#also i need to make flash cards with these words lord help me

[dragpinkman]

guess who wrote down homo instead of hemo when breaking down the latin and greek words for describing things (in this case blood) and learned the word spermatozoon is actually a correct word and not a fucked up pokemon

[polizwrites]

WIP Update - 4 Jan 2023

Had an incredibly productive  writing week  - trying to get those last few squares done on my MWAP and SBB bingos and doing some other events, too!   I touched 7 fics (2 WIPs & 5 new works) for a total of  3564 words!

On Ao3, I posted  several more fics:  -- Marked Up Soulmarks  (Steve & Tony Soulmates AU with hinted-at WinterIron, Teen) -- Moving Forward (Using All My Breath)  (WinterIron PWP, Explicit) -- No Ordinary Boy is Gonna Do  (WinterIron High School AU, Teen) -- Make My Heart Come All Undone  (WinterIron No Powers AU, General, WIP) I also contributed to The Knack to Flying with Flair: Or, in Other Words, Hold My Hand - A WinterIron Round Robin   (WinterIron identity porn, kinda, General)

On Tumblr I posted  Not Too Far Down the Tracks,  a Stony College AU for last week’s Flash Fiction Friday.

I carried over 10 WIPs from 2022  with my current  deadline being the Bucky Barnes Bingo  (ends 7 Jan) and Steve Rogers Bingo (ends 31 Jan). 

See below cut for the WIPs  (arranged more or less by bingos/challenges/etc) I am working on  -   feel free to send me prompts or plot bunnies as well as asks regarding any of these projects   (or any other WIPs I’ve got out there) – they really help feed the Muse and keep me motivated!

Man With a Plan (Steve Rogers) Bingo [MWAPB] Ended  31 Dec

Ended up with nineteen fills, and four bingos (Rows 2 & 5 and  Cols I & O) with three leftover WIPs.

Man with a Plan Bingo Masterpost  

StarkBucks Bingo - Round 3  (SBB_R3) - Ended 31 Dec

Ended up with nineteen fills and  five bingos (Rows 3, 4 & 5 and Cols N and G)  with every fic helping to contribute to a bingo! 😁   Carrying two WIPs forward from this bingo. 

StarkBucks Bingo Masterpost

Bucky Barnes Bingo - Round 4 [BBB_R4] (Runs thru 7 Jan 2023)

Nineteen fills,  two bingos so far  (Row 1 & Col K) and four WIPs. Shooting to get Col B/Row 3 and Col C bingos as well. Since I have ideas for pretty much every square, I’m hoping we can carry squares over into the next round.  

* B3 - Sam Wilson|Falcon -  Posted Chapter 2 of After One Or Two False Starts   yesterday.  This chapter is Bucky POV and came in at 315 words.   I may add more to this story if there is interest/inspiration

* U2 - AU: Roommate  -   First draft of  Adverse Possession is done;  Clint POV post  CA:WS  incorporating the following Meet Ugly prompt:  "I bought a house three months ago but I’m finally moving in and discover you’ve been squatting because you’re homeless.”  It’s coming in at 906 words and will get posted on Friday. 

* U4 - AU: Arranged Marriage - Picking Lady Natasha’s Consort and Lord Steve’s Companion  back up for this one as a crossover with my TSB IronWidow square.  Chapter Three is coming in at 948 words and will get posted Friday or Saturday.

*C5 - “This might as well happen” -  Used this toward a second WinterIron All that Glitters event Round Robin that will hopefully post before Saturday.  Will need to make sure to submit a square fill form.  

* K3 - KINK: Edging  - Posted  Moving Forward (Using All My Breath)  on Friday.  It’s Bucky POV with toy play and Tony as a power bottom and crossed over  with  TSB   K3 - KINK: Orgasm Denial/Edging - it came in at 904 words.

Sam Wilson Bingo - Mini Holiday Round (SWB_MH) - Ends 20 Jan

Two fills posted for this  3x3 holiday event card - Shooting for a bingo/crossover with BBB squares.

* A1 - Secret Santa  Sam’s bound and determined to figure out who keeps leaving little bird-themed gifts for him around the Compound.  Need to start getting words on paper for this., 

Steve Rogers Bingo - Round 2  (SRB_R2) - Ends 31 Jan

Seventeen fills posted with 2 bingos (Row 3 & Row 1)   & zero WIPs at the moment   – aiming for 2 or 3 more bingos before the event wraps.

* A4 - Touch Attention/Denial  - I have an idea for this that will also fill (heh) my Stucky Bingo  KINK - Double Penetration square.

* B2 - Mile High Club -  This will be the second chapter of Never Have I Ever (But I Want To With You), picking up with Tony’s POV after the events of Chapter One. This is probably the next fic I’ll pick up.  Possibly combine with TSB  Tony’s Poor Life Choices?

* E2 - Comics Nomad Steve  - SWC sketch of Nomad!Steve

* E4 - Mental Bondage - crossover with TSB KINK: Concubine -  Potential Title My Voice The Chain that Binds You

* D5 - Long Distance Relationship - Not Too Far Down the Tracks was a surprise fill, since it fit so well with last week’s  Flash Fiction Friday Prompt  Late Night Train.  It’s a Stony College AU ficlet that came in at 320 words & will post to Ao3 sometime next week, I think. 

Tony Stark Bingo - Round 6  (TSB_R6)  [Ends 28 Feb]

Seventeen fills and two WIPs at the moment -    with  Vague Ideas for almost every other square.  

* T2 - Doing Groceries - if I expand a bit on Not Too Far Down the Tracks,  (see SRB Long Distance Relationship above)   I might be able to squish this square into that fic!

* T3 - Pepper Potts/Rescue -  some sort of remix of/inspired by sabrecmc’s  Indecent Proposal  from Pepper’s POV.  At this point, I think I need to re-read the fic & take notes …  

* T4 - KINK: Concubine - see   SRB  E4 - Mental Bondage?  

*A5 - Scott Lang  - 27dragons shared an interesting plot bunny during the Sept TSB Discord party that I may end up using; that or a follow up to A Piece of the Action

* R1 - Tony’s Poor Life Choices - see SRB Mile High Club above.  

* R2 - IronWidow -  next chapter of Lady Natasha’s Consort and Lord Steve’s Companion ?  see  BBB Arranged Marriage above

* K2 - Secret Admirer -  carried this over from last round so I could try my hand a remix of Seeds of Love  (WinterIron hanahaki fic by the super-talented @hddnone).  Potential title:  Wraps Around My Heart, Refusing to Unwind

* K3 - KINK: Orgasm Denial/Edging -  see BBB KINK: Edging  

Stucky Bingo Round Four [SB_R4] (Ends 31 May 2023

Eight fills and one WIPs with a couple of other vague ideas.

* B1 - Mutual Pining -  no specific idea, but it’s so On Brand for me I’m sure I’ll come up with something!  (maybe a SWB crossover for a triad?)

* B5 - KINK: Double Penetration - see SRB   Touch Attention/Denial  above.

* O4 - AU: Supernatural - got inspired by a dream to start a Stucky fantasy AU (magician!Steve/ensorcelled!Bucky) that @bill-longbow  is collaborating on with me.  This was supposed to fill my Man with a Plan Bingo Soulmates square, but I ran out of time on that bingo.   We’re currently sitting at 1640 words  (984-ish of which are mine).   Will probably continue on this sometime in January.   Current Last Line:  "My men will accompany you back to Brookline in the morning.”

I also adopted the Writing Format: Remix one of your fics  square  – am thinking of taking one of my Stony or WinterIron  No Powers fics and adapting it to a Stucky pairing – if you have any requests - hit me up!  

WinterIron - No Powers AU  –  Stony No Powers AU

————

On other creative fronts:  I have Baby Shakespeare Lizard  and Buc-ee Stuffed With Character figures in progress -  still working on the figures/props for my three Marvel Trumps Hate  auction winners as well (6 of87 done so far) – thanks so much for your generous support!!  Finally, I am prepping for a superhero con in March  and another con in June  so am pretty well booked up through spring/early summer.

That said, if you’re looking for one of a kind gifts for birthdays or other celebrations in 2023, check  out Stuffed With Character   over on Facebook for a full list of my designs (now over 80!).   They’re  mostly Marvel and monsters, but I have some Star Wars, Star Trek, DC   and Disney figures as well. Plus I love to take custom design  requests  for any fandom!

[diavolosthots]

Felt like crying, so I came to you, my friend! Mc and Mammon went out shopping, specifically to buy gifts for his brothers, as an apology. When they get back home they are met with hostility. They berate Mammon until Mc screams at them to shut up, then rips into each of them for their treatment of Mammon. Then finishes with "Don't expect Mammon to stay here when he can live with me in the humanworld. I'm done with you. Mammon, lets go, you deserve better, love" and leaves w/ Mammon. Thank you!

You came to me because you felt like crying and that gives me two (2) things to think about. 1.) I'm apparently someone who people see as a tissue? 2.) My angst is just THAT good. Also! Apparently today is rain on Mammon day and I'm here for it not me avoiding my exam to write these things

Warning: uh.... Angst?

Soul-Searching (MAMMON X GN!READER ft. THE BROTHERS)

“You know, I’m proud of you for suggesting this.” Truly, you were. Mammon was your favorite and you felt for him, but you also completely understood where his brothers came from. At first, it honestly annoyed you as well; the constant stealing, the lying… You tried blaming it on his avatar, but even then it doesn’t explain the lying that comes with it. However, you do realize that it’s a habit and it’s a habit that is hard to fix, so instead of constantly getting onto him like the rest, you tried to understand him a bit more and give him some life advice. So far, you have managed to get Mammon to give back all the things he has recently taken from his brothers, and some of them even got an apology. You’ll be working on how to properly apologize, though, because oof, that was a mess. 

And now? Now you managed to take a small trip with him downtown to at least attempt to make things better. Mammon is now, or at least today, using his own money to buy some things that his brothers would be fond of: a new vinyl player for Lucifer (non-cursed), a new Ruri-chan t-shirt for Leviathan, a neck pillow for Satan because lord knows he has some cramps back there with the way he leans over and down to read his books. Then some perfume for Asmodeus that he had been swooning about, a gift card to Beel’s favorite restaurant for the glutton, and a heated blanket for Belphie. You were proud, truly, that Mammon wanted to do this. As a matter of fact, he was the one who suggested it. “Maybe… uh.. I could… ya know… buy somethin’ they like” is what he said. You were just excited and agreed to help. 

Now you were going back to the house with a few shopping bags and ice cream almost fully eaten. You paid for the ice cream, as a way to reward Mammon, and you’re sure he’s secretly thanking you for that because some of these items truly did burn a hole into his credit card, which is partially his fault. “Lucifer deserves more than some random vinyl player.” his words, not yours. Also “satan needs one of them neck pillows that massage it, too!” again, his words. So yeah, some money was definitely spent on these items, but… once again, you were proud. “I think they’ll love everything, Mam. They’d be fools if they didn’t.” Hearing you say that made Mammon feel a lot better, honestly, and a small rush of confidence came to the surface “Ya betcha they will! Nothin’ but the best from the Great Mammon!” You just laughed. 

However, upon arrival, it was a different sight. As a matter of fact, you barely made it through the door before Beel was grumbling something about Mammon eating his custard, which is true, but it’s just a custard? “MAAMMMOONNN!!” and then there was Lucifer who appeared so fast you wondered if he was even real. He went on a whole rant about how irresponsible Mammon is and how another bill came in the mail that talks about Mammon’s debt. Satan and Belphegor teamed up to show empty hands, which left both you and Mammon confused, but then “do you see anything here? No? That’s because you sold our belongings, Mammon!” Mammon can be lucky that Leviathan was still holed up in his room because he just remembered that he also, at some point in the past, sold one of Levi’s figures. Asmodeus came last and honestly he wasn’t mad, he was just annoyed. “I saw you go through my things, Mammon. Nothing was taken, but it was still so incredibly rude!” 

Next followed a screaming match which was basically just Mammon trying to defend himself, trying to show the bags and apologize, but none of them would have it. It irritated you. Yes, they had every right to be mad because personal belongings should stay with their owner(s), but at the same time, they didn’t even give Mammon a chance to explain, especially after he’s been holding the bags up and attempting to apologize. “You’re so stupid, Mammon” “StupidMammon” “so irresponsible. You know better than that. Do you need another time out session, Mammon?” “I can’t believe you’d go through my stuff again!” by now your eyes were twitching and the voices echoing off the walls surely didn’t help your case. One more word and you’d snap, surely, especially since Mammon’s hand is now shaking and you grabbing it did nothing at all. “We would be better off without you.”

Ah yes, there it is. The final straw. The amount of anger boiling inside you right now isn’t even manageable anymore and you’re surprised that Satan, as the Avatar of Wrath, has yet to notice it. “Shut up! Shut up, Shut up, Shut up! All of you!” You yanked Mammon behind you, almost protectively and Belphegor found the need to laugh at it. “Really? You’re going to protect him?” Oh, there. That’s your first victim. “Are you really that dense, Belphegor, or is sleep still clouding your brain cells? That is your brother you’re currently making fun of and I don’t know about you, but I was taught that family sticks together, blood related or by choice. So how about you get your head out of dreamland, take this stupid heated blanket that he bought for you, as an apology, and wake up for a second.” yes, you did throw the bag at him and then you pointed your finger at Beel. You’d regret later on that you’re tearing into him as well because Beel means well at the end of the day, but still, he was also part of this. 

“You’re my least worry, Beel. Honestly you’re too caught up in your burgers and brawns to care for a second that your brother tries very hard to be liked by all of you. Sad, really.” you threw the card at him too. As a matter of fact, you threw all of the bags right in front of them. “And then Asmo.. oh my God, first of all, the world doesn’t revolve around you. Shocker, I know. If you were half as empathetic toward your family as you are obsessed with yourself, maybe you wouldn’t feel the need to always go party and drink your life away. Oh, I’m sorry, did that hit just a little too hard? Can’t be harder than the hangovers you wake up with on a regular basis.” You glared at him before turning your attention to Satan. “Honestly, if you weren’t such a baby inside I may actually be scared of you. You always complain about how stupid he is, how he needs to just learn, but you? What do you do all day? You hole yourself up in your room and read about worlds that you wish you could enter. News flash: you’d die before you had the chance to say hello. People don’t like self-proclaimed assholes. Mammon IS smart. He’s very talented, too, but you’re too far up in Shakespeare’s ass that you fail to realize that everyone has knowledge in different fields of life. Give me a break.” 

Satan was about to retort but you already moved on to Levi. “and you! Let’s be honest, if it weren’t for you wallowing in self-pity and fake depression, you would have absolutely no personality traits. What are you again? The Avatar of Envy? How about instead of being envious of others’ accomplishments, you actually start working on yourself. It’s truly pathetic that a couple millenia old demon’s only purpose in life is ramen and self inflicted emotional pain. Seriously, what are you? A pitiful loner? I can’t even begin to empathize with you in any way, shape, or form.” Your blood was boiling right now and maybe if they hadn’t attacked Mammon like they did, you would’ve felt bad about Levi’s sad face right now, but there was still one person left to deal with.”

“And you… beautiful, responsible, way-too-good-for-you older brother, Lucifer.” He’s been glaring at you this whole time, arms crossed over his chest but you stood your ground. You’re not quite sure how you managed, but you did. “You call yourself the best, the most responsible. You constantly say this family would fall apart without you, but that’s not it, is it? I think you’re just lonely. You force these six to be by you, to respect you and borderline worship you. Not because you deserve it…” you chuckled, shaking your head, “no. You’re just so sad that Daddy and Michael left you, mocked you, that you turned your sadness into anger and took it out on these six, but especially Mammon. Why? Because you see yourself in him. You call him your favorite brother, but it’s not because he actually is… he just reminds you of everything you used to be: fun, reckless, and feeling. Now you’re just cold, mean, and bitter. Don’t bother calling yourself the mighty first because without him you would be neither. Maybe if you pulled that stick out of your arse and actually tried to get to know your brothers, maybe you wouldn’t be so lonely all the time. Family, right? That’s what you want. How about you start acting like one.” 

You shook your head after that, grabbing Mammon’s hand and kicking the bags in front of you before dragging Mammon back out the door. “Those are for you, by the way. Not that you deserve them, but they’re Mammon’s way of apologizing for all the things you accused him of the minute he set foot into the house. Have fun. We’re going to the castle and, if we’re lucky, to a real home.” 

[cosmiclatte28]

I was wondering if you could have yuta comfort a fan during a panic attack? I really love cute nicknames too if you can add them in. If it doesn't apply to your rules I understand. I personally love kpop idols comforting fan scenarios

this is my first request after a long time, and I enjoy this :D

thank you for sending the request !!!

trigger warning : panic attack, strict and controlling family

@unadulteratedmusiciansrockalien thank you for sending this, hope you like this :D

nets @superm-net @multifandomnet

Another day of the life you never wished or dreamed of. The beep from the microwave brings you back to reality, you bend over to take a cup of hot water and drop in a bag of tea. While your hand plays with the tea bag, bouncing it up and down as you calm yourself by watching the brown color fusing into the water, your eyes catch the shadow of your most feared man.

“Good morning, dad.” you greet him and try to hide your face from him. This man who has raised you, is not your biological father. Your mother remarried a man who is so successful in his land and properties business. You detest him though because he forced you to earn a marketing degree when all you wanted to do was be a pediatrician. Words were exchanged back then and his words were unchangeable, he made you take a marketing degree and he’d been controlling your life until now.

“Ready to meet our biggest client? Lord Hyuck from the Lee family is planning to buy and invest money on our newest property area. They are going to make a factory for silicones and if their business is doing well, they might take over the neighboring land too.” he stirs his morning coffee with glint of hopes in his eyes.

Your body stiffens, why does he have to give the most important project to you? You will just mess it up and you won’t be able to convince him to buy the land. Even worse, what if the lee would never buy land or properties from your dad anymore? Will you be a disgrace?

You pause your bouncing activity and clear your throat “I’m sorry but why should you assign me on this big project?”

Your dad raises a brow “Well, of course because you are my daughter and I don’t trust the other employees. They might make a deal behind my back, adding some prices or make a secret deal that could backstab our company. I know, you won’t do that right?” he pulls his “family is who you can trust” card and your finger cannot stop drumming your cup. You’re nervous! Despite being the daughter of the chairman, you’ve always taken the smaller projects because you cannot deal with the nerves of sitting and bargaining to big people.

“I don’t know if I can, dad. Can’t you send Mr Seo instead? He’s your loyal senior marketing agent.” you sip on your cup, your dad not noticing the tremble in your hand.

He shakes his head “I want to give you a big project now and I know you won’t mess it up for me. Right (y/n)? Show me that you are worthy and show me what you’ve learned from the most prestigious school here! Now chop chop, Yuta will be responsible to drive you there at eleven.” with a pat on the back, he leaves you there.

“You got this,” a co-worker who accidentally heard your talk reassures you.

“Thank you Taeyong, I hope so. Well, let me just prepare myself then.” you giggle nervously, stomach already churning and ready to just run to the closest restroom and throw your breakfast out.

You’re super nervous. Meeting new people is not your comfort zone, talking to new people makes you sweat and you are tired of being controlled.

---

“Big project ahead, but I know you will be okay.” your loyal caretaker and personal driver whispers when he opens the door to help you inside and takes over your stuffs.

You sigh “Yuta, you’re only making me feel more nervous.”

He ruffles your hair and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze “No worries my little angel, I will be here. Do you feel suffocated in this car?” you flash a small smile and take a deep breath. “Yes/ I don’t feel like sitting in a closed room, Yuta do we have another option?”

Yuta smirks and steps out of the driver seat, “Well, yes of course I have, my lady. Please step out and we will be on the road soon.”

You wait for him in the lobby, your head keeps on repeating the breathing exercise Yuta taught you.

He returns with a pair of helmet and a motorcycle on his side. Yuta calmly puts it over your head and you keep fidgeting with your fingers.

Breathing still feels hard, you know you’re almost having a panic attack but you keep hypnotizing yourself that “I am experiencing a panic attack. It feels scary but it will not cause physical harm.”

The loyal man takes your hands and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Breathe with me darling, slowly but deep.” he coaxes you in with his deep soothing voice.

When he sees no objection from you, Yuta pulls you closer into his embrace and runs a hand on your back. “This feels awful sweetie, I know. but it’s not going to hurt you”

You close your eyes and limp yourself into his hug, “Breathe, breathe.. I am okay, I can breathe. There is nothing stopping me from breathing.” you chant to yourself and Yuta just keeps stroking your back. Calming you down with all his warmth, lovely touches, and white noises in your ear. His warm hand makes his way to your neck, he touches you there and just keeps your body standing. You melt deeper into his body, really loving how he can sooth your panic attack.

He hums soft tunes into your ear, he breathes calmly by your side so you can follow him and he keeps praising you for being a good girl in calming yourself down.

“Yoshi-yoshi, there my good girl. Breathe with me okay, you’re doing so great.” he giggles when he feels you tense a little from his japanese words.

When you calm down and stop shaking, Yuta cups your face and stares into your eyes with his soft amber ones.

“I am always here for you okay my sweetheart. I won’t leave you ever.” his thumb caresses your cheek and you blush.

“Thank you Yuta. I think I’m ready to go.” You play with your hair. He presses a quick kiss on your forehead and one more on your cheek. “Good girl.”

