#Keen's jewelry form is a shoulder necklace :)

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 9, day 23

Another wing down! Three out of eight complete, only five more to go! And then I start shading her clothing! Or design her spearhead. One of those. I mean eventually both but one has to happen first.

[brain-rot-central]

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal, Ch. 7

A/N: *Full warning: we have depictions of nail picking and a panic attack in this chapter.* Alright everyone, we gettin' into it now. This chapter is how Tav feels about Astarion and the entire situation, thus far. She also pieces together a lot about what's going on and starts planning ahead. Happy reading! Rating: Mature Word count: 3.6k Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Tav (DU, named) Warnings: 18+, nail picking, panic attacks, unhealthy relationship Summary: Tav returns to her room to begin preparing for the evening's event with Magdalena waiting for her at her door. Tav quickly realizes that not everything is quite as it seems.

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It's late afternoon by the time the tailor finishes the dress. He heeds Tav’s request to keep extra fabric around the waist and with the dress in hand, she returns to her room to prepare for the ball. 

As she rounds the corner, Tav is surprised to see Magdalena waiting for her by the door. The woman holds two boxes within her hands: a velvet jewelry box and a shoebox. Somewhat unsettled, Tav gives the woman a warm greeting as she ushers her inside, closing the door behind them.

As Tav rests the dress over the back of a chair, Magdalena suddenly rushes to her. “Oh, I simply adore the color!” she exclaims. Magdalena places the boxes atop the vanity and picks up the dress, holding it out before her. Light dances over the rich green hue of the satin fabric, and Magdalena is simply in awe. “It matches your eyes, my lady,” she adds, looking over her shoulder.

She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, giving a soft chuckle. “Yes,” Tav agrees shyly, “so I've been told. Astarion insisted on the color for that reason.”

“Well, the young Master has always had a keen sense of fashion. This dress will pair wonderfully with the accessories he’s chosen,” declares Magdalena with a confident nod of her head.

Raising her hands to her head, Tav gives the older woman a questioning glance. Auburn locks cascade down Tav’s shoulders as she unravels her hair tie. She takes a moment to run a hand through her hair, shaking it between her fingers. Tav tosses her hair to the other side of her face as she meets Magdalena’s eyes. “More gifts from Astarion?” she inquires, tilting her head in the direction of the boxes.

“Indeed they are,” Magdalena says, carefully laying the dress on the back of the chair. She gathers the accessory boxes and makes her way to Tav, who is now sitting on the bed. “Earrings with a matching necklace,” she explains jovially, “and a pair of shoes to complete the ensemble.”

Tav stares at the boxes and her mouth turns upwards. He means to doll me up further? she relents, mood deflating. 

Astarion knows how much she dislikes this type of thing, so why bother? The gaudy, flashy jewelry. The clothing, shoes, handbags, hats… She'd feel more at ease in a suit of armor, pulling a sword off her back. 

That's probably not the most appropriate attire for a gala, however. 

She prays Magdalena hasn't brought makeup – Tav simply loathes the feeling of her skin suffocating under layers of concealer and powder. She bites her inner lip as she continues gazing at the accessories, contemplating. 

Well, perhaps a little mascara wouldn't hurt, she concedes. Eyeliner, too. So long as her freckles remain visible, she's satisfied. 

They pepper the tops of her shoulders and her breasts, as well as stretch across the bridge of her nose. A compliment to the permanent summer tan of her complexion, and it often leaves Tav pondering her origins. Though, the thought usually fades as fast as it forms.

Astarion noticed them not long after they started their affair. The nights they'd spend in his tent often left one, or both of them, shirtless and bare from the waist down.

He traces a pattern into her back with a single digit. The pressure isn't too much, really. Yet, it's enough to draw her out of her concentration from the journal in her lap. 

‘What are you doing?’ she asks, coarsely. Curse her short temper; Tav has no reason to anger at this situation, yet she feels the embers being stoked from below.

Astarion sits behind her, having just recently fed. There's a bloodstained rag laying next to his pile of throw pillows, and a throb deep in her neck.

‘Your skin, dear,’ Astarion says while dragging a finger across her bare shoulder, ‘is entirely covered with freckles.’

Tav quirks her brow, looking over her shoulder at him. ‘You have them too, you know. Across your face. And a little on your shoulders.’ Her neck protests the movement, but she'll live.

‘So I've been told,’ he agrees, ‘but you have enough to trace patterns with.’

She doesn't answer. Tav simply chuckles and resumes writing in her journal, adjusting her posture slightly. The violent urges are subsiding. She finds comfort in the fact that he means only to appreciate her form, not turn it into a spectacle.

After a moment, Astarion asks, ‘Would you like me to stop?’

‘Of course not,’ she answers, affectionately. ‘It feels good, actually.’

Astarion smiles and resumes his tracing, now with two fingers instead of one.

Tav never realizes what he etched into her skin until much, much later. She'd already lost him, by then. As she closes her eyes, she feels the ghost of his fingers passing over her shoulder even now.

I love you.

She stands in the bedroom, lost in thought. The fingers of one hand find a hangnail on the other.

Pick.

Would he have resisted, had she realized his feelings sooner? Would she have been stronger in her efforts to stop him? Could she have saved him? 

The far-from-innocent but budding man he was becoming, just starting to see how much light there is in the world. Only to end up swallowed whole by the depths of his own despair, his own lust for power blinding him. His fear, his desire for control.

Tav begins to chew the inside of her cheek.

Pick, pick.

Ultimately… she failed him. Stood there, frozen, watching helplessly as he let himself be consumed by all he fought so hard to escape.

I'm doing this for us, too, you know, Astarion had told her. 

He destroyed himself for them. For her.

The intensity of her finger picking increases, succeeding in ripping the hangnail out from the bed. The faint scent of blood fills her nostrils and she looks down, watching a small well of crimson pools within her cuticle.

Tav should have stopped him. Should have extended a hand to him sooner. She should have been more aware of his internal struggle. Because if she did, she could have pulled him back from the edge. Told him how much she cared for the man he was. If she did, they wouldn't be in this situation. Things wouldn't be like this, and they'd be happy. They'd be together, in love, and rejoicing over becoming parents, and–

“Lady Tavaria?”

The voice is Magdalena's, and suddenly the world snaps back into focus. She doesn't remember when she veered off, but she's thankful for the redirection. 

“I'm sorry,” Tav offers as she gathers herself. She sucks the bloodied finger against her mouth, extending her opposite hand toward the woman. “May I see the jewelry box, please?” she asks.

Magdalena hesitates as though to ask a question, but places the velvet box in Tav’s hand without further discussion. Tav opens the long, rectangular box; a gasp escapes her as she looks inside.

A diamond gold tennis necklace, with a pair of matching diamond earrings, lies within. Tav rotates the box, watching intently as the gems shimmer against the candlelight. Solid white reflects off the diamonds.

They're real.

Not only are they real, but their quality is about the highest one could find.

“He… He can't expect me to wear these, can he?” Tav asks, lifting her head to Magdalena. “These cost tens of thousands of gold!” Her chest burns; an uneasiness begins to take root within her. Something feels wrong about this, but she can't quite place her finger on why.

“I believe he does,” answers Magdalena, seemingly unbothered. She places the shoebox next to Tav, removing the lid. “I had a peak at everything before coming in,” she admits with a short laugh. “Lord Ancunín truly has such wonderful taste.”

The shoes are golden in color with a slight sparkle. Not too blinding, but it's noticeable when held up to the light. There are no elaborate straps or designs; they're a simple pair of slip-on dress shoes with a modest heel, no higher than two inches.

“Doesn't want me to be taller than him, does he?” Tav remarks between a chuckle of her own, desperate to hide some of the building tension. Both her and Magdalena exchange a strained smile as Tav reaches into the shoebox, grabbing a single shoe. She then takes the jewelry box with her opposite hand and heads to the mirror over the vanity.

The uneasiness in her chest is beginning to make sense. Why all of this seems… tainted. Almost soul-less. This should bring her insurmountable amounts of joy, to have someone treat her so well. But as she opens the jewelry box and pulls out the tennis necklace, placing it to her chest, she understands.

‘He's trying to buy my affections.’

Instead of having the difficult conversation about what happened the evening before, Astarion means to express all he cannot say through lavish gifts. It all feels rather… cheap, to Tav. A cop-out. Disrespectful, even, that she isn't worth the effort of having such a heavy conversation.

However, it dawns on her that Astarion may not be capable of having that discussion with her. That he lacks the emotional competency to navigate those feelings appropriately. So, instead, he places those feelings into gifts or actions, constantly skirting around vulnerability of any kind.

Her heart falls a bit deeper in her chest, and she rests the jewelry and the shoe on the vanity before turning to Magdalena. “They're all rather lovely,” Tav remarks, painting her best smile widely across her face.

The servant smirks and narrows her gaze. She clasps her hands over her lower abdomen, and says, “Yet something still troubles you?”

The metaphorical weight on her chest is crushing, and Tav contemplates expressing all in that very moment. Yet, a quick flash of her memory reminds her of Astarion's influence over the woman. 

“These past few days have given me much to consider,” Tav expresses, modestly. She longs for the ability to speak plainly, but knows better than to do so here. Not when Astarion has such strong influence over this woman.

Almost as expected, Magdalena's eyes glow, signaling her communing with Astarion. The light fades just as quickly as it appeared, and Magdalena then walks toward the washroom. “I’m sure you have much to discuss with Lord Ancunín,” she offers in acknowledgement. Yet, she’s unphased by Tav’s admission, quickly brushing it off as she says, “But right now, we absolutely must get you ready!”

The woman's aloofness is baffling to Tav. It's inconsistent with her prior behavior. But as Tav settles her gaze on Magdalena’s face, she finds the maid’s signature smile on display. 

And like the spark of a flame igniting, the puzzle pieces finally come together. Her stomach sinks. Her heart races.

He instructed Magdalena to drop the matter. 

He directed Magdalena to continue getting her ready.

Magdalena's kindness is a veil, subject to Astarion's whims. She will be as cold or as warm as Astarion commands. None of this is honest. As long as she stays within the manor, Tav will never be free. She will always be under Astarion's watchful gaze, directly or through surrogate means.

He will always know everything.

The gears in her head begin turning, almost on pure instinct. As if searching through an archive, Tav finally settles on something to challenge her current mindset.

‘But what is his greatest weakness?’ she asks herself.

“Of course,” Tav answers, sullenly, “though if you don't mind, I'd like to prepare on my own.” She looks intently at Magdalena.

‘His fear.’

Fear of the unknown, of lack of control. Fear that she will leave, reject him, despite all he's done thus far.

Tav knows Astarion; understands his heart as if it's a mirror image of her own. Fear drives almost everything he does, including his current treatment of her. It's an overcompensation for all he cannot do. Words he can never express.

The maid pauses for a brief moment, contemplating Tav’s request. Tav expects Magdalena's eyes to glow once again, but to her surprise, they never do. If Magdalena did speak with Astarion again, it was so subtle that she missed it. Her face only holds the stain of disappointment.

“As you wish, Lady Tavaria,” Magdalena says with a hint of uncertainty. “I'll be here to assist, have you any need of me.” She looks back toward Tav, taking a small bow, then exits the small bedroom.

As soon as Tav hears the door click shut, she sighs, clasping a hand over her chest. Her heart beats wildly against her ribcage, the adrenaline finally taking over. She can only remain stoic for so long before the panic sets in.

The cracks in her foundation are starting to grow, wider and fatter. The countdown to the collapse has begun.

Tav isn't being dishonest. These last few days have given her too much to consider. In fact, it's more like the last few weeks that have her head spinning. Months, even.

Astarion returning was enough to throw her off-kilter. All the effort she put in trying to right herself after the end of their relationship. The gaping wound it left within her chest, the scar still aching even now. 

But a few months of passion softened that scar and she found herself letting him back in, against her better judgment. She became accustomed to being deceitful when asked about her love life in order to hide her shame, only to fall pregnant with a child that could spell the ruin of all of Faerûn, if her Father demands it.

Tav rushes to the washroom, her throat tightening. Heat creeps up her face and her vision narrows. She sparks the flame to the oil lamp above the mirror and immediately opens the faucet. Gathering cold water in her palms, Tav splashes the flushed skin of her face. The water acts as a soothing balm, her mouth hanging open as she drags a hand down the front of her face.

It's not like her to play the fool for anyone. She’s usually the one with answers to everything. She's the fearless leader. She's in command.

Icy cold water drips from her brows, rolling down her cheeks, and she shuts off the water. As it drips onto her chest, she feels her heartbeat slowing.

But Astarion is different. She can hold him, but like a feral alley cat, he's skittish. Never staying in one place for too long. Divulging only choice pieces of a story to spin the type of narrative he wants to put forth. He wears so many different faces that it's hard to ascertain which is truly his. And it has her dipping her hands into the pot deeper each time, desperate to reach the bottom she knows exists.

Especially now.

Tav stares at herself in the mirror, her reflection looking back. Bags sit heavy under her eyes; a testament to her exhaustion. The bruise on her neck is better, though still visible up close. 

There was a time before all of this when she could easily admit to her beauty. Probably not winning any pageants, but she could hold her own just fine. Use it to her advantage, if the situation called for it. 

Tav doesn't remember much from before the Nautiloid, but she does see the drastic difference in her appearance now. Her hair is longer. Her bangs have grown out, the ringlets not as tight. Tav leans toward the mirror and tilts her head, wincing. She watches as crow's feet appear within the creases of her eyes.

She looks… older. Almost unrecognizable.

The Illithid War either aged her, or the child in her belly isn't shying away from having their fill. Which, given their paternity, is highly likely.

Tav stands straight, raising her hands to her head. She sections a part of her hair in the front and folds it over her forehead, replicating the bangs she had when they'd all first met. She sighs.

There's very little she can do about the passage of time. She's human, and is bound to show signs of aging at this point in her life. If asked, Tav would say she's in her late twenties, or perhaps even her early thirties. That part of her memory hasn't fully returned to her, though she can say with certainty that she's somewhere around that age.

The funny thing about time, she's learned, is that time marches ever forward to the beat of its own drum. There's little point in fighting it. All anyone can ever do is try their best to keep up.

Letting her hair fall back into place, Tav opens the cabinet behind the mirror. It's filled with various small dropper bottles, but on the middle shelf lay a pair of steel scissors. Her mouth shifts into a curious pout as she contemplates the shears. Tav closes the medicine cabinet, once again sectioning her hair and observing herself in the mirror.

In a split decision, she agrees to cut her hair. 

It's a risk, being so close to the event. But she cares not – she hears the direction as clear as someone's voice in her ear. And she follows the compulsion.

Tav dips her head into the sink basin and turns on the spout again. She wets the front of her hair, then parts it down the middle. Turning off the faucet, Tav then retrieves the scissors from the cabinet, slowly bringing them to her hair.

And with a breath, she begins to cut.

Strands of hair fall freely into the sink basin. She cuts perpendicular, creating a curtain-like effect. As she descends, Tav blends the bangs into the rest of her hair with face-framing layers.

She's suddenly met with a familiar face, of a woman she's seen before. One that she’s come to know very well. The lone warrior who faced countless foes without question, putting them to the sword and wearing their blood as ritualistic war paint.

The wicked child of Bhaal; a harbinger of murder.

A woman who fears no one.

Shaking out her hair, Tav smiles. A simple haircut isn’t enough to rid her of the deep ache in her chest, but it certainly soothes the burn. She lifts her face again, focusing her attention to her neck. The mark left by Astarion is fading, though it still screams loudly. Still boasts ownership, possession, of her.

Her stomach twists at the sight.

Concealer and foundation have their places, too, she realizes and she's ever grateful for their existence, at this moment.

She turns to the tub and opens the valve. Clean water flows endlessly into the basin and almost instantly, she's mesmerized. 

The palace hosts riches, plumbing, and an endless supply of fresh food. Servants who wait on you hand and foot, and is home to one of the most handsome bachelors in Baldur's Gate.

She could have everything, should she choose to stay here. She would never have to work again, never do a single thing for herself ever again.

But at what price? How much of a blind eye would she need to turn? 

Would it be expected of her to be seen and never heard? Is she to stand as a trophy on Astarion's arm, never to speak her mind again? Does he seek to extinguish her flame so he shines brightest?

The sound of water pounds loudly in her ears.

She would have everything, yes… but nothing that she wants. Her choices would be dictated solely by Astarion, as they are for Magdalena. As they are for every servant of the manor.

Exactly as he wants it.

She regains focus, shaking her head some, and reaches to shut off the tub’s valve. 

Astarion has changed, she realizes. He boasts an air of confidence, of a debonair. But within, he's frail. He now relies on the faux control that comes from the bottom of a wine bottle, forever a drink in hand. Without it, he's unstable. Out of place. She saw proof of it down in the crypts as his body began to warp before her eyes.

Awkward and struggling. He's desperate to hide that side of him – how the ascension may have done more than grant him insurmountable power. Of all that lay behind the mask he wears.

Quickly stripping herself of her garments, Tav steps into the tub. She lowers herself gently into the water and leans against the wall of the tub. Her hands rest over her stomach, rubbing up and down over the soft bump that grows with each passing day. The tension bleeds from her muscles as she gives into the warm embrace of the water.

Tav knows what needs to be done. 

She'll play along this evening. Act the part of the trophy wife, the bed warmer, the painted doll. She'll be as alluring as possible; even fuck him, if that's what he wants. Though, it’d be dishonest to say she doesn't want that, too.

Yet… she could always just leave. Avoid this entire ordeal. 

Astarion isn't keeping her here. In fact, he's left that as an option knowing she'd be less likely to entertain it, should he give it to her freely. It's a display of reverse psychology. An illusion of choice.

Once she speaks with Wyll, she'll be more confident in her decision. Tav knows the likely outcome is to leave, but perhaps her conversation with Wyll tonight reveals information she can use toward confronting Astarion directly. Hopefully she can drive some sense into that dastardly head of his.

And perhaps, depending on how their conversation goes… she’ll finally tell him about their child.

[brownandblackpearls]

🦇𝒯he  𝒱isitor (Alucard Tepes x BlackReader) Pt.7

PART 7 SUMMARY:

You and Alucard traipse from town to town together...until trouble strikes in the form of claws, fangs and delayed vengeance. With you left shaken and marked, your host isn’t keen on letting you back out of the castle anytime soon. Normally, this stifling limitation would annoy you...but Alucard has been spending more time with you, lately. Getting closer and closer...

...perhaps being stuck in the castle isn’t so bad, after all?

─── Alucard x black female reader

─── imagery + fiction

─── explicit smut

─── Fantasy, vampires, hurt/comfort, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, magic user, cute bats, gardening, cooking, cottagecore MC, castlecore Alucard.

☾ previous. ☾ next.

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└───────────━┿──┿━──────────┘

The next chilly morning, true to his word, you and Alucard make your way down to the garden to gather the harvest.

You’ve switched into a road dress, not wanting to let the nicer gowns that Alucard has conjured for you go to waste. Your hair is bundled up in a scarf neatly behind your head. You’re wearing gloves, ready to work. Alucard makes his way over to the garden and leans down, showing you how he intends to prepare the harvest to take into town.

“This is how we’ll wrap them. Watch closely...You see? Show me.”

He is watchful at first, instructing you on how to bind and rope the packaging just so. It is to keep any of the stock from falling to the wayside while you’re both on horseback, leaving a trail of produce behind you. 

His eyes are as sharp as ever, framed by lowered, dusky blonde lashes as he takes in your handiwork. The low rumblings of his voice give constructive critique, and you manage to avoid any accidents under his gaze. You wonder what he thinks of your hands briefly, before refocusing on the task.

You’re curious now, finding his instructive personality to be a much calmer one than his default. He seems so sure of himself here in the garden, and less walled off. Prepping vegetables is clearly something he had learned prior to your visit (as unseemly as it seemed to be for someone like him), and it is something he seemed more than willing to teach. Alucard seemed like one who liked to learn, now you thought of it.

Soon after, you wait as Alucard spirits away. He reappears with Brutus at his side and together, you prep the saddlebags before mounting the steed and taking off into the woods.

You lean back into Alucard as you watch the tree leaves speed by overhead, the feel of hooves stamping and thrumming through you both. The sound is rhythmic, soothing, and the smell of the green fills you. Alucard’s cologne mixes in with it, his hair beating against his back, with stray locks falling past your shoulders. It is still cool, yet the heat of the horse and his heavy riding gear warms you both. 

You sigh, realizing.

‘I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,’ you think.

Eventually, you arrive in town and it is lively. You sell everything, making a good profit. You know it isn’t needed, but it is nice to have something to do. You talk to vendors and merchants, your tongue wagging in conversation and your mood feeling light.

‘No,’ you readjust. ‘It’s not in the woods I want to be. Perhaps here? This town? But there’s nothing special about it…’

Currently passing by a stand of jewelers while in thought, one of them reaches out to you, giving you pause. You look into a wrinkled face.

“Yes?”

“A necklace for you, girl? A ring, an anklet?”

You stare at the wares, considering. You’re not here for jewelry you remember, though they are pretty.

“I couldn’t, but thank you.” You say.

“Oh, but you could. What a lovely dress you have on. Never seen one like it.”

You look down to your dress, another that arose from the depths of Alucard’s inventory. It is simpler in comparison to what you know him to have from the clothes you’ve seen this far.

“Thank you,” you say.

“Did your husband gift that to you?” the jeweler inquires, gesturing over your shoulder. You follow their gaze and realize they are looking at Alucard across the stalls, across the road itself. He is kneeling near a tavern wall, gifting coins to some street children, an old woman or two huddled beside the shadows of the building. 

He does not realize you are looking. He doesn’t know you are watching him give what you’ve both earned away to those that need it.

You find yourself surprised. You thought that Alucard ignored most of the world outside his castle and his surroundings. He could certainly afford to. Someone like him would never need to understand or empathize with the destitute and the ill. The human.

And yet there he was. 

