#Other peoples first instinct is to step away or let them barrel into them

[olivers-cocoapuffs]

James Potter will catch anyone who jumps at him. He’ll drop what he’s doing, drinking tea, reading, writing to catch anyone

His friends find this hilarious, and will randomly jump at him. He carry’s Marlene from DADA to Potions one day. Pandora decides to test the “anyone” and launches herself at him, absolutely delighted when he drops his coffee to catch her

You don’t even have to call his name before you jump or start running, he just does it

[bi-bard]

They Tell Each Other Who to Look After and Who to Watch Out For - Kaz Brekker Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: They Tell Each Other Who to Look After and Who to Watch Out For

Pairing: Kaz Brekker X Reader

Word Count: 1,916 words

Warning(s): abduction, vague threats of violence, actual violence

Summary: After using their power to save the life of their best friend, (Y/n)'s time of running and hiding comes to an abrupt end. Now, they find themselves in a new reality where they can either survive or risk losing everything.

Author's Note: This is the second time in the last like month that I have accidentally started something that turned into an OC. It happened twice.

Also, I thought the pattern of using a line of dialogue as a title was clever, but I fear that I'm going to regret it later.

MORE OF THIS OC HERE!

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There was a time when Inej tried to claim that everything that happened to me was her fault. That it all boiled down to one action on one night that she thought was her fault.

She was wrong.

I would say that it was mine, but that also was wrong.

If it all could be traced to one person, then it would be traced back to the man that had tried to attack her.

I reacted out of instinct. I saw Inej get grabbed and my brain focused purely on helping her.

When I had saved Kaz, I was in an enclosed space. But in that situation, it was different.

It all happened before I could truly think about it. She had shoved this man back and as soon as there was enough space, I hit him.

As he fell back, I didn't even think about the arguably small burst of light that had come out of it. Or the chance that I had been spotted by anyone.

"Inej," I said, running over to her. "Are you alright?"

She took a moment to breathe.

"Inej-"

She stopped me by yanking me forward, wrapping her arms around me tightly. I let out a sigh of relief before hugging her back. A small grin formed on my face and my eyes closed for a moment. I was just happy that she was okay.

"Kaz would kill me if he saw that," I muttered as I stepped back.

"I'd like to see him try," she replied.

I laughed quietly, shaking my head. "Come on. We've got a job to do."

She nodded.

We went along with our night without much thought about what had happened.

I believed that I was safe. Or as safe as I could be considering the circumstances of my life.

I was constantly on high alert.

It was a natural part of living in the Barrel. Especially with the reality of who I worked with. Kaz Brekker could make a lot of people angry.

That day was no different than any other.

I was walking down the street, dodging people as best I could. The streets of Ketterdam were rarely not busy. People were usually going to work, just trying to keep their heads above water and maintain whatever vice they had.

It didn't take long for me to notice the men following me. Their eyes were too focused to merely be going the same way as me.

I didn't let them know that I was aware of them. Instead, I took turns that I usually wouldn't. I cut through alleys and took shortcuts that I saw no purpose for. My hope was to lose them by either going fast enough or just by forcing them to get confused.

I didn't get the chance to watch them run like mice in a maze.

One of them grabbed my arms after I had turned down one of the alleys. I yelled, immediately attempting to yank my arms away. I kicked the other man in the chest, causing him to stumble back.

The first man kept my hands apart, but I still struggled.

I pulled and kicked and moved as much as I could in the hopes of getting out of there.

When my attempts to escape went unsuccessful and seemingly unnoticed, I did the first thing that I could think of.

"Kaz!"

I was shoved to the ground as soon as the name left my mouth.

I don't remember anything after that.

My next vivid memory was waking up in some bed somewhere. I shoved myself up immediately, trying to get a hold of my surroundings.

I was sitting on top of the covers of a bed. Easily the comfiest bed I had ever been on. The bed was pushed against the middle of the wall that was furthest from the door. The rest of the room was full of intricate details and littered with pieces of furniture. Clearly, this was meant to be a place of luxury. One that I had never deserved and never wanted.

The room was mostly white. White walls, white bedding, white curtains for the windows, white doors. There were only a few exceptions. The floor was made of wood and laid in an intricate design. Details on furniture, the edge of the mirror, the frames of the chairs, and even the partition meant to give me some semblance of privacy were gold. Splashes of beige were thrown around too. Probably meant to make the room less like a cell than I knew it was.

As I sat in silence, trying to put together my fractured memory and devise a way out of there, I found my mind drifting.

Mainly to Kaz's office.

I had found more comfort in that office than I would probably find anywhere else. I thought back to that first night that showed him my power. And every night that I had been there after that. Moments where I would stand just in front of him, never allowing ourselves to touch. There was this silent longing. Yearning that would feel suffocating as I watched his eyes shift and move.

I would give anything to feel that familiar suffocating feeling again.

I took a deep breath. He would find me. Him and Inej and Jesper. They would find me. They would protect me. I trusted them to do that.

But I could always spare them some of the trip.

I shoved myself out of the bed, pulling on the heavy boots that I had invested in. Jesper made fun of me when he first saw them, but I defended them fiercely. They had lasted me longer than many of his hats had lasted him.

I was about to storm out of the room when the doors opened. I stumbled back a bit when a man walked in.

I composed myself quickly, straightening my spine and planting my feet.

"You're awake," he said. "Good. I hope the room was to your liking."

"Would have enjoyed it more without the kidnapping part," I replied.

He let out an amused huff through his nose. "Necessary steps had to be taken. We were under the impression that you wouldn't come willingly."

I let my eyes scan him. "Who are you?"

"General Kirigan," he held out his hand for me to shake.

Oh. I had heard stories about General Kirigan. I believe that most people had. I had never seen him before. I... I tried to not picture him. He terrified me. I knew that he had been the biggest threat to any freedom I had.

And now he wanted me to shake his hand.

I looked down at it.

"Maybe later," he mumbled, pulling his hand away from me. I looked back at his face.

"Where am I," I asked.

"The Little Palace. Safest place in all of Ravka."

I had to hold back my scoff.

"You'll be safe here-"

"I want to go home," I said bluntly.

"We both why I cannot let you do that," he replied. "You have a responsibility. We have a responsibility to all of Ravka."

"I have no interest in being a hero or a saint."

"You forfeited that decision with your little show in Ketterdam."

I took a deep breath.

"Everyone knows who and what you are now."

"I've had a target on my back my whole life. This is no different."

"It very much is-"

"I am not asking for permission. I am giving you the courtesy of telling you that I'm leaving instead of jumping from the window."

"I wouldn't do that," he advised. "It's a long way down."

Again, I had to bite my tongue.

"The two of us have a chance to do something great. To free everyone. I am begging you to see the good that this could do for everyone."

He stepped closer to me as he spoke. He wanted to convince me so much.

But I had spent far too long hiding and running to sacrifice myself now. I had been taught to run away from exactly this. My parents would cry for me from wherever they ended up. They sacrificed their lives for me to never end up in this situation. To keep me safe. I couldn't let them down like that.

So, I didn't: "I am going home."

"You can," Kirigan said. "After the Fold is down."

"No," I shook my head. "You cannot force me to be some... symbol for your cause."

"I see," he looked down for a moment.

"I am going home," I repeated. He nodded.

I went to walk around him, ready to leave. He watched me the entire time.

I only made it a few steps past him when he spoke up. "So, back to Ketterdam."

I turned to look at him again. I raise an eyebrow at him.

"That's where you want to go, correct," he asked.

"Yes."

"Back to that little family you found," he continued, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Inej, Jesper, and... Kaz. Right?"

I knew what he was trying to do. A small way to show me that he knew about more than merely my existence and where I had been.

I didn't respond because I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of watching me react.

In reality, I wanted to scream at him. Ask why he knew so much about me. Ask how long he had been keeping an eye on me. Ask if he knew while I was in my early days in Ketterdam and he let me form connections so he would have something to hold over my head. I hated that he probably knew more about me than anyone else in my life. Maybe even myself. But I would never let him see that anger and fear. I refused.

"It wouldn't be safe," Kirigan walked closer to me as he spoke again. "For them. You're the sun summoner. And you've been found. You can't hide anymore. From anyone."

I took a deep breath, my jaw clenching. I took note of how his tone darkened on those last two words.

"How long do you think you can protect them on your own," he asked. "That little band of misfits that you've got?"

That was enough for me.

"Let me make something perfectly clear," I snapped as I stepped forward. "If anything happens to any of them and you had anything to do with it, then you will not have the opportunity to use an ounce of my power. Is that understood?"

Kirigan's slight smirk didn't falter, but he did raise an eyebrow at me. "Understood."

I didn't stand down. I was going to make him step away. He took a sharp breath before looking away from me and taking a few steps back.

"You should spend the evening getting settled," he said. "You begin training tomorrow."

He nodded to me as a false sign of respect before stepping around me and leaving the room. It took every ounce of self-control to not try to kill him.

He knew that I couldn't leave. He knew very well that I wouldn't threaten their lives like that. I exposed my secret to keep one of them safe. Leaving now would be selfish.

Fine.

I would stay, I would train, and I would do what I had to to survive and keep the ones that I care for alive.

But no one said that I couldn't make the general's life hell while I was here.

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Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[vodika-vibes]

post Order 66 - part 10

Time moves ever on, and it’s been a year since the crew of the Starsinger grew by one additional person. It’s been a relatively stress free year. But, as happens, things change.

So. First of all, angst warning. Sorry, not sorry. Secondly, this feels a bit shorter than the other ones to me. So sorry about that as well.

tagging: @starrrgazingbunny and @thestarwarslesbian

Fox woke to the sound of shouting.

“Give it BACK!” Cal shouted, there was a thump, and then another one.

“It’s NOT YOURS!” Marral shouted back, there were a couple more thumps, and Fox sighed. He carefully untangled himself from Kanna, and silently padded to the door, allowing it to slide open, and he poked his head into the hall.

“Oi!” He snapped, “If the two of you are going to kill each other this early in the morning, at least move to the cargo bay!”

There was silence, before the bedroom door for the room that Cal and Marral shared slid open, and two sheepish faces peered out, “Sorry Ba’vodu Fox,” Cal said.

“We didn’t mean to get so loud,” Marral agreed, his pale face flushing pink.

Another door slid open, and Cody stepped into the hallway, pulling on his shirt, “Do we need to separate the two of you, ad?” He asked, with an arched brow at Cal, who flushed red.

“Um. No, buir. We’ll work it out.” He paused, “Quietly.”

Fox seriously considered going back to bed for a moment. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Kanna was already sitting up in bed, and that Wolffe had already sprawled himself across Kanna’s lap, and Fox’s side of the bed. The bastard.

Kanna shot him an amused look, meaning he probably projected that thought. Oh well, his twin wasn’t force sensitive, and Kanna wouldn’t tell on him. Wolffe shifted and mumbled something, as he wrapped his arms firmly around Kanna’s waist, falling into an even deeper sleep.

Fox watched as Kanna started tracing soothing shapes across Wolffe’s back, and he sighed. He padded back across the room and grabbed a clean shirt, before he left the room, 

He snagged both Cal and Marral by the collars of their shirts. “Since the both of you have so much energy this morning, you can help me with the kids morning exercise.”

“Nooo-”

“Yessss,” Fox teased, as he lightly ruffled Cal’s hair, “Go get Luke and Rhawl, please Cal. Mar, you get to wake up Yin.” The two teenagers shot him nearly identical sullen looks, but they did as he asked.

It was fair punishment, after all.

Cody walked over to him and pressed a mug of caf into his hand, “Luke and Rhawl are going to run them ragged.”

Fox smirked, “That’s the plan, vod.”

“Wolffe still asleep?”

“Yeah, apparently his bounty gave him some trouble. I wouldn’t be surprised if Kanna is encouraging it. He at least let her heal his bruises before collapsing last night.” Fox admitted.

Cody grimaced at the thought, “I wish he wouldn’t work alone. But-”

That but was the big thing. Neither Fox nor Cody had the desire to become bounty hunters, preferring to remain on the ship with Obi-Wan and Kanna to protect the kids. Dusk was a bounty hunter, but he and Wolffe didn’t work so well together. And there was only so many credits that the Organas could funnel their way before people started getting suspicious.

Fox shook his head, shaking away the anxious thoughts as he heard the sound of the children waking up. He instinctively ducked down as a bundle of blonde hair barreled into him, “Buir!”

“Morning, Lukey.” Fox greeted with a small smile, as he settled his son on his hip. “Ready for your exercise?”

“Wanna climb! I’m gonna be faster than Rhawl this time!” Luke said loudly.

“Well, we can certainly test that.” Fox teased, he kissed Luke’s forehead, and then set him back on the floor, “Go on, now. You know where we’re going. Quietly now, Papa Wolffe is still sleeping.”

“I can be quiet!” Luke said in a loud whisper, which was more like a shout, but...well, he was working on it.

Cody and Fox watched as Cal and Marral attempted to heard the kids to the lift that would bring them to the cargo bay. Attempted, because herding children was like herding loth cats. Eventually Cal gave up and just lifted them all with the force, pulling excited giggling from the children.

“...he’s gonna regret that.” Cody said, with a vicious grin.

“He’s only 15, vod. He’ll learn.” Fox lightly rapped his knuckles against Cody’s shoulder, “Come on, better get started.”

*****

Several hours later, the family was gathered in the sitting room. Well, the adults were, the kids were elsewhere on the ship, having their lessons for the day. Kanna was lounging on the couch, with her back pressed against Fox’s side, and her feet propped up on Wolffe’s lap. Obi-Wan was sitting on the floor, in front of Cody. Cody was braiding his hair.

Dusk, however, was absently flipping through various news channels, looking for one that was the least biased. 

“Oh my god, just pick one!” Kanna finally blurted.

Dusk scowled at her, “I’m trying to find one that not biased!”

“They’re all biased, vod’ika,” Wolffe said tiredly, “Because, you know, democracy or something.”

“Fine,” Dusk huffed, flipping back to one of the ones that he hated the least.

The listened, intently, for any interesting news. Slow news days were the best, because it meant that there were no fires for them to put out immediately. As per usual, the news was focused on the Emperor’s statue, which was being built on Naboo, and the continued retrofitting of the Jedi Temple.

Obi-Wan and Kanna both scowled at that news. “Hope they’re being haunted,” Kanna muttered bitterly. Obi-Wan snorted in laughter.

“I’m just glad that Cal and Marral aren’t here to see this.” Obi-Wan admitted, “This would kill them.” He made a face, “That was our home.” His voice sounded deeply pained, and Cody reached around to offer him a hug. 

They...didn’t talk about the temple much. The few times it was mentioned in passing, the Jedi who remembered the temple, Obi-Wan, Kanna, Cal, Marral, radiated such despair that it was difficult to remember that there were only four of them and they couldn’t, actually, win a war with only four people.

Dusk lifted his hand to turn off the holo. No need to depress Kanna and Obi-Wan more than necessary. But his hand paused when the screen shifted. 

“Breaking news,” The woman on the holo said, “We have just recieved word that Queen Breha Organa, Prince Consort Bail Organa, and their daughter, 3 year old Princess Leia Organa, were killed when their ship was destroyed by pirates-”

The reporter continued, but Dusk didn’t hear them. He didn’t hear much of anything aside from the sudden rushing in his ears, and a strangled noise that he suddenly realized was coming from him. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t-

Cool hands pressed against his face, and the sensation of peace slammed over him. And the soft, so gentle, voice of Kanna echoed through his mind, “Sleep, Dusk. I have you.”

He willingly, and grateful, accepted the unfeeling darkness that she offered him.

*****

It was never good, when a breaking news bulletin came across the holo. Generally it meant that the Inquisitors had found another Jedi, or that a Rebellion cell had been wiped out.

But this...this was so much worse.

Kanna was on her feet and at Dusk’s side as soon as he knees hit the ground. She had never seen Dusk like this.

Just. Shattered.

He crumpled in on her, like a puppet who’s strings had been cut. The noise that he was making-

She released a shaky breath, and she threaded her force signature though his hurt. She couldn’t fix this. There was no fixing this. But she could make it hurt a little less for the moment.

As soon as he was asleep- and oh, he was crying in his sleep- she instructed Fox and Wolffe to bring him to the med-bay. And then she focused her attention on Cody and Obi-Wan, “We need to go. Someplace else.”

“Home,” Cody said, his voice strangled, “We’ll go home.” He moved towards the cockpit without a second thought.

Obi-Wan was shaking, “I-I’ll help you.”

Kanna watched him for a moment, before deciding to allow Cody to handle Obi-Wan’s breakdown. Dusk needed her specific brand of help much, much more. She spun on her heel and hurried down to the med-bay, her mind already whirling on all of the things that she would need to help keep Dusk calm...and stable.

Wolffe stepped out of the med-bay as she approached, “Fox is staying with him, what can I do?”

“The kids. Can you distract them? Maybe tell Marral and Cal what happened, they’re old enough, but-”

Wolffe nodded, once, “The smaller ones don’t need to see Dusk like this. Agreed.” He paused, and made a face, “And things were going so well, too. Where are we going?”

“Home.” Kanna replied, she lightly touched his arm, “Thank you, Wolffe.”

“No need for that, cyare.” He countered lightly, “Go do your thing. I’ll handle the kids.”

Kanna smiled at him, and slipped into the med-bay. Someday, she knew, they would have to discuss the thing between her and Wolffe, and her and Fox. But not today. Today Dusk needed her a lot more than anyone else.

*****

The little outpost that had once been home to Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor had grown a lot over the prior year.

Turned out, when the Purge happened, it didn’t account for the people in the Agricorps. Or any of the other Jedi corps, for that matter. So, when Ahsoka went out to find other jedi, she found a lot of them.

And they all traveled to this little no name planet to set up homes there. Which was good, because Rex was very good at his job, and there was now enough clones living on the planet to make a whole Battalion. With more arriving every day.

Still, when the Starsinger landed on the recently built landing pad, only days after the announcement of the deaths of the Alderaanian Royal Family, no one was surprised. Least of all Rex.

He ran up to the ship, and wasn’t the least bit surprised when Cody was the first one off. “Where’s Dusk?”

“Med-bay,” Cody replied, not bothering to be bothered by his brother’s lack of greeting, “Fox is with him, as it Kanna.” He grimaced, “He’s...managaing?” That was a lie. Dusk hadn’t said a work to anyone since he woke up. Not even his own children.

Wolffe had been forced to sit down with the younger kids and explain what happened, why Dusk wasn’t acting like himself, and now the kids were all but attached to his side.

“There’s a room available for him, but-” 

“...I don’t think we’ll get him out of the med-bay without a fight,” Cody admitted, “The kids will be easier.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Rex replied, “Get the kids out from underfoot, and give Kanna and Fox the chance to piece Dusk back together.”

****

It hurt.

It’s been three weeks, and still everything hurt. 

Kanna told him that it was normal. That it would take time. That he could take as long as he needed.

He wasn’t sure that was true. He had children. He was supposed to-

His breath caught in his throat.

Rhawl was only a few months older than Leia. Leia who was now space dust. Leia who never had the chance-

“Stop, Vod. You need to stop.” Wolffe’s hand was firm on his shoulder. He wasn’t sure why Wolffe, of all people, had been assigned to watch him, but Dusk found that he was grateful for it.

Wolffe was a very no-nonsense man. He was steady and solid, and Dusk found that when he was drowning in grief, Wolffe was the best person to pull him back to himself.

“Sorry,” Dusk rasped out.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Wolffe replied, “Your grief is real and valid. But I’m not going to stand here and let you beat yourself up.”

“I know.” Dusk released a shuddering breath, “We were going to watch the kids training.” He said.

“We were.” Wolffe turned to watch him seriously, “You don’t have to if, you’re not ready. The kids will understand.”

“If I don’t force myself, I’ll never get out of bed again.”

“That’s the grief talking, Dusk.” Wolffe said patiently.

“...yeah. Maybe.” He curled his arms around himself, “I think I’m just going to go and lay down. I’m not so sure I can handle two dozen kids.”

Wolffe nodded, “I’ll explain it to the kids. Just call, if you need someone there.”

“Yeah. I will.” He turned on his heel and retreated to the rooms that Rex had prepared for him and his crew. He opened the door, stepped in, shut the door, walked across the room to the bed.

He didn’t make it to his bed.

He just crumpled to the floor next to the bed, a choked noise that might have been a sob escaping him as he curled in on himself. Even now, three weeks later, he couldn’t believe that they were gone.

Eventually he managed to shift so that he was sitting against his bed, rather than curled up on the floor in a ball of misery. He wasn’t sure how long he had laid there, not having the strength, or the will, to get to his feet.

He was vaguely aware of someone yelling in the hall.

If he wasn’t mistaken, it was Fox who was yelling. He would recognize that particular brand of yelling anywhere. Stars knew that he heard it enough. His head fell back against the bed, he tried to work up the will to be amused that someone else was being yelled at, but there was nothing.

He lifted his head slightly when his bedroom door cracked open, only big enough for a small child to slip through. Still, when Rhawl or Luke didn’t attach themselves to him, which they had taken to doing, he allowed his head to fall back again.

And then-

Small hands lightly touched his face, “Buir is...sad. So sad.” A small voice. A small female voice.

Dusk’s head snapped up, and he stared, stunned, into the tear filled brown eyes of Leia Organa. “Leia?” That was...impossible. Leia was dead. Like Bail. Like Breha.

But...

But on the off chance that she was here-

Dusk opened his arms, and the three year old instantly crawled into his arms, “Buir,” She murmured, as she buried her face into Dusk’s chest. He curled his arms tightly around her.

His door opened again, and two more people stepped into the room. A slender woman with her hair coiled into a braid, grief written clear on her face. And a taller man, who was nursing a black eye.

“Oh. Oh, Dusk,” Breha Organa crossed the room faster than any woman without the force had any right to do, and she smoothly dropped to her knees next to him, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t...understand?” Dusk was feeling numb, but Leia was warm and Breha’s hands were somehow warmer.

“We...the Emperor started looking too closely at us. At Leia,” Bail said as he sat close enough to Dusk that their knees bumped, “We had to disappear.”

“You...I thought you were dead. Why didn’t you message?” Dusk said, the numbness slowly turning into rage, “You let me think you were dead!”

“I know. I know and I’m so sorry,” Bail said, sounding so, very, guilty. “Your brothers made sure that we were very aware that that was the wrong decision,” He said, lightly touching the bruise around his eye.

Breha sniffled, “I told him we needed to warn you,” She said, using the sleeve of her dress to wipe tears off her cheeks, “but he was so scared-” She sniffled again, “Oh, Dusk. Can you ever forgive us?”

Dusk tightened his arms around the child in his arms, “I need time.” He said, his voice hoarse, “You can’t...you can’t just...”

“No, no. Of course. You’re right.” Bail said, “but. We’re staying here. All three of us. So, so you can talk to us whenever you’re ready.” He glanced at Leia, and then back at Dusk, “You can keep Leia, until she’s ready to come back to us, too.”

Dusk blinked, “...what.”

“She found out that we didn’t tell you,” Bail explained, “She’s so angry at us.”

Dusk let out a watery laugh and buried his nose in Leia’s hair, “Little Imp,” He murmured fondly.

“Buir,” Leia replied, “My Buir.” She added with an accusatory glare at her parents.

Dusk shuddered, “I’d like you both to leave, please.”

“Of course. Whatever you need.” Breha said, as she pulled her shaking hands away from Dusk, and got to her feet. And then she pinned her husband with an unhappy look.

Bail grimaced, but also got to his feet, and silently left the room. He had a lot of making up to do. To a lot of people. His face fell when he stepped into the hallway and came face to face with an irate Captain Rex.

Dusk lifted his head once he was sure that he and Leia were alone, “You alright, Imp?”

“They hurt you.” Leia sounded angry, “Hate them.”

“No you don’t, baby. You’re just hurt too.” He bumped his forehead against hers, “But, we can stay here and be hurt together, until we’re ready to not be hurt anymore, yeah?”

Leia stared at him with eyes that were far too old, and then she nodded, “Kay.”

They would be alright. Dusk wouldn’t allow his sharp edges hurt this little girl, but he had a lot of experience in softening his edges so that they’re safe for children. Kanna was going to need to talk to Leia about her feelings, but that could come later.

For now they would just exist, and hurt, together. 

[in-my-feels-probably]

Empyrean - Chapter Eight

Chapter 8

Elham felt like she was seconds away from fainting when she pushed herself through the doors to the Emerald Palace. Turns out, it didn’t matter if she or Kaz were good actors at all. Nina was constricting their chests hard enough that the instinct to fight for breath was involuntary. She hardly had any time to take in her surroundings as Nina finally let her go, and she buckled to the floor alongside Kaz.