He takes a seat on the motorcycle and you jump behind him. Yuta smiles when he sees your face less pale. “Keep breathing my dear, I know you can do that. Hold on tight,” he grabs your hand and hugs it over his waist. “Do what’s comfortable darling. You are safe here with me.” he winks and soon after takes off to the busy street.

You close your eyes and press your cheek to his back, your arms still hugging Yuta tightly from the back. His musky cologne calms your nerves down and hearing Yuta’s heartbeat also makes you feel safe.

Both of you make it to the meeting place. You step down from the vehicle and Yuta helps you take off the helmet. He runs his finger slowly to fix your hair and when you want to open your mouth asking if you look good he already beats you into it. “You look stunning. Now, I know you will do amazing. Mr. Lee is kind, don’t be scared. I will be on the table next to yours, if you need anything I will always be there.” Yuta plants a quick kiss again on your cheek and touches them slowly. You lean your cheek into his palm and take his other free hand, lace it with yours and squeeze it “Thank you Yuta! I love you.” you blush as you plant a quick kiss on his lips and then run away to step into the café before your client comes.

Yuta still stands next to his motorcycle, eyes wide open, cheeks red. He shakes his head to regain his composure and smirks “That little angel, she woke up the devil inside me.”

end

[gloryofluv]

The Art of Wooing: Greed

So, you’re trying to bag yourself a wild MC! Well, you’re going to need to learn the art of wooing there, immortals. Courting behaviors are quite particular for each different type of demon/angel/human, so, there’s definitely room to try everything! Let’s see how they do it.

Pride

Okay, okay, okay. This demon rarely knows what the hell he wants… however, he did know for sure he wants you! Deep down. You were the thought he had late at night when terrible dreams wreck him. He misses your touch and your voice. However, he’s not really great at feeling these things.

He woke up one night and began writing. It was with such passionate urgency that he needed to get it out of his head. The words on the paper were all about you and how he could figure out how to tell you. How he could actually get to it. It ranged from getting you to confess your undying love to figuring out how to rent out a private beach and ask for your entire heart.

It was something he fell asleep doing with a pen still in hand. Grant it. It’s still ridiculously early for him to ever think about saying a word to you. This damn human that you are, collecting pacts from his other brothers. He kinda felt this way from the very beginning, but damn, feelings are kinda hard! These feelings, whatever they were.

What’s even worse is he wants to tell you. The more you smile at him. The more you wear his jacket when you’re cold. Instead, he snaps at you for looking at him weirdly and grumbles about putting your gross (it’s actually the best his nose ever smelt) scent on his things. He can’t help it! This word diarrhea just spills out.

“It’s just that, ya make it different, human. Ya make me feel different. Why can’t I just say it to your face!”

So, when he’s alone in his room, he’s agonizing over what he said. How stupid?! No one could ever have affection for a demon who’s that much of an asshole to them. Gah! He hates it! Still, he perseveres and tries something new. Things! Humans like shiny things, right? Well, that’s what credit cards are for, but, well, he can’t look desperate, or else his brothers will catch on. (News flash: They clearly know.)

Now, he buys you custom shoes, a nice jacket that he says came packaged smelling like him. It didn’t; he had rubbed his wings and spritzed it with his cologne. Oh, maybe you both should wear similar glasses too! That would be good. You’d see him when you look in the mirror, right?

Soon your room is filled with things from Mammon to Lucifer’s great stress about the creditors howling. Oh, another shiny thing! Must collect for human! He also sends his little feathery friends to bring them to you randomly throughout the day. You say you need a snack… Well, a cute little bird just brought you your favorite packaged Devildom chips.

“Now, you guys, don’t tell em’ I’m doing it, okay? They don’t need to know it’s from me.”

You know. It’s fucking really, really, really obvious. Don’t call him on it, or you’ll make his two baby steps forward, two giant leaps back. So, you have to play along. Baby steps. His brothers are a huge roadblock to success for him. Man, he fucking knows it too, but he can’t help it.

Poor baby… He actually doesn’t know how to do this right. It isn’t until you’re gone that he really starts to feel the lack of you there. All the dicking around and fighting over feelings when the word finally comes to him. He loves you! Fuck does he love you. Watching you die, watching you with his brothers, watching you live… He just needs you in his life, forever!

“Fuck, fuck, what do I do? What do I do? They just can’t be gone! There has to be a way!”

This demon plans. Elaborate, chaotic, world-disturbing plans! First, all the familiars are sent to watch your home, and he sends them with baubles and small reminders of the Devildom. Of him. Then, he gets desperate. He begins begging Lucifer to let him go to the human world. That doesn’t pan out, so he asks Lord Diavolo. He’s unhelpful.

It just so happens Solomon is his odd savior in this mix. You’re back! He’s fucking terrified… What does he say? It’s actually you. You do the heavy lifting after this long. You kiss him and really kiss him. He’s done for. Did he die? Is he dead and didn’t even know it? You kissed him! You missed him? You want him? You love him??? Yeah, he’s dead but totally okay with dying if he means he can kiss you again and again.

“Ya know, we could, if ya want, do this all the time. Just you and me, human, what do you say?”

[subbing-for-clones]

The Alpha and The Omega Part 3

Alpha Maul x Omega Reader

Word Count: 5k

WARNINGS: Mentions of murder, talk of slavery, mentions of guns and other various bounty hunting shenanigans

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      Maul didn’t know what to expect when he entered your ship; he had tried not to have any expectations. The main entrance opened up to the cargo bay that took up the whole footprint of the ship. He could see the cryo-freezer and storage in one corner and made a mental note to look into getting one for his own ship; he may not mind the smell of the bodies he collected but he preferred the idea of handing in quarries that weren’t decomposing by the time he turned them in. Labeled crates of food supplies and ammunition lined the walls along with a surprisingly high amount of medical equipment. The center was left open, for training purposes he guessed. He had thought that this layout was fairly standard for a high-ranking hunter and despite his best efforts not to assume what he would find on the upper level he was astonished.

    You obviously lived here full time on the ship you had fondly referred to as the Wolf, the hatch opened up into a hallway from where he could see the door to your cabin left open. He fought the urge to look inside out of respect and followed you through the common area toward the cockpit. He did allow himself to stay a few steps behind you so he could glance around.

    The kitchen had been expanded from a small standard kitchenette to a more comfortable cooking space with a large pantry. A quality wooden table sat off to the side with some kind of potted green fern in its center, rather than a flimsy durasteel counter. Plush rugs of different colors had been scattered along the floor and a doorless closet imbedded in the wall showed massive amounts of folded blankets and extra pillows along with other soft looking comfort items. Post cards from countless planets littered the walls surrounding the space. You had even managed to fit a sofa and bookshelf in one of the corners without making it seem over crowded.

    He didn’t say a word as he sat in the co-pilot’s chair beside you, setting his worn bag on the floor next to him. You had even managed to decorate this space; warm blankets hung over the backs of the chairs and photos of you with other hunters hung on the walls that lacked control panels. Some of the photos were located in bars, others looked like more traditional hunting parties; friends with their arms around each other in front of massive beasts that lay slain. In one, he recognized the Mandalorian he had met on Tatooine pissing into a Sarlacc pit with you laughing boisterously in the side of the frame with your head thrown back. Something in his hindbrain whispered to him.

Omega makes it home.

He blinked his attention back to you when he realized you had said something.

“You alright Maul?” you asked him again when the fog left his eyes.

“Yes, my apologies, I have just never seen a ship like this before.”

“Yeah, I move around a lot so over the years I made it more comfortable. Easier than having a home base like some of the others try to keep, cheaper too,” Maul nodded in understanding before turning back to you once you had broken through the atmosphere and started tapping away at the nav computer.

“Where are we going for the first quarry?”

“We’ve got a runaway wife of some rich wannabe crime lord. Need to bring her back alive for the whole sum or dead for only twenty five percent. Last seen on Anaxes, guess she liked tinkering with the ships back home, probably hiding out as a mechanic or something there. I want the whole purse. I know you like bringing them back cold but I’m not settling for a fraction of the price.”

“Runaway wife should be easy,” he folded his arms as he studied the hologram the puck projected.

“Should be, I’m not worried about her. She’s young and pretty, I’d be shocked if she didn’t have at least a few guys keeping an eye on her; but them we can kill,” you pulled back a lever and the stars stretched around the Wolf throwing the two of you through hyperspace. You leaned back in the chair and kicked your feet up.

“Listen, I’m not one to beat around the bush. I picked her to grab first because I doubt we’re going to run into a situation with her where my life will depend on you not fucking me over,” you turned your head to meet his eyes that were already on you, “I know you’re a dark force wielder and I know you can feel that I am a force user too.”

Maul’s top lip pulled up in a snarl and his eyes narrowed, “are you a Jedi then? Have you orchestrated this to trap me?!” the hilt of his saber flew out of his pack and into his hand but he hesitated to ignite it when fear pheromones seeped out of you.

Your scent gave you away but your posture didn’t waver, “I used to be, years ago. I was kicked out of the order when my gene presented,” you chuckled, “my master found me naked and writhing on the floor of my room,” your chuckle had grown to full-fledged laughter, your shoulders shook at the memory all but forgetting the pissed off Alpha at your side.

“I- I still remember the look on his face. Fucking horrified when I had my first heat,” you took a breath and wiped a tear from your eye, “they told me I had to leave before I could even face the trials for my knighthood,” your expression turned slightly solemn, Maul had relaxed in the seat next to you. He didn’t think they would throw out one of their own simply because of a biological mutation.

“I’m not doing this to trap you or anything like that Maul,” you turned again to face him, “Bane helped me out after I lost everything I ever knew. I heard a rumor that you didn’t know you were an Alpha until recently either. I’m just trying to return a favor paid to me.”

Maul turned to watch the stars as they flashed by, dropping his saber back into his pack. He hated the Jedi, he had even hunted a few who had left the order or were kicked out after breaking their precious code; but you were different. Cast out because you didn’t fit into their mold, not unlike him.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you caught his attention again, “I don’t dislike all of them. It’s been years since I’ve seen any of them but I don’t plan on burning the temples to the ground. If you want help with a bounty or need some underworld information I’m your girl; if you wanna fuck with the Jedi you’re on your own. You and Cad are the only ones who know about that past and I plan on keeping it that way.”

“I understand.”

You stood and nodded to the door, “come on I’ll show you where to put your gear.”

    He followed you out of the cockpit and into the common area where you pointed to an empty cabinet, “so, Sith are back huh?”

He went rigid as he put his pack with all its contents still inside on the shelf, “why do you assume I am Sith and not just someone who dabbles in the dark side of the force?”

You leaned against the wall and crossed your arms, “I lived my whole life at the temple. I never saw or heard of you or anyone who looked remotely like you there so I know you’re not a fallen Jedi. You have a light saber so you’re also not some self-taught back water force sensitive individual. That only leaves one option.”

“I’m not a Sith anymore, my master thinks I’m dead and much like your own desire to keep your past private; I’d like to keep it that way as well,” his eyes narrowed again. He was equally annoyed and impressed by your deductions and his hind brain spoke again.

Omega is smart.

He was already tired of this intrusive voice in his head. Perhaps it was a mistake to come with you after all. His scent had turned abrasive in your nose and his signature was wavering.

“Hey, calm down there, Alpha I’m not here to mess up what you’ve got going for yourself. I’m just trying to make sure you’re not going to slice my head off of my shoulders with that pretty red blade of yours.”

“No, I’m not going to kill you. I just want to make a life for myself.”

“Good,” you turned to another cabinet and pulled out a few extra blankets and a pillow and made up the sofa for him, “you can sleep here, it’s more comfortable than it looks, I promise,” with that you turned away from him and made you way to the cabin.

“Oh, ‘freshers the last door down this hall. Won’t be long until we arrive, rest up if you can,” with that the door hissed behind you and locked, leaving him standing alone in front of the sofa with much to ponder. Even out of your immediate presence, your scent permeated the air around him and wafted out of everything in the room. It was difficult to think, surly not all unmated Omegas were so intoxicating. He shook his head and softly walked down the hall and stepped into the fresher.

    He almost smiled, almost. Why had he expected a standard washroom? Of course you had a full sized -sanistream shower and a deep tub instead of a sonic. Another plush carpet lay underfoot with soft towels hanging on a bar. Various perfumy bath oils and soaps sat on the counter top in a decorative array along with a few candles. He was starting to wonder if you really were the renowned bounty hunter, ‘Meg, he had heard about or an imposter living a lie. He would soon find out. He splashed some cold water on his face before wandering back to the sofa you had made up for him.

    He removed his cloak and kicked off his boots, setting them both to the side before laying down and pulling the blanket over himself. It was soft and warm, more so than anything his master had provided for him. It smelled like you too, he tried not to think about the fact that it gave him incredible comfort and eased both his worry and his tensed muscles. Wrapped in your scent he fell asleep faster than he ever had before in his life.

      You did not find sleep on the way to Anaxes. Despite sinking into your soft bed, despite surrounding yourself with all of your favorite pillows and blankets and even trying to meditate, you could not ease your thrumming heart. Why had this Alpha’s scent been so strong? It made your mouth water and your thighs clench. He had released a new wave of soothing pheromones when he fell asleep and yet they did nothing to calm you. You ached to crawl onto the sofa with him and wrap yourself in his arms, to burry your face into his scent gland and bare your throat for him to… Maker what the fuck? You were disgusted with yourself. An ex-Sith and an ex-Jedi? Gods the trouble that would cause, such wonderful, inebriating trouble.. no.

    You wanted to comm someone to ask them about it. You couldn’t call Zeni or Coth, they had been trying to set you up with a mate for years, they would tell you to just get it over with. Couldn’t call Fett, it had been awkward to say the least since you gently turned down his offer for courtship. You looked over at the hat that you had just hung from your bed post. Maybe Bane could tell you what this was all about? He had had a mate before and wouldn’t give you the same answer as Zeni. You sighed heavily, missing Master Plo’s wise words and wished to hear his voice again. Would it be a terrible idea to make a stop on Coruscant and try to visit when you had fulfilled your current obligation?

    Probably. Maybe not? You huffed frustratedly and buried your face into one of the pillows for the tenth time. Bane, you’d comm Bane when you had a chance after picking up your privately commissioned bounty. Just as you attempted to close your eyes again a quiet beeping rang out from the vambrace you had discarded on your side table. You groaned unabashedly and smacked the button to turn it off. You still had some time and your stomach was grumbling so you didn’t bother to change out of the long shirt and baggy pants you wore. Pride be damned.

    Still, you tried to be quiet when you left your room to put the caf on. Your eyes immediately fell on him. Chest rising and falling steadily, wrapped up in the blanket you had given it, he was clutching it to his nose. The crease in his brow and frown on his lips gone; lost in his slumber. He was handsome when he wasn’t irritated, hell he was handsome when he was too. You watched him for a moment a voice in the back of your mind whispering.

Alpha looks warm

Alpha looks safe

Oh fuck no. You grimaced at your Omega brain that rarely reared her head. You turned and started rummaging around the pantry, working by the light that poured out of the door to your room so you wouldn’t wake him.

      When Maul did wake, it was to the smell of hot caf and cooking meat. He sat up slowly and looked around before he saw you leaning forward over the counter, face lit by a data-pad, sipping out of a steaming mug. Your eyes flashed up and met his, “Caf?” you offered.

    He grunted and nodded his response before standing and making his way behind you, looking through cabinets. You smirked down at your data-pad and without turning to him, held out an empty mug you had gotten for him. He took it with a quiet thank you and filled it. His smokey spice filling your nose in this proximity and without your knowledge, your sweet earthy smell filling his.

    He peered over your shoulder at the data-pad you were reading from. With a sigh you pressed a button to it projected the hologram, desperate for a little space you sidestepped slightly. It showed the blue prints for the assembly yard you suspected she had run off to hide in.

“It’s going to be highly populated,” he stated simply.

“We’re not grabbing her from the assembly line. She may have a price on her head but I’m not keen on the idea of explaining that to everyone and their supervisor.”

“Follow her home after her shift then?” he took a long drink of the caf and plated the both of you some of the meat before sitting at the table. At least he has manners.

“Precisely. Boss said she took a bunch of cash with her so I’m guessing she’s got an apartment outside the complex instead of sleeping in the employee housing. I got an idea where she might be working within the facility…”

    For the next hour the two of you ate as you pointed out where they worked on the simpler components. Based off of her limited knowledge she was most likely working with less complicated, smaller parts of the ships. You had pointed out the where those were and when he asked how you learned this you showed him how to find and read the blue prints and get the shift change schedules. All tools of the trade so to speak.

    You had taken a shower and after landing outside the city, started to gear up in the cargo bay. He watched with a confused look in his eye as you strapped dual blasters into your shoulder holsters and a large knife onto your hip. Pulling on your mid-thigh length coat, you filled one of the pockets on your utility belt with a few darts of different colors and a blow gun on the opposite side.

“Why not just bring your saber?” you must have looked at him like that was the dumbest question he could’ve asked, and it was.

“You’re kidding, right? You are not bringing yours,” you held up your hand and started counting each finger as you spoke, “for one, it’s a highly populated area and we are both in hiding. Two, we’re bringing her in alive and as unharmed as possible. Three, even if we were bringing her in dead, in a low pop area there’s always the chance someone could see and word travels fast. If you’re going to thrive in this line of work, you’re going to have to branch out,” you rummaged through the large locking cabinet before handing him a mid-sized blaster. “It’s set to stun for now,” you pointed to show him how he can set it to kill and got him a knife.

He took them with a growl, “I am quite familiar with other forms of weaponry thank you very much.” You just raised your palms up in mock defeat with a scoff.

      Two days. It took you two days of staking out the assembly facility before you found her. Two days of distracting heavy breathes. Laying so close to him, peering through scopes at entrances during shift changes from rocky terrain had you irritable to say the least. At least he was quiet, kept that damn sultry voice to himself. If he was as affected as you, he had the common sense not to let it show. Little did you know; he was. He kept the sights glued to his face so you couldn’t see how blown his pupils were. You let out and audible sigh of relief when you finally did spot the pretty blonde woman. Her hair tied back and a much too large jumpsuit billowing off of her form. You watched as she mounted a speeder bike and took off away from the complex. You had rented one in town when you first arrived claiming to be in the market for a ship.

    You turned to Maul already at the controls, he simply nodded his head for you to climb on behind him. He didn’t miss how you jumped at the silent command, despite trying to touch him as little as possible. You kept your eyes on her through the electrobinoculars while he navigated from a safe distance behind her. Your free hand was grasping the loose fabric of his tunic at his lower back. Your touch felt electric to him.

    You watched her dismount and silently followed her through the apartment complex, it was run down and had a rusty smell that wafted off the walls. Just before the door could hiss closed behind her your boot caught it, the fail-safe caused it to whoosh open again. As you rushed into the home with Maul on your heels you withdrew your knife and before she could even blink her shock you had spun her around with the blade pressed to her throat.

“Well, you are a pretty little thing, aren’t you? Now why would a woman such as yourself be running from your doting husband?” you taunted her. You weren’t usually so hostile to unaggressive quarries but you were still bristling at the effect that Maul had on you. Some should-be-dead instinct telling you to show him you were strong. She whimpered as Maul smirked and handed you his set of binders before doing a perimeter scan of the apartment.

“P-please don’t take me back to him. I can’t go back. You must understand. I… I know you do!” Your brow creased at her statement before it hit you. Maul was in the back room so his scent wasn’t fogging your mind and with your nose so close to her scent gland there was no mistake. You bound her hands behind her back and pressed your leg to the back of her knees; forcing her down into a kneeling position on the floor.

“Shit,” Maul reentered the room in a hurry at your curse, eyes searching for some kind of trouble. You watched it hit him as hard as it you. Your eyes locked on him as he sniffed the air and pull his top lip back in a snarl. She was another Omega but, she hadn’t been marked. No Alpha’s scent had mixed with her own and you looked at her as confused as Maul did before she turned her attention to him.

“P-please Alpha. Help me, don’t send me back to that- that monster. Please Alpha…” she was trying to shuffle over to where he stood on her knees. Maul had expected her scent to be as strong as yours was to him. Before this woman, you had been the only unmated Omega he had met but she was nowhere near as intoxicating as you had been, as you are. She was annoying, a nuisance, weak. Nothing worth protecting. You reached down and dragged her by her bound hands back to where you had put her and kneeled in front of her.

“What the fuck are you doing married to a beta?” your finger jabbing her sternum in an accusatory manner.

“I’m not his wife! Fucker bought me!” you cringed at the term. Bane had warned you about Omegas being bought and sold but you had yet to run into any of them.

Maul wanted nothing to do with the woman before him, he saw her as a feeble and overly fragile but a fleeting thought of you being taken by slavers and sold to someone else fluttered through his mind.

No one takes Omega

He growled his disgust at the idea. You thought for a moment, weighing your options.

“Where were you taken, before you were sold?” your eyes held her gaze unblinkingly in the dimmed room, Maul had moved to stand closely behind you.

“Trandoshans, they came and took me from a cantina on Tatooine.”

You rolled your eyes at her so hard you risked giving yourself a headache.

“What in the absolute fuck were you doing on Tatooine without an Alpha to protect you?” you stood and paced around the room, “Fucking stupid ‘mega,” you cursed under your breath but loud enough that she could hear you. “You don’t have to be a hunter to know the whole planet is a slaving capital!”

“I know… I know!” she had dissolved to tears and sobbed her lamentations, “please, please don’t take me back to him!”