“He’s…not my husband.” you find your lips saying to the merchant as you continue to watch Alucard.

“But you came into town with him.” The voice is suddenly sharp. You turn to look and see the merchant appears oddly hostile.

“What concern is it of yours?” you say, retreating a step back.

“Nice dress,” the merchant spits. “He is finely dressed, like you. He gives money away like water. Your skin is clear and dewy. You want for nothing. It’s in the way you move. Slow, measured. You can afford the jewelry. You can.”

You find yourself turning to go, yet the offending seller follows you down the line of stalls.

“Are you a mistress? A hanger-on? Does his wife know? How shameless of you, to parade around like this. The things young ladies do for money, these days.”

Your temper gets the best of you. By the time you feel it, it is too late.

You turn around and crowd in on the seller. Their eyes widen, understanding very quickly that the dynamic has changed. They take a step back. You follow.

“Go on, do slander me. Great sales tactic, I’m sure your wares fly off the shelves, the customers love it so much! And not that it’s any of your fucking business, but do tell me; how you would know anything about what I do and why?”

“...Why else would an unwed woman be out and about with a man so blatantly—”

“ —I could be anything, you bint. I could be a mercenary with a partner, a scholar with a professor, a diplomat with a guide…is your mind so small that the only thing you could conjure is an escort? Even if I was, I still wouldn’t buy your jewelry…you insult me, and you insult him. I won’t have it.”

“Is there a problem?”

You and the seller turn to find Alucard towering over your shoulder.

“No,” you and the seller say in unison, one out of fear and one out of dismissiveness.

Alucard gestured to the gems in the jeweler’s hands, plucking a shining necklace from the bunch easily. The jeweler tremored a bit, looking between you both.

“Ah, sir...your wife was simply looking at my wares. Pretty things for a pretty thing.”

Alucard holds the necklace up beside your face then, not answering the seller. He doesn’t refute or explain, only watches you. You watch his eyes take you in alongside the gem before he seems to make a decision. 

He clutches the necklace back into his grip and hands some coins over to the seller wordlessly. The seller mumbles their thanks before shuffling away, seemingly disbelieving that they made a sale after such a torrid argument.

Alucard dangles the necklace before you. “Do you like it?”

You frown. “You heard what they said to me.”

“I heard you defend our honor.”

“Is this a thanks for that?”

“This is because I want to.”

You pause then, a bit taken aback. 

“I suppose...it’s pretty,” you try.

Alucard situates behind you, fastening the necklace to your neck before clasping it together.

“Then,” his breath warms the back of your neck, “I suppose it’s yours.”

Together, you continue through town, the necklace on your neck. The gem weighs against your sternum and you wonder if other people are noticing it, noticing the two of you.

You are too nervous to inquire further on it.

Soon enough, the day’s dealings are done. On the way back home, you find yourself liking the woods once more, and then the castle itself upon the return home.

Home.

Ah.

‘I want to be where he is,’ you realize.

Yes. That’s it.

Alucard stalks up the steps before turning to you, curious.

“Coming?”

You find yourself smiling, not quite sure why. He also seems taken aback by the sudden expression.

“Yes. Let’s go home.”

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Every other week, the two of you venture into different towns for supplies. Sometimes you go with hooded shrouds, other times you walk freely out in the open. Sometimes Alucard takes you into the nearby towns, and sometimes he steers Brutus further out. You have a feeling he has a system on how he navigates the outside world, a system that keeps eyes off of him and keeps nosy townsfolk from tracking his identity. 

You love the trips. You love seeing other people and conversing with them, you love shopping through the inventory, you love getting the little bit of sun left in the chilly weather and you love going there and back with Alucard. He is like a patient specter…whether right next to your side or not, you have a feeling that he keeps his eyes and ears on you at all times.

It is during a return from another town, that something amiss happens.

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You’re riding in a wagon this time as Alucard directs Brutus, hitched and pulling the wagon along. It brings with it some new items, and a few things for you to use. You both could have went without any of it, you understand, but the socialization in bartering and trading was well worth it. It keeps the castle from feeling stifling, at times. You find yourself looking forward to return to it.

Brutus stops suddenly, rearing back a bit. Alucard’s eyes sharpen as he looks out into the forest, clearly hearing something. You watch him turn his head this way and that.

He calls your name. “__________, stay in the—”

You feel something drop into the wagon behind you, knocking things aside and pulling up close to your back.

It is not a warm presence. It is ice cold.

A hand grabs you roughly by the hair from behind, forcing you to bear your neck. You shriek in pain, unable to hide it. The shriek breaks into a gasp as you feel something sharp at the front of your throat, barely catching a gleam of the attacker’s blade.

Your head is wrenched so far back by the fist threatening to yank out your hair, that you can’t even lock eyes with Alucard. You can only focus on the trees lining above and try not to wrestle too much so that you don’t cut your own throat. 

‘This is very different from the last time I looked up like this,’ you note uselessly. ‘Let me understand who we’re fighting before I try anything…’

You quickly try tapping into other senses. You can hear two others drop nearby, on either side of the wagon. You can smell the scent of old blood and grime. 

Alucard doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t say a word. Brutus settles.

The one holding you at knifepoint laughs, their belly bouncing against your back. You feel sick.

“Little prince,” the one behind you calls. His voice is thick, like the seafaring folk of the north. “We heard the king is gone. Thought you were too. Guess it got mixed up in the letters.”

‘Vampires,’ you understand, putting it all together.

The breath rolling off your attacker smells rancid and you wince. Your captor notices, yanking you again and earning another whine out of you.

“Don’t like that, do you? Here, have some more—ah, ah, ah, little prince!” you feel the knife burrow a little closer in your skin, barely cutting it. “You’re fast, yes you are! But my knife will be faster. And your pretty little livestock will not recover from a blow like this. Hold your place.”

It is silent then, and another heavily accented voice from the side chips in.

“They say our leader never returned from your father’s castle,” it spits. “Where is Godbrand?”

“It seems,” Alucard clips in a low, threatening manner you’ve yet to hear yourself before, “you already know. What did you come for?”

“Godbrand,” they state again. “You will take us to him.”

Alucard laughs then, low and mirthless. “An army came and went. A rebellion began and ended. Where have you three been this whole time?”

You hear hissing and shuffling about. 

“Give her to me,” Alucard says, “and I let you live.”

The one behind you laughs again, curdling your stomach with the smell, the cruelty. 

“This isn’t a bargain or a trade, boy. Have you gone insane? Look at all this shit,” he kicks something in the wagon aside, “Cabbages! For a bloodsucker? Ha! You’re a trader now, Prince? You play merchant and house with this human whore? You, who can fly across nations, teleport through realities, and shapeshift into anything...taking this piece of shit wagon in the woods?”

The man spits and you pray it was to the side and not in your hair. Fucker.

“You sicken me! Weak. Your father would rattle to life if he knew what you were up to with those talents, wasting them for pussy. Like father, like son I guess.”

You can see the woods darken from where you are. You can spy the treetops begin to shroud in dark clouds. The air feels heavy.

Something is coming.

“You do not know my father,” Alucard says. “And as you said yourself…just like your pissant leader, your king is dead too.”

You shiver at the boldness in his statement, afraid of the knife slicing across your neck in retribution. Is he even thinking of you? But you hear it then…the vampire behind you…his breath hitches. You are saved from the foul smell. 

The vampires are afraid, you understand. Alucard knows this.

You decide to use this moment. You feel behind you for the vampire holding you hostage and try to focus the energy from your core. Sparks fly between your fingers and it is enough to jolt the assailant. You use his surprise to lean back into him, away from the knife and staggering him to the side.

It is the wrong move. The vampire simply uses inhuman strength to get you right back where he wants you, hands gripped in his fist behind your back and your neck under the blade. You’re both gasping from the struggle, but now with the vampire’s grip twisting your wrists instead of your hair, you can see Alucard and the others.

Alucard is closer, now. Just before the wagon, almost. His eyes burn into you before focusing on the attacker. You have never seen them more animalistic than that first day you met.

“See? Fast,” the assailant behind you sing-songs again. “But not faster than the knife!”

The other two vampires draw in behind Alucard, who pays them no mind. The one behind you tightens his grip on you. You feel your eyes begin to traitorously well up, all the emotions running high from this dangerous situation and frustration from being unable to reach Alucard…safety…who is just out of arm’s reach.

“What’s so special about this one?” the vampire asks, nudging his face against yours tauntingly. His beard leaves a burn behind that you despise. “Can’t be what’s under the dress. Those are all the same. Maybe it’s the blood?”

You feel a tongue lathe at your cheek then, and groan in disgust as you try to inch away without running towards the knife. It’s impossible, and you’re trapped in the game of cat and mouse.

Alucard’s eyes darken even further.

“I think,” Alucard begins, his voice steady and his footsteps backing slowly away from the wagon, “you abandoned your posts. I think you felt that you could slither back from where you came without Godbrand…only to find others like him, who would rip you apart for your cowardice. You thought by coming here you would spare yourselves from that...”

The darkness grows so heavy that you can hardly see. Alucard’s voice is the only thing that can cut it.

“...You should’ve let them rip you apart.”

“Oh-ho…now I know she must taste divine, for you to act this way,” your trapper calls, before he foolishly moves the knife from your throat and uses it to cut at your dress in a quick move. Your dress’s front opens and your sleeve is harshly moved aside, sharp teeth sinking into your shoulder. Before the teeth even puncture, you hear something sharp ring through the air.

It all happens so fast, you can hardly catch it. 

A long sword erupts at your side, running through your assailant’s head and missing yours by inches. The vampire pulls off of you to shout, dropping his knife, and you lunge forward and away. You hear his screams warble and croak off behind you. 

Another vampire leaps to grabs you up by the shoulders, yanking you off the wagon entirely. You feel his hands get ripped away from you as you hit the forest floor harshly. You’re quick to stand, swaying in confusion and adrenaline before trying to flee. Alucard and another assailant visualize before you, weapons swinging midair before they vanish once more. It’s almost as if you imagined it…but you can still hear the battle echoing around you.

'Fast,' you understand, turning back and ducking under the wagon.

Too fast for a human to run away from, likely. You don’t want to get in Alucard’s way while he disposes of these ambushers.

You hear clangs and hisses, shouts and bodies hitting the forest floor. Soon enough, it is quiet. You see Alucard’s boots materialize in front of the wagon.

‘He’s here,’ you think.

You crawl from under the wagon and before you can even move to stand, Alucard’s hands pull you up and draw you in. You clutch the front of his blouse tightly, squeezing into him and the cradle of his arms.

That was scary. You don’t want to go through that again. Now that Alucard’s here, it’s alright. 

You peek past his hold and spy a leg on the ground. Just one, nameless leg.

‘Right then. He took care of things.’

He pulls you back, his grip firm. His eyes rove over you as his hair flies astray, made a mess from the fight.

“Are you hurt?”

You look up to him to speak, and find yourself voiceless.

The ride back to the castle is a blur for you. The bodies of the vampires are left long behind and Alucard is sure to let the wagon roll over them on the disembarkment.

You sit in front of him instead of in the wagon, his arms tight around you.

Once at the castle, he makes quick work of unholstering the horse and stabling it away. He unloads the wagon. Then he finds you, still standing amongst everything, waiting for him and lost in your thoughts.

You’re guided through the castle in silence, the arrival to your personal bathroom harkened by the loud steps on the floor.

Alucard runs the tub’s faucet, steaming water jetting out. You sit aside, looking straight ahead and pawing at your neck, feeling the puncture marks and frowning.

Alucard looks at you then, stepping over to lift your hair aside, gazing at your bruised neck.

“Will I turn…?” you rasp.

“No,” he murmurs. “Their intent was to feed. Not to change.”

You feel the tears then, and sniffle a bit before looking down at the floor. Alucard lowers his hand before brushing a few of the tears away. His thumb, his touch, is not cold like theirs you realize. 

It is anything but.

───────────━┿──┿━──────────

The trips come to an end, abruptly.

After the attack, you find that Alucard is unwilling to return to town anytime soon.

You’re annoyed, but you understand why. He’s borne of an immortal creature, somewhat like a demigod on Earth. Trouble like what you faced on the road before is not hindrance to him. 

It’s you.

You’ve picked up your skills, but you still feel shaken after those vampires got so close to you…literally close enough to taste. It scared you then and it rattles you now.

He buffs up the insulation for the stable and prepares bedding and blankets for the animals. He takes cuttings from the garden to inventory in dry storage, there for future use while the Earth’s soil freezes over for the season.

Not long after, the snow begins to fall and frost begins to set. 

It is terribly beautiful from the castle. You can see the forest spread out far and wide, the treetops painted white and the snow falling easily. The stone of the castle keeps you warm from the elements, able to enjoy the beauty from a perch you weren’t always able to use.

You can almost remember the feel of trudging through thick snow like that, nothing but boots and cloth. Like a true adventurer. 

You feel a bit nostalgic.

‘What am I missing…?’ you wonder.

One day, he catches you staring out the castle windows at the snowy grounds below.

“Don’t fret,” he assures, interpreting your expression to be woe. “Spring will return soon enough. It may be safer to travel, then.”

When you don’t respond right away, he comes nearer and looks out the window with you.

“You’ve made your way through the library, I would assume. Nothing left to peer over?”

You think for a moment, your thoughts taking a while to gather as you take in the snow.

“Are you reading something at the moment, Alucard?”

“I am.”

‘I am lonely,’ you realize.

Yet, your host is right here. Perhaps he could help solve this dilemma?

“Can I read with you?” you ask, your voice softer than intended.

Alucard pauses a moment, clearly surprised. “With me...?”

“Yes,” you say. “With you.”

“I…” he looks at you for a long moment before nodding slightly. “Where would you prefer—”

“The parlor,” you decide. “In front of the fireplace.”

You head to the parlor together, quiet through the halls. Soon enough, you enter one of the many throughout the castle. You often wonder why this one is favored for Alucard, though you’ve never drawn it upon yourself to ask why.

You find you quite like it yourself. The colors are warm, the books rise high against their glassed cases, the fireplace is grand and warm, and the rugs and throws are divine. The settee is of a more soft material than the other leathered furniture in the castle.

It is softer, here. 

You sit easily in front of the fireplace, on the fur rug before it. It is clean and cozy for a floor, a far cry from the floors you’ve both sat and slept on in the past during your travels when an inn was out of the question. The fire crackles loudly as you settle, thinking back on the days before you were housed, your vagabond adventures.

You sigh contentedly and watch the fire, your dress swaddling around you as you settle. You don’t even notice your host until he is beside you, holding out your current book.

‘So he still tracks me,’ you think amusedly. “Surely my reading habits cannot interest you this much?” you jest.

Alucard ignores your teasing before taking his own and seating himself in the chair next to the rug. It faces the fire, the glow warming you both.

You watch as he takes off his jacket and vest, hanging them aside and relaxing in one of the simpler white blouses he sometimes dons. He palms open his book and begins taking in the story before him.

You note how rigid he is. 

‘Is he nervous?’ you wonder suddenly. As far-reaching as it is for someone like him, you feel as though he is. Maybe all this time, he wasn’t disgusted, but instead unsure of what to do with himself.

‘Hopeless man.’

“Relax,” you insist, tugging at his nearest leg beside you. He pauses in the chair at your touch, but you do not relent. You smooth a comforting hand down his calf casually before pulling away easily. “There’s no reason to trouble yourself with whatever is rattling around in that head of yours. Let the fire warm you. Relax.” 

You relax on the rug, one hand on the floor and the other flipping through your book as you read.

“Are you quite comfortable?” he asks suddenly.

You look up, watching Alucard watch you. You nod, smiling before looking back to your book.

It is a warmer feeling now than it was by the window, and though the fire helped, it was not the cause.

You find yourself toeing your shoes off and curling into the carpet, watching him watch you.

'Enough of this.'

You go over to him and his chair before seating yourself on his lap and curling up on him in the chair, book in hand. You feel his body turn like stone underneath you, but you choose to relax further, opening the book as you lay your head on his chest, curls tumbling down his front.

It is quiet for a long time, and you sigh comfortably before sinking back into your story and relaxing on your host. He unfolds inch by inch before finally unclenching himself all the way through, loose and easy.

He does not ask that you stop. He does not say a word. You hardly think he's breathing at this point.

You smile. 'Now was that so hard...?'

Alucard's hand suddenly reaches over to pluck the book out of your grasp before putting it aside; he then touches the underside of your jaw.

"What are you doing?" he murmurs at you. It's not a question, not really.

"Whatever I want," you reply easily, meeting his gaze. "I know that's probably fascinating for someone as straight-edge as y—"

His lips are against yours before you can even finish the sentence. His hands tangle in your hair, fingers unable to run through and clenching at your scalp instead, directing you. He leans you back as he leans forward, eager to seemingly sink into the very being of you.

He's never been this forceful with you before. It has never felt so good.

Your eyes draw closed against it, a whimper escaping you before you kiss back eagerly. You don't know who started with tongue but you're both pursuing it now, chasing one another down as the kiss continues into something more heating.

'He doesn't taste like blood,' you think. 'He tastes like wine.'

You hear the fireplace crackling at your side, the fever of the flames against your skin, the rustling noise of your dress against his clothes, and more than anything...you feel the hot, iron handprint of his touch at your waist, at your neck, at your shoulders, on and on the touching continues.

He pulls back, rasping words escaping him.

"You don't know what you're asking for," he begins, stroking at your waist as he eyes your mouth, fighting himself not to kiss you again. The words are bitten out, barely restrained.

"I'm not asking anything," you say, repositioning yourself in the chair to straddle him. "But if you show me...? Then maybe I'll ask nicely. Just for you."

───────────━┿──┿━──────────

AN: Do not under any circumstances copy, repost, or edit any of my work. If you see someone do so, please let me know.

☾ previous. ☾ next. 

☾ check my blog for more imagines

[tarathijewels]

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[karamfilmare]

White Gold and Maple

Kazuha x reader

Dedicated to my lovely mutual for her birthday @ahtsuwu -- sorry it came so late. You deserve this!

Description: Kazuha is behaving oddly, and for what reason?

Content: fluff, humor (?), surprise birthday, Kazuha being just the best bean. Modern AU (I think), light swearing(?), mentions of a spouse passing away (don't worry it's not too sad),

A/N: Sorry if this is shorter than my usual pieces and not as detailed. I wanted to get a short piece out, I hope it's fine. Also, not edited or proofread, sooo oops.

Stirring from your sleep, you stuck a hand out to find your boyfriend and sneak in close--only to find the spot was unoccupied and cool. Lifting your head, you frowned at the absence.

"Kazuha?"

You swung your legs off the mattress and walked around, confused by the silence in your home. Until you heard some light humming.

Finding your way into the kitchen, the smell of warm maple wafted around you. You found Kazuha standing by the stove, his hair messily put up in a loose bun, as he cooked what appeared to be some breakfast. He did not appear to notice your presence yet, so you quietly walked up behind him and slipped your arms around his waist and leaned against him.

"Oh, I didn't know you were awake. I wish you'd sleep in a bit more, I was going to wake you when I was ready."

"But I missed you," you murmured, slowly breathing out a sigh of content into his back. "I'm glad to see you."

"Ok, go sit down, I'll bring the food over in a bit."

Sitting down at the stool at the counter, you propped your head up on your hands, watching him move about. He turned around, the rich scent of maple and pancakes filling the air. Setting down your portion, he continued to watch you eat, asking if he did a good job with them, before laughing at your enthusiastic nodding, since your cheeks were full of sweet fluff. Your morning had gone along well, with not too much trouble, before he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"With deep regret, I must leave to attend to some things, but it shouldn't be long, alright?"

"Already? Ok, good luck."

And soon enough, he was out the door, leaving you to clean up after the couple of dishes left from breakfast.

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

Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

Reluctant to get off the couch, you ambled to your phone on the nightstand of your room, seeing a text from Beidou.

"Call me."

"Really?" you wondered out loud, knowing Beidou wasn't really one for conversations in the morning. Shrugging, you

"Hey."

"Yo. Listen, can you swing by where I'm at? I'm bored and I need company. Ningguang is shutting me down again, saying she's busy or some shit, ya know, the usual."

"Uh, sure, that's fine. Just send me your location, I'll come by."

"Great! I'll text you the location. Don't be late."

Don't be late? Seriously? From Beidou? "Fine, 'captain', I won't hold your important self up."

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

"So, I didn't think you'd be a mall person, Beidou."

"Nah, I just felt like it today, though. So, are you doing anything for your birthday?"

"My wha--"

Oh.

"Crazy that you remembered. But no, nothing planned."

The dark-haired woman quirked an eyebrow up, letting out a small sound. "Well, alright. This'll be my gift to you then. Let's go."

She dragged you along the mall, going from shop to shop, usually checking out food, candies, booze, and some clothes. After indulging in some boba tea and candies, you passed by a quaint little shop that caught your eye.

"Wanna go in? Come on, you seem interested." Beidou encouraged you to enter the shop, and you both quietly walked along the little stands. Earrings adorned a turning stand, necklaces and colorful rings were in glass cases, engraved paperweights, and other such pieces filled the room. You noted that these pieces didn't have the cold, pristine look of big designer jewelry stores.

"Huh, they look handmade, don't they?"

"Oh yes, every piece you see here is handcrafted by my family," a new voice startled you, an older woman with strands of grey enhancing her light brown hair. "Sorry for sneaking up. You've a keen eye."

"They're lovely." Indeed they were, the meticulous attention to detail. The rings looked like they were braided in gold, the gemstones inlaid upon them glittered under the light. Chains were linked carefully, the pendants all unique in some fashion. These pieces had character, something you would not mind having every day on your person.

Something caught your eye--a white gold ring with your birthstones, all laid along a pattern around. Not an engagement ring by any means, but something you visualized adorning your finger on a daily basis.

No, I might come back later and purchase it sometime. If it's not there, it wasn't meant to be.

