#I’ve got something else cooking too but it needs to simmer longer

[habken]

little doodle of the boys :’))

[donaweasley]

What If

Pairing: Loki x Fem! Avenger! Reader

Plot:

A silly game of “What-Ifs” between two friends eventually leads to the realisation that the future, if spent together, may not be as bleak as they had anticipated it to be. A dialogue-based best friends-to-lovers cliché.

Warnings: Relationship angst, too many dialogues, long read, happy ending!!!

Read time: ~28 mins

Author's Note:

It's a long read with far more dialogues than can be deemed healthy. The reason is, I didn't want their arc to feel rushed. It had to be cooked slow. Another reason is that, I can't help hearing my characters, and it triggers a flood of dialogues! I'm trying to work on controlling it. 😬 Hope you enjoy!

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

“C’mon! You’re breaking the rules now,” Loki casually waved his hand at his best friend.

“I’m not. There’s nothing to answer really,” (Y/N) replied with a shrug.

“There must be something on your mind!”

She pretended to think for a second, and shook her head.

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

It was a usual night in the compound. It was just another night when one of these two friends had called the other in the middle of the night for some midnight snack. It was just another of those happy times when they had tiptoed into the kitchen like thieves because...no, no one would mind some missing nachos or ice creams, but because it was fun!

It wasn’t easy for Loki to open up to someone, let alone to allow the other person in. Neither was it easy for (Y/N) to trust somebody, given her past, especially when that somebody was infamous for betraying almost everyone, at every step, not to mention his attempts at ruling Earth and causing massacre.

But time is a healer and a magician.

And here they were now, looking at the moon-washed night life through the west-facing glass wall, and playing a game of “what-ifs”. One would say that it was silly and immature; some would even call their talks gibberish. But when the night was so relaxed and carefree, why wouldn’t they be?

The pale yellow orb hovering above the western horizon cast a soft ray of light through the glass wall. Oblivious to its movements across the room, Loki and (Y/N) were wrapped in a thin blanket on a couch, their feet resting on two separate pouffes.

It had all started with a silly question, something like, “What if you weren’t stuck in this building tonight?”, or something along those lines; they didn’t even remember correctly anymore.

One question led to the other, and soon they found themselves tangled in a game of questions that would have been enough to create an alternate reality. But eventually, they found themselves, not answering with imaginary scenarios, but debating over one particular question:

“What if you find the love of your life tomorrow?”

This question was posed by Loki, rather theatrically, amidst the many others that had tossed different possibilities of their near future. And it was here that (Y/N) refused to play along anymore because, as she stated, it was “the most silly question ever”.

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

“So, you claim that my question is even worse than your ‘What if you were a Jotun cat’? What kind of a question is that anyway?” Loki teased.

“Of course, it is. Undoubtedly!” With one wave of her hand, (Y/N) dismissed his appeal.

“And how is that even logical, may I know?”

“C’mon, this entire game is out of the boundaries of logic,” she claimed. “Your behaviour is like that of a cat. Don’t make that face; it brings you closer to being a cat. And...a Jotun cat sounds cool!”

Loki sighed. “And my question is ridiculous! If the game is beyond all reason, then...” he shrugged, “say something...weird, and move on!”

“Fine! If I-if... If I meet the love of my life tomorrow,...I’ll stab him. Or her. Or them. I don’t even know.” She huffed.

“Ouch!” Loki made a face, ”Didn’t see that coming. I would enjoy the stabbing part though. Thank the Norns, you never declared your feelings for me!”

She looked at him sideways with a stern face. Loki noticed the irritation simmering just beneath her skin, ready to burst out at the next prodding.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on her arm, “what happened? Was it something I said?”

She turned her face away. But Loki wasn’t giving up that easily.

“(Y/N),” he gently tugged at her arm, “look at me.”

When she finally turned towards him, he held her by the shoulders just to make sure that she couldn’t move away again.

“Now, you’ll tell me everything. What happened?” He inquired again. “I thought you were having fun.”

“It’s nothing Loki, it’s just that...you know I don’t like discussing my non-existent love-life. It’s...it kind of makes me...sad sometimes. Especially in a setting like this!” She waved her hands at her surroundings. “I mean, look at it, a full moon, a silent night, blankets and… It just leaves me with this reminder that I’ll be alone all my bloody life!”

Loki’s hands slowly retracted from her form and folded themselves on his chest. And just like that, they both found themselves staring out of the window.

“I’m sorry,” Loki’s voice audibly reflected the guilt that had formed within, “I never intended to...”

“No, you shouldn’t be. It’s...I overreacted. I’m sorry, Loki. I just ruined the mood. Shit! And it’s not my hormones, mind you!”

“I know,” Loki chuckled. “And you did not ruin anything. It’s natural to feel, isn’t it?”

She looked at him with a raised brow, “Somebody’s learning!”

“Somebody’s got a good teacher,” he smiled.

“Aww!! I love it when you acknowledge my awesomeness!” She wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in closer, and pinched his cheek.

“Ugh! Let go of me! Let...go!!”

The room was filled with (Y/N)’s cackles and Loki’s threats as he wriggled out of her grip.

“Do that one more time, and I’ll stab you!”

But it wasn’t enough to stop her chortles.

“Would you now?” she teased, and raised her hands again in a faux attempt at squeezing his cheeks.

He swatted them away.

“Stop it!” He warned again, only to emanate snorts from her.

But the next second, his voice changed into a compassionate one, “Why do you think you’ll be alone all your life? How old are you anyway? 80? 90? Isn’t that supposed to be old in human years?”

Once again her cheerful mood fled behind a thick curtain of annoyance. But this time she did not look away. She simply rolled her eyes, and pulled her legs from the pouffe to sit cross-legged, and shifted to face him.

“No, I’m not that old. But why are you suddenly so interested in this topic?”

“Because suddenly, you seem to have found an interest in getting annoyed.”

“Then don’t annoy me.”

“Not in my nature, I’m afraid.”

She couldn’t decide whether to hit him or laugh at him.

“Loki-” She curled her fists and shut her eyes.

“I’m listening, darling,” he smirked.

Of course, she knew how stubborn Loki could be!

Who else would know that better than me?

“Okay,” she placed her palms flat on her thighs, “the thing is...I can never make a relationship last more than two years. I waste my time trying to establish a...a proper, long-lasting relationship - something permanent - and end up with a heartbreak. Every. Fucking. Time. I’ve given up. I’ve had enough! Now, even if anyone makes a move, or if I’m interested in someone, I just remind myself that it’s not gonna work! I just don’t put any effort anymore.”

Loki hummed in response; his eyes were focused on her as if he was trying to decipher a mystery.

“And,” she continued, “given my current ‘job’,” she air-quoted the word, “I’m more sure than ever that no one will last more than two months now!”

Once she voiced the storm in her head, her eyes softened and she looked down at her lap. Through hooded eyes, she stole a guilty, fleeting glance at her friend, who seemed to be musing about something really serious. His eyes were strained on the carpet, while his chin rested on a fisted hand balancing itself on his thigh.

For a long moment neither said anything. Only the distant buzz of the sleepless city floated through the air and filled the room.

It was Loki who disrupted the silence with a long and heavy sigh.

“I knew that Midgardian men were impatient, narcissistic-”

“Look who’s talking,” she smirked as she interrupted him.

He gave her a quick deadpanned stare before resuming, “-imbeciles, but I was beginning to think that they have good tastes in women. It’s disappointing, not surprising though, that they have proven me wrong.”

A small laugh almost made its way to its escape, but she pushed it back. “You think so?” She quipped.

He shrugged, “From what you’ve said, there is no reason to think otherwise.”

She sat a little straighter. “Really? Do go on!”

Loki immediately noticed the effect that he had planned for. Without giving away the joy of his small triumph, he continued, “Indeed! Look at you! You’re an amazing woman! You’re brave, witty, independent...smart...excellent with knives! And that’s my favourite thing about you, by the way. ”

Feigning offence, she exclaimed, “And I thought your favourite thing about me was that I tolerate all your tantrums, and keep up with your shenanigans.”

“I don’t throw tantrums, darling,” he pushed the accusation away with his silky tone, “and don’t tell me that you take no pleasure in the havoc that we wreck together.”

At this, she could no longer suppress the evil grin that spread across her face, “I do love a bit of chaos. It’s fun.”

“To think of it,” Loki added excitedly, “had you been on Asgard, you might have been the Goddess of Chaos!”

“Oh! Thank you!” She replied with a dramatic wave of her hands.

Both laughed at the way their words were unfolding.

“Thank you, Loki,” (Y/N) said after their little whirlwind of laughter had calmed down, “I guess I needed to hear something nice about myself. It’s been a long, long time since I heard it.”

“I meant every word of it,” he replied in a solemn tone that made something flutter in her chest.

Was it gratitude? Was it joy? Was it love for her best friend?

It was hard to tell. It seemed to be everything at once.

She simply smiled at him. “Even the ‘Goddess of Chaos’ part?”

“Especially that part,” he asserted, and she laughed.

“You’re the best, Loki!” She gave him a half hug.

“That, I definitely am. But you’re not too shabby yourself. And you should never ever be sad for someone else’s failure.”

“Alright, I get what you’re trying to do here,” she landed a playful punch to his shoulder. “I’m fine! Really! I just got a little carried away.”

“No, I really mean it,” he tried to assure her. “You are one of the most magnificent women I have known! And mind you, I’m rather picky in these cases.”

She laughed, “Of course, I’d know that! ... Loki, it’s...it’s alright. Some people just don’t have it in them to sustain relationships no matter how wonderful they are. I’m okay with it.”

“Come on! A narcissistic God is showering you with genuine compliments! And you’re still not convinced that it’s not your fault but of all those who failed to keep up with you?”

She tried another attempt at convincing him, “It works both ways.”

“Norns! I can’t believe you’re so foolish!”

“Enlighten me, please,” she drawled.

“I believe I have already established the fact that you are phenomenal.”

When she giggled and nodded, he carried on.

“Good. Now, your job, as you put it, shouldn’t be a hindrance in your relationship. You’re doing the marvellous job of being a guardian to thousands of people. People you don’t even know! How many would put their necks out there to do it?”

“C’mon, Loki, when duty calls, you have to leave everything behind and just go! Who’d tolerate that for days? They will snap one day.”

“I’d never do that!” Realizing his mistake, he quickly corrected himself, “What I mean is, had I been in their place, I’d have never done that.”

“That’s because you’re on the team,” she argued. “So, it’s normal to you.”

“No, it’s not because I’m on the team. I’d-” He sighed. “Fine, why don’t you try finding someone from this field? Stark’s parties are a great place to hunt humans.”

“‘Hunt humans’?” She snorted, “I like the sound of that. Nay, haven’t found anyone. Besides, mixing professional and personal life can be fatal. You never know when your personal life might get jeopardised because of a mission gone wrong. Y’know, the usual blame-game and all. I hate all that!”

Loki brooded over her words for a few seconds before asking, “I don’t get it. Why would it be fatal? I mean, look at us,” he gestured in between them. “We have a perfect understanding. We’d never blame the other for any petty thing. Or-or let it affect our friendship.”

“That’s because we have the perfect understanding, Loki! You said it yourself. It’s a rare thing that we have. And I can’t expect it to be with anyone else. They’re not you, Loki.”

“They’re not us,” he corrected her.

Joy seeped through his senses as he watched her face brighten up at his words.

With a nod, she continued, “You see, all that spark, excitement, promises - these sound really great at the beginning. As time passes, as the real world pushes in, love moves to the backseat. Love is not enough. There comes a time when you have to balance everything together, and love becomes one of those things. It becomes a chore.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow you,” Loki stated with a frown. “That sounds so sad!”

“It is!”

“Well, it shouldn’t be! Loving you shouldn’t be a chore! Let’s say...hypothetically...if I’m in love with you, then you’d be my passion. And passions never become a duty, not even in the worst of times. Instead, they help us breathe when everything comes caving in. You’d be my...my moment of peace in a war. How could I not be tempted to embrace this beautiful moment?”

“Unfortunately, Loki, that’s not how it works. See, when you have a lot on your plate, say your job, your dreams, your daily life and all the pressure that comes with these, you’ll find less and less time for your loved one. Things get hectic and eventually frustrating. You won’t be able to keep that flame alive even if you want to. And one day, you’ll come to realize that you have distanced yourself from your moment, even if you never wanted to. But it’d be too late. There’d be no going back.”

“I’d never distance myself from you! I mean, from my moment. I’ve been a king, and I know how taxing royal duties can be. Sometimes, it seemed like a luxury to get even a minute to myself.”

“See? So, how could you have found time for me?”

“I would have, darling. Not plenty, but whatever little time I’d have gathered, I’d have made them memorable. For you. For us. And maybe we could have gone on long rides occasionally. Rekindle the old flames? Or-or we could have gone on visits to other realms...for political reasons, of course, but could have taken the opportunity to spend a small vacation with each other. What do you say?”

Painfully tempting images of a life that could have been floated in her eyes.

“And what if we came back to Earth, and I got involved in...say, a job that was all hectic and left me all frustrated, and with little time for you?” She shrugged.

With a sigh, Loki shifted to face her fully. “We will take care of each other, (Y/N). If one gets low, the other pulls both up. And I know that together, we can do anything! I believe in you more than I believe in myself.”

She smiled brightly as she acknowledged, “That is...that sounds doable, yes.”

“You’re special,” he placed a hand on her cheek, “and you need to be treated in the most special manner. One that befits my queen.”

A moment passed between them as they looked into each other's eyes, both seeing the same beautiful picture.

His queen!

My queen!!

Wait, what is he...?

Damn! What am I doing! What will she...!

Loki cleared his throat as he abruptly pulled his hand back to his side.

“I’m sorry, I...”

“No, it’s okay,” she cringed at the way the words squeaked out of her. Clearing her throat, she continued, “We were just giving examples.”

“Yes, just examples,” he agreed.

“It’s fine! I understand.”

“Great! It’d have been quite...awkward...otherwise.”

“Oh no! It’s...uh...totally fine. We’re best buddies!” She gave his arm a light punch.

“Right!” He nodded, and focused his gaze on the floor.

After taking a minute to calm his heart, he wore his witty persona back.

“See, having a relationship is not at all tough. All you need is a good partner. And I’ve proved myself right again! No, wait. There’s something you mortals do. It’s...uh...about throwing something...”

“Goblets? We don’t do that. It’s you-”

“No, not throwing, it’s about dropping something...after you have proven a point...”

“...Mic drop?” She chuckled.

His eyes lit up.

“Yes! ‘Mic drop’. So, as I was saying, all you need to have a happy and successful relationship is a good partner. Mic drop!” He concluded as he mimicked the action.

She sighed. “There’s just one tiny problem. I’d probably never find the right person. The ones that flirt with me, don’t understand me, and the ones that understand me have friendzoned me.”

“I’ve never friendzoned you,” Loki quickly replied with a frown. “J-Just clarifying...in case you were talking about me.”

“Of course, I’m talking about you, you big oaf!” She flicked his arm.

“Hey! You friendzoned me.”

“No…? It was you! Well, yeah, I never tried to flirt with you or anything but...anybody could see that you were being just my friend.”

“I can say the same about you,” Loki playfully accused.

“Whatever,” she shrugged.

A thought started playing in her mind. And a couple of seconds later, she decided to say it aloud, “I...umm...Just curious...y’know, don’t take it in any other way. Did you ever think of flirting with me?” She put forward each word very cautiously.

Loki furrowed his brows, and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, she warned him, “Be honest!”

Immediately, his confident attitude changed into a helpless one. “Yes, I did. Maybe once. Or twice. But that was all! I assure you!”

She could hardly contain the amusement that was bubbling inside.

“What’s so funny about it?” Loki asked with furrowed brows.

“Nothing,” she shook her head as she tried to hold back her laughter, “nothing at all. It’s,” and then she lost it, “I’m sorry! It’s funny! I don’t know why, I find it funny hearing from you!”

“Look who’s laughing!” He said wryly. “I could clearly hear your thoughts the first few days after I stepped into this structure. Every compliment that your little mind cooed at my divine persona. And may I dare say that not all of them were decent.”

Her hysterics were long forgotten as her face went red at the comment.

“How dare you invade my mind?” Her hand had balled into a fist, ready to hit his arm when he caught it.

“I didn’t invade it, darling. You were practically shouting inside that pretty head of yours. I could have heard it from the other side of the planet!”

“That was a long time ago,” she refused to meet his eyes. “I make better choices and better decisions now.”

“Do you?”

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it without uttering a syllable, and crossed her arms.

Loki nudged her with his elbow. “Hey, it’s fun to tease you. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“I hate you,” she peeked at him through the corner of her eye.

“What can I say,” Loki sighed. “Alright, if you say so.”

She smirked as she glanced at him sideways.

Loki cleared his throat in a not-so-subtle manner. “So, the next time Stark throws a party, I’ll find someone for you.”

Immediately, she face-palmed, and groaned, “No.”

“What?”

“Please drop this topic. And you’d probably find me a psychopath, anyway” She joked.

“That hurt!” Loki exclaimed with a hurt look masking his humour, “do you think so little of me? Can’t I find a proper partner for my best friend, my darling?”

“No, it didn’t hurt. Don’t fake it. I know you better than anyone.”

“No, you don’t. You-”

“I do. And...I’m fine, Loki” she reassured him, “being with myself, with the people here, being with you.” She gently bumped her knee into his.

“Will these be enough?” His tone had left the playfulness behind. “Will I be enough? For all your life?”

She shrugged, “I think so. You...stick with me all the time, you understand me, you...make me feel good. What more could I want to be happy?”

“You know what more you are missing. A friend can never touch the boundaries of what a lover can give you.”

“I don’t need a lover. Just be with me all my life, and I won’t need anyone else.”

He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I will. I promise.”

Her playful smile was back. “Thanks for all the pep talk, my dearest God. But turns out that I’m better off alone. Now can we please go back to the game? It’s my turn to ask you.”

“Alright,” he smiled back, “if you say so.”

“Stop saying that!” A defeated sigh left her. “You won’t be convinced, will you?”

“Probably not. Because I know that this will gnaw at you again a few days later. I know you’ll be sad again. And that I won’t allow on my watch.”

“God!”

“Right here, listening to you!” Loki quipped.

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, ”Damn you!” And proceeded to put forward a proper argument.

“The reason why I’m avoiding a new relationship is because I don’t want another heartache. I can’t handle breakups. That’s why I’m...”

When Loki didn’t make another attempt at dissuading her from her arguments, she added, “I just...try everything to avoid a heartbreak. Because when I get one, I lose control over myself.”

“Yes, I’ve seen. Once.”

“Then you must have noticed how vicious I become. Sarcasm drips from my mouth all the time, I say things that I shouldn’t, I...I hurt people. And in turn, I hurt myself. I yell at those who want nothing but good for me. But...”

“But being mean seems to be the only way to mask the pain,” he finished her line.

“It does, yes!”

She looked at him, and into his eyes that silently spoke of the pain that was resurfacing. She remembered something.

“You and I are so...alike!”

He nodded with a smile. “And maybe that is why we understand each other more than anyone ever could. … But we’re more than just being alike, if you think about it.”

She noticed how his voice gradually rose from its usual calmness to an excited tone, and his hands moved with his words.

Loki continued, “You point out my mistakes but don’t accuse me like everyone else does. You show me what’s right. And there’s this-this thing about you, which is so scary...the way you make me do all the things that you want. I-I mean, I am the God here! But you…a mortal...how can you have so much power over me?”

He sighed as his voice dropped to a compassionate tone, “You make me happy, (Y/N). You’ve taught me to forgive when I can, to forget what I can’t fix.”

“Don’t always do that,” she interrupted with a smirk.

