#and then you give your borrowed cells back to the earth that gave it to you

[anachronic-cobra]

What is something you find beautiful that you feel like no one else sees the beauty in?

[amarimaryllis]

Sleep-Deprived (Daichi x Reader)

Pairing: Daichi/Reader Prompt/Summary: Daichi overhears you spilling all your feelings about him to Kiyoko. Tags: Fluff Note: I used she/her pronouns for the reader, Extremely self-indulgent (made this fic just to scream over Daichi) Warnings: Mild swearing, Slight mentions of insecurity

You had a lot of terrible ideas, and pulling an all-nighter just to study for an exam is one of them. It isn’t exactly the worst idea you could muster from three working brain cells, but it’s still terrible. Honestly speaking, it would’ve been fine. It seriously would’ve been fine if you didn’t open your mouth. It was one of the few effects that sleep deprivation had on you: losing whatever filter you had. Words slur from your mouth in your sleepy state, and it never passes through your brain for approval or disapproval. It just goes straight out of your mouth.

It was a team effort though. If only your lovely friend, Shimizu Kiyoko, had not talked you up when you were drunk on the lack of sleep, then maybe you wouldn’t be stuck in your current predicament.

“Y/N?” Kiyoko lightly tapped you on the shoulder, your sleeping form sprawled out on your desk as you try to squeeze in a few minutes of sleep before class starts. “How much sleep did you get last night?”

You shift your head, turning to look at your friend with droopy eyes. “Around“, your yawn interrupts you mid-sentence, “an hour?”

Kiyoko sighs as she pulls her pens out of her bag and arranges them neatly on her desk. “Why did you stay up so late? It’s not like we have a quiz today.”

Your eyes shoot open, a dark look in your eyes as you look at Kiyoko. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah?” Kiyoko looks at you, her eyebrows furrowed as she tries to make sense of what you’re trying to say. “Did you think we have a quiz today?”

You shot up straight in your seat, feeling slightly betrayed as you thought back to a certain grey-haired setter’s words.

‘I heard that Takahashi-sensei is giving a surprise quiz tomorrow.’

You move back to sleep on your desk, mumbling insults lowly as you shut your eyes. “Sugawara told me that we had a quiz in Math.”

Kiyoko stifled her amusement, not wanting to add insult to your injury. “You actually believed him?”

“Yes.” You answered curtly before proceeding to grumble as you shifted to find a comfortable position. “Evil monster. How could he do that to me?”

“Well-“

Kiyoko is interrupted as her phone buzzes. She grins a little as she looks from the message on her phone to the female hunched over the desk. “Sawamura’s asking if I have notes from Takahashi-sensei’s recent lecture.”

Y/N, despite her sleepy state, makes an effort to play it off coolly. Her eyes remain shut as she mumbles out in reply to Kiyoko. “And?”

“Didn’t you study for math last night?” Kiyoko states as she replies to Daichi’s text with a ‘No, but Y/N has. You can borrow hers.’

You nodded as you tried to calm the racing of your heart. Just hearing Daichi’s name had you feeling all sorts of giddy.

“I told Sawamura he could borrow your notes.” Kiyoko held back a small smile as a plan formulated in her head. One where it would end with her two friends together.

If it was even possible, your heart started racing even faster. Daichi? Early in the morning? You were so happy and nervous at the thought of seeing him that you couldn’t stop your mouth from running. “Oh, he can borrow more than just my notes.”

“Why don’t you just confess?” Kiyoko asks you in a straightforward manner as she opens up her notebook. The girl had known both for three years already, and in those three years, they’ve been doing nothing but dance around their feelings.

At that same moment, someone walks into your classroom. “Kiyoko, where’s Y/N-“

However, neither you nor Kiyoko notices the newcomer, stuck in your little bubble.

You sat up at Kiyoko’s question and went into your rant before you could even worry about who could hear you. “Daichi’s just so perfect? What does someone like me have to offer him? He’s strong, reliable, sporty, smart, and it doesn’t help that he’s really attractive. Sometimes I just wanna go to his mom and say ‘Thank you, ma’am, for giving birth to this god amongst men’. I’m so whipped it’s pathetic!” You huff as you turn to look at Kiyoko. “Like who even gave Sawamura Daichi the right to be this damn fine-“

Your words stop short as you notice the figure standing a few meters behind Kiyoko. “Oh shit. Am I dreaming?”

Daichi stood a few meters away, a blush on his cheeks as he looked to the side and rubbed the back of his neck.

All color drains from your face as the situation hits you like a brick chucked by a world-renowned pitcher. You had just poured your feelings out about your crush and said crush just had to overhear it.

Kiyoko looks at you weirdly before asking. “What’s wrong?”

You’re unable to reply, just staring at Daichi who looked like he didn’t know what to say either.

Kiyoko follows your gaze and turns her head around, and she stiffens in her seat. “Sawamura, you’re here.”

Daichi gulps, his Adam’s apple moving visibly. “Yeah.”

Kiyoko stands up without a word and walks out of the classroom, and you can only gape after her.

“Traitor.” You mumble under your breath as you slam your forehead on the desk with a light thud.