"Ah, this one? My son made it to commemorate his late wife for her birthday, which is today. She passed several years back, but he chose to never forget her. This year, he decided he would create this ring that was similar to the one he made for her on an anniversary of theirs." The woman's eyes turned down slightly, her smile falling a bit. "But don't worry, he made this piece so that someone may show their love to their partner once again. Would you like to try it on?"

You hesitated, but Beidou coaxed you to try it on, before switching her attention to her phone. The woman slipped the ring onto your ring finger, finding that it fit you perfectly.

A grin appeared on her face. "It suits you, as if it were made for you."

Staring at it for a moment, you felt the slight longing for it, not just because of its appearance, but for the story that came along with it. You shook your head before slipping it off. "I might come back sometime later and see if it's here. I don't have any way to pay for this at the moment, I apologize. But it is beautiful."

"No worries. It might find itself back to you in some manner."

Perhaps, but unlikely. Nodding your head, you trudged along out of the store, expecting Beidou to be behind you, only to find her still inside the store, talking to the owner of the shop. Several minutes later, she hurried out, a faint smile lingering on her lips.

"Don't ask."

"I-- alright."

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

You parted ways with Beidou shortly after, and just as you leave the mall, you receive a text from Yoimiya.

"Hey, I can't make it on time to pick something up, could you go to this location for me, please? I'll make it up to you, PROMISE!! <3"

Shrugging your shoulders, you replied asking for the address, to which she replied with a pinpoint of the location. You texted Kazuha where you were about to go, just in case he made it home before you.

Except, the location wasn't a building. It was a large tent on the top of a hill, away from town. You found a slip of paper and picked it up, wondering whether the person was inside.

What the hell is Yoimiya picking up over here? Is she doing illegal business? What is going on here?

Just before you began to spiral in your thoughts, the tent opened up, revealing a smiling Kazuha. "Well, I'm glad you could make it. Come on, you're just in time."

"Just in time for--"

He pulled you close to him, guiding you to the other side of the tent next to the tree. Motioning for you to sit down, he settled himself right next to you. "Have you read the paper?"

Shaking your head, you pulled the slip of paper you found, finding words on the page in Kazuha's pretty handwriting.

The universe was blessed this day

When the heavens opened up

and you descended on earth

To touch my life.

The stars remain in your eyes,

And I wish on every single one,

That I can be called

Yours.

"Kazuha..." you breathed out, your mouth not able to form the words, as your gaze turned to the beautiful man before you.

"Look up."

At his urging, you turned your face up to the night sky. Several beats passed, before a streak of light shot up, before breaking into a large burst of colors. Several more shot up, taking your breath away. The show of sparkles

"Is that--"

"I had a bit of help to set up this moment. I hope you liked it."

Silence settled in, realizing that he was so excited about your birthday all this time. So the sudden texts from Beidou and Yoimiya weren't just random, they were planned.

"Oh, one more thing." Kazuha searched a pocket and pulled out a small box, bringing your hand close. "I heard from Beidou that this caught your eye, and I couldn't let it slip. So..." The ring you found earlier appeared once again before you, settling onto your ring finger once more. "I got it as a promise for us."

The emotions that built up within you finally spilled, tears streaming down slightly. "Kazuha, I swear...I'm--I'm in bliss right now, just being here with you. I just..." You placed your hands on his face and pulled him in for a soft kiss, which was immediately reciprocated.

The tenderness of the moment cemented a new shift in the relationship, one marked with devotion, rich and sweet, like maple. A birthday like this? You would remember for the rest of your life.

[feralthoughtdump]

Arsonist’s Lullaby

Part One: Kiss With A Fist

Part Two: Only Angel

Bucky and his Angel’s relationship grow closer. 

Word Count: 6.8K

CW: violence, Bucky and his nightmares, John Walker being an ass, a little bit of fluff, smut, brief shower sex, Bucky steps on the reader with his boots, spitting, choking, spanking, Bucky using his metal arm, crying, FATWS ep. 3&4 spoilers

The cold air of the cargo container was strange, given that they were in a southeast Asian island. It sent a chill down Angel’s spine. Like something would go very wrong. They survey the empty space, searching for Nagel.

Sharon was certain Nagel was here, but there was no sight of him.

But Angel could hear the slight vibrations of music coming from… somewhere. 

She approaches the back of the container and feels around the rough metal wall. 

“Hey, I think he may be in here.” She beckons them over. 

Pressing a gloved hand onto the metal, she pushed, revealing a small laboratory in front of them. 

“You three go ahead.” She mutters. “I’ll keep an eye out with Sharon.”

Before they can say anything, she strides out of the container.

“You don’t need to worry about them.” Sharon crosses her arms as the door closes. “I know them well. They can hold their own.” 

“Oh, I know.” Angel chuckles. 

“Bucky likes to call you Angel, huh. Seems like you two bonded pretty quickly.”

She gives Sharon a humored look as they stroll around the dock.

“I thought psychopaths couldn’t form bonds.”

“You know I didn’t mean it.”

Their eyes dart all over the place, looking for any oncoming bounty hunters. 

“How’d you get my photo anyways?” 

“Heavy analysis of CCTV footage, a few phone calls, and a lot of digging. The photo was shit quality, but it was enough for me to go off of.”

“Was it enough to catch me?”

“I guess so. Then Zemo blew up the UN so we tabled the case.”

“Interesting. Maybe that UN bombing was a blessing in disguise. Saved me a life sentence in a high-security prison.”

They turned a corner.

“You wouldn’t have gone to jail. MI6 would’ve given you a job instead.” 

“Hmph. I’d rather die than be a servant.”

From the corner of her eye, Angel spots a passing black shadow. 

“Guys,” she presses a finger onto her earpiece. “Someone’s here.” 

A gunshot rings out from the container and the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Sharon gives her a knowing look and they turn the safety off of their guns. 

“Here.” Angel whispers, handing Sharon a knife. “It’ll come in handy.” 

Three bounty hunters transverse on them and they open fire, taking them down one by one. 

“We don’t have much time, hurry up!” Sharon yells into the earpiece. 

A bounty hunter wraps their arms around Angel and she grabs a knife, jamming it into their arm. 

Adrenaline floods her system, dialing her senses up to ten. A swift roundhouse kick sends another hunter tumbling to the ground. 

From behind her, she hears Sam and Bucky yelling and she runs towards them. 

“It’s in every action movie!” She hears Sam yell.

If her life wasn’t on the line, she would’ve laughed. 

“You okay?” She pants.

“No! We’re not!” Sam yells. “Zemo shot Nagel!”

“What? Where is he?”

Her question was answered when a container set fire and exploded. She spots Zemo standing atop another, donning a purple mask. Before she can point him out, he sprints away. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” 

Gunshots ring from her right and Bucky wraps a protective arm around her. In her peripheral she sees a bounty hunter riding towards her on a motorcycle, guns blazing. She quickly wriggles out of Bucky’s grasp and sends a knife into the tire, throwing the hunter off of the vehicle and into the fire. 

“Good aim.” He says, mouth agape in surprise.

“You just threw that dude into a fire!” Sam exclaims.

“Yeah, well, he was going to kill us.” 

 They continue to run through the maze of crates, turning corner after corner, dodging bullet after bullet.

As much as he hates to admit it, the sight of Angel in action, when her violence wasn’t directed towards him, sends a rush through his system. 

Zemo speeds towards them in a convertible, signaling them to get in. Sam jumps in the passenger seat while Bucky and Angel sit in the back. 

Her pupils are blown wide and Bucky swears he can feel the electricity radiating off of her. Without stopping to calm down, he grabs her face in his hand and presses a passionate kiss on her lips.

His heart skips a beat when she kisses him back, and in the corner of his eye, he spots Sharon giving either him or Angel, a thumbs up.

… 

Bucky makes it a habit to call her Angel all the time. He likes the way it slips off his tongue. He likes the way her eyes seem to glimmer when he calls her that. It’s as if the more he calls her Angel, she seems to glow more and more. 

He calls her Angel when they board the jet on the way to Latvia.

He calls her Angel when she sits down to change the gauze on her thigh.

He calls her Angel when they get to the Riga safe house. 

The more time he spends with her, the more he notices the little things about her. He notices how her tongue sticks out a little when she does her eye makeup.

He notices how her head would bop along to music in her earbuds

He notices how she’ll curl up on the couch, tucking her knees close to her body, while she sketches.

He notices how she’ll mutter curses in different languages. Mandarin, French, Russian, Spanish just to name a few. 

He notices how she took off her jewelry when she showers with the exception of a gold chain. A gold chain with a dangling pendant. A pendant of a little angel.

He notices how she uses apple cinnamon body wash. It made her smell warm. It made her smell like home. 

She gets along with Sam. Even Zemo. 

She talks about philosophy with Zemo and when she converses with Sam, they talk about music.

She’s a force to be reckoned with. Fiery. Just like Selby had said. A firebird. 

And despite her cool, hardened front, there was a gentleness to her.

The jet had touched down in Latvia late and night and they collectively decided to get a good night’s rest before finding Karli. 

He had woken up from a nightmare. Reliving the memory of killing Yori’s son. 

He didn’t know what compelled him to do it, but he padded over to Angel, reading Anna Karenina. Glasses perched on her nose, hair loose and resting past her shoulders. 

She looks up at him.

“Nightmare?”

Bucky nods, tears pricking are his eyes.

She places the book on the floor and stretches out on the couch.

“Come here.” She whispers arms open wider

She let him lay his head on her chest, nose pressed against her sternum. With gentle hands, she runs her fingers through his hair, slowing his rapid heartbeat. 

The serum had made his hearing sharper and from his position between her breasts, he could hear the soft thumping of her heart. It calmed him. 

“Can you sing to me?” He mumbles.

The hand playing with his hair stops.

“Sing to you?” She asks.

“Mhm.”

“I-“ she pauses “I don’t really-“

“Please.” He begs. 

She’s quiet, just calmly stroking his hair, then she sighs.

“What do you want me to sing?”

“Anything. Just… please, I want you to sing for me.”

She ponders for a moment before she parts her lips, voice shaky and quiet. 

When I was a child, I heard voices

Some would sing and some would scream

You soon find you have few choices

I learned the voices died with me

He closes his eyes and noses at her sternum. 

When I was a child, I'd sit for hours

Staring into open flame

Something in it had a power

Could barely tear my eyes away

The song is unfamiliar. He didn’t listen to music all that much anymore. And even when he listens to music, it was mostly from the 40s.

All you have is your fire

And the place you need to reach 

Don't you ever tame your demons

But always keep 'em on a leash

Her voice, still soft and quiet, is haunting. The way it wraps around the lyrics, warms his heart. He breathes in the smell of her apple cinnamon body wash. 

When I was 16, my senses fooled me

Thought gasoline was on my clothes

I knew that something would always rule me

I knew the scent was mine alone

He loves the way he can feel her chest move up and down. The way her voice sounds so rich with his ear pressed against her chest, the music echoing within her ribs.

All you have is your fire

And the place you need to reach

Don't you ever tame your demons 

But always keep 'em on a leash

He reaches his hand to play with the angel pendant on her necklace. Finger running over the grooves. 

When I was a man I thought it ended

When I knew love's perfect ache

But my peace has always depended

On all the ashes in my wake

As he drifts off to sleep, he can hear the last lines of the song lingering on her lips. The images from war. The torture he endured, the people he’s killed, the amends he has yet to make, all temporarily fade from his mind. 

All you have is your fire

And the place you need to reach

Don't you ever tame your demons

But always keep 'em on a leash

And for the first time since Steve left, Bucky was able to sleep without disturbance.

… 

“You have a lovely voice.” 

Angel was pulled from her sleep when she hears Zemo’s voice. 

She glares at him and places a finger on her lips, shushing him. Bucky was still lying on top of her, still asleep and she didn’t want to wake him. 

“My apologies.” He smiles. 

“Were you watching us last night?” She interrogates quietly. 

“No, but I do have a keen sense of hearing. I heard you singing to James.” 

She turns her head to meet his eyes. 

“He had a nightmare. It was the least I could do for him.” 

“Understandable.” He nods. “My son used to have nightmares and my wife’s voice was the only thing that could put him to sleep.” 

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles sympathetically. “About your family, I mean. I know you lost them a while ago.” 

Her hand combs through Bucky’s hair. 

“I understand how vengeance and anger overtook you. You needed your revenge. But don’t hurt him.”

“Hurt who? James?”

“Yes.” Her voice darkens. “If you lay a finger on him, I won’t hesitate to bury you.”

Zemo sighs. 

“I have no intention of harming him. I see the way you look at him. It’s the same look I used to give my wife. You care for him dearly and given your line of work, I know you’d do anything to avenge the people who harm the ones you love.” He walks towards her and offers her a cookie. Angel takes it with a wary hand. 

“You’ve got anything else you want to say?”

“I do have a question about that song. I knew that something would always rule me.” He quotes. “Was that about yourself, or James?” 

She narrows her eyes. 

“It was just a song.” 

“Yet it implies that something will always have power, control, over the songwriter.” He tilts his head. 

“What are you implying, Baron?”

“It’s not an implication. It’s an observation. You two share a common trait. For James, it’s his past. His time as the Winter Soldier looms over him. As for you, you seem to have this, how do I say it, a compulsion to kill. It will always stick to you.”

“Baron, I suggest you pick your next words very carefully.” 

Bucky stirs and she lifts her hand from his head.

“Mmm. Good morning.” He mumbles, voice rough and heavy. 

“Good morning to you too sleepyhead.” She coos, rubbing his cheek with her thumb. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm.” He hums.

She gives Zemo a look that says ‘get out.’

Zemo gives her a smirk and walks away, leaving the two of them alone.

Bucky opens his eyes and Angel can feel her heart melt. He balances himself on his arm to press a kiss to her nose.

“You look cute with bed head.” He chuckles. “So pretty. I could just eat you up.” 

“You look quite pretty when you sleep.” She giggles and rubs her nose against his. 

He places his head back on her chest and they lie there for a while, listening to the sounds of the city. 

Finally, she sighs. 

“Alright, Bucky, I’m gonna go take a shower.”

He whines and wraps his arms around her.

“No, stay.”

“Bucky,” she says sternly, “I have to wash my hair, let go.”

With a huff, he sits up and lets her get off of the couch. As she stands she turns around spotting Bucky, arms crossed and a pout on his face. 

“I never said you couldn’t join.” 

Bucky jumps up and runs to her. He places his hands on her waist and turns her around, pressing a kiss to her lips. She links her fingers with his and he follows behind her towards the bathroom. 

While they wait for the water to heat up, she reaches into her bag to pull out bottles of product. 

He spots the shimmering bottle of apple cinnamon body wash and smiles. 

“Apple cinnamon body wash.” He notes.

“Mhm. It's inexpensive but it smells nice.”

“It does.” 

She places her hand under the stream of water and gets a feel for the temperature. The water is hot, just how she likes it. Her hands pull the t-shirt over her head and then her cotton underwear. 

Bucky waits for her to step into the shower before he strips down and joins her. 

A content smile crosses her face when the hot water hits her body but her peace is broken when she hears Bucky yelp. 

“Why is the water so hot?” 

“I like it hot.” She turns to face him and playfully pokes at his navel. “It’s relaxing.”

“You’re going to boil me alive.” He grumbles. 

“If you don’t like the hot water,” She bluntly states, “then get out.” 

She shampoos her hair, letting the bubbles froth around her fingers, and then she pours a bit into her hand and reaches up to massage it into Bucky’s hair. 

He runs a metal finger down her sternum, collecting a bit of the bubbles that run down her body. When his finger reaches her scar, his touch lingers. 

Seeing the guilt in his eyes, Angel places a finger underneath his chin and has him look into her eyes instead.

“Don’t.” She murmurs. “You’ll only torture yourself reminiscing on the past.” She pulls him under the stream, letting the water wash away the shampoo in their hair. 

She’s got a meticulous shower routine, one that she likes to perform herself, yet she’s okay with Bucky standing next to her. When she combs the conditioner through her hair, she does the same for Bucky, knowing it would soften his hair even more and make it smell like vanilla and pomegranate. 

She places a bit of the apple cinnamon body wash in her hands and rubs it onto his body. Her hands pay extra attention to the scar on his shoulder. 

“It’s got vitamin E in it. Helps with scars.” 

Bucky turns her around, making her face away from him.

She can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but she hums with relaxation when she feels his strong hands rub the body wash into her skin.

“You’ve got some knots in your shoulders.” He notes.

“I’m aware of that.”

“You’re stressed.”

“I am.” 

When the water washes away the body wash, the shower is filled with the scent of apple cinnamon. 

She’s surprised when she feels a kiss on the back of her shoulder but nevertheless, she enjoys it.

Bucky presses another kiss in the center of her shoulders and kisses her along the line of her back. He sinks to his knees and places a kiss onto the dimples of her back. 

“Buck, what are you doing?” She smirks, turning around. 

“I just wanna love on you.” He murmurs against her skin. “Can I?”

She blinks owlishly, then slowly nods her head. 

“Y-yeah” she breathes. 

Bucky places a kiss on her scar and runs his tongue over it, sending a fire through her. 

“Open your legs for me, doll.” 

She shyly parts her legs and Bucky smiles up at her.

He grabs her waist,  hoisting her knees over his shoulders, pressing her back against the wall. 

She lets out gaspy whines when he kisses and nips at her thighs, letting his stubble rub against the sensitive skin.

“Bucky,” she whimpers “we- we’re going to waste water.”

“Don’t worry about that, doll.” He murmurs. “Just let me make you feel good.” 

He licks a stripe up her folds, causing her to gasp. She grabs onto his hair, pulling him closer. 

“So sweet, baby. You taste so sweet.” 

She doesn’t reply. She couldn’t. Not when he was making her feel so good. 

She slaps her other hand onto the wall, trying to hold herself up. Bucky tightens his grip on her and leans in closer, continuously licking into her, making her head spin. 

She tries to say something, tell him she’s close, tell him she’s going to cum quicker than she thought, but the only sounds that leave her mouth are breathy moans. 

When he pulls away, she whines. He gives her a cocky grin. 

“Wanna cum?”

She vigorously nods her head. 

“That’s a shame.” He lets go of her legs, almost dropping her onto the tile, and wraps an arm around her waist to keep her steady. “We’ve got a big day ahead.” His tone is teasing, almost mean. “I’ll let you cum later.” 

She’s left on the edge, and she’s angry. No, not angry. Frustrated. Frustrated and desperate. 

“You’re mean.” She grumbles, shutting off the water. 

“If you give me attitude, I won’t let you cum at all.” He chuckles. 

She pushes him away and wraps a towel around her body. 

“I don’t need you to cum anyways.” She grumbles under her breath. 

As she walks away, he grabs her by the back of her neck and pulls her into his chest.

“If I were you,” He lowers his lips to her ear, “I’d behave. Now,” he releases his grip and gives her ass a smack. “Get dressed, we’ve got a lot to do today.” 

She digs through her duffel to find a simple red jumpsuit. The neckline is low enough to be teasing, but it had enough support and pockets to be practical. 

“Sounds like someone had a good morning.”

She turns around, a big grin stretching across her face when she sees Sam. 

“Sam! Good morning!” She cheers. 

“No need to good morning me when I woke up to the sound of fucking.” he grumbles, annoyance in his voice. 

She chuckles as she buttons the front of her jumpsuit. 

“So, Bucky tells me we have a lot going on today. What’s on the itinerary?”

“Hopefully, we can track down Karli and convince her to stop. At least that’s my plan.” 

“Sounds good.” 

He grabs his jacket from the chair. “I’m headed out to get something to eat. Do you want anything?” 

“I’m okay.” She smiles at him. “Thanks for asking.” 

Sam reaches the door and turns around. 

“One more thing, you’ve got a great voice.”

“Was I that loud or did no one sleep at all last night?”

Sam chuckles. 

“I think after the past few days, it’s hard for anyone to get a good night's sleep.” He looks down, fiddling with his fingers. “What you did… what you did for Bucky in Madripoor, when we were undercover…”

“What did I do?” She asks curiously. 

“When Zemo had him go all Winter Soldier, you fought alongside him, you got to that first guy before Bucky did.”

Angel is quiet. She says nothing, looking down at her hands and picking at her cuticles. 

“He might not say this to your face, but I’ve been around him long enough to know that he’s thankful. And so am I.”

She doesn’t know what to say. What would she even say?

“I can see now why he likes calling you Angel.” 

With that, the door closes. 

She walks over to the kitchen, looking through the cabinets. The shelves were fairly empty, mostly just tins of cookies and candy, and a box of cherry blossom tea. She huffs in frustration when her fingers brush over the tin of candy, barely moving it. 

“Need some help, doll?” 

Bucky grabs the tin and places it on the counter.

Her frustration is reignited at the sight of him in a tight, black t-shirt. She wants him to bend her over, fuck her until she sobs.

But she knows he won’t give her that.

Before she can grab it, Bucky holds it above his head. 

“You’re evil.” She mutters. “Come on, give me it.”

“Nope!” He smirks. 

“Go fu-“

She yelps when Bucky loops his thumb through the belt loop of her jumpsuit and pulls her close to him. 

“Remember what I told you? Watch your language.” 

“Give me the candy or you’re not getting head for a week.”

Bucky’s eyes widen and he hands her the box. 

“Thank you.” 

She presses a kiss to his nose and walks away with the box. 

She knows what Bucky’s doing. He’s riling her up, teasing her. 

But two can play that game. 

She sits up on the counter and opens the tin. 

Turkish Delight. Candy she used to eat as a child. 

He’s staring at her. She can feel it. Her fingers pluck a candy from the box and hold it up. 

“Want one?”

Bucky walks over to her and wedges himself between her thighs. 

“Sure.” 

She unwraps the candy and places a finger on his chin, beckoning him to open his mouth.

Her fingers place the treat on his tongue.

“Sweet, isn’t it?”

He kisses her and she can taste the sugar on his lips. 

“Almost as sweet as you.”