His evil smile made a brief appearance before he resumed his warm note, “I like being with you. No...I love being with you! You make me feel good. You make me feel...I don’t know.... You make me feel…”

“Complete?”

“Yes!” He observed her, “You complete me.”

For yet another time, silence enveloped them. The only difference was that this time, it was comfortable. Even in their hushed moments, they could hear each other, know what the other wanted to say.

After a while of exchanging quiet stares, (Y/N) spoke, “All this time I believed, but now I know for myself, that you are indeed Silvertongue!”

Loki looked at his lap and laughed, but in the pale light of the setting moon, she noticed the pink that had crept up his ears and cheeks.

“I meant every word of what I said,” he reassured her once again that evening.

“I know, Loki.”

Loki watched her as she shifted to a kneeling position, and leaned towards him. He felt his face becoming hotter as she supported herself on his shoulder with one hand, and placed a soft kiss on his cheekbone.

As she settled back, her lips tingled with the memory of Loki’s skin on it.

They had been best friends, yes, but she had never allowed herself more than a quick hug because she knew that Loki wasn’t someone open to random touches. And she wanted to respect that. Always.

But this peck felt right. It felt necessary. And it felt...different.

What happened next wasn’t guided by logic anymore, but only by their senses.

Loki put his legs back on the pouffe, and scooted a little closer to (Y/N). Taking the cue, she shifted so that her leg was stretched out, and back on the pouffe - not on hers but his - and sat close to him. He arranged the blanket so that it covered them both again.

Another stretch of silence enveloped them. To them, the moment was beautiful. To Loki, who had never experienced anything similar before, it was precious. If he could stop time, he would have done it right then and there.

“Why haven’t you found anyone yet?” She asked him.

“Royalty has its disadvantages,” he replied without taking a moment to think.

She leaned back slightly to get a good look at his face, “Didn’t you ever find anyone from the royal...uh...what do you call it? Of royal blood?”

Loki laughed at her naivety. “Can’t say I didn’t. But none of them were the one. Besides, most people chose my handsome brother over me. And if anyone chose me, well, it was mostly because of my royal title. None of them were real.”

“That’s awful! I would never have done that to you! I’d have chosen you for the wonderful being that you are. But, I get it; happens on our planet, too.”

“Everywhere,” he asserted.

“So...who do you think is the one for you?”

He looked down at her face, which was mere inches away from his. For the first time in months of their friendship, he felt something swell inside his chest at the closeness.

“I still don’t know,” he whispered, “but I think the Norns might have started giving me clues.”

He didn’t need to explain, obviously. All the tension that had been building up throughout the night had placed them both on the same page.

Without thinking, Loki moved his wrist so that his palm was facing the ceiling. And instinctively, (Y/N) placed her hand in it, their fingers closing around each other.

"It's odd," she announced after a while.

"Indeed."

"It's weird. I mean, what were we even thinking!" She huffed, although she was still clutching his hand, as was he holding hers.

"Exactly what I was thinking. You and me?” Loki laughed nervously, “Come on!"

"Yeah!"

"Right".

Silence, their faithful companion for the night, visited them once again.

"Could it be? You and me?" Loki’s voice was a little more than a whisper, and bordered on the edge of confidence and doubt.

"Doesn't sound so bad. Not after all these... Talks?" She whispered back.

"Right!"

"Right."

And once again, they fell quiet.

The strangeness of the moment pushed them both into a whirlpool of thoughts. From acquaintances to partners to friends to best friends to...lovers?

Can this even be possible? What if it’s just a passing phase? What if everything goes back to normal tomorrow? Will we still be able to talk normally? But… This feels right. Just...right.

With a sigh, (Y/N) put her head on Loki’s shoulder.

"I don't want to rush into anything and ruin what we have," she confessed in a hushed tone, eyes staring into the night outside.

"Neither do I. You're the only one I have."

With a raised brow, she looked up at him.

"And Thor," he corrected himself with a small smile.

"Glad you remember him "

"Shut up.

Slowly, hesitantly, Loki put his free hand around her. Unsure of the appropriateness of the action, he kept his arm loosely hanging around her frame.

He waited for a while. Had Loki looked at her face, instead of looking straight ahead in fear, he would have noticed the small smile that had formed on her lips.

When she didn’t flinch or protest, he began to rest his arm properly but gently on her. He even went ahead and made the slightest possible effort to pull her closer to him.

The smile that had started forming on her now spread wide enough to turn into a grin. Its reflection was found on Loki’s face, too, who could finally muster the courage to look at her, although he was equally worried that she would be able to hear his heart trying to hammer its way out of his chest.

With every minute that passed, Loki became more baffled, for he couldn’t decide which moment he’d frame and hang on the wall of his heart as the most precious one.

"Are you feeling hot?" She asked without looking at him.

"A bit, yes. You, too?"

"Quite a bit, actually," she gulped.

"Is it normal?"

"I guess, yes. Totally! Had we been cool about it, it'd have meant that there's no spark between us. It’d have felt awkward, wrong."

"So, you agree that there's a spark between us?" He didn’t even attempt to hide the mischievous smirk that shone on his face.

"I had always suspected," she nodded.

"Hmm. When was the last time we went out for dinner?" He asked.

“Probably last month...or was it-”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up to look at him. She could barely put a lid on her excitement.

"Are you proposing to take me out on a date?"

"Well, if we are going to do this, then I'd like to court you properly."

She felt like she'd burst out of sheer excitement.

"If you'd agree to it, that is" Loki clarified.

Taking a large breath, she replied, "I'd love it."

The night was going better than either had expected. Who would have thought that a game of weird questions and a few confessions could change their lives!

(Y/N) put her head back on his shoulder, and let her body slump against him. He held her confidently this time.

“It still feels weird though,” she declared.

“It does, yes, but...maybe this is...right?” In a long time, Loki was hopeful about something, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away. No.

“I hope so.”

“Me, too.”

“Just so you know,” she sat up straight, “Thor is handsome, yes, but you are devilishly charming. You’re intelligent, well-read, witty, sarcastic, great at combat...uh...”

“Go on,” Loki smirked, earning a playful glare from her.

“You are,” she continued, “seductive! And who can resist a sorcerer who knows his way around everything!”

The evil smile that Loki had put away found its way back on his face. “As far as I remember, I did nothing to seduce you. I wonder what will happen if I try...”

“Shut up, Loki! You know I give away raw compliments. I didn’t really mean...I didn’t think...”

He laughed heartily at the furious way she was blushing.

“I was only pulling your leg. I had imagined you to be wise,” he clarified.

“I am! It’s just... I was...” She shook her head.

“So,” Loki resumed, “you think I’m devilishly charming?”

“Drop the topic, please!”

“You can’t resist my sorcery, ha?”

“Please change the topic! Forget what I said!!”

Loki laughed as he continued teasing her. It wasn’t going to be an easy ride, she realized, with the God of Mischief, but it was going to be the best ever!

“(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?”

“I know it was your turn to ask but, what if...you and I are indeed meant to be together?”

She smiled as she rubbed her cheek on his shirt, “I think we’ll have a gorgeous future together. And...I’d love that more than anything else.”

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

The next morning...

“Morning, Wanda-”

“Shh! Shh!!” The red-haired witch silenced Natasha, and pointed towards the couch.

Curious, Natasha’s eyes followed the direction that Wanda’s finger was pointing at.

There, snuggled in a blanket, fast asleep, sat (Y/N) and Loki, their legs spread on a pouffe, tangled with each other’s. Loki’s arm was wrapped around her shoulder while she was holding his waist. Her head lay on his chest and his on hers.

“Aren’t they cute?” Wanda whispered.

Before Nat could reply, Tony’s voice cut the conversation.

“Who’s cute?”

This time, both the ladies shushed him, leaving a perplexed expression on his once sleepy face.

When they pointed towards the couch, Tony huffed, “These two! God knows what’s taking them so long to realise! They’re just so-” His face lit up. “Know what? I have an idea! I’ll make them confess. Who’s up for it?”

***

Now has a sequel: Their Little Secret

And...a song for keeping the feelings floating...💕

[ceruleanchillin]

5 Day Stay

| Or, Angel down bad for a week |

Angel x F!Reader

Warnings: language, infidelity, Angst (?), lil bit chili spice at the end

Mon:

Angel felt he was too young to consistently feel so bone-tired, yet that’s how his day had been ending for weeks now. Sometimes it was all he could do to get off his bike and make it to the door, only to have to rest his head against it to prepare to make it to the couch and collapse.

Tonight was one of those nights, and he wanted to be dead to the world until it dragged him back into it.

It was the smell of mixed spices that hit him first. It felt like he was in suspended animation, and slowly being released as different things started to register to him.

His TV was on, someone was rummaging through his kitchen, and music played faintly from his desk. Thinking back to the last time an unwanted guest was in his kitchen, he placed a hand on the holstered knife fastened to his back.

The fridge door closed, and you appeared in the window, eyes focused intently on whatever you were cooking on the stove.

He exhaled, feeling like complete shit. It only spoke to how weary his mind was that he could forget you were staying with him for the next week. Especially after the conversation that led to it.

“I don’t know Angel…really I can afford a motel for a few days.”

“Here? Rusted-through pipes will be the last thing your landlord is worried about when you bring back bedbugs and shit.”

Your eyes had widened at that, but still you brought up the thing that had been chained to your hesitation. “I mean….do you think it’s ok to do this? After we…Nails..Ang-“

He remembered a flash of irritation, more so at himself than you, when you said that. “Yes querida, fuck. If you’re so scared, I most likely won’t even be there the way things are going. Nails is out of town til’ next weekend…”

“Relax Ignacio.” you had cut your eyes at him, and he’d felt his dick jump like it did whenever you gave him attitude. “I’m just not trying to be a problem.”

Your voice calling his name brought him to the present. He caught the last part of your statement, that you didn’t know he’d be back.

“Yeah, we got in earlier than expected.”

“While you’re standing there like a weirdo, let me shame you real quick. How does a man in his thirties still have the kitchen of a frat boy?” You leaned on the sill of the divider. “You’re lucky I already knew you were sad in the kitchen. I had to bring my own tagine.”

He stepped into the kitchen, his stomach coming alive with interest. “One, I don’t know what that is, two, I can’t help it if the kitchen isn’t my preferred room of work.”

He peeked over your shoulder, but the unique pot kept him from seeing what you were making.

“Neither is the bedroom, unless that work is piling up dirty laundry.” you stuck your tongue out at him and turned back to your simmering dish.

“Ha ha. Dinner and a show, she does it all folks!” he collapsed at the table, the day catching back up with him. “Should put your ass on the club’s payroll. End the cashflow problem real quick.”

You turned to him, concern etched on your face. “I heard from Hank about that…sorry. I know now isn’t a great time for that at all.”

Things got awkward like they always did when you referenced the recent changes of his life. He wasn’t sad about getting another chance at fatherhood, this one more tangible than the last. However, he wasn’t entirely sold on everything he’d accepted along with it, and he was pretty sure you at least suspected that. It threw the previously comfortable confusion that was your relationship off track when it was touched on.

“No, it’s not.” was all he could manage.

It was quiet for a beat, the simmering of the food and quiet Neo Soul the only sounds.

“Well,” you started, turning off the burner. “At least you don’t have to eat like a ‘we got food at the house’ meme for once.”

He laughed, a genuine and needed laugh. “Ok, you know what? Keep talking about my pantry stocking skills, and I might take it personally.”

The rest of his night went that way. Anytime you and Angel got together, things were just…easy…better. You spent the evening eating in front of the TV (Angel getting all the way to thirds for what turned out to be olive chicken and roasted potatoes), trading jokes, and going over the finer points of Golden Girls. Angel learned you took it very seriously, and mocked you for being “old”.

It wasn’t until you were nodding off, and he was left with his own thoughts, that he realized he hadn’t enjoyed coming home this much since he moved in.

Tues:

Angel had dreamed he’d been back in his childhood home, but as a grown man. There was music coming from his parent’s room, and when he got to the doorway, his mom was at her dressing table. She hummed along to the soulful seventies music and smiled at him from the mirror. She said something, but he couldn’t make it out, and woke up in the frustration.

He jerked up from his position on his stomach, and slowly came to. With a grunt he wiped his hand down his face, glancing at his phone to find it was six in the afternoon.

It then occurred to him the music wasn’t just in his dream, it was coming from his bathroom. He got off the couch and followed the sound.

“Hey coma head.” you grinned at him from where you were doing your makeup.

He shook his head, trying to let go of the last vestiges of the dream, and how eerie the scene before him was.

He focused instead on the nightmare of products and alien looking tools surrounding you.

He kind of liked the mess, even if he couldn’t see the counter anymore.

“Hey hurricane Ulta.”

You made a face that was a cross between being amused and suspicious. “You sleep in your jeans and buy your shirts in pack form. Don’t act like you know what that is.”

He made a face of mock offense. “That’s so classist.”

This time you paused completely in you what you were doing and twisted your body to meet him. “Uh oh…let me find out you’re actually learning something from EZ.”

“Angel Reyes can know something about something, damn.”

You laughed, lowering your hands from where you’d been lining your eyes to avoid a mistake. “I’m only teasing you Angel Reyes.”

“Looks like you plan on teasing more than me. Some clown is gonna get his hopes and tiny dick up for nothing.”

“There’s this new club in the city that Belinda’s getting us into. It’s bad luck to buy your own drinks on the first night at a new place.” you adjusted the bodycon mini-dress for emphasis. “You doing anything?”

“Club shit.” he started picking through the products, sniffing them every so often. “Then I think I’ve got a call with Nails at some point.”

“You think?” you popped his hands when he got too close to the good stuff, or the things you were using currently.

“Yeah..I think.” he shrugged, only realizing how short he sounded when you winced.

He didn’t know why he got so annoyed when she was brought up around you. He wasn’t like that with anyone else, and he knew you were only trying to support his incoming changes.

“Ok..”

Awkward silence settled in before he found the words to break it.

“Why do you wanna know? You want me to be that clown?”

“Never.” you pinched his cheek, tone pure saccharine jest.

He muttered in Spanish, stepping around you to the toilet.

“Angel!” you exclaimed.

“What?! It’s my bathroom, I have to piss.”

“You better never make me angry Reyes, I could end your whole Casanova game with ease."

Wed:

“You holding on a little tight there mami!” Angel called over his shoulder with a laugh. “You said go fast."

“Shut up!” you giggled, but he wasn’t lying.

You’d asked Angel to take you to work on his bike since even though you spent so much time with bikers, you hardly got to ride one. You were going to the same place anyways. He had been all too happy to shake up his commute, but your speed challenge took it over the top.

He didn’t know how you were up so early, he personally felt like the bags under his eyes were like a PEZ dispenser. You’d gotten in at two am, and still got up with him at eight.

He loved watching you in the morning, you managed to be cheerful without being obnoxious, and it worked better than coffee for him.

He loved how much he was learning about you.

As he pulled onto the street beside the cafe you’d asked him to stop at, he felt your arms uncoil from around him. He may have pretended to shift just to make you pause and hold him a few seconds longer, but he wasn’t going to acknowledge that.

“I didn’t scream, and I’m not shaking, so you still have to buy my breakfast.” You unclipped your helmet, grinning the whole time.

You looked so pretty to him, with the sun hitting your eyes and hair just right. He could catch you at just the right moment, and you’d look so gorgeous, he struggled to believe you were real.

He cleared his throat, afraid his voice would crack if he didn’t. “Fair enough, come break my pockets then.”

You laughed, squeezing his chin and pointing out his pout. “You don’t even have to tell me once sir, I know my worth.”

Once inside, he trailed after you to the counter, using your head like an arm rest when you reached it. “That’s good.”

“Boy!” You swatted his hand away, and it was his turn to laugh at your adorable pout.

“New bet,” he stepped around you while the customer ahead of you wrapped up. “If I get your entire order just right, you buy lunch.”

“Deal.” you leaned on the counter, eyebrow raised at him in challenge.

Angel knew the best part of his day would be watching your expression go from smug to shocked out of the corner of his eye. He nailed every pastry, the iced coffee, and their preparation with ease.

The simultaneously impressed and amused barista looked to you for confirmation. She got a shocked nod in response.

“I know my worth too mama, so don’t skimp on lunch.”

“Fair enough.” You shook off your shock as you repeated his earlier words and shrugged. “Can’t complain I guess. I trained my work husband too well.”

He scoffed loudly, and the two of you went back to swapping smart ass barbs while he tried to ignore the lingering dip his stomach did when referred to him as “husband”.

Thurs:

Angel was a grown man, with years of grown man experience, yet he was sitting on the edge of his bed feeling like a teenager again.

The end of your stay was nearing, and every time he thought about you going back home, he felt weird. He was pretty sure that’s why he’d been a little snappy and annoyed easily at the club the past couple days. He just wasn’t ready to delve into that too much.

Regardless, he had to admit you had some growing effect over him. All morning, while he should’ve been resting and preparing for a charter visit, he was fighting off hard-ons thanks to you.

“Can I borrow your kitchen for the day Angel?” He mimicked your voice in a nasally mocking tone. “I’ll save you some when I’m done baking.”

He’d thought nothing of it when you asked the night before. Really didn’t even feel like you had to at that point.

He realized why when he saw that the desserts you were making for your friend’s brunch were elaborate as hell. The effort took all your attention, and unfortunately for him, his too.

You were baking a lot more than dessert and didn’t even know it.

Now he was hiding in his room, fighting off arousal he knew wasn’t appropriate. You weren’t his and he wasn’t yours.

That didn’t change the fact that you in a short silk lounge set, singing in French (how the hell did you know French?), doing domestic things in his home, did it for him.

He ran a hand over his hair, still damp from his cold shower, and forced himself to finish getting dressed. He had to be ready to face a room of dangerous bikers and prove his patched in worth. He couldn’t be thinking of weird little fantasies and parallels to his parent’s marriage.

He must’ve zoned out again, because you startled him enough to almost make him hit his wardrobe.

“Oh my god Angel try this! I think I did magic.” You excitedly thrust a red cookie his way.

Angel took the offered treat, and found it was a red velvet cookie. “It’s fucking good mi dulce.”

“Really?” You looked so hopeful, so beautiful, that he would’ve lied if the situation called for it.

“Yes, but you know you kill it in the kitchen.” He turned away to put on the flannel he’d fished out.

Now you were in his personal space, smelling amazing, and all his senses were under attack. He couldn’t trust Angel jr. at the moment.

“Baking is different. It’s a whole thing for me...I go all in.”

“I noticed your little Broadway production in my kitchen.” He kneeled down, pretending to look for his shoes as something to do while you were there.

“Don’t shame me.” You pressed your foot into his back, gently pushing him. “It makes for better results.”

‘shit.’ He cursed mentally at the contact.

Luckily, he heard you turn to leave the room. “Oh, EZ said to tell you to hurry up or pick up your phone.”

He rose up once you were gone and checked his phone. Sure enough, he had several missed calls and texts from Gilly, Coco, and EZ. He cursed aloud this time and finished getting ready, determined not to get distracted again.

Of course, his boys having to physically come in and get him when he did just that destroyed that promise.

Fri:

It had come down to the last night of your stay with him, and what he thought was a favor to a good friend, turned out to be more for his benefit.

The hell with the club seemed so far away when he was home now, and he’d laughed more times that week than he had the previous few months total.

Tonight though… Tonight had him so in his head he didn’t know if he was coming or going.

You, sensing something was going on with him, had invited EZ and Felipe to dinner. He didn’t know how you got the latter to agree, his dad had never even been in his home before, but you did it. It went over a hell of a lot better than the last time they tried it too.

The missteps that reared their head when his family tried to talk to each other at length were mitigated by you. You were the perfect buffer, able to get them to engage with you and then each other.

He saw his family in an unfamiliar, but favorable light. His father was actually enjoying his time with him in his house. He knew that night wouldn’t have happened if not for you.

