going to sleep was a really good idea.  On one hand, you’ve got mentally and emotionally scarring nightmares that will haunt your dreams forever, but in the other, you’ve got depressive and anxiety-filled screams of agony contained inside your overly-awake mind.  At least in the former Bucky got to recharge himself in some sense.

Bucky pulled his hair into a tight ponytail before settling in under the cool temperature of his puffy duvet.  He gently lay his head on his cold pillow and closed his eyes, expecting to fall asleep, only wake up in an hour screaming bloody murder.

 But he didn't.  He didn’t wake up at an ungodly hour of the unholy morning, screeching like a banshee.  No, he actually slept through the whole night.  Not only that, but he made it the whole night with no bad dreams whatsoever. It was a very rare occurrence for Bucky to sleep through the night, he couldn't help wonder why or how he'd done it.

 Bucky’s eyes gently flickered open.  His pupils dilating as they adjusted to the bright light of the early morning sun's warm welcome.  A wide, close-mouthed smile spread across Bucky's lips as he realized what that joyful sunlight meant; he had gotten a full night’s sleep for the first time in months.

With a long stretch and a dramatic yawn, Bucky’s well-rested body slowly stirred awake.  But he immediately tensed as he detected another body sleeping next to him. It was (Y/N).  Bucky nearly jumped out of his skin as (Y/N) stirred and turned over to face him, “mmm… mornin’…” (Y/N) murmured, still half asleep.  What should he do?!  Bucky hadn’t been this close to someone like this in ages.  Why was she even in his room in the first place? Maybe she was the reason the nightmares never came...

Not knowing how to react, Bucky panicked, cautiously rolling out of his bed and quickly backing out of his room.

Throughout the whole day, Bucky avoided (Y/N) like the plague.  Dodging her in hallways, avoiding all eye-contact, randomly dropping out of conversations just because she so happened to join one he was in.  It wasn’t because he was angry or afraid, it was because he was confused.  First, why was she even in his bed anyway?  Second, he was wondering if the fact that this was the first night in months that he was able to sleep all the way through with no interruptions and that this was the first time he had been so close to another human being in years, were more than just coincidences.

 “Steve?” Bucky called, catching up to his best friend in the hallway, “can I ask you something?” “shoot,” Steve responded, slowing down and turning to face his friend.  Bucky hesitated for a moment before asking his question.  Would it be weird to ask Steve about what happened with (Y/N)?  Was it inappropriate?  would Steve even have an answer?  “I uh... found (Y/N) in my bed this morning-” Bucky started to explain, but Steve interrupted him with an amused chuckle, “oh!  Ha, yeah, (Y/N) is a big cuddler,” Steve snickered, placing his hands on his hips.  Bucky was very puzzled at this statement.  “(Y/N) finds it very difficult to sleep on her own, so she’ll usually join someone else in their bed,” Steve elaborated, “she’s not trying to sleep with you or anything, she just wanted a cuddle buddy for the night,”. Bucky paused for a moment.  Was (Y/N) lonely?  Is that why she needed to sleep with someone?  Was she just touchy-feely?  Whatever the reason, he understood the basic need for human contact.

 (Y/N) didn’t mean to startle him, she just needed someone to sleep with.  Hopefully, she didn’t scare Bucky off too much.  Even if she hadn’t, it seemed best to give Bucky some space, she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.  So, she would return her stuff to her room and find another teammate to bunk with for the night.   “Uh, (Y/N)?” Bucky breathed from his slightly open bedroom door.  (Y/N) turned her head away as she continued picking up her blankets and pillows, “what are you doing?”.  Bucky sounded almost disappointed at her packing up her things. “I’m uh… moving my stuff back into my room.  I figured you’d want your personal space back,” (Y/N) answered simply, grabbing her water bottle off the nightstand.  Bucky stepped into the room far enough so he was standing at the foot of his bed, “ya know… you could just sleep here… i-if you wanted to…” he stammered, rubbing the nape of his neck, "I don't mind if you stay...".  (Y/N) smiled at the brunet super soldier. Guess she didn't scare him off. Setting her stuff back down on the bed, (Y/N) grinned and said, “I’d love to,”.

A/N: Please excuse my poor writing skills, I had to stay up til 2am last night doing work and I had to get up early today, so I’m very tired.  I’ll probably edit this tomorrow and fix any grammar mistakes and such that I missed.  Keep sending requests!  I love to hear from you guys!  Thanks to those who have sent requests!  I have one other one that I will work on and (possibly) post tomorrow!