A million thoughts are running through your head. Your brain is working faster than it ever did before, and you’re kind of bitter at how it only works this fast now and not when you actually need it to function. What would happen to you? Daichi probably thinks you’re weird now. Anyone would be weirded out at the thought of your mother receiving thanks for birthing you, right? What if Daichi is so disgusted with you and he just goes away? Worse, what if Suga finds out and never lets you hear the end of it? Oh, the constant torment from him would be so bad that you’d never go to school. Your education would be at risk! All this because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

You were internally screaming, and it was so loud that you didn’t notice Daichi moving to sit in the spot that Kiyoko was in just a few seconds ago before she betrayed you and left you with Daichi right after you made a fool of yourself. You wanted to run away so badly, but you were just frozen on the spot. You could only clench your fists on your lap and squeeze your eyes tightly and hope that Daichi walks away.

The chair screeches loudly as Daichi pulls the chair he was sitting closer to your desk.

You could feel your heart beating even faster because you could sense how close Daichi was, and damn was he real close. As you clench your fists tighter, you could only wish that the floor beneath you opens up and lets the earth swallow you whole.

Warmth spreads through your wrist as a calloused hand encircles it. “Ease up on the grip, you might hurt yourself.”

You turn your head and look at where Daichi is holding you. You couldn’t even look him in the eye as he unfurls your fingers slowly. You relax your hands but the rest of your body is tense, unable to comprehend the situation. Your eyes grow wide as you watch Daichi gently bring your hand to press on his chest right above where his heart is.

His heart is beating really fast, you noted.

You sat up straight and just stared at Daichi, not knowing what to say or do as he gazes at you intensely.

“Can you feel how fast my heart is beating?” Daichi asks as he stares into your eyes as if he was searching for something.

You could only nod in reply, unable to trust your voice in fear that it may come out shaky. Your mind was blank. You couldn’t think of anything. All coherent thoughts were consumed by Daichi’s presence and the feeling of his hand around your wrist.

“Do you know why?” Daichi asked softly as his thumb gently stroked the back of your hand that was on his chest (MAN WAS THAT MAKING YOU FEEL ALL SORTS OF THINGS).

Once again, you were filterless. Even embarrassment was not enough to sober you up. “You’re afraid of me cause you probably think I’m weird after overhearing the things I said-“

Daichi shuts you up by moving the hand that was your wrist to your forearm and tugging you to him before he gently presses his lips against yours to shut you up.

Your eyes were wide.

Nothing was sinking in.

Except it kind of is sinking in.

His lips were soft against yours, a stark contrast to the feeling of his calloused hand that had moved to cup your cheek. You could only close your eyes, melt into his touch, and wish that this moment never ends. Your heart was beating so fast and your body felt so warm as Daichi continued to move his lips against yours.

Daichi pulls away first, his hand still on the side of your face as he strokes your cheek. “If it helps, I’m considering going to your house and personally thanking your mom for giving birth to you.”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you look away from Daichi. Daichi doesn’t let you and grabs your chin lightly to make you look at him.

You were so tempted to faint then and there as Daichi gazes into your eyes warmly, a smile gracing his lips as he moves to speak. “This isn’t exactly how I planned to confess, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Shock. Just pure shock. It was written all over your face. Sure, he kissed you, but there are times where you’re pretty damn dense where you needed things to be spelt out for you in glowing neon letters. Hearing your crush confess to you had you feeling all sorts of happy, nervous, and doubtful.

“Y/N.” The way he said your name made you want to melt into a puddle right there. “I really like you. Will you go out with me?”

“Yes.” You grinned widely as you lunged towards Daichi and wrapped your arms around his neck. You still couldn’t believe it, but you sure as hell weren’t about to let this moment fly by you. If this was a dream, then you can only wish that it would never end.

Daichi smiled as he wrapped his arms around your waist tightly but gently, not wanting to let go of you now that he has you in his arms, something he had only dreamt about before overhearing your conversation with Kiyoko.

Deep in your mind, you thanked Sugawara. If he didn’t give you false information that led to you pulling an all-nighter, you wouldn’t have blurted out your feelings like an idiot, and you would have never gained this opportunity with your longtime crush.

A/N: Another old fic, phew. This one was the first Haikyuu fanfic I ever made, so it’s not that polished, but I still do like it. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this one!

[dorindameddler]

les yeux sans visage: a playlist for lonely eyes (spotify)

1. spotlight - jessie ware // 2. shaking - hazel english // 3. savage good boy - japanese breakfast // 4. comfort edge - helena deland // 5. messy - serpentwithfeet // 6. pretty things - big thief // 7. be good - pom pom squad // 8. the eye - waxahatchee // 9. need your love - tennis // 10. cigarette - marika hackman // 11. home to you - cate le bon // 12. devil's spoke - laura marling // 13. eyes without a face - angel olsen // 14. fabric - half waif // 15. melt - nilufer yanya // 16. the last man on earth - wolf alice

selection of lyrics under the cut

spotlight

Do anything to make you stay/Do anything to start the day again/(Ah, ah, ah)/If I had everything my way/We'd travel back and forth and back again/If only I could let you go, if only I could be alone/I just wanna stay in moonlight, this is our time in the spotlight

shaking

When we are together/Do I drive you wild?/You're out of your senses/Easily beguiled/Pray for me/I want to commit sin/Waters deep/But I'm already half in/You're shaking/This is an awakening/You're shaking/I know it's a lot to take in

savage good boy

I want to be your man/I want to be your savage good boy/I want to take care of you/When everybody's gone/Want you to be the one that I come home to/The one that's up waiting/I want to make the money 'til there's no more to be made/And we will be so wealthy, I'm absolved from questioning/That all my bad behavior was just a necessary strain/They're the stakes in the race to win