She grabs another and hops off of the counter, humored by Bucky’s frustrated look. 

“Sam probably wants everyone ready by the time he gets back. So, I don’t know.” She eyes him up and down, ready to drool at the sight of his arms. “Get dressed.”

“Oh doll, I’m already dressed.” He chuckles. 

“Good. Then help me out.” Her fingers deftly unbutton the top of her jumpsuit, exposing her black sports bra. She reaches for her harness and shoves it in Bucky’s hands. “Buckle me in.”

… 

Sex was the last thing on her mind when she’s face to face with the new Captain America. 

“Karli Morganthau is too dangerous for you to be pulling this shit.” He yells. 

Angel rolls her eyes at the sight of John Walker. 

“How’d you find us now?” Bucky replies, voice full of annoyance.

“You think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” 

Angel’s seen his face in the news. Lemar, the better of America’s new dynamic duo. 

“No more keeping us in the dark, and you can tell us why you broke him” John points to Zemo “out of prison.”

“He did that himself, technically.” Bucky answers. 

“That is an unbelievable explanation! And who the hell are you?” He points to Angel. 

“I’m a friend.” She grumbles, eyes narrowed. 

“You have no business being here. And whatever you’re wearing, all you’re going to do is draw attention.”

“And your little Mr. America getup isn’t?”

“Why don’t you go back to working in European intelligence or whatever it is you do.”

“You better watch your mouth, Mr. Walker.” She snarls. “Is that really how you speak to a lady?” 

“I know where Karli is.” Zemo interrupts their feud.

“Well, where?” 

“All we know is,” Sam answers, “It’s a memorial. We’ll intercept her there.” 

“That means civilians, high risk of casualties.” Lemar states.

“Alright good.” John schemes. “We’ll move in fast, take her by surprise.” 

“Not a good idea, John.” Angel retorts. He halts in his steps and turns to her.

“You have no clue what you’re getting yourself into. This is an American situation.” 

She leans in until she’s staring into his eyes. Rage broils inside of her. 

“Let me tell you something John, I don’t care about your medals of honor. I don’t care that you’re wearing that red and blue suit. So I’ll tell you this once, and only once. If you dare speak to me like this again, I won’t hesitate to-“ 

Bucky pulls her back, giving her a stern look. 

“Hey,” he rubs her shoulder, trying to settle her anger. “He’s not worth it.”

“Oh, so she’s your little girlfriend huh?” 

Angel presses the tip of her knife against his chin and backs him into a wall.

“You stay out of Bucky’s business.” She seethes. 

“Hey, hey, hey!”

This time, both Sam and Bucky had to pull her away, but she keeps her murderous glare trained on him.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes. Keep your little psycho under control.” John spits. 

“Hey, don’t speak to her like that,” Sam demands. “Just because you don’t know her doesn’t give you an excuse to be rude.” 

“Either you show her some respect,” Bucky says “or all of the help we have to offer is off of the table.” 

Sam nods in agreement and eventually so does Zemo, who adds a small shrug. 

“I wasn't actually going to kill him.” She mutters under her breath.

“We know.” Sam pulls her into a side hug. He directs his words back to John. “I want to talk to her alone.”

“I’m not losing her again.” 

“Look, the person closest to her died. She’s vulnerable. If there’s any time to reason with her, it’s now.” 

“What?” John halts in his steps. “No, wait stop. We are way past reasoning with her.” 

“Sam,” Lemar states. “If you walk in there cold, you could die.”

“But if you walk in guns blazing, you could have the blood of hundreds of civilians on your hands.” Angel folds her arms. “Besides, if things go wrong, I’m trained in mixed martial arts.”

“You think a black belt will save you from  a super-soldier?” 

Angel snorts. 

“It has before.”

Bucky looks down and stifles a laugh. 

“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay?” Sam argues with John. “This is in my wheelhouse.”

They’re all silent, staring daggers at each other. 

“John,” Lemar breaks the silence “If he can talk her down, it might be worth a try.” He gives Angel a kind smile. “And I think we give this girl a chance to show us what she’s got.”

“Thank you.” She smiles back. 

“I’m sure this can all come to an agreeable conclusion.” Zemo points forward. “My associate is just up ahead.” 

They watch as Zemo approaches a young girl, handing her some money. She beckons them to follow her down a cobblestone path, into a building, and through the boiler room. 

“You’ve got ten minutes,” John states while handcuffing Zemo to a pipe. “Then we’re doing things my way.”

While they wait, Angel spends her time playing with her butterfly knife, spinning the handle around her fingers.

“How do you not cut yourself doing that?” Lemar asks. 

She spins the knife closed. 

“I have before, it’s just about practice and being careful. Here, I’ll show you.” 

Bucky observes Angel showing off her knife tricks to Lemar. 

Despite the stressful situation, he still felt a pang of possessiveness. She was his Angel. He gave her that name and when she said she’d accepted it. In a way, she was his and he was hers. 

“What’s your name? I don’t think you’ve ever told me.” 

He hears Lemar ask.

Angel giggles.

“It’s Artemis. Like the goddess.”

Artemis. It’s fitting, Bucky thinks. The goddess of the hunt.

“That’s really cool. Let me guess, your parents were huge mythology fans?”

“You can say that.” She chuckles.

His eyes narrow when she smiles at Lemar. 

Their conversation continues and Bucky’s jealousy burns brighter when she places her fingers on the fabric of Lemar’s suit, giving him a comment on how she’s got an eye for fashion and how nice the fabric was. From his position by the door, he sees her turn to him and give him a wink. 

Bucky scowls. That little minx.

John crosses his arms and stares daggers into her.

“What exactly do you do, anyway?” He scoffs. “Are you some kind of spy?”

Angel raises a brow. 

“I’m not a spy. I’m just a problem solver.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” John shakes his head and secures the shield on his arm. “Nevermind. I’m going in.” 

“Oh, come on John, it’s only been eight minutes.” 

“No. Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.” 

“I’m not-” Angel sighs and turns away, focusing her attention on pulling her hair back.

Bucky stops him before John can get through the doorway. 

“It must be so easy for you.” John’s voice is full of malice. “All that serum running through your veins. Barnes, your partner needs backup. Do you really want his blood on your hands?” 

Bucky can see Angel slowly shake her head, telling him not to give in to John’s words. But he can’t. He’s already done so much harm. He’s responsible for the deaths of so many people, he can’t let Sam become another. 

So, he lets John walk past him, Lemar following along. 

Angel runs up to him. 

“Bucky, why’d you do that?” 

“I can’t… I can’t risk it. I can’t risk losing him.” 

She sighs and places a gentle hand on his cheek. 

“I understand.” Her lips land a gentle kiss on his nose. “But don’t let his words get to you. Now,” She grins and lightly smacks his ass. “Go make sure he doesn’t kill anyone.” 

With one final kiss, Bucky runs off. 

She turns around to see the handcuffs dangling from the pole. Her blood runs cold. Zemo escaped and who knows what he’ll do.

She runs through the halls, boots quietly slapping on the concrete floors. From her left, she hears a series of loud gunshots and crunching glass. 

Her feet lightly tread next to the walls, ears picking up every little sound. 

She jumps, heartbeat pounding when the thump of a body falling to the ground meets her ears. 

Did Zemo kill someone? Was it Karli? Another Flag-Smasher? 

She runs through the door closest to her. From behind a table, she spots John staring at a small vial. A small vial of the serum. Before she can say anything, he runs away. 

As she quietly walks into the room, she spots Zemo, lying on the ground, unconscious. No one else was here. 

She crouches down next to him and gently shakes his shoulder. 

“Baron? Zemo? Come on, wake up.” 

He doesn’t move. 

She picks up his wrist, pressing her pointer and middle fingers on the vein. A sigh of relief passes her lips at the feeling of a pulse. 

Her hands shake his shoulder again, this time, with more vigor. 

“Zemo!” She shouts.

His eyes snap open and he groans in pain. 

“You passed out Baron.”

“I’m aware.” He grumbles. “John Walker threw the shield at me.” 

“Of course he did.”

She offers him a hand and helps him stand up. 

“Can you walk?” She asks. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”

The two make their way through the city until they reach Zemo’s apartment. Sam was already there, typing away on his computer. 

Angel wets a towel in the kitchen and hands it to Zemo.

“Go, lie down. Put this over your eyes.” 

She walks down the hall towards Bucky’s room. With a tired sigh, she removes her shoes, jumpsuit, and harness.

Her eyes close as she lies on the bed in her underwear. The sports bra felt much too tight but she didn’t care. She was tired. Her morning sexual frustration had caught up to her but she didn’t feel like doing anything about it.

Even though it was only seven in the evening, she just wanted to sleep.

Right when she’s drifting off to sleep, the slam of the bedroom door jolts her awake. 

Bucky is standing in front of her, arms crossed, eyes filled with rage.

“Get off the bed.” He snarls. 

She laughs and rolls over onto her stomach. 

“No. If sex is what you want, let’s do it on the bed.”

She hears a sigh behind her and her eyes widen when she feels Bucky’s hands wrap around her ankles. 

“Buck, what are you-”

Her words come to a halt when he pulls her off of the bed and onto her knees. 

“You wanted me to fuck you?” He seethes. “Fuck you rough until you can’t speak?”

“That was the plan.” She smirks. 

He twists a hand in her hair and pulls her head back. Her breath is shallow as she looks up, meeting Bucky’s angry eyes. 

He’s mad. At the entire Karli situation, and maybe with her. But his anger towards her, she assumes, is fiery, lustful anger. Anger that she can have a lot of fun with. 

“If you had let me cum earlier,” She snaps, “ maybe I wouldn’t have been such a brat.”

She rubs her thighs together, trying to alleviate the arousal burning through her. A whine leaves her lips when he kicks her legs apart. 

He tightens his grip on her hair.

“You really need to learn some respect.”

Bucky places the toe of his boot on her back and pushes her face down onto the floor. She doesn’t resist, giving in to his dominance. 

“Aww, look at you,” he mocks, “You were so bold earlier, my Angel. Where did that fire go?”

Her heart swells. He’s no longer calling her Angel. He’s called her his Angel. She was his. 

Footsteps echo around her and she takes a shaky breath when his black boots come into view. 

“Look at me, doll. I wanna see those pretty eyes.”

His voice is commanding, authoritative. It drew her in, made her head spin.

She looks up at him with wide eyes as he bends down on a knee.

“Were you trying to rile me up? Trying to make me angry?” 

She nods.

Bucky roughly grabs her chin, cold metal digging into her cheeks.

“Use your words.”

“Y-yes Sergeant.” She squeaks.

He stares down at her, anger and lust in his eyes. 

“Open your mouth.” 

Her lips part and Bucky spits, letting his saliva pool on her tongue. 

His fingers press on her chin, closing her mouth. She swallows, heat burning in her tummy. 

“So now, you want to be a good girl, huh?” 

He picks her up by her neck and shoves her face into the soft mattress. His fingers loop around the elastic waistband of her panties and pull, the fabric digging into her cunt. 

“Yes, I’m your good girl.” She whines. “I’ll be good. Promise.” 

He leans in close, his warm breath brushing over her ear. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

He rears his metal hand against her ass, leaving a red handprint of her skin. 

A choked breath leaves her lips. She relishes in the pain and gives him a cocky smile.

“Is that all you got Sarge?” 

He lands another hard smack, this time on her thigh. A whimper escapes her lips.

“Oh, you’re really asking for it, aren’t you?” 

He shifts his hand on her neck, wrapping it around the front of her neck. She squeezes at the sides, slowing the circulation of blood to her head. 

She opens her mouth to speak, but the hand on her throat stops the words from leaving her lips. 

The clinking of his belt buckle sends a wave of lust through her. 

She was finally getting what she wanted.

His hand on her neck is released and she takes in a sharp breath.  

He pulls her panties down her legs and throws them to the side. 

She gasps at the feeling of cold metal rubbing between her folds. Her fingers dig into the sheets, grabbing at the fabric. 

“You’re practically dripping.” He muses, “Who knew you were such a masochist?” 

“Only for you.” She keens. 

“Only for me? Not for anyone else?”

“Yes! Yes! Only you!”

Bucky hums and lands another smack on her ass. She yelps and tears threaten to spill from her eyes. 

He shoves two fingers inside of her and she gasps at the cool feeling of the metal. 

She squirms around as he twists his fingers, pressing against that spot inside of her.

Hunger swarms her brain. She wanted, no, needed more. 

What he’s doing is sadistic, she thinks. Constantly bringing her to the edge, but never letting her tip over. 

He lets his thumb press against her clit and the tears she’s been trying to hold back spill over. She lets out a quiet sob into the sheets but Bucky doesn’t stop his movements. 

“I need more.” She quietly whimpers. 

“You think you have the right to beg?” He asks nonchalantly. “After that little show?” 

“I’m sorry.” She cries. 

Her eyes squeeze shut and she turns her head, letting her cheek rest on the bedsheets. When she glances up, she can see Bucky’s amused smirk. 

She feels the tip of his cock pressing against her entrance and she holds her breath. 

“Oh doll,” he coos, thumbing away her tears, “You’re so pretty when you cry.” 

A sudden thrust of his hips buries his cock inside of her. Bucky clamps his hand over her lips, muffling her desperate cries. 

“Shh, shh,” He whispers gently. “It’s okay, love. Be a good girl and take it.” 

He starts moving, his hips slowly thrusting into her. The fire inside of her burns, hotter and hotter. Her head is reeling as she feels herself come closer to her impending orgasm. Despite how rough he is with her, she feels safe. Safe with him. She feels safe enough to fall into submission, open and pliant for him. 

Her sobs against his hand become louder, more intense and he bends down to nip at her neck.

“Are you gonna cum, angel? Cum all over my cock?” 

She nods, eyes squeezed shut. 

“Do you think you deserve it?” He asks.

“No,” she mumbles against his hand. “But I want to.”

He brushes his fingers down the length of her back and she shivers. 

“You wanna cum, doll? Ask nicely.” 

He releases his hand and grabs her hip, pulling her deeper onto his cock. 

“Please.” She gasps. “Please, let me cum!” 

“You have to do better than that.”

“Please, I’ll be so good for you! I’ll never flirt with anyone again! Just please! Please, I wanna cum.” 

He picks up his pace, and she finds it harder to stave off her orgasm. 

“So polite.” He hums, “But not yet.”

She lets out a pathetic sob.

“Please.” She whimpers. 

“Be patient. You’ll get to cum soon.” 

Her breaths are shallow as she tries to keep herself from cumming. She bites down on her lower lip but the pain does little to help.

Relief washes over her when Bucky speaks again.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me. Come on angel, cum for me.” 

Her teeth bite down on the sheets as she’s hurtles over the edge, her orgasm sending shockwaves through her body. 

As her chest heaves and her mind becomes foggy, she can barely feel Bucky pull out and releases him cum on her back. 

She lies there, upper half sprawled over the mattress, a dopey smile on her face. A hum of pleasure slips past her lips when Bucky wipes his cum away with a warm washcloth. 

“You okay, doll?” He asks. 

She nods her head. 

The bed shifts as he sits on the bed and pulls her towards him. 

“Come on,” He lies down and pulls her close to him. He noses at the back of her shoulder. “Get some rest.” 

The sun was about to set, bathing their bodies in a golden glow. He runs his metal fingers over her bicep, cooling down her heated skin. 

She’s tired, so tired. Yet she’s happy. The first time in a long time that she’s actually felt happy. 

“Bucky?” She asks in a fucked out daze.

“Yes my angel?” 

A moment of silence passes. 

“You’re the only one who’s made me feel human.”

...

Once again, tysm @sojournmichael for reading over my little snippets of writing!

[zukosdumbbitch]

friction

work on ao3

pairing: jet/f reader

warnings: smut, arguing

wordcount: 1873

a/n: im srry but i needed to get this Out of my brain. characters are 18+

-

It was just at the crack of dusk and you were tidying up the room you shared with Jet in the freedom fighters’ scattered treehouse. You were Jet’s age, the two of you barely functioning adults, stubborn, opinionated, and to Jet, devastatingly alluring. He loved the clashing of your personalities, the way you so often disagreed with him and kept him on his toes. He loved his absolute authority in the group, but more than that, he loved a pretty girl deliberately challenging it.

You didn’t mind the arguments as much as you maybe should have. You saw through manipulation like sunlight through a clean window - clearly, immediately, and without doubt. Jet knew better than to mess with your head. And you knew he had a real soft spot for you - despite how much he’d try to hide it around others. You really liked him, even if he was a real pain in the ass sometimes.

Today was one of many designated days Jet and his favorite group of fighters would scout your woods and the neighboring areas. They would come back with food, that they stole, hunted, or plucked from wild plants, or with news about strangers arriving in the area and discussion of whether or not they were a threat. Jet would often return late, having taken it upon himself to do one last sweep of your unofficial territory. Normally you would join him, but you had stayed back to help the younger orphans patch up their clothes or whatever toys they managed to keep.

You carefully put your sewing kit back together, counting all the needles and neatly winding the thread. You closed the small wooden box and noticed a figure appear in your peripherals.

“Hey, baby.” You heard Jet say and you turned to see him leaning in your makeshift doorway, curtain draped behind him.

You went to embrace him and his hands came to rest on your waist. “Any good finds today?” You asked.

“Yeah, Longshot got a nice rabbit. Shot it right in the eye.” Jet pointed to his eye and you made a face. You hated killing animals, but their meat was good food and their fur provided material for blankets and clothes. Jet’s ever present smirk widened teasingly at your reaction. “He’s preparing it with Smellerbee. We’ll have a good breakfast tomorrow. Plus, I got you something.”

You looked at him curiously and he pulled out a glittery silver chain from the pouch hanging on his hip. Hung from it was a round, honey-orange stone with a simple lily carved into its surface, similar to the pai sho tile. “Oooh,” You cooed, taking the necklace into your hands and feeling the smooth stone. “It’s beautiful. Where’d you get this?” You contemplated the material of the stone. Was it amber? Carnelian?

Jet stiffened and said nothing. He found it hard to lie to you. Of course.

“You didn’t jump another innocent person did you?” You asked, desperate for him to say no.

His brows furrowed.

“Jet!” You scolded and he snatched the jewelry from your grasp.

“Smellerbee was right. Shouldn’t have given it to you.” He said bitterly, shouldering past you into the room.

“You can’t keep doing that to people! Did you take all their money and food again? Did you at least let them go without beating them senseless?” You prodded. Your anger boiled in your voice, remembering all the times he returned with food stolen from nomads and the other times that ended in violent confrontation.

“I don’t know why you have to get so upset! They could have been a Fire Nation spy for all you know!” Jet shot back, arms raised.

“Not everyone is a fucking Fire Nation spy, Jet!”

“Yeah, because you would totally know one if you saw one. I very clearly remember having to save your ass after getting kidnapped by a soldier!” He stepped closer, towering over you.

You, however, would not back down. “That doesn’t mean you need to beat up and rob every stranger you see! What is wrong with you?”

“I am trying to protect these kids!” Jet shouted, nostrils flaring.

You were red with anger from his lack of empathy. “At the expense of literally everyone else?” You hollered back.

Suddenly, Jet grabbed your face and smashed his lips to yours. Your fingers knotted into his dark hair. It wasn’t uncommon for your arguments to end like this. It was your way of forgiving one another.

Jet pulled away, teeth pinching your bottom lip and pulling. “You’re the worst.” You groaned and Jet pushed you down to the bed.

“You’re so god damn annoying.” He responded as his lips chased yours and he pulled you in for another searing kiss.

His hands wandered down your backside, grabbing your ass and kneading the soft flesh. You hissed against his lips, hands fumbling with the closure on his pants and untucking his shirt. His tongue lined your mouth, making you shiver as you pushed the makeshift armor from his clothes. He gave your ass a hard smack and you yelped in surprise.

“Why does everything have to be a problem with you?” Jet gruffed against your lips.

“You cause problems, Jet!”

He growled into your jaw and pushed you unto your back. He pushed your knees apart so he could press himself close to you, hips digging into yours. You groaned, tugging on his hair as his lips traced your jaw. His teeth dug into your neck in a hard bite and sucked at your skin, only moving along once he saw deep purple gathering in the indents of his teeth. You squirmed when he found your soft spot, thighs rubbing uncomfortably against his sides and you rolled your hips back against his. Jet was relentless, marking up your neck and collarbones and you impatiently tugged at his shirt and whined.

Jet leaned back on his heels and discarded his shirt and wrist wrappings. You pulled your own shirt over your head and rid of the binder confining your breasts and Jet was upon you once again. He palmed your breasts and his lips trailed down your body. He tugged at your pants and you heard the button snap off.

“You need to stop fucking tearing my clothes!” You seethed.

Jet responded by silencing you with a harsh kiss. He pulled again at your pants and you pushed them down along with your underwear as far as your position would allow. Jet sat up and tore the rest of your clothes from your body and began to make work of his own. You watched him, taking in the lean muscles that rippled under his golden brown skin.

Jet grabbed you under your knees and tugged you forward before taking his erection in his hand and rubbing it across the wetness along your folds. You keened, bucking your hips for more attention and Jet smirked down at you.

“You want it, baby?” He asked, voice husky with lust.

You nodded, grasping his shoulders.

“Beg for it.” Jet commanded.

You groaned. “No.”

Jet growled, smacking your thigh. “Beg or I won’t let you cum for the rest of the month.”

You scoffed at him. “I don’t need you to do that.”

Jet grabbed your face in one hand and pressed his lips back yours in an angry kiss, teeth clashing. He rubbed the tip of his dick slowly against your clit, making your hips roll. “Beg for it.”

“Sounds more like you’re that one that’s begging.” You panted.