Now, as he distractedly dried the dishes you’d washed, listening to you hit all of the high notes in Loving You, it hit him.

‘She should be my wife’ the thought came so quick, and was so loud he almost jumped, confused if it came from him or someone else.

“Hey dishwasher-less!” you nudged him with your hip. “Move those hands.”

“Why can’t we be a thing?” he blurted.

You dropped the silverware you’d been washing, eyes wide and focused on him. “Um..excuse m-…what?”

He knew that wasn’t the most tactful way to introduce his thoughts to you, but it was his way. Fuck…he didn’t even understand them fully himself.

“You heard me querida,” he put the dish down on the counter, turning to you. “When I stayed with you that weekend that my head was all fucked up-“

“Angel.” your tone made it a warning, but he kept going. He was never afraid of a challenge.

“I was inside you so much that weekend I forgot that’s not how I came in this world. I can’t believe I’m saying it out loud, but I felt home cause I was with you-”

“Stop it!” you hit the sink, rattling the contents.

“Fuck that!” he shouted back, startling you both. He stayed silent for a moment before speaking in a calmer tone. “Fuck that. Why can’t we talk about it? Why couldn’t we talk about it then?”

You didn’t say anything, but he saw your chest heaving with adrenaline, and realized you were just as affected by the conversation as he was.

“You just decided it didn’t matter and put it in this space we can’t touch now. It’s all fucked up!”

“Because,” you hissed. “If you remember, it was all over that Adelita chick, and I don’t know what kind of hold she has or had over you, but it was deep.”

He cringed at that, and turned his attention to the light fixture over your head, unable to meet your heated gaze.

“Whatever feelings I have for you Angel, I put them away in a place where I can still be your friend and keep things in perspective.”

“Feelings you have for me?” he latched on to the lack of past tense, hopeful.

You inhaled sharply. “You are having a baby and just got engaged. What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing..I mean a lot, but nothing to do with this. I know-“

“I know,” you pushed away from the sink and reached up to cup his cheeks. “That you’re scared Angel. You’re scared, because you’re gonna take two steps you’ve never taken before at once, and you’re trying to sabotage it.”

He shook his head, taking your hands from his face and holding them tightly in his own. “No..mi dulce, no. I’ve been struggling with this all week, longer if I’m being honest. Tonight sealed it.”

You snorted humorlessly, looking around the kitchen as if something in the room would help you get through to him. “I cook you some big boy meals, and treat your speakers to some musical taste, and you’re ready for vows?”

“Don’t put this all on me. Tell me you don’t feel it. Right here and now, to my face.”

He watched your expression soften, and let you put one hand back on his face, your thumb gently stroking his cheek. “Ok, I can’t do that, but I also can’t just fall into a situation with you either.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “We both know we didn’t just fall into anything. We sat here and let it build and didn’t say shit, and now I have to. This week just made it too real not to.”

He placed his forehead to yours, his own hands cupping your face. “Please…”

He watched you have an internal battle by your changing features before you finally leaned into him. The moment you did, his lips were on yours.

He knew it was more than just a kiss a few seconds in. Everything he’d felt that the previous week was alive and confirmed between you too. He could feel you telling him you had moments like his own.

He palmed your thighs under your sundress before grasping them tightly and lifting you up. He placed you on the counter while you two separated for air. Your chests heaved in unison, and neither of you had to say you wanted the other touching you again before it happened.

He gripped your hair, tilting your head back for access to your neck. The smell of vanilla and cocoa butter surrounded him as he worked his mark all over your skin.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you pressed yourself against his jeans.

He hated he couldn’t feel the heat he knew was emitting from your core through the thick material of his jeans, and slid his other hand up your thigh to your panties.

Your entire body twitched when he ran his fingers over you through the thin cloth. It wasn’t just hot it was soaked.

“You need me that bad mami?” he pulled away from your neck, satisfied with his work, and beginning to work at his jeans.

“And quick.” you breathed into his ear, your tone and the sensation making him shudder.

The ache against his jeans didn’t need to be told twice to find its way into your heat. He slid your panties to side and pressed his thumb against you. You jumped, whimpering your need again, and he pulled your panties way from you.

You’d gotten them around one ankle before he was inside of you, and they were no longer your focus.

You clung to each other so tightly there’d be evidence on both of you.

In the quiet, he wondered if your mind was racing with the same thoughts that his was. What now? How do we get this again?

He pressed kisses to your cheek just as he started to move. You inhaled, your nails sliding down his back. Not quite catching the skin, but enough to set him on fire all the same.

He mapped out a rhythm by your whimpers and how you grasped at him until he crafted the right one.

This was the conversation he’d needed. Every thrust from him, every cry from you, every bit of give and take to heighten the other’s pleasure. The two of you were admitting that everything that was between you was deeper, realer than you’d wanted to admit. He loved you, and you loved him, and you were engraving that on one another.

The flirtation, the way you could be yourselves around each other, the heatless jabs. Good friends was always a ruse.

Your face was buried in his neck, and when he felt dampness he knew came from your tears, he hiked your legs higher, moving deeper.

You cried out so loudly it echoed in the kitchen, drowning out the soft crooning of an eighties songstress.

“I know baby, I feel it too.” his voice was choked by the threat of tears of his own.

He’d never been here before. Not with Adelita, not even close with Nails. He was terrified. Terrified for it to end because he never felt so good. Terrified for it to end because it might never happen again.

“Angel..” your voice sounded so small, but it was strong enough to anchor him back with you. “I’m close, I’m so close.”

“Let go,” he encouraged. “Let me have it querida.”

Your body seized up with your release, his name the only thing he caught in your unintelligible babble.

You clenched up repeatedly in the aftershocks, and that drug him over the edge with you, biting your shoulder.

His vision tunneled, pinpricks of pleasure traveling up and down his spine. Your hands smoothed up and down the area, and he realized it was because he was shuddering.

He gripped the counter for support, pulling back slowly. He was searching for a way to ask if he’d changed your mind, but the act hadn’t made words for his thoughts any easier to find.

It didn’t matter, before he could even speak you stopped him. Your eyes were glazed over with tears that had nothing to do with pleasure this time.

“That was all that I can give you Angel. It’s not right, none of this is, but it’s all I can give you.”

AN:

Am I the only one who wishes she had reference photos for their home/club layouts? Lol, it’s such a weird non-factor thing, but still. From memory, I’m pretty sure Angel only has one bedroom though.

No shade, no hate but this was partially inspired by how over Nails Angel looked when she was putting her back into it….🥴

I played with a few canon-timeline things + knocked the dust off my smut writing ability (I’m going under my humiliation rock now, no calls plz)

[undead-merman]

this is the yan monster luci and satan requester, not a poly relationship, but just like a mutual agreement that they don't want any low life demon going near their s/o

Okay I’ve got Lucifer as a Manticore and Satan as a Sphinx. I love writing these, its a shame I can’t write these faster.

🦁Manticore Lucifer🦁 🦁Sphinx Satan🦁 as Yanderes GN- Reader SFW

Lucifer

Appearance

As a manticore his appearance is fearsome and even his presence is enough to make most others turn tail and run. His mouth is full of too big teeth, some of the long canines poking past his stern frown.

He has small hands that are more paw-like, with razor sharp claws at the end of them. He has paw pads on the tips of each of his fingers, and 3 small pads on his palms. Unlike normal paws, he does have a thumb and surprising dexterity with them.

Along his forehead and temple he has small black horns, they’re perfectly symmetrical which is unusual for a chaotic creature like himself. On top of his head, past his horns are two lion ears that twitch and turn to even the softest noises.

On the back of his neck, down his spine, are small quills tipped with a viscous venom. He is able to flatten them against his body to make them flat for his clothes many of his kind have spots open in their clothing for their spines to poke out, but Lucifer does not have have that in his clothing, He only has a spot open for his large, slightly torn bat like wings.

His tail is long and ends with a red tipped scorpion stinger, quills randomly set along it. It normally hangs low and curls up to avoid knocking things over.

His true form is like that or a normal manticore but with piercing yet silky and shiny black fur and bright glowing blood red eyes.

The Undefeatable Beast

Manticores have a reputation of being mighty beasts unable to be slain by any man, but there are rumors of some being slain. Lucifer, one of the oldest and most powerful has never been bested. Every opponent he’s ever faced has perished and only the surviving onlookers have been able to tell the tale.

His viciousness is renown all over the devildom; while he acts like a gentleman whose temper is always under wraps, he’s quiet vengeful and easy to anger. He doesn’t like to show it, he lets it simmer until he can get his revenge.

His appetite is ravenous and loves to have barely cooked meat served elegantly. He doesn’t like it raw as it feels barbaric and he enjoys the finery of life, but if he needs to he doesn’t mind eating anyone until not even the blood is left.

He does have a vulnerable side however, as since he’s that of lion and Scorpion he needs to sunbathe in order to be in top condition if he doesn’t he’s sluggish, but more brutal. Since there's no sun in the devildom he uses a light to warm himself as he lays on his sides. He looks surprisingly peaceful when warming up.

Spending Time with You

The one thing he can’t defeat, is you. He has such a soft spot for you that he is willing to do anything you ask. Giving him your big doe eyed look makes his monstrous face scrunch up and flush at you. He really can’t say no to you.

His favorite thing in the world is to lay down with you in the warm light, looking up at you as the light engulfs you and all he can see is your smiling face. He loves it when you go to run your finger through his hair or pet him. His wings shiver when you do that and his spines do as well before tightly flatting against his skin allowing you to touch him without getting poked at all,

He is fiercely protective over you. He snaps at anyone who touches you and stands behind you as someone talks to you, his icy glare focused intensely on the person you're talking with.

He loves to take you to enjoy elegant food, sights and sounds. His favorite place to take you is the opera, he loves to listen to the soft gentle melodies as he takes your hand into his.

His Dark Tendencies

Lucifer does not like others interacting with you. Should you defend another person from him too much he’ll start to get insecure. He’ll think you're forgetting about him and falling in love with someone else, and he hates that. He’ll take you even if you struggle and lock you up and keep you to himself until he feels you’ve forgotten about the other. Of course his opponent would be dealt with swiftly, and painfully.

He loves seeing you locked up, it makes the dark monster instincts churr in delight. Completely at his whims, of course he’d never hurt you too much. Should you make him angry or god forbid you try to escape, he’ll punish you by applying constant pain without actually hurting you. Painfully clamping your skin more and more until you go mad and beg him to stop. But if you made him truly angry you’ll be lashed and whipped until he feels better making you count each one out loud.

After Punishments he’s overly sweet, he’ll kiss every bruise and cut, and look at it so tenderly as he whispers about how good you are for him and how much he loves you. But he’ll graze his razor sharp teeth over your sensitive bruises just to remind you to never do it again.

Misc Stuff

When he’s extremely relaxed around you, he will let out a purr though, it’s a deep inhumane noise so deep that it shakes your chest if you’re near. He gets embarrassed if you mention it to him.

He greets those he’s close to by pressing his forehead against theirs. He does this with you, cupping your cheeks and smiling as he does it; with his Brothers and Diavolo it’s a simple tap, but with others he only nods his head. If he doesn’t like someone he simply just stares at them without blinking, glaring into them with fury.

He wants you to smell like him all the time but he gets a bit flustered about doing it. He’ll scent you by rubbing his palms, wrist and cheeks on you while you sleep or aren’t paying attention while cuddling. He feels like a tomcat when he does it but he can’t help it.

Satan

Appearance

His body is more centaur like, with the lower body of a giant winged lion. His fur is a lustrous blonde and gold color and his lower abdomen is large and bulky with thick skin and muscle.

His wings spread wide and are tipped in shimmering gold that shines in any light. The wings which are just under his humanoid hip have a blonde and gold fur, thick and volumes. While most of his mane is centered on his hips, it does have a trail of it going up his spine and shoulder blades.

Two lion ears sit on his scalp of much longer hair then normal, tied loose with a lime green ribbon. His ears constantly moving back and forth betraying his hidden emotions. They flick at nearby noise, or something that interests him, and lay flat when angry or embarrassed.

A Guardian Creature

Sphinx are mostly known for their stories of guarding treasures and tombs. A protective species and loyal to a fault. Satan is just like others of his kind, He focuses his attention to his collection of books and scrolls. Very solemnly does he allow anyone to come near his collection let alone trusts them to borrow from it.

He’ll never admit to it, but he has a lot of the same habits that Lucifer does. He enjoys lazing under a bright warm light, and your gentle strokes on him. He even purrs just like Lucifer too.

He seeks out riddles he cannot solve, he’s said to befriend those who tell him a riddle he can’t solve. He craves to expand his knowledge and find truly intelligent and wise creatures.

Spending Time with You

You had thrown him through a loop when you were given the quest to find a riddle he couldn’t solve and gave him a cheesy dad joke. Never has someone even attempted anything like that. It fascinated him and he quickly became obsessed with you.

He enjoys seeing your point of view on all kinds of topics. He’ll bring you a gift and ask for a discussion on it. He loves hearing your voice talk about the gift he got you and your thoughts on the history behind it. It stimulates such a deep part of his brain that he’s become addicted to it and he nearly brings you one everyday.

He also enjoys stupid fun. Stuff that he doesn’t have to think about too much, he finds it deeply relaxing, though he dares not let anyone but you see it.

If you ask he’ll let you pet his soft feline pads, he’ll get all flustered and squirmy with you rubbing and massaging them. They’re so soft and pink, but while you're doing that he gets to feel your hands in his paws and to him they’re the softest thing he’s ever felt.

His Dark Tendencies

Satan is so deeply infatuated with you, he simply wants to be around you constantly, never letting you out of his grasp. He, of course, loves to bring you small, cute gifts so he can see your face heat up and you look so happy, but a dark sadistic side of him loves to see you scared. The tears dripping down your face and your eyes shoot open with terror behind it. He’ll always be there to comfort you right after but a sick part of him loves to see you like that.

If you ever tried to hide from him or try to run, he would quickly catch you with a dead, unloving, and dark face. He’d carry you back, tie you up and humiliate you, force you to eat out of a cat bowl, and spank you till your rear is black and blue. He always grins from ear to ear when he sees you limping after.

He loves chaining you up and listening to you read to him. He likes playing with the chain as you read and he always complements how it looks on you.

Misc Stuff

Ashamedly he is much like a cat at heart. He finds himself a lot of time chasing bugs and chattering at birds in class. He’s so embarrassed by it that he threatens anyone who brings it up, if not clawing them in half on the spot.

He sits like a cat does, his lower body having its paws tucked in on themselves as he reads. He often falls asleep like this too, his humanoid body frozen while the bottom one is all curled up in a tight ball.

Unlike Lucifer’s more refined palette Satan can eat whatever it is put in front of him, fresh or dressed, it does matter at all, but he doesn’t eat a lot for someone his size.

Dealing with Interferences Together

Dealing with each other was nearly unbearable, but having another one in on the fear competition was unacceptable to both of them. With the two of them they could control the scenarios you were in, keep you at least near them. But having an unknown contestant was dangerous. What if They tried to touch you? Kiss you? So what they’ve done to keep you around them, the carnage they’ve left behind to scare you away from them.

Whenever someone threatened that, they agreed to quickly and quietly deal with this before you even noticed They were gone. Stalking them and finding the perfect time to strike, when together it was deathly quiet, none of them talked and the tension was so thick you’d need a chainsaw to cut through it. They would get into fights fairly often due to them bragging about the time spent with you.

They hate working together, but they do work terribly well together as well. They get everything done quickly and without a trace. Their go-to is to kidnap the offender and bring them to a private room and take any frustration they got while working together and take it out on them. Those who go into that room never come back out. After everything is taken care of they’re right back to fighting with each other for you.

[damienthepious]

this bitch a long one. this week’s other LKT offering! horny yearning via lyrically specific music.

heart beats best (the playlist)

[spotify] [the actual fic]

01. Showyourself - Montaigne // 02. Do I Wanna Know? - CHVRCHES // 03. Stay With Me - Better Love // 04. Crane Your Neck - Lady Lamb // 05. Bad Ideas - Tessa Violet // 06. No Face - Haley Heynderickx // 07. Monster - dodie // 08. Drive Slow - ADDIE // 09. The Thunder Answered Back - Gabby’s World // 10. Mezzanine - Lady Lamb // 11. The Moon Will Sing - The Crane Wives // 12. Company - Daisy the Great // 13. Distractions - Wild Painting // 14. R U Mine? - Ratwyfe // 15. Choices - To Kill A King // 16. 1996 - Wild Child // 17. Honeydew - Small Talks // 18. Lost - Liza Anne // 19. Waiting on a Ghost - Left at London // 20. Moon Song - Phoebe Bridgers // 21. Rearview - Beach Bunny // 22. Vacation Home - Whitehall // 23. You Are the Apple - Lady Lamb // 24. Baby No More (acoustic) - Anjimile // 25. Things We Never Say - Bad Bad Hat // 26. midnight love - girl in red // 27. Please You - Montaigne // 28. His Hands - Blegh // 29. Bottles - Little Image

[lyrics breakdown under the cut because i’m! a disaster. and this is a long ass playlist and i have thoughts about every single song. i think i was kidding myself to think this would be less effort than just Writing. Subject to future change when i find yet more songs that suit this frickin story. there’s lots!!!]

01. Showyourself - Montaigne - Show yourself, shadow, I'm lonely / Show yourself / I don't know how to take care of me alone

02. Do I Wanna Know? - CHVRCHES - So have you got the guts? / Been wondering if your heart's still open / And if so, I wanna know what time it shuts / Simmer down and pucker up / I'm sorry to interrupt, it's just I'm constantly on the cusp / Of trying to kiss you / And I don't know if you feel the same as I do / We could be together if you wanted to

03. Stay With Me - Better Love - Come stay with me another night / Don't overthink / Oh, I know I just met you / But you're clouding all my dreams / Go on and set me free / I wanna see you tomorrow / Are you thinking of me?