comfort edge

You'll make it so/It's easy for me to get away from you/Without me having to tell you/Where I go and what I do/And all the while protecting and giving me security/I never have to doubt when I come back/You'll still be there for me/Give me comfort, give me edge/Make it easy, make me beg/Let me come for calm and peace/Never stop surprising me

messy

I've been sitting alone for hours/Waiting for you to bring your ugliest parts to me/I've been naming our thorns for hours/Hoping you'll treat them as kindly as you treated me/Oh, I've been thinking like a beast for hours/Wondering if you like the challenge of cruel men, me/After I glamour you for hours/Will you have the strength/The strength to extinguish me/Each time you deny my mess (each time)/You'll find yourself closer to me, closer to me

pretty things

Matthew, please do not regret/With your silk in my hand/And your heart in my sweat as you're/Lighting the end of my last cigarette/I will warm you/Warm youThese things that lonely ones do/Baby that's what I'm here for/I'll take care and make all your/Wishes come true/If you want to/Do you want to?/Don't take me for a fool/There's a woman inside of me/There's one inside of you, too

be good

Shine your light on me and then/I'm tapping on the glass again/Now I'm in love with everything I see/Because you know that I'm your pet/You left a note before you left/It said, "'Til then, be good and wait for me"

the eye

I leave my home, desolate but not alone/I have a gift, I've been told, for seeing what's there/And I will chase all the rain, put it down, call it paint/To possess something arcane, oh it's a heavy weight/We leave love behind/Without a tear or a long goodbye/And as we wait for lightning to strike/We are enthralled by the calling of the eye

need your love

I need your love/And I need your touch/Like I need a bolt of lightning/From the sky above/I've been thinking about you/Thinking about you/I can't escape you, oh

cigarette

Turn to the headlight glare/Cry and pretend you care/I love it when we make a scene/Something to talk about/Rather than fucking shout/Maybe we could go to sleep/And you tried to hold your tongue/But I, I yanked it from your grip/Bathed it in petroleum/Lit a cigarette and gave you a kiss

home to you

Home to you/Is a neighborhood in the night kitchen/Home to you/Is atrocity in the town/Home to you/Is an impasse under hallway ceilings/Home to you/I'm a cross hair, stubborn, dream loving/And it's home, to you, oh/Home to you, oh/If we meet/And they drink from borrowed cups/You read the room to me/All the changing of the light is torture

devil's spoke

I might be apart of this/Ripple on water from a lonesome drip/A fallen tree that witness me/I'm alone, him and me/And then life it's self can not aspire/To have someone be so admired/I threw creation to my king/Have the silence broken by a whispered wind/All of this can be broken/All of this can be broken/Hold your devil by his spoke and spin him to the ground

eyes without a face

I'm all out of hope/One more bad dream could bring a fall/When I'm far from home/Don't call me on the phone to tell me you're alone/It's easy to deceive, it's easy to tease/But hard to get release/Eyes without a face/(Les yeux sans visage) Eyes without a face/(Les yeux sans visage) Eyes without a face/Got no human grace, you're eyes without a face

fabric

Have I forgotten how to be alone? I blame you/Your colors in my mood, your body in my room/To be a bird and tuck my head into my feathered neck/Watch all the world turn black, wish I could live like that/But you keep breaking me apart/You keep making me a part/And I'm too tired to fight/Your fabric in my heart

melt

I bet your brain cells won't last/I bet they cling to the trash/I hope you melt on the way/Back to your place/Because the sunshine don't last/Help me take out the trash/And you were always too slow/I'll watch you melt

the last man on earth

Who are you to ask for anything more?/Do you wait for your dancing lessons to be sent from God?/You'd like his light to shine on you/You've really missed a trick when it comes to love/Always seeking what you don't have like what you do ain't enough/You'd like a light to shine on you/And every book you take/And you dust off from the shelf/Has lines between lines between lines/That you read about yourself/But does a light shine on you?

[karimac]

...in the details, Part 2

A/N: Warning for this series: 18+ audience (minors DNI), some cinematic level violence, some fluff and angst. Doubt that smut will be involved, but it may be implied. I’ll make sure that is noted clearly if it pops up.

All relationships, at this point anyway, are platonic.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

A bit about the OC Kari

Part 1

All mistakes are my own.

Word count: 2,249

Before you ventured into Westview, a flight of birds overhead reminded you of Redwing and Sam. Poor Sam. That sixth sense you had told you that fight at the compound was going to lead you all into very weird places. And the first one left you very squarely not in the room once again.

This time it was Steve and Bucky being thick as thieves, and you and Sam were…making a sandwich run? Couldn’t exactly get GrubHub to make a delivery to an attack site, could you? Bruce did not want some driver with a cellphone putting video up on Snapchat. “How would that look?” he bemoaned as he worked on the time travel platform. “We’d be getting tourists left and right. I don’t need that.” So off you and Sam went.

“You know, you could just, you know,” Sam started to say as he waved his hands like he thought a wizard would do, “and just poof up a plate of stuff. Right? With extra food for Banner, of course. He inhales tacos like nobody’s business. Just ask Tic Tac.”

“Sam, what have I told all of you before? Magic is the transfer of energy and matter. No suitable food stuff means no sandwiches. I can’t just think about the deli counter at Wegman’s and make a sandwich and a side of coleslaw appear in my hand. So, we’ll order on the app and pick it up. Just like everyone else. Before I hit the button, any changes to your order?”