“Oh shut up!” you returned and slammed your balled fist into her chin, knocking her unconscious. Maul watched with a pleased grin gracing his face, you pointed your finger in his direction still fuming, “don’t you start with me too. Take her on your bike back to the ship. I’ll take her bike. I have to think about this.”

He growled but kept the smirk while he hoisted her up onto his shoulder. He paused just before passing you utterly amused and whispered, “Ah yes, let the anger fuel you,” before he left. You shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose.

    You didn’t want to admit it but he was right. These years of faring on your own had been on one hand, great, incredibly fun even. Living outside the code was unrestricting but, on the other hand, you had wondered if your soul had darkened along with everything else. Times were not always good. You honestly wished you cared. You wanted to care so badly but, in all honesty, you didn’t. At this point in your life the force power you carried was just another blaster in your arsenal. Another set of binoculars in your pack. You didn’t, couldn’t let it guide you like it once had.

    To your relief, he had followed your instructions; he had left with her. You took her bike and made your way, a little slowly. Enjoying the fact that you could barely smell him from your current position. You had hoped that you would get used to it but you still hadn’t. ‘The Bitch’ you like to refer to your Omega brain as, her voice just continued to pop up with intrusive thoughts. More so than after being around any other Alpha. You wondered if the woman he carried at the moment had a similar experience.

    The hull was open and Maul had loaded the woman and the bike into the cargo bay. She was starting to stir as you brought the bike up next to his. The fear in her eyes returned as her consciousness did and she started to shriek causing both you and Maul to wince. You grabbed a rag and shoved it into her mouth to stifle her sobs. Once again you knelt down next to her, “Maul, tell her to be quiet so that I can explain something to her.”

“Why would she listen to me?” you rolled your eyes.

“Because you’re an Alpha, a particularly… pungent one as well, I’m assuming she lies on the more subservient spectrum as far as Omegas go, she will obey,” you turned your attention back to the woman, tears streaming down her face. As you had guessed she immediately silenced at his command.

“Now then, listen closely. Nod if you understand me,” the woman nodded still wide eyed at you, “good. I have to take you back. If I don’t the bounty will remain open and someone else will come to collect. You can’t just run off again either. Well, you could, but odds are your ‘husband’ would just rehire me to come pick you up and he pays well so I would take it. You have two options. One, return and play the good wife and deal with whatever comes with it. Two,” you reached into your pack and took out two differently colored capped darts, “I slip these into your bra, you let me freeze you like a good little girl and return you home to collect my pay. After he unfreezes you, you stab him with the green one to knock him out; anywhere in his body. Then inject the black one into his neck to kill him. Once he’s dead you can escape and no one will bother to come looking for you because there will be no one to put a bounty on you.”

She weighed your words heavily and you practiced your patience, truly sympathetic to the woman. You were an exception, Omegas were strong yes but, most were incredibly subservient; even without an Alpha. She mumbled something behind the gag and you scoffed before removing the rag and she gasped.

“I want the darts,” her conviction was steadfast and you breathed a sigh of relief, “put me in the freezer with them and I’ll take care of the rest.”

    You reached your hand into her shirt with a slightly apologetic look while you nestled each dart under an individual breast, she nodded her thanks after you reminded her which was which and helped her to her feet. You gave her one last look before taking the binders off. Maul watched you hesitantly as you guided her into the freezing chamber. She gave you a sad yet thankful smile, it was slight but as you pressed the buttons and activated the gasses it froze on her face. Soon, she’d be free. You guided the block into the freezer storage and locked the door behind her before allowing yourself to ungraciously slide down the wall until your rump hit the floor with a soft thud.

    Almost forgetting you weren’t alone you tossed your hat to the side somewhere and ran your fingers through your hair and rubbed one of your eyes, exhausted from her emotional affliction.

    Maul could smell your distress, his instincts told him to comfort you, to hold you and tell you that everything would be alright. That he’d protect you, that he’d never let anyone lay a finger on you. That your fate would never become hers. Instead, he settled for sitting beside you with his legs crossed, without looking at you he spoke, staring down at his feet, “you gave her a way to take her own freedom.”

You hummed, just acknowledging that you heard him and sat next to him in silence for a few minutes. His pheromones were comforting, his presence was soothing and for the first time you didn’t fight the effect they had on you.

Alpha will protect me.

    Once again you shook ‘the bitch’ away and made your way to the cockpit. You flew closer to the shop you rented the bike from and opted to keep the other Omega’s for yourself. While Maul was returning the bike, you pressed a few buttons on your vambrace, calling Bane. Within a few moments the side of his face appeared in the hologram. Blaster fire whizzing by his head.

“You alright ‘Meg?” that raspy voice you loved sounded frustrated with whatever mess he was currently in.

“Yeah I’m fine, listen I got a question for you when you’re not busy.” He took a second to face you head on with a smirk, “What makes you think I’m busy?” as if on que a bolt took the hat right off his head and he cursed. You laughed and shook your head.

“Just contact me soon, don’t die out there old man.” He grunted in response and the hologram dissipated right as Maul was sitting down in the copilot’s chair.

“One down, where to next?” he eyed the comm that Bane had appeared from warily.

“Smuggler fucked over Jabba, a Talz. Last seen heading towards Hoth; no doubt to escape the heat literally and figuratively and hide amongst the Wampa. Can you take us up? I’m starving.” He nodded and took your seat while you headed back to the common area. You doubled over and clutched your stomach, “shit,” the pain all too familiar but coming much too early.

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The Stone’s Toll - Chapter Five

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Claire sat nursing her glass of expensive cognac. Neither of them initiated a conversation, preferring silence to the inevitable argument that would ensue. 

 It was Christmas Eve when she returned. Little over a month and a half in that soul leeching ward. Frank had decorated the house with holly, and ivy, and even some sprigs of mistletoe in an attempt for some normalcy. 

 “Claire, I’m sorry for what they did to you. I was angry at you. You not only chose to leave me once but twice over. You’d rather die than feel my touch. I wanted to feel anything but utter despair. I’m sorry it has taken me so long to return you home.” She offered no response. 

“Do you have any idea just how difficult these last few months- past few years have been for me Claire? How utterly exhausting it has been to deal with your loss and then now this? I don’t wish to fight you on any of this. Let us have a civilised conversation please.”  

 “How hard it’s been for you!” Her mouth hung open in shock. “You think these past few months have just been a fucking picnic for me!” She stood in her anger and seethed at the fireplace, back turned from her husband. 

 “Of course not, but did you ever stop to consider how I’ve felt about anything?” 

 “Did you ever consider my feelings when you were sticking your cock into one of your students?! God, did you give me one of their diseases?” Shock plastered over his face. “Oh don’t act so surprised, I’ve smelt the perfume and all those long nights at your ‘office’.”

 “Claire, be reasonable. You’ve only let me touch you once, and that was before I was intimate with anyone else. Not all of us are such mendacious sluts.” 

 “Oh and I’m sure you were an exemplary student of abstinence while I was ‘missing’, for fuck’s sake even during the war, because clearly me being the ‘mendacious slut’ that I am I wasn’t entirely faithful either!” 

 “I don’t wish to fight you anymore Claire, something has recently come upon my knowledge during my research, and it affects you. Please have a seat.” He gestured to the decanter on the side table and poured a glass for her.

 “It pains me to see you like this Claire. I can’t in good conscience force you to stay here and slip further and further away from me every day” Frank sucked in a breath and smoothed his hands over his thighs. “It angered me to see that you’d rather die... than be with me. That you chose his memory over me, a living, breathing human being, and I couldn’t even be sure he was real. Still can't. Can you not see Claire why it took me a while to finally decide upon your release?”

 The hazy buzz that normally surrounded her mind now had started to fade, if only slightly. Claire squinted at Frank and nodded. 

 He paused, calculating his next words. 

 “I’ve done some research with the Reverend. We’ve been in communication since you’ve told me what happened.”

 Frank adjusted his collar. He stared at the stack of papers to his right on the desk.

 “And well we certainly found evidence of your presence in the past, but there are other things.”

 Claire stared straight through him, she didn’t need to worry about her glass face showing something wrong. She felt nothing. This confirmation made no difference for the hell she had been through. The numb feeling had taken a while to crawl over her body the past few months and she welcomed it. It felt better than the suffocating dread and grief she originally felt.

 “I know I must let you go. Go to him I mean. It’s the least I can do for the pain I’ve inadvertently caused you, Claire. Please forgive me. It’s unbearable for me to live to see you this way, even if the alternative is to send you back.”

 “He’s dead, Frank. They all are.” Her lips thinned into a line. “I have nothing to live for.” 

 She cringed at her last choice of words. She didn’t want to cause him unnecessary suffering. But she was too tired to lie, to protect him from such verbal blows.

 “But Claire. He survived.” His white knuckles wrapped tightly around the armrest of the leather chair and he flexed his jaw. “This man, this Red Jamie was exonerated of his crimes, with a pardon from King George II himself. And his lands returned in reparation.” 

 “How-how can you tell me this? You know what I- God what you put me through. Why would you give me this hope?” 

 “I’ve also found one Alexander Malcolm and his,” he gulped, “wife Elizabeth Malcolm. But Claire, this is your hand on the document. A christening, where Elizabeth, where you’re stated as godmother in a church in Broch Mordha. But then there’s also this purchase of a croft on the Isle of Lewis, with the same signature as Alexander Malcolm.”

 “Please, Claire, allow me to make amends for whatever part I’ve caused in your suffering. If there’s some piece, some knowledge I can give you, it would ease my mind considerably. I don’t wish for you to waste away before my eyes, for the rest of our days in resentment.” His lips tightened into a thin line. “I met someone while you were away. The new assistant under me at Harvard. I think,” he paused, “I think I love her as you love your Jamie. Let us divorce and I’ll give you what funds I have.” 

 “You’re just- okay with that?” 

 “Claire, you haven’t been my wife in years, not really.” 

 “So that’s just it? I offered divorce when I returned, and finally accept when you’ve damaged me. My mind, my soul!” He winced at the sight of circled bits of skin on her temples. 

 “And I am regrettably sorry, darling.” He reached for her hand and squeezed. “I know this is what you’ve wanted ever since you’ve returned. Please, let me make this easy on you. I have the banking number for what covers the divorce settlement. It should be enough to purchase a flight to London, and then I know the inheritance from your parents and uncle should help you on your way to Inverness.” He slid over a paper card to her, detailing the whereabouts of the money he was offering her. She kept her arms crossed tightly over her sternum, not wishing to take any charity from him.  

 “There's another thing. Your son, the name they said you called out in your sleep every night. I have this death certificate of one Fergus Claudel Fraser. Marked March in the year of our lord Seventeen Forty-Five.” Tears sprang in her dry eyes at the mention of him. He pulled out a sheet from the pile of papers he collected and shoved it over to her side of the table. 

 “Why are you doing this Frank?” She couldn’t bear this physical proof that she had left her son to die without her. 

 “Here is one Fergus Malcolm, on the Isle of Lewis, a year after his ‘death’ and you're on this too. Or rather your alter ego one Elizabeth Beauchamp Malcolm. If nothing else, will you not live for him? Even if the proof of him amounts to nothing, that he really did die at Culloden? Please, take the money, and the papers. I’m hoping it can ease my conscience from all the torture you’ve endured.” 

 The last thing Claire wanted to do was ease Frank’s ego. She wanted him to suffer. But here was a lifeline, a way out and back to her family. She would see Fergus again if fate allowed. Her mind would never allow her to comprehend the other piece of hope before her. The one sure thing she knew was Fergus, he had been whole and alive the last she saw him. And there was something urging her to him. A panicked urgency. Her mind flashed to the nights after her therapies, when his presence in her dreams was almost so real she could feel his touch after she woke. She quickly signed the paper he offered. Claire Elizabeth Fraser. The wet ink shined against the thick paper. His suffering would have to wait. Her fingers began to twist the gold band on her finger but Frank stopped her. 

 “No, keep it. It will have value when you… return. The papers will be sorted by the time you’re gone, and we’ll both be free.” He swallowed sharply. “Know this Claire. I still love you, and I always will.” 

 He had a funny way of showing it, Claire thought. She didn’t dignify his statement with a response. She left him in the living room to pack, and as the sun rose the next morning her bed and dresser were empty. 

 Frank set aside some money for the divorce settlement into Claire’s own account. She withdrew the three hundred pounds without a second thought, and purchased a ticket to London. It barely covered the cost of a transatlantic flight, which was more of a luxury than anything, but she could afford to spend money, not time. A ship between would have lasted weeks, not hours. She was left with little over fifty pounds to find her way to Inverness. The only things she carried with her were her pearls, sgian dubh, the ring without its ruby stone, the copious amount of papers from Frank’s research, her old botany pocketbook, and a change of clothes, all packed into one small suitcase. Her things barely fit half the space inside it. The gold band hung around her neck on a chain now, instead of resting comfortably on her left ring finger. It clanged against the skin between her breasts with every sway of her steps. It was decided over a very pricey international phone call, she would go see Mrs. Graham.

[burningthemidnightcityoil]

ON CLASSES

Classpects run on Irony, Puns, Wordplay, and each class has a secondary verb, in addition to the one they share with their pair.

Witch - Which. “Choose / Choice”. A Witch chooses power. Witches are the Powerhouse of the Session(cell). They are akin to Thieves, for a Witch takes power. But the difference here is that a Witch doesn’t need to take it from other people, a Witch takes back their own power from whatever Guardian (or “familiar”) has it. Its not like an Heir, where the Heir can just wait for it to come; a Witch has to grab it or be forced into its service.

Heir - Air/Err. “Inherit”. An Heir inherits power. While Heirs are akin to the Page, where they both inspire others to help them; the difference here is that Heirs will inspire others to Guide them (Literally inspire others to act as Seers), while Pages inspire others to Serve them (Inspire others to act as Knights). Heirs don’t like being Served (In fact, Heirs Homestuck-Historically have conflicts with Guardians because of their Service), and Pages don’t like being Guided. (Most Pages tend to talk smack about those trying to Guide them)

Mage - Magician. “Perform”. Mage’s are showy, in addition to being knowitalls. How you are Seen is Important. There are three Mages, two known and one HC’d, that give this. Sollux, inspite of his problems, is a Show Off and tries to play it off Smoothly. His performance is more important than his powers (Or Spells, if we’re dedicated). Meulin also tends to be Showy. Both by showing off her favorite couples, and by her Disciple self showing off her rommance on literal cave walls. HC’d Mage, Diamonds Droog / Draconian Dignitary, is all about the Show and the Class, and not about Flash Powers or Transformations.

Seer - To See. “Envision”. Seers See Seas. What you see is important. Unlike their counterpart, the Mage, A Seer’s visions are more important than their Spells. (This is inspite of the fact that both Mages and Seers are equally capable of both Visions and Spells, as well as Performance. It seems what what indicates if you’re a Mage or a Seer is if what’s important is How you are Seen, or What you See; A Mage wants to be Seen, a Seer wants to See).

Thief - To Steal / To Steel / Steel yourselves. “Enforce”. If Knights are the Law, Thieves are the Enforcers; because they literally reinforce themselves by taking what they want. Let’s take this a step further, and include all definitions of Enforce Thieves Strengthen, Intensify, Force, Drive and Urge whatever they set their sights on, to be what they want it. (After all, they Steal, or Take By Force / Violence)

Rogue - To Go Rogue / Haywire. “To Cross”. Rogues are pretty good about making connections, and making connections work; be it between people, or their Aspect. (Roxy between her Friends and her Windows; Nepeta with her Romances)

Knight - Night. “To Bare / Bear”. Bear hands? This may seem outlandish, but the origin of the word Night is “Bare” or “To be Bare of Sunlight”. And Knights tend to put on a kind of Mask, or Shield, or rather, Helm / Helmet as they feel their weaknesses (or what they think are their weaknesses) feel bare to the world (Dave and his Sunglasses; Karkat and his Temper; Latula and her Gamer Attitude).

Page - Chapter. “To Assemble” YOU BOY, EQUIP ARMS. This one took a bit, but what’s a Page without a Chapter? Be it a Chapter in a Book of Pages, or a Council to of all those they have called on to serve them. A Page is a Knightly figure that has a Round Table, akin to a Rogue’s Merrymen. A Page inspires others to play Knight to them, or to serve them. To call to Arms, or call to Action. So basically, if Robin Hood is a Rogue’s Mythic figure, King Arthur is a Page’s mythic figure. So literally, all those a Page calls on personally, makes them apart of their Round Table of Knights. (Wait, does this mean that HS^2 Jane is Morgan Le F--)

Maid - Made. “To Make” Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice. Maids are the Makers. They don’t so much as Maintain, though they do that too, as they create. Consider. Aradia is a prime example. She dies, so she makes Time for herself as a very powerful Poltergeist. She becomes a Robot, and makes Time for Herself by her many many Robot Time Copies, or as Time is Numeral, making Numbers. She becomes a Godtier, and suddenly, Time in the Dream Bubbles align perfectly with the Present. Notice how when we are first introduced to the Dream Bubbles, Time was a real nonlinear pain. But when Aradia took the Reins on this Time Management Stuff, and suddenly the Dream Bubbles were Linear and aligned with our Story. She did want to see the end, after all (And the more living Time Gods entered the Bubbles, the more Linear things became) For Porrim, its about Making Space for others in both her various views and her uh... Various Views. For the Dolorosa, this included making Space for herself, and for her son. She possibly even helped direct him closer to the idea of Freedom (And he did see visions of another space in time...)

Sylph - Sylvan / Wood Threshold. “To Matter” Okay, this one is like the Knight’s, if not more complicated (and likely gonna require more development in the future, cos this took waaay too much digging for my liking). Thing is, Sylph is a difficult thing to name from name alone unless you look into the word itself. Because its derived from Sylvan “Of the woods”. But we break that down into two things. Silva, the Woods, and Hyle, Matter. Hyle / Hule is already the Greek word for Matter or Wood in any case. And our word for Matter is already derived from Mater, the Latin word for Mother. (The original English word was displaced by Latin; Andwork was once our word for Matter). Unfortunately, I can’t quite make the connections here yet, so I’m not sure if “To Matter” is the proper verb. I can, however, describe some loose connections that at least tell me I’m on the right track: ... Sylphs are defined by their Environment; Such as Kanaya’s relations regarding Trolls (A motherly figure), Aranea defined herself by Information and giving Information (which ain’t healthy), Mindfang defined herself a Thief because the Troll Empire was lead by a Thief And HC’d Sylph of Mind, Snowman was, quite literally, the Universe (And its Multiverse, which is a Mind thing). So a Sylph defines herself by her “Woods”, or like a Nymph / Dryad, by her “Tree / Wood / Matter”. And when you kill the Tree / Wood, you kill the Sylph, and vice versa (Destroy the Matriorb, and Kanaya dies; Kill Snowman and you kill the Unvierse; Mindfang was murdered, and her Enlightenment about the Doc died with her).

Prince - Principle / Foremost. “To Postulate” Its the Principle of the matter. For Princes, Principle and Code are key, and they will follow these as a fundamental truth (and be damned to anything else). This is likely what it was meant when they were called a Destroyer Class, because they do tend to destroy all avenues when it doesn’t fit their Principle. A Group of Princes could be called an Argument. For Eridan, both the system he resided in, and his own internal narrative (his Hopes), were his fundamental truths. And in the end, it fucked everything up. For Kurloz, his Belief System and his chosen Lord were his Fundamental Truth (And Rage is about Truths; so this guy didn’t just have a fortified castle, he had an entire armored country) For Dirk, the Character someone presented was the Truth of the matter, and the Character he presented. He believed that all versions of him were Him, and that was his biggest flaw, because they weren’t. AR was no more Dirk Strider than Bro was. ... And unfortunately, one version of him took this very literally (HS^2).

Bard - Barred / Bar. “To Prevent” Bards are quite the Wild Card, because how the hell do you manage destroying stuff for other people’s benefit and it actually ensured that it is a benefit? But from our few examples, Bards do act as great barriers. They keep things on the path because if you didn’t have that barrier, you wouldn’t progress, or you’d go too far too quickly, or things could go out of hand. For Gamzee, he tends to invoke the idea of the Barrier Maiden (He does roleplay a fairy / maid). He can’t die cos he’s a Cosmic Keystone to things happening like they’re suppose to. Paradox Space, literally, cannot let him die because it needs him to complete the Alpha Loop [By extension, no Doomed Timeline ever has a Dead Gamzee, he’s just that important, the stupid fuck] / [consider the theory that he also absorbs his alternative selves to keep his keystone status; like how Rose absorbed her alternative dream self] (Though when you take him from his story / destiny / fate, he’s just another mortal shitty clown). Gamzee prevented Rage, for Homestuck to continue as its intended narrative. For Cronus, his little Hope Quest was a direct line to Lord English (being the evil wvizard in his little Harry Potter fantasy). But this blew up royally, because as it turns out, it isn’t up to the Beforus Trolls to do shit. So just as Gamzee’s crisis of Fate put things back on the Path to LE and prevented catastrophe, Cronus’s crisis caused catastrophe. He prevented Hope for the Beforus Trolls, because it wasn’t their Story. And now for my HC’d Bard of Doom, Clubs Deuce. He does exactly what it says, he Prevents Doom. Inspite of what it appears, he’s highly competent because that prevents things from going to hell. For CD, he prevented Doom, for his Crew, and the sessions he’s involved in. And any time CD tends to disappear from the picture, is when things go to hell fast (For the Crew, Cans showed up; for the Beta Session, he was a mere herald for the doom that was already coming and his death cinched it)

[chibinekochan]

How to become a Demon Ruler 111

Part:   01 I 02  I 03  I 04 I 05  I 06 I 07 I 09 I 10

GN. Reader insert

taglist:  @ayesha95    ;  @nomnomcupcakesworld ;  @fex-phoenix   ; @depressed-bixch ;   @kitsune-oji

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"Now all that's left is ingredients." I'm pretty happy with what I've got so far. 