Jet grunted in frustration and conceded, slamming into you with one swift thrust of his hips. You mewled loudly and clawed at his shoulders. He gave you no time to catch your breath and held you down by your throat, setting a bruising pace that left your eyes rolling. You hiked your thighs high on his torso and dug your heels into his back.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Jet moaned. He grabbed under your knee and pressed your thigh next to your chest, allowing him to fuck you deeper. You squirmed under his constraint, whining helplessly as that knot built in your belly. You reached down to rub your aching clit, but Jet caught your wrist. “Nah-uh, baby girl. You’re gonna have to get off on just my dick.”

You had no response, the fast pace of his hips making any words you could form catch in your throat. You clenched around him and raked your nails down his back, digging as hard as you could into his skin and eliciting a groan.

Jet suddenly pulled out and spanked you. “On your stomach, baby.”

You rolled over and Jet quickly possessed your hips, pushing back into you without hesitation. If he was brutal before, now he was just ruthless. “Oh fuck!” You cried, moaning into your pillow.

Jet gathered your wrists against your back and plowed into you. Tears brimmed at your eyes with how good he was making you feel and you pressed your hips back against his thrusts with all the strength that was left in you. You were getting close to your orgasm, that knot winding tighter and tighter as your pussy clenched hard around his cock.

You heard Jet let out a deep moan and that was all it took. You trembled, expletives leaving your mouth as Jet fucked you hard through your orgasm. “Fuck yes, baby girl, cum on my cock.” Jet praised and grabbed your ass with both hands. Your newly freed fists knotted into the sheets as you mewled at the overstimulation, thighs quaking and giving out under you.

“So good,” You cooed, Jet grabbing your shoulder to pull you back against him.

You let him continue to slam into your tender g-spot, loving every second of your drawn-out high. Jet swore and pulled out to release on your back.

You allowed yourself to go limp against the bed and Jet fell unto his back beside you. You tried to catch your breath.

Jet grabbed a scrap of cloth from the nightstand and threw it at you.

You rolled your eyes as you took it. “Don’t be fucking rude.” You grumbled, though your words had little bite.

Jet sighed. You both laid in silence for a few moments and you found your canteen and took a swig water.

Jet put out his hand. "Let me get that."

You secured the cap and answered, "No."

Jet looked at you incredulously. You stared back and he began to move toward you. You hid the canteen behind you. "Y/N!" He scolded and you giggled as he grasped at it and you held it from his reach.

"Say you'll stop jumping people for no reason." You insisted.

"Baby girl, I can't promise you anything." He swung at your hand, but you managed to keep him from grabbing it.

You frowned at him. He got a hold of your wrist and despite your protests, he took the canteen. "Dick." You pouted.

Jet took a healthy gulp of water and said, "Y'know, all we did was search him and take that pendant. We didn't hurt him."

"Still shouldn't have taken it."

Jet swung an arm around you and pulled you in to kiss your forehead. "Whatever, baby." 

[bqstqnbruin]

20 with Vince?

20. *walks in* Hey guys. What the- okay. *walks out*

Happy blurb weekend y’all

You were never a fan of your birthday. There was no real reason, it was just a day you would rather spend following your normal monotonous routine rather than making a big fuss about it. You were past the age of major milestones like 13, 16, 18, or 21, so why should you make a big deal out of another day? Vince tried to convince you to do something the last three years you were together, failing to do anything other than letting him take you out to dinner, something he already did frequently since his cooking was awful. This year, he didn’t even bring any plans up, just kissing you good morning and again when you left for work. 

You go through the normal routine, going to work, doing your job, having lunch. After lunch, you find a box on your desk, Vince’s handwriting on the note attached. ‘I know you don’t want to make a big deal, but happy birthday. Love you, Angel - Sunshine.’ You smile at the box, rolling your eyes at the present thinking it was going to be some sort of gag gift. Opening it, you find a gold necklace, the chain purposefully twisted. The charm was an angel, the body a teardrop cut of your birthstone, the head and wings small diamonds. You gasp at the sight of it, putting it on immediately. 

“Wow,” your coworker, Jen says, seeing the jewelry around your neck. “That’s stunning.”

“It’s from Vince, for my birthday.” 

“Wait! Today’s your birthday! Happy birthday, why didn’t I know?” she starts yelling, you desperately trying to shut her down form causing a scene. 

“I never make a big deal about it, Vince I guess just wanted to get me something,” you brush it off, praying that she doesn’t do any more than just wishing you a good day.

Instead, she sits down on your desk, knocking off some of the papers in the process. “What does he have planned for tonight?”

You shrug, picking up the scattered papers, “I’m assuming other than the necklace, nothing.”

“What?” she shrieks, ignoring the shushing that you keep doing. “He’s doing nothing?” 

“I don’t want him to.”

“But it’s your birthday,” she whines.

“It’s just a day.” 

The two of you start bickering, going back and forth about whether or not Vince needed to be doing something for today. You’re interrupted by a delivery person standing over you, a bouquet of your favorite flowers with our name on them. ‘Don’t come home until 5 pm - Sunshine’

“Who’s Sunshine?” Jen asks, reading over your shoulder.

“Vince. Can I please work now? I need something to do until I’m allowed to go home. 

She leaves you at your desk, finally some peace for you to panic over what he could possibly be planning for the night. You weren’t keen on surprises, and knowing Vince, that was exactly what he had planned. 

Close to five, leaving the office, you call Vince. “Whoever is in our home better leave before I get there.”

“I can’t believe you’re kicking me out of our home when I didn’t do anything wrong this time.” 

“Vince,” you whine, getting in your car. 

“Can’t you just trust me?” he asks. You swear you heard someone shush someone else in the background, groaning at the idea of the surprise party he was clearly throwing you. He probably invited his teammates, they would get drunk, and then you would be left cleaning up the next morning before work while Vince stayed in bed hung over. 

“I guess,” you say, “I’m a few minutes away.”

“Love you, Angel,” he says. 

“Love you, Sunshine.” 

You pull up to your home, Sammy’s car parked a little bit down the street, Jen’s not far behind his. Both of them had to be there. This was a surprise party. It had to be. Vince was so bad at planning things well that he couldn’t even plan a simple surprise party without you figuring it out from the slightest tip. You gather your stuff from your back seat, going up. You take a deep breath, unlocking the door. “Hey, Vince,” you say, only to be interrupted by some of yours and Vince’s friends yelling surprise, Vince appearing sheepishly from behind the door. “What the- okay,” you say, turning around to leave.

“No, no, no, come on. It’s small,” Vince says, taking your stuff from you and bringing you back inside. “It’s the people you care about the most, and all we’re doing is eating dinner together. Please stay?” he pouts, his lip sticking out as he wraps his arms around your waist, “You deserve one night where everyone you love celebrates you.” 

You sigh, looking at your closest friends standing in the living room, glasses of wine in everyone’s hand, the most incredible smell coming from the kitchen which told you Vince ordered dinner from somewhere he probably knows you love. “Fine,” you say, him pressing a kiss to your cheek, “This is the only birthday you’re allowed to do this for, though.”

“Works for me!” he says, leading you to the table that was covered in your favorite foods. Your friends had all brought small presents, Jen buying you your favorite wine because Vince apparently didn’t think to tell her about the party until earlier that day, after your conversation at your desk, Sammy got you a shirsy they had Blais written on the back to spite Vince, along with a gift card so you and Vince could have dinner at your favorite restaurant, John getting you a signed copy of one of Chrissy Teigen’s cookbook, Natalie got you tickets to see the Cardinals play the Yankees, your favorite team against the team that your dad’s family loved. 

Last was Vince, even though he already bought you flowers and the necklace, he slid one last box in front of you. A small, velvet box that held a diamond ring, the diamond bigger than the ones in the necklace. “What is this?” 

“I wanted a way to make your birthday a little more enjoyable, so what better way than asking you to marry me in front of those who loved you most.” 

“You’re proposing?” you ask, completely shocked.

“I thought I was the dumb one,” he laughs, earning a swat on the hand from you while he holds up the ring in front of you, “What do you say?”

“Of course,” you tell him, your friends screaming as Vince slides the ring on your finger.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Klaus Hargreeves x Powered Reader

-Watch and Learn-

Warnings: buffoonery ensues, fun times

This gif is beautiful and represents the reader v well.

Masterlist

Do you realize shoplifting is bad, yes. Are you about to do it on a dare, also yes. You see, Klaus has been up to no good recently, you put it up to his desperation for your complete and undivided attention.

For about a month you were over in Australia visiting an old friend, and your poor Klaus was left all alone to fend for himself, for 30 whole days. You were honestly surprised that your apartment didn’t burn down, or look incredibly trashed with random street cats walking around it.

Amazingly enough, everything was intact, but oh man did Klaus miss you. For the first day he wouldn’t even leave your side. The two of you laying on the couch and Klaus couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Not that you minded, he was needy and very handsy that night. So let’s just say, no movie watching was happening.

But back to your current situation, here you are outside a high end clothing store, and you’ve never been more ready in your whole life.

“Remember the goal Y/N, some shiny bracelets, sunglasses, a pricy pricy shirt, and something special for, muah.” Klaus purred sweetly in your ear trying to throw you off, but you remain unflinching and determined.

“Piece of cake, this will be a record haul.” You tell him with a mischievous smirk as he grins back at you.

The two of you casually walk into the store, you’ve put on your long blonde wig and dark sunglasses to better conceal your identity if things did in fact go south. Klaus didn’t try much to disguise himself as he walked in looking like some carefree wanderer, but then again, he’s the distraction.

He walks to the nearest group of employees and begins an over dramatic display of fascination for a certain hat that is laying a top a mannequins head. You make a beeline for the jewelry, finding your prize and nonchalantly sliding them into your inner jacket pocket. Easy money. Next you practically glide over to the sunglasses, looks around you before snatching your favorite pair, ripping off the tag and placing them casually into your coats inner pocket. Yours now.

You scan the store for the shirt isle, easily enough your eyes land down an isle to your left where you let out muffled snort. Klaus now has dark glassed Harry Potter looking specs as well as a fancy cowboy type hat. All in all he looks relatively good, like a sexy desert traveler who’s about to steal some hearts. A smile forms onto your face as you briefly watch him keep up his dramatic act of being the best shoplifting distraction you could have asked for.

Turning back to the pricy isle of shirts that altogether probably cost more then your car, well that is if you actually payed for it. You continue forward, your eyes scanning over the silk and leather fabrics, over ones encrusted with jewels and animal fur that you’re hoping is just fux fur. Your keen eyesight finally stills onto a gorgeous Gucci sweater that practically screams take me. You glance up and find where the nearest security cameras are, spotting them, you pull your attention back to the task at hand. You run your hands down the sleeves and swiftly tug, the sweater comes off the rack and makes a quick descent towards the polished tiled ground.

As sly as a fox you kneel onto the tiled floor, picking it up and sliding it into your coat where it’s completely hidden from any prying eyes that might not be minding their own business. With a smirk you stand up, taking the empty rack and calmly sliding on a new sweater that you found at the local thrift store, that’s been patiently waiting for its next clothing rack. You turn down the isle watching Klaus sweet talk an employee who seems to be under his little spell. You can’t help it when your jaw clenches in subconscious jealousy, you know it’s all for show but still, only you get that adorable smile and emerald eyes that at least they can’t see due to his current fashion statement.

Shaking those thoughts away, you ground yourself again to what you and Klaus actually came here for. Now to find something special for your man, scanning over the brightly lit store your eyes widen in excitement at the beautiful jewel encrusted golden snake necklace that only queens of Egypt should be allowed to possess. You coolly walk over to the necklace, your nerves racing in a bustle of excitement as you make it to the glass case that surrounds it. You shift your eyes once to the left and then once to the right, surveying the area for any intruders. No ones in the nearest proximity due to Klaus’ amazing ability to draw in a crowd practically anywhere.

“Oh and look at you, Klaus is gonna love you, not as much as me but hmm you are one beautiful snake.” You whisper to the glimmering metal hiding behind the stores attempt at a security precaution. Reaching out your hand you simply use your power and defy the laws of what humans should be able to do. Your hand phases through the see through glass where you promptly pick up the dazzling trinkets made for royalty. You silently stick it into your bra and turn around, making your way down the isle and towards Klaus and his crowd of high end retail workers.

You walk past him and give him a wink, he takes the subtle hint, says his goodbyes and trails after you towards the doors. You slow down your pace so he can catch up, a sudden arm slings over your shoulders as he kisses the side of your cheek.

“My dear you would not believe what a bunch of kiss-asses those guys are. Enough to match Luther honestly.”

“Well you seemed to be handling them just fine from what I could see.”

“Huh yeah, they thought my tattoos where interesting.”

“They did, didn’t they.”

“Ohhh were you...were you, gettin a lil jealous Y/N?”

“What? Jealous of a couple of blonde bimbos, you need your eyes checked babe.” Klaus lets out a laugh as he opens the stores door for you. You avoid eye contact, your frustration slowly building until he reaches for your open hand. The contact and the way that he leans into your side instantly calming your agitation once again.

“Alright fine. That was admittedly mean and unnecessary, and yeah okay I was a tad bit jealous...but come on Klaus. You make me feel things.”

“Aww Y/N you’re so cute, my little thief. So watcha get?”

“Oh some of this some of that. I’ll show you when we get back to the apartment. I’m gonna have to come back later and destroy the security footage.”

“Oh right, that silly thing those pricey stores like to do. Security cameras.”

“Ruining fun for burglers since they were invented by some paranoid prick.”

“Eh they have their uses.” Suddenly his attention snaps over to a hotdog vendor further down the sidewalk, “Oh hey, you want a street sausage...and I’m not talking about mine..ah Jesus Y/N I was kidding don’t hit me.”

“Klaus.”

“You have a strong arm. It was a serious question before you assaulted me.”

“Babe we have stuff that’s worth more then the building we live in. We should just go home, we have leftover Thai in the fridge.” Klaus abruptly halts the both of you, shifting your body so he can rest his hands on either side of your shoulders as he looks deeply into your eyes, his face shifting into a pleading expression.

“But my tum tum is grumbling...listen to it Y/N...it says feed me or I’ll die of hunger.”

“Wow I didn’t realize you could speak stomach. Klaus you are truly full of surprises.” You deadpan with lack of facial movement but a low sigh coming from your parted lips.

“Do not antagonize me woman this is serious.” He gives you the biggest and most adorable puppy eyes, trying with all of his might to sway you to the dark side. You roll your eyes as a smirk tugs at the corner of your lips. His eyes go wide in excitement, knowing he’s won you over with his usual Klaus charm.

“My lovely lady, you are a gem among the city sewage.”

“Thanks Klaus. You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

“That’s what I do babes.” Replies Klaus with a quick kiss to your lips before he drags you over to the vendor, that admittedly smells quit delicious if you’re being honest. He orders a simple dog for the both of you, actually paying for it himself to your great astonishment. Then he slathers his in toppings as you select a few of your own, then it’s through the city park to reach your apartment. The two of you and your concealed stolen goods, walking casually down the parks walking trail as you both happily munch on your hotdogs.

“Maybe I have too much on mine.” You have a look at Klaus who’s face is smeared with ketchup and mustard as he fumbles with is already messy napkin while you take another bite from your own hotdog in an attempt at concealing your laughter. “Seriously Y/N, it’s all over my face now, I’m a mess.”

“That’s what she said.”

“Ben don’t laugh..” Whines Klaus with a pout as he glances over at you who’s definitely losing your shit. “Okay fine, it was pretty funny.”

“You walked right into it. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Well Ben’s about to pee himself if you’d like to know so good job at that.”

“Thank you thank you I’ll be here all night.” You bow to no one in particular as Klaus finishes off the last bit of his hotdog. You hand him your napkin as you throw your dirty ones in the nearby trash can. Klaus doing the same, now looking much less of a mess, both on his face and hands. He swiftly catches up to you and practically throws himself onto you. You stagger to the side as his full weight begins dragging you downward towards the wet pavement, oh no you are not about to have his lanky ass get you all dirty. As a witches cackle escapes from your mouth you use your phasing abilities and a second later your idiot boyfriend has fallen onto the cold cement. He lets out a yelp as his hands reach out to catch his fall, he does a little tumble before sitting on the ground, a annoyed huff leaving his lips.

“Eww Y/N I was in you.” Whines Klaus as he picks himself up once again, you cross your arms and bite your lip in amusement.

“You didn’t think so this morning.”

“That was very different.”

“Yeah well your fatass was about to send me into the dirt. I happen to like this coat and would prefer to keep it looking snazzy.”

“Your snazzy can kiss my buns, I’m going home and then I can be in you...but not in that way.” He quickly adds as he reaches out for your hand, you gladly accept his appealing invitation and just like that the two of you make your way out of the park and towards the apartment building where some fun times await.

[psychosistr]

Green-Eyed Monsters- Chapter 2

Summary: Dominic and Steelbeak successfully sneak into the soiree and identify their target, but personal feelings and a pair of lovely ladies from SHUSH might throw a wrench into their plans.

Notes: Behold, the first OC’s outside of Domino to be featured in this series- @starlightmoth ‘s SHUSH OC Xaviera, and my double-agent OC Maravilla! These two are very sweet together and I was super excited to include them, so I hope you guys will enjoy them too x3 Also, I slipped a few references to my previous stories in this chapter- see if you can guess them before reaching the end ;3

-First Chapter-

Steelbeak’s flashy gold-painted Lincoln Continental drove up the winding driveway leading to the duo’s destination for the evening. In any other situation, the car would stand out like a purebred show-dog at a junkyard. For tonight, however, it was just another gaudy and over-decorated transport lining the absurdly long path to a building larger and more brightly lit than any skyscraper in Saint Canard could ever HOPE to be.

Choosing to park his car rather than leave it in the hands of the valet (no one touched that car without his permission- forget about actually driving it), Steelbeak pulled into a parking space further away from the main driveway but closer to the back entrance. The location would make it easier to sneak in and out unnoticed, though it would also be a more suspicious location if security noticed the vehicle; they’d have to get in and out as quickly as possible.

When they exited the vehicle, the chief officer and his partner were dressed in outfits far different from their usual attire: Dominic had left behind his iconic coat and hat, instead donning a simple white button up shirt with a turn down collar beneath a more elaborate black tailcoat with thin vertical white stripes, black buttons, and bright red lapels with a matching red boater flat top hat that had a white hat band with a black buckle, giving it the vague semblance of a domino- the whole outfit accessorized simply with a dark red tie, a domino-shaped tie pin, and a black diamond-studded Crowlex hidden beneath the cuff of his sleeve. Never one to be outdone by his partner, Steelbeak had also left his usual white suit behind in favor of a far more expensive tuxedo featuring a white pleated button up shirt with a turn down collar and clear gemstone-style button studs, a black tuxedo jacket with a shimmering silver shawl collar and another pair of clear gemstone-style buttons, matching black pants, black pleated cummerbund, and a pair of freshly shined black patent leather cap toe shoes- all accessorized with the equally flashy additions of a black pointed-style bowtie, diamond cufflinks, a four-peak folded white silk pocket square, and a shiny silver watch emblazoned with diamonds. While a far cry from their usual style, the high-class suits would do a better job of camouflaging them with the high-society crowd mingling within the walls of their target’s billion dollar mansion.

Their target for the night was the owner of the lavish mansion before them, Emelia Malton- more specifically, they were after a pair of very valuable items that she had on her. According to FOWL’s intel, Emelia’s family was repeatedly ranked as the richest family in the world due to their cumulative net-worth amassed after years of running one of the most successful chain-stores on the planet. Despite her parents passing away a few months ago, the company had flourished under the young heiress and was now celebrating its ranking as the top-grossing chain-store in the world by hosting an extravagant party at her family’s home. Everyone on the guest list was considered the richest and/or most influential in their respective fields of business, so it was the perfect way for the wealthy woman to flaunt her affluence over her peers.

And what better way to do so than to show off her family’s prized possessions- the “Goddess’ Eyes”.

These “eyes” were the deadly duo’s target: A pair of nearly-impossible to acquire naturally green diamonds that could easily be priced at thirty-million dollars each. In addition to being ludicrously valuable, the gemstones were also the perfect conductors for FOWL’s newest thermonuclear based weapon for mass larceny and extortion on a global scale. They needed at least one of the incredibly rare diamonds for the device to function properly- preferably both so they could construct a second if the tests proved fruitful.

The only obstacle to obtaining the jewels was the mansion’s high-ranking security that was efficient enough to give the secret service a run for their money. Most of the time, the mansion’s security was so tight that even an army couldn’t breach their defenses. The only time the security was marginally lowered was for grand events- hence the required presence of the chief officer and his partner at the evening’s soiree.

Tonight would be the only chance for quite some time for FOWL to get their hands on the “Goddess’ Eyes” and they could NOT let it slip away.

With this goal in mind, Dominic and Steelbeak carefully made their way around the house to the garden and back-patio that had been converted into a slightly less-crowded outdoor lounge area for those seeking a reprieve from the bright lights and loud music indoors. Avoiding the cameras and creeping under the windows to avoid detection, the pair of fowls managed to sneak unnoticed into the outdoor crowd before seamlessly slipping through the wide open back doors to join the larger crowd within the mansion’s main ballroom.

Steelbeak gave a low, impressed whistle once they were inside, looking around at the myriad of (likely over-priced) paintings, statues, and crystal adorned light fixtures. “Wow, this is some shindig, eh, Dom?”

“More like an excuse for people who’ve never known a hard day’s work in their lives to show off how much money they have in an attempt to feel superior to everyone else in the room.” The (truthful) observation was accompanied by a slight scowl when an older woman in a satin dress wearing more jewelry than her plastic-surgery altered body should have been able to support without falling over passed by the two less ostentatiously dressed fowls.

Steelbeak gave a quiet snicker at his partner’s cynical view as they weaved their way through the crowd in an attempt to find a less heavily clustered spot with a better view of their surroundings. “Can’t argue with ya there, short fuse. I’m fightin’ my instincts REAL’ hard right now- I used t’ swipe rocks an’ cash offa chumps like these all the time when I was a kid…pick a few pockets here an’ we’d be set for life…”

��Focus on the rocks we’re after first, then you can have your fun on the way out.” Reaching one of the multiple full bars setup along the sides of the room, Dominic took a moment to properly observe his surroundings. It was hard to pick out any particular faces in such a large crowd, but, as red eyes caught sight of the grand bifurcated marble staircase draped in red carpet and ornate black handrails, a thought occurred to him: What better place to lord your wealth over a room full of billionaires than the highest point where they’d all have to literally look up to you? “Up there.”