“No, it’s fine. But don’t tell me you’ve never done shit like that when you’ve had your back against it,” Falcon huffed as you went to the rental car you’d gotten earlier in the day. That, thank Heaven, was easy to get at the local but extremely small airport.

“I’ve killed small rodents and eaten them, and I don’t mean just rabbits. Snakes, too. And, well, birds of prey, like falcons,” you groaned as you started to get into the car, but you stopped and headed back to the passenger side. “And I know you hate my driving, so here you go,” you said as you handed Sam the keys. “Sorry it isn’t a Ferrari. I was lucky to get this Kia. They didn’t exactly have anything race course worthy.”

As Sam climbed in, he saw bags of gear in the back seat. “You pulling a Wanda? Need some me time away from all us testosterone jockeys? Cyborg is going to be pissed.”

“Bucky has other stuff to deal with, trust me,” you said as you rolled your eyes. “He does not need to add Crazy Old Broad to his growing list of things to do and people to take care of this week. I heard him talking to Steve…”

“You? Eavesdropping? You are human!” Sam smirked, but then he saw the comment had hit a nerve. “You know I was kidding, right?”

“I know you are,” you said as you swallowed hard. In reality, you were not exactly buying that last comment. Sam was a sweetheart, but his comment sounded like things Tony and Steve had said about you in the weeks before the Time Heist. It depended on the situation, but one or the other of them seemed to question you, your motives, your powers and what they could do, and, at times, your grasp on reality. You did have a connection to a goddess they couldn’t see. Blaming them for having those questions just was not in your wheelhouse. “And yeah, maybe I just need to go figure a few things out. You guys know how to get me back here if you need me.”

“Somehow I don’t think Steve, Bucky and I would look so great standing and screaming your name in the middle of a fight,” Sam noted as he finally turned the key in the ignition.

“Now who is having issues with gender roles?” you said with a very pronounced side glance. “Sam, we are all human. We all need a save now and then. Maybe you’ll never have to utter my name again after today, unless you guys can’t find something you think I hid? Thor will be back once he’s done exploring the universe, and you can always get him here fast if you have Strange find him. And Wong is just dying for his shot as a full time Avenger. We all know that! And I can go back and do, well, goddess stuff, I guess. And raise horses. Just, please, make sure no one drops the ball on Parker. He lost his parents and his uncle. Losing Tony will hit him harder than anyone likely expects. He’s a good kid. He just needs support and guidance. Now, want to get this thing moving, or do you want me to drive?”

“And have you antagonize the local cops by going Mach 1? No thank you!”

You had to laugh at that one. You did tend to floor it. A lot.

++++++++++

A short time later, you and Sam rolled back to the site Bruce had chosen to set up the time travel platform. After you two handed out all the food, you realized it was really time for you to get going. No, you didn’t have a train, plane or bus to catch or someone to meet. You just knew it was going to get harder to make the break the longer you stayed there.

“She’s pulling a Wanda on us,” Sam said as he finished off the last of the sweet tea he had grabbed at the deli where you’d gotten food. “I think it’s too much he-man macho stuff, but she won’t fess up to that.”

“Wilson, how many brothers did I have?” you asked as you cleaned up the trash from the table Bruce had borrowed from a local park that had been wrecked during the battle. It had a huge hole in the end, but hey, it was good enough for the moment.

“Eight,” Bucky replied before Sam got the chance. “Just don’t quiz me on all their names. I remember your twin, Branan, and the one who was the vampire. Ewan? Right?”

“Yup, that’s right,” you grinned at Buck. “And no quiz. Promise,” you said as you raised your left hand and crossed your heart with your right.

“Why are you leaving?” Bruce asked as he adjusted the sling on his still injured arm, putting extra emphasis on the word “are” as he uttered it. “We need all the help we can get.”

Bruce, heaven help him, was suddenly one of the last active OG Avengers standing on Earth. Thor was off finding himself with the Guardians, and no one could really begrudge him that. He needed time to heal, and you knew all too well that was not easy nor time limited. Clint had more or less retired again after Natasha’s sacrifice on Vormir. Steve was getting ready to take the stones back, but upon his return, he’d likely join up with Sam and Bucky again to root out any remaining Hydra cells. That left Bruce in a very different place this time around.

“Bruce, you don’t really need me being a head case. Trust me. You do not need me giving any news outlets ammunition to blast headlines that make the team look less than spotless. I need to go home, at least for a little while,” you replied, knowing full well you were not telling him or the others everything. “And as I reminded Sam, you guys can just call me, and I’ll be here. Just whisper my name. Or yell it. Whatever works. Text me! If it’s an emergency, and if I’m not in the middle of some new damned war on my end, I’ll come running. But I have a feeling you guys are going to be just fine. Hell, I’ll give you a blessing before I head out.”

Yeah. A blessing. More like the final nail in the coffin. The words to start the spell to make them forget you.

“Big guy, you first,” you said as you put your hands on Bruce’s injured right arm. “And no, I am doing this, Bruce. It won’t be a full healing, but it should speed things up. You got this, big guy. Biggest brain. Biggest heart. May you realize just how much this team was built with your sweat and tears as it was anyone else’s.”