“Tell your boss I have what he wants,” Nina said from above them.

Elham could still feel Nina’s pull, but luckily, she gave her just enough slack so that she could actually take a full breath and fake the rest. The momentary release allowed her to look up around the room, and she realized it was packed with Dime Lions.

And to make it worse, Pekka Rollins had just come around the corner.

Elham couldn’t help herself, quickly jumping to her feet. Kaz was still on the floor, and he was all Pekka truly had his eyes on anyway. Nina continued to control Elham’s heartbeat so that she could do little more than stand still, but her real effort was put on Kaz. She could hear him groaning through clenched teeth as he tried to push himself up.

“No match for a Heartrender, are you, Brekker?” Pekka taunted, his men gathering behind him. “A real boss knows how to inspire loyalty in his people. Isn’t that right, boys?”

Elham desperately wanted to say something, but she kept quiet. This rivalry was between Kaz and Pekka, and it wasn’t her fight to lead. She stood in silence, waiting vigilantly for any type of signal from Kaz telling her to make a move.

Pekka continued. “Good job, lass. I got it from here.”

He motioned toward his men, and the one closest to him immediately drew his pistol, pointing it at Nina. She raised her hands in retaliation, but was quickly stopped when another man behind Elham cocked his gun too, pointing it directly at her. Slowly, Nina moved her hands out to the side, surrendering.

“I’m gonna make you regret the day that you crossed me,” Pekka said, removing his coat as he glared down at Kaz. “Get him on his feet. And take that one’s sword.” As a few of the men moved to hoist Kaz up, and the others worked to pull Elham’s sword from its sheath, Nina turned to Pekka. “We had a deal. I did my part.”

“We’ll get to that. But first…I need to make an example out of this rat.”

Kaz was standing now, and his eyes held back a fury that made his usual annoyance with the Crows–Jesper in particular–seem like a dream by comparison. He turned to Nina with such disdain that Elham almost forgot that he was faking the whole interaction. He was terrifying, even when he was directly in the line of fire.

“You’ll pay for this, you double-dealing witch!”

“No, she won’t,” Pekka grinned, turning Kaz’s attention back to him. “But you will.”

The second their eyes met, chaos erupted. Pekka’s fist collided with Kaz’s stomach, making him double over in pain. He let out a dry cough as he caught himself, only to be yanked back up to a kneeling position on his knees when Pekka threaded his hand through Kaz’s hair.

Elham couldn’t hold back now, moving to aid Kaz. The second her foot stepped forward towards Kaz, the barrel of a pistol pressed itself up against her back. She let out a grumble, letting the heat gather in her palms. Just as she was about to spark a flame, Kaz’s eyes flitted to hers for no more than a second. But a second was long enough. With just one look, she could tell what he was trying to say.

Don’t even think about it.

It was her one and only warning.

“Get her on her knees. I don’t trust her not to pounce like the rabid mutt she is,” Pekka ordered once he saw Elham’s movement.

The man with the gun holstered it, opting to grasp Elham by her shoulders. She gritted her teeth, wanting nothing more than to turn around and scorch his eyes out of his skull. None of the Dime Lions knew of her powers, and it would have been easy to catch them by surprise. But, as if the man could read her mind, he reached down and ripped her arms behind her back, pinning her hands down. She considered fighting, but with one look at Kaz–who was still at Pekka’s mercy–she allowed the man to shove her, reluctantly dropping to her knees.

She watched Pekka like a hawk as he held Kaz up by his hair.

“After I beat you, I’m gonna hang your body on a post as a reminder to anyone who forgets that I’m King of this city. Don’t worry about your girl, I’ll keep her alive. Your Wraith, too. They’re still of some use to me, and they’ve got a debt to pay. But you? You’re nothing. I’ll be glad to watch you rot.”

If looks could kill, Pekka would be six feet deep in the ground. Kaz was seething. His chest was rapidly rising and falling, his jaw clenched. He eyed Elham once more, before glaring back up at Pekka with a snarl.

“Do your worst,” he finally spat.

With a smirk, Pekka’s fist cracked across Kaz’s jaw.

Elham tried not to flinch, wincing at the sound. It took everything in her to stay still as the man behind her kept a tight grip on her wrists. Elham could feel tears brimming in her eyes, beginning to cloud her vision. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to look away. It was excruciating watching Kaz be beat down. She would have looked away if it meant giving herself a moment’s respite, but it was no use. She would still be able to hear every agonizing grunt and groan.

And she wouldn’t abandon him. Not like this.

If it gave Kaz even an ounce of peace to be able to look over and meet her eyes, Elham would give that to him. If seeing her stay strong was enough to give him the strength to endure this torture, then she wouldn’t look away, no matter how much she wanted to.

He deserved that much.

It felt like an eternity, watching Pekka land blow after blow. It has to look real, she kept having to remind herself. All of this effort will have been for nothing if she fucked this up, and she wouldn’t dream of letting Kaz down at a time like this. Not after all he had done to get to this point.

A watery sob was pulled from Elham’s throat when Pekka resorted to kicking.

She finally began to struggle against the grip on her wrists, but the man only tightened his hold. If she wasn’t on her knees, she could have probably slipped out of it. But the angle he was holding her at made it impossible to move, only making her gasp in pain as he twisted her arms. She could hear him chuckling from above her while he held her down.

“Stop,” she couldn’t keep herself from choking out, practically begging on her knees. “I’ll do whatever you want. Please stop.”

Pekka ignored her pleading, not even sparing her a glance. “You can beg for his life all you want, lass. But nothing that you can offer me would make me happier than watching you mourn him.”

He lodged his boot into Kaz’s ribs again, and again, and again. After a while, Kaz could do little more than focus on sucking in air as he took each hit. He had stopped trying to shield himself, letting out broken coughs and shaky breaths. Across the room, Nina was wincing at the sound of every hit, giving Elham a look of sympathy.

“Please!” Elham begged again, getting no answer as Pekka continued his assault.

Suddenly–as if it were a miracle from the Saints themselves–an alarm sounded throughout the city.

The door to the room opened, and a disheveled looking man entered. He quickly maneuvered his way throughout the crowd, shoving people out of his way until he reached the center of the room. He had a look of horror on his face, concerning enough that Pekka paused his attack.

“Boss! Firepox is back.”

“We can all hear the bloody sirens, Edyck,” Pekka said, sounding less than impressed. “Hope you brought more than that.”

Edyck nodded. “Word is it started on the Drakonasha.”

It was happening.

Kaz’s plan had worked. The man behind Elham wavered, his hold on her releasing. His feet scuffed against the floor as he took a shaky step back, standing up straight. Some of the other Dime Lions were doing the same. Pekka stilled, his eyes widening in shock as a chorus of muttering amongst his men echoed around the room.

“Fifth Harbor,” he said in realization.

“Yeah. The Council of Tides shut down the harbor. No ships in or out. Shay said the Menagerie and Sweet Shop both got hit bad.”

In all the chaos, Nina took a small step towards Elham without anyone noticing. She kept her hands up, but pulled them in close to her in case she would have to fight. She kept her eyes peeled while Elham slowly crawled to Kaz’s side.

“Kaz?” She whispered, barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. “Fuck, are you alright? What do you need me to do? You have to let me help you.”

Kaz clutched his side as he forced himself into a sitting position, taking deep breaths. She grimaced at the newly formed bruises, watching the blood seep from the cut that ran along his temple to the top of his cheek.

He said nothing as his eyes locked with hers, and it was like something in him ignited when he saw the fresh tears that had spilled over her cheeks. He subtly motioned for her to stand, silently ordering her to take his lead. Elham watched as he struggled to pull himself to his feet, and she finally gave in, hooking her fingers around the cuffs of his sleeves. She was careful not to touch him, helping pull him up by the fabric of his coat. She let him go as soon as he was upright on his own.

“Sweet Shop?” Pekka asked in confusion, continuing to talk with Edyck. “That’s not near the harbor.”

It was time. Kaz had stacked the pieces of his revenge brick by brick, and it was ready to come crashing down on Pekka’s head. Elham could only hope that it would crush him in the process. Kaz was standing now, placing himself in front of Elham, directly in Pekka’s line of view.

“There will be outbreaks at all of your establishments. And only yours. The path of contagion will be clear. A ship in your harbor spread the disease to your clubs.”

It was quiet for a moment as Pekka clenched his jaw, spewing venom. “What did you do, boy?”

“There’s nothing an island nation fears more than disease. The Merchant Council's going to want a proper investigation.”

Pekka hummed, a subtle rage burning inside him as he pulled his pistol from its holster. He held his hand out behind him, and one of his men placed a bullet in his open palm. He loaded it into the gun as he spoke.

“You’ve got my attention. But you’re not even worth the time it’ll take to put a bullet in your head!”

“Fifth Harbor is shut down,” Kaz said, like the threat of his death meant nothing to him now that he’d won. “Your businesses are tainted.”

The door to the room opened again, but everyone was too entranced by the showdown to notice. Elham carefully glanced over her shoulder to see that Nina had done the same. Jesper had just walked in, still in his costume. Elham could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her shoulders relaxing slightly when his eyes met hers before he cautiously headed to the corner of the room.

“My businesses will be fine. But you?” Pekka spat, cocking his gun and aiming it at Kaz.

“I’d reconsider,” Kaz interrupted, looking Pekka up and down with the faintest of grins. “If you want to see your Kaelish prince again.”

Pekka smirked. “What are you gonna do? You gonna blow it up again? You need to learn some new tricks, boy–”

“Your other Kaelish prince. Fond of sweets, blonde hair…Alby.”

Pekka faltered, his mannerisms becoming more manic and unhinged by the second. He kept his pistol raised, a finger hovering over the trigger as he aimed it towards Elham.

“I’ll warn you now, Rollins. Put that bullet in me, and I’ll haunt you for the rest of your days. I’ll climb right out of Hell and come straight for you. If that’s a risk you’re willing to take, then be my guest,” she said trying to sound as confident as possible, but she knew he could hear the wavering in her voice.

“I will kill everything you love, Brekker,” Pekka spat, keeping his gun aimed at her.

Elham could feel her heart pounding in her chest, dread filling her like ice in her veins. She watched as Kaz hesitated, if only for a moment, before his mask slipped back into place. His eyes darkened, like he was getting ready to call Pekka’s bluff.

“The trick is not to love anything that you can’t live without. Your mistake was that you let someone get in who needs you just as much as you need them. Someone you can’t let go. Someone you’d sacrifice everything for…and it makes you weak.”

Elham knew Kaz thought of getting close to people as a sign of weakness, and it was something he had guarded himself from long before he met her. It took her years to chip away at his cracks, but he finally let her in. He allowed her to see more of him than anyone else could have ever dreamt of seeing.

And now?

Now, she had gotten too close, and forced him to question his own rules. He had become dependent on her. He needed her, and he most certainly couldn't live without her. He was preaching about weakness to Pekka, and yet, he allowed the biggest weakness of all to wiggle her way through the cracks. She had rooted herself under his skin, and when it came down to it, he couldn’t dig her out.

He didn’t want to dig her out.

And he’d rather throw himself back into the harbor and let the sea swallow him whole before he let Pekka fucking Rollins be the one to take her away from him.

“No, I don’t believe you,” Pekka accused, shaking his head. “I’ve seen you fight for her before, Brekker. You can’t let her go, you're not fooling anyone. Would your pride really let you stand by while I killed your Valkyrie? After she was nearly in tears begging me to let you go? Are you that cold, boy?”

Kaz took a different approach, letting his face go blank. Pekka thought her death would hurt him? Then he’d show him just how wrong he was. He shrugged his shoulders, remaining passive. It was eerie how fast he could close himself off.

“You underestimate how far I’m willing to go. If she’s the price I have to pay to watch you fall, then so be it. What else will you have left to leverage against me when she’s gone, I wonder?”

Pekka scoffed in disbelief. “You’re lying–”

“Try me.”

Kaz glanced over his shoulder, locking eyes with Elham. Her eyes were full of hurt, and she was trying her hardest not to let him see it. His face was blank, like the threat of her death meant nothing to him. His expression was unreadable, and it terrified her.

But then his eyes softened on her almost imperceptibly, so subtly that no one but her would have been able to catch it. Even she would have missed it if she hadn’t been looking hard enough. And she immediately knew what he was thinking.

He won’t do it. Not with Alby at risk. Talk him down.

He wanted her to follow his lead, and play the part. After all, that was what they were doing here, just like Nina said.

Acting.

Playing their parts.

“You won’t kill me,” Elham reasoned. “I’m no use to anyone if I’m dead, especially you. I can’t pay off my debt if you kill me, can I? If not for leverage, my life matters to you for that at least. And I can assure you, my life doesn’t rank above Kaz getting his revenge. You’re right in some ways. I can’t live without him…but he is quite capable of living without me. I may be of some value to him, and he may care for me, but that doesn’t change that fact.”

Pekka opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off before he could get a word out. “But let's say it does. Let's say he can’t let me go, and you go and kill the one thing he cares about. If you thought letting me die was cold, imagine how cold he’ll be when the only thing he’s got left to live for is getting his revenge on you.”

Elham smiled to herself as she watched Pekka’s resolve crack. He was running out of time, and he knew it. It was a theory he didn’t want to test, not when everything he held dear was on the line. The risk of killing her wasn’t worth the reward, and he couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger.

Pekka groaned, switching his aim back towards Kaz. “Fine! Then I’ll just kill you, Brekker.”

“Do that, and you’ll never find your son in time,” Kaz mused, clearly satisfied with his victory.

Pekka faltered once more, his face twisting up in pain. “What did you do?”

“I buried him,” Kaz revealed, a devilish grin threatening to appear. “Six feet deep.”

Elham was practically giddy with joy as she watched Pekka squirm. The whole of his world was in Kaz’s hands, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. She remembered Kaz’s words from that morning. Apart from him, she was the only one in the entirety of Ketterdam who knew the true ending of Kaz’s plan.

Out of all of the Crows, she was the one he could trust the most. She would speak her mind freely and tell him when he had gone too far, but her threshold for inflicting pain was much higher than the rest of the Crows. That was either an effect that rubbed off on her from spending too many years of her life with Kaz, or from living through the horrors of her childhood before she ended up in Ketterdam. Either way, there was a darkness in her. And Kaz knew she would follow him into the dark, no matter what.

He confided in her late in the night after Jesper and Wylan returned to the cemetery with the news of Alby’s existence. He needed her help, and she was more than willing to do whatever it took to take down Pekka once and for all. He had taken too much from her and her family for her to give up just because her morals were being put into question.

It was a truly diabolical plan, she had to admit. But it was also a brilliant one, and it had effectively silenced the room. Pekka’s jaw went slack as he processed what Kaz was telling him.

“He went into that box so easily,” Kaz continued, a gleam in his eyes. “Didn’t even cry, until I took this from him.”

Kaz pulled out a little red toy train car from his coat pocket, holding it up for Pekka to see.

Pekka’s face fell, his voice sounding defeated. “Where’s my son?”

“Make smart choices, and you might just reach him before the air runs out,” Kaz advised, flipping the toy in his hand.

“You trifling piece of Barrel trash! What the hell do you want?” Pekka frantically asked.

“I want you to remember.”

“Remember what?”

“A con you ran on two farm boys,” Kaz explained, his tone sharp. “Orphans. A promise to replace the family that they’d lost. You duped them out of everything. They ended up on the street, and they both died…but one of us was reborn.”

Elham frowned behind Kaz as she listened to him tell his story. Despite hearing it in bits and pieces multiple times over the years, it never failed to cause a chill to run up her spine. While she was giving him a look of sympathy, Pekka looked at him in exasperation. He was frantically shaking his head, racking his brain for any recollection of what Kaz was talking about. Kaz scoffed at Pekka’s bewildered face, almost laughing.

“Too many pigeons to remember? Let me help you…Jakob Hertzoon.”

Realization dawned on Pekka as his eyes widened. “That was a long time ago. So, that’s what this is all about? Why you look at me with murder in those shark’s eyes of yours? You were just two pigeons who I just happened to have plucked, and if it hadn’t been me, it would’ve been somebody else.”

“Bad luck for Alby that it was you!”

Pekka finally snapped. He lurched forward, grabbing Kaz by the collar of his coat. He swung him around, pressing him against the wall. He pinned him there as he held the barrel of his gun up against Kaz’s chin.

“You tell me where to find my son!”

His voice was desperate, and broken. It was a tone Elham had never heard from him, and it brought her nothing but joy to hear it. She glanced behind her to see Jesper and Nina, realizing that they were not so happy to hear it. Nina had moved back to stand beside Jesper, and they watched with conflicted faces. It suddenly dawned on Elham that they both thought Kaz was telling the truth.

They thought he had buried an innocent little boy just to get back at his father.

And as much as they wanted to see Pekka suffer, they couldn’t justify going to these lengths. Elham began to feel guilty, wishing there was some way to convey to them that this was all an act. Constantly lying to her friends was beginning to take its toll, and she didn’t know what she’d do if it began to tear away at their relationships. Kaz’s voice pulled her from her thoughts before she could dwell on it any longer.

“It’s a simple trade, Rollins. Speak my brother’s name…and your son lives.”

Pekka huffed angrily, letting Kaz go as he stepped back, pacing in circles. Kaz stood up straight, pushing himself off the wall.

“How about another hint?” He asked, stalking closer. “You called your daughter Saskia. She wore red ribbons in her hair.”

Pekka nodded, taking a breath. “Okay…okay, uh…two boys from Lij. Yeah, you had a piddling little fortune. Your brother, he fancied himself as a trader. Wanted to get rich quick like every other nub who steps foot in the Barrel.”

“I want you to say his name!” Kaz said sharply, growing tired of Pekka’s ignorant rambling. “Come on!”

“I don’t remember his name!” Pekka cried, defeated. “I just want my son. He’s all I have. I’ll give you whatever you want, Brekker. I’m begging you.”

And there it was. The bricks had come crashing down, and they had pinned Pekka to the dirt under the weight of them. He was scared and distraught, a fear inside him Elham imagined was only a fraction of the fear Kaz felt as a young boy when he woke up in the harbor alone. She felt no pity for Pekka, not even for a second. Kaz tilted his head, speaking slowly with clarity.

“Are you?”

Pekka sighed, hesitating. The room was silent as his men watched, waiting for his next move. Finally he gave in, sinking to his knees. The second he hit the floor, looks of pity from his men turned to looks of disappointment and embarrassment. Kaz glared down at him from above in disgust. He finally broke the silence, pulling pieces of paper out from the inside pocket of his coat, showing them to Pekka.

“A confession for the murders of Tante Heleen and Constable Sem. And a quitclaim deed for Inej Ghafa, and Elham Creed.”

He dropped the papers at Pekka’s feet, pulling out a pen. “Sign them all if you want to find your son alive.”

Kaz dropped the pen at his feet, and it clattered on the floor next to the papers. Pekka finally reached for them, scrawling his signature across each. He held them back out for Kaz to take, slowly rising to his feet when Kaz snatched them from his hand.

“Where’s my son?” He asked once more.

“Black Veil Cemetery,” Kaz finally revealed. “You’ll need all your men digging to find him in time.”

Pekka bolted for the door without another word. His men reluctantly followed, filing out behind him. Elham stopped one of the men before he could leave, wrapping her hand around his wrist. He stopped in his tracks, glancing between her and Kaz.

She held her free hand out expectantly. “My sword. Give it back.”

He quickly handed it to her, pulling his wrist from her grip the second she grabbed the hilt. She was content to let it go, reaching behind her and putting it back in its sheath as he left the room, too. Once he was gone, the only people left were her, Kaz, Nina, and Jesper. She moved to close the door behind him, immediately letting out a heavy sigh as she rested her forehead against it. The room was silent for a long while.

“Alright, I’ll go since no one else will,” Jesper eventually said. “Tell me you didn’t bury the kid.”

“No one buried the kid,” Elham quickly responded, pushing herself off the door and moving to stand next to everyone else.

Jesper sighed in relief, pulling the hood of his costume away from his face. “Oh, thank Saints.”

“Where’s Inej and Wylan?”

He shrugged, shaking his head. “I don’t know where Inej is, but Wylan is back waiting for us at the inn. If she’s not there, she knows where to go.”

Elham suddenly felt a slight tug in her chest, turning to Nina with wide eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Slowing your pulse,” she replied, gently moving her hands. “I can feel your heart pounding from over here. You need to calm down, love.”

Elham reached out, grabbing Nina’s hands. “Nina, I love you, but I don’t want to feel you doing that ever again. Like ever…unless I’m dying. Then I give you permission. But otherwise, don’t do it. I’ll just panic like everyone else does, thank you very much.”

“Noted,” she grinned, taking a breath. “Well, I’m exhausted. It’s late. Shall we go?”

“Yes, please,” Jesper said, immediately heading for the door.

Elham smirked, following behind him. “Excited to see someone, Jesper?”

“No,” he quickly retorted, glaring over his shoulder with heated cheeks. “I’m just happy to be getting off Dime Lion turf.”

“Is it still Dime Lion turf if every Dime Lion in the city is currently standing in a plague cemetery while their boss is getting loaded into a wagon headed for Hellgate?” Nina asked, catching up to match Jesper and Elham’s pace.

Elham chuckled, faintly listening to Jesper and Nina banter. Realizing how quiet Kaz had been since Pekka left, she looked over her shoulder to see him following quietly behind. His bad leg was stiff, clearly bothering him. He looked like he had been hit by a train, and from the look on his face, he probably felt like he had. Elham slowed her pace back down enough so that her stride matched his, trailing slowly behind Jesper and Nina.

“Are you alright?” She asked quietly, nervously glancing over at him. “We shouldn’t have left your cane at the inn.”

“I’m fine.”

Elham sighed in frustration. “You’re not fine, Kaz. You’re practically one big bruise.”

“I said I’m fine,” he griped, but his increasing limp said otherwise.

Elham just nodded, letting it go. Jesper had glanced over his shoulder a few times to make sure they were following, but he didn’t seem to be worried about the gap in between them. They had planned accordingly for their trek back to the inn, and he knew that even though he was keeping his eyes peeled, it wasn’t necessary to.

A few people here and there passed them in the street, but that was the extent of the people still out walking the outskirts of Ketterdam. Kaz was relaxed, at least as much as he would allow himself to be, and Elham took that as her sign. When they reached a fork, she turned the opposite way Nina and Jesper had.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking the scenic route,” she joked, smiling to herself when he followed. “There’s less cobblestone this way. It’s a smoother walk.”

He nodded, his voice quiet. “It’s longer this way.”

He was right. It was longer going this route, and it would be even longer because of how slow they were walking so Kaz’s leg wouldn’t hurt any more than it already did. But Elham didn’t mind. Something told her that he needed this time to himself, and she didn’t have it in her to leave him alone. Thankfully, he hadn’t told her to leave him yet.

“I know.”

It was silent for a long while. Not an uncomfortable silence, but a neutral one. Neither had anything they needed to say right this moment, and talking could risk this rare moment of peace. But–seeing as there was still quite a bit to go in their walk–she cleared her throat, drawing his attention.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, not meeting his eyes. “For interrupting. I just…you didn’t tell me that was part of the plan. Having me stand by while he beat you to the ground. It just went on too long, and I couldn’t take it. I’m sorry.”

“You would have protested if I told you. And your reaction wouldn’t have been real. Pekka would have suspected something was happening too early.”

She nodded, fiddling with the sleeve of her coat. “I know that. I don’t blame you for not telling me, but my little outburst almost got us caught when he turned the gun on me. If you had said something earlier, maybe I could have handled it better. Watching him pummel you would have caused a genuine reaction either way. I don’t know, I–I’m just saying sorry anyways.”

Kaz just nodded, silently accepting her apology. They walked in silence for a moment longer, and Elham felt better after getting that off her chest. Kaz, on the other hand, didn’t feel better. He had been debating with himself for the last ten minutes on whether or not he should tell her what was on his mind.

He had almost decided against it, ready to let it go unsaid. But just as he was going to push the thought from his mind, Elham held an arm out in front of him, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

“Let’s go back down the alley,” she said when he gave her a look of confusion. “The rest of the walk this way is uphill, and you’re already uncomfortable. And don’t lie to me, I know you are, so don’t fight me on this. I’m too tired to argue, so please just do it. None of that stubborn shit. Don’t be a martyr.”

He opened his mouth, but closed it when she looked up to him with pleading eyes. Sighing, he turned back the way they came to head down the alley, trying and failing not to see her small smile of victory.

How could he not tell her now?

After she had done something as mundane, yet genuinely thoughtful, as to make him go the easier route. Taking the time to push him to do something beneficial for himself, knowing his pride would have gotten in the way.