"There is one more spot that I want to visit," Diavolo says with a smile. 

"Of course, let's go there first." I wonder what Diavolo wants to buy. 

Before long he leads me to a fancy clothing store. 

"Do you need a suit for the party?" I can only wonder why we are here. 

"No, we are here for you. I know Barbatos bought you plenty of clothes, but I want this one to be special." He smiles at me warmly. 

His warmth spreads to my heart. I smile at him. He is so thoughtful. "That is very gracious of you, but isn't it too much?" I'm touched, but I can't even imagine how pricey everything is in this type of store. 

"Nonsense, I want to indulge you. Please let me do this for you." Diavolo looks at me with his puppy dog eyes.

I can't win. "Alright." So I simply agree. 

Diavolo smiles at me happily.

  We head into the store. It's elegant, I feel very out of place.

The judging look of the high-class store clerk only strengthens my feeling. 

They were just about to force us out when Diavolo flashes his clear bankcard. Might be the same as a black card in our world, at least the reaction of the clerk seems to indicate that. 

Their expression and whole demeanor change in an instance. It's probably the prospect of a significant sale. I can't blame them, to be honest.

  "How can I assist you today?" They are fully in sales mode now. 

"We wish to look for an outfit for an upcoming party. It's a semi-formal event." Diavolo gives a summary of what we want. 

"I'm not quite sure what I'm looking for so can I just look around for a bit?" I'd rather find something that flatters me. 

"Naturally. We have our evening attire right over there. We have plenty of dresses and suits, even matching sets. They aren't just for weddings these days." The clerk points to one of the walls. 

"That's pretty intriguing." Diavolo seems to like the idea. 

"Would you like to see suits or dresses for yourselves?" The clerk seems to ask me more than anything. 

"I wonder if you even have any dresses in my size?" Diavolo asks this so absolutely calmly that I'm sure the demon world is just like this. 

Well, at least this clerk seems to be very taken aback from this question, seemingly unsure if it was a joke. " We have dresses in various sizes. I'm certain we can find one for you." 

"Do you think that would cause a scene?" Diavolo now asks me with his innocent eyes. 

"I'm confident it would be lovely on you, but you would steal all the attention from me. Maybe next time." I don't know how other demons would judge him. I think it would look great, but I will have to ask Barbatos. 

"Oh yeah, you might be right. I would hate that. We need to dress in matching outfits one day. Everyone would love it." Diavolo looks sure about this at least. 

Well, it's good to see that he is so open-minded. I can only weakly nod at him. 

He would definitely outshine me that much is certain.

  "This looks pretty nice." I take one of the expensive-looking outfits and take a more thorough look. " It has an open back." It's too sexy, and it probably wouldn't look good on me anyway. " I want to hang it back.

"It would look great on you for a different occasion." Diavolo smiles kindly at me.

  Then he sees a very beautiful outfit. "Oh, this is perfect." He holds it up. It's truly a lovely piece. 

"It would look great on you." I smile at him. 

"Thank you, but I selected it for you." Diavolo seems to blush a little. 

"For me? I'm not sure if that will look good on me." I look at the beautiful fabric, and it's finely cut. I have never worn anything like this before. 

"You should try it on." Diavolo softly encourages me. 

"Alright. I will try it on." There is no harm in that. 

"Great, you should also try all of these on." Diavolo has his arms full of different outfits. I can only wonder how he got all of them so fast. With this amount, I'm bound to find something that I like. 

"Have you found something for yourself?" It's hard to tell with this massive amount of clothes. 

"No, sadly I will have to wear my formal attire." He sighs with big regrets. 

"I'm sure you will look dashing." I hope to cheer him up with my words. 

Diavolo smiles at me, seemingly fully recovered. "I can only look dashing with you at my site. Shall we head to the changing room then?" 

"Yes, we have plenty for me to try on." The number of clothes will likely keep me busy for hours.

  We head over to a secluded area in the store. Diavolo sits on a big couch in the middle of the area. I head to the curtained chaining room.

  The outfits are all neatly lined up." Please call me when you need help and for the zippers." The clerk cheerfully offers their service. 

"Thank you." I smile and close the curtains behind me. 

I have to strip down to my underwear and start to try on countless outfits.

  Each time I go outside and do a little spin for Diavolo. Each and every time he causes a big show of praising me in the outfit. 

It makes choosing very hard. 

The last outfit I try on is the one that Diavolo chose first for me. Now where I wear it, I must admit that it looks superb. 

Diavolo genuinely has great taste.

  I step out of the changing room. Diavolos face lights instantly up. "This is the outfit you need to wear. I mean you should wear it. " Diavolo is so excited that he has to correct himself. The look on his face is fully selling me. 

It seems like he can't even imagine me wearing anything but this. I smile at Diavolo. "In that case, I will wear it."

"Don't feel pressured into it. Please choose whatever you like the most."  Diavolo seems to regret what he said. 

"Don't be silly. I choose it because I like it best." Even when I like it best because he likes it best. 

"Well in that case we will buy it. What about the other outfits?" He is joyful again. 

"I only need one outfit." I technically don't even need it thanks to Barbatos. 

"Too bad, but we can always come back right?" He is a bit disappointed but recovers all on his own. 

"Of course. We have to buy those matching outfits after all." I cheerfully smile at him.

  He nods very enthusiastically, and we pay for the outfit. 

I'm very cheerful as we leave. With this new outfit, I start to look forward to the party.

  "So now we need to go to the market." I look at Diavolo. 

"Yes, let's head there next but what about a break first? You must be very exhausted by now." Diavolo looks at me with great worry. 

"I am somehow full of energy, but I could use some food." Food sounds very good to me right now. 

"Food does sound good. Where shall we eat?" Diavolo is all on board with my idea. 

"I want to eat in your favorite restaurant." I can't say that I have any idea about demon food.

"Hmm, that might be difficult, but I heard devils’ den has great food so how about that instead?" Diavolo sounds very apologetic. 

"That sounds perfect." I had forgotten that the kind of place Diavolo would go to would have a long waiting list.

  So we head towards the devil's den.

  Before we can enter the place a very familiar and uncharacteristically angry-looking demon stands in our path. 

" Young lord, I can't believe my eyes. Dragging the young master with you into town? Do you even realize what kind of terrific things could have happened to them? To both of you?" Barbatos looks at Diavolo with anger and speaks in a very harsh manner. Now I can see why Mammon is scared of him. He has changed into a true demon, including his now demonized form.

Diavolo looks down like a child that knows it messed up. "I only wanted to make them happy."

"It's my fault I wanted to go so badly. I basically forced him to go with me." I step in to support Diavolo. I can't let him take all the blame. "I wanted to get the presents for the brothers and ingredients for tomorrow." I show him my best puppy eyes. 

Barbatos only shakes his head. "You both were just off having fun. I can't believe how reckless you are my lord. I can't blame the young master since they are young and naive to the demon world, but you know the dangers." Barbatos is very angry. 

"I kept them safe." Diavolo tries to defend himself. 

"You did, but imagine what could have happened to them. Can you even imagine how much I worried about them after I heard from Asmo about your little adventures?" Barbatos looks with cold eyes at Diavolo. 

He has not much to defend himself with. "I'm sorry Barbatos. I just want them to love the devildom as much as I do." Diavolo sounds heartbroken. It's just a simple reason, but it truly warms my heart. 

"Please at least punish us both. I desired to come here in the first place." I plead with Barbatos. 

Barbatos looks at me with a strange look. I'm not quite sure what it is.

  Then he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. This seems to calm him down a bit, at least. "I understand how frustrating all of this must be. Everything changed for you once you came here. I share Lord Diavolos desire to make you feel at home. His desire to make you love our home. I want the same thing for you. However, you must learn that you are now a target for certain people. Whenever I like it or not." Barbatos takes a deep breath. His demonic state changes back to his usual humanlike form. Then he looks at me gently. "You are very important to both of us, and today you could have lost your life. Even when Diavolo brought every bodyguard with him. Even when Diavolo has put protective spells over you. There are countless dangers in this world. Please promise me to never do this again." He only looks at me now. I can tell his words are filled with compassion. 

"I'm sorry I was reckless." I feel very ashamed now. His words have a big impact on me. He has never spoken this way to me before. 

"Barbatos don't make them promise something like this. I take full responsibility for today. Please let them have fun in the future as well." Diavolo doesn't seem to have any regrets. 

Barbatos shakes his head. "You cannot cast me as the villain here. My job is to look out for both of you. I have no intention of ruining anyone's fun. Don't misunderstand me. I fully intend to let the young master have all the fun they want to have, but in a responsible way." Barbatos explains his intentions. It seems reasonable to me. 

"I promise in the future I will tell you about my plans." This promise comes from my heart and seems reasonable enough. 

Barbatos smiles gratefully. "Thank you very much, young master." Then he looks at Diavolo and his face turns stern in an instance. "Your punishment will be to pay for dinner, for both of us today and I want to see all the missing papers before midnight today."

Diavolo sighs deeply. "Alright." He seems utterly defeated. 

The punishment seems very light in my opinion, but it seems to have hit the mark. 

"What have you bought anyway?" Barbatos eyes the bags that Diavolo is carrying. 

"We bought a top for Asmo, a pair of sunglasses for Mammon, a pillow for Belphie, and we found matching bed sets for all of us. Then Diavolo got me a very pretty outfit for the party." I list the items off, emphasizing what we got for him. 

"You went alone with them to buy the outfit for the party?" Barbatos sounds like he is offended. 

"I wanted to spoil them." Diavolo shrugs. 

Barbatos narrows his eyes. "Unbelievable, my lord, I'm deeply hurt." He seems honestly more hit by this than our secret trip. 

"We can go together next time." I try to make Barbatos happy. I had no idea that he likes outfit shopping this much. 

"Thank you, young master, but I will not forget this, my lord." He smiles at me but glares towards Diavolo. Who seemingly doesn't care about this offense.

  Even during our dinner, Barbatos keeps shooting glares towards Diavolo. I'm pretty sure he also took the most expensive items on the menu.

  Barbatos has already gotten us all the ingredients for tomorrow, and I also tell him about the items that I will need as gifts from my home and the human world.

  After today's wild day I fall fast asleep once I hit my bed. 

[marvel-and-mischief]

His Saving Grace Part V

Title: His Saving Grace - Maxwell Lord x F!Reader  Words: 4400 Warnings: verbal abuse, alcohol, drunken behaviour, angst, swearing Synopsis: Maxwell takes you to a business gala, explains what happened on that unusual day, and meets a familiar face. But not everything goes according to plan.

Part I  -  Part II  -  Part III  -  Part IV

A month passes in a flurry of meetings and spontaneous lunches with Maxwell, and  being the odd one out whilst he spent his half a day a week with Alistair (Mrs Lord had decided that she trusted you enough to leave her son under your care). Though, by the third week Alistair had began to warm up to you, asking you questions and thrusting toys into your arms, urging you to join in the fun on the living room floor with him and his father. 

Most of Maxwell’s conversations with you were about Alistair, or how well his new investments were doing. You didn’t elect to bring up what had happened in the restaurant a month ago, where he had you blabbering like an idiot with a silly schoolgirl crush, and he didn’t bring it up. You thought he might’ve, that it was maybe an indication that something was brewing between the two of you, but perhaps you were mistaken.

Though you noticed his hand would linger on the small of your back long after he had ushered you through a door, and he’d taken to kissing you on the cheek, a whispered ‘thank you’ on a Saturday afternoon when Mrs Lord had picked up Alistair and your work there was done. 

But it was always respectful, professional. 

One Monday you arrived at Maxwell’s apartment for lunch. Though you didn’t meet everyday, Maxwell was sure to telephone you most days and the night before he had been eager to have lunch with you to discuss something important. You begged him to tell you over the phone but he insisted he wanted to tell you in person. The excitement in his voice had you grinning and accepting his invitation easily. 

He pulled you over to the island in the middle of the kitchen when you arrived and you saw it was lined with buttered toast and various jams, a cafetière filled with fresh coffee, plain croissants and a bowl of fruit. 

“What are you up to?” You asked, teasing him and roaming you eyes over the delicious food as you took a seat. 

“Must I be up to something to treat my favourite lawyer?” Maxwell looked genuinely affronted at your accusations before the mask slipped and a cheeky smile appeared on his lips. He fetched a bottle of milk from the fridge and a small saucer with sugar cubes on and placed them down next to your mug before taking his seat opposite you.

“Either that or you’re about to fire me,” you winked as you took a bite of your toast. 

“Absolutely not! It would be like shooting myself in the foot.”

It wasn’t the most obvious of compliments but it still had you finding your slice of toast much more interesting than it was, unable to meet Maxwell’s eyes. 

“I’ve been feeling very positive lately. With seeing Alistair every week and my investments working out. I think we should do something.”

“To celebrate?” You asked inquisitively, ignoring the part where he said ‘we’.

“Sort of,” Maxwell left his place at the island and picked up a pamphlet off a side table in the living room, “I saw this when I was out getting groceries. I would like to take you.”

Maxwell handed you the pamphlet. You curiously scanned the fancy writing, the black and gold color scheme, the illustration of a woman in a beautiful gown. It was a gathering of local business owners raising money for charity, or more accurately an excuse to dress up and have a party.

“There will be opportunities to schmooze and swap business cards but most importantly there will be dancing and copious amounts of champagne,” Maxwell seemed delighted at the idea, a hopeful look in his eyes as he watched for your reaction. 

You licked the crumbs off your finger and thumb and started to nod.

“It’ll be fun,” you wanted to match Maxwell’s excitement but you had never been to anything like this, it was a whole other world to the one you were used to. But to Maxwell, this was a taste of his old life again, the glitz and the glamor of throwing money around until it sticks. 

“It will be fun. You get to dress up and show everybody in the business world that you are the one to go to if they need help.”

You couldn’t help smiling bashfully. And yeah, maybe it would be nice to relax for once, let your hair down for a night, even show off a little. You were good at your job and everyone should know it.

But there was one thing nagging in the back of your mind. Maxwell had said he didn’t want this lifestyle anymore, was he really ready to go back into the limelight?

“Maxwell,” you put down the pamphlet in favor of reaching across the island and holding his hand, “are you ready for this?”

His smile dropped a fraction, a wistful look crossing his features as he gave your hand a squeeze. After a moment’s pause he spoke seriously.

“I cannot hide for the rest of my life. I must face the music one day, and what better way to do that than with a celebration?”

“But a gala for businessmen and women? You’re sure to bump into somebody you knew.”

“Perhaps. But these people won’t want to make a fuss. They’re all about appearances.”

“You’re sure?”

Maxwell chuckled, dismissing your apprehension. 

“Everything will be fine.”

You hoped he was right.

-

Four days later you were sat in the back of a car Maxwell had hired for the two of you, bouncing your leg with nerves and staring up at Maxwell’s living room window as you awaited your date for the night to leave his apartment and join you. 

You had brought your dress second hand, not sure if it was appropriate for the event or even if it was meant to match Maxwell’s outfit. You had no idea what was ‘etiquette’ at these galas, having never been to one. 

You’d found a long dark green dress with thin straps over the shoulder and gold embroidered wildflowers in random patterns all over. You’d also come across an old black clutch at the back of your wardrobe from your clubbing days to go with it. You felt beautiful getting dressed up for the first time in years, even better that it was with Maxwell.

Speaking of which, when he came through the doors of the building you audibly gasped at how handsome he looked. His sleek, black three piece suit fit perfectly to his shape, whereas his everyday suits often looked boxy this one didn’t have the over the top shoulder pads and he looked better for it, more approachable in appearance. His shirt was white and had a crimped style and instead of a normal tie he wore a mint green bowtie, a fun addition that put a smile on your face. 

Maxwell slipped into the car next to you, taking you in with a slow sweep of your outfit and an audible release of breath that had you second guessing your choices.

“You’re a sight to behold,” Maxwell admired you one last time before pointing to his bowtie and your dress, “and we almost match.”

You laughed, nerves dissipating as you allowed Maxwell’s compliment to seep in. Maxwell told the driver to drive on, unbuttoned his jacket and relaxed into his seat. He didn’t seem anxious to be going to a gala full of people. You were a little uneasy at the prospect of meeting people he might know, you had no idea how they would react to seeing him again but you were determined to have Maxwell’s back at every corner if you were met with conflict. 

When you rolled up outside the museum you had to wait for arrivals in the car in front of your own to exit before you could. You watched as the flashing lights of the photographers were blinding the people walking passed them, and it took you back to when those cameras were shoved in your face during the worst time of your life. Would these photos be publicised? What would people think about you turning up to a charity event with a disgraced ex-oil tycoon?

Maxwell shuffled to the middle seat to grasp your hand in his, calling your name to take your attention away from what was happening outside.

“Are you alright?” The concern in his voice was genuine and the hand holding yours brought you out of your spiralling thoughts. 

“I’ll be better once we’re passed them,” you pointed to the photographers but kept your eyes on Maxwell. He hummed and leaned over the front seat to whisper in the driver’s ear. Before you could question him, the car was driving away.

“Where are we going?” You asked in confusion.

“We’re going to enter round the back instead. I have some ties to this place so it should be fine,” Maxwell gave you a reassuring smile that had you instinctively leaning against his shoulder. It was comforting having Maxwell so close, you could smell his expensive cologne that reminded you of old books in a library and a little bit woodsy. Oh what you would give to be in his presence all the time. 

-

The Smithsonian was a thing of wonder, even entering through a discreet back door away from the sparkle of the main event. After charming a security guard he seemed to know, Maxwell guided you with a hand in yours through narrow nineteenth century corridors, moving closer to the loud music at the front of the building. You passed dark locked offices and hurried through rooms with posters of animals and glass cabinets filled with artefacts far beyond your understanding. 

“How do you know your way around here?” You asked as you took in your surroundings.

“I’ve been here before,” Maxwell’s reply was short, bordering on stern as he dragged you through the maze of corridors. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“No no,” Maxwell slowed down enough to bring you in step beside him, deliberately loosening his grip on your hand as he realised he had been clinging harshly and pulling you around the museum behind him. It wasn’t until you reached the gems and minerals department that you felt Maxwell stiffen up beside you.

“This is where it all began,” he confessed, pointing around the room in a generalised manner. You understood what he meant, but not knowing exactly what had gone down that day, you were confused as to how it linked in with a natural history museum. 

“What happened?” You ventured, hesitant to push too hard on the subject.

“There was a stone I’d been researching for months and I traced it back to here,” Maxwell glanced over his shoulder to a door that led into an office.

“What sort of stone?”

“A Dreamstone,” Maxwell breathed, his fingers flexing around yours, “it granted wishes,” at your sceptical look he huffed out a laugh, “I know, it’s madness but I swear it’s true.”

He wasn’t playing a practical joke on you, that much you could tell, but how could a stone make your wishes come true? You decided for the most part Maxwell was sound of mind so it must be true, somehow.

“So, you took it? And made a wish?”

“I did. I wished to become the stone, that way I could grant people’s wishes and take a wish in return. I had limitless wishes, and I used every single one of them for my own benefit, to get more rich, more powerful, more evil,” Maxwell whispered the last word as he began to walk away from the department towards another corridor. 

“You were already one of the most famous men in America, why did you need more?”

Maxwell let out a sarcastic laugh that made you jump. Thinking he’d scared you Maxwell tried to pull his hand from yours but you held tight, preventing him from doing so. 

“I told myself it was for Alistair, to give him the world if he asked for it. I’m sure you and all your goodness would say I was misguided but the truth is, I wanted it. I said to myself, why shouldn’t I have everything I’ve ever wanted? Damn the consequences.”

You shook your head, disagreeing with the harshness in Maxwell’s voice and words. He wasn’t a bad man, you knew Maxwell was good at heart. The man he was describing wasn’t the man in front of you today. The man who had you entering the back of a gala because he saw how uncomfortable you were with the cameras at the front. 

“I don’t believe you,” you stated adamantly.

“No, it is all true,” Maxwell argued but you shushed him as the music and the chatter of guests was getting louder. You came to an oak door and you knew the gala was on the other side. Before you opened it you paused and turned to face Maxwell.

“I believe your story but I don’t believe for a second that you wanted to be some king of the world. Otherwise why did you stop before you went too far?”

Maxwell opened his mouth to retort but closed it again, looking like a gaping fish out of water. He couldn’t come up with an answer that suited his self-deprecating view of himself. He saw Alistair in his mind’s eye, the answer to your question, but it would only further prove your point. 

“We should go out there and enjoy ourselves, what do you think?” You asked, reaching forward to straighten up Maxwell’s bowtie. When you finished, you saw Maxwell looking at you with a sappy smile and a look you couldn’t put your finger on. Before you could ask, he offered you his arm and you took it, pushing open the oak door together. 