04. Crane Your Neck - Lady Lamb - We ripped off all our clothes and this included all our jewelry / And we ran hand in hand back when you brought out the beast in me / The parts that are dormant, I wish to set them free / And in the clarity of this night I make myself believe I can sleep easily alone

05. Bad Ideas - Tessa Violet - I don't know what compels me / To do the very thing that fells me / I wake up, still high on you / But by the night, I'm crashing through, so

06. No Face - Haley Heynderickx - Tell me what's wrong here / Is it the bridge of my nose / Or the backs of my skin / Is it the pull of my hips / That you couldn't let in

07. Monster - dodie - So maybe I will talk to you / The only way I know how to / Mhm, you've said your speech / Mhm, through sharpened teeth / You break the rules and spikes grow from your skin

08. Drive Slow - ADDIE - The rush that I feel when / Our hands are intertwined / We're always together / It kills me that you aren't mine

09. The Thunder Answered Back - Gabby’s World - So here I sit, I've come to rest some weight upon your little chest / You free-for-all, you wrecking ball / Hovering next to your bed, to lay waste to your healthy head / You spider web, you dance of death

10. Mezzanine - Lady Lamb - How I ache, I ache in the pit of me / I awake, awake with this fear in me / How it makes, makes a fool out of me / With its knife how it carves the seeds out of my heart / For to plant in the soil for to feast 

11. The Moon Will Sing - The Crane Wives - We could have been anywhere, anywhere else / Instead I made a bed with apathy / My heart knew the weight / Ten years worth of dust and neglect / We made our peace with weariness / And let it be

12. Company - Daisy the Great - Tell me the truth if the truth means I'm better / Than I am in my head (I am in my head) / I hate what I want because I can't have it / I want your company

13. Distractions - Wild Painting - I'm here lyin next to you / In my mind, you're all that I really want / Claws and the marks on my favorite shirt / Got me feeling the motions, I didn't know / I had for you, you thought you knew / But you didn't / And I didn't at all

14. R U Mine? - Ratwyfe - Looking into your moonlit eyes / You look so enchanting tonight / I get scared when I see your face / ‘Cause I don’t know why you would ever stay

15. Choices - To Kill A King - He's on your doorstep / He's laden with flowers / This garden is freezing, teasing / You're leaving me for hours

16. 1996 - Wild Child - Sometimes it's more than I can take / I try to hold on 'cause I always run away / Just want to see you at the end of every day / Guess if I lose, I'll love you anyways

17. Honeydew - Small Talks - Honeydew / Don’t take it personal cause I love you too / But not the way you want me / I adore you, but not the way you want me to

18. Lost - Liza Anne - I'll be lost if I love him, lost if I won't / And I can't muster up the courage to say it's best that I leave / I can't muster up much of anything when I'm feeling you breathe

19. Waiting on a Ghost - Left at London - I was in love, I couldn't stand you / I could move on, I never planned to / Now I'm in the kitchen just making a meal you won't eat / And cooking exhausts me but I thought I'd try to be sweet

20. Moon Song - Phoebe Bridgers - You couldn't have / Stuck your tongue down the throat of somebody / Who loves you more / So I will wait for the next time you want me / Like a dog with a bird at your door  

21. Rearview - Beach Bunny - Underneath all apathy / You're woven into my tapestry / Did you ever love me at all? / Sometimes I start to lose control

22. Vacation Home - Whitehall - Sometimes, I feel like I'm a house / By the shore, oh I don't wanna be / Some kind of resort for you when you get bored / You know me, I'd rather be / Some place where you can feel happy

23. You Are the Apple - Lady Lamb - You devoured my heart / You devoured my heart like it was strawberry cake at a birthday celebration / But I still need your love / I still need your love / I need your love / I need your love / Yeah, yeah, yeah / I still need your teeth around my organs

24. Baby No More (acoustic) - Anjimile - Am I / Not supposed to hurt you? / Am I / Not supposed to make you cry? / Damn, I / I just don't know good loving / The right way

25. Things We Never Say - Bad Bad Hat - Wish I knew what you were thinking when you kissed me on the floor / But I’m not sorry that I let you, or that we did this whole thing wrong / And I never say I love you, but I meant it all along

26. midnight love - girl in red - I hope that the right time one day arrives / So I'll be willing to let this die / Able to look you right in the eyes / Say I'm not your consolation prize

27. Please You - Montaigne - I'm going to sit here in the dark / And hope one day I make my mark on you, it's all I long to do / I belong to me and to my heart / I hope one day that I can stop, can stop, can stop / Trying to please you

28. His Hands - Blegh - You're too real for me / You should go to something better / I'll give you to someone better / I have friends that'll be on earth for longer / I have friends that won't feel like monsters

29. Bottles - Little Image - I loved you, I loved you / Woah-oh / Did you love me? Did you ever love me? // Or anything anymore? / You bottle your love so tightly

[kazuyumi1412]

[Previous Course]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Little Chef

[Course 2]

As she combined the butter-flour mixture in the pan, Amber couldn’t help but think of Noah again. She never got an answer about what he was, and there were still so many questions that she had for him even before she accidentally scared him again.

‘Well, it’s not like I didn’t deserve it up to some point,’ she thought as she kept an eye on the roux forming in the pan. ‘I’m not going to be surprised if I don’t see him ever again after that little incident.’

She tried to keep her hopes up as best as she could as she made her cream stew. She’d already gotten everything else cooking in a pot on one of the back burners, so all she had left to do was make the béchamel sauce to combine it with. Having three or so pots on the stove seemed a bit hectic at first glance, but it wasn’t an unusual occurrence to her due to working in a restaurant. Amber slowly poured the heated milk into the roux once it was ready, making sure that it was fully combined before she added any more. She wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

“And…there,” she said to herself as she finished up. “Just need to add it to the stew.”

Amber grabbed a ladle from nearby, scooping some of the stew broth into the béchamel sauce before incorporating the sauce mixture back into the stew. She let it simmer a little bit longer before turning off the heat and letting it cool down a bit. Grabbing two small containers, she set them side-by-side and portioned out the stew, sealing the containers and putting them in her lunch bag afterwards.

‘I hope he likes it,” she thought.

She paused for a bit as she looked at her lunch bag. Amber fiddled with the zipper, thinking back…

“Be grateful that you get to eat on their dime. Otherwise, you wouldn’t get to eat at all!”

“A cheese sandwich again? You really can’t afford to get anything else, can you?”

She opened up her lunch bag again, staring at the two containers of cream stew.

“Eat your food, honey. People worked hard to get you this meal, and I’m sure that some people dream about being in your situation.”

Was it really alright for her to be enjoying a meal like that? If there were others that dreamed about being in her situation, then what made her so special to be there in the first place? Why her?

No, not the best time to contemplate why she’s there at that point in time. She needed to head to work.

Zipping up her lunch bag again, Amber got ready for work and headed out the door, lunch bag in hand.

Work was rather uneventful that day — well, as uneventful as working in a bustling restaurant kitchen could get — and Amber continued to do the finishing touches on her cleaning. She glanced over at the pantry’s lock, curious about how it’d been acting up prior to then. Walking up to it, she closely examined the lock.

Huh. Something’s inside of it.

She tried to shake whatever was inside out of the lock, but before she could do much of anything, she heard a noise coming from behind her.

“Noah?” Amber asked. “Is that you?”

“So you’re the one that made him fear for his life,” an unfamiliar voice chastised her. “Do you know how terrified we all were?”

“We all?” — she let go of the lock and looked around for the source of the voice — “So there are more of you? Whatever you are.”

“Don’t avoid the subject! Even if what Noah did was reckless as all get out, that’s no excuse for terrorizing him!”

“Look, I didn’t mean to scare him like that. Hell, we were both pretty terrified at the time. I thought I’d have to deal with another mouse infestation! I didn’t expect to see a little person-”

“Borrower,” They cut Amber off so quickly that she could barely process what they said.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“We’re not ‘little people’, even if we are small. We’re Borrowers.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

They didn’t reply for a bit. “Anyway, what do you want with Noah? You’ve already given him enough trouble.”

Amber rolled her eyes, quickly developing a snarky tone in her voice. “Well, sorry for wanting to make up for scaring the hell out of him. I thought that he’d appreciate something that wasn’t from the scrap pile.”

“We’re fine, thank you very much. We don’t need help from-” — they trailed off, and Amber could hear sounds coming from the direction of the dishwashing area — “Hey, get back here!”

Amber looked over towards the dish racks, seeing something climbing down from it. A spider? No, too big to be a spider, and if it was one, she’d have already gotten the broom and smacked it. She got a little closer, only to see Noah rappelling down from the rack. Unfortunately, she kind of spooked him in the process, as he lost his grip when he saw how close she was to him. Thankfully, Amber was able to catch him before he cracked his skull open like an egg.

“That was close,” she said, gently setting Noah down. “If I wasn’t fast enough… Well, let’s try not to think about that for now.” — she glanced up to where the hook attached to the rope was, which turned out to just be thread and a paper clip — “How long have you and that other guy been up there?”

“Just a few minutes,” Noah told her. “I wanted to see if anyone else was here.” — his voice reduced to a quiet mutter — “You said you wanted to see me again.”

She smiled a bit when she heard that. “I’m glad you kept your promise.” — she grabbed her lunch bag, which she had set aside earlier, and brought out the second container of cream stew — “I didn’t know if you’d like it or not, but I thought that some homemade stew would be better than just cheese and a cracker.”

His eyes seemed to sparkle when he saw the container, but quickly became nervous. “I-Is it alright? For me to have some?”

“Of course—!” — Amber quickly stopped herself, knowing that she was going to spook Noah if she kept being that loud — “I mean, of course you can. The same goes for your friend. I just need to warm it up first.”

“Like I was going to say, we don’t need help from human beans like you,” the other Borrower rudely told her. “We don’t need your charity.”

Amber tried so hard to contain her laughter, but it escaped in short, sporadic chuckles as she covered her mouth with one hand. Noah seemed puzzled, while Amber couldn’t tell what the other Borrower’s expression was like.

“It’s human beings, not human beans,” She corrected them through her giggle fit.

“Whatever!” they snapped back at her. “You’re still a human bean to me! And my mind’s not going to be changed about the charity either!”

“But she made it just for us, Cay,” Noah said, “and I know that you’re tired of eating scraps too.”

“Cay?” Amber asked, puzzled.

There wasn’t a reply from the other Borrower until they heard a rough sigh accompanied by quiet footsteps. They quickly slid down the rope that Noah had used earlier, slowing down just enough at the end to make as little noise as possible on the metal counter. They had a grey cloak that was similar to Noah’s, but it was a bit shorter on their body and had a hood sewn on it. The person hiding under the cloak, however, was a whole different story. They towered over Noah, though they were still only big enough to fit in Amber’s palm, and had piercing hazel eyes accompanying well-kept red hair. Even despite their size difference, Amber couldn’t help but feel unnerved when they glared at her.

“You better hope that I’m not going to regret revealing myself like this,” They told her.

“Anyway…um…this is my brother,” Noah introduced him. “His name’s Cain, but we all call him Cay.” — he turned to his brother — “And this is Amber. I forgot what the full thing was, but that’s what she asked me to call her.”

“It’s Ambrosia,” Amber noted. “So, is it just you two? Sibling-wise. I’m just curious.”

He looked over to his brother. “Well, there’s Able too, but he’s-”

“Sprained ankle,” Cain cut him off.

Amber winced. “Yikes. I hope he gets better.”

Cain let out a huff as he looked off to the side. In any case, Amber quickly went to reheat the stew that she had brought, getting the smallest spoons that she could for the two Borrowers, which happened to be the quarter teaspoons. She set the spoons next to them and presented the stew, with it still steaming a bit from reheating it.

“Careful,” she warned them beforehand, “it’s pretty hot.”

Both Cain and Noah were hesitant at first, but they eventually took a slight bit of the stew and tasted it. While Noah’s delighted reaction was plastered all over his face, Cain looked extremely neutral.

“So…?” Amber slowly asked them. “You like it?”

“It’s amazing!” Noah beamed as he quickly took another spoonful and ate it. “I’ve never tasted anything like this before! The chunks are a little big, though.”

“I’ll try to break it up a bit more next time, but even I’ve got limits for how small I can cut things.” — she looked over at Cain, who still looked neutral — “Not even a reaction? Huh.”

Cain quickly looked her in the eyes. “If you’re trying to make me jealous of your cooking, then you’ve definitely succeeded,” he remarked.

Noah chuckled at his brother’s remark, and the two of them kept eating. Granted, there was enough stew there to feed the two of them for a few days straight, but that was probably because Amber didn’t have any smaller Tupperware to use. Either way, she was glad that they were eating something that she knew wasn’t from the scrap heap that normal people called the trash.

“You know,” she noted, “I could always teach you how to cook. Probably not gigantic meals like this,” — she paused for a second — “well, gigantic compared to you…but still something to eat.”

“Hold on, let me get this straight,” Cain said, seeming rather suspicious of her. “You, a human bean or whatever you’re called, want to teach Borrowers like us how to cook?” — Amber nodded her head, though this seemed to make him more suspicious — “You know that we’re not supposed to interact with each other, right?”

“Well, we’re doing it right now, you rule breaker. Doesn’t make much of a difference.” — Cain stopped in his tracks, knowing that she had a point — “Anyway, I’ve got to get going, and you two should too. You can pop by tomorrow if you want.”

“I’d rather not, with Noah already being in trouble and all.” — he glanced at his brother — “It’d be best if we lay low.”

Amber knew that Cain had a point, so she let them finish up before they ran off into hiding again. Taking the teaspoons and Tupperware, she made sure to clean them before returning them to their proper places, taking the Tupperware back with her as she thought of some new recipes.

[cyclogenesis]

director's commentary for 'got a feeling that i'm going under' - especially the relationship bucky has with sam's family, and the scene with sam getting hurt.

Oh man, Got a feeling that I'm going under, the fic into which I put every single emotion I ever had. The idea came from the most fantastically random source - many years ago while chatficcing porn with a friend we were writing a 5SOS Harry Potter AU (yes, I deeply miss having someone to chatfic out my worst id garbage with) and I wrote a bit where I used the phrase "like being split open in reverse" about magical wound-healing. The image always stuck with me, and one evening I was thinking about Bucky Barnes, and what his whole fucking deal is, and the idea for the first scene popped into my head. The accelerated healing factor of super soldiers is so interesting to me, and we've seen so little about it - but like with any injury, it helps a hell of a lot if you set the bone/close the wound/etc. first.

I'm always interested in how Bucky went from sniper twink to the guy pitching himself off a motorcycle headfirst at another super soldier; that dude has gotten reckless as hell with his body! So he for sure gets hurt a lot, and I doubt that he was tended to with much care when he was the Winter Soldier, so I imagine he's gotten used to seeing to his own injuries while in the field, probably to the point of feeling awkward about someone else checking on him now. Thus: Local Man, 106, Really Trying to Go to Bed Still Bleeding, Realizes Horrified Partner.

I started writing it sometime after episode 3 or 4 (taking it on faith that the show was gonna have a HEA), initially because the other thing I was working on was taking too long to get to the porn, so I thought I'd write a one scene 4k or so little thing where Sam tends to Bucky's wounds, and they're tucked close in a motel bathroom and, you know, then they fuck, good for them. But then I was really enjoying the tension of that scene, and then I thought about artistically carved magical wounds, and things escalated.

Honestly, my usual approach to any fic is "write enough story to earn the sex scene", so that's sort of what I was doing, but in the way where I kept complaining to my friends that I was trying to get to the porn, but I just kept writing all these feelings. (I think at this point, with this pairing at least, I have to admit that I also always want to write enough story to make it clear that even if they don't say so in the fic, they are absolutely in love with each other.)

I was really struggling with how to finish out the first kiss scene, because I really wanted to get to the porn, but it was just kind of a logistical pickle. It took awhile to occur to me that I didn't have to write about the first time they have sex, which was mind-blowing as that's almost always what I write. Once I realized that, I also realized that (at this point, after the high of the show's ending) I desperately wanted to write a little established relationship for them.

So a kitchen injury to continue the theme was kind of a gimme, and having Bucky cooking dinner at Sam and Sarah's felt like it went right along with how clearly Bucky is part of their family now per ep 6, and would thus be comfortable enough there after awhile to cook in their kitchen (though he still wants to do a good job!). Plus the kids clearly adore him, and I think AJ's still at the age where he'd openly be more dazzled by Bucky and thus eager to help him do whatever. Indulge me in breaking down the following bit, because it's one of my favorite parts:

“I’m fine,” Bucky says again, looking at the stove as if it might betray him and his carefully constructed soup if he gets out of its sightline. “It just needs to simmer for five more minutes.” (Still trying to refuse help, but he'll get there, bless him! Also though he's put a lot of effort into becoming a good cook, he still doesn't entirely trust recipes and gets a little nervous when four other people are depending on him to be fed.)

Sarah, having already assessed the scene and identified what needs to be done, retrieves a wooden spoon from the drawer and pokes Bucky with it. “I got it, go.” (I love the mental image of the wooden spoon poke. Like first of all yes, jab the man, but also it shows quickly that in Sarah's mind at this point Bucky is basically her brother-in-law. 😭!!)

“The salad is looking good,” AJ reports to everyone. (Children are small insane people that still require attention and validation even when someone else is literally bleeding! Love that for them, sincerely.)

“It’s gonna be a great salad, buddy!” Bucky says to him over his shoulder as Sam directs him to the first floor bathroom. (But like, Bucky is so good with kids. He's happy to validate AJ and appreciates his help! He wants to help AJ grow up to be a good man and men these days have to know how to cook! 🥺)

Bucky is out here and he's ready to be a Barnes-Wilson (or a Wilson-Barnes. Or a Wilson. He's flexible)!!

And now the last scene, man, the last scene. Like the rest of this fic, it was absolutely not planned ahead of time in any reasonable way. Let me be super honest here: I ran across a Tumblr post that was basically like "fics where Sam takes care of Bucky are stupid garbage and so are the people who write them" (loosely paraphrased) and I was like OH FUCK this fic is thematically wrong and I Am The Problem, and after brooding about that for probably longer than I should have I realized, relatedly and fortunately, that the only way it made sense to end this fic was to flip the theme on its head and have Sam get injured and Bucky have to look after him. And how Bucky would freak out and become immediately invested in doing everything he can to make sure he can take care of Sam in every way forever. From there I sat down and wrote out the last scene pretty quickly!

I always get the most nervous about endings, so I'm really glad people enjoyed this one. I was pretty in my feelings after posting this fic, considering that I hadn't written a story since 2018, it was my first one for this pairing, it's a real stylistic switch from my past uh few decades of work, I hadn't written for a media fandom with a ton of canon in one thousand years, the central theme was magical wound-healing (?!), etc. The response to it was an extremely pleasant surprise and something I'm still grappling with as I've continued to write in this fandom. I hope someday I can write something else that connects with people the way this one did!

[gophergal]

HEY GOTTA 'NOTHER CHAPTER FOR YA. Thank you to @bucketofcowboys for betaing for me! Without his help, I would be pulling weird shakespeare lines outta my ass. He makes my shit sound smooth lol

I'm Not Lonely - Chapter Three

Word count:4 000+| Rating: M |  Michael Myers x OC | M/F

WARNING: Gore, Animal Death

Jean must have fallen asleep at some point while reading to Michael, the book slipping from her hands into her lap. She jolted awake at the sudden weight on her legs, her heart pounding momentarily until her eyes fell on Michael's form, watching as his head tilted inquiringly to the side. He appeared as though he still sat where he had been the night before, still watching her as she slept.

It was strange, obviously, but she couldn't help the warm feeling that spread through her from the human companionship. She was tempted to physically shake the feeling away from her limbs and mind, but restraining herself. The knowledge of why she felt so comforted by him, a man she knew by first name alone and nothing else, filled her with a mixture of shame and annoyance, though she pushed that all to the back of her mind to simmer.

With a yawn, Jean stretched, feeling her back click into place after her poor sleeping position. She stood on stiff legs, feeling the sleep flee from her system as the blood circulated throughout her body. In the kitchen, after a quick bite of breakfast, Jean looked at Michael from the other side of the table, sipping on her coffee as she considered what she had planned for the day.

She'd need to get groceries- the fridge was becoming a bit empty now that she was cooking for two so frequently. That brought another thought to mind, that she really didn't know what Michael liked to eat. Part of her wanted to say, “Fuck it, I'm the one cooking and paying the bills, so what he likes doesn't really matter,” but at the same time she didn't feel like being so harsh.

After cleaning the dishes she and Michael had left in the sink, getting dressed in errand appropriate apparel, and yelling to Michael so he'd know she left, she got in her car and drove toward Haddonfield. The grocery store was relatively quiet today. There were times that it could be a true mad house; hoards of middle aged women being impatient with the young employees of the store while their husbands stood around bored, watching their wild hellions wreck havoc.

Jean shuddered at the image, glad to be in at a slow time as the young cashier greeted her with a smile. The normalcy of this shopping trip was sobering as she placed items into the cart, her mind working slowly to remind her of what was wrong with her current life situation. Unfortunately for that rational part of her mind, she simply continued to mark things off her grocery list. She reached for a pack of Dr Pepper cans, only to bump into an arm. She drew back quickly, pulled out of her muffled thoughts, and looked at the person she bumped into.

“Oh! I'm very sorry, m'am,” the tall woman- no, she was rather young, now that Jean got a look at her, she was simply taller than Jean, who was admittedly quite short. Her fluffy blonde locks swallowed her head as a single mass, the part framing her sharp features. She must be a high school student, Jean thought.