If it were up to him, he’d still be following Jesper and Nina.

But here they were, walking the less strenuous route so he wouldn’t have to be in pain all of the next day, which he would have been if he didn’t swallow his pride and listen to her. Walking in silence so he wasn’t forced to say anything he didn’t want to, understanding that she wasn’t expecting him to say or do anything. He wasn’t obligated to say or do anything, and yet, he was finding himself wanting to.

He finally glanced over at her, before staring back straight ahead. “I wouldn’t have.”

She raised a brow, waiting for him to continue. “What?”

“I wouldn’t have let him kill you,” Kaz forced himself to spit out. “He was bluffing, he wouldn’t have done it anyways. Like you said, you’re still of some value to him. He was just trying to call my bluff so I’d give up and tell him where his son was. If I thought for a second he actually would have pulled the trigger, I wouldn’t have let him get that far.”

Elham nodded, quick to speak. “I believe you. You would have said anything to take him down. I know you didn’t mean it.”

Kaz let out a breath of relief, trying to push down the nerves that had settled in his stomach. He felt like he was going to be sick. Like he had said too much. Or maybe not enough, he could never quite tell when it came to her. But Elham was always quick to let him know in some way. And her reaction told him he said enough, and that he could leave it at that.

Soon after, they turned onto the street where the inn was all the way at the end. They had mere minutes left, and Elham mustered up the courage to ask Kaz one last thing. She didn’t know if she would get another opportunity to ask, and she was sure the adrenaline in her body would be gone by the time one finally came.

It was now or never.

“Was what you said true? If I was the price you had to pay, would you have paid it?”

Kaz couldn’t help but look at her, his chest tightening at the look of uncertainty she was giving him. She was putting on a brave face, but she was scared to know the answer. He could tell.

He always could tell with her.

What a question it was. He had spent half his life building himself up to the point where he could finally take Pekka Rollins down. He had hardened himself and let the city turn him into the man he was today. Cold, and unrelenting. There was a point in his life when he would have risked everything he had just for the chance to watch Pekka fall. Day by day, brick by brick, he had dedicated so much of himself to finally get to this moment.

But she was with him.

Elham had been with him nearly every moment of every day since they were fourteen years old. She had seen the worst parts of him, and still stuck by his side to see it through. She had dedicated her own life to helping him take down Pekka and every man like Pekka, so that the Barrel could be a different place. And–as much as he hated to admit it–he had come to rely on her. It was like she was an extension of him, always there when he needed her.

And, oh, did he need her.

So, what was the truth? If she was the price, would he pay it? If it meant living without her, could he do it? He would still have the Crows, but they weren’t the same. They’re family, but not in the same way she’s family. Was it worth it to see the King of the Barrel fall if she wasn’t there to see it with him? Would any of it be worth losing her?

“No, El,” he finally said gently, never more sure of anything in his life. “That’s the one price I’ll never be willing to pay.”

Elham couldn’t bring herself to speak. He was glad she couldn’t. There was nothing left that either of them needed to say. She only gave him a misty smile, nodding. He nodded back, and they both turned their heads straight and walked the rest of the way back to the inn.

–

A/N - Hi! I haven’t updated in a while, I’m so sorry. This chapter is extra long to make up for it! To be honest, I don’t love the outcome of this chapter. I wrote most of it in a lack of sleep haze, but I really wanna get past the Ketterdam scenes, so we’re rolling with it. And there are elements in this chapter I really like, so whatever. I apologize if anything feels too weird or out of character. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I’ll see you soon with another update :)

[sunsburns]

four or five moments

pairing: wade wilson/deadpool x fem!reader

summary: you’re a contracted killer, you don’t care who you kill, just as long as you paid. unfortunately for you, there’s this guy in red spandex who loves to fuck up your job, worse, you’ve killed him four times and he keeps coming back.

—or: deadpool loves to make your job harder than it already is

word count: 2k+

part two

warnings: fem reader, wade being nasty, flirting, sex jokes, violence, deadpool and reader have this old couple dynamic

"Make sure this gets to Chicago with no problem."

You crouch on the ledge of a building, still and patient, your silhouette blending seamlessly with the shadows of the city. The night is cool, and the faint hum of distant traffic mingles with the rustling leaves. A truck is supposed to be arriving at the warehouse any minute now.

You shift slightly, adjusting your position to get a better view. The moonlight glints off the scope of your sniper rifle as you survey the scene below. The warehouse is a hive of activity, with men moving crates and checking their weapons.

One of the men pats his hand on top of a crate, and you follow his movements with your scope, making sure not to lose the target. He says something you can't make out, but it has the rest of his team laughing, their voices a low murmur carried by the night breeze.

Your finger hovers over the trigger, muscles tense and ready.

There are military-grade firearms in every single hand in the warehouse. Bolivar Trask, the man behind this operation, has made sure to buy all the right people. His carefully crafted scheme is set to create artificially intelligent androids to hunt mutant-kind. Tonight is the night the parts from all over the world will be shipped to his laboratory in Chicago, where he will complete the first prototype.

"We are making history," Trask's voice booms through the warehouse, filled with self-righteous fervour. "After today, we will be one step closer to saving humanity from going extinct, from being wiped out from our own planet by the mutant epidemic. Or, let's be honest, it's a pest epidemic."

Your mission was clear and simple: kill Trask and stop the cargo from getting to Chicago. No witnesses.

A truck pulls into the warehouse, its headlights cutting through the darkness. The thugs start to move, lifting crates and loading them into the vehicle.

You figure that’s your cue. As they start to load the truck, you make sure Trask is in your line of sight, his head in the center of your target.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. Just as you’re about to pull the trigger, an elbow jabs into your shoulder, throwing off your aim.

"We have got to stop running into each other like this," a casual, laughing voice echoes behind you.

Your eyes widen in frustration as the bullet skims past Trask's arm, the metal ping echoing in the warehouse. Trask flinches, his eyes darting towards the source of the shot.

The guards’ laughter dies abruptly, replaced by shouts of alarm. Chaos erupts. Men scatter like ants, their military-grade firearms raised high, scanning for the unseen threat. Shadows flicker under the harsh lights, creating a strobe of confusion and panic.

You pause for a few seconds, watching Trask being hustled away by his bodyguards, his precious cargo forgotten in the midst of the panic. The realization that your mission might fail clenches at your gut like a vice. You turn, your glare burning holes through the red and black mask next to you.

Deadpool.

He's staring back at you with a wide-eyed, almost innocent look behind the white eyes of his mask, his legs playfully kicking in the air as he lies beside you on the rooftop. His chin rests on the barrel of his gun as if this were just a casual hangout. "Hey, gorgeous, did you miss me? I bet you've missed me." You can hear the smirk behind his mask, his voice dripping with that infuriatingly carefree tone.

This motherfucker—

Your hand moves on instinct, your blade flashing in the dim light as you dig it into his neck. The blade cuts cleanly, blood spurting as you kick yourself up to stand. You need a backup plan, and fast. "I've killed you," you kick his side, and Deadpool makes a whole theatrical show of it by your feet, choking dramatically while his blood pools on the gravel. "so many—" you kick him again, harder this time, "fucking times. I wish you would just stay dead."

Ever the performer, he lays limp on the ground for a beat or two, as if considering your wish. You let out a sigh through your nose, the brief moment of silence doing little to calm your frayed nerves.

"Really? Nothing? What's it gonna take for a nice guy like me to break into that cold heart of yours?" He sneers, his voice roughened by the wound when you reach down to get your blade back.

He watches you turn away, wiping his blood off before tucking it back into your belt. Your eyes, ever so serious, lock onto the windows of the warehouse. The gears in your mind are turning, calculating your next move. You could break in, get rid of Trask, and hijack the truck before it leaves. Less than an hour at most.

You can't afford any more distractions.

He starts to stand, his hands open wide as if expecting you to jump into them. "Oh, baby, if you think slashing my neck is gonna get rid of me, you better start thinking more creatively 'cause all it's done is turn me on." He makes a great deal of cupping his crotch, meeting your gaze with a lecherous grin, then eyeing you up and down. "That, and this sexy new suit you've got on. Did the League of Assassins get a raise? Black to match your soul, I assume. You're giving Catwoman a run for her money, that's for sure. It's giving, sexy ninja."

Your scowl deepens, "Shut the fuck up. I need to focus on cleaning up your stupid mess."

"My mess?"

"You made me miss."

Deadpool glances at you, then at the building, and then back at you again. "Oh, oh! I see now. You're working. I thought you were tanning. At night. Because that makes sense, you know." He shrugs nonchalantly, and you pull out another gadget from your belt. "Unfortunately for you, I can't let you kill Trask. At least, not yet. I need him for something."

"I don't care."

You shoot a grappling line on the structure above the window and loop the loose end on a solid structure on the rooftop. You pull on it to test its tension, the line taut and secure. With a final glance back at Deadpool, you issue a stern warning, "Stay out of my way."

Deadpool's eyes light up, "Ooohh, you're in full-on gloomy assassin mode right now," he says, throwing his head back in exaggerated delight. "Love it when you stab and threaten me. My favorite kind of foreplay."

You scoff, pushing aside his lewd comments. With a swift, fluid motion, you jump and slide down the line, aiming for the glass window below. The wind rushes past you, a fleeting moment of space before impact. Your feet collide with the glass, and it shatters into a thousand pieces. You grab the frame above you, unhook yourself from the rope, and land gracefully on your feet.

The warehouse is a hive of activity, with footsteps echoing and voices murmuring urgently. You quickly duck behind a stack of crates, the broken glass blending into the cacophony of the bustling space. The shadows become your ally as you move stealthily, eyes scanning the area for Trask.

You spot him ascending a flight of stairs, flanked by two heavily armed gunmen. They disappear into an office overlooking the entire warehouse. You're about to make your move when the sound of gunfire and more shattering glass draws your attention.

A body crashes through the roof, plummeting through crates and scattering debris everywhere. Deadpool, of course. He groans, clutching his side as he tries to stand. "Holy shit! I'm never doing that again."

Instantly, the room is filled with the sound of guns being cocked and aimed. Deadpool raises his hands in mock surrender. "Woah, woah, everybody! Don't you fret, your friendly neighborhood Deadpool is here. I'm one of the good guys. And I'm saving you! You might not know it, but there's a freaky ninja hiding here, ready to blow each and every one of your brains out."

His eyes find yours, a challenge sparking between you. He knows you're there, and he wants everyone else to know too. With no other option, you draw your gun and fire, the bullet finding its mark in Deadpool's head. Blood splatters against the crates behind him as his body collapses with a thud.

Chaos erupts.

Gunmen shout and scramble, their attention divided between the fallen Deadpool and the imminent threat you pose. You spring into action, throwing blades with deadly accuracy. One finds its mark in a thug's throat, and another embeds itself in the eye of a man about to fire a rifle.

Bullets whiz past you, tearing through the wooden crates as you sprint toward the stairs. You drop to your knees, sliding behind a pillar for cover. Your mind races, counting your remaining ammo and hidden blades while estimating the number of enemies left. Sixteen, you reckon, as you reload and prepare for the next assault.

A quick glance around the pillar reveals a barrage of bullets. You toss an explosive their way, the countdown ticking in your head as you sprint toward the stairs. Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen—the grenade detonates, shaking the ground and sending shockwaves through the building.

You race to the stairs, but a shadow falls over you. You block an oncoming sword strike and find yourself face-to-face with Deadpool once more.

"You shot me!" he exclaims, eyes wide with mock hurt. "Right in the fucking head! I thought we had something happen here, peanut. You're starting to hurt my feelings. Now, I seriously need to take you down," he says, drawing his katanas with a flourish. "With maximum effort."

You grab your blade and slash at him, but he deftly dodges, his quick movements a blur. The fight is intense, a deadly dance of skill and agility. Deadpool's taunts continue as you exchange blows, each strike bringing you closer to your goal.

"Baby knife!" he shouts, backing you against a wall and slicing your side. You retaliate, aiming for his open side, but he throws you over his shoulder with a swift maneuver. You recover, rolling to your feet, but Deadpool is relentless. He's a distraction, not your target. You dash toward the stairs, his bullets whizzing past as you kick open the door.

Two gunmen point their weapons at you, but before they can fire, Deadpool crashes into you from behind, sending you sprawling. His breath is hot in your ear as he laughs, "I didn't think you were just standing there, hot stuff. Though, I'm not exactly complaining. Just so you know, that thing poking your ass is not my gun."

You kick him off, stabbing him in the leg with your knife. Drawing two more blades from your boots, you throw them with deadly precision, taking out the gunmen on either side of Trask. With them out of the way, you point your gun at Trask.

"Listen—" he starts, but you shoot his kneecap, silencing him with a scream. He tries to crawl under a desk, but you're on him in an instant. Deadpool grabs your leg, slowing you down. "Wait, wait, wait. Please don't kill him. Listen, I don't want to fight you. I'm a feminist!"

"Get off," you command, aiming your gun at him.

"I'm sorry, baby, I can't let you kill him," he says, pulling out the blade from his leg. Despite the pain, you shoot him again, but he digs the blade into the back of your leg. You cry out, but determination fuels you. Deadpool rises, hands out in a plea. "Please, don't be mad. This hurts me as much as it hurts you."

You yank the knife from your leg, blood dripping down as you go at him again. But Trask's attempt to escape catches your eye, and Deadpool takes advantage, kicking you hard in the stomach. You fly back, rolling across the floor, struggling to regain your footing.

Deadpool laughs as you groan, pushing yourself up. His laughter mixes with Trask's mocking voice. "Seems like I have some one protecting my interests."

You raise your arm, shooting a barbed arrow into Trask's hand. His laughter turns to screams. "I'm not done with you," you rasp, standing tall and facing Deadpool with renewed determination. "Get out of my way."

"I can't let you kill him. Please." Deadpool's voice is desperate as he pulls Trask up, ignoring his cries of pain. He caresses his face, wiping away his tears. "I need his beautiful brain to help me bring back my beautiful face. Trust me, kitten, if you had met me before all this, you'd be all over me."

He's not going to help you," you say coldly. "He hates mutants."

Deadpool hesitates, caught off guard by your words. But he quickly recovers, holding Trask's hand tightly. "Nothing a little light threatening won't fix, isn't that right, my beautiful genius?"

Fed up with his talking, you decide it's time to end this. In a swift move, you draw your gun and shoot Trask in the head. His body collapses in Deadpool's arms, and the masked vigilante gasps, wiping blood off his mask. "You sick, bloodthirsty freak! You just—he just—what the fuck?!"

"Don't fucking follow me. I have shit to do," you snap.

Before Deadpool can react, you dash toward the exit, weaving through the chaos. Outside, you spot the truck Trask arrived in, revving up to leave. With precise aim, you throw a small tracker onto the back of the truck just as it speeds away.

Determined, you set off in pursuit, knowing Deadpool won't be far behind, seeking revenge.

check out part two!

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[extristitiavenit]

That ever so present smug look was present on his face while he let her speak, of course when he’d went to rebuttal with her she had hit him with a sting that he couldn’t even express and was gone before he could register. When one of the men had come up to ask him a question on where he wanted them to put the barrels, his forced calm demeanor changed. “HOW THE FUCK SHOULD I KNOW?” he snapped, his voice was thunderous to let the others know to step the fuck back and make sure they didn’t leave anything in his path. “you dispose of every single barrel used here tonight, you get this shit hidden and you make sure there are no evidence of anything ‘illegal’ do you understand me?” the command in his voice was enough to make them scurry away from him, however now there was nothing for him to take his anger out on except for the car tire… it was looking at him sideways for too long— with one swift kick to the tire, he let a guttural groan form in his throat and rested against the truck in absolute pain from a fractured toe at best.

He at least had the knowledge of knowing he let her know he’d be up pretty early, another foot in mouth moment he’d be thinking of to get himself to sleep tonight. Or alternatively he could use this night in an entirely different context to fall asleep, it depended on if his drive home calmed him down enough to assess what actually happened. “I’ll be back at sunup, if I see a barrel I’ll make sure you never make it through the gates of eden.” He pointed at the grouping of people still standing dumbfounded and traumatized by his erratic behavior before hobbling his way to his car, slamming the door after entry and peeling the holy hell out of there. He’d even managed to pass the deputy that had him all frazzled in the first place, which instinctively he wanted to flip her off or just sideswipe her off the road but he had to be civil. Even despite passing her, it wasn’t illegal because he went the speed limit but the second he was out of her line of sight, he floored it.

The last thing he wanted was her to gloat and give him a ticket, but he didn’t live too far from the baptizing point and by the time the dust had settled in the air he was already in his driveway, locking his brakes up and slamming the door behind him. He was so angry and for what? because she was making sense? How dare her. The steps to his door were hell to hobble up but that’s his own damn fault. Once he was inside he stripped himself of all of his unnecessary garments, vest, belt, boots.. that part he dreaded and he knew that he would have to eventually see the damage, so he didn’t bother taking them off until he’d gotten all the paperwork that he’d need together to slap it on the desk right in front of her smug… very beautiful face. Get your shit together john, she made a fool out of you. The moment the last paper was sat down and ready to go, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and waddled his way up the wooden steps to his room, finally removing his boots to look at the damage and.. actually it wasn’t bad, nothing he hadn’t dealt with before.

It had happened so often that he only had to lean back to his nightstand and grab the medical tape he’d kept handy, tying the effected toe to the neighboring toe then he was up enough to remove the rest of his clothes, grab the bottle of whiskey that he’d brought with him and off to the steamy shower he went. It wasn’t a nightly ritual, but it was one that he felt the need for tonight. How could she be so blaze about calling him a liar straight to his face? Have a blessed night? Half of the bottle was gone and the shower had gotten so damn foggy from the hot water that he just let wash over his body, his skin had reddened from the heat alone but he loved it. The fuck did she even mean by that? Was she mocking his faith? Did she actually want him to have a blessed night? And fuck… that uniform was… really fitting.

Once he’d felt the temperature change from the lack of hot water, he cut all waterflow off and rip the shower curtain up. “fucking call me a liar” muttering to himself, he was wasted. He was carrying an empty bottle of whiskey, talking to himself in the bathroom. “not a single death, you can’t prove it.” Mocking tone attributed to his stupor, he stepped carefully out of the shower and onto the mat in front to catch the water, his eyes trying to focus on the bottle to see if that was whiskey or just water that dripped in. thankfully it was thick glass because he just tossed it into his sink and stammered his way into the bedroom; collapsing onto the bed with the only thing on his mind was setting an alarm before passing out, that way he could still show up early enough to rub it in.

Too Sweet - @ohtheblissx

It was a day like any other for john, the rise and shine grind of stammering out of bed and into his kitchen to use the blender for his morning brew, bliss oil, jimson weed and coffee all ground together with just a pinch of hazelnut for task before he was soon his bouncing and charismatic self. Once the sun had come up, yes he woke before the sun, he had already been clad in a pair of tight skinny jeans, to avoid baggage during baptism and of course he wanted to make sure he looked his best so he had a relatively nice dress shirt, his vest to feel fancier and of course a shit ton of hair gel to keep that mess back in the water. He knew he had a long day ahead, so he grabbed several thermoses to fill his morning concoction for the go and he was out the door, barely beating the morning light.

Most days reserved for baptism had a lot of thought put into it, showmanship, scripts and it was a spectacle to be seen so he knew he had to be at his best. Unfortunately that meant being cracked out of his mind, tearing up the roads of hope county in his beloved car and making an entire ass of himself to the early rising farmers as he’d passed by. Once he was at his usual baptism spot he’d seen his devout workers already hard at work dumping the bliss into the shallow water and creating a natural barrier to attempt to keep it all maintained. He abhorred Faith for her littering, but this was a necessary evil. Eyeroll.

Black boots hit the morning dew-soaked grass beneath his car door, his eyes squinting at the sun beaming over the mountains even despite having his signature shades on, the bliss had made everything so more vibrant. “brothers, sisters.” He sighed out, he was exhausted much like any addict he didn’t sleep much and that attributed to his foul mood, not that he could take it out on any of his followers without joseph reprimanding him. “make sure after you bless the waters you get rid of those containers, and I mean get rid of. If I so much as see a single barrel on the side of the waters west of the henbane.. there will be hell to pay.” He wanted so badly to spit that out more aggressively than he did, but he knew that sometimes people got butthurt and ran back to run their mouths for brownie points, so he settled with clenching his jaw and gesturing for them to commence.

Him on the other hand, he had an entire roster of people who were willing to be baptized and usually they had a few not so willing participants but— today's schedule was cleared. The only thing that he was dreading was the fact that he was expected to be there upon pickup of every participant of the evenings event.

Which meant he had to sit either passenger inside of the van or spend all day driving himself to each location, so to save on gas and his own peace of mind he went with the van. One visit turned into two, minutes turned into hours and as many fake smiles as he had to muster was enough to drive a normal person insane, but john wasn’t normal and he’d spent the entire trip sipping on bliss and taking it easy. Half of the time he was on his phone scrolling aimlessly and trying not to get a boner, but eventually the time had come. They had picked up the final passenger in the van, and the show was about to begin.

Once they had been at the river and everyone had gotten themselves prepared, it was time for John to make his scene. It was only a few minutes before he was about to walk down to the edge of the water when one of his devout followers came up to him to whisper the news, there was a deputy on their way through town and a birdy had heard they were investigating the happenings at Eden’s Gate. There was almost a glint of excitement that washed over him, the dread of monotony was taking a toll on him and this was the spark that he needed to get his motivation back. What better way to have showmanship if you don’t have new fans? Of course part of him halfway expects it to be a yee yee local cop, but regardless of that he was ready to get the baptism on the go. If he could get the majority out of the way before the arrival of the newest victim deputy, it would be a lot less stressful.

[parkersbliss]

Diamonds | K. Brekker

pairing; kaz brekker x female!reader

warnings: cursing, I think that’s it

wc; 2.3K

synopsis: dirtyhands doesn’t need anyone, but he wants you, even if he can’t have you

prompts: 001: “why do you care?” 047: “please just let me in.”

a/n: this went in a very different direction then I planned but I love it??

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

Kaz Brekker was a lot of things.

Emotionally unavailable was one of them.

But you never thought much of it. You didn’t think less of him because of that. Surviving the barrel meant being cold, ruthless, and cunning.

Everyone had to have some dark side to them. It was a given.

But Kaz’s dark side never turned off. He was always in a constant state of brooding, thinking about all the ways the plan could fail or coming up with a new heist.

His brain never shuts off.

You never considered that a bad thing, but everyone has to rest eventually.

But rest wasn’t a word in Kaz’s dictionary. For him, resting meant thinking about other things.

Things that he wanted to forget.

So he busied himself with work, numbers, and other things to push the other thoughts out of his mind. Sometimes they were about Jordie and the harbor, sometimes they were about Rollins or you.

Kaz never wanted to forget you, but he didn’t want to think about you either. About the way, your lips curved up into a smile every time Jesper threw his arm around you. Or the way you throw your head back every time Nina makes a joke, the way you sit patiently with Wylan when he tries to read, the way you train so gracefully with Inej, and the way you make fun of Matthias’ accent.

He wants to push it all out of his mind because he doesn’t understand it. He doesn’t get how he manages to notice every detail about you.

It would cost him eventually, which is why he didn’t think about it. It’s why he tried to busy himself with things that have nothing to do with you.

But sometimes, it doesn’t always work out that way.

It was moments like these where Kaz is in a constant state of don’t fuck up and don’t say anything.

Which never goes in his favor.

The plan was simple, break-in and walk-out. There were three separate sections to the museum, and the event kept everyone pretty busy.

All you had to do was get in, steal a few jewels and then blend in with the crowd for the rest of the night.

It should be easy enough.

You all dress in your best attire, at least, the best attire that wouldn’t slow you down if you have to run. Kaz’s breath hitches in his throat when he sees you. Silky fabric, exposed skin, and all your beauty.

He nods at you as you fall into step behind him.

“You look nice,” You said.

“Thank you. So do you.”

You all find yourself in an ally by the museum as Inej scales the roof for her way in. You know she’s successful when the back entrance pops open, and she leans against the door frame with a satisfied smile on her face; her green dress trails along the floor as you make your way inside.

Bright fluorescent lights illuminate the hallway, and the sound of heels and Kaz’s cane echo down it. Kaz pick locks the three doors with ease, signaling for the groups of you to go in.

Matthias and Nina are responsible for the smaller riches, Inej, Wylan, and Jesper take care of replacing them, and you and Kaz get the big stuff.

The room sparkles with diamonds, almost blinding you. To Kaz, it smells like money. For each piece stolen, the two of you replace it with a cheaper place holder.

By the time anyone noticed, you would be gone.