-

You squinted into the dim, atmospheric lighting of the large room and paused for a moment to get acquainted to the loud music from the speakers on either side of you. The space was massive and could easily accommodate a couple of hundred people. There were cabinets of artefacts along the perimeter, skeletal displays hanging down from the roof, waiters walking around with trays of champagne. It was a world far from your own but you didn’t feel uncomfortable with Maxwell by your side.

You turned to Maxwell who nodded in the direction of the bar off to the side and up some steps. You let him guide you as you surveyed the dance floor, noting the guests were in deep conversations instead of dancing. You realised that this was the time to be talking to other business owners and swapping cards.

You opened your clutch and picked out the dozen or so business cards you’d had made and showed them to Maxwell as soon as you reached the bar.

“Ah, you listened to me!” Maxwell exclaimed with a delighted grin, waving down a bartender, “what do you want?”

“A cocktail?” You weren’t sure what you could order in a museum but Maxwell understood and ordered you something you’d never heard of before.

“You’ll like it, it’s sweet,” he assured you and took one of your business cards to look over.

“Is it okay?” You asked, a tightness in your chest as you awaited his opinion. You didn’t want to look stupid in the face of the rich and powerful. 

“It’s nice, sophisticated and sleek, is that what you’re going for?”

You watched his finger trace the curvy triangle running from the top left corner of the card to the bottom right, a shiny pink against the matte black background. You nodded, certain it was exactly what you were going for. You had been a smart, capable and hard working lawyer and you wanted to bring that to your new role as a Career and Business Adviser. 

“I want to be taken seriously,” you took back the card and shuffled them into a neat pile on the bar top just as your drink was placed in front of you.

“And you will be, you can do this,” Maxwell winked and it sent a warmth throughout your body. 

When you were finished with your drink Maxwell directed you away from the bar and into the crowd. The nerves in every part of your body were on fire as you spoke to your first stranger, an older woman who owned a store in the middle of D.C. She spoke of the rising costs of renting her store and the trouble she was having attracting new customers.

You gave her advice that had her asking for your business card before you could even offer her one. 

Maxwell’s hand was a comforting presence on your back as he urged you towards different people he thought would be potential clients. Some people recognised him with a look of shock, some gave him a wide berth but most people nodded politely or didn’t give him the time of day. You were too busy concentrating on your job for the night to notice, but Maxwell was grateful that everything seemed to going smoothly for you. 

You were about to ask Maxwell if he wanted another drink when you spotted a tall, slender woman with long, wavy brunette hair on a mission to push through the crowd and reach Maxwell by any means necessary. You caught his eye, raising a questioning eyebrow but all he did was let out a long breath and face the woman who had a look of curiosity on her face. Her striking features, sharp jawline and pursed lips, set you on edge. You didn’t know whether she was going to slap Maxwell or have a very strongly worded conversation with him.

“Maxwell Lord,” she said, surprise in her tone and an accent you couldn’t place, but up close you thought she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. When she finally took notice of you she flashed you a friendly smile that made you weak at the knees. Who was this woman?

“Diana,” Maxwell greeted her nervously, urging you to his side and speaking your name to Diana who welcomed you with a genuine smile.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“I could ask you the same. I thought you never attended these events.” So Maxwell was hoping to avoid this Diana, you realised. There was a tension between them that you couldn’t figure out. Were they lovers once? Enemies? It was a weird atmosphere that left you confused and feeling like a third wheel. 

“I’ve been pushing myself out of my comfort zone recently,” Diana said with an air of mystery. You looked between the two of them, a frown etched onto your face. 

Maxwell glanced at you and realised how this must seem and quickly went about to explain the situation.

“Diana helped me to see the error of my ways,” Maxwell spoke slowly, hoping to give you the hint of what he was referring to. You realised he was talking about the day he made his wishes, and this woman was the one who helped prevent him from falling deeper into the dark. 

“Oh,” you gasped, nodding in understanding as Diana smiled shyly at the two of you.

“I simply reminded him of his humanity,” Diana seemed to relax once she caught onto the fact you knew exactly what they were talking about. She eyed you with interest, no doubt wondering how you and Maxwell came to be friends in the couple of months since the incident. You didn’t feel threatened under her gaze, instead it made you stand a little taller. You were proud at how far Maxwell had come since that day, he was almost unrecognisable from the mad oil tycoon everyone saw on their televisions and you hoped Diana could see that. 

You didn’t notice how Maxwell was staring at you, a warmth settling on his chest as he admired your bravery. You could have shied away from this event, refused to attend with him and he wouldn’t have blamed you in the slightest. You were strong in the way Maxwell would never be. You didn’t need help to stand back up on your feet after everything you’ve been through, you were unafraid to walk the world with a target on your back from being seen with him. He thinks you would still stand proud, head held high even if you knew Diana’s true character. 

Diana saw the look Maxwell was giving you and took it as her cue to leave. She didn’t need to keep an eye on this Maxwell Lord, not when you were there to keep him on the straight and narrow path of goodness and truth. Five minutes was all it took for Diana of Themyscira to see you were his saving grace. 

“I will leave you both to it,” Diana nodded to Maxwell and turned to leave but came to a stop just as quickly. You looked to see what she was doing and saw her wide eyes turn on Maxwell.

You weren’t sure what was going on but you knew it wasn’t good when Maxwell grabbed your hand and pulled you into his side roughly. You would have grumbled your objection but you saw the fear on his face as he frantically looked around the room.   

“What is it? What’s wrong Maxwell?” You urged him to answer you, but he didn’t need to because out of the corner of your eye you saw a man tripping towards you from the bar, clothes askew and holding an empty glass.

“You should be behind bars!” He pointed rudely at Maxwell who silently guided you to be completely shielded behind him. 

“Sir, I think you’ve had a few too many-“

“You ruined my life!” The man exclaimed. He was close enough that he would have shoved his meaty finger into Maxwell’s chest but quick as lightning Diana forced her body between the two men and had the stranger’s finger held tight in her fist.

“You don't want to do that,” Diana spoke quietly, but there was a threatening undertone to her words that shocked you. You moved to lean into Maxwell’s ear whilst Diana tried to talk the man down.

“Let’s leave,” you said softly, seeing the sadness in Maxwell’s eyes now you were closer to him. You attempted to smile, to let him know without words that you weren’t disappointed with how the night had gone. You probably would have left soon anyway, the rude man just accelerated things. 

Maxwell held your hand once again, it was becoming an ordinary occurrence between you two, and started to guide you through the crowd.

“Oi!” You heard the drunk man shout behind you but you hoped Maxwell would ignore him. “Your wishes destroyed my life, you bastard!”

Maxwell kept walking and you kept following. The crowds parted for the two of you but they only offered you pitying looks. It made your blood boil. They saw what had happened and instead of being angry at the drunk idiot causing a scene they were sad that you were caught up in it. Caught up with Maxwell. 

You didn’t want pity and you certainly didn’t want their judgements. You would be glad to never see any of them again.

When Maxwell pulled you outside it was dark, stars twinkling in the sky, the air cool and refreshing on your burning skin. Maxwell let go of you and strode over to the car he had rented for the night, knocking on the drivers side window to wake up the driver who startled awake. 

You slowly walked over, observing as Maxwell raked a hand through his hair and refused to look at you until you were standing in front of him.

“I can’t…You need to…” Maxwell sighed heavily and frustratingly kicked a pebble into the middle of the car park.

“I need to what?”

“You need to go. Far away from me, because people like him will always be around the corner.”

“You could say that about me.”

“Yes, but it didn’t happen to you tonight, it happened to me,” Maxwell jabbed his finger into his own chest as he frantically shucked off his jacket and loosened his bowtie until both pieces of fabric were hanging down the front of his shirt. 

You remained calm, understanding Maxwell’s words stemmed from his embarrassment at the situation and not because he actually wanted you to leave. 

“You want me to leave?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Your only friend?”

“I have no friends.”

“You do, you have me.”

Maxwell paused to take in your calm features, reminding himself of what he saw earlier tonight. Your strength, your inability to back down when the going gets tough. He couldn’t push you away if he really tried, he didn’t want to, and you knew that. 

He walked around to the back door of the car and opened it.

“Get in before you catch a cold,” Maxwell ordered half-heartedly and was relieved when you complied, scooting over the seats to leave space for him to join you. 

When the driver began to drive away you shuffled into the middle seat and laid your head on Maxwell’s shoulder, relaxing once he rested his head atop yours. 

Moments later you heard Maxwell sniffle and you carefully looked up to see tears filling his eyes and threatening to spill.

“Oh Maxwell,” you whispered, sitting up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, bringing his head into the crook of your neck.

“I have ruined everything.”

“No, you’re wrong. It will get better,” you ran a hand slowly through Maxwell’s hair as you reassured him, “you were very brave tonight, to go to a gala full of people who knew who you were.”

Maxwell hugged you around the waist, holding you tightly against him, the rise and fall of your chest against his, your fingers on his scalp and the smooth motion of the travelling car calming him down. 

“I’m scared for Alistair,” Maxwell croaked out against your neck.

“What do you mean?” 

“My disgrace will follow him around. He’ll always be the son of Maxwell Lord.”

Your heart broke for your friend, but what could you say? You couldn’t predict the future, you just had to stick around to show him he was wrong. 

Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @galactic-rhi @phoenixhalliwell @thewayofthemandalorian @computeringturtle @shikin83 @lesbianlena 

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 13

Day 13 - Everyone is born with a super power, but when soulmates are together their powers are nullified by each other.

Pairing(s): Romantic Intrulogical, Romantic Moceit, Romantic Prinxiety (background), Familial Anxceit

TWs: swearing, one mention of puking [nothing detailed], innuendo, Remus being Remus

--

Logic reigned at night in Newmind City.

Okay, that may not be entirely correct; the quicker the time sluggishly dragged itself towards 6 am, the faster the brain cell count dwindled. Stupider and stupider decisions were made edging the lines of the illegal and bordering on the disastrous. 

No, the Logic that owned the night came in the form of the superhero; Logic. 

The hero had to admit, it wasn’t the most extravagant name out there, he’d heard many more creative and intimidating names; the Sandman, Sweet Psyche, the Tempest Tongue, all of them household names by now, whether hero or villain. Logic wasn’t exactly a name that struck hearts much outside of NewMind City, but within the alleyways and dive bars, criminals lived in fear of his watchful patrols.

Harnessing the power of Order and Stability made Logic a formidable opponent. The effect on his physical balance allowed him to fight on any surface - even hundreds of feet off of the ground - with almost zero chance of falling. The way he could manipulate any situation into the perfect rube goldberg machine to aid his crusade was terrifying given the right situations. Only one villain dared provoke Logic at every turn; Deceit.

The Lord of the Lies. A Self-Proclaimed Subterfuge Specialist. 

Deceit seemed to live for one thing and one thing only; to destroy the city from the inside out. Logic would have admired the serpentine slanderer if not for his methods. Forcing politicians to spout the truth? Urging government officials to spill their true agendas against their will? Logic admired that kind of drive, but at the same time, this was a man who used lies as weapons. Deceit used them to hurt others whenever he so desired. 

Stalking across the edge of the Talyn Street apartment block, the hero could hear a commotion in the distance; by the sounds of it, at least three men were involved and by the sound of it, things had gotten ugly in a hurry. Logic took off along the edges of the nearest buildings and-

Wait. Something didn’t feel right.

The closer he got to the commotion, the less balanced he felt on his own two feet. Had he somehow exhausted himself? Impossible. He’d faced rather a quiet night until now. His thoughts were distracted long enough that he nearly slid right off of the edge of the building overlooking the alleyway in question. The scene that unfolded set Logic’s blood to a boil. 

Four men, not three. One held back by the largest thug in the group while the other two took turns brutalising the man, though he didn’t let out a single sound. Logic had to be careful; he couldn’t tell if his powers were acting up for sure, but just in case, he used the fire escape to stick to the shadows, to better observe the situation.

Despite the beating he was taking, the man being held back didn’t seem too worried. Logic found out exactly why when the man waited for the next brutal gut punch and used it to flip the larger man holding him onto his attacker. It was impressive to say the least. The final attacker still standing went to pull out a blade, evident by the flash of silver light that caught Logic’s eye, but thankfully, their victim was armed as well. 

The way the man twirled the butterfly knife in his hand so effortlessly was hypnotic, borderline erotic if Logic were to be so bold. Focus. You have a job to do. He leapt down from the fire escape with only a few inches between him and the attacker’s back. Before the assailant could do anything, Logic drove his elbow into the man’s temple, knocking him unconscious. Checking that he hadn't actually killed him, Logic took his pulse with relief before looking up towards the victim, 

“Are you unharmed-”

“That was so sexy.”, the man murmured.

“..... Come again?”

“Gimme a second.”

It took Logic that second and more to realise the innuendo. He annoyedly rolled his eyes and made sure his hair was neatly pushed back once again out of the way of his mask.

“Would you mind informing me of the situation, um..?”

“Remus.”, the man grinned. 

Logic wasn’t sure whether the grin reminded him more of a gassy shark or a seasick crocodile, but either way, he began to wonder if Remus wasn’t entirely innocent in this situation…

“Remus.”, Logan repeated, “Actually, I’ll need to ask you to assist me in escorting these charming gentlemen to the station-”

“That won’t be necessary. You’re too tired to move.”

The silky, venomous voice pierced through Logic before he could react. Dammit, he hadn’t anticipated these thugs would be working for Deceit. His movements were sluggish and just as he watched Remus hit the ground, Logic too felt the rough kiss of gravel before he was out like a light…

--

When Logic awoke, he felt rather like the Fresh Prince of Bel Air; everything was flipped, turned upside down.

Startled, he noted the boiling oil below him - typical of the villain’s over the top style - and the power suppressing cuffs keeping his hands secured behind his back. On the floor just to the left of him, he could make out the goons from earlier sat playing cards while Remus was tied to a chair a couple of feet away. Logic was thankful to see Remus had no new injuries though he was still out cold. The man may be a wretch but the hero really didn’t want to see harm come to him.

“Ah, you’re finally awake, my dear nemesis.”

Deceit’s voice trickled from the speakers in the room, sickly smooth and deadly, like honey laced with poison. Logic knew not to listen to it consciously, he’d made that mistake once before and it’d nearly cost him his life. He instead focused on struggling to get out of the situation he was in, but with his hands cuffed using suppressor cuffs, he was fighting an uphill battle. 

“Now, now, don’t exhaust yourself. I’ve been waiting for this day for a while now, I don’t want you too tired for the grand finale.”

The smugness dripping from every word even passively began to give Logic a headache. His attempts to escape were becoming more and more fruitless; the chain that held his legs in place also stopped him having his skin boiled right off the bone so being too unruly with them was out of the question. All he could do was hope that Remus would wake up and have some kind of ability that might help the both of them. 

Come to think of it, why had his powers suddenly stopped working as he’d approached? Perhaps one of Deceit’s thugs had been in possession of something made to counteract his abilities? No, that didn’t seem likely. Knowing the smug villain, Logic knew there was no way Deceit would let his cronies take charge of something that powerful and impressive. He was wrenched from his thoughts as Deceit’s message continued,

“I hope you’re prepared to-”

He stopped. There was a sound akin to rustling and clattering before Deceit’s voice came once more. From the muffled volume and the conversation, Logic guessed the idiot had forgotten to turn off the microphone.

“Pat, dearest?”

Another voice, probably the aforementioned Pat, spoke sweetly in response, 

“What, honey?“

“Where’s my villainous cape?”, came Deceit’s inquiry. Logic had to bite his tongue to refrain from laughing. Might as well enjoy the show while he thought of an escape plan.

“What???”, came Pat’s reply, a little closer now going by the acoustics.

“Where. Is. My. Villainous. Cape?!”

“Oh, I put it away!”

Logic was thoroughly enjoying the drama going down over the speakers, and so were Deceit’s henchmen who Logic spotted had stopped their rousing game of blackjack to instead get comfy and enjoy the show.

“Where did you put it?!”

“Why do you need to know, Jan!?”

Huh. This wasn’t how Logic figured he’d find out his arch nemesis’ name, but he wasn’t about to complain. What did strike urgency back into him was the progression of their conversation.

“Oh for the love of-! My plan to erase my nemesis is in danger!”

“Our EVENING is in danger!”, there was a soft sigh, “Look, Jan, we’ve had this reservation planned for months now! I’m gonna assume your nemesis is a little tied up at the moment,” , Logan rolled his eyes at such an awful pun, “So why don’t we just go enjoy our anniversary dinner and you can deal with him when you get back, alright?”

Horrifyingly, Deceit huffed a sigh, “I suppose it would be interesting to keep him suspended for a while, let the terror sink in. Good thinking, my love.” The sound of a light kiss and a chuckle could’ve made Logic lose his lunch. Or perhaps it was the idea of being held upside down for so long..

 “Alright, Pat, if we hurry, parking shouldn’t be too awful...”

The intercom went quiet and now Logic could truly let the situation sink in; he’d have to remain suspended over boiling oil, watched by Deceit’s cronies, unable to save himself or-

Remus!

He’d almost forgotten about the odd gentleman. He turned to see him-

Oh, are you kidding me.

Remus was still out cold. How. How in the HELL could one man be asleep for so long?!

Logic didn’t like the idea, but he had little choice. Inhaling, he began to yell, “WAKE UP-” when something hard impacted his cheek. The blow sent his glasses hurtling onto the ground - thankfully missing the boiling oil at least - and breaking apart on impact. Dammit. 

“Keep your mouth shut, Zero!”, one of the thugs chided, earning snickers from the other two and inciting them to join in on the jeering and insult hurling. Logic was just thankful that whatever had been thrown - he suspected a mug by the feel of it - must have been the single dispensable item at hand considering nothing else was thrown other than attempts at insults. The hero had no idea what was worse; the idea of dying from heart failure with the blood rushing to his head, or dying of sheer embarrassment knowing it’d happen while having to listen to these ignoramuses try to genuinely roast him.

Logic could already feel unconsciousness taking hold of him when the first thug began screaming. It took the last of his strength to turn towards the cacophonous cries of terror, but his vision was so blurred without his glasses, all Logic could see before he passed out were a pair of glowing green eyes and a whirlwind of obsidian tendrils.

--

When Logic awoke, the first thing he noticed was the cold breeze settling into his skin through his suit. Opening his eyes, the hero still couldn’t see clearly, but as he squinted, he began to make out stars and clouds. Shit, how long was he out?

“Wakey wakey, princess! You had me thinking you’d gone and died on me there!”, came Remus’ already unmistakable voice. Logic sat up, still reeling as he saw Remus approach him, getting clearer the closer he came until he was knelt down beside the hero.

“Here,”, Remus placed Logan’s broken glasses in his hand, “Sorry I couldn’t fix ‘em, it’s not exactly my expertise.”

Logic had so many questions already; how had they survived?! What had Remus done back at Deceit’s lair before he’d passed out?! Why did he still find it hard to use his powers even now he was free of the cuffs?! The hero frowned as his powers refused to work on his glasses. Remus - seemingly uncaring about Logic’s lack of a response - watched him attempt to work before he caught himself.

“Ah, wait. Lemme back up.”

The hero was confused as Remus backed away a good couple of feet from him on what Logic now recognised as the rooftop of the Crofter’s Hotel. He was about to ask for an explanation when he realised his powers were slowly coming back, reslotting the glass into the frames and straightening out the bridge and legs of the glasses. Order maintained once more, Logic donned the glasses, thankful for his vision stabilising. 

“Thank you, Remus.”, Logic went to stand up, but he still felt lightheaded. Thankfully, Remus saved him from toppling over, catching him at the waist and helping him carefully sit back down.

“Careful, Specs. I don’t want my soulmate hurting himself-”

“Apologies, your what?!“

Logic was stunned to say the least; Remus had just thrown that out there like it was any old fact.

“Soulmate. Y’know, your cosmic companion, your destiny dictated darling, your fatemate!”, Remus listed excitedly, “You know all about it right? When you meet-”

“- your superpower is nullified around that person, yes, I am aware.”

Logic wasn’t sure what to think; he’d never paid much thought to his soulmate, in truth, he preferred to think of his work as his soulmate. Not that he didn’t like the idea of meeting the man the universe decided was his perfect match. Nor did Logic mind that the man was rather handsome in the mysterious cryptid kind of way. Logic gestured for Remus to sit with him and extended his hand to Remus for shaking, 

“Logan Berrie.”, Logan offered, trying to settle back into his civilian mindset.

“Pie.”, Remus responded, low-fiving Logan’s hand.

“Pardon?”

“....We’re not playing a word association game?”

“.... I was providing you with my name, Remus.”

Remus grinned, “Wait, that’s your name?! That’s-”

“Ridiculous, I am well aware.”, Logan scowled, “I did go to school after all-” 

“I was gonna say that’s awesome but whatever!”

Logan did poorly to hide his surprise as Remus laid back like he could fall asleep, “So Logan, how’d you fall in with ol’ Snake Face himself?”

Logan rolled his eyes, still propped up on his hands, “The same way all heroes are presented with their arch nemesis; he and I crossed paths and unfortunately, while we share some values, we have vastly differing opinions on how society’s problems should be fixed.”. He glanced over at Remus, fidgeting idly with the corner of the beat up long coat his soulmate wore. 

“What was your transgression?”

Remus squinted at Logan for a second, “I’m cis.”

“... No. Transgression. What was it you did that made my nemesis target you? I noticed you addressed him by a rather flattering nickname earlier, so I assume you know of him personally.” 

“Oooh.”, Remus grinned, snickering at just the memory of it, “I may or may not have pissed off his little brother.”