Grey eyes soon followed the darker fowl’s gaze up the split stairs to where they met again on the next floor to form a small balcony overlooking the ballroom before branching out to the rest of the upper level. Leaning against the railing to look down on the party below was a tall, statuesque pearl white marble fox with long silver hair that fell past her shoulders in elegant waves. She was dressed in a classy black strapless evening gown with a beaded sweetheart-cut top in a snug mermaid cut that left very little to the imagination about her rather curvy figure and long legs, even with the gown reaching the floor beneath her. Like many other women attending the grand gala, she was bedecked with an arrangement of jewels such as a silver cocktail ring with a sizeable emerald at its center surrounded by much smaller white diamonds, a set of bangles encrusted with green garnets, a three-strand choker necklace of shimmering green stones with silver chains and white diamond accents, and, most noticeably of all, the pair of very large and very flashy drop-pendant earrings hanging from the base of each of her black-spotted ears with a plethora of small white diamonds around both the connecting points on her ears and around the sizeable brilliant-cut green diamonds in the center that perfectly matched the fox’s own sparkling green eyes. Everything about the woman screamed elegance and superiority compared to nearly everyone else in attendance.

Even without seeing her picture during High Command’s earlier briefing, the woman would be unmistakable as the party’s hostess, Emelia Malton. While Dominic knew she would be showing off her family’s most valuable possessions, he hadn’t expected her to have the “Goddess’ Eyes” turned into such readily visible trinkets. Then again, he mused, having them fashioned into a pair of earrings certainly made a statement that was impossible to ignore and, admittedly, would be harder to swipe than something like a necklace or ring. The woman was also no fool, it seemed, for while her security had been lowered enough for two uninvited guests to sneak in, Emelia herself (and likely most of the other valuables on the upper floor), were being diligently guarded by several large men in basic black suits spread out across the length of the staircase. Keen red eyes noted that each man was carrying at least one concealed firearm, and that there were a few more guards scattered about the lower floor near all of the doorways.

This definitely ruled out the chance of sneaking up on the fox since the security would see them coming from a mile away. A simple swiping was off the table as well, even if they could get close to her, as there was no way they’d be able to remove the earrings undetected. And, to top it all off, even if they DID somehow manage to get the diamonds off of her person, they’d be forced to fight their way through a small battalion of heavily armed guards and a crowd of frightened party-goers. Somehow, they needed to not only get on the same level as Emelia, but also draw her away from her security detail if they were to have any chance of-

“Dang, now that’s what I call a sweet pair.”

Dominic could swear he heard the bones in his neck pop from the speed and intensity with which he turned his head to stare incredulously at his partner. The expression soon hardened into a stern glare as the loon crossed his arms over his chest. “You are talking about the earrings, RIGHT?”

Steelbeak seemed completely unphased by the chilling amount of ice that the darker bird addressed him with- he seemed far too preoccupied examining the heiress with a look that was far too appreciative for the aquatic avian’s liking. “I’m talkin’ ‘bout alotta things, red eyes…” He gave another impressed whistle before (finally) tearing his eyes away from the woman on the upper floor to look down at his (clearly agitated) partner. “Why didn’t ya warn me she was such a knockout?”

“I wouldn’t know, she’s not exactly my type.” The loon huffed and rolled his eyes with a displeased scowl. “Now, if you’re done drooling over her, can we please get back to figuring out a way to get what we came here for?”

Steelbeak was either too distracted looking at the foxy woman above him or was just plain feigning ignorance of the other man’s soured mood, and, honestly, Dominic wasn’t sure which would have angered him more at this point. “Oh, don’t think for a sec’ that I can’t do both- I’m a pretty good multitasker.” Dark grey eyes drifted back up to admire the lady of the manor while the gleaming beak below them had a smirk that spoke volumes’ worth of its owner’s intentions.

Before Dominic could decide between hitting the taller fowl in the back of the head to forcefully change his focus or the equally tempting option of grabbing an unattended drink from the nearby bar-top and dumping it on the rooster to help him cool his head off, a female voice surprised them both.

“Well, well…if it isn’t Chief Officer Steelbeak. Long time no see~” The deadly duo turned their heads just in time to see a lady in a sleeveless red gown with a semi-sweetheart neckline, an asymmetrical cut that ended at one knee before diagonally ending an inch below the other, and a rather provocative slit cut into the shorter side above her black-stocking covered legs was holding a half-full glass of red wine in her purple hand while regarding them with an amused expression. The woman appeared to be a purplish jay, judging by the plumage on her exposed arms and her purple beak accentuated with black lipstick that matched her eyeliner (which was only a few shades darker than the black feathers of her face). Her black hair was tied back in a simple but elegant bun with a few stray locks left out to frame her face, the bun itself held in place with a decorative golden hair-comb that made it look like she had several gleaming marigolds holding her hair back. Marigolds, Dominic quickly noted, seemed to be a theme among the woman’s accessories, as she also had one made of black onyx on a golden chain around her neck, a matching stone on her golden cocktail ring, and the pair of spiraled golden bracelets styled like leaf vines that covered her wrists and forearms with small golden marigolds placed sporadically across the intricate golden loops; even her shoes, which at first glance appeared to be a simple pair of black suede t-strap shoes with a tall, thick golden heel, secretly contained a small red marigold locked away in their see-through midsection.

Steelbeak, who seemed unphased by the woman’s knowledge of his name, simply smirked down at the jaybird knowingly. “Well, look what the cat dragged in…ain’t seen you in a while, Mara- was beginnin’ t’ think ya ditched us for a cushy desk job under ol’ grizzle-face.”

The marigold-bedecked lady gave a dry chuckle as she swirled the wine in her glass. “And miss out on the chance to see you make a fool of yourself for thinking you actually know how to talk to a woman? Not on your life~”

Rather than looking offended, Steelbeak just laughed his usual nasally, clipped laughter and shook his head. “Hey, I know how t’ talk t’ women- just not women like you.”

“Of course not.” The purpled fowl said before taking a sip of her wine. “After all, you never were very good at handling women you had no chance with.” Looking up from the depths of her drink, she found a pair of eyes in an even more intense shade of red boring into her. “I don’t believe we’ve met. You are…?”

“I’m his partner- agent Domino.” Dominic gave the brightly dressed jay a once over, but still couldn’t shake the sense of unease and agitation this woman’s presence seemed to bring him. The feeling bothered him so much that he completely missed the slightly disappointed look in the chief officer’s eyes before he buried whatever feeling had surfaced in the back of his mind again. “High Command didn’t say anything about dispatching any other agents for this mission…”

Black lipstick curled upwards ever so slightly as the purple beak gained a small smirk to it. “That’s because I’m not here with FOWL……I’m here with SHUSH.”

Steelbeak must have anticipated his partner’s reaction, because no sooner had Dominic started reaching for his concealed weapons than the lighter fowl’s hand had positioned itself in front of the loon’s chest to stop any potential altercations. “Agent Maravilla here’s one of the best double agents we’ve got: She’s been spyin’ on SHUSH for years now an’ helps us take ‘em down from the inside.”

Dominic’s stance relaxed just enough that he no longer looked like he was going to shoot the double agent…for now… “Why is SHUSH here?”

“Oh, there’s a few targets of interest here.” Maravilla’s dark eyes glanced up towards the party’s hostess, a knowing look clear behind the playful smirk on her face. “SHUSH may have also gotten a tip that FOWL would be making a move tonight…though I have no idea who they would have heard that from~”

Red eyes narrowed suspiciously at the purplish jay. “No, I’m sure you wouldn’t…”

Steelbeak, once again sensing his partner’s growing tension and ire, chose to redirect the conversation while keeping his attention on the femme fatale. “If ya know why we’re here, then ya wanna lend a hand? We could use a distraction for the guards t’ shoot at.”

“That does sound like a good time…” The jay’s dark eyes went back to Steelbeak, looking seriously like she was contemplating the offer, but ultimately decided against it. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline this time.” With a sigh, she tilted the remnants of her wine within its glass at a sharp angle, the movement indicating something behind her. “Gryzlikoff doesn’t trust me on my own in the field anymore, so he’s started giving me babysitters..”

The pair of fiendish fowls followed the angle of the red liquid with their eyes to one of the other bars set up across the room on the other side of the dance floor. While there were several people crowded around the high-dollar booze, there was one person in particular who seemed to be purposefully avoiding looking in their direction…or rather, avoiding looking directly at them- they were subtly keeping an eye on the FOWL trio’s exchange using the reflection of their half-full glass on the bar-top (it looked like a simple shirley temple, judging by the clear soda and cherries, a far cry from the champagne and various hard liquors of the other barflies). A sneaky little trick that only someone as cunning and secretive as a spy or special agent would think to utilize.

The person in question appeared to be a vulture with feathers in a multitude of shades ranging from white on her head, to slightly darker shades of grey, yellow, brown, and even black the lower down one looked on the exposed parts of her plumage, with the feathers on her hand and the ends of her tail feathers both being the darkest points. Her hair was…interesting, to say the least- it appeared to have been shaved away along the sides to a peak in the center before being allowed to grow freely and flow down to the middle of her back, almost like a long Mohawk but without the necessary and excessive amounts of hair gel. A pair of rectangular-rimmed glasses rested on her beak as she kept a vigilant eye on her fellow SHUSH agent, the makeup around them kept simple with black wingtip eyeliner and a modest amount of golden eyeshadow. The eye shadow matched both the sheer golden shawl draped over her shoulders that kept her right arm hidden from view, the golden goddess-style sandals that peeked out from the hem of her dress whenever she moved her long legs, and the glittering golden pattern of vertical lines along the bottom of her green sleeveless floor-length halter-top gown.

Steelbeak gave the agent a subtle once-over before looking back down at Maravilla. “She don’t look that tough…want us t’ help ya get a little more breathin’ room without your nanny there watchin’ ya like a hawk?”

The double agent was quick to shake her head, but kept her expression calm and impassive. “It would be best not to. If anything happens to her, you’ll have more SHUSH agents swarming this party than you’d care to deal with- the only reason she hasn’t called them in already is because I told her you’d probably escape in the chaos.” The corner of her purple beak quirked up in an amused smirk. “Besides…this one’s fun, I think I’ll keep her around for a while~”

The larger bird shrugged his shoulders. “If ya say so, Mara.” Dark grey eyes went back up to the party’s hostess. “Guess we’ve just got one more obstacle between us an’ that pretty little thing up there.”

Maravilla looked up towards the balcony as well, her expression briefly mirroring Steelbeak’s earlier appreciative glances before she looked back to the man in question with a mischievous gleam in her dark eyes. “You know…we could do what we did back in Rio…”

Steelbeak let out a short, sarcastic laugh. “Ya mean when ya left ME holdin’ the bomb? No thanks, doll- a little fun with you ain’t worth THAT much trouble.”

A giggle born of dark amusement was barely covered up by the jaybird’s purple fingertips. “Aw, it wasn’t that bad, was it? It did work, after all~” She leaned in closer to the metal mouthed fowl, two fingers from her free hand slowly walking up his chest as she spoke. “Besides…you know you enjoyed it…even if I did come out on top in the end~”

Dominic could feel the already frayed thread holding his last bit of patience beginning to snap. A much darker hand blocked the purple one’s path and, once the multicolored bird stepped away just enough, he placed himself solidly between his partner and the infuriating femme fatale- red eyes glaring down with more venom than even his heavily-laced voice could muster. “I think we’ll be just fine thinking of a plan without you.”

The lady in red seemed momentarily taken aback by the loon’s defensiveness, but it didn’t last more than a second before her face had resumed its seemingly natural state of amusement. “Very well, if you insist.” She turned to leave, but not before looking at the chief officer over her shoulder with a wink that was either flirty, conspiratorial, or both. “If you change your mind, you know what to do~” And with that, she vanished into the vibrant crowd.

Dominic glared after her with a rather noticeable scowl on his face, even after she was long gone from his sight. If she tried that sort of thing again, he’d-

“Wow, didn’t know you were the jealous type, short fuse.” An amused voice teased him from behind.

“I am not jealous.” Looking over his shoulder, Dominic was not at all surprised to see the taller man smirking down at him. “I just don’t trust agents like her..” Moles, infiltrators, spies, double agents- whatever name they went by, Dominic had a VERY negative outlook on them in general after the fall of his base up north.

“Uh huh.” One of the lighter fowl’s eyebrows was quirked in a way that matched his sarcastic tone perfectly. “An’ I’m sure Mara puttin’ her hands on me had nothin’ t’ do with it, right?”

The loon felt his face heat up, but kept his stern scowl firmly in place. “I was just making sure she didn’t try anything. She IS working for SHUSH right now- they could order her to attack at any moment, and I don’t believe for a second she’d have a problem following that command. Looking out for your safety is part of my job- I’m your partner.” If called out for it, he would have vehemently denied any accusations regarding the possessive tone that had slipped into his voice on that last statement.

Dark grey eyes rolled slightly as the rooster huffed. “Yeah, so ya keep sayin’…”

That…actually gave the darker fowl pause. Steelbeak sounded almost…offended? Disappointed? Frustrated? “What d-”

Before he could get his question out- or even figure out what it was going to be- Steelbeak had slipped out from behind him and was venturing into the crowd in a different direction than Maravilla had gone. “Forget it- I’m takin’ Mara up on her offer. Just stand by an’ watch my back, partner.”

Dominic was so taken aback by his partner’s attitude that he just stood there- frustrated, confused, and wondering what else could possibly go wrong tonight…

____________________________________________________________

Across the room, Maravilla had returned to the vacant seat next to her fellow SHUSH agent- said agent looking less than thrilled with her antics. “Have you lost your mind? Do you know who that is?!” While she tried to look stern, it was clear that the taller bird was more worried than angry.

Maravilla took her seat and looked up at the vulture with a calm expression. “Yes, I know who he is. More importantly, he knows me from work.” She set her now-empty glass down on the bar-top. “If he saw me and I didn’t say anything to him first, it would look suspicious- I have to maintain my cover, Xaviera.”

Xaviera’s previous look lost its façade of sternness, leaving just the concern. “I…suppose you have a point there…” She quickly shook her head, giving the purplish jay a pleading look. “But you have to be more careful from now on. If Steelbeak or that other one find out you’re here with SHUSH, things could get dangerous.”

Instead of looking scared or worried by her fellow agent’s (very accurate and completely valid) warning, an almost daydreamy smile found its way to Maravilla’s face. “Oooh, I hope it does~” A purple fingertip began idly tracing the rim of her empty glass as she stared off into space, apparently fantasizing over the possibilities. “His partner looked like he wanted to shoot me- do you think he would? He certainly seems the type~ Maybe they’ll try using me as a living shield so they can escape~ I wonder if they have a helicopter waiting to pick them up- do you think they’d throw me out of-?”

“Mari, please.” The blond bird placed her hand over one of Maravilla’s with a sincere, worried look easily visible in her eyes. “I know this is all fun and games to you, but it worries me when you put yourself in danger like that. Please promise me- no getting shot at, no drinking poison, no crashing through windows, and no jumping out of helicopters. Please…for me…?”

Maravilla looked up into the taller woman’s eyes and, after a moment, gave a soft sigh. “Fine…for you, mi cielo.” She then turned her hand over so that their fingers were now entwined before lifting both of their hands up so she could place a light kiss to the darker fingers laced between her own. “You’re lucky I can’t say ‘no’ to such a lovely lady~”

Xaviera’s face instantly flushed red all the way down to her neck, her demeanor changing instantly from concerned to flustered. “I-I..uh..that is..I-I just..!” Her attempts to find the proper words were completely dashed when the jaybird winked at her, causing the vulture to (somehow) turn even redder. The only thing that came out of her beak after that was a chirp before she gave up and pressed her overheated forehead against the cool bar-top in front of her.

In doing so, the golden shawl that had been draped around her shoulders came loose, revealing the rest of her previously hidden right arm. The arm ended just before the area where her elbow should have been, the feathers a bit darker around the end of the limb and some scar tissue visible within her plumage at the very bottom of the stump. A few of the more nosy and gossip-loving individuals nearby took notice and started to whisper amongst themselves.

When a stern, almost threatening pair of purple eyeshadow rimmed eyes looked at each of them, however, they suddenly found better things to entertain themselves with and either walked away or simply averted their attention before the vulture even lifted her head to notice their presence. “Getting back to the matter at hand,” Maravilla said while gently readjusting the taller woman’s shawl back to its previous position. “I think I have a way for us to get access to Ms.Malton’s personal files.”

That seemed to snap the bespectacled bird out of her embarrassment. Quickly sitting back up, she looked down at the darker fowl with intrigue. “Really? How?” When the double agent’s eyes flicked briefly in the direction she’d come from earlier, Xaviera instantly shook her head. “You just said-”

“I won’t do anything dangerous, I promise.” Maravilla gave the darker hand still held in hers a reassuring squeeze before continuing. “Those two are after the ‘Goddess’ Eyes’ on Ms.Malton’s earrings, so they’ll try to get her alone. If our data is right, the best place to do that will be in her room. We’ll use them as bait to lure her away from the party, then I can slip in behind them and get my hands on the information Gryzlikoff and Hooter asked for. I’ll be in and out before those two figure out I’ve played them.”

“And if they do figure it out?” Xaviera asked with a mix of skepticism and concern.

Maravilla just smiled coyly up at the taller woman. “Then I’ll have you nearby to bail me out, mi cielo~” While her companion clearly had more to say on the matter, a change in the style of music the band was playing caught the purple fowl’s attention. “Ah, looks like Steelbeak’s taking me up on my offer.” She stood up, removed her flowery hair-comb, and placed it in the vulture’s hand with a wink. “Hold onto this for me, Xavi~” And with that she shook her hair out, allowing the natural waves to cascade down to her lower back and reveal the vibrant purple undertone that had previously been hidden while it was pinned, and made her way towards the dance floor- leaving behind a very confused (and flustered) Xaviera.

<--Previous Chapter Next Chapter-->

End Notes: Okay, so, here are all of the references I packed into this chapter-

Steelbeak’s suit is brand new because he followed through on his promise to himself to burn the suit he wore on his first failed dinner-date with Domino.

Domino is wearing the watch that Steelbeak gifted him way back in the first chapter of the series x3

Steelbeak’s cuff-links are the same as the ones he gave Domino as a gift during their first failed dinner-date.

Also, not related to the rest of the series, but I based Emelia’s family off of the Walton’s- the absurdly wealthy family that founded Wal~Mart.

[writingcuredmyfrown]

The Sign

It’s been a long time since I wrote something, so I present to you my latest story. A tale, inspired by H.P.Lovecraft. 

Words: 1,843 - It’s a long read, so brew some coffee or tea, close your window and kick back!

I have always had a keen interest in everything witchy, occult, magical, necromantic, mystical and supernatural. When I was a small boy I used to gather all kinds of stones, leaves, odd trinkets, twisted branches and other curiosities. Then I would take them to a small room, next to the attic of my father’s old house, where I would experiment with them, chant verses I had read in old poetry books, color them with different pigments, submerge them in water etc. Now that I look back on those years, I realize that I wasn’t looking for something, or expecting results, but that I just loved doing it. I was drawn to the process, to the interaction with the object. It pulled me, gripped me, at points I even felt enthralled by it. 

Naturally, when I saw the advert in the newspaper, I immediately boarded the first train for Akshalam. Lately, my life has consisted of endless travel from place to place, all across this wasteland of a country. I’ve found many things of suspicious origin, trinkets with questionable properties, and tomes upon tomes with knowledge, long forgotten and obsolete. You see, money would seem like a problem, but not here. Practically the whole country now deals in such goods, they’ve become the new commodity, the new big thing. Gradually everyone became if not interested in the mystical oddities, then at least interested in becoming rich off them. 

The train ride was silent. There was a nip in the air of the wagon, which left me uneasy. All around me were people just like me, treasure hunters, seekers of relics and knowledge freaks. At times, looking through the window, I felt as if this isn’t the world I used to live in. I went back in time, in my mind, and saw such things that do not exist anymore. I looked around the train and carefully scanned my fellow passengers. They were almost husks, dried out humans with no sense of place or time. I was wondering why the incidents at the docks were increasing, and why the police weren’t doing anything. It seems that slowly, over the years, this land has fallen from grace, drowned in some sort of dreadful slumber, which paralyzes the mind, but leaves the body untouched. I felt like I was on an island, surrounded by vast masses of ocean, with its deep and silent waters, ready to engulf me at any point. I kept staring out the window, I thought maybe, out there, lies something else.

When I arrived at Akshalam I sat down at a coffee shop to eat and get some coffee. The ride was almost nine hours, and I desperately needed to press on, I couldn’t allow myself to rest in one of those two-story hotels, with no windows and barely any staff members, apart from the person at the reception. I’ve stayed at such places once or twice, and no matter how hard I tried, I could never fall asleep. There was always some strange, ominous noise coming from within the walls. Screeching, scratching, twitching noises that wouldn’t leave my brain alone. When I had inquired about them, the only answer I received is that it’s natural now. It seems that most buildings in town have developed such an issue, and the residents say the only way to deal with it is to sing a verse from a book titled “A poet’s endless dream”, which calms the noises down, subdues them. 

After my little break, I went straight to the carriage station. I carried the newspaper with me, the advert was written informally, it appears the person behind it wanted the editors to not change anything. It said: 

“In the city of Akshalam, June Street, you will find me in my shop. I have for you a secret beyond your imagination. A scripture, found in a recent expedition in the Kaloma Steppes, which bears a mark of curious origin. Find me, and inquire about it. We shall speak in private.  Signed, Jazem Al-Hafar”

I showed it to the man, handling the wagons and he mumbled something inaudible. When I asked whether I could be shown the way, or carried there, he mumbled something again, and motioned me to climb on. 