You grab a ring off a stand, slipping it on and examining it in the light.

Kaz coughs, and you turn to face him.

He holds the most expensive piece in his hand, a diamond necklace.

It’s worth more than a quarter of a million kruge.

“Woah,” you breathe out. The diamonds are arranged in such a way that it sits close to the neck, and looks like small interconnected leaves.

“Wear it,” Kaz said.

“Kaz-”

“You would look… pretty with it,” The last part is barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” You agree, taking the piece from his hands. Your fingers barely brush his gloved ones as you take the necklace, clasping it around your neck.

Then, Kaz steps back. “I think we got most of it.”

You can’t take all of the riches, but you can take enough to make some serious bank. You exit the room, Kaz locking it after, and meet back in the hallway with everyone else. Inej and Nina both drip in equal expenses and gasp when they see your necklace.

“I almost want to keep it,” You said, touching the diamonds.

“It does look stunning on you,” Nina said.

“I’m sure we have enough to keep that piece,” Inej said, gesturing to the jewelry between you all.

“I do not understand the need for stones to prove one’s worth,” Matthias said.

Nina pats his shoulder, “It’s like you Fjerdans and your fur coats.”

"Witch," Matthias mumbled under his breath.

Kaz takes the lead, directing you to the main room. You can hear the sounds of people chattering, classical music floating in the air. You all split into smaller groups, mostly pairs, to avoid detection.

You and Kaz stay towards the center of the room, observing everyone else and waiting till the event ends.

As Kaz’s eyes sweep the ballroom, yours sweep over his face, familiarizing yourself with his features.

He has sharp cheekbones, fair skin, and a pointed nose. His lips are drawn down into the softest frown, and there are bags under his dark eyes. His eyebrow twitches ever so slightly whenever he sees someone he doesn’t like, and he runs a gloved hand through his hair, slicking it back more if it’s possible.

He was beautiful.

After a few more moments of mingling, they prepare to bring the jewelry out on display. You and Kaz back towards the exit, just in case something goes wrong.

The fake one sparkles just the same, and a clear difference can’t be seen. It’s only glass that Wylan had managed to craft by himself.

The servant gulps, taking careful steps with the case in his hand. His hands shake, and as he takes the first step up the stairs, he stumbles.

It shatters.

The glass scatters across the floor, the fake necklace you planted aside does the same, the pieces landing everywhere.

You can practically feel Kaz tense next to you when the crowd gasps; actual diamonds wouldn’t break.

“Don’t move,” Kaz whispers. He makes a hand gesture to the rest of the Dregs around the room that means remain still. “Act just as surprised.”

On any other occasion, it would be easy, but when the original necklace is dangling from your neck, it’s like an open target for anyone with eyes. Murmurs flow through the crowd, but no one pays any mind to the Dregs because you all look like you belong here. They’re looking for the black sheep among the white.

But they all look just the same.

“We will be conducting manual searches,” The guards announce.

“Saints,” You whisper, hand instinctively grabbing the diamonds on your neck.

“Plan B,” Kaz said. He meets Jesper’s eyes across the room, nodding his head, and Jesper smirks. He grabs one of his revolvers, firing a single shot and tucking it away before anyone notices. The crowd screams, everyone rushing to the exits as more shots are fired from various parties (some from Jesper, some from guards, or others who just love chaos).

You all make a run for it, using the main exit where guards were desperately trying to keep everyone in.

You watch Inej slip through with ease, Nina and Mattias next. Jesper gets held up, but he managed to talk his way out of it as Wylan tugs on his sleeve.

You and Kaz are last, taking your time to avoid being pushed in by the crowd. You could run ahead, get out before Kaz, but you don’t.

You stay by his side and maintain the slow pace, even when there’s a quarter of a million kruge hanging from your neck.

As you approach the exit, you’re one foot out when someone grabs your arm.

“I got her!” The guard shouts. He starts dragging you back inside as you try to dig your heel into their foot.

Then, in the span of a second, a cane comes down on his arm, a clear snap ringing out.

You stumble from their grasp, unknowingly using Kaz’s shoulder to steady yourself. He hisses but says nothing more because as soon as you notice, you let go.

“Nina!” You scream as the guards come pouring out the entrance.

It was clear who the target was.

The heartrender holds up her hands, effectively dropping their beat, but you underestimate how many there are.

“Run!” Jesper shouts.

And you do as you’re told. The guards open fire, and you bunch your dress in your hands, running through the streets of Ketterdam. Kaz begins to fall behind, and you slow down your pace.

“Jes, throw me a revolver!”

“What?”

“Throw it!”

Wylan rolls his eyes, fishing the gun from his boyfriend’s pocket and tossing it at you.

“What are you doing?” Kaz said.

“Saving your ass!” You reply.

“I don’t need your saving!” Kaz retorts, glaring at you.

You roll your eyes, “Fine, I’m covering you.”

“I don’t need that either.”

“Kaz-”

“I don’t need you!”

You nod, turning away from him to hide the hurt on your face. “No, of course, you don't."

You fire a single shot at a guard, busying yourself in taking a few out, so Kaz doesn’t get hit. When he’s a good way ahead, you sprint after the rest of the Dregs. You see the tail of Jesper’s coat disappear down an alleyway.

You fire one last round of shots and duck behind it. You move past Kaz, catching up with Jesper and thanking him.

He smiles, bumping your shoulder. “Anything for the lady.”

The slat is in sight, and you sigh in relief, happy to rest and unload all the jewels everyone is dripping in.

You could only imagine the amount of kruge you’d come up with.

Jesper opens the door for the Dregs, and you all practically collapse on the couch. You Nina and Inej are all on one, kicking off your heels.

“I hate heels,” You said.

“You’re telling me,” Inej replied. “Never again.”

Nina shrugs, “Annoying as hell, but they do work in place of a knife every now and then.”

“I am never without my knives.”

“We know.”

Kaz walks past you all, limping a bit worse than usual and going up to his office.

You don’t bother following after him. Instead, you all dump the jewelry on the table.

“Oh, saints,” Inej gasped.

Jesper leans back in his seat, “I think we’re set.”

“You’ll gamble it all away before we even cash it in,” Matthias said as Jesper scoffed.

“It’ll take me at least a few months to lose that.”

“Months?” Wylan asked.

“Like six tops.”

Everyone begins to argue, and you tune them out. You forgot about the most expensive piece hanging from your neck, absentmindedly playing with it. When you remember, you figure the best thing to do with it is give it up to Kaz.

With a sigh, you stand up, the fabric of your dress falling back into place.

You don’t bother knocking on his door, you know you should, but you didn’t care all that much.

“Here’s your necklace,” You said bitterly, dropping it on his desk.

“(Y/N)-”

“A quarter of a million kruge, enough to set you for life. That’s all you need, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Sure felt like it,” You snap.

“I just-,” Kaz sighed, avoiding your gaze. “Keep the necklace.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You don’t?” Kaz asked, eyebrows raised. “I thought you liked it. You should have it if that’s the case.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

You click your tongue, “Keep the fucking necklace, Kaz.”

Kaz curses himself, tugging at his hair. He was making the situation much worse. He didn’t know what to say that wouldn't piss you off. He thought the necklace would be like a peace offering, a sign of his thanks.

It backfired on him.

He’s bordering the line of being cold or grateful. When grateful didn’t work in his favor, he went for the other.

“I want you to have it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Please, take it.”

“It’s worth money. That’s far more important to both of us.”

Kaz shuts his eyes, “(Y/N), please.”

And you know this isn't about the necklace anymore. It never really was.

You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. You were tired of pretending to brush off your feelings. It was killing you. Every time you tried to do something, Kaz pushed you back. You couldn't keep doing this to yourself.

“You either want this, or you don’t. Which one is it?”

“Please,” he said softly.

You sigh, blinking harshly. Your heart hammers in your chest. You take a breath, trying to calm yourself.

“Kaz, I need you,” You said softly, “Please just let me in.”

“I can’t,” He said, voice strained as he fights his demons. God, he wants to, but he's scared. He's scared of pushing you away or hurting either of you in the process. He couldn't go through that kind of loss again.

“I will wait,” You said. “I will wait as long as you need. I just need to know that you’re in this too.”

Kaz meets your eyes. His are glassy as he holds the necklace tightly in his hands, running his gloved fingers over the diamonds.

He could lose you.

And that is far worse than not having you at all.

He slowly peels his gloves off. His movements are slow and deliberate, taking his time. When they’re off, he grabs the necklace and stands up.

You hold your breath as he stands behind you, brushing your hair out of the way. His fingers just barely dance across your skin, but they’re there.

He clasps the necklace, and you turn around to face him.

“Kaz?” You question.

“I need you too, (Y/N).”

“I’m not leaving," You assure him.

“Good. We’re in this.”

“We’re in this.”

[angelicyoongie]

Christmas in abundance

— pairing: hybrid bts x human f!reader — genre: fluff! — word count: 4.5K — summary: If the boys wanted to play Secret Santa, who were you to deny them? Though maybe, just maybe, you should’ve thought twice before adding a penalty to the mix. — a/n: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!! I hope you’ve all had a good and safe time. This Abundance christmas special does not have anything to do with the original story, so nothing that happens here will affect it. This is a little rough, ngl, but that’s what I get for not writing for a month lol. Either way, I hope you enjoy it!! 

"I'm home!" You shake off the lingering cold with a shiver, the warmth in the house wrapping around you pleasantly as you shrug off your coat. You barely have time to slip out of your boots before a body crashes into yours, a pair of strong arms pulling your body flush against a firm chest.

"You're late," Hoseok whines. The dog hybrid tucks his face into your neck with a huff, nose skimming against your throat as he works to cover the myriad of scents on your skin with his own.

"Sorry, I got held up a work," You sigh. "The office wants to do Secret Santa this year, so we had to figure out who would gift who.”

“Secret Santa?” A puzzled expression crosses Hoseok’s face as he pulls back.

“Oh, it’s a pretty simple game many people like to play during the holidays! You draw a random name, buy that person a gift, and then try your best to keep it a secret that it’s you,” You say, a smile tugging at your lips at how adorably confused the dog hybrid looks. The golden tail behind his back halts its quick movement; Hoseok’s head tilting slightly as he takes in your explanation. His eyebrows furrow as he thinks, an emotion you can’t quite place flickering in his eyes before he suddenly breaks out into a big grin, “Can we do it too? It sounds like fun!”

“Of course!” You say. “Just ask the others if they want to do it to? It won’t be much of a game if it’s just us two.” You reach up to gently ruffle his hair, the dog hybrid nearly falling over himself as he tries to lean into your touch.

“I need to go freshen up, I’ll see you guys for dinner?” You let out a soft laugh as Hoseok nods into your palm, a pout forming on his lips as you pull away.

“I’ll go ask them,” He gives you a bright smile before you turn to hurry up the stairs, more than ready to get into some comfortable clothes. Hoseok watches you leave, his smile falling into a frown as you round the corner.

He quickly walks down the hallway, mouth set in firm line as he turns into the kitchen and says, “We have to be secretive Santa’s.” The room grows quiet as six pairs of eyes find Hoseok’s form in the doorway, their stares a mixture of apprehension and bewilderment at the sudden declaration from the dog hybrid.

“What?” Namjoon sputters.

“Are you okay, hyung?” Taehyung rushes forward to place his hand against Hoseok’s cheek, his fox ears pinned to his head in worry.

“Did you hit your head?” Yoongi leans against the counter with a faint smirk, his dark tail swishing playfully behind his back as Namjoon shoots him a sour look. Hoseok only gives Yoongi a huff in response before he gently removes Taehyung’s hands from his face, pressing a soft peck against his palm at the worried expression on his packmate’s face.

“I’m fine Tae,” Hoseok assures him. “Y/n told me about a game humans play during the holidays. They draw a random person and have to gift them something, and since she’s playing it with her co-workers, we obviously have to play it too. We have to give her the best gift.” Looks of understanding flashes across the other hybrids’ faces, and Namjoon lets out a hum of approval at his packmate’s quick thinking. They can’t have their courting be upstaged by a human.

“But it has to be a secret,” Hoseok’s words are met by a displeased hiss, Jimin narrowing his eyes at the dog hybrid. Yoongi places his hand at the back of Jimin's neck, giving him a comforting squeeze as he says, “Well, it doesn’t really matter who gives her the present, right? As long as whatever we give is better than what the human gives her.” Jimin looks like he wants to protest, but a quirk of Yoongi’s brow in his direction settles him quickly, the younger cat hybrid leaning against his alpha with a defeated pout.

“What about the rest of the presents?” Jeongguk’s soft voice takes them all by surprise, the bunny hybrid hardly ever speaking up when they’re all together in one room. Jeongguk keeps his eyes trained on Hoseok, trying his best to ignore how his body grows more and more tense for each second as the attention shifts to him.

“Uh, I guess the rest will just gift each other something?” Hoseok clears his throat, heat creeping up the back of his neck as he finds himself pinned under the bunny hybrid’s big questioning eyes.

“Boring,” Jimin mutters. As Yoongi’s gaze narrows at his packmate, Seokjin hurriedly adds, ”If it’ll make Y/n happy, then I’m in.”

“Me too,” Jeongguk murmurs.

“Me three!” Taehyung grins.

“Sure, we’re in too,” Yoongi waves them off, his hand still tight on the younger cat hybrid’s neck.

“Fine,” Jimin sighs. Namjoon rolls his eyes with a faint smile as Jimin’s tail betrays his indifference, the younger cat hybrid obviously excited at the prospect of receiving a gift judging by the excited flick the end of his tabby tail does. “So we’re all in then,” Namjoon says.

“Great!” Hoseok beams, “I’ll go tell Y/n.”  

❅ 

You grab another box, wobbling slightly as you take your first step down the ladder. You can’t believe it’s almost Christmas already. The last weeks have passed by in a blur of important court cases, and aside from greeting the boys when you leave and come back home from work; you haven’t had any spare time to spend with them. You feel bad. Not only because you miss them, and you know they miss your company too, but also because this is your first Christmas together, and you had wanted to make December as magical as possible. But, thanks to all the late nights you pulled at the office earlier in the year, you’ve earned yourself some extra days off. So, while you might not have been able to make all of December an adventure for them, you’re going to try your hardest to make the next three days leading up to Christmas Eve as fun as possible.

“Hey Namjoon, can you help me with this?” You call out over the boxes stacked in your arms, gritting your teeth as you try to make it down the attic ladder in one piece. Maybe you only should’ve done one at the time, but where’s the fun in that? There’s nothing quite like the idea of falling and breaking a bone to really get the Christmas spirit pumping through your veins.

You let out a sigh of relief as heavy box on top is removed, but the sight that greets you over the cardboard wasn’t one you were ready for. The wolf hybrid has a sweet smile on his face, dimples on full display as he easily hefts the box under his arm. It’s just so domestic that it makes your heart skip a traitorous beat; almost making you miss the last step as you stumble down into the hallway.

“You okay?” Namjoon takes a step closer as he looks you up and down, his free hand reaching for your arm in case you feel unsteady on your feet.

“I’m fine!” You wince inwardly at the high pitch of your voice, plastering on a strained smile as you try to get a better grip at the decorations in your arms. 

“Just, you know .. excited for Christmas!” You barrel past him before he can see the flush creeping up your neck. As you hurry down the stairs, you can’t help but mentally curse yourself for how just seeing Namjoon holding a box and looking cute manages to short-circuit your brain. How the hell are you supposed to survive seeing the rest of the boys decorating the whole house?

❅

“Yoongi, that’s not ..” You bite back a laugh as the cat hybrid ignores you, practically folding himself in half to make sure he fits inside the empty cardboard box. You watch as Yoongi gets up and sits back down, folding his limbs this way and that way until he’s happy with his position.

“What?” He glares in your direction when he notices your amused stare, his tail puffing up defensively as you shake your head.

“Nothing. It’s cute,” You giggle. You turn before you can see the faint flush in Yoongi’s cheeks, the cat hybrid sinking down lower in the box to hide how pleased he is at your comment. You open another box, pulling out the rather tiny assortment of tinsel and garlands you’ve saved over the last years. It might have taken up a lot of room in your old apartment, but you doubt it’ll be enough to decorate past the first floor in this house. You do have time to run to the store and get some more, but even just imagining the crowds doing all their last minute shopping makes you want to shudder. It’ll just have to do this year.

“Hyung, I need those,” You hear a soft grumble from the couch as Jeongguk pushes Seokjin away from the nearly empty popcorn bowl, the hamster hybrid making a discontent noise as it’s moved away from him. The popcorn and cranberry string is looking a little short considering how much you gave them earlier, but you quickly realize the problem when Seokjin turns in your direction. He’s storing his snacks.

The hamster hybrid’s cheeks are so puffed out you’re honestly surprised he can even close his mouth. You stifle your laughter as you turn your attention back to the tinsel, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. It’s honestly adorable, but you know the boys can get embarrassed over instincts they can’t control, so if it’s something as harmless as eating popcorn and taking up residence in a box, you’re more than happy to pretend you haven’t seen anything.

“Hobi, can you help me with this?” You call over the dog hybrid, gesturing to the tinsel. You’re sure it’ll go much faster putting it all on the tree if you’re two people doing it.

“Sure!” Hoseok grins.

“If you go stand on the other side of the tree, we can just pass it back and fourth,” The dog hybrid easily follows your instructions, and you’ve already gotten the tinsel wrapped around the tree a few times before it abruptly stops. You frown, giving it a few tugs in case it got caught on the wrong branch, but it’s not moving. You peak around the tree, confused as to why it’s stuck when you have so much length left, but the reason becomes apparent when you find Hoseok’s hand tightly wrapped around the glittery garland.

“Hobi?” You give it a small tug, and the dog hybrid only smiles sheepishly in response as he immediately tugs back.

“Sorry,” Hoseok whines as he pulls his hand back again, the golden ears on top of his head drooping. “I didn’t let go of the tinsel before you pulled and ..” Ah. You let the garland go slack in your hands, and the dog hybrid only stares at the glitter for a few seconds before his grip loosens as well. His instincts thought you were playing tug of war. “Sorry,” He repeats.

“Hobi, it’s fine! I really don’t mind. Maybe we can play some actual tug of war later if you want to shift?” You offer.

“Really?” You can see the uncertainty still lingering in Hoseok’s eyes, but the tail behind his back can’t help but do a few excited wags.

“Of course. We can go outside the moment we finish decorating,” You grin. Hoseok’s face lights up, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he gently nudges you out of the way, taking the tinsel out of your hands. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone decorate a tree that fast, the dog hybrid practically vibrating with excitement as he shoves a container of ornaments into Jimin and Taehyung’s hands.

“Hurry, hurry,” Hoseok mutters as he throws a look at Namjoon, confirming that the alpha is stringing lights above the window like he's supposed to.

“Right,” You smile, grabbing the closest ornaments to hang them on the tree. You let your eyes drift around the room as you place the first ornament, your chest almost feeling like it’s going to burst with fondness as you see all the hybrids look so focused on their different tasks. It’s moments like this where it’s easy to forget all the arguments and nasty behaviours that have transpired between the packs. You’re not gullible enough to believe that it’ll just be smooth sailing from here on out, but can you always hope. That’s what Christmas is for, after all.  

❅

“Okay! Is everyone ready?” You say, taking your place on the floor in front of the pile of Secret Santa gifts. You honestly feel like you’re going to roll away on the floor if you happen to topple over, your belly full and sated with all the delicious Christmas foods you’ve eaten over the last hours. Jeongguk and Jimin are the first ones to reach your side, each taking up the space next to you as the others settle down in a circle. You’ve been collecting gifts from all over the house, trying your best to keep the whole game as anonymous as possible. You’re about to reach out for the first gift when you remember something you used to do with friends when you were younger, something that make the game a little more exciting.

“Boys, how do you feel about adding a punishment to the game?” Jimin and Hoseok both sit up a little straighter at your words, all the hybrids snapping to attention. The three alphas all share a look, a weird glint in them you haven’t seen before.

“Punishment?” Jeongguk stiffens as the air in the room grows heavier. Maybe that was a poor choice of words.

“Oh no, I meant like a .. penalty? Like if the receiver can figure out who their gift is from, then the giver has to do a penalty?” You say, placing a comforting hand on the bunny hybrid’s knee.

“A penalty is fine,” Jeongguk says, beginning to relax under your touch, “but what would it be?”

“How about the receiver decide the punishment?” Taehyung offers, a lazy smirk on his face as he leans back on his hands, “Wouldn’t that be fair?” You know the fox hybrid always tries to win by whatever means necessary, and that it usually spells trouble for you, but it’s Christmas Eve, so if there was ever a day to indulge Taehyung, this would be it.

“Sure. I don’t mind if the others are okay with it,” You shrug. There’s immediately a small chorus of agreement, and you take that as the go to give out the first present.

“First one is .. Seokjin!” The hamster hybrid takes the present from your hands cautiously, the room falling silent as he unwraps it. Hoseok snorts as he sees the item, the furrow between Seokjin’s eyes disappearing as soon as it shows up.

“Shampoo,” He announces.

“Well?” You prompt when the hamster hybrid places the item behind his back and out of sight, “Who do you think it’s from?” You swear you see the quick flicker of Seokjin’s gaze to Jimin, but it happens so fast you can’t be sure. The cat hybrid still has an easy smile on his face, and there’s nothing in his face that gives him away if he was the one behind Seokjin’s gift.

“I have no idea,” Seokjin shakes his head. “Let’s move on to the next one?”

“Sure,” You try to shake off weird feeling in your gut as you pick up the next gift. There’s no reason for them to pretend they don’t know who gifted them their presents, you must still be stressed after the intense week of work you had before your days off.

“Let’s see .. Namjoon!” The wolf hybrid gives you a bright smile as he takes his present, the grin never leaving his face as he rips through the paper. You notice the bunny hybrid stiffening next to you as Namjoon sees his present, his gray ears twitching slightly.

“A comb,” Namjoon waves it in the air quickly, the motion almost a blur as you only pick up the dark colour before he places it between his crossed legs. The wolf hybrid’s gaze scans quickly around the group before he shrugs, “No clue who it’s from though.”

Jeongguk lets out a small breath of air next to you, and when you think about it, didn’t that blur look similar to the comb the bunny hybrid uses for his ears? Before you can open your mouth to ask, Jimin hands you the next present with a sweet smile. Normally, that would put your worries at ease, but the lazy swishes of the tabby hybrid’s tail just makes you more suspicious. They’re definitely up to something.

The feeling only grows as you work through the presents. The boys casually hide their gifts before you can get a good look at them, and they somehow never know who the giver is, despite it being glaringly obvious whom it’s from with how the other hybrid perks up when their gift is unwrapped. You can’t figure out who gifted you the customized ink pen either, although Namjoon looked particularly proud when you couldn’t wipe the shocked smile off your face.

“This is just what I wanted!” You say. You think you might have mentioned it in passing a while back, but you never expected someone to actually remember it.

“Is it a better Secret Santa gift than the one you got at work?” Hoseok asks. The dog hybrid looks a little anxious, his canines digging into the soft flesh of his lips as his gaze shifts between your face and the gift in your hands.

“Of course it is! Soo-hyun got me an ugly Christmas mug she knew I would hate,” You snort, “There’s no way it could beat this!” You look down at the pen again, just missing the shared expression of relief that crosses the boys’ faces as you admire the sleek black and silver design.

“Anyway, let’s move on to the next gift!” You say. “It’s for .. Yoongi!” You hand the second to last gift to the cat hybrid, Yoongi’s sharp nails slicing through the paper with no trouble.

“A book, wonderful,” He smirks before he places it behind his back. You frown as you see the cover that is all too familiar, is that the book your aunt gifted you those years ago? The heavy atmosphere is back in the room as eight pairs of eyes shift to the last present on the floor. You swallow thickly, trying your best to school your features into something neutral. It’s your gift. And there’s no way you’re going to let him figure out it’s you, not when you were the one to come up with the penalty in the first place.

“Me!” Taehyung exclaims with a boxy grin as he picks up the last gift, his slender fingers carefully opening the paper. The fox hybrid lets out a delighted gasp as he uncovers the console games, his tail swishing wildly behind his back in excitement.

“Thank you Y/n!” Taehyung’s eyes sparkle as he meets your gaze, and the “You’re welcome!” tumbles out before you can stop it. You wince as something mischievous settles in Taehyung’s handsome features, the fox hybrid looking pleased with himself that you managed to slip up.

“How did you know it was me?” You groan.

“You have a tell,” Taehyung says.

You have? .. Crap. “What is it?”

“It’s a secret,” The fox hybrid smirks. Secret Santa was definitely not a hybrid game – the boys had come to realize that as soon as the first gift was handed out. The presents reek of the giver, but of course, that’s not something your human nose would be able to pick up.