Well, that had Logan’s attention immediately. The hero lay on his side next to Remus, propping his head up on his hand, ready for the juicy details. He may have thought himself above gossip, but that didn’t mean Logan didn’t enjoy a good old tea party.

“How so?”

With a grin Logan was sure should’ve split his soulmate’s face in half, Remus proudly elaborated, “Well he and my twin brother were dating, and they had a bunch of friends and family all gathered for some bullshit, and my brother wants me to say something - a terrible decision, really - and I’m there kinda caught for what to say. So I’m having to think on the fly.”

“So, what did you do?”, Logan inquired, clearly getting sucked into the plot unfolding.

“I just said the first thing that popped into my head!”

Logan rolled his eyes once more, but there was a fondness to it this time. “Which was?”

Remus proudly cleared his throat, bringing a hand up to clasp an imaginary microphone, reciting perfectly from memory,

“To the seventeen people in this room that all wished they’d taken my brother’s virginity first, just remember this is the guy who got blackout drunk, cried because he couldn’t afford chicken nuggets, and scared a birthday party of kids when he puked up behind Chuck E Cheese’s back in college!”

The snort of laughter Logan let out was disgustingly ugly. He clapped his free hand over his mouth despite his giggling soulmate’s attempt to swat the hand away. Logan finally gathered himself,

“That’s amazing, oh my goodness.”

Remus excitedly beamed, “Ten tittied Christ, thank you!”

What a visual.

He continued to rant, “I knew it was funny! But nooooo! It was all “that's not an appropriate story, Remus”, or “How could you say that right now?!”! They were the ones who wanted me to ad lib a last minute speech! So what if I said it in front of hundreds of people at their wedding-?!”

Logan couldn’t help it, the bellowing laughter that tore out of him was too much to contain. When was the last time he’d laughed so heartily? Logan wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure when Remus joined in with his laughter, but by the time they were done, Logan had laid down next to his soulmate to stare up at the stars. Then a thought hit him,

“Wait, you said your brother and Deceit’s brother are married, correct? Making you and Deceit brother-in-laws? ”

Remus nodded, “Yep.”

“And you’re not on his side, but are-?”

“Nah,”, Remus predicted with a head shake, “Ditz-ney Prince and TT are both heroes, so there won’t be much of a problem with us being a thing. If that’s what you were worried about.”

Logan nodded, though his frown continued into his query, “Ditz-ney Prince and TT are… interesting hero names...”

Remus rolled his eyes as if it was obvious, “Nah, those are nicknames. My brother’s The Prince over in Sanders Town a couple miles out from here, and you probably know the Tempest Tongue-”

“I’m sorry, your brother is married to THE Tempest Tongue?!”, Logan interrupted, though he shot Remus an apologetic look for his outburst. His soulmate chuckled, “Sounds like someone’s a bit of a fanboy.”

“No, no,”, Logan assured him, frowning despite his obvious embarrassment, “Nothing so childish, I merely admire his work-”

“You think he’s hot-”

“I said no such thing-”

“You didn’t deny it either.”

Remus had him there. Logan punched him in the arm playfully and, as if to prove a point, shuffled closer until he was almost laying on Remus. There was a question on Logan’s mind still, and he finally verbalised it as his gaze fell back onto his soulmate,

“Might I ask, how did we escape? I hate to admit it, but I was passed out for the entirety of your rescue.”

“No shit, who do you think had to carry you?”  Remus teased, “I just used my power, wanna see? It’s super fucked up-!”

“No. I mean, I would like to at some point, but I would rather we stay like this. For a little while.”

It felt like his cheeks were on fire, and the sweet smile Remus shot his way had Logan’s heart racing. 

“Sure thing, Specs!”, he slid his hand along Logan’s arm and softly let it card through his dark hair, “And how about after we’re done here we go mess with Snake Face? ”

Logan grinned back at him; why shouldn’t they have a little fun after all?

“What did you have in mind?...”

-----

This was fun! 

I haven’t written many hero fics before so I hope this is okay!

A big thanks to my friends in the discord for helping with this one when I had a writers block moment.

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account   @cateye-glasses   @fandomsofrandom

[yeeharley]

28

of course! water is not a sandwich, goldie. :) (also i hope you like it lmao)

28: how can you drink that stuff?

word count: 1182

warnings: underage drinking

He knew he shouldn’t have come to this party.

God, it had been a mistake- and the worst thing is, Harley had expected it to be just as bad as it is. Bright lights setting a pounding headache just behind his eyes, loud shouting and laughter that grates on his ears, the smell of alcohol permeating the thick, humid air. 

He makes bad decisions when he comes to these things; it’s a running trend. He’s done the numbers, checked his math, and come to a definite conclusion: Harley Keener is not one for college parties.

But his roommate had been so excited, and he hadn’t wanted to go alone- Miles was young for a freshman, barely eighteen, and Harley was doing his best to keep the younger boy’s college experience from being ruined.

Miles seems fine now, though. He’s got a red solo cup in one hand, dancing with a cute blonde, and he looks very much complacent with his lot in life.

If not a bit drunk.

Harley’s going to watch him to make sure he’s safe. No worries. Miles isn’t getting hurt on his watch.

And that means he has to stay sober.

He leans back against the wall, tucked away into the corner like he’s hiding (technically, he is), and crosses his arms over his chest, ignoring the stack of cups on a nearby table in lieu of fixing his eyes on Miles.

It’s overwhelming, these flashing lights. The entire room is red- he doesn’t know how they managed to do that- and, every few minutes, it changes to blue. There are so many people, so many things happening, that Harley can’t help but be a bit overwhelmed.

His attention is drawn to a figure struggling out of the crowd toward him, and he immediately feels like an idiot for letting Miles convince him to come, because wow. Peter Parker’s smile is more than enough to light up the room without the aid of those infernal lights, and the way his hair is curling out of its product to droop over his eyes is so damn cute that Harley can barely suppress the butterflies in his stomach.

As Peter gets closer, moving deliberately toward Harley’s little corner, his eyes gravitate to the cup in his hand. God, college students need to stop drinking themselves to excess when they don’t have anyone around to look out for them. It’s dangerous.

So now Harley’s watching both Peter and Miles, apparently.

Peter sighs out a loud laugh when he gets close enough, half-collapsing against the wall so that his shoulder bumps up against Harley’s gently. His eyes are gleaming in the half-light, deep brown highlighted with red and gold, and Harley wants to kiss him. 

Plain and simple. He wants to, wants to, wants to.

“Hey, Harls!” Peter chirps, words just a bit slower than usual and no less defined- so he’s not that drunk yet. “What’re you doing all by yourself?”

Harley shrugs, trying to push the stupid smile he can feel coming back down, and gestures down at Peter’s hand.

“What’re you doin’ over here?” He asks as gently as he can manage, wincing as Peter bumps his head against the wall. “With that?”

“Having fun.”

With that, Peter lifts his cup and, not taking his eyes off of Harley’s, takes a long sip of whatever’s in it before lowering it and grinning again. “Tastes good.”

Harley takes the cup without a second thought, slipping it out of Peter’s hand and setting it down on the table. The smaller boy is swaying to the beat of the music, barely aware of what’s going on around him- he doesn’t even notice when Harley guides him over to a nearby couch and sits him down.

“Dunno how you drink that stuff, honey,” he murmurs, crouching down in front of Peter so that he can brush the hair out of his face. “ ‘s not good for you.”

“It’s fine,” Peter grumbles. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, listing slightly to one side before Harley can pull him back upright, and shoots him a frustrated glare. “‘M fine, Harls.”

“That’s debatable.”

“S’not. Debatable. S’not.”

“Oh, my Lord.” Harley rolls his eyes, tilts Peter toward the arm of the couch so he can lean against it, and carefully straightens the collar of his plaid shirt. “You’re so drunk, Parker.”

Peter nods enthusiastically. “An’ you’re so pretty. So, so pretty. Harls.”

For a second, it feels like Harley’s heart stops. He stares up at the brunet, eyes wide, still crouched just in front of his knees. Peter’s lips twitch lazily upward. He reaches a shaking hand out and cards it through Harley’s curls, and- okay, that feels pretty good, actually. 

“You’re drunk,” Harley says again. “You don’t know what you’re sayin’.”

Peter shakes his head. Frowns. “Know exactly wha’ I said.”

“Peter-”

A single finger comes to rest on Harley’s lips, and he clams up right away, because the look in Peter’s eyes is so serious and sober that he doesn’t think he could get a word out if he tried.

“Wanna kiss you,” Peter says, and he leans forward until Harley stops him with a hand on his chest.

“You can’t,” he whispers, trying to smile as reassuringly as he can. “Not when you’re like this, Peter.”

“But I wanna.”

“I know.”

Harley stands, looping an arm around Peter’s shoulder, and tugs him up to some sort of semblance of standing.

“I can’t let you, though.”

“Why?” Peter asks, and he sounds so sad that Harley’s heart practically hurts.

“You’re drunk, honey.”

“And?”

He sighs, leading Peter through the crowd of people and pulling Ned (who seems to be pretty sober) aside to ask him to watch over Miles.

“I’m not.”

Peter stops at the front door, abruptly turns to face Harley with a pair of surprisingly-angry eyes, and- before Harley can stop him- presses a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

A tingling feeling rushes through Harley’s body, full of warmth and happiness and guilt, and he wants to kiss back, but- no. No, he can’t. Not until-

“Kiss me back,” Peter orders, and his voice is full of so much desperation and hurt that Harley nearly gives in.

“When you’re sober, Peter,” he whispers, leading him down the hall to his dorm room. “Okay?”

Peter doesn’t say anything.

He doesn’t say anything as Harley sits him down on his bed and unlaces his shoes.

He doesn’t say anything as Harley runs a washcloth under warm water before gently helping him towel his face off.

He doesn’t say anything as Harley tucks him into bed, pressing his lips to Peter’s temple despite everything telling him not to (he’s a friend, he’s a friend, he’s a friend).

But, just as Harley’s about to leave the room, one foot out the door, a quiet murmur reaches his ears and he turns back to the lump of Peter buried under blankets in the dark.

“When I’m sober?”

Harley smiles, ignoring the flush that creeps up his neck, and nods.

“When you’re sober.”

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

The Rumor Around Hogwarts (Ch.4)

Chapter Four: The Train Ride There

1k+ Words a lot of it is taken from the book but as always I added a lot of [Name] in to make it.... chaotic and slightly angsty

Still uses he/him pronouns for now and later addition of they pronouns will be announced before the chapter. Hope you Enjoy!!!

Last  //  Next

“What the actual hell- Ow, heck i meant heck.” [Name] choked out while rubbing the back of his head

“Mhm sure you did”

“Anyway you mean to tell me I have to run at a wall.”

“Yup”

“In a muggle train station”

“Yes”

“In the middle of the day?”

“Look, do you want to go to Hogwarts or not?”

“I mean I do but-”

“If you don’t you’ll only disappoint Harry” [Mother’s name] interrupted

[Name] hesitated before responding “I’m sure he’ll be fine he like defeated an evil lord as a baby of course he can run at a wall and make other friends”

“[Name] if you miss the train I’m not taking you to school myself”

And just as [Name] seemed like he’d be okay with that aspect (anything to not embarrass himself in public really) all his hopes were completely crushed

“And I’m not taking you back home to ride on the house elf express”

“Okay but if I die or embarass myself I’m gonna have to find a way to jinx you or something. Maybe i’ll tell that weird muggle mailman you find him cute and force you to flee the country”

“You wouldn’t”

“That’s what you think”

[Name] seemed to gather the courage of all his ancestors (may they rest in peace) and ran straight at the obvious death trap. He had a chosen one to meet after all. He closed his eyes right before impact only to have his senses assaulted by the sounds and sights of something completely unexpected

‘Wow' he whispered under his breath

“I told you so”

“Alright alright I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. But I mean you’re not exactly the most trustworthy. If I needed someone to help me cover up a crime maybe, but a prank that could end in bodily harm..”

[Mo. Name] pretended not to hear a word as she fussed over [Name], the train departing soon. She’s a mother, she couldn’t help it. After running down a long list of things [Name] should have (And did) pack in his trunk she gave a forehead kiss and pushed him off to the trains. As he got on she did the unthinkable.

“Bye baby!! Momma loves you. Tell Peeves I said Hi’

Yeah [Name] definitely wasn't gonna be popular now. At least… not in a good way. There’d be rumors around hogwarts. And he’d be in the center of them.

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

Harry sat alone in an empty compartment after all the hustle and bustle that came with parents seeing their children off for the first time. And could’ve sworn he had heard someone say something about being peeved. Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted when the door of the compartment slid open and the youngest red headed boy he had seen earlier came in.

“Anyone sitting there?” he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry. “Everywhere else is full.”

Harry shook his head and the boy sat down. He glanced at Harry and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn’t looked. Harry saw he still had a black mark on his nose.

“Hey, Ron”

The twins were back

“Listen we’re going down the middle of the train- Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there.”

“Right,” mumbled Ron.

“Harry,” said the other twin, “did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later then.”

“Bye” said Harry and Ron. the twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

“Are you really Harry potter?” Ron blurted out

Harry went to nod but the compartment door slammed open once again

“Harry there you are. Thank God I found you.” [Name] gasped out “My mother totally embarrassed me as I was getting on the train screaming about someone named Peeves and she called me BABY. Anyway I’ve been trying to find you without drawing to much attention to you or myself.”

Harry had wondered how [Name] had said so much in one breath. He didn’t know [Name] to be particularly talkative. He of course had his moments when he’d stand up for someone but Harry had always seen name as a little bit of a worrier or an outsider like himself.

“Sorry." [Name] said almost as if he read Harry’s mind “It’s the nerves. I’m super glad that you’re not alone but I’m also jealous I didn’t get to you first.” [Name] continued as he moved to sit next to Harry.

“What were we talking about? Oh yeah he was asking about your chosen one status which is kind of cool and lame at the same time. Is that offensive?”

“Have you really got - you know?” He pointed at Harry's forehead.

Harry pulled back his bangs to show the lightning scar. Ron stared. And surprisingly [Name] did too.

“Y’know as close as we are for two people who only met twice, I realized I haven’t gotten a good look at you Harry.” [Name] realized turning all of his attention on the resident Chosen One

Harry and [Name] stared at each other for a moment. [Name] was curious as to who the boy who lived really was and why he was drawn to him. It was like they were meant to meet up. At the Zoo, in Diagon Alley and now hopefully they would remain on the same path at Hogwarts too.

Harry on the other hand was staring at [Name] in appreciation. They were strangers, yet [Name] came to Harry’s rescue so naturally. Ron was to be a good friend to Harry, he’s sure of it, but it was different with [Name]. Their friendship wasn’t founded on titles, or reputations, or anything but mutual respect and destiny perhaps? If he were more naïve he might’ve attributed this feeling to a crush.

“So that’s where You-Know-Who-? Ron interrupted the staring contest

“Yes” said Harry “but I can’t remember it”

“Nothing?” Ron said eagerly.

“Well- I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else.

[Name] got incredibly bored of the topic, not really keen on discussing Voldemort’s attack on Harry so he began looking out the window like the main character. Only catching flashes of the conversation and adding his own commentary when appropriate. Apparently Ron had 5 brothers and a little bit of “a lot to live up to” but being friends with the chosen one was sure to give him some stories to tell..

[Name] didn’t interrupt with much about his family because he’d already talked about his embarrassing mother and there was nothing else to talk about but his incredibly large and empty house which would have made him a little uncomfortable and slightly awkward. Y’know since he was talking to an orphan and a poor kid with a huge family. How could either of them relate?

What he did however pay attention to was Harry’s bravery and generosity. Apparently he was only a little bit of an oblivious idiot. Sure he proudly said Voldemort’s name (a trend [Name] hoped to follow) but he was smart enough to realized in the wizarding world at least he was rich and could splurge a little bit on the less fortunate *ahem* Ron *ahem*

“Go on, have a pasty” said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to share it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating their way through all Harry’s pasties, cakes, and candies (the sandwiches lay forgotten.)

“What are these?” Harry asked Ron and [Name] holding up a pack of chocolate frogs. “They’re not really frogs, are they/” He was starting to feel that nothing would surprise him

“No” said Ron “But see what the card is. I’m missing Agrippa”

“He has no idea what you’re talking about, look at his face” [Name] laughed out. Ron followed his line of sight and chuckled at Harry’s confused face as well.

“Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know - Chocolate frogs have cards inside them, you know to collect - famous witches and wizards. I’ve got about five hundred, but I haven’t got Agrippa or Ptolemy.”

Both Harry and [Name] removed the cards from the chocolate frogs. Harry got Dumbledore which set his curiosity aflame once again. [Name] kept his a secret for dramatic effect of course. After answering his questions Ron asked for a chocolate frog as well only to get Morgana.

“Well Ron” [name] started “if you show me a trick, I’ll give you this” flipping over the card Ron’s eyes went wide at the sight of a Ptolemy card.

After a long conversation about the dangers of eating Bertie's ever flavored beans (which [name] would never even touch) Ron eventually worked up the courage to perform a spell when the toadless boy from earlier appeared, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one,” she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth.

“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,” said Ron, but the girl wasn’t listening, she was looking at the wan in his hand.

‘Oh god.’ [name] said to himself as the girl’s thoughts assaulted him and drowned out the obvious awkward silence in the car ‘this girl may have redeeming qualities, or at least I’m hoping she does but she needs to get over herself’

“Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then.”

She sat down. Ron looked taken aback

“Er- alright” he cleared his throat

“Sunshine daises, butter mellow, Turn this stupid fat rat yellow”

He waved his wand but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

“Are you sure that’s a real spell? Said the girl. “Well it’s not very good, is it? I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but…

[Name] having heard most of this speech in his head already tried to tune her out and gave a snort at the end of her rambling when Harry and Ron looked at each other incredulously. Only a little offended when he heard Harry's comparison of Hermione to the nervous [Name] earlier

They all introduced themselves but Harry’s introduction led her on another tangent about him not looking himself up as if this was a common thing to do?? Then she asked what houses they thought they’d be in before leaving, taking the toadless boy with her. Poor Neville.

“Whatever house I’m in, I hope she’s not in it”

“I doubt we’ll be in the same house Ron” [Name] realized “you’ll probably be in whatever house your brothers are in”

“Gryffindor” Ron spoke up

“Right, and Harry will probably be with you where as I’ll end up in Slytherin probably”

The car went silent a bit before [name] spoke up again “I know what you’re thinking. Literally. I never had a Ptolemy card. I only said that because I wanted to show off my powers as a legilimens. I can see into your mind basically and I made you see what I wanted you to see. Don’t worry though I won’t like brainwash you or anything. Wouldn’t want to be a typical Slytherin and end up a dark wizard.

[Name] got ready to flee the cart after that whole speech and he could tell Ron felt kind of guilty but [Name] couldn’t risk Harry hating him. He was going to the house that produced Voldemort after all. He rushed out of the cart as some blond entered probably because Hermione had spread the rumor about seeing the chosen one.

Before [Name] knew it he was facing his newest worst enemy. The sorting hat.

[bi-naesala]

A well-earned break

Fandom: Yakuza

Rating: E

Warnings: /

Relationships: Han Joon-gi/Zhao Tianyou, Kim Yeonsu/Zhao Tianyou

Characters: Zhao Tianyou, Han Joon-gi, Kim Yeonsu 

Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quickies, Blow Jobs, Nonbinary Zhao Tianyou 

Summary: 

Zhao takes advantage of a break during an Ijin Three meeting to have some fun with Joon-Gi Han.

(Also on AO3)

It’s during situations like this one that his father’s words echo in Zhao’s head: he has no patience, which is a bad trait for a leader. Well, guess what, pops? He is a bad leader, and no working on his flaws will ever fix that, even if he were willing to try it.

Though, he supposes, if he were more patient, maybe this meeting wouldn’t be so excruciatingly fucking boring. This isn’t even Liumang business per se, but more like something that the Geomijul and the Seiryu clan should’ve been able to solve between them, but politics are politics and Zhao, as much as he doesn’t want to be there, isn’t so foolish not to remain, lest they disrupt the carefully crafted equilibrium between the Ijin Three.

Still, if there was a way to make things less boring, they surely wouldn’t be upset about it…

Taking advantage of a well-earned break, he goes to hang in the lounge with some of their boys, as well as members of the Seiryu clan and the Geomijul, when a stupid idea comes to him. It’s not mortal - because Zhao’s aware that, if he dies here, it would mean war - but it could still be dangerous, which in their humble opinion makes it even more alluring.

He scouts his surroundings, and he’s surprised to see that the person he’s looking for is actually here, which is weird because he’d usually be attached to Seong-hui during times like this, but Seong-hui isn’t here.

Oh well, it’ll be easier for him to approach him at least, which he does immediately.

 “Are my eyes deceiving me, or is that Joon-gi Han? Shrinking from his errand boy duties?”

If Zhao has managed to get a rise out of the other, there is no sign of it on his face. Stoic son of a bitch.

“Zhao-san,” he greets him, in that usual polite tone of his, lightly bowing his head.

“C’mon Han-kun, there’s no need to be so formal,” Zhao states; after all, his dislike for this kind of stuff is well known.

“Nonetheless, hierarchy exists for a reason, and it would be uncouth of me not to respect it,” Joon-gi replies, though he quickly adds, “And to answer your previous question, no, I’m not ‘shrinking’ from my duties. I’m exactly where I need to be.”