“It's fine, please go ahead. And 'Jean' is fine. I'm not married,” she chuckled, picking a bit at her shirt sleeve.

“Nice to mean you, Jean. I'm Laurie. I... don't think I've seen you around before. Are you new in town, by chance?” The girl asked.

“No, not really. I've lived in the area for my whole life, but I live a bit out of town. Laurie, you seem familiar though.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, I can't place where I've seen you though- Wait, were you one of the people attacked on Halloween night?” Jean asked with a gasp, then immediately wished she hadn't. Laurie looked away quickly, and seemed to struggle for words momentarily and appearing on the verge of tears. “I- I'm really sorry, Laurie. That must have been horrific. Did they ever.... catch the guy?”

“No. He's still on the loose. Sheriff Brackett said he'd do everything he could, but Annie- his daughter- my friend, she-” Laurie cut herself off, not needing to say more for Jean to connect the dots, her shoulder's trembling slightly with the effort to remain composed in this public environment.

“You're a very strong young woman, Laurie. Especially to still be out and about so soon after all of that. I'm sure he'll be caught, too. That type of bastard isn't usually free for long.”

“Thank you. It's been very hard, on everyone.”

“I can imagine.

“Y'know, it may be a weird thing to offer, but if you ever need some help, or someone to talk to, here's my number. I can't say I can truly understand your specific situation, but I've had my fair share of loss, too,” she said, producing a small piece of paper and a pen, scribbling down her home phone number, then handed it to Laurie.

Laurie accepted the paper, dabbing at her eyes slightly with her sweater sleeve, “Thank you, Jean. I might have to take you up on that some time.”

“Don't hesitate, I'd be happy to lend an ear,” Jean replied with a small, warm smile.

The women purchased their groceries and parted way. Talking to Laurie had caused the trip to take longer than intended and now the sun was creeping lower, the brightness slightly too intense to be comfortable. Jean got into her car, the paper bags of food on the passenger side, and she left. The intense, golden light highlighted the trees which were now barren of their leaves. That and the chilly air harbingers of the coming winter. Jean worried her mind with the thought that she would have to fix some of the roofing of her home before the wet snow came down and buried the world.

There would be time to do that, for now she had other things to think about, such as her new housemate. Despite, his impromptu move in almost two weeks prior, she still knew nothing about him aside from his name. She hadn't even seen his face before, she realized, causing a slight hum of anxiety to spread through her body. Something in her kept screaming at her to do something about it, but as she drove toward her home, that voice grew quiet.

There were no lights on when she arrived, and no sign of Michael as she put away the groceries. Aside from a couple empty food wrappers in the sink, which greatly irritated her, it was the same as before he first visited her. Perhaps he'd left for the night. She didn't know where he went when wasn't at her home, but frankly she wasn't his keeper and had no responsibility to keep track of him. He was a grown man, after all. She placed the case of soda on the counter and, with a yawn, piloted her weary body toward the stairs.

She instinctively skipped the creaky step, nearly losing her balance to fatigue. At the top of the stairs, she noticed that her bedroom door was slightly ajar, a sliver of moonlight beaming through the crack, a strange occurrence as her habit was to close the door at all times. She drew closer, cautious and uneasy now, and gently pushed open the door, supporting it with her body and praying that the squeaky hinge would remain silent.

The door now open, she could see a lump under the covers on her bed, poking out from the top a curly, dark mass. She let out a small gasp of breath when she noticed the white, fleshy sheet on her nightstand. Michael's mask. This was Michael who'd stolen her bed. Even at rest, there was a tension to him, eyebrows contorted and face twisted into a slight grimace. Yet, she noticed her hand drawing closer to his hair as if it were magnetic. She pulled her traitorous appendage back, foiling it's mission to tenderly push back a brown lock from his forehead.

A slight glint of reflected light caught her attention, her eye sweeping over the sleeping form to see the metal blade of a kitchen knife in his hand. He had a white-knuckle grip on it that did not waver with the haze of sleep. It chilled her. She began backing away, unwilling to take back her bed that night and unsure if she would even be able to sleep. Still, as she stepped gingerly out of the room, the couch called to her downstairs.

The next few days were uneventful. She worked, she came home, sometimes she had to take the couch. Michael didn't seem to leave at all, yet he seemed out of place in the house, having nothing change around him. Tonight would be her last night of work for the week and she was excited to have some time to rest on her day off. She sat across from Michael at the kitchen table, taking occasional glances at his masked face, imagining the man beneath. He sat like a wax figure, unmoving and unphased.

“I have to work again tonight, I can't really tell you what to do, but I'd appreciate you locking the door if you go somewhere,” she told him. While she awaited his lack of response she wondered what he even did while she was away, though she ultimately decided that ignorance was preferable to knowing something she'd regret. Besides, she had things to do before she left for work that evening. The sun was low in the sky as she put on her dusty pink uniform dress and black flats.

Michael watched her leave the house from his spot in the kitchen, waiting for the security of an empty house. Once the coast was clear he ripped the mask from his face, the latex of it clinging to his greasy brown locks in his haste to eat. He grimaced at the tugging sensation, placing his second face on the table next to him. As food was shoveled into his mouth messily like a child, he decided on what he'd do that day. It seemed a good day to snoop through his host's home because, surprisingly, he hadn't already. If he thought about how different this was from any other time he'd stalked prey for too long, it would only confuse him. At the same time, he was reminded constantly by the Shape that it would all end soon, soon enough the pleasure of killing the woman would outweigh the benefit of keeping her alive.

He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, putting the plate into the sink rather carelessly with a clink. The house was rather uncluttered, with few items in the cupboards and cabinets. Nothing out of the ordinary, as far as he could tell. Still, bland as it was, it was far more welcoming than the white walls and antiseptic smells of Smith's Grove. Of that place, those were all he could remember clearly, everything else was shrouded in a drugged haze, a curtain of accusation and rough hands holding him down when the doctor ordered. A few small moments of kindness from nurses and orderlies peeked through the curtains here and there, but even those paled in comparison to how Jean was. The Shape scoffed at the idea, reminding him that if she knew the evil that everyone else had, she too would end up as another barrier between him and freedom, and such barriers were meant to be torn down.

The stairs creaked as he climbed, and the photos on the wall watched him closely. Upon closer look he saw a woman, looking much like slightly older Jean, alongside a little girl and an old man. He pulled it off the wall for a closer look. Smiling faces, a happy family, though shaped differently than his own had been. The girl looked to be the same age he'd been on that night so many years ago. He tossed the frame onto the carpeted floor after the top step, not caring for what that last thought brought to mind.

On the upper floor, more pictures were on the walls and now he noticed how few actually showed the older woman. They formed a sort of jumbled timeline, the little girl growing taller until he recognized her as Jean at various ages. A few had only her, no sign of the old man or the woman, and he took one from the wall. She was dressed nicely, her back to the glowing sunrise, making her messy blonde hair appear as a fiery golden halo. He decided that he liked it and held onto it as he kept wandering though his host's home.

The Shape became restless at some point, it's voice growing more frantic and incomprehensible with the passing minutes. Michael was tired though, the thrill of the hunt would be dampened by his lack of sleep. The Shape grew louder, demanding blood, gracing his mind with sudden images of what he could do to satisfy it. He ground his teeth, fist clenching and un-clenching as he tried to shake the thoughts from his mind. He needed rest. The Shape could wait, surely. There would be more prey, more chances. The hardest night was over, and he was unlikely to be caught while he stayed with Jean. Frustrated, he relented, giving in to the grating presence of the Shape. He stomped downstairs, muscles growing tense with each heavy breath.

The diner was relatively quiet that night, only two men were at a booth in the front. A not-quite-elderly duo of middle-aged men with greying dark hair, one taller and mustached, the other weaselly in appearance. Jean hurried to the booth to take their order, “Hey, what can I get you two gentlemen tonight?”

“I'll take a tenderloin sandwich, slice o' apple pie, a black coffee,” said the mustached man.

“Cheesecake, black coffee,” the weaselly man said. With that, Jean nodded and smiled, leaving to take the order to Gus, tuning in to their conversation as she walked away.

“Eh, you know about that one bastard that's been on the loose since Halloween?” Asked the weaselly man.

“Yeah, of course I do. I watch the news. What about it?”

“I've heard that he's twenty bodies in now.”

“The police say that?”

“No, they wouldn't and you know it. I've heard it from a few buddies.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Haddonfield's never had so many suspicious deaths, bud. It's gotta be a bit more than a coinkydink that they'd ramp up after this guy starts killin'.” Jean brought the men their orders and they quieted down on the morbid talk for a bit. The weaselly man rubbed hands together excitedly as Jean set down his cheesecake. The tall man shook his head light heartedly.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” the tall man said. Jean smiled, holding back the urge to roll her eyes at the unwanted pet name. She left to wipe down the other booth tables in the room.

“Anyway, I heard that the cops are broadening their search to the surrounding area,” said the weasel, “been some sightings of a masked man wearing a blue jumpsuit around some houses on the outskirts of town.” Jean found that the description was unsettlingly familiar.

“C'mon, that could just be some kid in a dime store mask and his dad's coveralls.”

“After halloween?”

“Yeah, y'know how kids are. Not sayin' its good, those kids might get themselves killed.”

“Isn't that what happened to that one highschool football player? Tramer, I think his name was.”

“Yeah, just like that. Police thought he was Michael Myers and he got run over. Well, on accident , of course,” The tall man said, putting air quotes around “accident” and then took a bite of his tenderloin sandwich.

“And what a damn shame it is. Poor kid had so much potential. Might as well add him to the body count.”

Jean stopped wiping the table she was standing at. She felt the blood rush from her face, her heart dropped into her stomach, and bile rose in her throat. It all was too much. Her head spun, making the connections, remaking the connections, denying the truth. Her knees felt weak.

“Woah, miss, you good? If all this murder talk is getting to you, we can stop. You look like you're about to pass out,” the mustached man asked her, voice laced with concern.

“I-” she started, swallowing hard, “I'm okay, I think my blood sugar's just low. I'll be back,” she finished, leaving quickly to go back to the kitchen where Jo and Gus chatted. Jean pushed past, throwing open the back door and pressing her back to the brick wall of the diner outside. She breathed hard, shaking hands gripping her skirt as her legs threatened to give beneath her.

Jo burst out a moment later, worried. She put her hands on Jean's shoulders, words coming out of her mouth, but not reaching Jean's ears. She shook Jo's hands off, reclaiming her composure. “I'm fine, Jo, I guess all that talk about the killer on the loose got to me,” she said. It wasn't quite a lie.

“Are you sure you'll be alright? You live alone and now I'm worried about you,” Jo asked.

“It's fine. I'm fine. I promise.”

“Okay, I'll drop it, but if you ever need anything, you know where I am.”

“I do,” Jean nodded. She wouldn't drag Jo into this. This was her own problem, and Jo might very well get hurt. She considered asking Gus to help her, he was a large guy, someone she could trust, and she was sure he would do anything to help if she asked. Then she reconsidered. She'd never be able to forgive herself if she got him hurt. No, she'd have to take care of this herself, somehow.

There was a creeping feeling on her back as the eerie twilight faded into blackness as she drove. There were no stars in the sky, yet the full moon cast it's silvery glow on the earth below, bathing the landscape in a strange dream-like contrast. It was slightly hypnotic, feeding her unease. Once she arrived at her home, she turned the knob on the front door, now aware of the lights left on in the house. She pushed open the door, breaching the barrier between her feeling of environmental disorientation and her nauseating awareness of the room before her.

A sharp scent of salt and copper was in the air, horrifically mixing with the familiar smells of the house, corrupting them in the dim light from upstairs. Before she could bring herself to flip the light switch, she surveyed the dark room, eyes falling on a dark, crumpled form at the bottom of the staircase. Pooling below it, a reflective, dark liquid that appeared black in the shadow of the heap.

She flipped the switch, eyes screwed shut. She finally found the courage to open her eyes, and regretted it. Tears pricked her eyes, a mixture of shock and disgust, as she looked at the crumpled canine body at the bottom of the stairs. The dog, once a charming golden brown, was now stained with the rust colored blood that had kept it alive. Gruesomely, its abdomen was torn open, broken ribs visible alongside the snaking internal organs.

A sound ripped itself from Jean's lips and she looked around the room. The first aid kit was strewn about on the coffee table, the couch soaked in red. Dried blood was tracked everywhere, shoe prints from the back door to the living room, dried droplets leading up the stairs, a smeared hand print on the wall. At the top of the stairs, her bedroom door was ajar. A horrible, sickening curiosity gripped her, guiding her around the discarded carcass and up the stairs.

Her heart pounded as she froze in front of the door, mind blank, her survival instincts screaming at her to run. Run far away. You are prey. You will die and then you will feed this horrible predator. She swallowed down these instincts somehow, and pushed open the door. Blood had been dripped from the threshold to her bed. Then she saw him. On her bed. Her clean, comfortable bed with the soft, white sheets. His filthy, blood-stained jumpsuit was touching her once clean, comfortable sheets. Her knees no longer quivered below her. Her prey-like instincts cowered away as something snapped within. She was fucking pissed.

“Michael, what the fuck are you doing in my goddamn bed?! My home?! My FUCKING SHEETS, you bastard!” She shook, no longer in fear- no, that ship had passed along with her pure white sheets- her hands shook with the desire to express her feelings violently.

Michael jumped up almost comically as though he'd been stabbed with a straight pin. He nearly fell, then fumbled for the white latex he treated as his face, then pulled it on. The knife he slept with had clattered to the floor in his struggle, and had been kicked under the bed. He whipped himself around to look at Jean, then stalked to her. Jean held her ground. He was a mere two steps from her, the difference in height and mass between them highlighted by the closeness.

“You've got three goddamn choices. First, you could kill me. Go ahead, I fucking dare you. Second, you could leave. Go somewhere, leave me the fuck alone. Or, you could stay here, follow my rules, have a steady supply of food and somewhere to sleep. Make your choice, Michael,” she growled, glaring into shadowed eyeholes of his mask.She bared her teeth, seething as he put a massive hand, covered in dried dog blood, around her neck. He did not squeeze, simply held it there firmly as he waited for the Shape's instruction.

The instruction to snap her neck did not come. The Shape remained silent. He had expected fear. That was common- expected even- in his prey. They would run, or try to fight back. Some tried to submit, begging him not to snuff out their lives. Anger though, that was reserved for the exceptionally stupid. Yet something was beginning to make itself clear, Jean was not stupid, exceptionally or otherwise. Rage continued to flare in her slate grey eyes as Michael released her neck, an alluring red stain coiled around it. He marveled at the mark as she turned away, stomping down the stairs away from him.

Watch that one, the Shape demanded. Michael agreed to the Shape's demand. He would definitely watch her. She had his attention now.

[higuchimon]

[fanfic] The Wild Raptor

Geise checked his traps and nodded in pleasure at the sight of the Wild Raptor struggling, legs bound together by a thick, tough rope, snapping and snarling.  he expertly slid the muzzle over the creature's head, making sure not to get his hands too close to the sharp claws or teeth.  This one looked fantastic, extremely robust and strong, and certainly worth quite a lot of coin.

Not everyone could make their way in this world the way that he could.  Geise didn't remember the world that had been before.  He'd heard stories about it, of course.  Everyone had.  But the world that he knew was one where he could and did make his way by capturing and selling spirits and animals to those who would pay a high price for them. 

He reached out and patted the Wild Raptor on the head.  "Don't worry.  You're going to be sold to someone who'll take very good care of you."

The growl the Wild Raptor delivered wasn't very loud, thanks to the muzzle, but Geise didn't care.  He wrapped a net around his prize and dragged him back to his base.  He'd heard that Brron was in the market for a pet for his sons and Geise looked forward to the amount of reward that he'd get for this. 

So the sooner he got there, the better.

Kenzan wasn't even remotely close to happy.  He tried to chew the muzzle off but he couldn't get a good grip on it, and with the rest of him bound with rope and restrained by powerful netting, there wasn't much else that he could do. 

This wasn't how his day was supposed to go.  He wanted to enjoy running through the woods, doing a little hunting for lunch, and maybe finding a cool rock he could take back home.  But he'd found himself tied up like this and that put a very bad end to all of those plans. 

He understood everything that the hunter said, of course.  That didn't mean that he liked or wanted to hear it, but he understood it, and he wasn't happy about it.  He tried to claw at any part of the restrains he could, but he couldn't get his jaws on anything.  All he could do was hang there, being extremely annoyed.

All right,  he told himself.  Can't get away right now.  But once I'm wherever this guy wants to take me, I can explain to whoever it is and go home!  Being a shape-changer had a lot of side effects.  He didn't just need to eat nearly raw meat on a regular basis - he could and did speak to humans.  He'd never spent much time around them, not since he’d left his home village before the age of ten, but he knew how to speak their language.  At least one of them.  So he'd talk to whoever this was and hope that they spoke his language and would let him go.

Only the longer the trip went on, the more he stated to wonder if that would happen.  He heard a few words, mostly to the effect of 'Brron' and that didn't give him a good feeling at all.  Everyone knew that name.  Very few people liked it.

As far as Kenzan could tell, he'd been Geise's prisoner for about two weeks before they finally arrived at Brron's castle.  He'd lost weight and muscle tone and there were plenty of bruises from the top of his head to the tip of his tail.  In all that time he'd never been allowed to change back human - Kenzan wasn't even sure if Geise knew he could do that.  He didn't want to tell him either.  Who knew what the hunter would do if he knew he had a shapeshifter captive?

By now he'd been clapped inside of a portable cell.  The muzzle still remained wrapped around his jaws, though it was removed a few times a day so he could be fed.  It wasn't very good food; more like pet food than anything else.  But Kenzan ate it.  He didn't have a lot of options. The restraints kept him from getting away. 

Truth to tell, he wasn't feeling nearly as feisty as he had the day that he'd been captured.  All of the energy he'd not been able to burn off still festered inside of him, and he'd never wanted some raw meat as much as he did right now.  If Brron's kids weren't careful, they'd end up on his menu.  He hadn't ever eaten people before, but the hungrier he got, the more enticing it seemed.  The longer he stayed in his raptor form, the worse it got too.

He closed his eyes and rested as they drew closer to the castle.  He could smell a lot of strange scents around.  Humans and monsters of all kinds, none of which he recognized, but he knew them for what they were regardless.  There were other scents as well - including well-cooked meat.  His stomach grumbled and he twitched harder, claws flexing.

Kenzan couldn't name everything that he smelled here.  As they arrived in the castle himself, he heard noises, voices talking to one another and some of them to the hunter, Geise.

"I've brogue something I think Brron's sons are going to enjoy. For the right price, of course."

That didn't surprise Kenzan in the slightest.  Geise had told him that more than once over the last couple of weeks.  But now he heard another voice answering.

"A Wild Raptor.  Interesting."  A gentle hand rested against his side and Kenzan opened his eyes to stare at whoever it was.  This wasn't someone he recognized. The hand was a bit chilly, and pale blue eyes stared at him before she turned away.  "I will inform Brron-sama of your arrival."

She swept away, tiny snowflakes falling in her wake.  Kenzan slowly sat up the best that he could and looked around.  They were in some kind of a reception area - a room that had only a few chairs for furniture, tapestries on the walls and rugs on the floor, and one single wide window letting in the sunlight.  There were a few others who weren't him or Geise there, but no one seemed that interested in him.  Geise lounged on one of the chairs, feet up on another one, and Kenzan suspected that he was busy counting out how he'd spend all of his money once he had it.

Footsteps sounded - a quick, firm stride.  All of the locals turned toward the door at once, as a trio of young people entered.  All three were male, and two of them looked so much alike, they had to be twins.  The third one stood a bit shorter than the twins, and was a bit more average in coloring, brown to their blue, but he exuded so much more presence that every eye in the room came to him at once.