“Fine,” You pout, tracing your finger over the pen in your lap, “What’s my penalty?”

The fox hybrid’s face grows serious as his gaze shifts around the room, searching for something to use as your punishment. You can’t help the way your stomach flips with nerves – or is it maybe excitement? – as you wait for him to figure it out. If it’s one thing you’ve come to learn, it’s that these boys are never predictable. Taehyung’s orange ears perk up as his eyes suddenly catch on an item, and Yoongi lets out a low hiss as he follows the fox hybrid’s line of sight. You barely have time to blink before Taehyung springs to his feet to grab your hand, dragging you along with him over to the living room entrance. You suck in a surprised breath as you find yourself standing directly underneath the mistletoe, Taehyung’s hand warm around yours as he gently pulls you a step closer.

“Only if you want to,” He says. Taehyung’s low murmur soothes the nerves prickling under your skin, the obvious fondness on his face easing your fears. The problem isn’t that you don’t want to, it’s that you do. And not just with Taehyung, but with all seven of them.

“It’s okay,” You hesitantly place your hand on Taehyung’s shoulder, the fox hybrid’s muscles jumping under your touch. You spare a glance back the rest of the boys when you notice just how silent the room has become, a flush creeping up your cheeks as you find all six of them staring at the both of you with an intensity you haven’t seen before. You quickly turn your attention back to Taehyung, the fox hybrid’s eyes fluttering shut as you begin to rise up at the tip of your toes.

You ground yourself in Taehyung’s firm grip around your hand, the fox hybrid’s warm breath spilling across your mouth as you lean in closer. Your aim is a little off, the lush dark lashes across Taehyung’s cheekbones distracting you enough that the kiss that was meant for his cheek, ends up at the corner of his mouth instead. When you pull back, you find Taehyung’s wide sparkling eyes already trained on your face, the fox hybrid gazing at your reverently for a few seconds before he dives down to bury his face in your neck.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” You let out a choked giggle at Taehyung’s words, stroking his back affectionately as he tries his best to rub your shared scent back on your skin.

“Me next,” You nearly jump out of your skin as you find Hoseok standing next to you, the rest of the boys lined up behind him with sheepish smiles.

“I thought this was supposed to be a penalty?” You quirk a brow, gently untangling yourself from Taehyung as the dog hybrid begins to move impatiently in place.

“Kissing Taehyung is just nice, it’s not a penalty unless you do it to all of us,” Hoseok whines. You catch Jeongguk nodding his head behind Yoongi’s shoulders, his long ears flopping from the force. Well, you think, what’s the harm?

“Fine,” You usher Taehyung over to the couch, turning back around to face Hoseok. “One mistletoe kiss coming right up.” The dog hybrid practically vibrates out of his skin when your lips touch his cheek, and he doesn’t waste any time mixing his scent like Taehyung had once you pull back.

You can see Namjoon’s silver tail wag behind his back as you place both hands on his shoulders, needing a little extra boost to reach his cheek. A dimple blooms where you delivered a soft peck, and Namjoon briefly touches his cheek against the top of your head before he joins his pack on the couch.

Jimin steps up next, placing his hands behind his back as he offers his cheek with a playful grin. “One penalty please,” He says.

“Of course,” You place your hand on Jimin’s jaw, holding him in place as you kiss his cheek. You catch the slight disappointment in the cat hybrid’s eyes as you pull back, but the gentle touch of your fingertips tracing his jaw is enough to wash it away. Taehyung might be the fox, but Jimin is by far the slyest when it comes to getting what he wants.

“Not yet,” You murmur, taking a step back. Jimin nods, his eyes filled with warm understanding as gently rubs his cheek against your shoulder before he lets Yoongi take his place. The alpha regards you with hooded eyes as you peck his cheek, a faint purr spilling from his chest as he rubs your mixed scent against the opposite shoulder. The soft fur on his ears tickle your throat, and the cat hybrid offers you a low thank you before he steps away.

“You okay?” Jeongguk’s cheeks are bright red as he takes Yoongi's place, but the bunny hybrid hurriedly nods in response. You can almost feel the jittery energy coursing through his body as you step closer, Jeongguk inhaling sharply as your lips make contact with his skin. The bunny hybrid shyly takes your hand in his, bringing it up to rub your wrist against his freshly kissed cheek. Jeongguk hurries off before you can say anything, his tail twitching rapidly behind his back as he joins the rest.

Seokjin has a fond look in his eyes as he steps closer. The hamster hybrid leans down slightly, just enough that his mouth graces you ear as he murmurs, ”You took your punishment well.” You feel plush lips against your cheek before Seokjin pulls back, a knowing smile spreading across his face as your fingers trace the spot he kissed. You stand there a little stunned as Seokjin joins Jeongguk on one of the couches, praying that the hamster hybrid didn’t notice the shiver that bolted down your spine at his words.

You awkwardly clear your throat as you realize they’re all waiting for you to join them, gesturing over to the TV as you say, “Do you want to watch a Christmas movie?” 

You let the boys argue over which movie to watch, quickly putting on your old copy of Home Alone once they’ve decided. You squeeze into the spot between Yoongi and Namjoon on the couch, the two alphas shifting closer the moment you’re settled; their sides flush with yours as you press play on the movie.

As the minutes begin to trickle by, you catch yourself watching the boys more than the colourful screen, a pleasant and comforting warmth spreading through your body as they laugh and giggle at the funny moments. Truthfully, the seven hybrids fill a space you hadn’t even realized was empty. And now – sitting here in your cozy living room with lights twinkling all around, you don’t think there’s anything else you could ever want.

You already have it all right here.

[kyberphilosopher]

Reverse Flash

A backwards version of your favorite speedster comes searching for Barry, only to find you instead. 

Word Count: 2403 Warnings: Crude Humor. Not proof read yet because I’m too tired. 

As per my latest fics, the gender of the reader is not specified. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Barry was always nice to you.

Well, Barry was nice to everyone. I mean, his parents named him Barry. He was set up for a life of cheekiness before he was even born. But Barry was nice to you even after ‘the incident’. Barry was nice to you when everyone else stopped. On top of that, Barry was being nicer to you than usual lately.

Probably because he and Iris were having a rough spot.

That was the only annoying thing. Barry liked you, and he was interested in you, but you were still second place. He was just using you. He wouldn’t marry you, or feel a deep longing for you. He’d just take you on ice skating rink dates in the winter and give you the best Valentine’s day of your life every year. Which is everyone’s dream, you guess, but it wouldn’t have been genuine, no matter what Barry managed to convince himself.

Barry’s little support team seemed to be on the same page as you (which was a first), which both added to and subdued your aggravation. All of them were in agreement of the simple fact: you were no good for Barry. Mr. Flash was the only one who didn’t seem to get the memo.

In the very beginning, things weren’t like how they were now. Team Flash or whatever the name was considered you good colleague, and they trusted you because Allen trusted you. You had been friends with Barry longer than anyone else there. And of course you were smart, and you handled annoying journalists and incriminating footage like it was nothing. But then you’d suggested using lethal force to subdue one of the Flash’s biggest problems. That’s when the air changed. That’s when people decided you should not now, not ever go on a date with him. It would throw off the whole rhythm of the team, probably Barry’s morals and possible the timeline. Lucky you.

Though flat out rejecting Barry might make it worse. You had been irritable lately. Maybe a little more sarcastic than normal. What if you snap, and then the team snaps too? And sweet little Barry is too kind to tell you off? God, you knew you were the worst, but the thought alone seemed like more than just ‘the worst’. It was like a tornado of stinky shit just barreling toward you, somehow simultaneously faster than the speed of light and slower than a turtle filled with rocks for organs.

And it was all definitely Barry Allen’s fault.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

So, that’s why you’re here now. Stuck with watching Headquarters while all the speedsters go out and... speed. Who knows. You’re out of the loop with the whole... speed demon thing. You’re pretty sure they have a group chat without you. Fuckin’ nerds.

Your legs are stretched out to the desk in front of you. They cross over each other at the ankles, to the left of the big computer monitor that’s supposed to display the heartbeats of the team but is instead displaying something from cartoon network. A near empty bag of Chinese food sits at your side, it’s contents littered across the table.

As you chew, you look around the room. Several suits in display cases curve against the wall in a half circle, illuminated by blue light. Some are burgundy, some are silver, and some are golden. And you could smash every single one of them right now.

But you won’t, and you don’t. Not to say it isn’t tempting- it is. You still don’t touch the suits. 

God, what’s been wrong with you recently? Barry was your friend, and yet you’d been so annoyed with him. His flirting had only made it worse. Wally wasn’t any better. He got even more annoying once thinking about how childish, yet powerful he was. All the Kid Flash’s were just temporary brats that never stayed, whether you  liked them or not. And Iris wasn’t a fan of you. That was fine, because you weren’t exactly a friend of Iris’s either. So the most important part of your life that literally depended on superhuman existence and stopping crime was teetering because of pure social discomfort. Typical.

You’re watching the screen that serves as the closest light in the room as you shovel the next bite of rice between your lips. Neon colors make the shadows across your face feel alive and electric. It makes the glow in your eyes more prominent, encouraged by the childish nature of the media. You’ve just finished a snarky personal comment and given yourself another bite of rice when he appears to you.

He looks like Barry. The only difference is that he’s the complete opposite.

Instead of scarlet, his speed suit is yellow with red and dark grey accents. They remind you of blood lightning at the seams. Even under his half mask, he seems so familiar but so much more defined than your friend. As he exits the slice of colorful air and thunder, the heels of his shoes skidding across the floor, the red glow in his eyes settles into a calmer thrum.

And you’re still frozen in place, eyes wide as you still yourself mid chew.

The yellow speedster settles his orbs on you. They’re intelligent, and in the reflection of the little light in the room you can see they’re not red, but blue. And you? You’re just a deer in the headlights. 

“Aw, you’re not Barry,” he groans in disappointment, standing straighter as his arms cross over his chest. 

You finally continue your chewing, keeping your wide eyes on the intruder. Then you swallow it down. In your chest, your heart thump, thump, thumps with something. Fear? Not quite. Anxiety? Almost. It’s something else. Something more... intuitive. And the way this man looks at you makes you think that he can hear it, even from where he stands. That he knows.

“Uh... no?”

The man responds not a millisecond after you’ve gotten the words out. “Where is he? Where’s Barry Allen?”

Woof. His voice is throaty and laced with sarcasm, even though he’s clearly deathly serious. But the vibrations send a funny spasm straight to that little place between your legs, making the nerves in your spine dance with alertness. Arousal. Barry was never able to do that, let alone with just the sound of his voice.  

“Doing something?” you decide. “I don’t know.”

The golden man cocks his head to the side, almost smirks, and takes a step forward. “Hey, I know you.” His arms uncross. One raises and bends to point at you. “You’re Barry’s tech support. I remember reading about you in his museum.”

Your brows furrow. Hurriedly, you clear the take-out box from your lap and begin wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You drop your legs from their position on the desk to their normal position on the floor, knees bent. “Uh... I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah... Y/N L/N. Now I see it.” The man leans back on his heels and looks around the room. The red glow in his orbs burn away completely so it’s just him. “Ah, so this must be before you defected, huh? Interesting.”

“Pardon?!” you call again. Now you’re sitting forward, disbelief across your face. 

Golden speedster smiles. It looks evilly distorted, even though it’s just a normal smile. It curves his face sarcastically. His hands fly upwards as if in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger, Y/N. You know actually, you’re kind of a villain in my time. This is nice for me.”

“Great, I’ll tell Barry when I see him,” you bite.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Now how about you tell me where Barry is before I erase you from existence.”

“I don’t know,” you repeat as the quick bolt of fear fizzles from your system. Your eyes trail down to his chest for just a quick second, but it’s quick enough to observe yet another difference between your familiar scarlet speedster and him. The circle surrounding the lightning bolt on his chest is facing the opposite direction, red, and that circle is filled with black. It’s as if he were the complete opposite of Barry. A reverse Barry. 

“Yeah you do. Come on.”

You blink once, still in your roll-y chair. 

You’re not sure what to do here. On one hand, this guy radiates pure evil. You should really alert Barry or one of the other members of Team Flash. But for one reason or another you’ve made no attempt to. You’ve got no clue who this dude is other than the fact that he seems more inclined to rip the fabric of time apart than anyone else. There’s no doubt in your mind he really will erase you from existence if you make one wrong move. But what’s the wrong move?

On the other hand, Team Flash has been a bunch of dickhead’s to you. Barry has been ironically slow to the whole thing. Would it be so bad if you did make a wrong move? Not for you, but for your friends? They’d all die, wouldn’t they? This yellow one would end them, and then what? Would it really be so horrible for you? You can’t imagine mourning much.

“I don’t,” you say again, slowly. “They’re in the city. I don’t know where.”

The man seems to think for a moment, cocking his head back so the light behind the glass cases catches his sharpened features. “Hmm.”

Without even blinking, now he’s in front of you. So close, you can smell him. It’s not terribly strong, it’s just masculine. But it’s also flowery, with a dash of sweat from running. And then there’s something more. Something... metallic? 

Both his hands clutch the arms of the chair beside you, trapping you as you lean back reflexively. “Did you know that I killed Barry’s childhood best friend before he was born?” the man says lowly. 

On instinct, you prepare yourself to say, ‘Barry doesn’t have a childhood best friend’. Then you realize why. 

He continues. “Would you tell me where Barry was if you did know?”

You don’t even think about it. You’re true to your nature. “I don’t know, would I?”

Blip! You wait to burst into a cloud of nothingness. To never have been born or even get to be a ghost. But fifteen seconds later you’re still alive. And from the way Barry talks about being a Flash, fifteen seconds is a long time for someone of that caliber. 

The man is back by the cases of suits now. You can see his muscles through his suit. They’re more defined than Barry’s, thank God. 

“I think you would. But it’s gonna be hard to do that when you’ve got my fingers vibrating into your skull.”

“What?”

“It’s going to be hard to speak when my fingers are inside you.”

You cup a hand against your ear. “Huh?”

“I said-” The man stops. His eyes narrow, arms crossing over his chest once more. “Oh, I see.” A short, dry- but genuine- laugh falls from his throat. “Very funny. Very, very funny.”

Suddenly, your eyebrows crease together in confusion. You place both palms on the arms of the chair for leverage as you push yourself into a stand, as if stirred by some great, important purpose. “Wait. Did you say you were going to stick your fingers inside me?”

“I knew you and I were the same,” he drawls. He sounds entertained. As if in his eyes, missing Barry and meeting you instead was the best outcome he could’ve hoped for. 

“Can’t you just...” Your shoulders slump as you glance around. “Just kill Barry and get on with it?”

“Aw, no. This is far more interesting.”

“Fingers in my skull...?” you whisper, half to yourself. Then you look up to him with a snap. “You are so weird,” you tell Reverse Barry, emphasizing it with a low point. “So weird.”

“Want me to tell your future?” 

Again with the voice and the nerves in that special place. 

“I gotta say, it’s kind of disturbing,” the man smirks. “You’ll love it.”

“Weird.”

Across the base, just two hallways away, something clicks. It’s a familiar click. It’s the click of the door opening. 

Quickly, you glance backwards, then lean down to pause the show on the computer. You hadn’t even realized it was still going. Once that’s done, the man is still standing in front of you. That sinister and yet innocent grin is still dancing across his face, though his steely eyes are totally locked on you. 

“What, weirdo? You know where he is now. Aren’t you gonna go get him?”

“You want me to so badly, don’t you?” Reverse Barry whispers. You just give him a look. 

“I’ll be back for you.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

And then the speedster is gone. Right on time, too, cause Barry jogs into the room not a second later. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you turn around. 

“Did I just... see someone here?” Barry points towards your end of the room in his scarlet suit. Huh. Reverse Barry was taller too. 

“What are you on about?” you throw casually. “Nobody’s been here but me since you left.”

“Are you sure?” the Flash keeps pushing. You hate it. Pushing. 

“Yes, Barry,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure. Oh, by the way, Barry. Did you have a childhood best friend?”

Barry frowns. “No, why?”

You smile to yourself as you turn back away from him. The other speedster’s footsteps are coming closer and closer. You can hear them echo off the walls. 

“No reason,” you answer with a smirk just as one of them enters the room, probably to give you crap again.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Fun fact, Reverse Flash is actually my favorite villain in DC comics. Bro is vicious in the comics. I just hate all the live action versions of him we get. Lego DC Villains Reverse Flash and Injustice 2 are the best versions. Injustice 2 is my personal preference. I’d like to do more with this but, who knows. Depends how this is received. #lol

[persephones-wren]

heyy! Could I request a Kaz brekker and reader fic where shes really sensitive and kind and the opposite of him and they're dating but he seems to be spending more time with inej planning a heist and reader gets jealous and during the heist she saved inej from a bullet, getting hurt in the process and tells Kaz,in a delirious state, that shes happy she saved inej for him and everyone helps him plan a picnic for her while shes healing and suprises her? Its quite a long request but it would be wonderful if you wrote it!! thanks💕

Ends of the Earth (Kaz Brekker x Reader)

Hope you enjoy reading! I had a lot of fun writing it :)

Warnings: reader gets shot, that's about it?

Genre: Angst to (minimal) Fluff

Word Count: 2126

You’re not sure how you could have ever expected him to return what you felt for him.

You and Kaz were essentially opposites- he was a hardened criminal, you were more of a person who just ran with the wrong people. He was mean and commanding, you were sweet and endearing. Where he’d kill people with no hesitation, you’d probably be torn over it for the rest of your life.

Though the Barrel seemed to have no room for someone as kind as you, you had found yourself to fit fine along with rest as someone to watch over the rest. Your skill of memorization was appreciated when Kaz needed to reflect back on a certain part of the plan, and besides, having someone counteract his cruelty was appreciated by the others.

Sometimes, like now, it was hard to be a part of the Crows. Watching Inej stand by his side, watching them work together like well-oiled parts of the same machine, it was bittersweet. You couldn’t help the jealousy that overtook you, but kindness was ingrained in you. You couldn’t hate him. You couldn’t hate Inej.

“So we’ll take them out there. Inej, I’m going to need your backup here.” His voice snaps you back into the moment.

“Got it.” She nods.

“Before then, though, You’ll be stationed here. Y/N, I’m going to want you to stick close to her. She can fight for the both of you in case anything goes wrong.”

You’re useless, you berate yourself. You’re going to need Inej to save you. Maybe if you could defend yourself the way she could, he’d like you more.

“Understood.”

“That should wrap everything up. We’ll meet at the usual spot tonight. We’ll take transport there and sneak in. From there, everything should go according to plan.”

…

Night quickly falls, and you’re all gathered.

“To reiterate, I’m going to go grab the paintings. Inej and Y/N, stick together and communicate when it’s safe. Jesper, you’re going to shoot out the lights when signaled, and make sure that carriages are ready when it’s time. Wylan, wait it out here with him. If all goes to shit, blow this place. Clear?”

Echoes of agreement echo from around you, and you nod. This should be an easy heist.

“Y/N, c’mon. Let’s head over this way.”

Inej takes your wrist and leads you to the edge of the building. Her stare is intimidating as she surveys the building, before turning back to you.

“I’ll scale the walls, and then I’ll use the rope to pull you up. We can wait on the top of the building for a bit, before slipping in through a window. That okay?”

Damn her for even being considerate to you. And you still have the nerve to be jealous over her. Her and Kaz are so similar- they’d be perfect for each other.

You still can’t find it in your heart to be completely happy about that.

“Y/N? You alright?”

“Huh?” you snap out of your reverie, and give a bashful smile. “Yeah, that’s good. I’ll spot you. Hopefully I’ll be able to get up there…”

Inej throws you a reassuring smile back. “You’ll be okay.”

You watch with awe as she scales the building with no issue, truly living up to the nickname she had been given. She’s nearly invisible as she reaches the top, you note. She’s incredible.

You wait on the ground patiently as Inej lowers the rope, before you hear voices.

You stare up at her, wide-eyed, before running and diving behind a tree.

“The wine good tonight?”

It’s a guard. Your heart rate quickens, and bring a hand over your mouth. Quiet your breathing. If they catch you, you’re dead, and you’ll be the dead weight of this mission.

“I don’t know, haven’t had a drink yet. Maybe once everyone’s gone. Ha! The Stadwatch won't penalize me if there’s no guests to guard!”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit! All we have to make sure is no scum tries to steal the painting.”

“Like anybody would dare show their face here.”

The other guard laughs, and you wait with baited breath as they finally round the corner.

You check both directions, before you quietly slip out.

“Inej?” you’re quiet and slightly shaken. Death and capture was always palpable on these missions, but it had come swinging at you quicker than you had expected. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” her voice comes from above. “I’m here. You’re fast on your feet. Good thinking.”

“Thank you, and thank you for waiting.”

The rope drops down for the second time, and you take a hold of it, pulling yourself up with a bit of her help. Your hands finally grasp the ledge of the building, and Inej extends one of her hands to help pull you up. You’re hauled onto the rooftop, and though it’s a bit ungraceful, you’re okay.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

“No problem.”

Your eyes are both directed on the walkways below.

“You scout out for guards down there, and I’ll check for guards in the windows? We should signal to Kaz soon.”

“Sure.”

You keep a careful eye down below, hearing Inej scurry to different window points. You watch as she slips to one of them, peering through.

“Just our luck,” she mutters cheerfully. “This window’s fine. Let’s open it. I’ll go first, but send a flare for Kaz. I’m going to need that window open as soon as that flare goes up.”

“Alright.” You take a deep breath, before shooting the flare off. Inej thrusts open the window and pulls you in behind her.

You watch a figure walk past the doorway. That should be Kaz, and now, he should be slipping past you to go to the next doorway to take the painting-

“To the roof again, now-” Inej says, and starts to step out behind the boxes, and the figure turns back.

That’s not Kaz.

A click.

She’s going to be shot.

You’re acting on pure impulse and nerves when you shove her aside, and the bullet pierces through your shoulder. You crumble, and Inej tries to keep you from completely collapsing.

You grit your teeth. You’re trying not to let tears stream down your face, but everything hurts and Inej is over you and she’s saying something but you can’t hear her-

You try to force yourself to sit up, and you see a cane poised to hit the guard over the head. You turn away, and thank your murky hearing that you can’t hear the scream that emits from the guard.

Kaz.

“What happened?” His voice is losing it’s cool quickly.

“She was shot by the guard, I don’t think she’s quite registering it-” Inej’s voice is more panicked, but she forces herself to be analytical. “She’s going to need treatment, and quickly.”

“Okay,” he breathes in sharply. “Okay. Go down the hall, grab the paintings, and meet Jesper by the transportation. I’ll get her out.”

“Okay.”

Inej dashes down the hall, and he takes in your state. Your pupils are blown wide, and you’re trying not to cry, but it hurts.

“Kaz,” you breathe out. “Thank the Saints. Is Inej okay?”

He frowns at that. What about Inej? Inej was fine, you’d been shot. Did you have no self-preservation instincts?

“Inej is fine,” he mutters.

“That’s good,” you sigh out. “That’s good. I don’t quite think I’m going to make it out here alive, so just in case I don’t, I love you. Though I’m glad she’s okay, for your sake.”

His frown deepens. “I’m sorry? For my sake?”

“You’re in love with her. She with you. You guys can live your happy ending. As happy as the Barrel can get, anyway.” Your smile is slightly delirious, and he knows you’re not thinking rationally.

“Stop talking.”

“I’m sorry, are you mad at me? Please don’t be mad at me. I didn’t-” you cough, “think I’d die, but if it’s for you and Inej, then I think it’s worth it.”

“Nobody is worth your life,” he nearly yells. “You’re not going to die, Y/N. I won’t allow it.”

“Please, just let me stay here. They’re going to find you if you don’t.” “I don’t care.”

He’s pulling off his jacket and carefully using it as a tourniquet for your shoulder.

“Can you walk?”

“Kaz, please-”

“Can you walk.” It’s a statement, maybe a threat.

“Maybe- maybe with a bit of support,” your words are weak. You’re running out of time. “The world looks sideways, though- face it, Kaz, I’m not going to make it. I don’t want to be dead weight, your touch aver-”

“I’m not going to combust into fucking flames if you lean on me! Goddamnit, let me help you!”

His anger startles you. You hold back more tears as he pulls you up. At least he took the care to pull you up by the other arm. “Okay.”

The world is spinning and his face isn’t clear, and time seems to speed up as both of you go through the hallways, finally meeting Jesper and Inej in the courtyard.

“Bloody hell,” Jesper mutters.