Cryptic answers are Han’s specialty, but at least it’s enough for Zhao to understand that, whatever he’s doing, he’s doing it under Seong-Hui’s orders. Interesting.

“Then I suppose I couldn’t steal some of your time?” they ask, exaggerating his innocent demeanor so that he’ll make Han suspicious.

It works: Han narrows his eyes at him, though no matter how hard he’s trying to keep a neutral demeanor, Zhao can see through his bullshit. He knows he’s intrigued. If Zhao has picked on the signs correctly - and they usually do - then his interest for the other is reciprocated - and how could it not be? They’re both quite attractive after all.

“What for?” Han asks, and yet he hasn’t explicitly said no. If Zhao had felt like showing all his cards, he would’ve smirked at that.

They take a step closer. “Don’t you think this meeting’s boring? Personally, I hate that we’re stuck in here at least for another hour,” he says.

Joon-gi Han doesn’t say anything, but he raises an eyebrow at him, a silent invite to continue.

“Well, if you’re so interested, I might share the idea I’ve just had after all…”

  “I-I don’t think we should do this here,” Han suddenly mutters.

What comes out of Zhao’s lips in an amused huff. “Could’ve said it sooner, huh?”

Did he really just wait for them to get inside one of the bathroom stalls and for Zhao to drop to their knees before having second though?

“If you really don’t want to, fine, but man, what a shitty timing…”

If Han is really getting cold feet, Zhao will stop, but this doesn’t mean that he won’t be a bit sad about it - though he’ll never openly show it because that would be admitting that he’s not as above everything as he appears.

Joon-gi Han stays silent for a moment, probably thinking about the repercussions this affair will have. Always the overthinker.

His answer, though, surprises Zhao.

“Very well. Carry on.”

“W-What?” Zhao stutters, taken aback by the sudden change.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” Han asks, only to then smirk. “Unless you are the one who’s having second thoughts…”

This little…

Zhao furrows their eyebrows, and a frown appears on his face before he can stop it and keep his usual laid-back demeanor. As he reaches Han’s pants and fumbles with the belt, there’s only one thing they can think.

“I’ll show you.”

 They do indeed show him, given the way Han is barely able to keep his voice down, even going as far as to cover his mouth in order to muffle those little noises that, despite his best efforts, still come out.

Zhao isn’t perturbed by any of this shit, and keeps sucking his dick like a champ. He keeps it quite simple, only pulling a few tricks when it looks like Han’s getting used to the rhythm he’s dictating just because they want to keep him on his toes; it’s not often that he gets to see the Joon-gi Han like this, with his guard lowered, and he intends to make the most of it.

It’s an intoxicating feeling, Zhao can’t lie. The more Han loses his composure, the more addicted they feel to it.

 When Han’s hand shoots to grab their hair, Zhao knows he has him wrapped all around his finger, and so he begins to slow down, right when Han was beginning to feel close to the orgasm.

He almost smirks at the frustrated huff that he lets out, but no matter what, Zhao will not go faster than this. Well, there is something that could give them an incentive, but Han has to say it first.

“Zhao-san.”

Cute, he’s calling for him now, but unfortunately this isn’t what Zhao’s waiting for.

“Zhao-san… faster.”

Closer, but still not it.

 Taking pity on him, Zhao pulls away, gaze fixed on his face. “What’s the magic word?” they ask, pointing Han to the right direction.

At first Han remains silent, but the need to come soon takes over whatever sense of dignity or shame he must be feeling right now. Zhao almost wants to take a picture of him, to immortalize how red he’s become - and he can’t even look at him in the eyes!

“Faster… please…”

“That wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it?” Zhao teases him, though he’s merciful enough to wrap their lips around Han’s dick again, sucking it way harder than he was doing before.

 Now that he’s actually putting some effort in this blowjob, Han doesn’t last long.

You’d figure that someone so intent in trying to make the least amount of noise possible would keep it that way throughout the whole ordeal, but Han half-shouts that he’s close, surprising even Zhao. He either has a secret exhibitionism kink, or Zhao must’ve driven him so mad that he’s not noticing how loud he’s being. Zhao hopes it’s the second.

Knowing that they can’t make a mess - not that he truly needs an excuse to do this - Zhao doesn’t pull away when Han comes, swallowing everything. Only then they pull away, making a show of licking his lips just to fluster Han further, succeeding of course.

The expression on his face is almost comical as he watches Zhao. Is he going to act scandalized now of all times?

In response, Zhao flashes him a smile, and that seems to get Han out of his trance, as he helps him up. Zhao’s lucky their joints don’t crack, but damn it doesn’t feel good to suddenly stand after staying on his knees for such a long time. Eh, they’re not as young as he once was; being almost thirty, he’s basically decrepit now - mental note: never say something like that near chairman Hoshino, or he might get offended or worse, he’d try to lecture them.

 “Zhao-san… Um…”

Han’s voice is enough to bring Zhao back to the present, saving him the embarrassment of going on a tangent in their head about aging. Right, he’s still in the bathroom with him.

He recovers immediately, diverting Han’s attention by lightly patting on his cheek. “So? Good, huh?”

“I fear saying so will only succeed in further boosting your ego,” Han replies, matter-of-factly as always. “But… it was.”

“Aw, thank you Han-kun~” Zhao replies, purposefully standing way too close to Han than he should, just to elicit another reaction out of him, but he wasn’t expecting Han to grab them by the neck and draw him for a deep kiss. They can’t help but to let out a noise of surprise, which cause Han to smile against his lips, but oh well, it’s not like Zhao can complain about it.

Wouldn’t you know it, not only he has a nice dick, but he’s also a good kisser.

 As much as Zhao would love to spend whatever time they have left here, kissing Han and maybe going back to do something more, he knows that he has a duty to attend to, no matter how much they don’t want to do it, so he has to unfortunately pull away from those sweet, sweet lips.

“Well, as much as I’d love to stay here, we should go back,” they say, then. Han nods, but it’s hard for Zhao to understand how he feels about it; he hopes he’s going to miss this closeness too.

“Yes, Zhao-san. It would be wise to join back with the others.”

 After getting out of the bathroom, Zhao still attempts to make some small talk, because lord forbids he keeps their mouth shut for once.

“You know, you don’t have to call me Zhao-san all formal like that, especially while I suck you off. Makes me feel older than I actually am.”

“Even if I wanted to, I cannot,” Han replies. “I have to respect the chain of command, no matter what.”

“Didn’t see you thinking about that back there,” Zhao teases him, pointing to the bathroom with their head. He almost laughs at the offended expression on Han’s face at his words.

“Well…” the other begins, clearly trying to find a clever comeback. “That was an exception,” is what he comes up with, before beginning to walk away.

If he walks faster, they might be able to keep up with him, running after him like a schoolgirl with her senpai isn’t something Zhao would do, so he stays behind.

“Oh, come on, don’t act like a child!” they shout after him, but Han doesn’t stop his tracks, not that Zhao expected him to do so.

“Well, that was fun anyway! Call me if you want to do it again!” he adds, then, but this time as well he gets no reaction from Han, though they notice that his step falters just for a moment, so he must’ve breached through.

 After this nice diversion, unfortunately they have to head back to the meeting, but now his mind feels lighter at least. He’ll be able to handle another few hours of this bullshit.

And so they settle down at the business table and lets Seong-hui and Hoshino discuss what they need to discuss, all while his mind is pleasantly blank, focused only on remembering the sweet sounds that Joon-gi Han made while their lips were wrapped up around his cock.

Man, that was fun. The only downside is that he won’t be able to brag about it, because if word goes around of what happened, both his and Han’s reputations would suffer from it. Oh well, at least he can be internally proud of himself.

 They wonder if Han will ever be willing to repeat the experience; as for him, he knows for a fact that he’d love to do it again, and maybe even beyond a hushed blowjob inside a toilet stall.

Oh well, he won’t get an answer just wondering about it, but they’re not worried about that, because of course he’ll try to ask Han again - see, having no sense of shame does help in life!

Despite their effort, he can’t contain a small smirk on his lips, though they’re quick to cover it with his mouth, pretending he’s pondering on what is being discussed.

 This is going to be so much fun.

[enkelimagnus]

A Castle in the Forest

Percy x Vex’ahlia, Chapter 11, 2942 words,

A Modern AU, in which Vex is a park ranger taking over the Alabaster Sierras post, and finds much more than she bargained for.

Read on AO3

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

Vex had succeeded in evading Vax’s questions about the bow.

She hadn’t really given him the option to speak at all. After resting for the night, her exhaustion had melted away and left all the space for anger. She’d driven out on her truck, not on the motorcycle, but that was only because the bike wouldn’t go on the snow very well. She’d just wanted to get to one of the temples fast.

They let her walk right into a fucking trap. They hid this from her and she could have died. There is going to be a scar on her shoulder, even with the healing she’s received. She wants to scream at all of them.

What if she’s not the first one to get hit by whatever the fuck the fiend is capable of doing? What if there are bodies literring that castle, bodies of innocent people who walked in on a fiend and died because no one fucking warned them?

Her rage carries her through the whole drive, until she stops in a furious screech of tires not far from the temple and basically runs to it. It carries her as she slams her whole body into the door and it bursts open. She doesn’t care about the bruises she’ll have after this.

She’s lucky, she guesses. They’re all there. Pike, and Grog, both priests and Cassandra. Somehow, the latter’s presence is no surprise. They were acting a little weird about everything, after all.

“What the fuck is up with the thing in the castle and why did none of you bother telling me about it?” Vex roars.

She can feel her hands shaking as she balls them into fists, trying to canalize her anger at least somewhat. She’s a professional, she can’t go and yell the heads off of clergy. Or maybe she can. Maybe she needs to, right now, because they let her walk into an incredibly dangerous situation.

Grog is still holding up his axe. He doesn't look specifically aggressive but she knows he’s ready to defend his friends against her if necessary. She appreciates that, even in this situation.

“You saw him?” Cassandra asks, standing up. “Does he… look alright?”

Vex blinks.

She wasn’t expecting this. Cassandra seems concerned, but more about the thing than about the fact Vex was in close contact with it and could have died.

“He’s a smoking fiend in the shape of a humanoid and I don’t know what kind of shit he packs but it made a hole in my shoulder. A big one!” Vex snaps back. “That doesn’t sound alright to me.”

Cassandra’s face hardens in as neutral of a face as Vex has ever seen. Pike reaches for them, gently putting a hand on their arm, beckoning them to sit back down.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Pike says quietly. “Do you need more healing?”

Vex shakes her head. “No. I have a couple of Healing Spells, and my brother gave me a potion. I’m fine.”

She’s mad that they’re showing concern, when they should have told her this was a threat. Pike and Grog make it all worse. They knew, when they took down the Barbed Devil, that it wasn’t the fiend Vex had sensed. And yet, they let her be fooled, let her believe that she’d done her job correctly.

“Lady Vex’ahlia, I think you should sit down,” Father Reynal says then, with his serene priest façade that Vex wants to smash through right now.

Grog gets up to bring another chair and they all stare at her until she moves and sits down at the table. They all settle back down.

There’s a large file on the table, closed and title-less. Vex raises an eyebrow. Father Reynal takes it and pulls it off of the table, away from her prying eyes and wandering hands. Smart of him. Suspicious too. Vex is on high alert and everything right now is a threat.

“I’m not a lady,” she mutters.

“I know,” Father Reynal nods. “But I’m being polite.”

Vex rolls her eyes. “Cut to the chase. What the fuck is going on here? What is that thing and why didn’t you tell me?”

They all settle back in their seats, all tense, all very unwilling to talk. Vex isn’t budging until she’s given answers though. She’ll camp here and harass them until they crack. She doesn’t give a fuck how long it takes.

“We didn’t tell you,” Keeper Yennen starts. “Because there was no reason for you to know. The fiend cannot walk out of the castle, the trail had been condemned by our work, and the secret tunnel was… well, secret.”

Vex sighs slightly. “Until Keyleth told me about it.”

“Our dear Keyleth is not skilled in the art of deception,” Father Reynal adds then. “We should have expected this would happen. But we couldn’t take you into account when all of this started. Your predecessor, Ranger Regae was not… exactly zealous. He was either oblivious to what was happening or didn’t care enough to stop it. All the contrary to you, my lady.”

“Not a lady,” Vex repeats. “Please stop calling me one.”

They nod as well. “Apologies,” they mutter. “Now. As for your other questions…”

Cassandra bristles. “His name is Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III,” they rattle off without even blinking. “Depending on which succession law you follow, he’s either Lord of Whitestone, or just my brother, in which case I am Lady of Whitestone.”

Vex takes a second to take in all of what she’s just been told. The De Rolos are not all dead. At least two remain. She’s staring at one of them, and the other is the thing in the castle. And they’re all covering it up.

“What happened? Because that’s not a person in there anymore,” Vex points out. Cassandra flinches at that.

Well… The eyes flashing to blue and the humanoid voice could belong to a person. The part that had yelled her to run… that could be a person.

“We don’t know exactly,” Cassandra continues, despite her flinching and obvious uncomfort. “We know that he’s been possessed by a fiend. Which I’m guessing you sensed and came in contact with.”

“Do you know how he came in contact with the fiend? What kind of fiend it is?” Vex crosses her arms.

“He.. came back to Whitestone with the fiend already with him. I haven’t been able to get more details from him.”

Every time Cassandra or anyone else says something, it just adds more questions to Vex’s plate. Where was he before coming back? Why had he left in the first place?

“As for the kind,” Father Reynal interjects. “I haven’t gotten to see it up close since he became possessed by it the way he is now, but from Keyleth’s description, it seems like a demonic creature. Perhaps a shadow demon of some kind.”

Shadow demons are more difficult to take down than barbed devils, but they’re not… impossible. Between Keyleth, Pike, Grog and the others, they should have been able to take it down a long time ago… Though it isn’t just a fiend. It’s also Cassandra’s brother. That changes things, she guesses, for all of them. There’s a person trapped in there, the one that made it so Vex could get away.

That’s the thing with possession. There’s always someone else than the creature involved in it.

Vex sighs heavily, putting her hands over her face. “You haven’t told any sort of authority, I’m guessing?” She asks.

“They’ll just… kill him to take out the creature,” Pike points out. “None of us want that to happen. We want him safe. As safe as possible.”

“Or they’ll fuck up the barrier we put up and he’ll be free to roam and probably kill more,” Keeper Yennen adds. “That’s another one of our concerns, and one of the reasons we didn’t tell you. We’re aware rangers have some spellcasting abilities and we did not want to risk you messing with the barrier.”

Vex huffs. “Well, I can’t promise I didn’t do anything but I don’t think my encounter with it fucked up your spell.”

They all fall quiet then. As she looks around the table at these people, these people of faith, of knowledge, of ability, it suddenly dawns on her the mess she’s gotten into. There’s a nobleman possessed by a fiend, with a weapon from the nine hells that shoots holes into people. They’ve been dealing with it for who knows how long, and they’re not getting anywhere. They seem at a standstill.

It’s all terrible. She should run away now. Grab Vax, pack her bags, and never come back to Whitestone again.

She’s not going to succeed at her job here, not when the fiend in the castle is much stronger than she is, not when there are people who won’t let her deal with it quickly and efficiently because it would mean murdering someone. Not that she would murder someone to do her job, but… it’s just another thing to think about.

She should give up and leave.

But where can she go? She can’t go back to Syngorn. Syldor’s made it incredibly clear in the letter she read yesterday. It was only yesterday but it feels like weeks. The emotional distress and the encounter with the fiend, or Percival de Rolo… It all seems so far away.

So she has to stay, and she has to deal with this somewhat. Because there’s no way she can go back to her life when she knows about the thing in the castle. No way. She’s too… stubborn.

“I have many questions,” Vex starts after a moment. “And I want you to answer them to the best of your abilities. If you want me to help in this matter, you’re going to have to be straightforward with me. Honest. If I catch you in a lie, you’re fucked.”

She doesn’t really think she’ll tell any authority about this, but she is going to use every bit of power she has to get her way and get the answers she’s desperate to have.

“Fine,” Cassandra nods. “I think that works with us.”

Vex doesn’t reply that they don’t have a choice anyway. She’s not that big of a dick.

“My very first question,” she moves forward. “How did you know my last name?” She stares at Father Reynal, with his chestnut eyes.

He sighs heavily and takes out the folder that had been on the table when she came in. He slides it over the table towards her and she takes it, and opens it.

Everything. They have everything. They have her grades and report cards from the schools she attended in Syngorn, from the noble general educations to the specialized ones, to the ones from her training with the TWC. Things on Vax as well. And then the Shademurk. Reports on the fire, a copy of the report she wrote for the TWC about what happened. Pictures of her and Saundor at the official parties he dragged her to, both because she was the ranger attached to the Shademurk, but also because she was his trophy, and he wanted to show her off.

She remembers the specific day this photo was taken on. She remembers the pretty green silk dress with the completely open back, almost the exact color of his skin. He’d insisted she made her hair in a way that uncovered her ears. He’d made a braid of vines that wrapped around her neck in a necklace. He’d called her perfect. She’d been the only non-fey in attendance, and all eyes had been on her, and on him, because he’d brought her.

She’s smiling in the photo in front of her. It was taken when she was already tipsy on sweet and heady fey wines. That was why she was smiling so much. The evening hadn’t been pleasant. Some sort of anniversary of something where she’d obviously been there for people to stare at, for Saundor to have. He had not let her move out of his side all evening, arm wrapped around her waist, hard as stone, unmovable. Possessive. She’d already known better than to try and break his hold on her, it had been months after she’d realized he was much, much stronger than her. When he decided to hold her, there was no getting out.

She slams the folder shut when it gets to more details about the fire.

Her hands are shaking when she looks up at the priest in front of her.

“Why?” She asks. Her voice is weak. It’s shaking, it’s ugly.

“We had to know who you were, who had replaced Regae. If you’d be a threat for us and Percival,” Father Reynal explains. “I’m sorry.”

He’s not. It’s obvious he’s not. Vex gets it, but it doesn’t qualm her anger and betrayal. She grabs the file in her hands. “I’m keeping this.”

None of them deny her that. Good. She would have exploded if they did.

Her mind is swimming. The pictures of those nights in the Feywild, the reports on the fire and her escape, the fiend, the trapped noble, her father’s hatred of her, these people… all of it was too much. She needs a fucking break. But they won’t let her have one.

“I need to go for a moment,” she says. This time her voice is steadier, and she’s so incredibly glad.

“You have some decisions to make,” Keeper Yennen nods.

Vex stands up. She’s not as shaky as she expected she would be. “I’ll be telling my brother all of this. You’ve involved him.” She points at the file. “Non negotiable.”

Cassandra looks a little uncomfortable at that but says nothing. Good. She’s getting Vex to help in saving her brother, Vex is involving hers.

This is too much to deal with alone, anyway. She needs Vax by her side with this. Despite everything, she needs his presence, she needs him. They’re both unsteady and neither of them are the rocks the other needs, really. But they’ve got each other and that’s at least something. It would be horrible if they couldn’t have each other.

She walks out of the temple with barely a word. She can’t do the goodbyes and everything else right now. She can’t pretend her mind isn’t full of questions and fears and anger. She needs to take time with all of this.

It’s hard. A part of her feels for Cassandra, and even the rest of them. She can understand why they did what they did, why they hid it from her, from the world. But she’s still so deeply angry about all of it.

And the file just made it so fucking worse. It’s all there, all the things she wishes to forget, all the things she prayed there were no traces of. She hoped the fire of Shademurk destroyed all evidence of her presence there, of the months spent in Saundor’s thrall.

Just like the memories and the scars she bears, just like the bow under her bed, it’s not going to go away this quickly. She should have expected pictures to be taken of the parties, she should have expected the reports to exist somewhere in the system.

What kind of research power did they even have, to acquire such information from her schools in Syngorn and the TWC?

Fuck. She gets into her truck and punches the leather outside of the wheel, cursing out loud. She puts the file down on the passenger seat and exhales. She needs to calm down. Her hands are shaking and she needs to be calmer to drive home, or she’ll drive herself into a fucking tree.

She would have thought being researched would be the worst part. But the worst part is the memories of Saundor the research brings. She’s fought so hard to put this behind her, she’s spent months bothered by horrible nightmares, every time she fell asleep. She’s better now, but this is a lot to deal with.

She really thought she was going to be safe from him now that she was hundreds of miles from the nearest portal to the Feywild. But the memories will not leave her and the scars are still obviously on her skin.

She can’t be safe. Not when she has her memories intact and his bow under her bed. It hasn’t been long enough. Maybe she’ll be done with him in a few years, or a few decades. Hopefully it will fade away faster than what her father did.

Falling from Syldor to Saundor was to be expected, now that she thinks about it. She was desperate for approval from some sort of authority figure and Saundor was that. And he had her wrapped around his little finger within days of meeting him.

Gods, she loved him. At least somewhere in the middle. Not at first, no. It had been all for comfort and pleasure. And then… at the end, it had been fear and hopelessness. But she had loved him in the middle. She’d worshipped him.

The great powerful Lord Saundor the Forsaken.

Her forehead hits the leather covering the wheel and she sighs heavily. She’s so tired. Her fingers find the key and turn it, sending the engine roaring on. The radio turns on with it as contact is made. It’s still on that pop channel since they went for a groceries run whe Vax arrived.