Even Kenzan's. His tail lashed a little; he wasn't sure if he liked the feel of any of them.  This one regarded him out of brilliant golden eyes, eyes that spoke of a simmering rage just out of sight, before he turned to the other two.

"He might be useful,"  he said.  "Wild Raptors are fast and hungry - this one's been kept pretty badly, though."

Geise set his feet on the ground and pulled himself to his feet, grinning widely.  "It's not that bad.  Throw some food at it and let it run around for a while and it'll do anything you tell it too."

The three turned towards Geise and Kenzan wondered how anyone could look into those six eyes and still walk out upright and unafraid . Even he wasn't sure if he could, and he thought at his best he could rip any of them apart.  But Geise either didn't notice or didn't care if he did.

"So you're the one who brought him here,"  the golden-eyed one declared, arms crossed over his chest.  "And I suppose you want some money for him."

"That's how this works, boys,"  Geise agreed, smiling in a way that made Kenzan want to shred him on the spot.  "I get you what you want and you give me what i want."

The three of them exchanged glances again.  One of the blue-haired ones came closer to Kenzan, regarding him quietly, before he glanced back to his twin and nodded.  Kenzan wasn't sure if he would have noticed that if he weren't so close. 

Then all three pivoted as clawed feet sounded in the hallway outside and Brron himself, Mad king of Dark World, entered the room.  the locals all bowed down at once, while his three sons nodded politely.  Geise made no gesture of respect at all.

"He brought us a Wild Raptor,"  the golden-eyed brunet reported, gesturing to Geise, "and wants you to pay him." 

Brron swung his head from his children to Geise, then stalked over to the hunter.  "And what makes you think I'm going to pay you a single coin instead of taking what my children want and tossing you into the arena?  Hunters know something about fighting, don't they?"

"Because it would be easier to pay me and have me go away than it would to put me in there,"  Geise replied lazily. "I can go be someone else's problem."

Brron looked almost convinced.  Kenzan's. talons scraped against the bars of his cage and he snarled as best he could.  The mere idea of Geise casually leaving, with or without a huge pile of money, after the last couple of weeks infuriated him! 

The twin closest to him regarded him again, then murmured something to the other two.  The brunet considered something, then stepped closer to Brron and whispered.  Brron chuckled and ran skeletal fingers through the brunet's hair.

"My dear Juudai.  Such a chip off the block you are.  Truly, your father's son."  He patted Juudai on the shoulder, then turned towards Geise.  "Instead of paying you right away, we're going to play a game of Juudai's devising.  If you can make it to the borders alive, then you can escape with your life, and we'll have a substantial amount of gold sent to you."

Geise frowned, tensing up.  "And if I can't?"

"Oh, I think you can guess at what will happen then."  Brron waved one hand.  "Now you should get moving.  You don't have a lot of time."

Kenzan hadn't ever seen anyone run so fast or look so terrified when they did.  He didn't have much time to savor it, though, as the muzzle around his jaws and the ropes and net binding him started to be unbound.  The cage was opened and he all but fell forward, raising his head and sniffing around curiously.

"He definitely needs something to eat,"  Juudai mused, regarding him.  "I think Wild Raptors eat raw meat, don't they?"

The one of the twins that had been near him all this time nodded slowly.  "But I think this one might have his own thoughts on what he wants."  He turned back to Kenzan.  "Don't you, shapeshifter?"

Kenzan tensed at once, eyes darting this way and that, searching for the quickest way out of there.  He so seldom spoke to humans and never, ever told them what he was.  Not after what happened when he was younger. How could these know about him?

"Are you sure?"  Juudai asked, regarding Kenzan thoughtfully.  "He looks a little scrawny for a shapeshifter.  Don't they take better care of themselves?"

Kenzan's head snapped around at once.  "Because I haven't had any proper food in weeks!"  He snarled.  Then he blinked - he'd given himself away.  All three of them looked some variety of smug.  The one closest nodded.

"I thought so.  Would you like to eat in this form or as human?"

Kenzan still didn't want to trust these people.  These were the sons of Brron, who had destroyed the world that had once been to create a new one.  It didn't matter that he'd never known that world.  His tail lashed about before he slowly shifted back to his human form.  "What do you want?"

"I could go for some lunch,"  the other twin offered, raising one hand to rest on the head of a pink-purple cat-like creature that appeared on his shoulder.  "What about you?"

Brron laughed uproariously.  "Then let's eat.  Come along, boys."  He shuffled his way along, and Kenzan followed, every step nervous as they headed deeper into the castle. No one here seemed to really care that he was a shapeshifter, only that he was very hungry and so were they. 

He did have to wonder about Geise and what would happen to him, but the prospect of food meant so much more, especially as he could scent well-roasted meat.  There were other scents in there as well, and he wasn't sure if he recognized which type of meat it was, only that it smelled delicious and the more he smelled it, the more he wanted it.

One of the twins nudged him.  "What's your name?  I'm Rune."  He nodded towards his twin.  "That's Johan."  He jerked his head to the third.  "And that's Juudai.  You probably know Brron-sama, don't you?"

Kenzan nodded a little.  He didn't have quite the same sharp senses in human form as he did in his raptor form, but he understood enough with what he had. 

"What's your name?"  Rune asked again.  Kenzan hesitated; he had few options at the moment.  If he wanted to eat, he'd have to do what they wanted.

"Kenzan,"  he said at last.  He didn't remember a lot about his parents, but he recalled his name, at least.  Rune nodded. 

"Nice to meet you, Kenzan.  We're going to be great friends."  And the way he smiled made Kenzan wonder what was going on, and what he'd have to do to find out. He also wasn’t sure about the way that Rune eyed the bruises that still blossomed over his skin.

It wasn't long before he found out at least some of it.  The four guided him to a dining area, with several seats placed around the table.  this was where the delicious scents came from.  Brron seated himself at the head of the table, with Juudai and Johan at his right and left hands, and Rune next to Johan.  Rune nodded towards the empty seat next to him, but before Kenzan could sit down, Brron spoke.

"Before you eat, you're going to pledge yourself to myself and my sons - to protect them when needed, to obey them no matter what."  He laughed softly.  "If you don't, there are other places waiting for you.  Ones you might not as like so much as being their servant."

Kenzan wasn't surprised.  He'd heard enough stories about what Brron did, and it wasn't a surprise that his sons were the same way.  None of them looked even mildly bothered by this.  But he did catch a hint of something in Rune's eyes, something he couldn't place right now.  It wasn't fear; he knew what fear smelled like, no matter his form.

There was a part of him that would forever desire to protect.  He'd done it before, before he learned what he could do, before he'd had to flee the village of his ancestors.  Then he'd done it when he'd guarded that small area he'd called his own, before the hunter took him.  If this was what was desired here - if it got him the food he needed more than he could even think clearly about right now -

"I'll do it,"  Kenzan declared.  He wanted to find out what they had in mind for Geise as well, and he’d not find that out if he fled or remained locked up somewhere.

The other four all nodded and Johan rested one hand on his twin's shoulder.

"Told you that we'd find you a good guardian,"  he said, a hint of pride in his tone.  Kenzan didn't pay too much attention as he settled down and started eating.  Whatever else he needed to do, he'd figure out along the way. 

The End

Notes: I have further ideas for this, including what Geise’s ultimate fate will be. But all in good time!

[woodstockbtswriter]

Voyagers

Genre: Fluff/Headcanon

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (Female)

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to join BTS on a Bon Voyage adventure leads to once-in-a-lifetime love.

Author’s Note: So sorry for another long wait, but I hope this update will be worth it! Please note that my drabble Affection fits into this part, and I’ve added a link where it should be read. Enjoy!

GIF Credit: MONOSUGA

Part Thirteen

Making Camp

Darkness had descended over the campsite by the time you and the boys returned from the store

As Yoongi parked the SUV and you climbed out of the backseat, you were surprised to find that Jimin had already set up the tents and Jin was starting a fire

As everyone pitched in to unload the groceries and make camp, Namjoon started getting cold, so he went to grab his coat from inside the camper

He returned wearing a parka that looked a lot like yours and holding two more jackets in his hands

When he got closer, he handed the jackets to you and Jin, but you realized he was wearing your coat and Jin said his was in the SUV

Laughing and teasing Namjoon about the mix up, you swapped around until everyone had the right jacket

Namjoon apologized as he helped you pull yours on, and you caught sight of Yoongi watching you from across the campsite

He looked away quickly when you saw him, still wearing a small frown as he organized things for dinner

You felt an urge to take up your post beside him, but you knew you should find a way to help some of the other boys

Hoseok was washing dishes in the camper, Jimin and Jungkook were setting up tables, and Namjoon was assembling chairs, so you took turns assisting each of them

And you tried your best to not let Yoongi’s frequent glances tug at your heartstrings

You had decided you’d talk to him as soon as the camera crew wrapped for the night, but until then

You had to continue to appease the producers

And, as hard as it was, you had to put your own feelings aside

You couldn’t help but notice him getting flustered though, as he tried to prepare dinner by himself, wandering around muttering, “What do I do?”

You wanted so badly to help him anyway you could

So when Taehyung came up with the idea to fetch a bucket of water from the camp manager’s office so Yoongi could wash vegetables, you jumped up to accompany him

After getting directions from Jimin, you and Taehyung quickly set off in the dark, a cameraman jogging behind you

It was a bit of a hike to the office

As you walked, Taehyung brought up how hungry he was and how much he was looking forward to dinner

You agreed, and he asked why you weren’t helping cook

You shrugged, saying you just felt like doing something else tonight

Taehyung seemed unconvinced, but he didn’t pry, and you were grateful

When you reached the office, the manager kindly provided you with water, making small talk as the bucket filled

Taehyung then hefted the full bucket with two hands, and you headed back toward the campsite

Not long after you left the office, you could tell that Taehyung’s arms were already growing tired, so you volunteered to take a turn with the water, and you began passing it back and forth every so often as you pressed on

When you drew near to the campsite, Jimin spotted both of you struggling, and ran up to relieve you

You thanked Jimin as he took the water bucket from your shaking arms, and he expressed his gratitude to you and Taehyung for bringing it so far

Another Fireside Meal

As soon as Jimin placed the water next to the stove, Yoongi set to work washing carrots and potatoes, and you went to sit by the fire

Jimin then took over your role as Yoongi’s assistant, peeling and chopping vegetables when Yoongi asked for help and you - much to your regret - didn’t volunteer

You sat between Jin and Jungkook as they tended the fires, watching Yoongi cook curry and manduguk

You noticed that even with Jimin’s assistance, he still seemed tense, and you had to restrain yourself several times from getting up to lend a hand

Eventually, dinner was ready, and Yoongi brought the pots of food over from the stove

You and the boys helped yourselves, enjoying the dumpling soup and curry with white rice while you all sat in a semi-circle around the fire

As you ate, Yoongi wondered out loud about what you should have for dinner the next night

And you and Hoseok were amused by how he could think about food even while he was eating

Yoongi looked to you as you chuckled, and you tried to communicate an affirmation to him in the small smile you gave him in return

When most of the main dishes were gone, Yoongi started grilling pork over the brazier, but the fire started flaring up out of control

Panicking slightly, he called for bigger tongs to save the meat, and you instinctively jumped up

You searched frantically for the tongs Yoongi needed, but before you could find them, Jimin slipped on a pair of fire-proof gloves and pulled the whole grate off the top of the brazier

Luckily, the pork belly wasn’t burned, and the boys wasted no time devouring it

The discussion around the fire then turned to sleeping arrangements, and Yoongi and Jimin decided they would sleep in the big tent, Jin chose to sleep in the SUV again, and the rest of the boys opted to sleep in the camper

As for you, one night of freezing in a tent had been plenty, and you wanted to sleep in the warm camper too

So it was agreed that Namjoon and Taehyung would share the bed in the back of the camper, Hoseok and Jungkook would share the bed over the front, and you could sleep on the dining table that converted into a bed

Once that was decided, Yoongi ordered Jungkook to wash some apples and oranges so he could make mulled wine, or “vin chaud”

Though he complained a little, Jungkook obediently went inside the camper to prepare the fruit, and the rest of the boys stood up and dispersed too

While Yoongi shouted instructions to Jungkook, Namjoon and Jimin walked off together, remarking that Yoongi was “really into it” tonight

You followed them, wondering what they meant, and sat with them on the far side of the campsite

But before you could ask, Namjoon sighed heavily, and you could tell he had a lot on his mind

You and Jimin asked if he was okay, and he admitted he was feeling a lot of work-related stress and it was making it so that he couldn’t fully enjoy the trip 

You weren’t sure what to say, so you put a comforting arm around his shoulders, and agreed with the encouraging words Jimin offered

You felt bad for Namjoon and the rest of the boys

As a fan who usually only saw the happy, positive image they projected, it was sometimes easy to forget that they were constantly under an enormous amount of pressure to do and be everything that was expected of them

It was hard to imagine the weight they must all carry

Your arm still around Namjoon, you looked back over your shoulder, watching Yoongi attempting to open a bottle of wine, and your heart ached to comfort him too

Yoongi felt you looking at him and he watched you back, his tiny frown persisting

Unable to take it any longer, you stood up to go to him, patting Namjoon on the shoulder as you left him with Jimin

In Vino Veritas

Yoongi had passed the wine bottle to Hoseok by the time you crossed the campsite, but he was finding it difficult to open too

When you reached them, you offered to give it a try

With a little effort, you successfully unscrewed the cap, and Hoseok was impressed

But Yoongi pouted that they loosened it for you, and your self-satisfied expression quickly faded

Taking the open bottle from you while avoiding your gaze, he poured the wine in a pot and added the prepared fruit and some spices

When the pot was ready, Jungkook balanced it on the fire, then quickly came to the rescue when it started tipping over only a few minutes later 

After the wine was stabilized and allowed to simmer for a while, Yoongi and Jin began ladling servings into paper cups

You and the other boys all gathered around the fire again, curious to try the vin chaud

Carefully taking a cup of hot liquid from Jin, you inhaled the steam and were surprised how medicinal it smelled

You took a tentative sip, and reflexively pulled a face

It tasted like medicine too, and not in a good way 

So far, everything Yoongi had made had been delicious, but unfortunately, this drink was an exception

You looked around and saw Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook having similar reactions, their faces scrunched in poorly disguised disgust

Yoongi continued drinking his wine, claiming he liked it, but you surreptitiously sat your cup aside, not daring to try another sip

Changing the subject, you asked about the next day’s activities

You, Jin, Hoseok, Jungkook, and Yoongi wanted to go fishing, but Taehyung was planning to go horseback riding

While Taehyung was convincing Jimin to go with him, you felt a wave of sleepiness wash over you, and you couldn’t hold back a yawn

Jimin noticed and said that he was sleepy too, and Yoongi agreed that he felt like he could fall asleep right there

You then overheard some people being rowdy at the campsite next to yours, and you laughed when Namjoon called “hi” to them

Yoongi gave you a quick glance, then shouted “hi!” to the neighbors too

You smiled at him, and Namjoon suggested he ask if they know BTS

Seeing your smile, Yoongi immediately complied, yelling out  “Do you know BTS?!”

Not missing an opportunity to tease Yoongi, Jin scolded him for doing something he’s repeatedly been told not to do, and everyone broke into giggles

Namjoon then observed it was late and suggested it was time to clean up, so you all worked together to tidy up the camp

As soon as things were organized, the boys started getting ready for bed, retiring to the tent, camper, and SUV one after the other

Yoongi stayed behind to put out the fire, and you dawdled too

You refused to give in to your weariness until you talked to Yoongi, so you tried to appear busy ensuring everything was in its proper place

Finally, the production crew decided turn in, and Yoongi clapped to wrap filming

An Overdue Explanation

As the cameramen disappeared into the dark, heading to their own campsite, you approached Yoongi beside the fire

Somewhat timidly, you asked if you could talk to him, and he regarded you skeptically

You held your breath, your heart thrumming as you awaited Yoongi’s response

Then with a scoff, he expressed his surprise that you actually wanted to talk to him after avoiding him most of the day

You didn’t hesitate to apologize sincerely, telling him you could explain everything if he’d let you

Sighing, Yoongi nodded, and you took a deep breath before allowing everything you wanted to say to spill out of you

You told him about the producer pulling you aside, and everything he’d said about spending too much time with Yoongi and needing to spend more time with the other boys

You explained how you felt you had no choice but to agree, and how avoiding him most of the day had not been your desire

In fact, it had been torture

You assured Yoongi that if it weren’t for the cameras, you’d have spent all of your time with him

Then you apologized again, communicating your hope that you had not hurt his feelings

When you finished rambling, Yoongi took a moment to process everything, his mouth set in a line

And despite your anxiety, you allowed him the time he needed to think

After moment, he sighed again, but this time he sounded much more relaxed

“I should have guessed that was the reason.” He said. “That’s a relief.”

You lifted your eyebrows

It was a relief that the producer’s interference was keeping you apart?

Yoongi nodded, saying it was a better explanation than the one he’d imagined

Affection

Previous - Next

Taglist: @bucky-thorin-winchester @yvemoon @serpentiinequeen @neilpoetssociety @narcissism-iskey

[sybilius]

Fic Writer Interview

Tagged by @bibright! THANK

Name(s): Syb. Some people call me by my given name (Em/Emily), but mostly on here I prefer Syb :) 

Fandom(s): The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly is the one I’m most active on, but I’ve hit the tags in: Death Note, Helvetica (Webcomic), Wolf 359, The Old Guard, The Queen’s Gambit, True Detective, For a Few Dollars More, Beyond the Law, Death Rides a Horse, the Silmarillion, and Dollars Trilogy RPF (for a yuletide!)

Where you post: Ao3, the best gift to fandom ever. 

Most Popular One Shot (by kudos) Overall/This Year: burn this city (Death Note) which was my first fic posted there, so not surprising. I don’t think I want to revisit it, heh. Top from this year was acute gifts (The Queen’s Gambit) which is incredibly gratifying. Nice to know that if I post in an actually well-populated tag, I do in fact get a commensurate amount of attention :) 

Most Popular Multi-Chapter (by kudos)  Overall/This Year: ghosts in the machine (Death Note), which is also my first multichap there, not surprising again. Top from this year was where owls no longer cry (The Old Guard); which I still owe a last chapter to! 

Favorite story you've written so far: My default answer is The Grey Desert Mythos and I think that still holds. Still waiting for that elusive reader who has watched both GBU and The Blair Witch Project to come and yell at me for doing That Scene with fuckin’ Angel Eyes.

Fic you were nervous to post: Ah, um, probably the seeing and the sound? I didn’t even post promo for it when I first posted it; it just felt like something I needed to do. I’m rarely shy about my work but I just did not know how to frame that fic in my mind. I felt the same way about Grey Desert for a while, tbh. It took some distance and validation to get me to understand that it was a good fic. Sometimes you just can’t be like....objective about your work because it’s too close to you. 

How do you choose your titles?: They just sort of come to me, or I iterate on a series of words. Like for Sighted crows in a desert of rime I had this list that basically was a bunch of winter words and I typed out mishmashes of those until it looked right. 

Do you outline?: Always. I’m the world’s biggest planner. I can semi-accurately predict the word count of my fics to the nearest 200-400 words if I try. It’s important to me that I understand how much work I’m signing up for before I sign away my soul, because I really don’t like leaving works unfinished. 

Complete: 65 works, sweet dealio. A few of these are complete yet I left them on sad or uncertain notes that I intended to write a sequel for and never did, but they’re still closed as far as their own story goes. 

In-Progress: 6 works. Two of these are abandoned and labelled as such, 1 is just a tumblrfic dumping grounds, so that leaves 3 open threads (the seeing and the sound, owls, the lucy tapes).