“Go. To the White Rose. Nina should be able to do something.” Kaz leaves no room for argument. You’re passed out now, and he’s almost thankful you can’t feel anything as the carriage rushes through harsh weather and bumpy roads.

I don’t quite think I’m going to make it out here alive, so just in case I don’t, I love you.

Were you that oblivious? Did you think he was in love with Inej? How could you be so blind?

How could you sacrifice yourself so he could live what you thought to be a “happy ending”?

You didn’t plan it, did you?

He carefully takes off one of his gloves, hovering his hand over your forehead.

You’re still warm.

He doesn’t believe in Saints, but now, he’s almost praying to them that you’ll be okay.

Please be okay.

...

Inej glances at Kaz, standing over her in the White Rose.

She’s been out for days at this point. Nina could only do so much, with whatever corpse-like power she’d gained. The rest had to be natural healing.

Inej clears her throat. “She’d go to the ends of the world for you. For your happiness.” Kaz remains still.

“Don’t make her do so again.”

..

Your eyes flutter open, the brightness of the room nearly rendering you blind.

Your shoulder hurts like a bitch, but besides that, you’re alive.

Happiness and heaviness fill your heart at once. You’re alive, you’re okay. What had you said to Kaz in your state?

Hopefully nothing stupid.

“You’re awake. I’m glad.”

Kaz’s voice comes from the edge of the room. He’s leaning on the wall, cane in hand. When was Kaz upfront with his emotions?

“Yeah. How long was I out for?”

“A couple of days.”

“Days?” Your voice cracks. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

That’s a lie. You thought you were dead, for sure. He doesn’t have to know that.

“...Right.” He’s skeptical, but pushes himself off the wall and makes his way over to you. “This may be a bit early, but would you want to go for a walk?”

“Sure.” Is he kicking you out of the Crows? Why would he want to go on a walk just after you’ve woken up? You’re screwed.

He waits for you to stand, and then you’re both walking side by side, into the gardens of the courtyard. He doesn’t say anything, just leads you to a small place under an apple tree. A picnic blanket is spread out, with a small basket laying on top of it.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and a brief smile flashes across his face. “Nice, isn’t it?”

“Kaz- what is all of this?”

“You said you loved me.”

Horror paints across your face, and you lower your head in shame. “I’m sorry, I didn’t, I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, I know you love Inej, that- was a bit unprompted of me, I’m sorry-”

He blinks at your rushed words. “Y/N. I’m not in love with Inej. She’s part of the Crows, as are you. Though- if you mean it,” he clears his throat, “that you love me- then take this as a surprise first date.”

Your expression morphs into a shy smile. He’s probably not ready to say it back. It doesn’t matter. He feels the same way.

“Happy first date, then.”

You’re both talking and eating, small smiles on both of your faces, a stark contrast to the harsh atmosphere of Ketterdam. It doesn’t matter to him. You’re alive, you’re safe, and you’re with him. You’d go to the end of the world for him. He’d do the same for you.

He loves you.

[aneiria-writes]

Day 8 prompt: No anaesthesia

‘Inej.’ Kaz’s familiar rasp drilled through the fog of pain that enveloped Inej. It wasn’t the voice she’d come to know intimately, the one that whispered her name in the quiet of the night, or murmured it sleepily first thing in the morning.

This was Dirtyhands, speaking to his Wraith.

‘Inej, listen to me. I need you to bite down on this.’

Inej turned her head towards the coldness of his voice, her ears ringing, her vision dim and spotting. The pain radiated from her upper arm, hot spikes of mindless agony, like an exploding star within her body. ‘Kaz?’ she struggled to focus on him, and shrunk back slightly as he pushed something between her teeth, wooden and cylindrical.

‘Bite down, Inej,’ Kaz repeated, stern and controlled.

‘Ghezen, boss. Are you sure about this?’

Something rocked Inej’s body, and she screamed around the cylinder in her mouth, sinking her teeth into the wood, as her arm jolted and fresh spasms of pain shot through her nerves.

‘Saints, sorry, Cap’n.’

She realised it was Specht behind her, his strong arms cradling her into a seated position.

They’d been boarded by an attack group of corsairs, Inej remembered. Vicious mercenaries, paid for by slavers to take Captain Ghafa and the Wraith down.

It was all going fine until one of them got the jump on Kaz.  

But Kaz was here, now, crouched in front of her with cold black eyes, his face and shirt splattered with other people’s blood.

‘I have to reset it.’ Kaz was talking to Specht, not her. Treating her as if she were an object. It was the way the Lynx’s clients would talk about her to Tante Heleen. ‘If we wait until we make land and find a Healer or a medik, she might never have full use of it again.’

Inej couldn’t remember hearing Kaz this matter of fact, this uncaring, for years. She was thrown back into those first days in the Slat, when the nightmare of the Menagerie was still fresh in her mind, and she still wasn’t convinced of Kaz Brekker’s intentions with her.

She gave a weak whimper around the wood, and instinctively cowered back into Specht’s arms, her ears still ringing.

‘It’s all right, lass,’ Specht murmured, and Kaz looked up at Inej with a hint of a frown on his face.

‘This is going to hurt.’

Inej pressed herself back against her first mate, away from Dirtyhands, the wooden cylinder in her mouth stealing her voice.

xxx

Kaz tightened his jaw and narrowed his eyes. Inej was cowering — literally cowering away from him — and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever felt more like the bastard he was renowned to be. He knew, logically, that the pain from her broken arm would be making her delirious, that she wasn’t really scared of him.

Right?

It was his fault she was lying broken and battered on the deck of her own ship, after all. He’d been a split second too slow, his footing on the ship too unsteady. Hands had grabbed him from one way and his cane from another.

Kaz still had his little oyster knife tucked away, and it only took a minute to disable and then kill his attacker. In that minute, the other mercenary had turned Kaz’s Fabrikated crow-head cane on Inej, smashing her upper arm with enough force to down a pirate twice her size.

Before the cane — or Inej — had fallen to the floor, Kaz had whipped out his pistol and shot her attacker through the eye.

When he turned back Inej was already passed out, crumpled to the ground, Specht rushing for her. Between him and Kaz, they pulled her back behind the rum barrels, and she regained consciousness, staring at Kaz with dazed eyes, whimpering in pain.

He’d gently pressed her upper arm, feeling the snapped bone grind against itself, tracing the jagged edges through her skin.

He knew what he had to do: what he’d let no-one do when he fell off that roof. By resetting his leg — badly — himself, Kaz had given himself the limp that dogged his steps.

He wouldn’t let Inej go through the same pain.

As Inej cowered and whimpered and pressed up to her first mate in terror, Kaz called on every ounce of the cold, brutal, ruthless Dirtyhands persona he could.

It was the only way he was going to be able to cause the woman he loved so much agony, even though he knew it was going to save her pain in the long term.

Kaz nodded to Specht, and Specht nodded in return, holding Inej a little firmer, not bothering to hide his own worry.

Kaz reached for Inej’s arm, trying to harden his heart to the way she turned her head to avoid his eyes, and felt carefully for the break. Then, not giving himself time to overthink it, he tightened his grip and snapped the bones back into place.

Inej screamed around the wooden baton he’d pushed between her teeth, before going limp in Specht’s hold.

Around them, the fighting had stopped. Rotty took aim at the last standing corsair, felled him with a shot of his pistol, and silence fell on the deck.

‘Help me get Inej to her cabin,’ Kaz commanded, already on his feet. He heard Specht get to his feet with Inej.

He didn’t look back at he stalked over to the captain’s cabin.

xxx

Inej was sleepy, and the familiar, gentle rocking of the Wraith made her want to bury herself beneath her blanket and fall back to sleep.

If it weren’t for the aching, bone-deep pain that throbbed incessantly from her breastbone all the way down to right wrist, she probably would have done.

She forced her eyes open, and found her right arm splinted and bandaged. As if that pain wasn’t enough, her head felt like she’d been hit with a cannonball.

She turned her head, and found Kaz hunched up on a rickety chair next to her bed, gloves off, head in his hands, hair dishevelled and falling over his eyes. He was wearing his shirtsleeves and suspenders, spattered with blood and grime, and his cane was nowhere to be seen.

‘Kaz?’ Inej’s voice was croaky, her throat dry and sore. She remembered screaming, somewhere in the back of her mind. She remembered cold eyes and unfeeling words. She remembered Dirtyhands, advancing towards her, the threat dangerous in his gaze.

When Kaz dropped his hands and looked up at her, Dirtyhands was nowhere to be seen. Kaz looked anguished, his dark eyes haunted, shadowed with violet, his body tense and trembling.

‘Inej?’ he gasped, leaning forward, gripping his fingers in the side of her mattress. ‘Ghezen, I’m so glad — I mean, how are you feeling?’

Inej looked down at his fingers, starkly pale against the bright green and orange of her blanket: a Suli piece of art, crafted by her mother to bring colour and joy into her quarters.

‘Tired,’ she said. ‘Painful. Where are we?’

‘Still on the Wraith,’ Kaz replied. She saw him physically pull himself together, his spine straightening, his breaths deepening, as he brushed his hair back from his face. ‘We’re inbound to Os Alta. You need to see a Healer as soon as possible.’

Inej looked back at her splinted arm, and Kaz’s gaze followed hers. His fingers returned to her quilt, twitching against the material.

‘Inej, I — I’m so sorry. This was all my fault. I didn’t protect you—’

‘Kaz.’ Inej reached over her body with her good arm, clasping her hand over Kaz’s. He looked up at her with desperate eyes, grasping her hand in both of his. ‘You can’t protect me all the time, sweetheart. We lead dangerous lives.’

Kaz clenched his jaw, his eyes flickering away from hers. ‘It was my cane,’ he muttered, shaking his head. ‘He used my cane to hurt you, Inej.’

Inej sighed and settled her head more comfortably against her pillow. Part of her wanted Kaz to leave her to sleep, so she could just wake up when the pain was gone. Another part — the louder part, she realised — just wanted him to crawl into bed with her, hold her uninjured side and kiss the pain away.

‘Will he see another sunrise?’ she asked, already knowing what Kaz’s answer would be. Sure enough, his eyes darkened and he gave her a grim smile.

‘He will not.’

‘Well then.’ Inej gently pulled her good arm free, and gasped as another jolt of pain shot through the broken limb. ‘Please say you have something for the pain?’

‘I’ll go and fetch you some willow bark tea,’ he said gently, struggling to his feet. He limped over to the door, and Inej winced again as she shifted on her bed.

‘Go and take back your cane, Kaz,’ she called out, making her voice as stern as she could against the dull background of pain. He threw her half a smile over his shoulder. ‘And then bring me my tea and come keep me warm until we get to Os Alta.’ Kaz’s hand faltered on the door handle, and Inej had to stifle a grin.

‘You’ll be the death of me, Ghafa,’ he muttered.

She just sighed and closed her eyes, trying to let the gentle rocking of the Wraith wash away some of the incessant pain. ‘Not today, Kaz.’

‘Not today, sweetheart,’ he echoed, and then he left, to fetch her tea.

[genshin-impacted]

lost & found // Diluc x Reader (1/3)

Word Count: ~3.3k 

Notes: GN!Reader, Seelie!Reader, Diluc/Reader, what more can I say? You’re a cute seelie following Diluc around

Summary: Vaguely remembering the time when you were once human, you are a mini seelie roaming the outskirts of Mondstadt when you find Diluc and decide to follow him-- though he does his share of following you too, through the best and worst of your adventures together. 

“You’re more of a radar for trouble than treasure, aren’t you,” Diluc says rather than asks you, though his fondness is clear to see. You can only do a bashful swirl in response. 

-

Alternatively: As a seelie, you’re terrible at leading Diluc towards treasure without running into hoards of hilichurls or enemies alike, but he follows you anyways. 

[Part 2]

.

.

You are a seelie. 

You aren’t quite sure what that is, but you know for a fact that the wispy reflection that you see in the lake is you. No hands, no legs, no head, no heart-- though you remember when you had all that before. You can feel yourself breathe, but you also know you would be fine without it. You touch the water and vaguely feel its coolness and register that it is wet, but you aren't sure what is touching the water or how you know what it feels like. 

You are able to fly. You rise, and you fall, and you twirl in midair, and you know you have never been able to do this until now. "This is nice," you find yourself saying, but your voice comes out garbled and high, so you stop. You suppose losing your speech is the price to pay for the power of flight.

You don't know how long you wandered until you find something familiar to you. In a land of slimes, aggressive flowers, and crystalized butterflies, it's hard for you to take everything in at once. But you can recognize a human when you see one. (It would be difficult not to. You were once human, too, if you can remember.)

The human is strikingly distinct as far as humans go. With bright red hair, the man in black leans against the tree by the lakeside and watches the water lap up against the short cliff. You don't make snap judgments, not usually, but when you see the man in black, you can't help that your first thoughts are that he looks lonely.

You float to him steadily from what you hope is outside of his sight, curious enough to approach and observe what you can of him without being seen. 

Except, the moment you fly near him, he looks directly at you. (Apparently, you glow, if the light that you shine on his face is not enough of an indicator of your bioluminescence.)

You freeze in mid-air, or as much as you can as a globby orb of light. You wait with bated breath as he watches you as intently as you watched him, and you take a glimpse at what your light has allowed you to see: bright red eyes to match his hair. (You've never seen so much red on a person. And red-red too, not just the orange-y red you've seen people with.) 

Not knowing what else to do, you decide to do a somersault. (You think if you were still a human, you’d attempt to crack a joke or start a conversation to break the ice, but alas.)

You expect him to start doing something-- anything. But the man continues to look at you, though with less of a guarded expression and more of a curious one instead. 

You almost feel offended by the strange look he gives you, but then you see his lips uplift into a small smile and you forgive him. For good measure, you twirl in the air and, when he simply follows you with his eyes, you circle around his head like a halo.

"You're a different type of seelie, aren't you?" He says, his arms still crossed when you fly down to smush your face against the red gem at his collar and the Vision at his waist. You loop around his legs and try to lift his fur-lined coattails, only for him to lift it up himself and shoot you a raised brow. "Did you want me to follow you?"

Follow you? You wonder, why would he want to follow you? You don't think you have anywhere to be, let alone anywhere to lead him to. 

Now how to convey that to him…

The red-head watches you as you shake yourself side-to-side in what you hope looked like the shake of a head. "Ah… That's a no, then. I see," he says. He chuckles when you chirp in joy, looping up again. 

He pushes himself off the tree and walks on the path, toward the mansion in the distance. You follow closely behind him. A few steps in, he turns to you-- and you almost feel bashful enough to droop in height.

"Are you following me on purpose?" He asks.

You swirl up and eagerly bob your head. You wish you could ask, but the only thing you can do is trill-- which seems to do the trick when you hear the man huff in amusement before beginning to walk again. "Well, hurry up then," he says, and you chirp once before speeding up to catch to him in record-speed flying. 

(If you accidentally crash into his back at your eagerness, you think the shake of his shoulders in his laughter is only good signs of the beginning of a friendship.)

.

.

.

You hope the man you’ve decided to follow doesn't mind that all you can do is trill and twirl in the air. You make for a poor partner in conversation, considering you cannot supply the words to respond, but you think he at least finds you amusing at least if the small smile on his face is anything of note. You think he looks rather charming like that, as opposed to his straight-faced somberness when he was alone. Very mysterious, you think to yourself, must be popular.

When you follow him and see groves of grapevines and a mansion of formidable size, you think perhaps his rugged handsomeness and broodingly mysterious nature aren’t his only charm points. 

(You wonder if you can eat. You press where you think your mouth should be onto a bunch of grapes only to be disappointed by a lack of action. 

"What are you doing?" The man's voice calls out to you, amusement laced into his words. You turn around and speed back to him, feigning innocence.) 

The two of you enter the confines of Dawn Winery-- or so you read from a sign. You watch curiously as your mysterious man waves his hand in greeting when a few maids bow respectfully and follow him into the back where a man waits by a wheelbarrow.

"Master Diluc," the man says, and you are elated to finally put a name to a face you've followed for a while now. The winery employee looks past him at you, and you instinctively hedge closer to Diluc, almost hiding behind his hair. "Is that… a seelie?"

"So it seems," Diluc replies, crossing his arms. He takes a look at you. "Though it has yet to guide me anywhere."

You let out an extended squeak of indignance that makes him laugh, uncrossing his arms before he turns back to the worker at hand to discuss business. 

You'll show him, you think huffily. You can guide him somewhere-- it's in your bones (metaphorically). You found him, didn't you? You reason, surely there is something innately Seelie about you that will lead him somewhere.

Most seelies, as you have learned from watching Diluc follow the larger blue seelies, guide people to a treasure chest or some kind of monetary reward for leading them back to their seelie courts. You wonder if they are programmed to know where they are supposed to go and if there is a natural pull to a certain place. You wonder if it's anything like your wandering curiosity similar to that of a child, hoping to see what lies ahead and barreling forth. 

Either way, you take the lead and Diluc follows you out into Teyvat.

And he follows you right into enemy territory.

The first time feels like an accident, and after Diluc destroys the encampment, he finds a box of artifacts as a reward for his battle prowess. (You've never seen so much burnt grass.) The second time you guide him into enemy territory feels like a coincidence. They were next to each other, and hey, Diluc is able to find an exquisite chest this time filled to the brim with mora.

The third time around, it is hard to argue otherwise.

"You're more of a radar for trouble than treasure, aren't you," Diluc comments, settling down onto a log as you (metaphorically) bury your head into your hands. To convey such emotion as a seelie, you droop to the ground as flat as you could possibly be at his feet.

"I'm kidding," he says, watching with quipped lips as you rise from the ground moodily. "We did get some treasure out of it, so it wasn't a total loss." He reaches out with his hand to gently brush over your front as he would a cat-- and you react as a cat would, preening into his hand. He lets out a huff of laughter. "Affectionate, aren't you?"

You do a bashful swirl.

.

.

.

You realize soon enough that most people would not call Diluc private or stoic. Charming, a man with a way with his words, succinct, and pleasant are only a few things you've heard people say about him. And you were right-- he is a popular man if the eyes that follow him and the dreamy sighs that come after he leaves is of any indication.

The mysteriously cool Diluc you meet on the first day is vastly different from the man that everyone else interacts with on a day to day basis. He's not charming all the time, but he has a way about him that exudes confidence and almost an elitist composure. In some ways, you are glad-- you don't have to hide away behind his collar or in his hair (you still do this, if you're honest, just because his hair is so fluffy), afraid to mar his pristine reputation as a local bad boy. And in other ways, you are a bit smug, to know a side of Diluc that he shows to very few people.

Kaeya is one of those few people you have seen Diluc act anything less than amicable towards. 

"I was hoping one day you would have someone at your side but I have to admit, Master Diluc," Kaeya says, propping his face on his hand in amusement, "this is not quite what I imagined."

You let out a titter of laughter at the difference between the two men's expressions as Kaeya pokes at your little translucent ears. Kaeya looks at you with mesmerizing amusement as Diluc glares at Kaeya over his wiped-clean glass like he would like to do nothing else but break it over the other's head. ("It wouldn't hurt that much," Kaeya tells you flippantly. "Not as much as the hangovers his drinks give me.")

"Don't you have somewhere better to be?"

"Not really, no." Kaeya replies, feigning hurt, "Why, don't want me here?"

"Never."

Kaeya gives you a pointed look akin to a puppy. "His words are colder than my Vision, mini seelie," he says to you. "Careful not to get frostbite now."

"You have the privilege of having earned my ire," Diluc says shortly. "Also," he slaps Kaeya on the back of his hand when he goes to pull at your ears, "stop that."

"Protective, aren't you?" Kaeya chuckles, watching as you gaze up at Diluc adoringly. "I think you're one phrase away from telling me to get my own mini seelie."

At this, you let out a long coo, flying up to bop Kaeya gently on his nose before going over to Diliuc and rubbing your face onto his cheeks. You hear Diluc let out another breath of laughter, and you feel his hand press you closer to him. “Are you comforting me?” He asks in amusement, and for once, he does not berate Kaeya for joining in with his laughter. 

“The pair the two of you make,” Kaeya drawls, picking up his glass of Death After Noon. “You’d fight wars for each other, wouldn’t you?”

Of course you would, you think, though there was very little you could do as a seelie-- and you forget that at times. 

To be fair, most of the time, Diluc didn’t seem to treat you any less than his traveling companion. You’re only reminded when you float on your own when he’s cleaning up the tavern and get chased by cats and birds alike, only to come flying home to Diluc blubbering about your near-death experiences (though was it even possible for you to die?). And when you try to, in attempts to help Diluc out, scold a rowdy customer into behaving by slamming your body into their face rapidly without doing any damage whatsoever.   

The two of you-- Seelie and Uncrowned King of Mondstadt-- were a pair of renown. (“Two peas in a pod,” Venti would say the first time you led Diluc to him at Starsnatch Cliff, and “always together like bread and butter,” he said to you two the second time you find him near Starfell Lake. And “are you two following me?” when Venti walks into the tavern for the third consecutive meeting.) And if you ever doubted that Diluc cared for you, you had to look no further than when you were stolen from Diluc’s side by treasure hoarders who didn’t know any better.

It is in these moments where you are viscerally reminded that you are a seelie-- a being meant to guide people to treasures-- and not what you have been for the past few-- weeks? months? by Diluc’s side. You realize that you’ve never been hurt in this form before when you are kidnapped. It didn’t occur to you that you could feel any pain, and you wonder why not when you can feel the softness of Diluc’s hair and the warmth of his hand-- all gentle, loving gestures. Being squeezed by the treasurer hoarder’s hand feels suffocating, like your lungs being crushed under a massive, unrelenting weight.

It is not pleasant, to say the least, especially when they threaten you to take them to treasure that you know you cannot locate. 

Or can you? 

With convincing pulses of light, as though you’re approaching actual riches, you lead them where you lead people (or rather, just Diluc) best. 

The enemies of your enemies are your friends; you watch as an axed mitachurl spins around, chasing after the treasurer hunters who with varying degrees of fear, run away. They would have gotten away scot-free if they had not run into Diluc who had somehow found you before you could come back to him.

His phoenix burns bright especially in the moonless night, and Diluc takes care of two enemy camps that night. 

“Clever,” he says, making you preen, “leading them here. They really didn’t know what they signed up for when they started following you, did they?”

How did you find me? You trill, twirling around. And there should be no reasonable way for Diluc to understand what you’re trying to say, but he does anyways. 

“I just did what you usually do for me,” Diluc says, putting his hand up so you can gently land on it. Your glow illuminates his face in the softest shade of color. You watch as his lips turn up into a small smile. “I led myself to wherever the trouble was and knew I’d find you.” 

(Diluc will never tell you this for as long as you are a seelie, but the moment you do not come back to him when he finishes up his shift at Angel’s Share, his stomach drops. It shouldn’t have been hard to spot you, a glowing light, amongst the quiet, softly lit streets of Mondstadt, but he gives the city a quick lookover and cannot find you. 

He learns about the treasure hoarders from his connections and does not hesitate to take his broadsword with him and go looking for you. 

He runs into two other treasure hoarder camps and fights three groups of slimes before he finds the hilichurl camp you’ve led the hunters into, beyond relieved to see your familiar light in the distance.)

From that night, Diluc finds a mini seelie (you), sixteen anemo sigils, an old broadsword, mora, and a few treasure hunter insignias left behind. He gives you a sunsettia even though the both of you know you cannot eat, and you sit together at the edge of a cliff, watching the moon come out from its hiding place within the clouds. 

You have never felt safer.

.

.

.

You don’t really sleep, but every night you take your place by Diluc’s pillow and let time pass you by. Time feels different as a seelie, especially when you do not have Diluc to ground you to the schedule of a normal person. 

Though, if you were honest, it isn’t as though Diluc keeps regular hours himself. How many times have you bullied (read: squeaked at) him into turning in before dawn? How many times have you pressed your entire translucent body onto his face so he can take the hint to finally take a break? You vaguely remember being a human, and you think you should be abhorred by the amount of sleep Diluc isn’t taking, considering how good sleep can feel. 

On the bright side, Diluc has gotten more used to your antics that it only takes a little nagging from your end for him to turn the desk lamp off.

“You’re quite persistent,” he comments, following you with his eyes as you press your body into various spots in the ceiling above him. “I can’t tell if I’ve been blessed or cursed with you as some sort of guardian.”

Guardian seelie, you titter, spinning around with your ears outstretched as though you were an angel. Special isekai seelie, you laugh to yourself, and Diluc only watches you fondly as you float down. 

"’Stripped of all that the body once held close and the soul once held dear, song and memories are all that now remain of yesteryear,’” Diluc recites quietly as you look up to him. “‘The last singers-- the first Seelie-- they played their final tune in the halls of angels.’" 