The streets of Akshalam are narrow, with living quarters cramped close together. There are no sidewalks, only ditches and trenches, used for sewage and waste. Everyone uses the streets, be it on foot, on a bicycle, on horseback or in a carriage. Transportation and moving around is difficult, but at least you have ample time to see and observe your surroundings. As we were slowly making our way through puddles, mud and masses of faceless people, I felt many piercing gazes, fixated upon me. I turned around and saw children, many children with dark skin and sky-blue eyes staring at me as we passed through. Their eyes were cold, dead. I felt them sapping my life force, draining me of my energy, turning me into a husk. I quickly looked away and tapped my driver on the shoulder, so he would hurry up. He mumbled and kicked the horses, which ended up scaring a bunch of passersby, who then angrily shouted at us in a strange dialect. 

The long train ride, followed by this restless carriage ride had left me exhausted. I was now outside the shop. A small, crumbling building with clay ornaments at the front. It had a sign - “Jazem’s Sacred Grounds”. The door was wide open, the only thing between me and the inside of these sacred grounds was the fringe door curtain, a black and gold masterpiece of the oriental craft. No plastic, only the finest silk, adorned with precious jewelry and wooden figurines. I took a deep breath and headed inside. 

I stepped carefully inside, the scent of something burning, perhaps incense, immediately hit my nose. The inside was small, with barely any place to take a step. It was full of shelves, boxes, crates, barrels and drawers. Some of the were widely open, their contents protruding a bit. It was dark, the only sunshine coming from a small window on the left wall. It was so filthy, that there was barely any light, and the beams that did manage to go through, illuminated a bunch of bundles of herbs on the counter. I didn’t know what to do next, I felt overwhelmed. From every corner and every little nook and cranny, something caught my eye. Flasks and vials with colorful substances inside, rocks and ores with a faint glow, numerous mounted heads, upon whose horns hung tribal necklaces; a small bird cage, now empty, different plants with twisted-looking fruits, countless sheets of paper, scattered about, full of incoherent writing, a cat with one eye, slowly walking across the end of the room, paintings of people, possibly long one, paint brushes, canisters, trinkets, bottles, pouches, glass ornaments and silver cutlery, a long hooded cowl, hanging on a nail on the right wall, and many, many candles, now extinguished. I felt my blood pumping, my heart began racing. The child, which was locked away within me was getting excited, it felt drawn once again. That’s what I feared most, that I would be consumed if I took one more step inside this place, that my own self would capture and lead me to my end. I came so far for this, I couldn’t stop then. I had to do it, to trust. I saw a copper bell, covered in dust on the counter. I slowly made my way there, trying not to push over or break something, and pressed it. 

From behind the counter suddenly jumped a midget with a long beard and no hair. He smiled at me, caressed my hand gently and introduced himself. Jazem Al-Hafar. His teeth were all golden, his lower lip was burnt, and his eyes were dark green. I’ve dealt with such situations before, my visits have taken me far and wide, but this man was something different. His whole aura was different. I felt scared and alone, but I couldn’t resist. I felt enthralled once again. So I did as he told me, I followed him into the basement of the shop. We grabbed torches and went down a narrow corridor, which seemed endless. Soon, we arrived. There was nothing there but a table with two chairs, and a scripture. A few candlesticks gave the place an ambience of dread and decay. The scripture, I thought, it’s right there. He motioned me to sit, and he sat directly across. 

The scripture was now in his hands, the seal had come off, he unwrapped the paper and gave it to me in a ritualistic way. I took it with my shivering hands, looked at Jazem and then looked at the writing itself. I couldn’t understand a word, the letters were written in a language I’d never seen, and not only that, they were also moving across the page, shaking, twisting. They formed a circle and started spinning faster and faster. I felt the scripture wearing me down, it was too heavy for my hands, but I couldn’t let go, no matter how hard I tried. The circle kept increasing in speed, and within its boundaries something began emerging, another piece of writing, I thought. A sign. A sign resembling nothing at all, yet melting my mind the more I stared at it. I kept losing energy, the intensity of the moving letters kept increasing, and slowly the sign became a window into another world, or dimension. I saw many people through that window, the train passengers, the hotel owners, the coffee shop keeper, those children on the street, and they all had the same sign on their foreheads, glowing in bright yellow. I wanted desperately to break the scroll’s hold, but I couldn’t. The window suddenly became a mirror, and I could see myself in there. Eyes wide open, full of blood, swollen nerve endings, and an iris as black as night. Then, when I looked at my forehead, I saw the very same sign, in its bright yellow tone. I wanted to scream, but couldn’t. I couldn’t move anything, my mind was trapped inside a still body. 

And then, I woke up, head on the table. I leapt up and saw Jazem Al-Hafar right there, in front of me, holding the scripture, which was now sealed, in his hands. His golden teeth and burnt lip forming a sadistic smile, as he was stroking his beard. He took a candle and approached my face with it. 

“What do they call you, traveler?” he murmured.

I tried answering, but nothing came out. Nothing coherent, that is, only a mumble. A mumble, devoid of meaning and sense. His smile widened, he stood up and started climbing the stairs back to the shop. The wind was howling outside, and as it was making its way through the cavernous tunnel, it blew away all the candles. 

“Soon enough, traveler, all will kneel before the King in Yellow.”

[volcanofireflame150]

A Soul meets another Seoul

Ch1; Ch20

Chapter 19

When I got done eating, I've noticed on how soft Ichigo was being towards me, is like he understands that I'm trying to live my life like he does. I got my bag and headed out to meet up with him, can't believe that I'm walking by myself for the first time, something tells me that I should've went with him, but I need to show myself that I can handle things on my own. Man, I should've told him to wait for me outside the front door this feels like any bad situation will happen any time soon, I looked behind me, then looked to the left and the right, the coast was clear, why am I being so paranoid? I couldn't help but whimper in fear, I know I'm being a little baby but remember that I only grew up in a small house with Shadow Phoenix and always remained by my side. At the moment, she's resting right now, all I did was wait until I hear my name being called by a certain voice of my trusting friends and brother, though the school is far away so they are probably way a head of me. I heard someone clear their throat, I looked, there was Talon, Raven, Layla, and Levy, oh right I have these guys. But they understood where I'm coming from, this world is huge for someone like me, then I heard it again, I looked in front of me, there was Renji. I feel so stupid right now, Renji said, "You know, I'm not always busy, you could always call me when you get like this." "Yeah, but I want to handle things on my own," I said, "Turns out, I'm not ready for that yet." "That's understandable," said Renji, "C'mon, the others, including Ichigo, are waiting for you." Once we got to the school, Renji left my side, telling the others on what took me so long, I never felt this so ashamed of myself before, all I heard was Ichigo saying, "Keep trying, Akari, you'll eventually get there." "Thanks, Ichigo," I said, still upset at myself. Asteria sees this, she walks over to me, gives me something, "Here take this." "What is it?" I asked, looking at a wolf charm necklace. She said, "The Brave charm of Artemis." "Thanks," I said, "But I can't take this from you." "I made it for you, Akari," she said, "Please as a token of our friendship." I took it, though I'm not fond of jewelry, I'm fine with this hairpin combination of mother, Talon, and Levy, we finally walked in to class I took my seat then began to read Talon's book. Turns out, I was the only one who is reading rock formations with the greatest detail, I looked around seeing Ichigo and the others talking, while I'm reading my worries away. Then I decided to pull out my new phone, started to continue watching Markiplier being a total idiot on Prop Hunt, then decided to listen to Mark's outro Crazy La Paint, fits him very well because he is so wacky. As I was reading about the different types of grass terrain, I noticed someone was about to approach me once again, I felt a tap on my shoulder, I paused and looked to seeing Keigo. I asked, "Can I help you?" "I just want to say, you are lucky to be the new family member of Ichigo Kurosaki," he said. I asked again, "Yeah, what's your point?" "I have permission to hang out with you right?" he asked. I just gave him a look of disgust, "Why would I want to hang out with you? I have stuff to do." With that, I went back to my music and the book, I noticed that this book was written by Talon, himself, he is very great at this sort of stuff, well, it makes sense if you are the Earth Elemental. I was about to read the Rain forest terrain until the book was out of my sight, I looked on who took it, Keigo asked, "What's this your reading?" "Give it back!" I said, raising my voice. He kept pulling it away from me, then my fire rage kicked in and elbowed him in the stomach, well, almost until Ichigo said, "Hey! Keigo, that's my little sister you are messing with, unless you want to get a beating from someone!" "Oh yeah," said Keigo, "Like who?" Then out of nowhere, I wasn't thinking clearly I grabbed him by the collar and threatened him, "Give me my book back or I will kick you where the light doesn't shine!" He felt my nail where the part I was talking about that would make him sing soprano, yeah, you know which part I am talking about. He gave me the book back, and left me alone, I looked back where Ichigo was standing, him, Uryu, Rukia, and mostly everyone was looking at me in complete distraught and surprised. Ichigo asked in a panicked voice, "Were you serious about that on what you just said?" "If he keeps bothering me, I will," I said, "But I'm not doing it the old way, it's like that but with a burning sensation." "Oooh-kay, enough about that," said Uryu, wanting to change the topic. After that I cooled down as soon as I went back to reading and Mark's outro, the instructor came in, "Good morning, class, and nice job Akari, I see you are reading something educational." I nodded, not wanting to be bothered anymore. I kept on reading until Ichigo wanted to read with me, I didn't want to lose my place so I scooted myself and my desk over, then turned the page where he left off, then said, "Wow, who ever wrote this is has a very keen eye on every terrain there is in this world." "You should know on who it is," I said, "It was written by Talon, himself." "Very fitting on someone who is a literal Earth Elemental," we only heard Levy said. He caught up on where I was, we began to read together, then we got caught reading together again, this is a different instructor who somehow does not like on how we are always remained side by side, he said, "Miss Akari and Mister Kurosaki, I would like it if you two separate from each other." This guy really bugs me to no end, does he not care that I only feel safe near Ichigo? Ichigo sees this look on my face where I am trying to fight this aggression, because this awakened mother, and that is not a good thing according to Talon, Levy, and Raven, if something awakens mother that she extremely loathes, someone is about to meet their doom, not to mention this guy was the reason why my Soul Page was taken away. Then Ichigo became very scared, I looked at him, then looked at who he was looking at, and oh boy, this instructor is about to meet his doom, she says to him, "I'm here for someone." "Oh, yeah who?" he asked. Her response was, "You!" Then she grabbed him by his tie and dragged him to where she was going, then we heard the principle of this school shouting, "YOU DARE SEPARATE THEM!!" Instantly everyone looked at me and Ichigo, then Ichigo tells them all, "She's my new sister, watch on how you interact with her." Then we heard, "YOU SIR, ARE FIRED!!!" Then came our temporary instructor who did not mind us at all, I smiled because I felt as much at ease then we went back to reading. When it was time for lunch, it seems like this is going to be a daily thing, Raven came in and brung me something different, this time it's spaghetti with Parmesan cheese, I started eating, once again all by myself then I noticed I was told by Ichigo that I'm now going to hang out with him. I was trying to find a way on where Ichigo was at, I couldn't find any luck on where he is, then Chad tells me, "He's up on the roof, I'll lead you to there." "Thanks, Chad," I said, then followed him. Once we reached the roof of this place, I noticed on how big is was, it was big enough to relief stress, I walked through the door, and the door closed, I thought to myself, "Okay, now to find on where he is." "Akari, over here," I heard his voice say. I looked and joined his group, Raven came back and returned the spaghetti to me, I went into my own world and started to eat without knowing that I was not alone right now so I felt Ichigo tapped my shoulder, I looked at him, "What is it?" "So, what's on your mind?" he asked. I shrugged, "Nothing at the moment." It was a small bowl, though I'm not complaining Raven is amazing with her cooking, she came and made the bowl vanish to thin air. I decided to stroll around the roof, getting sucked into the amazing view of the sky, a small smile formed on my face, oh how I miss looking at the sky with Shuhei. Someone spotted this and told Shuhei to show up in his Gigai, so he appeared, though he was walking through the door that leads back into the school, walking towards me, I see him and smiles big time, greeted him by running and giving him a big hug. Shuhei chuckled, "Hey, Akari." "Hey, Shuhei," I said, "I guess someone heard my thoughts." "Yeah, you can thank Renji," he said, "I know you missed me so much." I giggled, then Keigo, being the idiot on who never stops getting on what he wants, he comes over, asks Shuhei, "What's your status with little missy here?" "She's my soon to be wife, you idiot," said Shuhei, "I suggest you go away and never bother her again." "Alright, I'll leave her be," said Keigo. Knowing him, he will never stops bothering me, Shuhei sees this look on my face, then he said, "Let's watch the clouds, Akari." I nodded, smiling again, Talon mysteriously came out, tells me, "I'll make sure you guys are alone." While we were looking at the sky, I noticed on how Talon was serious about making sure that we are comfortable and protected, he conjured up a patch of grass and a singular tree, and stood guard, Keigo tried to bother us but Talon wouldn't let him.

Talon's POV: Seriously, what is up with this guy, I told him, "Look, pal, you are not bothering them, I don't care if class is resuming, they haven't seen each other in a while so why don't you go back to where you came from and never come back!" He listened, then I tried to stop Ichigo, but he said, "Thanks for standing guard while they do this but make sure you don't go overboard with your guardian status." "You are absolutely right on that one," I said, dropping the guard just a little, "But I can't help it, it's what I'm able to do." "Who do you protect with your life?" he asked. I answered, "Raven and my wife, Serene Jewel. I'll drop my guard when you approach me, though that might not be fair to her other friends." Ichigo tells me, "Just remember to not go over board." I nodded, knowing that I might screw up some time in the future I just know it that I might screw up my role as a stone elemental guardian, I just need to be careful on what I am doing and remain calm, just for her. I just don't know on how long I can keep this bottled up inside, I feel like I am going insane right now. I made a suggestion to Akari and she might want to keep me out for a while so I could blow off some steam, sadly there are no boulders around for me to lift up and carry around so I could break them with my hammer, I also told her, "If you happen to find Jaguar's weapon, make sure you keep him in check." "I will, Talon," she said, sounding concerned for me. I sighed, "Don't worry, I'll be fine for the time being." "But that doesn't mean that you are fine now," she said, "Talon, please, let me know on what's bothering you." I don't know what happened, but all I said was, "Stop pressuring me, I don't feel like saying anything for the likes of you!!" That was when I knew that mistake happened, I started a tension between us, it wasn't before long when Ichigo noticed that I made Akari cry, this bottled up pressure was taking its toll on me, so I gave her a look of sadness on what's really going on. Ichigo pulled her away in time so I could clear my mind away, when I was left alone, I couldn't help but go into my Grass Earth Elemental and just let it all out in tears. "Hey," I heard Ichigo calling for me, "Talon, where are you?" I just stayed silent knowing that he might tell me that I went too far but I figured it out before he did, yes, just because I'm a grown man doesn't mean I can't feel sadness, it's just I don't want anyone to see me crying. It wasn't long before Ichigo finally found on where I was, he asked, "What were you thinking?" "It's none of your concern, Kurosaki," I said to him, "My business is my own." "That's a load of bull and you know it," said Renji, "Look what happened back there was unlike you." "Well, maybe if you guys would've pressured me to do anything this would never happen in the first place!" I snapped, "It's not my fault that I was chosen to be this way so why are you guys telling me to drop everything I care about and obey the likes of you!! I am Talon GrimEarth and I do not obey your every command you throw at me!!" Silence came between us, I just couldn't handle it anymore so I raised my hand up and a wall of stone came in between us so I can cool down at last. I heard Raven saying, "I know that you are wondering on where she is, Talon, don't give up, you'll find Serene Jewel." "Yeah, I just wish that we didn't have to separate, she's my one and only," I said, "I'm trying my very best to keep myself together."

Akari's POV: Can't believe Talon was feeling all that all by himself, I asked the instructor, "May I use the restroom?" "Yes, you may, Akari," she said. I have something in mind that Talon would really love if I did something like this, so I went to Urahara's Shop, Urahara asked, "Ah, Akari, what brings you here?" "I have a favor to ask," I said, "Can a friend of mine go down below and destroy those boulders you have in the way?" "Ah, why, yes of course," said Urahara, "Just bring him over when you have the chance." "Thank you," I said, left the store and back to school. Mother tells me, "Talon is going to feel much better now you did that for him." "It's the least I can do for him," I said, "Plus I was told that he breaks boulders in order for him to calm down or something." I got back to the school, went back to my desk and resumed my reading session of the different types of rock formations from Talon GrimEarth. Ichigo walked in with a VERY irritated look, I'm not going to bother him, nope, someone else would so I just stayed silent. He sees me then taps my shoulder, I looked at him, he says, "Scoot over here so I can read with you." He said that with the tone of a very annoyed voice, so I just did on what he said, stayed silent and went to the page where he was at. He read up where I was at, I didn't say anything just let him flip the page, am I terrified of him right now? Does he notices on how fidget I am being right now? I mentally shook the feeling away, guessing Talon must've set him off. After the last bell rang, I went first so I could get Talon over to Urahara's place, once I got over to where Talon was, I shouted through the wall, "Hey, Talon." "What do you want, Akari?" he asked. I told him, "I found a couple boulders for you to destroy." As soon as I said that, came down the stone wall, Talon said, "Show me." "Follow me," I said, "Urahara was wanting someone to destroy a lot of boulders so I thought of you being perfect for that." Out of nowhere, I got a hug from Talon, when I dropped him off at Urahara's place, I know that I did a good thing for him, I was now seeing Talon in his natural state, and damn, he puts body builders to shame on how shape he is. He is SO buffed up, I decided to stay for a while because I want to know on how he destroys those boulders which are collided together, then I was told that he lifts them up with his bare hands. Urahara asked, "Is he going to get crushed by those?" "Urahara, Talon is a Stone Elemental," I said, "I was told that he is always getting caught lifting up boulders all day and night." "Not the night part," we heard Talon, "I prefer my sleep, thank you very much." "Okay, never mind then," said Urahara, "As long as he can get the job done then I can't argue with you." As I left Talon in Urahara's hands, I noticed that I did not tell Ichigo on where I was going, and he's in a very irritated mood right now, so I went home before he did. So I thought, I could swear that he's waiting for me to open up the door and I get scolded by him. I took a deep breath and stepped inside, I left my book with Ichigo, I'm not going to ask for it back, I will wait for him to return it for me, I asked Karin in a whispered voice, "Where is Ichigo?" "In his room," said Karin, "You might want to let him cool down, he's not in a good mood." "Yeah, thanks to an Elemental of mine," I said, keeping my voice at a low voice so Ichigo doesn't hear me. I think to myself on where I can throw my voice, I went to the karaoke place where I met Asteria Evarose, I went to the lady and asked, "May I go up there?" "Sure, what song do you want to sing?" she asked. I told her, "Um, this one." "Waiting for Superman from Daughtry and what else?" she asked. I chose a couple songs, she knows that I want to throw my passion at different things, I rocked at the Daughtry song, apparently I was testing the sound of the mic and music. I was hearing people clapping on their way inside of the building, I sang the songs I had queued up for me, everyone loved me on how I was doing every verse and chorus. My last one was Move Along from All American Rejects, when the intro was playing, guess who walked through the door? Yep, Ichigo and his friends, I looked in front of me, I was seeing the 12 EXO guys, I began to sing the song. After my setlist of songs, I walked over to where the EXO guys were, Luhan said, "That was amazing, Akari." "Thanks," I said, blushing. Kris said, "You will become an amazing singer or songwriter one day."

[femmefatclle]

Your muse adjusting their jewelry/neck tie/ etc. / bug + ella

from nonsexual acts of intimacy

With fingers creeping behind her neck, massaging the tired and stiff muscles, Ella was trying to battle yet another yawn as her tired eyes tried not to close themselves. It wasn’t that late in the evening and this was a first for the redhead to feel this shitty so early on, which made her a completely different type of slightly annoyed and sleepily pissed at something unnamed. The only thing that kept her from letting her bad attitude and even nastier tongue to run wild was the company in which she was. Somehow, the man always managed to touch out the smallest and cutest parts of her, which seemed to be waiting something like that to blossom… and honestly, Elienna was so fucking embarrassed by that. The ‘I feel way more comfortable around mature man’ was slowly starting to get out of hand but for now the redhead was keen on just pretending that this wasn’t going to turn into a problem in the future. 

Her attention snapped back at place as she felt Bug’s touch, that, to be slightly honest, startled her at first, for both of them kind of refrained from randomly touching one another just like that. “Oh…”, the young woman laughed as she realised what he was actually doing - her snake necklace had caught in between some of her red locks and it was just a matter of time before it caused her pain, ripping at the hair. And this was what Bug’s fingers were undoing. “Thank you. My all time hero, as always.”, Ella nudged him a little with her shoulder, eyes sparkling with the purest form of joy.

[moonlight-at-dawn]

First Date | Full Metal Panic! | SouKana Fanfic | Rated T

Thank you for voting, @fairy-feather!!!

Takes place in the weeks following the final novel!

Sousuke was determined to do things right this time. If there was one thing he had learned of himself over the years, it was that he was much better off reading to gain new knowledge, if Kaname wasn't available to ask. Or, in this case, he didn't want to ask her because he wanted to show off. Hopefully that would be the end result, and not some form of disaster.

That was why he had spent the past week taking lunch at a coffeeshop, reading a book on dating. Kaname was out working, her old job immediately hiring her back on, knowing that she had spent the past year as a kidnapping victim, though they didn't know anything else on that subject. Still, it was nice that they had hired her back on, especially since it would take him some time to find consistent work, now that he didn't have the backing and forged identity from Mithril.