“I can’t change your mind?” Bruce asked as he pretended to wipe a tear from his eye and pout a bit. “And I am not asking because you are likely the only one of us who can cook…”

“I’m pretty sure all of you guys can cook something. Maybe not a good Colcannon or a fine Dublin coddle, but you’ll survive. As for the cupcakes, you guys may need to get a bakery on speed dial,” you added with a laugh because you knew they’d make that bakery rich. The Avengers loved their sugary snacks.

“Just don’t bug my sister, Bruce,” Sam noted as he waited for you to come over to him. “I still remember asking why the Cupcake Lady had a sword that night when those demon things attacked near the tower. I never asked. Why the cupcakes?”

“And not why the demons or the sword?” you said as you nearly choked on your words. “You realize that was before Steve saw me at Peggy’s funeral. That night was truly a fluke, Sam. No one was supposed to see that side of me then. As for the cupcakes, they were my entry to your world. Gifts from a fan girl. They’re easy to carry, a synch to personalize when needed, and everyone can have their own without fighting,” you said with a grin as Sam shook his head. “What?”

“You sound like Sarah.”

“Then I am in good company. Tell her the good stuff you’ve told me all these years. The words of wisdom. The little jokes. The pep talks. Tell her often. A single mom with two boys needs that. Be there for her, and drag these guys to see her, too. It would do the boys a world of good to have all their uncles stop by. Now, Samuel,” you said as you gave him a hug, “remember to keep these guys flying right. And if the world drops opportunity in your lap, whatever it might be, do not look at it and push it away without a lot of thought. The world needs Sam Wilson, the hero with a heart.”

And now the hardest part of this good bye had you wiping tears from your eyes. “I know. I’m a big mush. Girls from Brooklyn would laugh at me for this, right? Sorry, but girls from Naas and Athy do cry sometimes. I’m going to miss you two lugs. A lot.”

“Lugs. Last time you called us that was in ’43,” Bucky said as he looked down at his feet for a minute. “Somehow Hydra missed that memory.”

“You’ll see us again,” Steve said as he turned briefly to see where the case with the stones was on the platform. “But this time, it better not take 70 years.”

As you looked at the best friends, something about their auras seemed off. They had been planning something when you almost walked in on their chat a few days ago. You had no idea what it was, and you suddenly didn’t want to hang around to find out what the next act was going to bring.

“Just…watch your back, Steve. From what Clint said about Vormir, that one is going to be tough. And Buck, whatever comes next, I’m rooting for you. Even if you can’t see me doing it.”

“You really don’t have to leave,” Bruce kept insisting as you hefted your backpack on your shoulder.

“Dr. Banner, do you really want to fight my demons after all this? I have enemies. You just haven’t seen them yet. Frankly, the only reason that Hydra didn’t grab me before I hooked up with the Howling Commandos was because I was pulled into another dimension by one of those enemies. It was only by some weird twist of fate that Peggy found me when she did. If the veil between worlds had not been so thin near that camp, I might never have made it back, or Hydra might have found me first. It was pure dumb luck.”

{{And, Heaven help me, part of it was these two lugs over here}} you thought as you turned to head to your car. Then you stopped. This was a lot harder than it had been any time before, but it was the curse of an immortal to have to keep moving on. “I wish you luck, joy and happiness. I wish you peace. And, if you are truly lucky, memories long enough to have little space to spare for the likes of me because they are filled with so much more! See you in my dreams, for now anyway, fellas.”

++++++++++

You rolled out of there before Steve started his mission to return the stones, and you got a text from Bruce hours later telling you everything that had happened. Steve not coming back as planned. Then an older version of Steve shows up, sitting on a bench near the platform, and he gives Sam the shield. Right in front of Bucky.

It was now weeks later. No. It was months later, and here you were staring up at the sign for Westview. You’d gotten out of your rental car so you could get a feeling for the area around this little town.

“You made it back,” a voice said behind you. “How are you, after all that mess with Wanda and that Agatha woman? She was a real piece of work.”

The person speaking to you was Dr. Darcy Lewis. Friend of Thor and Dr. Jane Foster. Why was she even here?

You couldn’t fully figure out what the hell she was talking about. You didn’t remember being here before. Yet, you knew who she was, and you had never met her before. Or at least you couldn’t remember meeting her, here or anywhere else.

“Apparently not as great as I thought I was,” you muttered as you winced again. “Dr. Lewis, how long ago was the blip?”

“Give or take a week, about six months ago,” she replied as you started to pace. “Why?”

“Shit. Not this again,” you hissed as you looked up at the sign once more. “I think I’m going to need your help. How much do you know about Celtic myths and Irish history, Dr. Lewis?”

[imagine-loki]

Omega Mine

TITLE: Omega Mine

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 12/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Loosely based on: Imagine Loki discovers the Avengers have an omega who has healing powers living with them. He’s an Alpha and he wants her, badly. 

RATING: M (eventually ) 

NOTES/WARNINGS:  Also on AO3 click here

You blushed at that tone coming from Loki.  You weren’t surprised that he would cheat to sit next to you.  He was your Alpha and it was only natural for him to want to be close, even if he hadn’t claimed you yet. The instincts were still there.  You both understood that you needed to know each other better, to make sure it was a good match before you succumbed to your instincts.  

You’d never heard of instincts being wrong before and most Alphas and Omegas immediately gave in to those instincts and were happy together.  It was like a soulmate bond in mushy romance books.  Still, being careful didn’t hurt.