It feels like it happened weeks ago. The onboard calendar says it’s the 28th of Cuersaar. Vax has been in Whitestone for three days.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid 192

192

    Holding Keith’s hand in public felt nice. Walking from the hotel to the restaurant, Lance found himself watching families of all types as they walked. He couldn’t help it. A smile coming to his lips as he watched kids nag their parents, or listened to them as they played. His hand sitting on his stomach while his mind substituted the kids for their twins, and the parents as Keith. Keith would be such a good dad. He absolutely knew that for certain. He’d worried when Keith had spent most of the night sleepless, the walk seeming to invigorate him as it wore away Keith’s energy. Keith needed his coffee pronto, lest a server cop his boyfriend’s uncaffeinated anger loaf rage.

  Leading Keith into the restaurant, it had a kind of rustic charm. Heavy oak logs made the walls, with all kinds of memorabilia stuck to the walls, including a giant stuffed fish with a plaque that red “Billy Bass”. It appealed to his tacky side in all the right ways. Sending Keith to find a seat, his boyfriend slouched off to throw himself into the only available booth. Lance giving a shake of his head affectionately. He really loved that cranky werewolf. Waddling over to the counter, he forced himself to remember to look and act like a girl. Keith didn’t know he was terrified of the same kind of comments made at the petting zoo being repeated. This trip had to go as well and as smoothly as it could. Picking up the menu, he knew instantly he wanted more than pancakes. Everything smelt vaguely appealing, and Keith would eat like there was no tomorrow.

  “What can I do you for, darling?”

Jumping at being unexpectedly talked to, the woman behind the counter cackled at him

“Sorry, love! I didn’t think you’d be lost in thought over a menu”

Lance flashed a smile, careful of his teeth. He kind of wished he’d worn a set of glasses. The more he stood in the restaurant, the more he heard and the bigger the world suddenly seemed to be

“Sorry, everything sounds so good I’m not sure where to begin”

The woman chuckled

“I remember those feelings. How many you got in there?”

“Two. I guess I do look pretty big”

“And carrying low, you’ll be in labour no time, love. Now. What do think?”

No. Nope. No labour for him. Not unless he was comfortably set up at VOLTRON... he’d hold his legs together for as long as possible if their twins dared to think of coming this soon

“I think I’m famished. Can I please order two sets of pancakes and two sets of the bacon breakfasts? Ooooh, and I’ll grab a fruit salad, two of the largest coffees you have, aaaand... I think I’ll have a green tea latte... and a fruit salad. Yeah, that’s all, thank you... oh! Do you guys have soy milk? I don’t want to gas my boyfriend”

  The woman behind the counter ogled him fo a moment, shaking her head and laughing again

“I don’t know where you’re going to fit all that... We have soy, almond, and regular. None of that skin stuff”

Lance blushed. He couldn’t help that he didn’t exactly know what he felt like, but food seemed like an amazing idea

“It’s for me and my partner. Soy will be fine, thanks”

The woman slapped his arm gently with the back of her hand

“I know that, love. Just an old woman teasing”

“You don’t look that old”

She looked about the age he should look... her name tag reading “Dae”, the white tag almost lost in the red of her bright red shirt

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. Now, darling, cash or card?”

“Card please”

  The woman rang up there largish breakfast bill. Lance paying as he was trapped into small talk

“So, love. Are you here for our Easter markets? Or you one of those passing through?”

“Oh, my boyfriend and I are spending a few days here. We’re meeting up with some friends”

The woman printed him a receipt without him asking

“I’m sure you’ll find this quite boring compared with the cities around here, but we have own charm. Now, can I get a name for this order?”

He’d been prepared for that. He’d made kind of a mental story for himself. He and his photographer boyfriend were driving up, stopping in small towns as Keith built up a portfolio in the hopes of turning to selling prints online

“Lancella... my, uh, parents were hoping for a boy”

“I’m sure they love you at any rate. We can’t help our names. You go take a load off and I’ll bring your coffee over. Take my advice, love, take a look at the markets while you’re here. They really are something else”

“Awesome. We might just take your advice. Thank you”

    Siding, barely, into the booth opposite Keith, Keith was glaring at the menu in his hands. Tugging it free, his boyfriend huffed as Lance set the menu back into its holder

“Your coffee’s coming”

“Good”

Keith should have perked up at the thought of coffee. The scent was strong enough that Lance’s stomach was threatening to turn traitor right there at the booth

“Babe?”

“It’s nothing. You looked like you were having a good conversation, Lancella”

Lance rolled his eyes at the name

“I’m a simple man. The best lies have a kernel of truth in them”

“It pisses me off that you have to lie. You’re you. If people don’t like that, they can go play in traffic”

  There was his grumpy little anger loaf. He’d also realised something that was likely to make Keith grumpier

“You can’t just put them in traffic. You know, we’re going to be in trouble”

Keith sighed deeply

“What for now?”

“I’m starving... and all that food has to come back up. Plus, apparently I’m going to pop soon”

Scowling at him, Keith sat back and crossed his arms. His voice firm and joke free

“There’s no way you’re allowed to even think about giving birth in this crappy town. Don’t even think about going into labour”

Sometimes it was scary how in tune they were. He didn’t want to give birth here, yet he couldn’t hate this town

“I don’t know. This town isn’t that crappy. This is the town you were born in and you’re not crappy. Maybe crabby... but not crappy”

“You’re fucking hilarious”

Lance shot his boyfriend double finger guns

“I try. But seriously, I’m starving...”

  He’d also forgotten to do his shots before leaving the hotel room. Keith coming out with the bath mat around his waist had driven away the thought. His boyfriend hadn’t questioned why he’d packed heavier than usual. There was a whole suitcase of towels and bedding, waiting to be unpacked. His new plan was that after breakfast they’d unpack a little more, and he’d look up the directions to the cemetery where Keith’s dad was buried. The vampire knew his own pain from having now lost both his parents, yet that was nothing compared to Keith losing his dad at such a young age. Making the comparison seemed really shitty and like it lorded the fact Lance had had his parents for so long, that’s why he’d never say it out loud.

  Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the coffee and the latte. Keith sliding both mugs towards him as Lance thanked “Dae”. Wrapping his hands around his cold drink, there was kind of a happy peacefulness as Keith took his first sip of coffee. This was nice. Them having no real schedule. Not rushing around. Kind of on a date, but not at the same time...

“Stop staring”

Chuckling, Lance moved his hand up to take the straw between his fingers, stirring his latte as continued to stare

“What are you going to do if I don’t?”

Kicking him under the table, that was Keith’s great comeback

“Really, babe?”

“Fuck you. Fight me”

  It’d be soon long since he’d heard that one. The second they found out he was carrying, he had to behave himself and training went out the window

“I could beat you, but we both know you’d liked it”

Delivering the words slowly and purposely, Lance succeeded in making Keith choke on his coffee. Placing the mug down, his boyfriend coughed into his hand

“Fuuuuck...”

“Still want to fight me?”

“Keep this up and I’ll beat your arse so hard you won’t be able to walk for a month”

“Do you promise?”

On the back of choking on his coffee, Keith choked on air. His hand fanning his face as he shook his head

“You deserve to be punched in the dick for that”

“Nah. You love me too much for that”

“God. I fucked that one up”

  Lance knew Keith was teasing, yet he felt himself automatically tear up. Apparently he could dish it, but his ego was too much of a diva to take it. Dropping his gaze to his drink, he felt awful for how he’d reacted

“Babe?”

“It’s nothing”

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I guess my hormones are being silly. It’s ridiculous”

Keith wisely decided not to agree with him, changing the topic

“What did you order?”

Raising his head again, Lance shot him that fake smile that hadn’t come out in so long that he wasn’t sure he was doing it right

“Pancakes. Eggs, tomatoes, bacon, sausages, and fried onion. Coffee for you. Tea for me, and fruit salad”

“You think that’s enough?”

Now he was feeling self conscious over how much he wanted to scarf down his food

“I figured you’d eat what I didn’t...”

Keith playfully kicked him under the table again

“Great. Now I’m the garbage disposal unit”

  Shit. Why had his mood plummeted so much? Now it had, his ego was getting riled up. He was starting to feel vulnerable over being pregnant and into a strange place, where people he didn’t know could easily target him, or Keith. He couldn’t scent anyone like them in the place, yet he’d been so care free when they’d come in, he hadn’t thought to. The sudden shift to extreme vulnerability by his ego threw him off. They were a goddamn vampire. Had he been so inclined, he could easily take every single human on in the restaurant... Why was he suddenly so spineless? And why was his ego not propping his mood up with its usual douche attitude.

  “Babe, you’ve gone pale. And you’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

He was shaking? He hadn’t noticed...

“Sorry. My ego... just went funny...”

Keith stared at him in confusion

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know...”

He didn’t know. Was it not sure keith could protect them? No. Keith could and would go beyond them. Then why did it want him to run? All he wanted was a nice breakfast with Keith, so Keith wouldn’t be so stressed about what was to come...

  Leaning across the table, Keith’s confusion grew. Cocking his head, he drew back slowly

“You feel like... you’re pushing everything away. If there’s something wrong...”

“I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m sorry”

Trying to let his ego flare a little, the instinct to run grew with it. Lance quick to force it back down. Maybe he’d been too focused on being home of late? No one had made any kind of threat towards him

“If you’re not feeling well, we can go back to the room”

“That’s not it. All of a sudden I got a spike of fear and I’m not sure why”

  Keith pursed his lips, shook his head, then suddenly decided to move to sit next to Lance, a little too fast for Lance’s liking. Taking his hand in his, his boyfriend squeezed softly

“You don’t need to be scared”

Having Keith close should have calmed him, yet the spike of fear had spiked his anxiety over not knowing why he was kind of internally freaking out  

“I know. All I wanted was a nice breakfast”

“We can still have a nice breakfast...”

“I’m so sorry. I know you’re stressing badly. This has to be so much all at once”

The restaurant was loud, despite it being breakfast time. Too many people seemed way too awake

“The glasses help. Do you want them?”

  Yes. And ear plugs. Someone dropped something in the kitchen, Lance flinching at the sound as he shook his head

“No. No... it’s okay. I’ve been doing this longer than you have”

“Are you sure?”

“Babe, I’ll be okay. It’s just weird... I don’t smell anything... bad. Maybe I’ve spent too much time hermitting”

“Or maybe people just suck?”

“Careful, babe. Your grump’s showing”

Keith huffed with a pout

“I’m not being grumpy”

“Fine, your lack of people love is showing. I hope breakfast doesn’t take too long”

“You need to eat more. You’re all skin and bones”

Lance’s ego chose to take the wrong way. He ate. Keith knew he ate. He couldn’t bring Keith’s mood down any further

“I’m going to. Your babies are demanding it”

  Bring their hands to Lance’s stomach, Keith rested them there

“Already causing so much trouble. You two better give your dad a break”

“That’d be nice. I think the first thing they’re getting when they’re old enough is a trampoline”

“Why do I feel like you’re the one who’s going to be spending more time on it than them?”

“Because it’s nice to lay out under the stars?”

They hadn’t done that in so long... Maybe they’d get a chance while they were here?

“I wonder what sex would be like?”

And there Keith went stating the real reason he supported getting their kids a trampoline

“I’m not conceiving any future siblings on a trampoline”

Keith bumped his shoulder lightly

“There goes that idea...”

“I’m going to put you in a time out if you don’t get your mind out of the gutter”

“But without the gutter, my mind would be homeless”

  Without missing a beat, the werewolf had him groaning

“Who taught you that one? They need to be shot”

Keith grinned, Lance kind of envious that no matter how upset Keith was internally, he was keeping his ego well under control. He should be proud. No. He was proud. He just wished his would perk back up

“Pretty sure I learned that from you”

Great. He couldn’t exactly shoot himself... though he’d definitely shot himself in the foot in the metaphoric sense

“You don’t want to listen to me. I’m going crazy in my old age”

“You’re not even that old”

“Older than you”

  Keith put on that bad southern drawl that never failed to work on him

“And twice as pretty. A pretty little thing like you should be careful. A big bad wolf might just gobble you up”

“Nah, my boyfriend takes care of all the scary things out there”

“I could take him. They don’t call me the Mullet for nothin’”

Oh lord. That was terrible. That was terrible and Keith knew it was terrible

“Is it because you’re kinda fishy? A bit limp all dead eyed?”

“Why, miss. I’ve been told I’ve got the perdiest eyes around”

Lance let out a long groan of defeat. He didn’t feel safe, and as much as he didn’t want to feel amused, Keith’s stupidity was kind of turning his frown upside down

“Alright. No more. I get it”

“Do you feel any better?”

No...

“Yeah. I’m still staving, though”

“It won’t be too much longer... hopefully”

   *

Keith kept a careful eye on Lance once their breakfast finally arrived. Lance noticing, and responding by eating despite the lack of interest in the pancakes he’d wanted. It was hard to pretend to be happy. Everything felt too much for him, and having it all feel too much for Lance threw him.

  Holding it together, the walk back to the hotel was brisk. Lance tried to shake him off to go to the bathroom alone, but Keith wasn’t having it. As Lance “threw” himself down to vomit, he slipped behind him, tugging off the annoying wig so he could rest his chin on Lance’s shoulder. His boyfriend was shaking, his skin felt a little colder than its above barely warm natural state. Having played breakfast over in his mind, he still didn’t know why Lance had spooked, or why his ego had drawn in. The only thing he could think of was that that woman’s words brought up Lance’s fear of giving birth soon. No one had said anything to his precious mate. No one had barely looked their way. No. Everyone else was too busy fucking chewing like a herd of cows. The noise infuriating now he’d noticed.

  Staying with Lance until his stomach settled, his boyfriend wobbled on his feet as he stood. Keith had spent the time giving Lance belly rubs and trying smother him in his scent to calm him down. His own ego was rattled by their mates strange actions, making it almost mad at a situation where no one was to blame. Rinsing his mouth out, Lance stared at him in the mirror. He looked exhausted

“I’m sorry”

No. Lance had nothing to be sorry for

“Babe. Hey, it happens”

“I’m supposed to be the one in control here... and I freaked out for no real reason”

“It’s okay”

  Lance didn’t know he was semi echoing Keith’s earlier movement as he kicked the basin cabinet lightly

“No. No it’s not. You’re stressed. You’re in a new environment. You’re being forced to go out with me when I look like this. And I couldn’t even keep my shit together long enough to enjoy being out to breakfast with you. It’s fucking pathetic. I should be past all this shit”

“You’re overthinking things again”

Sighing deeply, Lance went to grab his toothbrush out the toilet bag, only to knock the contents out. Sensing the impending tears, he turned his boyfriend towards him, gathering him against him

“Babe. Hey. It’s okay. I’m not mad and you haven’t done anything wrong”

Lance shook his head again

“I’m sorry... God. I feel so fucking incompetent”

  Lance wasn’t incompetent. Keith ego saddened to hear their mate talk about himself like that. He wanted to make Lance smile again

“You’re not. Didn’t Dae say something about a fair?”

Again, Lance shook his head

“Sorry... I think I want to lay down for a bit... and I really need to pee. Can... can you get the blankets out the suitcase? They’re in the black one”

“And you’ll be okay?”

“I’m going to pee, then I’ll be out”

Kissing Lance’s hair, Keith found himself more anxious over Lance than the thought of seeing his father’s grave. Maybe Lance was more tired from the day before than he was letting on

“Alright. I’ll be waiting”

   When Lance came shuffling out the bathroom, he made straight for Keith. Keith having covered the top of the hotel bed with their three blankets, the bottom one acting as the sheet between them and the crappy bedding below. Lifting the corner back, his boyfriend climbed in beside him. Shoes and all. Lance had to be dead tired to not fight him over his shoes, which had kind of become part of Keith’s daily job. Laying himself against him, Lance rested his head on Keith’s chest, arm snaking around him. Somehow the feeling that came to mind was akin to missing that bottom step and terror flooring you for a moment as your stomach dropped. When Lance started crying, Keith could only let him cry it out. He’d gotten used to Lance having more emotions than he thought possible for a vampire. Lance’s motto seemed to be “sometimes you just need to cry it out”. Still. It sucked. They were so far from their friends. So far from home... and the hard bit was yet to come.

    *

Falling asleep Keith, Lance carefully pried himself off his boyfriend. He felt safer for being in the hotel room, and disoriented from how hard he’d seemed to nap. Creeping to the bathroom, then back into their room, Lance mentally sighed to himself over his emotions. He was being so dumb. Keith needed him... None of this... he couldn’t break down now. Taking his phone off the bedside table, the vampire crept back into the bathroom. He’d already talked to Keith, explaining that he didn’t get what was going on at all... Yet he wasn’t sure that Keith believed him. His people hating boyfriend had offered to take him to the markets on for Easter. That wasn’t Keith’s thing. That was Keith grasping at straws and trying to find a way to make him happy again.

  The call took a long time to answer, Krolia’s voice happy as Lance wondered if he was annoying her

“Hey, Lance! How are you?! Did you and Keith arrive safely, I swear that boy never thinks to let me know he’s okay”

They’d sent a message to group chat, and that was about it. With some small unpacking, they’d both been too tired for phone calls and any form of in-depth conversation

“Sorry, Krolia. Yeah, we got here okay. If this is a bad time, I can call back”

“No. Not at all. Is everything okay? I mean, I’m thrilled you called, but I’m confused as to why”

  That stung a little. He hadn’t spoken to Krolia all that much since Keith turned...

“I won’t keep you long. I have a question, and I think you’re about the only one who understands what it’s like to be pregnant”

He would have turned straight to Mami if she’d been alive. He felt like he really needed that maternal support right now. Hearing her voice would have driven home she was safe and she would have teased him for being hopeless

“Shoot away! Are my two grandbabies giving you grief already? I can have a stern talking to them, if they are”

   He wanted to reach through the phone and hug Krolia. Keith was absolutely amazing with him, yet he couldn’t fall pregnant. A small snort escaped without him meaning for it to

“They’re fine. Using my bladder as a trampoline and wriggling around in there. I... uh... I was wondering if when you were pregnant with Keith, if you ever felt... scared for no reason”

There was a pause. Lance grateful Krolia was taking the time to think about it

“Sometimes, yes. Especially in the line of work I do... Did something happen?”

So Krolia has only experienced fear when thinking of vampires and werewolves...

“We we’re having breakfast and all of a sudden I got scared. There was nothing there to be scared of. No one else who wasn’t human... but... I feel like I was too care free lately. I didn’t guard my scent. I didn’t think about what would happen had someone caught it. I didn’t think about bringing Keith here and what if there was someone like us here... I didn’t think about it... and I feel... like me not thinking about it is the same as me thinking Keith... is... something less than he was”

  Starting to cry, he felt really very stupid for his tears. He treasured Keith. But he’d been running around trailing his scent after him without a thought of the impact. All he’d wanted was to get things done and settle his ego

“Lance, you love that idiot son of mine. I’m sure at the first hint of danger you would have reacted. Is Keith there with you?”

“He’s asleep... I’m sorry for calling... I would have turned to Mami, but...”

“No. No. I’m glad you called. I want to be there for the both of you. Yes, I was scared. But nothing like Keith’s father. The slightest thing and he wanted to rush me off to the emergency department. You’re under a lot of stress. Have you been...?”

Lance shook his head, then remember Krolia couldn’t see him shaking his head

“Not yet. I freaked out and Keith had to take care of me...”

“You’re nearing the end of the pregnancy. Fears happen. I know that all too well. Especially how the insomnia can play on your mind. You’ve both been through so much, and I heard from Curtis that you were looking forward to some alone time with Keith. My opinion is that you let Keith take care of you. He’s strong”

“He’s not that strong when it comes to his dad”

“No, but keeping it in will only make him worry more. He loves you. If anything were to happen to you... well, I feel sorry for whoever crosses you. I believe both of you would sense actual danger”

“How am I supposed to know the difference?!”

“You’ll know. Take these feeling of fear and ignore them. Push them aside. They’re useless. Focus on you and my grand babies. You should be safe there. Coran didn’t mention anything about anyone living there that you should be wary about”

Lance sniffled. Krolia hadn’t given him much of anything useful and it sucked... but she tried in her own way

“Thanks, Krolia. I’m going to go back to Keith now”

“No worries. Let me know how everything goes. You can call me. Anything you two need...”

“Yeah. I will. I... thanks for talking to me...”

“Anytime. I’m your mother too. You can come to me”

  Coming out the bathroom, Keith was awake, meaning he’d heard some, if not all, Lance’s side of the phone call. Stopping a few steps into the room, he expected Keith to be angry at him for admitting he hadn’t thought of his precious boyfriend’s safety. He hadn’t thought of anything much when it came to the more important things he should have been almost paranoid about

“Babe... come here”

Holding his arm out, Lance caved instantly as he moved to climb into bed with Keith, his emotions getting the better of him as he started crying again. Krolia wasn’t Mami. She didn’t give advice like Mami did. The vampire craving that maternal touch, that Krolia had only taken the point off of

“That’s it. I’m here... I’m here, let it all out”

“I’m sorry”

Keith gentle ran his fingers through Lance’s hair, hushing him softly

“Shhhh... I’ve got you. I’m okay and you’re okay. It’s okay”

“I miss Mami”

“I know you do, babe. I know. Let it out... let it all out”

  He was such a selfish boyfriend, yet Keith loved him anyway. He didn’t deserve the love he felt from Keith, but he did notice that together like this, the fear had mostly gone away. There really was no substitute for cuddles with Keith.