What is that?

“It’s a song I remember hearing when I was a child,” he says, “about seelies and their origins. I don’t remember if there was anything else, but it came to me today when I was thinking of you.” You wait for him to continue as he dims the light, your glow the only thing illuminating the room other than the moon. “Most seelies want to go back to their seelie courts… but it doesn’t seem as though you want to.” He pauses. “Or is it that you don’t have a court to go back to?”

You stay silent. 

“Sorry, forget what I said. It doesn’t matter in the end anyways.” Diluc scoops you up from his lap to place you at your usual place on the other pillow by his head. You softly trill when he gently pets you, and whether you mean to or not, you glow just a bit brighter for a moment.

“Even if one day you decide to leave, the winery will always be open to you,” he says. “Adeleine and the rest of the maids will recognize you and let you in-- though I suppose the entirety of Mondstadt knows who you are by now so I guess I don’t have to worry about that, do I?” He smiles when you coo softly.

“Good night,” Diluc says to you, as he does every night, and sleeps knowing you cannot say it back in words, though he understands you regardless every time.

If you weren’t a seelie, would you have been able to be as close to Diluc as you are now? Would he still have cared about you to the extent he does now?

Even if these questions did not have the answers you wanted to hear, you think to yourself, as your heart warms (though you have no heart) from the sight of seeing Diluc’s even rise and fall of his chest, that you wish that you’d one day be able to say ‘good night’ back to him.

.

You can only watch the moon rise and dream.

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain, blurb 2

The Promise of Rain (part 2?? technically) 

A/n I was not originally planning a second part for this but some people wanted it and this idea came to me and it works better with the context of ‘The Promise of Rain’ but it can technically be read as a stand alone :))

Anyways this might turn into a small series of kinda connected blurbs that are all kind of canon with each other but aren’t necessarily connected except for the reader’s background (the reader is a very sunshine-y person and knows Kaz bc she’s a runaway princess that he was hired to bring back home but she managed to convince him to let her work for him instead)

--

The night air had left me with a chill that made me want nothing more than to have my covers draped over me as I read. I’m normally more sociable after a job, especially after such a simple and safe ending, but a lot of tonight had left me wanting to be alone. 

Well, not truly alone. The company of my books is always welcomed, but tonight I can’t seem to find much comfort within the pages. After almost every paragraph, I find myself distracted by gusts of wind and thoughts of the heavy, silver clouds that seem to make up tonight. A part of me longs for the rain. I know it’s ridiculous to expect rain each time I desire some sense of comfort, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it. Especially when the sky so clearly implies it. 

“This must be the fifth time I’ve come here and you’ve been reading.” Kaz’s sudden appearance is almost enough to shake away my lingering somberness. 

I roll my eyes slightly, turning my attention back to the page in front of me. “That observation is just a testament to how often you come in here.” 

His glare is half hearted, a look I’d find endearing if I was less annoyed. “Where else am I going to find a reminder that good people exist in Ketterdam?” 

I think he may have a sixth sense that warns him when I’m treading the line between being annoyed and displeased. Everytime I find myself mad at him in a way that makes me want to avoid him instead of yell at him, Kaz makes some ridiculously heart-melting comment. He steps further into the room. I don’t miss the way he eyes my stretched out legs. Ever since the conversation we had after he woke up after an injury, we’ve fallen into the unmentioned habit of silently inviting the other to stay by moving to make room for them. 

It had started the day after the conversation in which Kaz had admitted that he wanted me to stay with him. He had been sitting on the small couch while discussing the details of a job. Shortly after I walked in he made a point of shifting so that he was clearly on one side of the couch. I didn’t think much about sitting down, but Inej and Jesper exchanged a look. 

Now, though, I keep my legs stretched out on the bed. He eyes my position on the bed, something grim crossing his features. 

“It might rain tonight.” 

He knows me so damn well. I hate it. “I hope so.”

I turn my head, analyzing the way the world seems to be on the cusp of something. I stare at the silver clouds until I feel something hard tap my leg. The tap is firm but not painful. I’m quick to look at Kaz as he lowers his cane. The mention of rain had been a distraction. 

“You distracted me on purpose.” 

“The first rule of the Barrel is to always be prepared.” There’s a slight uptilt to his lips, something I’ve learned to interpret as a sign of teasing. 

How is he so easy to be around one second and so cold the next? I resist a smile. “I’ll take notes.” 

Kaz ignores my passive aggressive tone. His focus seems to be on my legs that have still not moved to offer him a place next to me. “You wear your emotions too openly.” Great, he’s going to make us talk about it. “What reason could you possibly have to be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.” It’s a partial truth. 

His expression harshens. “Don’t lie.” 

“I’m not thrilled with you, but I don’t think that’s the same as being mad.” 

Kaz lets out a partial sigh. “No, they’re not the same.” Such an early concession feels like a trap. “With you, the first option is worse.” I don’t have anything to say to that. “Is this because of what I said to Jesper?” 

My posture straightens on instinct. “He wants your validation more than he’d ever admit and I understand that expressing praise isn’t exactly something you do, but would it kill you to not actively insult him?” 

“I didn’t say anything that was wrong. He thinks he’s a gambler but he’s just someone born for losses.” The look I give him must mean something to him, because Kaz is quick to tact on, “That doesn’t make him less valuable of an asset or less relatively dependable.” 

I eye him cautiously, the slightest bit of vulnerability playing at his features. “Don’t look at me like that--and don’t tell me that. Jesper’s the one who could use the occasional reminder from you that you hold him to any regard with positive connotations.” His lips press together like he’s thinking about scolding me for scolding him. “It’s only because I know you care more about Jesper than you’d ever let on.” 

“Jesper’s esteem can handle the blow.” The curtness of his voice is a blow in its own sense. “And he didn’t exactly deserve to be in my good graces after what he did tonight.” 

My sigh is not weighted enough to match Kaz’s newfound fountain of emotion. “We were successful--”

“He left you.” I didn’t know Kaz’s voice was capable of such harshness. “I paired him with you, and he left you--and you almost didn’t make it.” I let the weight of his words take up all the available space in the room, keeping the silence that follows them until some of the heaviness has dissipated. “He could have cost me one of my best people.”

Oh. His harshness, his unwarranted coldness, had been a manifestation of his concern. For me. Guilt knots my stomach. Potential words that may offer Kaz some sort of support raise and die back down in my throat. Kaz turns towards the door. 

“Kaz.” He pauses. There’s a long moment in which I think he won’t turn around, but finally, he does. I tuck my legs beneath me, forcing myself to sit up a little straighter. “I told Jesper to leave because I knew the job would have failed if he had been trapped in that room with me.” I drop my gaze towards the window. “I was right, the job was successful, and I got out in time so it was worth it.”

“You risked your safety?” The harsh facet of his being is making its return in full force. 

“For the job,” I’m careful to keep my words factual, “It’s what we’re supposed to do.”

Kaz’s jaw locks. “When I said that keeping you near me would ruin you this is what I meant.” 

Is it really this big of a deal? I made it out. “Kaz.”

“This wasn’t my best idea.” His words are leached of anything. “You’re going back home. Tomorrow I’ll arrange the voyage myse--” 

“Kaz Brekker you may get to live your life doing anything you want but you don’t get to control mine.” My chin raises an inch, an instinctual act of subtle rebellion. “I am not going back there, even if I’m technically indebted to you because you didn’t return me to my father but that does not mean I’ll--”

“I’m not trying to control you.” His words are sharp, boarding on a yell. “A job like that one wasn’t worth you.” 

From Kaz, I know those words are heavy. There’s a lot of things I could say to that. I could tell him that I wanted to do something for him. I could say that I appreciate him telling me that. I could even say that in his own way, Kaz giving Jesper a hard time because he left me, is kind of cute in a misguided way. The thing is I think all of these responses will make things worse. 

“Kaz,” I keep my voice as steady as possible, “I’m fine, you’re fine, it all worked out.” Scratching the back of my arm, I exhale gently. “I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.” 

I watch him carefully, there’s a slight slump to his shoulders as he exhales. Is the fight leaving him so easily? He walks further into the room. “You better.” He sits down in the space I provided for him slowly. “If you’re not you’ll have worse things to worry about than anything that can happen to you on a job.” He moves his cane forward easily, tapping my knee in a swift motion. 

I roll my eyes at the mock threat. “They do say that there’s nothing to fear in the Barrel like the Dirtyhands.” 

“Remember that.” Any edge in his voice is forced. I fight against a smile that seems to always want to break across my face whenever I think I see something resembling lightness in Kaz. 

“I don’t think I could forget anything about you.” 

He turns his head slightly. “You should.” 

“Too bad.” 

Kaz leans his back against the wall, untensing slightly. “I think you just like disagreeing with me.” 

There’s no point in lying about it. “Only because when you argue with me you give me this really particular look.” 

“A look?” 

Adding insult to injury, I smile. “Sometimes you look like you’re too focused on being angry, like you’re compensating for something.” 

Kaz lets out a bitter sigh. “Maybe if you were less of a puppy I wouldn’t have to--”

The laugh that escapes is most definitely a mistake. “Did you just call me a puppy?” I don’t give him a chance to reply, laughter taking over again. “I mean this in the least argumentative way possible--but you’re so weird sometimes.” 

He rolls his eyes, tensing. “I’m leaving.”

I stifle the rest of my laughter. “No. I was--I was kidding!” I keep my eyes on Kaz, expecting some type of annoyed glare, but his expression is a lot more weighted than that. Odd. “Kaz?” 

“You need to be more careful.” I understand Kaz’s pause as something he does before saying something outside of his nature. “I’m not asking you this as a Crow or a Dreg.” 

On instinct, my posture straightens. “I promised and I meant it.” 

“Sometimes I wish I could believe in Saints,” his voice has taken off a distant quality, almost fragile, “That way I could believe something existed to help what matters.” 

Oh. “You never fail, even if I didn’t believe in Saints I’d believe in you.” 

“You’re wasting your faith.” The sound of lightning cracking is almost enough to make me jump. The rain finally came. 

I know I’ll never convince him that that’s not true. “I don’t think so, but that’s why it’s called faith.” 

“I have faith in some things.” His expression is far off. 

“Like what?” 

Kaz’s eyes find the window. “People that find meaning in the rain.” 

Something in my chest swells. “You’re like the rain.”

We sit there in silence, watching raindrops glide down the window. “What were you reading?” 

The question has me dropping my gaze to the forgotten book on my lap. “I stole this book from the palace before I left. It was my mom’s favorite, she’s read it so much the spine’s completely cracked and the cover is practically falling off.” 

“Hm…” He mumbles. “Read some, the books read in a palace must be worthwhile.” 

A part of me wants to tell him that elitism has no place in literature, but his request leaves me frozen. I nod once, turning to the first page of the book. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife--” 

“Your upbringing makes sense--” 

“You can’t judge it off the first sentence,” he’s insufferable, “It’s setting up irony, and if you’re going to complain--” 

He lets out a conceding sigh. “I’m listening, I’m not interrupting.” 

I keep my eyes on him for a second longer than I should. “Okay.” Dropping my gaze back to the book, I adjust my grip on the worn paperback, “Good.” 

And then I keep reading. 

--

@theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship @mentally-in-northern-italy @uhanddreag 

[jamie-leah]

Traitor

Bucky x Reader

Oneshot

Summary: Everyone thinks you're a traitor but Bucky isn't convinced.

Word: 2592

Warnings: Swearing, action stuff, hints at abuse and violence at the end.

A/N: I had a half formed daydream that turned into this. Starts strong, ends weak, enjoy!

Oneshot Masterlist Series Masterlist

Steve throws your file on the desk in front of Bucky. Bucky just stares at your face on the front of the folder, pinned by a silver paper clip.

Silver was your favourite type of jewellery. Bucky remembered storing the information away for when he bought you a silver necklace for your birthday not long ago.

“I’m sorry, Buck, but we had an operative confirm everything I just told you. Y/N is a contract killer, an assassin and she was sent here to infiltrate and kill. Namely, all of us.”

Bucky hears the words coming from Steve’s mouth, but he can’t understand them. Images of you flash in his mind. You laughing at one of his lame jokes, you crying in his arms from a nightmare, you underneath him moaning his name as he kisses a trail down your neck.

Bucky shakes his head, “I don’t believe that Steve, I can’t. Who’s the source? How do you know they’re legit?”

Steve picks up a remote and points it at a screen in the room. It blinks to life on a still image of you in a restaurant, kissing the cheek of one of the most prominent mob bosses in the city and known Hydra agent.

Bucky stands so fast his chair cracks on the floor as he tears out of the office at full speed. He skips passed the elevator and takes the stairs, missing steps in his rush.

He keeps going and going until he hits the lowest level underneath the tower and storms passed all the guards. None of them challenge him, too afraid of the former Winter Soldier to get in his way.

As Bucky gets to the cells, he grabs an agent by the scruff and grinds out, “which cell?”

They all knew who he was talking about. Everyone would be talking about this for a while to come. The agent points into the open space of cells and stutters, “its, c-cell 203”.

Bucky drops the agent and stalks through the cells until he finally comes to 203. He steps into view with clenched fists and doesn’t pause before he asks, “why?”

You sit on the edge of the cot, elbows on knees, staring at the grey wall opposite. It takes you a moment to build up the courage to look at him. You never intended for this to happen. You never wanted to get feelings involved, but as you look at Bucky, you know it’s far too late for that now. Now you have a mess on your hands.

You debate how to play this. Do you keep up the contract killer façade or do you confess, tell him everything you’ve ever wanted to tell another human being before?

“Barnes, I should have known you would pay me a visit sooner rather than later.”

Bucky felt like you had struck him in the face with the way you addressed him, but he holds firm, “why?”

“Why what? I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific”, you reply coolly as you stand to face him.

Bucky changes his question, “is it true? Are you a contract killer?”

It takes you a few moments to keep the mask in place, “yes”.

You watch the pain flash across his features for the briefest of moments before he locks it away to be felt in private. It breaks your heart, but you’re so used to the feeling it never shows on your face.

Bucky goes to turn from you, wanting to get away, the sight of you too much to bear. You throw a question out into the void between you before he can retreat, “are you really going to leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?”

Bucky never turns back to look at you, but he whispers, “was any of it ever real?”

Despite knowing this was the question, despite hearing it from a few people across your lifetime, it was the first time it ever hit you in the gut with such force you had to take a silent gulp of air before choking out, “no”.

He leaves without another word.

You wait a few days. Working out the routine of the place before you wait for your next move.

You wait with your back to a small portion of the concrete wall next to the cell door. A blind spot. And when the guard brings your food and slides it under the metal bars, he looks up to find you missing.

Just as he steps closer to look, you strike. You shoot your arms between the bars and pull so hard his head bangs into the metal and he crumples, out cold.

You drag is body parallel to the door and you sweep his body for keys. You start to lose hope when your hand flits over cool metal and a little jingle rings out.

You wait fifteen minutes until lights out and the use the keys. You drag the guard into the cell, swapping your uniforms before closing the door and locking him in. You check all your hair is tucked until the cap before heading for the locked door between freedom and your prison.

You rap on the metal with your heart beating furiously against your ribcage. But the door opens without a problem and you have to stop yourself from sprinting down the hall and up the stairwell.

Once you make it up one flight of stairs with no alarms raised you start to sprint. Before you leave, you have to make it back to your room for your go bag. You can’t leave it when it has all the information you need for what started this all off.

You run and run and run. You run until your lungs burn with a fire that’s been flowing in your veins since you were born. You run until your legs scream at you to stop and just when you don’t think you can take any more flights of stairs, you make it to the top.

You stop. Your hand on the handle, taking a moment to get your breathing under control. You push the handle down slowly and open the door a crack to find the hallway in darkness.

You slip through and creep on the tiles without a sound as you make it to the first spare room in the hall.

You get into the room no problem and let out a breath when you realise no one knows you used this room to stash your information.

You waste no time in grabbing your go back from the closet, checking everything you need is in there before heading for the door again. Three steps from the exit and alarms scream out, waking everyone from their slumber. The alarm is followed by a female robotic voice, “alert, alert, prisoner escape. Alert, alert, prisoner escape.”

You swear under your breath as you rush out the door to see Bucky, Natasha and Sam at the end of the hall, near the stairway. Your only exit.

They spot you seconds after you spot them, and you take off running in the opposite direction. You can’t afford a hand to hand with all three of them. As confident as you are in your abilities they have just as much, and you don’t want to hurt them.

They shout in your direction, but you ignore them as you unzip your bag and rummage around for a miracle. You get to the living space when you finally feel it and a flimsy plan comes to mind.

You turn, gun in both hands as you drop the go bag. Bucky, Natasha and Sam all creep into the room, guns pointed in your direction as yours is in theirs.

“There’s nowhere else to go now, Y/N,” Sam says in his calm way.

You hold firm, the sofas keeping the four of you apart. You look in Bucky’s direction as you talk, “things are more complicated than they seem. And I’m sorry you were caught up in it. I’m not a good person and I’ll get what I deserve, but I have something I need to do first.”

“And what’s that? Kills us?”, Nat asks.

You shake your head, still looking at Bucky, “If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it three times over. You’re not my mission.”

“Then give yourself up and explain.” Sam tries to reason.

You lower your gun slowly, “it would take too long, and you may never believe me. I can’t afford that, and I’ll never get a chance like this again.”

Bucky remains silent throughout the whole exchange, but you study each other the entire time. You try to convey that you lied earlier before reaching up your arm with lightning speed.

Two shots and the chandelier that Stark insisted on installing for the living room crashes in front of the three as you turn and shoot the glass window. As the glass spiderwebs, you drop the gun and run at full speed. You have a moment to acknowledge that throwing yourself from the top of the tower is the dumbest move you’ve ever made as the air rushes to greet you.

You twist with a hand in your pocket and throw upwards, watching and praying for your miracle to work as the rope and hook catches and you plummet.

You fall down the building on the rope watching the ground and unclip at the last second, rolling with the momentum as the impact jars through your bones.

Bucky couldn’t believe you threw yourself out the window. He was the first to recover, leaping over the lights and the sofa to dive head first after you. He digs his metal hand into the concrete and slides down after you.

He sees you roll and run immediately like the pro that you are and wastes no time pursuing you.

You dart between traffic and glance behind to see him behind you. You growl in frustration at the stubborn solider, having to change your plans once again as you head for the roads.

You instinctively feel Bucky gaining on you with the serum pumping through his veins so when you spot a cargo truck coming on the road below. You don’t hesitate to jump off the road you’re on and slam into the truck underneath.

Your lungs scream for the third time that night as all the air leaves them, but you pay no attention as you look up to find Bucky staring after you.

You walk in the quiet of the night, looking down at the folded piece of paper. You check you have the right address when the empty warehouse finally comes into view. You slip in without any problems and head over to the machine where you stashed more stuff.

Just as you go to reach for the bag you hear the click of a gun. You freeze. You turn slowly, with your hands visible and find yourself staring into the face of Bucky and the barrel of his gun.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes and sigh, “how did you find me?”

“Please, do you really think I don’t know you after all this time? After our talk in the cells, I checked all the spare rooms. Found your go bag and the addresses. This was the closest one to the tower”, Bucky replies with an easy shrug.

You nod your head, “but if you found them, why did you leave them there? Why didn’t you tell anyone else?”.

“Tell me what’s going on, Y/N”, Bucky dodges the question.

You knew there was no other way out of this now. You had to tell him if you ever had a hope of getting this done tonight.

“Look, can you put the gun down-“

“Not until you tell me what’s going on. I can’t trust you.”

You pretend like his words don’t hurt, though they’re warranted, “okay, okay. Look, most of it is true. I am a contract killer. Long story short, I was born into a mob family. Mum died giving birth to me and left me and my older sister with my piece of shit father, the “use you as an ashtray type father”. At least he did with my sister. She took the brunt of his shit…anyway, when I turned 13 and had my first period, he sold me to a man. That man? Was the mob boss I know you saw me with, Joe Selene. I’ll skip passed all the torture and right to the part where he trained me as a contract killer for him and bided my time. My father had gone underground and with my limited access to resources I couldn’t find him.”

Bucky lowers the gun as you go through your story, his features softening at your tale of tragedy.

“I swore to my sister that I would come for her but I needed to gain the trust of Selene so I could get the resources to find my father. That was when he got involved with Hydra and they asked him to take you out. I agreed, knowing that you would have all the resources I needed to find my father and my sister.”

Bucky shakes his head, “why didn’t you tell me, us, any of this? We could have helped you.”

You look away from him, “because about a week after I got to the tower, I read my sisters name in the obituary. All the people I had killed to get to my sister was for nothing. She died alone, waiting for a rescue that never came and I knew…I knew that I was going to kill that bastard for everything that happened. I also knew that none of you would let me. You would reason about justice and doing things the right way. But I know what’s right and that’s that bastard six feet under and in hell.”

You look back up at Bucky to find him already watching you. You square your shoulders and jut your chin as you say, “so, you’re either with me or against me and so help me God, if you try to stop me from leaving this building and killing that piece of shit, I will not hesitate to put you down. I told you that you’re not my mission, but I will damn make sure nothing gets in the way.”

Bucky nods, “I’m in.”

You turn back to your bag and pull out the knives to strap around your body. You hand a few to Bucky and he takes them without a word.

As he turns to head back out of the warehouse you throw the question out again, “are you really going to leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?”

Bucky turns to look at you this time. He captures your eyes with his as he stares into your soul and whispers, “was any of it real?”

You reply without hesitation, “yes. Every single word.”

Bucky takes a few long strides before grabbing your face with his hands and crashing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. You return with the same ferocity, gripping his shirt in your fists to try and bring his body closer to yours.

When you can no longer breathe, you break the kiss. You both pant as Bucky brings his forehead down to meet yours. He whispers, “after we go drop a few bodies, what do you say we go take a trip. Just you and me?”

[bi-bard]

Chick Flick Moments - Sam Winchester Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Chick Flick Moments

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Requested: by an anonymous reader

Word Count: 2,363 words

Warning(s): violence, cussing, Sam embarrassing himself, spoilers for any movie/show listed in the author's note

Summary: (Season 11) Gabriel takes a break from hiding to teach (Y/n) and Sam to forgive each other.

Author's Note: I had so much fun putting this request together! Also, if I remember correctly, this reader wanted to remain anonymous.

Here are links to all the scenes that inspired parts of this imagine:

1 (Princess Bride), 2 (8x12 Criminal Minds; can't find just the scene to link), 3 (Moulin Rouge), 4 (The Notebook), 5 (The 10 Things I Hate About You), 6 (Gilmore Girls), 7 (La La Land)

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

I rolled my eyes as I walked through the bunker.

Sam was still ranting about the most recent hunt. I was just tired of listening to it. Dean had long since given up trying to control his brother, who had shown no sign of listening to anyone.

"You can't just throw yourself into every single enemy," Sam yelled. "Fun fact, you're not Superman!"

"Oh my god," I finally, turning around. I had been halfway through the library at this point. Dean continued through the bunker, ignoring us. "I ran up to one extra vamp because you were about to get your throat ripped out! Yes, I put myself in danger but it was to save you!"

"Why are you so desperate to be a hero," he asked.

"Why are you so pissy that I saved you," I shouted back.

I let out a yell before turning and leaving.

"Where are you going?"

"To bed," I shouted from down the hall. "Maybe you'll be nicer in the morning! You're welcome for saving your ass!"

I stormed into my room and slammed the door shut. I changed quickly, throwing my old clothes into the corner before curling up on my bed. My emotions got the better of me. I started crying into my pillow.

Imagine saving the man you secretly loved... and then he got mad at you about it.

I fell asleep crying that night.

--time skip--

I shot awake, cringing at how bright it was.

I looked around, letting my eyes adjust to the light.

I was on a hill. I was on a hill, lying in the grass with the sun shining on my face. This is not good.

I stood up and did a circle to look around the long stretches of grass. Nothing looked even slightly familiar.

"For fuck's sake," I muttered.

I decided that the best option would be to try to climb down and find a person... somewhere.

I was just about to start making my way down the hill when I felt a hand grab me.

Out of pure fear, I grabbed the person and pulled them from behind me. The person went flying down the hill.

"(Y/n)," I heard Sam's voice yell as he rolled down the hill.

I put my hand over my mouth. He soon stopped rolling and then he stood up, scrambling to pull the black mask off of his face. I sighed, dropping my hand when I saw he was alright.

"Sam," I called.

"Your instinct is to throw some down a hill," Sam asked.

"When a masked man tries to grab me, definitely," I replied. "Fun fact, Sam, I can actually defend myself."

He gave me a sarcastic smile. I shot it right back to him.