The team chatted together through dinner as usual.  It was like a big family.  Usually.  They were wary about Loki.  “So, Reindeer Games, why are you on Earth again?” Tony asked.  He was an Omega, but really didn’t act like it.  He was always willing to step up to the plate and poke anyone and anything to get a reaction.  

Loki huffed and stiffened.  He looked so closed off and angry.  So you did what any good Omega would do.  You gave him a bright smile and drew his attention to you.  “I know your last trip to Earth wasn’t good, hopefully this one will be better,”

Loki stopped glaring at Tony to look at you.  His expression softened, though you saw chained sexuality in that gaze as well.  He wanted you, badly.  “I am quite sure it will be, Elskling,” he replied warmly to you.  He looked at the others and knew that he needed to answer Tony’s original questions.  “The Allfather refuses to believe that the events of the Chitauri attack were not my fault, despite the testimony of Thor and my mother.  He decreed that I be locked away for my ‘crimes’,”

“Wasn’t it your doing?” Tony pushed again.  

You would’ve kicked him under the table if you could.  Especially when you saw the pain and haunted look in Loki’s eyes.  You reached over and laid your hand on top of Loki’s while Steve glared at Tony.  “Enough, Stark,” he said, his voice an Alpha growl.  You knew that Steve was still getting used to being an Alpha.  His Alpha aura flared more than he clearly intended at that order. Tony’s eyes glazed at the order from the strong Alpha.  At least he wouldn’t be causing more trouble for awhile.  Even he couldn’t go against such a direct order from such a strong Alpha.  

Loki looked down at your hand on his.  He shifted his hand to take yours and squeezed it gently, clearly appreciating your small gesture to reassure him.  Thor looked surprised and you had the feeling that Loki didn’t usually like being touched.  Clearly, you were an exception to that.  That was to be expected.  Omegas were generally allowed casual touches to help calm and soothe those around them.  

Loki looked back up to address the question.  “No, it wasn’t my doing.  I was abducted by Thanos, the mad titan and tortured.  He used the mind stone on me to force me to come here and attack Midgard in his quest for the Infinity Stones,” Loki explained, pain in his voice at the memories.  

You saw the look in Bucky’s eyes too.  The same haunted look.  He had been tortured by Hydra, his mind and memories erased and scrambled so many times that he had trouble remembering what was real and what wasn’t at times.  He was still healing.  Loki was too.   

“Mother fought for Loki’s release from the unjust punishment.  She is still working on getting him entirely off the hook, but Father allowed her to change Loki’s punishment.  He no longer has to spend his days in a cell and was allowed to come to Midgard to help make amends,” Thor explained to the team.  He had the demeanor that he always wanted to look out for his little brother. Though you could also tell that there was trouble in their relationship.  

Once that explanation was out of the way, the team got to introducing themselves properly.  Clint and Bucky both accepted Loki’s story easily, both had been under mind control before.  Since Clint accepted it, Nat accepted it, though she remained a bit wary, mostly for your sake since you were unclaimed.  The rest treated him as a new member, which was the best anyone could hope for at the moment.  

You told stories and chatted amongst yourselves as you ate, telling stories of missions, of battles that Asgardians had been in, letting Loki get to know them, their abilities, their past.  Loki relaxed, though seemed disinclined to let go of your hand.  That was alright.  You could eat with one hand.  

“Are we having movie night?” You asked toward the end of dinner when there was a lull in the conversation.  

The Alphas all turned their attention to you with fond smiles.  “Gladly,” Steve said warmly while the others all agreed quickly.  Movie night was a comfortable way that they could all spend the evening in your presence and soak up an Omega’s aura.  Tony and Bruce just didn’t give off the same aura, given their backgrounds.  

“Movie night?” Loki asked you.  

You nodded and smiled up at him.  “Do you have movies on Asgard?” You asked, unsure what his world did and didn’t have. He shook his head, looking curious, interested, and confused at all the Midgardian things he was going to have to learn about.  “It’s like a play that you can watch anytime,”

Loki considered that and nodded. “That could be entertaining,” he agreed. 

The team predictably argued over what movie you would watch while the dishes were gathered to wash.  You got up and led Loki to the DVD shelf so you could look over movies with him and help him pick out which one he wanted to watch.  You saw his eyes light up at one.  “They have the story of Hiccup and Toothless?  It was my favorite book as a child,” he said with childish glee in his eyes.  

You grinned and pulled it off the shelf.  “They do.  It’s one of my favorites,” you told him brightly.  “Though I’ll be curious as to how this version is different than the one you know,”

Loki summoned an old leather-bound volume in a shimmer of green magic.  He waved a hand over it with another shimmer of green magic before he handed it over to you.  “Now you can read the original for yourself.  I translated it into English for you,” he said warmly, with a look in his eyes that he was proud to be able to do something to please his Omega.

You accepted the ancient volume with reverence.  “Loki… this is amazing.  Are you sure I can borrow it?” It looked old and precious, though it was perfectly well cared for.  Your fingers traced the leather cover and you somehow resisted the urge to smell the pages.  At least not in front of Loki.  Old books just had the very best smell.  

“Yes, Elskling,” he replied in a purr, glad you were pleased.  You vanished the book to safety so you could read it later.

“Did you two pick a movie?” Nat asked as she and the rest of the team started to file into the common room.

You nodded, but before you could answer her, you all jumped as the tower alarm started blaring.