Catching his thoughts drifting, he shook his head to clear it, and looked back down to the book. He realized he had been reading without really absorbing the words, and he sighed to himself, flipping back a few pages. He had neared the end of the book, and he was fairly certain he now knew what to do. He knew her well enough by now to know the sort of things she liked and looked forward to. He had even managed to piece together that for all that she wasn't into romantic media, she still wanted some storybook romance.

He could do that.

I think.

He had some intermittent jobs, nothing stable, but he had enough contacts that he had been able to earn some money under the table since their return. He wasn't keen on being involved in crime, but the Mikihara gang had been quite generous, and that was largely due to Hashimizu's influence. They were one of his best suppliers of work, and they respected that he didn't want to do illegal activity. Well, beyond working without the proper paperwork, anyways. Mostly he did menial labor for them, or protected a vulnerable family member for a few hours while they took care of things.

That left him with enough money to give Kaname a nice first date, he hoped.

Closing up the book, he relaxed and finished his coffee, looking out the window and musing over what sort of shopping he should do in preparation.

It was another week later when finally everything went into action.

He would have sent flowers to her work, but being a food establishment, and her being a waitress, it seemed far too unwieldy. But every Friday, she met with Kyouko after work, and the two went together to sing karaoke, oftentimes meeting up with others from their group of friends. He had said he couldn't make this day, which was true, as he had things to pick up. But flowers found their way to her while she was out with their friends, and he received a gushing text from her. She had taken a selfie of herself holding the modest bouquet, face glowing with happiness. A few minutes later, Kyouko sent him one as well, a picture of Kaname clutching the flowers, her face pressed into them, thanking him for making her so happy in that moment.

He smiled at that and nodded. So far, so good. Now to keep this momentum.

She was home by seven, as usual, and she immediately sought him out, setting the flowers down on the coffee table and jumping onto his lap, arms wrapping around his arms. She kissed him thoroughly and he held her close, tilting his head, loving the feel of her sweet lips against his, knowing she was safe and sound in his arms. After a few minutes, breathless, she rested her forehead to his and asked with a gentle laugh, "So what's the occassion?"

"You deserve a proper date."

"That's not a date," she raised an eyebrow, clearly bemused at his seeming confusion.

"No, but I have other plans, if you're not too tired?"

She grinned at him and pulled back to get a good look, shaking her head with excitement. "I'm not! What's the surprise, soldier?"

He squeezed her thigh then patted it, urging her up off his lap. Leading her to the bedroom, he showed her the dress he had purchased for her, which he had left laid out on the bed. She squealed with delight and picked it up, holding it against her frame and swaying around with it. "This is beautiful! Sousuke..."

"I have a reservation, Mikihara helped me get it," he explained, opening up a shoe box with a pair of beautiful short heels. He had asked for much help in the store, and knowing that Kaname didn't often wear such things, they had settled on something with a short and wide heel. A necklace and bracelet followed, and while it was quite a few pieces, nothing was overly expensive. He would have liked to be able to give her higher quality jewelry, but the light and wonder in her eyes told him that wasn't necessary.

She shooed him out of the room so that she could change, and he took his own suit as he left, getting ready in the bathroom. With such short notice, she didn't do much with her hair and makeup, but she did touch everything up and ensure that her hair at least laid smooth and wasn't frizzing everywhere after the day's work and play. He drove them to the restaurant in the car her father had recently presented her with in hopes of giving her greater freedom after everything. It didn't get used much, but he was very grateful for it on a night like this, not wanting Kaname to have to walk around the city and tire herself out too much. They were both regaining lost stamina.

And to his merit, everything went smoothly, and Kaname had a look of pure happiness and adoration in her brilliant eyes for the whole of the evening. She reached out to touch his hand often, and for the first time since their return, the shadows disappeared for awhile. His chest swelled up with emotion as the evening went on, seeing the joy in her returning at last, and in his head he kept repeating the mantra Don't mess this up for her.

She was leaning against him when they returned to the apartment from the parking lot, clinging to his arm, cheek nuzzling against his shoulder. She kept giggling from time to time, and their conversations were lighthearted. She was filled with a wonder her hadn't seen in her for a long time, and she pointed out all manner of thing that made her happy. A cat prowling along a stone wall, a kid that was jumping in a puddle while her tired mother urged her and the puppy they were walking to hurry along, it was late.

And once inside the privacy of their home, she pulled him in for a deep and lingering kiss. She thanked him in a husky voice, her eyes shining with a different sort of warmth, and she pulled him to the bedroom, not making him leave this time as she changed out of the dress. It was comfortable, and they each got ready for bed, but a new ease settled over them as they laid in bed, and she fell asleep without tear stained cheeks for the first time since their return.

[rhysie-cakes314]

Day 5- Amulet

Amora eyed the matching medallions dubiously, each dangling from a thin chain necklace.. “You’re certain these are the real deal?”

The old woman’s smile was missing several teeth, and Amora wasn’t certain how the woman seemed to stare right at her when her eyes were the milky white of the Midgardian blind, but she was confident in her response. “Not many mortals are left who would recognize the Amulets of Damballah. You needn’t worry about knock-off replicas. These are suitable for your needs.”

Amora searched the priestess’ body language for signs of deception, but found none. She would know, being a master of deceit herself. “I met Damballah myself, once. I thought his specialty was death, that he only worked with necromancers. How will a tool meant for the undead help me when the man is alive?” Madame whatever-her-name-was (Amora didn’t care) may be the expert in human Voodoo here, but Amora knew her gods.

The priestess threw her head back, cackling. “I have my own abilities, Enchantress. Those amulets will work on the dead and living all the same, now.”

Amora allowed herself to grin. It was time she finally got what she wanted.

…  

Natasha was perched on the edge of the kitchen counter beside the coffee machine. “I like your new necklace,” she commented as Thor entered the room. Natasha always took a keen interest in Thor’s fashion, so she noticed any tiny changes in his everyday appearance. One of her favourite pastimes was playing dress up and makeover with Thor, partially because he was the only one who let her, and partially because it was just so entertaining. His massive demigod body managed to look good in everything from speedo to ballgown. It was also no secret that his hair was the most luscious of the group, which allowed for a myriad of experimentation for style.

Steve was off on his morning run, Phil was out of town for a mission, and Clint and Bruce were still in bed, so Tony was the only one else in the room. He lifted his head off his arms to see who she was talking to and quirked an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you liked jewelry. This opens a whole new world of possibilities for Christmas gifts.”

Thor grinned proudly. He headed for the poptart cupboard. “My beautiful lady, Jane Foster gave it to me. She said it was a symbol of our undying love, and she has a matching one. I will cherish it with all of my being.”

Now that he was closer, Natasha could see the details. The medallion matched the shade of gold that draped around Thor’s neck, and a snake was the only decoration. “Is Dr. Foster into snakes?”

Thor looked thoughtful for a moment. “She has never mentioned them, but I suppose she must! I thought maybe the snake was a Midgardian symbol of companionship I was unaware of.”

Tony’s head had dropped back down to his arms already, but he shook with laughter. Natasha threw a butter knife at his head. “Ow! No throwing my own silverware at me. I will terminate your lease. Don’t you test me.”

She didn’t look worried. “You never gave us leases. Don’t make fun of Thor if you don’t want punished.”

Tony rubbed at his head. Thor laughed his booming laugh. The sound always felt too loud in the enclosed kitchen, or indoors in general, really. Tony tried to hide the fact that it startled him by jumping up for more coffee. “I believe he was laughing with me.”

Natasha shrugged. “I think that was very sweet of Jane. How is she lately?” The astrophysicist sometimes came to live with them for months at a time, but it had been awhile. It was as sporadic a living arrangement as Thor, who whisked off to Asgard or landed in the roof without warning.

“She fairs well. She is giving a speech at an important conference next month.” Natasha sometimes tried to imagine what the relationship was like between a scientist and a god. The idea just seemed so alien. The two seemed to both be obsessed with other worlds or realms, so she supposed that could be what they shared most. But can a human really understand a centuries old warrior-king?

“I’ll have to see if I’m going to that, I’m sure Pepper will know. Maybe I can get you an invitation, buddy,” Tony pat Thor’s bicep. “I’m off to the lab now, seeya later, probably,” he shouted over his shoulder. It was that time of year again. The Avengers all knew by now that seeing Tony at all was a rare occurrence in October. The man practically worked non-stop for a month straight.

Steve returned with a light sheen of sweat. Natasha noticed he always seemed to run harder October mornings. He also exercised more in general. Her theory was that Steve needed to let off extra steam and distract himself more constantly to ward off feeling lonely while Tony was squirreled away in his lab. The supersoldier usually had unfettered access to Tony’s domain and spent hours just watching the genius work or sketching him, but not in October. Tony had forbid him because his ‘ass was too distracting.’

“Captain!” Thor welcomed. “We should spar today, it has been too long.”

Steve chuckled. “We just sparred last week! But sure, lord knows I’ve got time. Meet down there in an hour? I need some calories.” He was already raiding the refrigerator, pulling out an egg carton, bacon, and orange juice.

“A week can be an eternity when excitement is missing from your life,” Thor said mysteriously. He passed Bruce on the way out.

Bruce waved his greetings, heading straight for the tea. The group sat in companionable silence while Steve made his feast. Bruce liked to read the newspaper in the mornings. Tony kept trying to explain that a physical paper was a waste and called printing presses obsolete, but Bruce liked the feel of it. He could control the pace with which he absorbed the news instead of feel overwhelmed by the fast talking reporters on TV. Plus he liked the crosswords.

When Steve went down to the gym, Thor was already there. Steve looked at him from the doorway, curious. He looked like he was meditating. His body was still, his eyes closed. It was odd; Steve didn’t think Thor could be still. He was always so energetic. His eyes snapped open, and Steve felt the blush at being caught staring. Thor didn’t mention it though, just hopped to his feet excitedly. “Come, let us battle!”

Steve shook his head fondly. Thor brought enthusiasm to everything he did. “Only if you think you can take me,” he joked.

“I’ll go easy,” Thor boasted. “We wouldn’t want anyone to get injured.”

Thor was decidedly not going easy. The serum meant that Steve could hold up against Thor better than the others, minus Hulk, but Thor was fighting with more ferocity than usual. Steve narrowly dodged another blow, thankful they were fighting bare-handed. Even with the shield, Steve was sure Thor could hurt him with Mjolnir if he wasn’t careful. He managed a kick to Thor’s side before rolling away again. His best strategy with the god was always to stay out of reach.

“I thought,” pant, “we were just,” pant, parry, “sparring.”

Thor backed off a little, slowing his movements while they spoke. “We are.”

Steve danced around him, trying to find an opening. “You seem like you’re going harder than usual,” he was concocting a strategy. Thor always turned right to spin if you got behind him. If Steve could get him to go for the turn and manage to roll and pop up in front of his left, Thor would be wide open. He’d have to be very fast. Speed was his friend against a bigger opponent.

It had to be Steve’s imagination, but Thor seemed to sneer at him. Thor didn’t sneer. “I play to win.”

Suddenly wary that something was wrong with his teammate, Steve decided it was time to be done with this. He had a feeling Thor wouldn’t just let him bow out either. He leapt behind the god, and took action when Thor started to turn. He popped up to see Thor face to face with him. He had seen through the ploy.

Thor took advantage of Steve’s surprise and landed a solid gut punch. Steve actually left the ground momentarily before slamming into the mirror behind him. Some of the glass trickled away around him as he tried to regain the breath knocked out of him. Thor drew closer, but instead of kneeling to apologize or ask if he was okay, Thor smacked his head back against the wall. The world went dark.

…

The silence was deafening and sudden after the blasting metal from a moment ago. Tony looked around in confusion. “Sir, Steve has been injured in the gym while sparring with Thor,” JARVIS informed him.

Tony didn’t ask questions. If JARVIS felt the need to alert him, it wasn’t just a minor injury. The elevator was fast enough to throw him off balance but he remained upright. When he arrived, Natasha and Clint weren’t far behind. The scene in front of him didn’t make sense. Steve was sitting against the mirror, chin against his chest, clearly unconscious. Behind him, Tony could make out the blood smeared on the wall from his head.

Tony didn’t even notice Thor, too busy sprinting to his boyfriend’s side. Thor waited patiently off to the side, until Tony was on his knees trying to wake Steve. Natasha and Clint were too far away to stop the god.

“Tony, watch out!” Clint cried.

Tony whipped around just in time to get suckerpunched. He felt his nose break and was lying on the ground. The room spun. What was happening? He tried to lift his head, but something was in the way. He was choking. Tony blinked hard and Thor came into focus above him. But it couldn’t be Thor. His supposed friend was expressionless as he waited for Tony to stop fighting.

“It has to be an imposter, JARVIS! Scan him, who is it!?” Natasha shouted as she managed to tackle Thor away from Tony’s prone form. Tony coughed and sputtered, thankfully not dead.

“According to my scans, it is Thor. I have no explanation,” JARVIS sounded as afraid as a program could.

Clint cursed, “Shit.” He had Thor/not-Thor in a full nelson, but he was too strong to be immobilized. Natasha hit him in the head with a weight to no effect. “Where the fuck is the Hulk!? He can actually do something against this guy!”

“Dr. Banner is not waking at my prompts, and is in his bed. His vitals indicate he may have been drugged.” JARVIS explained.

Thor threw the humans off with little effort with a shout of triumph. “You will all die! Then I can return to my beloved Amora!” he thundered.

It hit Natasha like a ton of bricks. The Enchantress. The necklace had to be controlling their friend somehow. Thor had told her about the Asgardian woman who was obsessed with Thor. She had tried many times to make him fall in love with her. They had to get the damn thing off!

A gun shot rang out, and everyone spun to see the new arrival. Phil was standing in the doorway to the gym, eyes wide and gun pointing at Thor. His bags were beside him on the floor, indicating he had just arrived. The bullet bounced uselessly off of Thor’s skin, leaving only a shallow mark. “Hit the chain around his neck!” Natasha shouted, praying he’d hit it. Phil was a good shot, but he was no Clint and it was a small target.Thor screamed in rage but the next shot hit the chain and the medallion hit the floor with a loud clang.

The effect was immediate. Thor went still, looked around like he had just woken up. They watched him slowly take in his surroundings, the horrified look solidifying on his face. “What-” he choked off. “What have I done?” His voice was quiet but echoed through the silent gym. He dropped to his knees, a sob ripping through him.

Natasha wished there was time to comfort her traumatized friend, “Coulson, Bruce’s room! Clint, Tony! I’ve got Steve. JARVIS, can SHIELD pick them up at the landing pad?” No one argued, just snapped to.

JARVIS, bless him, was ahead of her. “Med evac team will land in approximately 3 minutes and are aware of the number of patients.”

Natasha allowed herself to look back at Thor as she threw Steve over her shoulder. His face was wet with tears, but he was glaring right through the medallion he now held in his hand. Everyone was going to be okay, medical was already almost there. Mjolnir landed in his hand, hard from somewhere else in the tower. Thor met her eyes for a moment before he was crashing through the window. She couldn’t blame him, but she desperately hoped he’d return after taking care of the Enchantress. He needed to know that none of them blamed him. He needed to know not to blame himself.   

[gallivantingheart]

Lyrical Hearts (Part 3)

Synopsis: Post-What Can I Do/I Loved You/When You Love Someone Saga. Young K - Brian - Younghyun - whatever you wanted to call him - was known for being unknown. At least until you caught him and his band practicing late one afternoon. This is the narrative of your soft, tentative beginnings with the gruff bassist.

Pairing: Young K/Brian/Younghyun x fem!Reader

Genre: Romance. General? Acquaintance-to Friends-to Lovers?

Word Count: 1371

Listening Recommendation: Day6 - I Would & VIXX’S N - Cactus

A/N: Looks like this is gonna be wayyy longer than three parts. I DON’T WRITE DRAFTS IN ORDER AND FILLING IN THE BLANKS IS KILLING ME. SEND HELP. OR LUNCH.

The Beginning || Part 2

Practice with their band is exactly what you expect that Thursday. A little messy, still somewhat tentative with one another but brimming with creativity. Your perch is on top of Wonpil's grand piano, overseeing all. From the sweet, effortless grace of the pianist to the way Sungjin swiftly fills the position as leader, despite Jae being just that smidgen older. Dowoon dramatically ends it with a crash of cymbals and a low laugh.

You pass the classroom on the way out, Jae being teasing and rowdy with Wonpil behind you. Soojung and Donghae are still cleaning, coughing with the sudden influx of dust, dirt and pollen flooding the room as of late. You catch her eye briefly, waving small as you go. It's not a sharp look per se, but is doing something more than fulfilling curiosity or merely observing the six of you. You feel very out of place for the first time amongst the band. Even being with five high school boys, all afternoon you'd felt at ease, as if you were meant to be there regardless of your lack of music ability. As Sungjin pushes the school doors open for you all, you ponder as to why Soojung wasn't present, nor mentioned even in passing. She and Jae were two parts of a platonic whole. Until a short while ago it was unfathomable to you that the pair could be separate. And Sungjin had held a candle for her earlier in the year.

Younghyun, it turns out, takes the same bus as you to get to work. Dowoon loiters at the bus shelter with you, even as it gets dark. It's as if he's putting off going home, shrugging away all of Young K's insistence to head off.

Getting on the bus leaves the bassist standing awkwardly next to your seat. It's a little cramped after a few stops, standing room only for office patrons. It's silent between the two of you until:

"Do you know why Sungjin offered to let me watch your practice?"

"No." It's not accusatory, only factual.

"Neither do I really. I mean, I was a bit in awe of your performance the other week and I'd said so. But that didn't mean I could come again. I'm a little useless. Only a spectator - unless you feel you all need an ego boost." You chuckle breathlessly, looking down.

The man next to you shifts closer to you - uncomfortably so - so you adjust yourself too, closer to the aisle. In the process you bump Younghyun's knee with your thigh due to the compact space. Your bag is heavy on your lap as you absently play with your bag charm. Younghyun's bass sits zipped up in its case, flat against his back. The top looks like the sheath to a sword over his shoulder and you suddenly get itchy fingers - you have a penchant for fantasy.

"Not really." Younghyun finally answers, staring at you out the corner of his eye.

His flat tone seems to signal the end of conversation and again, you laugh a little awkwardly before swiftly pressing the button for the next stop even though yours was two away. At that motion he steps out the way - at least the best he can - for you so you can stand. Slinging your bag over your front - it was too tight to swing it onto your back - you look over to him.

"Are you okay with me seeing more of yours at lunch?"

He shrugs and pulls a face, his earrings shaking. That reminded you of another thing about him you’ve learnt about him recently - he wears jewelry. Really well. From rings to necklaces and silver earrings.

You rest your hands on your bag, sight falling to said rings, a black metal. "Okay. Well, uh have a good time at work! Night, Younghyun."

He rolls his eyes, that funny look back in his eye, saying nothing but your name in lazy farewell.

Speaking of funny looks. it has been the same expression form him since you'd interrupted their private stage. Whether he catches your eye as he breezes in late, over the top of his phone screen as he waits for class to start or like today, from your place atop the piano.

It burns you constantly; settles a little uncomfortably in your shoulders. Usually his mouth is shut in a firm but enticing line. Keen eyes and the briefest knit to his soft brows. Thickly layered sight filled with thought you can't quite read yet. Maybe it was just your writers' imagination sparking you - it begged you to discover why.

Your phone disrupts the focus on your writing, jolting you and making your pen skid across the page. Sighing, you arch your back and rub at your face, trying not to glance out at the night that has swallowed the sunset far too quick for your liking. Again, it buzzes and sings. You unlock it, rocking back on your seat.

[Stoneface Dan] @You what are you doing?

[You] not hmw

[You] obviously

[Somimimimi] writing! Qhats it about! When can we seeeee

[You] same old same old. when I’m finished

[Stoneface Dan] It better satisfy my standards. I can check if you want.

[You] maybe later ^^

It’s not the same old. It was elaborate high fantasies that took a good few weeks of world building to even consider putting to paper. Now…now you’re not really sure. Now it’s about a boy behind walls you can’t quite penetrate despite its previous ease, with a siren’s voice that keeps you coming back. But it’s going nowhere - patchy at best, a thin narrative full of holes - and you’re getting frustrated.

You stare at your page, scrawled and barely half written before ripping it out, something more refined and distilled coming to mind.

The window is open again, the incoming spring shiver slipping in. You suspect that the end pane is stuck open, having sat in the same position for as long as you've studied here. It doesn't deter him from his tinkering, the bass still sits over his knees. Nor does it stop you from shamelessly probing him as you have been for the last day or so. You felt after the first few times in silence, you could tread into vocal territory with him and so far it's been successful. Questions and pleasant conversation - you even dare to think you could be friends eventually.

He sits closer to a desk, his rumpled and water (you think) stained notebook opens up to reveal muddled phrases and hasty, fragmented tunes. He has to ask for a pen, a wry smirk stretching his lips as he did so.

He pauses playing across from you, the practice room absorbing the midday sun. The amp lets his last note softly ring into silence and your trance on his dexterous fingers and melodious voice is broken. His voice dies with it and you look up to catch his sight on you. He’s in another one of those band shirts, bracelets looped up his arm. His eyes are piercing but not harsh, an appearance on Young K that’s frankly, odd. Yet again different to what you usually see on his face when associated with you - softer. Neither of you have the strength to break eye contact.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that? I always feel as if I’ve done you wrong.” You blurt out.

Younghyun starts at the sound of your voice, eyes shifting to focus better. “I don’t have a look.”

“Yeah! That one you’re pulling right now.” You uncross your legs and splay them in a very unladylike manner, tucking your skirt down between your thighs. You’re leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees to try and examine him, quirking your brow expectantly. “So, what’s your deal, Younghyun?”

He holds your gaze a little longer with his sharp sight, fingers still held for a chord over the strings. His legs are alarmingly long, foot almost touching across from you. Your blazer has slipped off the back of your chair, the chill refreshing.

“You’re the first person to call me by my real name.”