Coming soon/not yet started: Horribly, most likely the Europe AU as soon as I can figure out how to scope it properly. It’s. in my sights. Hopefully running out of tomorrows, the last longfic in count to ten and run for cover. There’s about 13k words of it simmering in my gdocs, many of which were added by @believerindaydreams. I’m waiting till the seeing and the sound is all tied up before I scope the work that needs to be done. I’ve also got a Yuletide fic cooking!

Prompts?: Only if I’m in the right mood; so not right now XD I’ve written some nice Karrosen original work on prompt though!

Upcoming work you're most excited about: Oh, probably putting a wrap on the seeing and the sound! Three more chapters left and I’m so proud of how it turned out!

tagging: @believerindaydreams, @kerugiall, @seadem-on, @girlfriendsofthegalaxy, @madtumbleson, @lgbtmazight, @realisaonum and anyone else who sees this and wants to do it, tag me! I’d love to read about your fic roundup!

[emospritelet]

Heatstroke - chapter 5

Neither of them is in the mood to kiss and make up right now, but I managed to fit most of the prompt in :)

[AO3]

x

Lacey watched Mr Gold stalk off, leaving drips of her mojito in his wake and with an air of wounded dignity hanging around him like a black cloud. She was still breathing hard in her fury, her heart pounding, and she went back inside to make herself another drink. Damn good rum I just threw over him. Bastard. Pervert. Of all the nerve, taking my underwear and trying to blame it on the bloody cat!

She mixed her drink, adding rather more rum than she had the first time, and telling herself she deserved it. Her dinner was cooked, but she decided to leave it in the pan for ten minutes while she sat outside and wound down with a drink. Assuming her pervert neighbour wasn’t hiding in the bushes waiting to ogle her.

She went back outside, taking a seat on the porch and looking out over the rear garden. Darcy was sitting in the middle of the overgrown lawn, one leg in the air as he washed himself amongst the weeds. The garden was a mess; she supposed she should really see about tidying it up a little. Perhaps Storybrooke had a resident gardener who would cut grass and pull weeds. No doubt the person to ask for a recommendation was the guy who owned most of the property, but if she never saw him again it would be too soon. Even if he was interesting to look at naked.

Lacey took a drink and set down her glass, eyes straying to the padded envelope he had thrown at her feet before striding off. After a moment, she bent to pick it up, spying a familiar pair of panties poking out of the top. She upended the thing on the table, and out fell her missing underwear. Even the fuchsia bra. At least he brought it back, I guess. Welp. I’m either throwing this in the laundry or lighting it on fire, which is it?

She poked the underwear with a finger, frowning suspiciously. No evidence that it had been - tampered - with. No evidence that he’d worn it around the house, although she had to admit she probably wouldn’t have been able to tell. No evidence that he’d used it to crank one off, either. And given her appalling taste in men, all of it had no doubt—at some point—been pressed against something even less appealing than a middle-aged underwear thief. Lacey nodded firmly.

“Laundry it is,” she said decidedly. That bra was expensive.

She settled back in her chair, picking up her drink and turning her gaze back to the garden and musing over her plans for the weekend. Ruby had invited her to the local club the following evening, and she was looking forward to seeing what Storybrooke had to offer in the way of nightlife. Not much, if the size of the town was anything to go by, but it would beat sitting indoors staring at the walls.

x

Gold had spent Friday evening and most of Saturday in high dudgeon. He had stripped off his suit and shirt when he got home, shoving it in a bag for the dry cleaner, and had showered to get the stickiness off himself. He hadn’t felt like cooking anything too fancy, and had instead sat around in his silk robe, drinking one whisky after another and brimming over with righteous indignation. Bloody woman. Didn’t even give me a chance to explain. And when I did she looked at me like I was lying through my teeth.  

The encounter had put him in a foul mood, and the residents of Storybrooke seemed to pick up on it. Unfortunately, for many of them it was rent day. He dealt with their payments with as little interaction as he could manage, and locked up the shop at six, making his rounds of the businesses that were open in the evening.

Gold had interacted with his new neighbour precisely twice, and on both occasions had ended up with a drink thrown over him. So entering The Rabbit Hole and finding her at the bar with Miss Lucas automatically made him pause. The two of them hadn’t seen him, and so he kept to the shadows as he approached the bar, tucking in beside David Nolan, who was staring glumly into his beer. Gold leaned forward a touch so that he could see Miss Lucas and his new nemesis. The young woman was talking, gesturing with a hand, the other holding the remains of a drink. The sight made his eyes narrow.

“...so I threw my mojito over him,” she finished. “Can you believe it? ”

“That’s - that’s gross!” said Miss Lucas. “Are you sure it was him? I never had him pegged as a pervert.”

Gold felt his jaw tighten. So. She hadn't believed him when he told her that the cat had been stealing her underwear. So be it.

“He brought me my panties in a bloody envelope!” insisted the woman, holding her thumb and forefinger a hair’s breadth apart. “I was this close to lighting it on fire! My best bra, too! For all I know he used it as a wank rag!”

Miss Lucas burst out laughing, and Gold ground his teeth, feeling anger simmering away inside him. He was tempted to turn around and walk out again, but decided he’d be damned if he let her chase him away every time they met. He leaned on the bar, catching the eye of the bartender, who gave him a nervous nod.

“Whisky,” said Gold evenly. “And the rent.”

The barman gulped, picking up on his mood and turning away to pour a whisky. He set the glass down and hurried off, and Gold picked it up, taking a sip. He kept an ear trained on the two women along the bar from him, thankful that Nolan was keeping him hidden from them.

“In some ways it could have been worse,” Miss Lucas said. “If it had been one of the knuckle-draggers in this place, they wouldn’t have stopped at underwear theft.”

The young woman snorted.

“I can handle myself,” she said. “Oh, but don’t ever leave me alone when drunk, okay? I make terrible choices.”

“Understood.” Miss Lucas reached for her drink. “Gotta say the pickings are pretty slim in Storybrooke at the best of times.”

The young woman shrugged.

“Another rum and coke and I won’t care too much,” she said, and took a swig of her drink. 

Gold sipped his whisky, and the bartender returned with an envelope full of notes.

“It’s all there,” he said hastily, and Gold nodded, taking the envelope and tucking it into his jacket pocket. If it wasn’t, there’d be hell to pay. He drank the last of his whisky, setting the glass down on the bar.

“I’ll take a rum and coke,” he said, and the bartender blinked. Gold raised an eyebrow. “Something you don’t understand?”

“No, no.” 

The bartender turned away, grabbing a glass and starting to prepare the drink. David Nolan took a slurp of his beer, setting down the glass.

“I don’t know why the hell I come in here.” he muttered, almost to himself.

“Lack of alternatives, I imagine,” said Gold dryly. “Of course, you could always stay home.”

“Going crazy staring at the same four walls.”

“Really?” Gold shifted his position a little. “I find the solitude very soothing.”

“Yeah.” Nolan swirled the beer in his glass. “Sometimes being with people makes you realise how lonely you are.”

Gold rolled his eyes, not in the mood for either reflection or self-analysis, and Nolan drank the last of his beer, setting down the glass and nodding to him before walking out. He was replaced by Dr Whale, who ignored Gold in favour of eyeing Miss Lucas and her friend.

“Whose round is it?” asked Miss Lucas.

“Mine, I think. You almost done with that?”

“Almost. Just starting to get a buzz, so let’s not let it die. I came here to forget my past mistakes by making brand, spanking new ones.”

“Hey, if there’s any spanking to be done, at least save it for the bedroom.”

The two women chuckled, and Gold drummed long fingers slowly on the bar as he waited. The bartender set down a tall glass in front of him, cubes of ice and a slice of lime stacked up and filled with rum and coke. He gave Gold a sickly grin.

“Not your usual drink,” he said.

“Oh, it’s not for me,” he said pleasantly. “It’s for the young woman over there.”

He jerked his head to the side, and the bartender’s eyes widened.

“You’re buying a drink for Lacey?” he asked.

Lacey. So that’s her name.

“In a manner of speaking,” said Gold, and put a hand over the glass just as the bartender reached for it. “Don’t trouble yourself, I’ll give it to her.”

He threw down some cash for the drinks, stepping back with the rum and coke in his hand and swivelling on his heels to face the two women, who had finished discussing their poor decision-making and moved back to discussing his likely perversions.

“Makes you wonder what else he’s into,” Lacey was saying.

“It might make you wonder,” said Miss Lucas. “My brain is screaming whenever it tries to go there. What the hell are you gonna do about it, anyway? You live next door, isn't it gonna be super awkward?”

“Well, I guess I can just ignore him,” Lacey said. “Not like we need to interact, is it?”

“At least you don’t pay him rent,” agreed Miss Lucas. “I can’t believe this, I never thought he’d be a pervert. He’s always buttoned up to the neck in those suits of his, and I’ve never even seen him date.”

“That just confirms pervert status,” said Lacey decidedly. "Probably has a sex dungeon and a stash of BDSM porn."

Miss Lucas shook her head.

“I just don’t get that vibe,” she said. “I mean he’s always a stickler for the rent, and I kind of doubt he has a sense of humour, but he’s not a lech, and he’s always been polite. To me, anyway.”

“You sure he hasn’t stolen any of your underwear?”

“I think I’d notice.”

They both chuckled, and Gold took a step closer as Lacey wrinkled her nose.

“I mean, I accept you've known the guy longer than I have, but I gotta say that ever since I found him sunbathing naked I kind of got the feeling he’s a kinky bastard.”

Miss Lucas choked on her drink.

“Ever since you what?”

“Ah, yes...” 

Gold’s lazy drawl made them both jump in their seats and turn to face him, looking an uncomfortable mixture of guilty and nervous. He favoured them with an unpleasant smile.

“You mean the time you trespassed on my property, interrupted a private moment and then threw a drink over me?” he said lightly. “I was going to try to forget the incident, but since you chose to slander me in public...”

He tossed the drink over her, and Lacey shrieked as ice cubes bounced off her chest, one slipping down inside the low-cut dress she wore. She scrabbled at it with a hand, and Gold tried to ignore the alluring curve of a breast as she fished out the ice cube and threw it at his feet.

“Mr Gold!” 

Ruby looked appalled, eyes wide in her face. Lacey’s shock had turned to outrage, and she slipped from her seat, glaring at him with her hands on her hips. In her high heels she could almost look him in the eye, and her glare was blue lightning, stabbing at him and piercing through his skin to burn him to ash. It was almost exhilarating.

“Are you insane?” she demanded, and he met her glare with his own.

“Oh, this is me exercising restraint, dearie, believe me,” he said coldly. “You’ve thrown a drink over me twice, each time for no good reason. You’ve spread falsehoods about my proclivities and slandered my name in this dive of a bar, and hence to the entire town. Consider this payback. And a warning. If I suffer any further indignities at your hands, I will take immediate and devastating action, do you understand me?”

Her mouth had fallen open as he spoke, and a crease of confusion appeared in front of her eyes as he went on. The bar seemed to have gone very quiet around him.

“I believe one spilled drink will be sufficient retaliation for the two you threw at me,” he said, his voice almost a growl. “Cross me again and there will be consequences.”

She was staring at him in silent fury, and he bowed his head a little before striding to the door, anger and indignation making him seethe.

“It was the cat!” she yelled after him, and he stiffened, hunching his shoulders a little.

“Well, I did try to tell you that,” he muttered, and wrenched open the door.

[litwitlady]

whoever is filthy, let him be filthy still (4/6)

Read on AO3. - A chapter ahead over there.

Warnings: mentions of murder and childhood abuse

iv. Max

‘And Max. He’s your brother? You were found together?’

Michael nods but frowns. ‘We’re brothers in theory, I guess.’ 

‘In theory? Explain that.’ Dr. Sampson hands him a cup of coffee and settles back into her seat. 

He shrugs. ‘He and Isobel were adopted together. I got thrown into the system. Once I returned to Roswell, we struggled - I struggled.’ He clears his throat and takes a sip of the coffee. ‘He can be a condescending dick. And as de facto leader, he pisses me off - a lot.’

‘Have you ever been close?’ Dr. Sampson has a voice that lures things from you - ugly truths that you never made a conscious decision to admit. To yourself or anyone else. Michael decides it’s her superpower. 

‘Once. Back in high school. Before all the lies.’

She smiles warmly, trying to soothe the answers loose. ‘I know you two aren’t blood related, Michael. And that your relationship is often strained. But do you still think of him as your brother?’

‘Only sometimes.’

***

Michael doesn’t immediately go to Max. He drags his feet for a couple of weeks and is happy to continue doing so, but Isobel has other ideas. She begins orchestrating reasons for family meetings - their doppelganger problem, Liz and Max’s emotional crisis, her desire to cook some new recipe. 

None of her plans work. Michael too stubborn and Max too oblivious. It’s not until Max unexpectedly climbs down into Michael’s bunker that avoidance is no longer possible. And he comes at the worst moment. Michael is already fuming - his newest calculations providing nothing but bad news. No matter how many simulations he runs. It’s frustrating, but not nearly as frustrating as when he’d run into Alex and Forrest that morning. At the Crashdown having breakfast, hands touching across the table. This time they had noticed him and he honestly wishes they hadn't.

‘Not in the mood, Maxwell.’ He doesn’t bother looking up from his worktable.

Max ignores him and slides a stool over, sitting far enough away that Michael can’t reach him. Already playing defense to Michael’s anger. ‘You’re never going to be in the mood for this, so sit down and listen.’

Michael laughs, bitter and sarcastic. ‘Fuck you, Max.’

‘I don’t want to be the leader of this anymore.’ He motions vaguely around the bunker.

That certainly grabs Michael’s attention. ‘Come to handover your letter of resignation?’ He sits down on his own stool and smirks at Max. ‘Because I accept. Long live Queen Isobel.’

‘Not Isobel, Michael. You.’ He’s looking at Michael through those big, brown puppy dog eyes - full of sincerity. Not a single hint of humor anywhere on his face.

Michael laughs anyway. ‘I don’t have time for this, Max. Go brood somewhere else.’ 

Max stays quiet but he doesn’t move. He watches Michael work for a long time. It frustrates Michael because it’s always been one of his favorite strategies. Wait him out until he crumbles - which Michael always does because Max can be a patient motherfucker once he digs his heels in and decides to be an asshole.

The air around them thickens and when Max clears his throat, Michael comes the tiniest bit unhinged.

‘Alright, fuck! Say what you came to say. I’ll listen.’ He only half means it, but Max seems satisfied enough. 

‘Sheriff Valenti confessed something to me a few months back. Something I’ve kept from you and Isobel.’ He stares down at his hands and grimaces. ‘I didn’t know how to tell you or what any of it meant or even who I was anymore. And that was wrong. I’ve been wrong about a lot of things, Michael. Especially with you.’

Michael rolls his eyes at Max’s melodramatics. ‘Spare me the contrition, Max. Just spit it out already. I have work to do.’ 

‘It wasn’t you in the group home who was drawing all over the walls. It was me.’ Their eyes meet over the table and a heated silence falls around them. Michael blinks slowly, not comprehending what he’s just heard. ‘I was the deranged, damaged kid. And I think I’ve known that all along.’ He shakes his head and breaks eye contact, staring back down at his hands.

More silence. Several moments stretching long between them. Finally, Max sighs. ‘Say something.’ Emotion straining his voice. Eyes welling with tears.

Michael continues to glare at Max. Not believing he has the audacity to cry. He tries to stand but it’s like he’s glued in place. And instead of his normal white hot rage, a calm coolness washes over him. Pooling in the bottom of his belly. Michael knows that feeling is hate. Pure, icy hatred. He’s not unfamiliar with the feeling - Jesse Manes, Kyle Valenti, Flint Manes, Noah Bracken. Sometimes the list seems endless.

‘Explain it better, Max. Make it make sense.’ Every word pushed through teeth clenched so tight he’s worried they’ll break.

The tension surges between them, the temperature palpably rising in the windowless bunker. Michael’s not sure he’ll hear anything Max says - not with the ferocious pounding in his head. Blood pumping through his veins like icy sludge.

‘All my nightmares as a kid - the times Isobel literally had to mind-walk me so I’d calm down. My obsession with the symbol - the way I’d doodle it over and over again in every notebook I ever owned. And then the tattoo.’ His voice cracks, high-pitched and frantic. ‘Now, with all that devil talk? Michael, I couldn’t have survived what you survived. I’d have killed more than some random pervert in the desert.’

Michael stalks towards him, fists raised. ‘Is that supposed to make me feel better? I was kicked around - slapped, beaten, burned. And that’s all supposed to be okay because you were safe? From yourself?’ A strangled noise rises from Michael’s throat. ‘I was never loved, Max. Not ever. Not once. All so you could be protected and loved, held tight by the perfect fucking family?’ 

He takes several steps forward, fisting the collar of Max’s jacket. The urge to wrap his hands around his brother’s throat throbbing in his fingers.

Max grips Michael’s wrists softly. ‘And yet, you are the most loving of the three of us. Of anyone I’ve ever met. And no that’s not fair, but it’s the goddamn truth.’ He pounds his fist on the table and Michael flinches, dropping his hands away and stepping back. Watching as Max’s tears finally crawl down his cheeks. ‘You’ve always had the most control - ever since we were kids.’ He throws his hands up in submission. ‘You’re not the murderer, Michael. I am. It always had to be this way.’

A manic sort of laughter overwhelms Michael. He can barely believe what he’s just heard. And by someone meant to love him. He turns his back to Max and moves as far away as he can. The rage inside him festering into something almost sentient. He closes his eyes and counts backwards from twenty - inhaling and exhaling around every number. Like Dr. Sampson had suggested whenever his anger tries to get the best of him. 

Michael can choose to take back control. To let it all go. Even if the other person doesn’t deserve such kindness.

And it works, mostly. Some of his tension drains away and the weight on his chest subsides enough for him to breathe again. He’s still angry - still furious. But it’s a low, simmering heat now - not the numbing white hatred that had consumed him earlier. His head is spinning with this sudden rewrite of his life and there’s only one person he wants to talk to right now. And that person is certainly not Max Evans.

Michael slowly turns around and shakes his head at Max. ‘I need time. Maybe a lot of time.’ He needs Alex. ‘I miss my brother. I’ve missed my brother for a long time now. But the truth is, Max? I don’t recognize you anymore.’

Max nods. ‘I get that. And for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry.’ He starts to walk away but stops with one foot on the ladder. ‘I won’t tell Isobel yet. To keep her out of your hair for a while. However long it takes for you to process all this.’

‘I’ll tell her when I’m ready, Max. You don’t have to keep making all the decisions and putting in all the work. We can’t be a family until we’re all on equal footing.’ He moves towards Max. Not necessarily because he wants to - because he doesn’t. Not right now, anyway. But he knows that some future version of himself will want this. That Max needs this and Isobel. Maybe even Liz. So, he wraps his arms around Max, quick and tight. One sharp clap on the back. ‘Maybe take a trip to California.’ He pulls back. ‘I hear it’s nice this time of year.’

Michael returns to his calculations and Max leaves, already planning the best route to California in his head.

[esepoimipullula]

For the ship bingo, may I get uhhh... pete/trudy (because I lov them), italian!grandpa beagle/grandma duck (op your mind 😩👌🏻) and scrooge/brigitta (out of curiosity) pwease?

Oooh, thank you!! Those are some very good choices because I actually do have quite a few things to say about them. XD

Pete/Trudy:

It’s not quite an OTP, not in the sense that I crave more of it and I’m always ready to talk about it, but I love it and think it’s a very good ship. I know it sounds silly because she was literally made for him... but they’re really made for each other. They’re literal partner in crimes, a well-oiled team and even a battle couple where one’s strengths and peculiarities complement the other’s, and at the same time, they’re just two cute, silly romantics who give each other lovey-dovey nicknames. It might just be my love for villainous couples who genuinely love and care for each other talking here, but I think that’s an adorable dynamic. 