A moment later, you found strong arms around you as Loki hauled you to him, hissing softly like a puffed-up, affronted cat.  His battle armor shimmered into existence and he held you securely to his side, his cape over you, to shield you from view and protect you as he summoned his weapon.  It was an Alpha’s instinct to protect their Omega and Loki had acted without even thinking.

[imagine-docx]

for b.

Summary: The three times Bucky was insecure, and the one time you proved you loved him with your entire heart. [continuation of sneaky] [chubby!neighbour!au]

Warnings: body shaming, self doubt, swearing

A/N: the amount of love i got on sneaky is astronomical! thank you all for reading my work, and for those of you who asked, here’s a lil part 2 for you. - amanda 💛

if you haven’t read sneaky, click here to read it. reading it isn’t necessary, but many highly recommend reading it. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You’ve made thousands of horrible decisions over the course of your life, but dating James Buchanan Barnes is not one of them. Dating him is probably one of the best things to happen to you. You still get butterflies anytime he picks you up from work, spontaneously calls you, random ‘i love you texts’, the entire works.

Since dating Bucky, you’ve seen his insecurities at an all time high. Which was completely understandable considering what happened to him in his last relationship.

For the first three weeks, he always tried hiding his metal arm. That was until one night you two were watching a movie in your living room and you practically had to crawl into his metal arm and reassure you loved him, metal arm or not.

He constantly shied away from your cell phone’s camera. Which ultimately resulted in you taking cute couple photos when he was asleep, and his face was buried in your neck, but he doesn’t know those photos exist.

One night the two of you were working at your living room table and he bent to give you a slice of pie, and his stomach accidentally brushed your arm. Which resulted in word vomit from him apologizing, and you opening the floodgate of reassurance telling him not to apologize and he was the cutest thing to exist.

The longer the two of you dated, it got slightly better, but still your heart ached at the fact that he doesn’t see himself as worthy enough to date you.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The morning after the first time you two had sex, was probably the worst you’ve seen him at.

That morning he rolled over to wrap his arm around you, but that was until he was greeted with a cold and empty space next to him. He opened his eyes and realized you were gone. He rolled back onto his back and covered his eyes with his flesh arm, and felt the tears form in his eyes. He knew you would be too disgusted at his naked body, and were right to run when you could.

He suddenly felt a weight straddling him, as well as a pair of soft hands cradle his face, “Baby? What’s wrong?”

His eyes snapped open, there you were in one of his old red henleys and your panties, “You’re here? I thought you left,” he managed to stammer out.

“Alpine looked like he was about to kill you if you withheld food from him for another twenty minutes. Though I love Alpine, I love having a super cuddly boyfriend more,” you said stroking the stubble that littered his jaw, “Now what’s got my baby boy upset?”

“I thought you left after seein-” you cut him off before he even got to his point.

“Nope, and I never will,” you looked into his eyes, “Buck, I love you for you. Six pack or not. Metal arm or not. That doesn’t change the fact that I love you, and will continue to love you.” You pushed the stray strands of hair out of his face, “I fell in love with that heart of gold you have. The one that cooks me dinner when I work late because he’s worried I'm not eating good. Or when he comes and picks me up out of nowhere for coffee. Or all those times we’ve cuddled while watching movies and you pretend you don’t fall asleep. Hell even when you’re pissed off at Mario Kart. I love everything about you.”

Bucky teared up once again before pulling you into his arms and engulfing you in the tightest hug you’ve ever gotten. He buried his face into your hair, “I love you so much doll.”

“I love you more Buck, don’t forget that,” you said stroking his back.

“Can we stay here all day?” He asked.

“As much as I want to say yes, we need food,” you said, as he pulled away and looked into your eyes.

“All the food I need is here,” he said squeezing at your hips.

“Listen babe, as much as this is fun, you worked up an appetite. I’m gonna need to eat if you’re gonna be jumping at my bones all day,” you said stroking his hair, “I got Wanda to drop off bagels and coffee, so we need to eat.”

He groaned before letting out a, “Fine.” He untangled himself from you, and got up and put on a pair of boxers, he looked back to see you looking at him biting your lower lip. “Are you checking me out?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re the hottest thing to walk this earth,” you said getting up from the bed.

He wrapped his arms around your waist before planting a peck onto your lips, “I love you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I love you more. Now go brush your teeth and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

He planted another soft one before releasing you, and the moment he turned around, he felt a light tap on his ass. He turned back to see you practically ran out of the bedroom giggling. You would be the death of James Buchanan Barnes.

The rest of your day consisted of random love making on random surfaces, cuddling, napping and eating.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The second time you’ve caught his insecurities at a high was one night that the entire office had to go for drinks late in the evening and he shot you a ‘SOS’ text.

You let yourself in with the key he gave you and made your way up to his bedroom, walking in, you saw the amount of clothing that buried his bed, and Alpine snuggled against one of his military green t-shirts.

You saw Bucky’s back in the closet, you quickly lifted up Alpine who meowed at you, and took the shirt and hid it under your body.

He didn’t know you were there, because he walked back and threw yet another set of clothes and yelped when he saw you were there, “Jesus Christ doll, warn me when you’re here next time.”

“Now as much as I love fashion, I didn’t think you were into it. So what’s happening?” You asked him, as he held up two shirts against his body in the mirror.

“Office drinks, and I have no clue what to wear. I was hoping my fashionable girlfriend would help her clueless boyfriend out,” he said turning around and pouting at you.

“I guess I have to put my job to use,” you jokingly said.