Sam looked down at his outfit before sighing and shrugging at me. He had just started to move back up the hill when my visions went dark.

I opened my eyes a few moments later.

What had been an open field was now a dark warehouse or factory. I saw Sam across from me, but also a group of people behind him. I recognized them. They were characters from Criminal Minds, a guilty pleasure I watched when we weren't hunting.

I tried to figure out what was happening.

Then, I became all too aware of the barrel of a gun pressing into my neck.

"No," Sam yelled.

It clicked.

Sam was supposed to be Spencer. I was Maeve. This was Zugzwang.

My heart dropped.

"Wait, please, don't," Sam yelled as the gun pressed harder on my neck.

"Sam, shut up," I snapped.

"Me for (Y/n)," he shouted.

"You would do that," Diane- the unsub of that episode- asked.

"Yes," Sam replied.

"No," I yelled. "Sam, shut up."

"You shut up," Diane growled at me.

"One difference between me and her...," I growled back.

I grabbed the gun, pushing it forward, away from my neck. The bullet she tried to fire hit the brick wall. I turned, bringing an elbow down on her arm. Her hand dropped the gun into my grasp. I pointed it toward her.

"...I'm not scared of a simple gun."

The others walked over and arrested her. I looked at Sam.

"If you continued, she would've killed herself, which would've killed me," I explained. He furrowed his eyebrows. "I watch this show when we aren't hunting."

He walks over, going to hug me before the scene changes again.

"Holy...," I trailed off as I looked around.

Around us, we could see the tops of roofs and a beautiful night sky. It was almost a dreamy setting.

"Where are we now," Sam asked.

"Only the great Moulin Rouge," Sam and I both twirled around to face... Gabriel. "I know, I know... I'm not dead, anyway!"

I rolled my eyes.

"You two need to learn a lesson," he pointed at us.

"It's like back in 2010," I mumbled. "Play our roles to get out. Probably why we were pulled out of the last two."

"You'll fall into them naturally, I promise," Gabriel smirked. "And yes. Stop ignoring the plotline."

"Alright... sure, I was gonna get shot for your crappy game," I snapped sarcastically.

Then, he was gone. I rolled my eyes.

"So, what are the roles," Sam asked as I walked around the top of the elephant.

"Well, Christian and Satine," I pointed between us. "Maeve and Spencer. The Princess Bride and Westley. It's all romance."

"Why," Sam scrunched his face up.

"Because Gabe wants to get his rocks off," I said sarcastically, "I don't know, Sam!"

I walked down the stairs of the elephant. It was gorgeous here. It was just as vibrant as the movie made it look.

"Wow," I look back at Sam. "This is awesome."

I chuckled and nodded.

"What seen is it?"

"The Elephant Love Medley," I said. "Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman sing this mash-up of famous love songs as his character tries to convince her that there is nothing more important than love."

"I'm not gonna sing," Sam shook his head.

"I was not gonna ask you too," I chuckled. "I've heard you sing."

"Rude."

I just shrugged.

I looked around at the room, trying to figure out how to play these roles without the singing.

"Wait," I said. "Come on."

I grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the stairs.

"What is it," Sam asked as we made it to the top.

"At the end of the medley, Christian and Satine are dancing and they walk out onto this field of clouds and are held up in the sky."

"What-"

"This whole movie feels like a fever dream the first time you watch it."

"Come on," Sam held a hand out to me.

"Can you dance?"

"Not well," he chuckled. "The role didn't say I needed to be good."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to him.

I tried to lead his steps and laughed as he stumbled into a pattern.

"Come on," I moved back so I could grab only one hand.

I led him a few steps forward and onto- what seemed to be- steps in the clouds. I let out an excited laugh when it worked. Sam looked at me and grinned at my excitement.

As soon as got to the top of the steps... it was gone.

We were in the middle of the street now.

"Aw, that was just mean," I mumbled. I glared at Sam when I heard him laughed.

He held his hands up jokingly before extending one toward me. I furrowed my eyebrows at him.

"I know what movie this is," he shrugged. I motioned for him to continue explaining. He walked over, hand still held out to me, "The Notebook. Noah and Allie dance in the street. So... will you dance with me? Even without the sequence where we dance in the clouds."

I bit my lip as I smiled.

I took his hand and let him pull me into the street. I laughed as I stumbled into his chest.

We fell into the scene naturally.

Sam held one of my hands in his and held my waist with the other. I placed my free hand on his shoulder. I looked up at him. It felt strange that we so casually fell into the scene but I was happy.

Sam jokingly twirled me around before pulling me back to his chest. I closed my eyes and chuckled.

"What," he asked.

"Nothing," I shook my head. "I just never saw you as such a romantic."

"Well, don't tell anyone, you'll ruin my reputation," he said sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes.

Sam spun the two of us in a circle before going to dip me. I didn't think I'd ever get to experience something like this. It always just felt like something I should forget about as a hunter. I was starting to forget why I was so angry with Sam in the first place.

I barely noticed that Sam was leaning in before the scene around me changed.

I was on a football field.

I looked around.

There was no sign of Sam.

"Crap," I mumbled, trying to figure out where to look first.

Then, there was a voice going over the field's speakers.

"You're just too good to be true... can't take my eyes off of you..."

I looked around toward the stands to see Sam walking with a mic. Can't sing, my ass.

"You'd be like heaven to touch... I wanna hold you so much"

"Oh my god," I muttered.

"At long last love has arrived... And I thank God I'm alive... You're just too good to be true... Can't take my eyes off of you."

I tried to bite back my laugh. He shrugged at me with an embarrassed smile and stepped into the actual stands.

We both jumped when the marching band started playing. I looked to see Gabriel smirking and leading their march.

Sam and I shrugged at each other. He continued on with the act.

Now, Sam Winchester pretending to be Patrick in "10 Things I Hate About You" was a treat... and was exactly what you imagined it would be.

He was almost stumbling down the steps as he continued on with the act. I was laughing hysterically by the time I saw the security guards starting to run in.

"Sam," I yelled, pointing behind him.

"Crap," I heard through the mic (which made me almost double-over in laughter) as he tried to take off running.

As soon as he was grabbed, the scene changed.

We both took a deep breath when we realized we were sitting together in a car.

"Thank god," Sam mumbled.

"That was a great performance, by the way," I said, still chuckling.

"Shut up," he muttered, laughing along with me. We fell silent after a minute. "So... what scene is this?"

"I have no idea," I replied.

"It's Gilmore Girls, dumbasses," we heard Gabriel's voice but saw no sign of him. "Season 1, Episode 16... absolute idiots."

"Didn't peg him for a Gilmore Girls fan," I said. Sam laughed.

"Me neither."

We fell silent again.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, looking over at me. "You were right. You can defend yourself and you were just trying to help me. I'm sorry for being such a dick about it."

I grinned, "Thanks... I forgive you. I know you were just worried about me."

Sam smiled back.

"I... umm...," Sam looked down for a moment, clearing his throat and collecting his thoughts. "I just... I love you."

My heart leaped up into my throat. I blinked at him a few times and forced a chuckle out. Which was the wrong response but I panicked. Hunters... we could face the devil but emotions were a no-no.

"(Y/n)," Sam's smile dropped slowly when he realized I wasn't responding.

I was just about to respond when the scene changed again.

Sam was gone again and I was on a city street.

"Dammit," I muttered.

I ran down the street, turning the corner. I looked at the wall of the building I was by. Was this a jazz club?

I walked through the door and was guided to a table so I could sit down and watch the performance.

"La La Land," I said.

Sam and I watched this together. Dean had gone to bed. We weren't tired and just turned this movie on because it looked like it was mostly happy.

Big dance numbers, beautiful effects... and the epilogue that made me hide tears from Sam.

I looked at the stage. Sam was sitting there, wearing a suit, looking at the audience nervously. He hesitantly reached toward the piano. It was like it was a prerecorded track. It sounded just like the movie.

I smiled.

I just wanted to talk to him.

Soon the performance ended.

I stood up and started walking over, seeing Sam starting to walk out.

I grinned at him, "Sam-"

He cut me off by cupping the sides of my face and kissing me softly. I touched his sides lightly, smiling against his lips. It was... magic. Absolute magic.

Then, I shot awake, back in my bed in the bunker.

The game was over. Thank God.

"(Y/n)," I heard yell through the bunker hall.

I ran into the hall and ran toward his room.

We stopped as soon as we saw each other.

"Please tell me that wasn't a dream," I said. He shook his head, smiling widely at me.

I ran over, pulling him down to kiss him again. It was softer than our last kiss and I loved it. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me closer. I buried my hands through his hair.

"Woah, what did I miss," we pulled away when we heard Dean.

I could basically feel Sam chuckle against my lips before he moved to look at his brother. I turned around in Sam's arm.

"A chick flick moment," Sam answered.

"Alright," Dean gave us a weird look before leaving without another word.

I looked back at Sam with a smile, "I love you."

"I love you too," he grinned and leaned in to kiss me softly again.

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

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[luminnara]

God Damn, Shit Sucking Vampires | Poly lost boys x oc CH 9

(oops no gif because the ones i want won’t upload right now)

Just as a reminder, lost boys requests are OPEN!

Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Tags:  @americancowgirl19 @ilikechocolatemilkh

Warnings: Blood, gore, vampire things

Hearing a strange voice in her head nearly drove Vera into a panic. When she realized she was hearing Max, she nearly flew into a second panic, the sire’s strong, firm voice only reassuring her that all of her fears were correct and he wasn’t going to like her very much. 

As she walked along the beach, bare toes sinking into the sand, Dwayne at her side, Vera briefly wondered how hard it would be to kill Max if it came down to a struggle. Did she have a chance against him? Maybe, if she stooped low enough to cry for her own sire, he would come and take care of it—

“Hey, chill out,” Dwayne said, stopping and turning towards her slightly. “What’s wrong?”

She realized she had halted and was simply standing there, staring at nothing as her mind raced. He could probably feel how freaked out she was getting, and as she looked at him, she found a gentle, understanding expression on his face. 

“C’mere,” he said, his voice low and rumbly and comforting. 

He opened his arms in invitation and she dove right in, moving quickly and desperately enough that she knocked him right onto his ass. He landed in the sand with a laugh, situating the two of them so that she could sit in his lap and they could face the dark, never ending ocean. 

“Did Max freak you out?” Dwayne asked as Vera tucked her head under his chin. 

“...a little.” 

“Why?”

She sighed. Something about Dwayne made her feel so safe that she was actually considering talking with him about things she hadn’t even told David yet. “Because I’m not used to this. I’m used to vampires who want me out of their territory the second I even get close, and I can’t really blame them.”

“This is your territory, too.” He said. “You’re the one who’ll be kicking people out of it now.”

“I don’t think Max is going to like me.” She grumbled. 

“Why not?”

She was quiet for a moment, fiddling with the zipper of his jacket. “Because he’ll see me as a threat.”

“Max isn’t like that.”

“You’re just saying that now because he’s your sire.”

“No, I’m saying it because I mean it.” Dwayne rested his cheek on the top of her head, his hand absentmindedly rubbing circles on her back. “Max wants a family. Now you’re part of that family.”

He sounded so sure of his own words that Vera was actually feeling inclined to believe him for a moment. “Parents don’t tend to like me.”

“Anyone who can handle having Paul in their pack can handle you.”

She scoffed. “He isn’t that bad.”

“Maybe to you.” Dwayne chuckled. He tightened his arms around her when he realized that his jokes weren’t very reassuring. “Max is a good man. A good sire.”

“Why?” Vera asked. “What does he do that makes you like him so much?”

“Well,” Dwayne situated them a bit better, getting more comfortable. “He’s fair. He acts stern, but...he sees himself as our father.”

“Don’t they always?” Vera grumbled. 

“He calls David his prodigal son, but he always wanted a whole family. He ended up with the four of us.”

“So, what? He plucked you all up out of the gutter and that makes him a good guy?”

“Why are you so determined to hate him?”

“I’m not!” she protested. “I’m just...wary.”

“Max gave us new lives.” Dwayne sighed. “He found us back in San Francisco after we got ourselves in some trouble with another vampire.”

Vera had to snort in amusement at that. “Seriously? Who’d you pick a fight with? Dracula?”

“Well…”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He flashed her a smile. “How were we supposed to know who he was?”

“Humans really have no self preservation instincts, do they?”

“Apparently not.” Dwayne chuckled, squeezing her. 

“How long ago was it?”

“1906, same year as that big earthquake. Tore the whole city apart...it was the perfect time for four vampires to start learning how to survive, with all that chaos. People were dead, more were missing...nobody noticed a few more disappearing here and there.”

“Is that why Max and, uh...Vlad were there?” Vera asked. 

“I imagine.” Dwayne shrugged. “We resisted at first. David was especially pissed off.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Vera laughed quietly. 

“But...we took to the lifestyle pretty quickly.”

“And that’s that?” Vera asked. 

“That’s that.” he shrugged. “Max wants to be a father figure. He turned David because he wanted a son, and he taught him everything he knew. Then, he decided David needed companions, and he happened to find me not long after. Then the others. Max isn’t a bad guy, Vera. You’ll see.”

“That’s what everybody says about their own sire.” she said, looking out at the black waves as they crashed against the sand just a few feet in front of her. “Everyone wants to talk their sires up, because without them, we’re nothing. Just because your own sire is nice to you doesn’t mean he’ll be nice to me.”

“What’s so bad about your own that you think ours is so awful?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, Vera’s mouth pressing into a thin line. “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Dwayne opened his eyes, rubbing his cheek over the top of her head affectionately. 

“I’m not.”

“I know that you are, though.”

Vera let out a frustrated noise, then heaved a sigh. Maybe talking about this could be good for her. Maybe verbalizing thoughts and fears that she’d been living with for centuries could finally help her get over them...and if anyone was a good listener, it would be Dwayne. 

“Okay, fine.” she said. “What’s so bad about my sire? Everything. Everything is what’s bad about him, literally.”

“Where’s he from?” Dwayne asked. 

“The old country. Like...the old old country.”

“Why are you so reluctant to talk about him?” Dwayne’s voice was low and gentle, barely audible over the sound of the waves. 

“Because he’s got a reputation.” she fiddled with the hem of her shorts. “Most older vampires know of him. You guys might not, and if we had a different situation, I’d say it should stay that way.”

“That serious, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“Hmm.” Dwayne’s chest rumbled. “The others should hear about this, too.”

“Yeah, they should.” she sighed again, her voice small. She felt small in general, all curled up in Dwayne’s lap like that. Small and helpless. She wasn’t, though, and she didn’t want them to think that she was. So she cleared her throat, trying to muster as much confidence as she could, ignoring the mild twisting in her gut. “I’ll tell you guys everything tomorrow night.”

Dwayne made a small, impatient sound. 

“Max will want to hear, too.”

“That’s a good point,” he admitted. “You know, I still need to hunt for you…”

Vera perked up slightly. The thought of food made the tight feeling in her chest loosen up slightly, and she looked at Dwayne eagerly. “Yes, please.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her as he stood and set her back on her feet. “Then let��s go find some snacks, Princess.”

-0-

“You know, we don’t have to do this. We could just go back to the cave--”

“What happened to that tough attitude you had a few days ago?” David raised an eyebrow, looking amused as he pulled Vera off the back of his bike.

“I’m still tough,” she growled, knowing that he could very easily feel how nervous she was. 

“Come on, babe,” Paul parked his bike next to David’s and bounded over to her. “You’ll be fine.”

“We’d never let anything happen to ya,” Marko said, following Paul. 

Vera knew he was telling the truth, but it didn’t make her feel any better. She had barely slept the entire day, waking up restless and on edge as soon as the sun disappeared, and it had taken a good deal of coaxing from David to even get her to leave the roost. They took Star and Laddie to the boardwalk, dropped them off with some cash, and then headed off to Max’s house.

David told Vera along the way that Star and Laddie weren’t allowed to know where Max lived. They really weren’t allowed to know anything about him in general, in order to protect him, so when the pack walked up to the front gate of their sire’s home, it was only the four boys who accompanied Vera. She didn’t mind; having Star around would have only put her more on edge, probably, and she had been glad to leave the halfling behind. 

As she faced the gated bridge that led to Max’s completely normal-looking, Californian home, Vera did everything she could to act confident. She squared her shoulders, held her chin up, and pretended that she had nothing to worry about...but the boys could see right through the facade, and as they joined her, they all fell into a little formation. In moments, Vera was surrounded by them, David offering his arm while the others stepped into their spots behind. It made her feel better, knowing that they were all there to protect her...but at the same time, she still wished they were all out wandering the boardwalk. 

“So brave,” David sneered as she took his arm. 

“Shut up.” she growled, vaguely aware of Dwayne’s hand on her lower back. 

“Relax,” Marko purred. 

“Don’t you dare tell me to relax, Marko, I swear—“

The barking of a rapidly approaching dog interrupted her, the sound of paws thumping rhythmically against the wooden walkway drawing her attention away from the boys. A big white hellhound was barreling towards the gate, all teeth and rage, and although it looked like it wanted to tear her limbs off, the sight of such a beast made Vera temporarily forget why she was so anxious. Even as it barked and snarled and threw itself against the gate, she thought that it was absolutely adorable.

“Oh, look at you!” She squealed as the boys all jumped back. When she took a step forward, David tried to yank her towards him, but she slipped away easily, too focused on this hellhound to care. 

“You’re such a big handsome boy,” she said, in a voice that made Paul jealous. 

“No fair,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “Why’s the dumb dog get all that?”

Marko glanced at the taller blond nervously. “Don’t call him dumb, you remember what happened last time?”

Paul groaned, rolling his eyes at the memory of nearly losing a hand. 

The dog stopped barking as Vera approached, falling silent as it sniffed the air around her. The vicious look on its face was gone, replaced by curiosity, and when Vera ignored David’s irritated warnings and reached over the gate to pet it, the animal whined. 

“You must be Thorn,” Vera cooed, scratching behind its ears. “What a big, brave, hell-y hellhound you are, yes you are!”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Paul said as he watched. 

“What?” Vera asked, looking over her shoulder at him. 

“Thorn doesn’t like any of us.” Marko huffed. “Why’s he like you so much?”

“Well...he can probably smell my sire on me,” Vera said. “Might remind him of home. Hellhounds usually like me because of that.”

“...Home?” Paul asked. 

“I’ll tell you later.”

“But I wanna know now!” he whined.

Thorn growled at him. 

“Thorn!” a male voice called from the other end of the little bridge. 

Vera immediately stiffened. The front door of the house had opened, and in it stood a man, wearing a very stylish suit and horn rimmed glasses. Thorn heeded his master’s call, giving Paul one last woof before trotting back towards Max. His departure freed the front gate, and David brushed past Vera to open it, taking her hand and leading the gang across the walkway. 

“Boys,” Max greeted as they approached him. He offered David a stern smile, one which David didn’t return, and when Max’s eyes fell upon Vera all tucked up against his side, his eyes narrowed slightly. “And you must be Vera.”

She didn’t like that he knew her name. It was inevitable that he’d find out what it was, but still...she kept clinging to the hope that maybe, he wouldn’t learn too much about her. The boys seemed so convinced that Max was just an annoying father, but as Vera took him in, she could see that behind the trendy, 80s-dad facade, there was an old, powerful vampire, and those were the kind she didn’t get along with very well. 

“Well, come in, everyone, before dinner gets cold. I made sure to get all your favorites, boys.” Max stepped to the side, inviting them over the threshold in a very courteous way, one that suggested he had nothing to fear from the boys or Vera.

“You shouldn’t have,” David sneered sarcastically as he walked in. 

“Would it kill you to be nice?” Vera hissed. 

He rolled his eyes.

Max noticed the exchange with a bemused expression on his face. “Go on in and sit down. The table’s already set.”

The house was nice. It wasn’t incredibly extravagant, by any means, but it was perfectly well decorated, modern art that Vera didn’t quite know how to appreciate hanging on the walls. Everything was clean and organized, not a speck of dust in sight, as opposed to the state of decay the boys kept their lair in. Max seemed to enjoy playing the role of a video store owner, and his home reflected that; if anyone came to visit, they wouldn’t see a single item out of place, nor would they have any reason to be suspicious of him. There were no torture devices, no loose vials of blood sitting around, no skulls or human skin nailed up. It looked so...normal. 

Vera almost stopped to wonder why exactly she was so nervous...and then she heard the whimpering.

“Geez, Max,” Paul remarked as they rounded the corner and entered the dining room, “you really shouldn’t have.”

“Well, fresh caught is always the best,” Max said. “Don’t you agree?”

“Hell yeah,” Marko growled, lips pulled back in a grin. 

The dining room table was covered in an array of meats, from a suckling pig in the center to a rack of ribs at the end. Six chairs surrounded the feast, plates and cutlery set out at each spot, with big glass goblets already half full of blood ready and waiting. Next to each chair stood a human, frozen due to both fear and Max’s vampire magic, a couple of them shaking and considerably more conscious than the others. 

Max walked to his place at the head of the table, Thorn at his side as he took his seat. David sat at the far end, facing him, his eyes dark and hungry as he held himself back. Dwayne sat at David’s left side, Vera at his right, while Paul and Marko took the remaining two chairs and tried not to completely lose their minds. They were shaking almost as much as the humans were, Paul looking at his blood donor eagerly while Marko held a little sneer on his face that suggested he was about ten seconds from ripping his apart.

“Dig in, everyone,” Max said, taking his cloth napkin and tucking it into his shirt collar. “But please try not to make a mess. There’s more than enough here for each of you.”

David immediately grabbed the arm of his meal, sinking his fangs in and taking a drink while Max preferred to drain his into the goblet he had set out for himself. Vera could only watch, stunned, as the carnage began, and before long, she was joining in. The human Max had caught for her was a middle aged clergyman, and she had to tear through his holy sleeve to get to his flesh. 

She didn’t mind, though; she very rarely ever got to eat members of the clergy. They were generally too much work to hunt down, and since she had an aversion to churches, well...like most vampires, she tended to leave them alone. It was hard to nab them without making a spectacle and letting the entire town know that something was amiss. So, all things considered, a little bit of extra work involving a mouthful of fabric was worth it. This was like a special treat for her, and she couldn’t help but drain him all in one go, still holding on even after he had collapsed in a bloodless heap on the floor. 

When she looked up, she realized that Max was watching her. 

“So,” he said, speaking over the hellish sounds of the others slurping up their meals, “I believe some congratulations are in order. Welcome to the family, Vera.”

She swallowed her last mouthful of blood and looked at him. “Uh...thanks. I-I mean, thank you.”

Max picked up his silverware, cutting a slice of ham for himself. “Where are you from, Vera?”

“I wander,” she said, following suit and stabbing her fork into a raw steak. 

“I’ve surmised that much,” Max chuckled good-naturedly. “I meant where are you from originally.”

“...oh.” She cleared her throat somewhat awkwardly. “Italy.”

“Italy!” Max exclaimed. “Such a lovely region. I haven’t visited The Mediterranean since I left the old country myself. If I didn’t have the shop here, perhaps I’d take a trip...have you been back recently?”

“No,” she crossed and uncrossed her legs, trying to act like she wasn’t fidgeting. She took a bite of her steak, focusing on the blood as it trickled down her throat. 

Max reached for his goblet, raising the blood to his lips and taking a drink. “And your sire, is he still in Europe?”

Vera almost choked on her food. 

By this point, the boys were all watching. Paul was licking blood off his lips while Marko still had his dinner’s forearm in his mouth, but David and Dwayne were both focused solely on the conversation at hand, their eyes narrowed slightly as they listened. 

When she realized that everyone was waiting, Vera coughed into her fist, clearing her throat. “Y-yes, he is.”

Max’s eyes darkened, despite the smile on his face. “You know you need to tell me about him, Vera.”

“There’s not much to tell,” she lied, turning back to her steak. “Just an ancient vampire, out there in the old country. Not very exciting.”

“Exciting or not, I’d still prefer to know who he is.” Max said. 

She shrugged, reaching for her glass to take a nervous drink. “I doubt you’d know him.”

“When you drink that blood, you’ll be joining our family.”

She froze, hand on the stem of the glass.

“I’m sure your sire will be able to feel it. I’d hate to be rude and not even know his name in the event he visits one day.”

Vera stared at the blood—Max’s blood—as her fingers tightened around the stem. “You don’t want him to visit.”

“Oh?” Max asked, appearing as relaxed as ever. “Why not?”

“Because of who he is.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “And what he can do.”

Dwayne and David glanced at each other. 

When Max spoke again, his voice was softer, gentler than before. “What is your sire’s name, Vera?”

With a great deal of effort, she opened her eyes again, still staring into the blood rather than at any of them. 

“Asmodeus.” She said. “My sire is Asmodeus.”