However, I am kind of picky about it. I remember reading some stories, years ago, where their domesticity was emphasized (which I did like) but the rest of their dynamic was... not that great. He thought she was a nag and she thought he was a boor, he didn’t care enough to remember dates and anniversaries and she was too demanding and uppity and had unreasonable expectations, he hated her cooking but couldn’t tell her that because she’d get angry and yell at him, there were jokes about her being fat or unladylike or both... sitcom married life, basically. I didn’t like that. I much prefer an expert thief Trudy who offers Pete some clever advice because they’re partners in work and in life and succeed or go down together, and a Pete who clearly loves her and likes being around her and cares about her opinions. Bonus points if they snark a bit at each other but like, mildly - not because they actually want to offend the other but because they’re generally snarky people. EXTRA bonus points if they use crime as a way to flirt or plot and execute crimes together like other people go on dates. I want them to have fun and make heart eyes at each other while robbing banks and whatnot. <3

My only exceptions are the Pete and Trudy in Wizards of Mickey and the ones in Cronache della Frontiera. Those are SO GOOD but it’s because of how lowkey or highkey fucked-up they are. And also because the Trudys in those universes are HOT. There, I said it. u.u 

I’m not the biggest WoM fan (the first seasons were pretty cool and had some really interesting concepts, but the ones that followed... eh) but seeing Trudy as a rugged, fabulous evil witch pirate, so sure of herself and competent, was super fun... just like her bickering and flirting with arrogant dark wizard Pete! 

When it comes to Cronache della Frontiera, where their relationship is Unhealthiness Central... oh, the shifting power dynamics! Badass established crime boss Trudy taking the inexpert, somewhat uncertain (and possibly younger?) newbie Pete in and being charmed by his cocky and determined attitude despite everything, finding out she does have a heart in the process, only for him to gradually become even darker than her and the driving force in their group! And the jealousy! The possessiveness! The love triangle that actually WORKS (at least for me, lol) because it’s not really a love triangle at all! The literal attempted murder! THAT is the problematic stuff I like to see, not some sexist trope about the old, fat (*eyeroll*) ball and chain!

Incidentally, WoM!Pete/Trudy and Cronache!Pete/Trudy are the reason I circled the “sexual” option. Thinking about Disney characters having sex might be weird, but those two couples? I’m 100% sure they FUCKED.

-

Italian!Grandpa Beagle/Grandma Duck:

AAAAAAAAAAAAH, I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!! ;_______;

It all started with this story where the Beagle Boys and their Grandpa were arrested after a botched attempted at robbing the Quacktown post office and Grandma Duck took pity on them and offered to let them work off their sentence on her farm in hopes that they’d learn to be good citizens, and the boys slowly started to like honest work and having a kindly old lady around but old Grazia stubbornly clung to their traditional thieving ways despite his life having improved, too, so there was always this simmering tension between them. Or maybe it was the story where Grandma Duck got it in her head that there was actually some good in Grandpa Beagle and he liked her company so he tried not to steal around her, and the Beagles were like “wtf is happening” and Scrooge was outraged and kept trying to warn Elvira off that risky “””friendship””” (seh), and in the end he did steal something and she caught him except maybe it wasn’t really him and maybe she was unsure about their relationship and self-sabotaging by looking for any excuse to call it off and he didn’t like being with someone who didn’t trust him and/or couldn’t accept him as he was so they basically had a messy break up. Or maybe the one where everyone in Duckburg was literally brainwashed by their new phones except for them and Scrooge because ahahah old people hate technology, and they joined up in this badass old people heroic team to save the city, and Grandma and Grandpa had this nice little “oh, you’re pretty good at this!” “well, you’re not bad yourself!” moment while they took down the villains.

... okay, so I don’t really remember which one of these came first, but still, thanks to all of them I am DELIGHTED at the idea of this romance. I mean, they’re both smart, headstrong, driven, generally sensible, sometimes petty, pretty damn badass old people who believe very strongly in their own values? Except those values are pretty much opposite because she’s all about honesty and hard work and doing the right thing even when it’s difficult, but he takes pride in being a thief and wants to get rich by stealing? But then, they both care a lot about family and tradition? Except her family is fundamentally good if quirky and he literally encourages his to be ruthless criminals, and the traditions they care about reflect that? They’re basically foils, and the contrast and the similarities between them are both so strong... and so entertaining! 

And the soft old people romance! The possibilities for old-fashioned courting and quiet moments together just talking about their youth and the old days or about their families, the subtle but genuine compliments and expressions of affection, the rare but easy handholding and the heartfelt “I care about you”s...

I would DEFINITELY read fanfictions about them. But I think they would need to be either AUs (someone let them play a bickering couple in a parody or period story, PLEASE!) or, if set in regular Duckburg, either pre-relationship or mutual pining stuff. I’ve already seen them in a (sort of) romantic relationship in canon and it didn’t end well... and I honestly can’t see things ever ending any different. His nephews might come around and support them, especially if they liked her as a person and kind of came to see her as their grandma, too, like in that one story mentioned above, but I don’t think her family would. At least, not all of them, and especially NOT Scrooge, who’d do anything to keep them apart. Plus, unless he suddenly decided not to be a thief anymore or she decided to become a thief, too, - I can’t even tell WHICH option sounds more unlikely! - their differences would eventually drive them apart anyway. 

And that’s... kind of another thing I like about this ship, weirdly enough? The “it’s not unrequieted but it still can’t happen, and not because of any external pressure but because of who they are as people” angst. And the “I can’t be be with you because of who you are but I wouldn’t love you if you were anyone else” bittersweet angst/fluff combo. As the bingo square says, “it’s complicated.”

-

Scrooge/Brigitta:

No offense to anyone who does like it... but I just don’t. I usually appreciate unrequieted ships for the angst, but here the obsessive aspect is a major turn-off for me. Especially in those stories where it’s portrayed as a positive thing, like an expression of True Love or a sign that Brigitta is a strong-willed person who just has to hold out a little longer or push a little harder before she finally gets the happy ending she deserves. Or in those stories where other characters suggest Scrooge is just playing hard to get. Or where he’s forced to endure a date with her as punishment for something. Or where he gets scolded for not agreeing to go out with her, rather than for treating her too rudely or taking advantage of her feelings to reach his goals. Just... let people not date people they don’t like that way, maybe?!

That’s not to say I don’t like Brigitta as a character. I do, I think she has potential, and I don’t like it when she gets the short end of the stick, either. Like when Scrooge uses her to get what he wants, or he treats her badly even if for once she’s not being the clingy, smothering person she usually is around him. 

I do like those rare moments where they get along and he’s nice to her because he wants to and not because he’s prompted by either guilt or pressure. But that’s not really enough to make me ship them. Like, I could see them as friends? Or as mentor and pupil or equal business partners, since she’s a businesswoman in her own right? Bur never as romantic partners.

I’d say I wouldn’t read fic about them, but I actually did, once. It was a sad story about Scrooge dying and Brigitta trying to rebuild her life without him when he had been her goal and purpose for so long, and it had hints of Scrooge/Goldie, but technically, it still counts. And I actually wouldn’t mind reading more stuff like that... with Brigitta learning to let go and live her own life for herself.

[etraytin]

Quarantine, Day 37

I'm guessing most of you reading already know what this day of quarantine revolved around. I PASSED THE BAR EXAM!!!! They didn't post the results until early afternoon, which was just plain sadistic, but they did post them, and never have I been more thankful to have a name at the beginning of the alphabet. That's not the kind of suspense I need in my life. Pass rate for VA this February was 57%, which is about average for the February exam. I am hoping that all the people in my row with me also passed, but I never learned any of their names, so I don't know. We mostly just joked about how much it sucked to have to get dressed up and how cold the hall was, but it helped to have that little bit of human contact before and after the tests. They seemed pretty on the ball, and none of them spent the last hour doodling in their exam books like I did, so I hope they did okay. Thank you to everybody who has sent congratulations, especially to all of you who have been cheering me on for months. You are all excellent people and I love you. 

(Now that I have passed and I no longer have to agonize over possible time mismanagement leading to my downfall, I wish I could have my booklets back. I feel like I wrote some funny stuff during the interminable hours between finishing the tests and being allowed to leave, but I don't remember any of it now. I also learned that some states let examinees just leave when they are done with the test, which would've been so much less sadistic!) 

It's funny how much more public this celebration is than celebrating actually finishing the test. I talked about it on here, but much less on Facebook, IRL, etc. It felt like it would be jinxing it. Today, though, I have told basically every possible person, including complete strangers, that I passed the bar. They have all been very congratulatory, because they are nice. We celebrated by getting takeout food from the local Mexican restaurant that have been advertising that you can order up to two 16oz margaritas per meal ordered. Let me tell you, my friends, these margaritas are not fucking around. I drank half mine and got legless (I'm also a pretty cheap drunk because I rarely drink), put the rest in the freezer, and three hours later it didn't even have ice crystals yet. The food was good too, and I left a good tip. This has got to be such a weird time to work at a restaurant. 

Let's see, what else today? The continuing  saga of trying to figure out the sewing machine! Kiddo and I made another pillow, and I successfully sewed a seam into a pillowcase folded triple, so that's six layers of fabric. I should be able to sew pleats with that! A friend of mine also suggested that I could turn corners on seams by lifting the foot and turning the fabric, which could revolutionize the whole process. I will try it when it is no longer marg-o-clock. The other problem I've had is no elastic, and I am in no way capable of sewing the tiny long bits of fabric to make finished edges on cloth ties. I was thinking about knitting i-cord or something, until somebody suggested t-shirt fabric. Cutting strips of T-shirt makes long strands that do not ravel, and that curl in on themselves and have just a little stretch. They seem perfect! I have cut enough for two masks, so here's hoping. 

Getting a month worth of groceries yesterday was great, but I ran completely out of room in the freezer and had to take some old stuff out. I had more than a gallon of really yummy turkey stock I made this winter and I didn't want to lose it, but I had no place to keep it. So I thawed it overnight, then got out my big stockpot and spent all morning reducing it. By this afternoon enough water was cooked away that it fit in two pint jars I could stick in the refrigerator. It is much darker but still smells really good, so I'm hopeful. All I need is to make some noodles now. Plus I got two valuable tupperware back in rotation! I also made whipped coffee with my stand mixer. It’s hampered by the fact that instant coffee crystals simply do not taste very good, but the texture is awesome and the cold milk soaked out a lot of the bitterness. 

Oh, and I ate more of the ham rice pudding, which I don't think I mentioned yesterday. The other day when I baked the spiral ham, I saved everything, the meat, the bone, and the drippings. My mom told me about ham rice, which you make with ham drippings, but I think we had a failure to communicate in that I did not understand that you must mix the drippings with water before cooking the rice in it. I cooked 1.5 cups of sushi rice in two cups of straight drippings. It was very hammy, but also insanely salty. Like the kind of salty that burns your tongue. Not great! I didn't want to give up on it because it's a lot of rice, and I'm trying even harder than usual not to waste food, so I had to figure out something to do with it. So I made rice pudding. I took the rice and put it in a pot with an equal amount of whole milk and a quarter cup of brown sugar, and I simmered it into pudding. (Sushi rice makes kickass rice pudding, and very fast!) The resulting rice pudding is still pretty salty, tbh, but it is much better, and has a nice maple ham flavor. I will not make it on purpose, but I feel very clever about the whole thing. 

Honestly, this pandemic has made me feel more empathy than I'd have thought possible with the fifties housewives who were just nuts about aspics. You go through the war and all that rationing, of course you're not going to waste a cheap and easily available source of protein like gelatin, which you can get in powder but you can also just make by boiling bones. Nothing goes to waste, it's super thrifty! And when you're viewing gelatin as something that comes out of the soup pot instead of as sweet dessert that comes in little square blocks, it seems (somewhat) less insane to throw vegetables and meat into it, and to try and make it look interestingly sculptural at the same time. Doesn't mean I'd eat it, but I understand it. 

Anyway, we watched the Tinykittens feed most of the day and the mama still didn't give birth, so time to go turn that on again. Man, I am really jonesing for some kittens! Somebody remind me of that in a month when I haven't slept in days and am covered in formula, okay? 

[hedwigstalons]

The Tracy Prize - part 14

My old laptop went to the electronics graveyard so I treated myself to a shiny new one.  Of course all writing ideas then vanished.

Have a bit of a fun and nonsense section while I work out how on earth to wrestle this fic to some sort of conclusion.

Here are the earlier parts for those that want to go back to the beginning: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13

xoxoxox

“Is it ready?”

 The low rumbling voice was quiet, a barely audible whisper in her ear.  It sent an illicit thrill tingling through her body.  There was no real need for the secrecy, Brains was deeply absorbed in his own project on the other side of the lab and had barely registered Virgil’s presence.

 Claire nodded.  She pointed the end of her pen at a small vial of colourless liquid on the back of her bench then continued scribbling in her notebook.  It had taken several attempts and some failed testing on herself in order to ensure the mix was right but she was satisfied the liquid would do its job.

“Good. Grandma has gone to the mainland for a couple of days.  I’ve checked in with John and there are no emergencies brewing.  Weather systems are quiet, volcanoes are peaceful and Langstrom Fischler is on his best behaviour at a family wedding.  The perfect night for a family dinner.”

 Virgil wandered off the claim the kitchen, leaving Claire to continue her work.

 Years of campfire cooking on family camping trips had given Virgil ample opportunities to hone his culinary skills for one-pot recipes.  With all the comforts of a well-equipped kitchen to hand he could knock up a chilli that would have his brothers salivating more than any fine dining could.  He knew that with this on offer no one would want to miss the meal.  

 He set to work chopping onions and tomatoes.  A special blend of spices was ground and mixed.  Soon the warm savoury aroma of good cooking began to permeate the house.  A smell that would develop and set stomachs rumbling as the chilli was left to simmer gently.

 First one resident then another wandered into the kitchen only to be swiftly evicted. Any brother attempting to dip a spoon into the pot for an early taste soon found themselves swatted away with a ladle.  Virgil was not going to let anyone spoil their appetites before the feast was ready.

 When the instruction was issued over the wrist comms that dinner was served it was as though the emergency alert had sounded.  Running footsteps sounded around the complex as everyone hurried to claim a place at the table.  Only Brains and Claire arrived at a more sedate pace.  

 Once everyone was seated Virgil started to carry across huge steaming pots of chilli, rice and a large tray of salty nachos to the table.

 “Claire, before you sit down would you mind giving me a hand?”  He indicated a tray of water glasses ready filled for distribution.

 Claire nodded and headed over to the counter.  With her back to the assembled diners she put a few drops of liquid from the vial into one of the water glasses then slipped the vial back into her pocket. Turning back to the table she then carefully handed out the drinks, making sure that one particular fish brother received the correct glass.

 Ladles were dipped into pots and plates were filled.  Virgil and Claire caught each other’s eye and smirked slightly as Gordon took a swig of his water while waiting for his turn with the serving spoons.

 Everyone began tucking in.

 Everyone except Gordon.

 The first mouthful of chilli had him coughing and turning slightly purple.  Scott looked at him with concern.

 “Just went down the wrong way” he croaked.

 The second mouthful burnt his tongue and the third had him breaking out in a sweat.

 “What’s the matter Gordon?  You don’t look too well.”

 Trust Scott to pick up on his discomfort.  He was starving and all he wanted to do was wolf down what was normally one of his favourite meals but the concoction in front of him was barely palatable.

 “I’m fine” he muttered.  “It’s just a bit too spicy tonight.”

 Now more than just Scott was looking at him with concern.  If anything Virgil’s chilli was on the milder aromatic side of the spice spectrum, something Gordon had been known to tease his older brother about on occasion.

 “You sure you’re eating the same meal as the rest of us?” asked Scott.

 Alan reached over and shovelled a large mouthful off of Gordon’s plate.  “Nothing wrong with the food.  Gordon’s just being a wuss” he announced.

 Everyone resumed eating but Scott kept a careful eye on the aquanaut, worried in case his brother was sickening for something.

 He wasn’t the only one keeping watch; Claire and Virgil shared a satisfied smirk.

 Gordon’s stomach growled.  He had been waiting for this all afternoon and now, for some reason, his portion was inedible.  Yet everyone else around him tucking in happily having been served from the same pot.  He nibbled at his rice and was pleased to find that he could eat that without a hitch.

 Having been denied the chilli Gordon turned his attention to the nachos.  As he popped the first crisp into his mouth it was as though his tongue had been dragged across a salt lick.  He hurriedly swirled more of his water round his mouth in an effort to take taste away.

 He was now feeling thoroughly miserable. He picked at his rice, the only thing he could manage to eat.  Plain boiled rice did not make for a satisfying meal.

 With the main course over Virgil cleared the table to make room for dessert.  Tubs of lemon sorbet were brought out of the freezer and placed on the table.

 “Hey, how come Scott gets his favourite?” Alan grumbled.

 “If you bothered to help out when the supplies need ordering you might be able to pop a few of your own favourites on the shopping list” Virgil admonished, leaving Alan looking a little shamefaced.  The youngest of the clan had got very adept at making himself scarce when there were household chores to be done.  “And anyway, the lemon will be a nice palate cleanser after the chilli.”

 It was with some trepidation that Gordon picked up his dessert spoon.  He took a nervous sip of water before taking a bite of the frozen pudding.

 He nearly went cross eyed as he received an intense sour hit.  His cheeks were sucked in and his tongue felt like it had cramp.  He threw down his spoon with a clatter.

 “Gordon, what the hell is wrong with you tonight?” Kayo snapped.  “Virgil spent hours cooking and you are acting like someone is trying to poison you.”

 Gordon was now thoroughly bewildered.  He looked around the table and his eyes lit upon Virgil and Claire who were both trying to stifle a laugh.

 “I don’t know.  But those two sure do.”  He pointed across the table as he made his accusation.  “I don’t know how, but those two are responsible.”

 Scott followed his brother’s pointing finger.  He couldn’t see how Virgil and Claire could have done anything, they had all eaten from the same pots and served themselves, but he knew his brothers and Virgil was definitely looking guilty.

 “Spill” he commanded.  “What have you done to Gordon?”

 Claire and Virgil shared a look.  It was time to confess.  Claire put her hand into her pocket, withdrew the glass vial, and placed it on the table.

 “What is that and is Gordon going to be ok?” there was a definite threat in the question.

 Virgil placed himself in the firing line.  “It’s perfectly harmless.  It just overstimulates your taste buds and makes them hyper-sensitive.  The effects wear off over time.”

 Claire nodded.  “I’ve tested it on myself a few times, you’ll live.”

 Gordon breathed a sigh of relief.  It explained why he was only able to stomach the plain rice.

 “And how much longer of this do I have to put up with?” he grumbled, taking another sip of water.

 “Well it lasts for about two hours after the last dose.  Which means…” Virgil looked theatrically at his watch, then at the glass that Gordon was still holding, “you have about one hour, fifty-nine minutes and thirty seconds left to go.  You have been dosing yourself nicely all evening.”

 “Why, Virgil?”  Scott knew the engineer was not one to act unprovoked and this was likely therefore to be an act of retaliation.  

 “Call it payback for his little chat with Auntie Val.  And he called Two a lumbering bus.  No one gets away with insulting my ‘bird” he pouted.

 Scott rolled his eyes.  These pranks between brothers were common enough and as long a no serious damage was done he generally found it was better to let things run their course.  

 He had to admit he was more than a little surprised that Claire had been a participant in tonight’s entertainment.  From what he had seen she was dedicated to her work.  If anything, too dedicated.  Before tonight he had been worried that she wasn’t really integrating with the family.  Now he was just relieved that, with her chemical talents, she had teamed up with Virgil rather than Gordon or Alan.

 For some people revenge is a dish best served cold.  For Virgil and Claire it was a dish best served spicy, salty and sour.