Looking at the pile of clothes on his bed, you knew he was searching for too long before he sent you the text. Kind of like how you can tell how old a fossil is based on how much material is on top of it.

“Did I break my girlfriend? Does she not even know where to start?” He jokingly asked.

“No, just my boyfriend being stupid and not realizing he looks cute in everything he wears,” you responded, looking under his pile of clothes.

He could feel his cheeks burn up, he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face into your hair, “Thank you.”

You managed to pull out a military green bomber jacket, a black t-shirt and some black jeans. “Bam, an outfit.”

He kissed your hair before pulling away, “Thank you doll.”

He was about to walk into the washroom to change, “Where do you think you’re going?” You asked.

“To change in the washroom?” He said, confused.

“Change here,” you said.

“A-are you sure?” He stuttered out.

“Buck, I’ve seen you naked thousands of times, this isn’t any different,” you said reassuring him.

He walked back to the bed, and slowly peeled his current outfit off of his body and replaced it with the one you provided him.

“What do you think?” He asked.

“I think that this would look better on the floor,” you said slyly.

He chuckled before throwing the shirt he was previously wearing at you, “Jokes on you, you’re never getting this back.”

“That’s fine with me doll, you look better in my clothes than I do,” he said.

“Are you sweet talking me to avoid paying me for styling services?” You faked offence.

“Is it working?” He joked back.

“A little,” you said fanning yourself.

He laughed, before coming around the other side of the bed, and wrapped his arms around your waist, and you instantly wrapped your arms around his neck. “Will you be here when I come back?” He asked.

“Can I borrow your Disney plus then?” You asked.

“Of course doll, you can have anything you want,” he said kissing your forehead.

“I think you made the worst decision telling me that,” you responded, burying your face into his chest.

“And why’s that?” he hummed out.

“I’m stealing your entire closet, and maybe your cat,” you said.

“I said what I said doll, you look better in my clothes.”

He felt this sense of warmth knowing his girlfriend picked out this outfit and he wore a smile with confidence, which didn’t go unnoticed by Sam. And Sam being the number one hype man he is, kept telling Bucky that if he didn’t have a girlfriend he would have snatched him by now.

He came home later than he anticipated, and heard the soft sounds of the tv playing from his room. He walked into his room hoping you were awake, but his heart melted at the site of you curled up in his bed, wearing his shirt, with his cat next to your sleeping form.

He let the TV softly play while he went to shower so he doesn’t wake you. He came back, moved Alpine to his bed on the floor, and crawled underneath the covers with you.

He thought his heart couldn’t get anymore mushy after seeing you in bed, but the moment he laid down, you curled up into his arms, and his heart exploded.

Turning off the TV, he got comfortable with you before falling asleep.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Bucky sat on your couch reading over one of the files for work, while you were typing away at your laptop. Your eyes were starting to hurt while you were finishing the final details for the fall fashion show that is supposed to happen within the next month.

Pushing yourself away from your laptop, you turned to study your boyfriend. He was in sweats, had his hair pulled back in a low bun, and were innocently chewing on the tip of his pen. “Babe?” You called out.

“Hmm?” He hummed out.

“I need to talk to you,” you responded.

He was still staring at the file in his hand, “Shoot doll.”

“I need your attention,” you responded.

He looked up, only to have you throw yourself into his arms and stay there. “Okay what do you want to talk about?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you responded.

“But you wanted my attention?” He asked, even more confused.

“That’s literally it, I needed your attention,” you said burying your face into his shirt.

He chuckled before tossing the file and pen onto the coffee table in front of him, he wrapped his arms around you. “And I thought I was the needy one.”

“How can I resist myself when I have a hunk of meat sitting on my couch?” You asked.

He rubbed gentle circles into your back, “Hunk? Never heard that one.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“I guess you’re right about that part doll.”

“Have you ever been to a fashion show?” You asked.

“Not in my lifetime,” he responded.

“Come to the one I have next month?” You asked.

“Will my pretty girlfriend be there?” He asked.

“Of course,” you responded.

“Then I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said squeezing you.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

It was the morning of the fashion show, and Bucky once again found himself panicking and not knowing what to wear. But this time he couldn’t send a ‘SOS’ to you because you were at work doing last minute touches on the show.

He turned around from his closet only to be greeted by Sam and Steve, “Jesus Christ,” he put a hand over his heart, “Do you knock?”

“No,” Steve responded as Sam dangled the spare key Bucky hid outside.

“Fuck both of you,” he grumbled.

“Listen, your girlfriend sent us because she knew you would have a heart attack picking out an outfit, and she also sent us tickets,” Steve said.

“And I’m gonna make sure my baby boy is dressed real nice,” Sam said, “Now move and let uncle Sam work his magic,” Sam continued before going into Bucky’s closet.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

It was 4:30, Sam, Steve and Bucky were standing in the venue sipping champagne whilst waiting for the hall to open for seating. Looking around, Bucky felt so out of place, “You look good Buck,” Steve noticed and reassured him.

“Of course Buck looks good, my man looks good all the time,” Sam said.

“Your man? I’m convinced he’s mine,” he heard a familiar voice from behind him. He turned around and had the air knocked out of him.

There you were, in a long sleeved black sequined shirt, that was tucked into your black shorts, and a pair of knee high heels. Even though it was simple, you were the only person who stood out in the room.

“Sam may be wrong about that, I’m only yours,” he said wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him.

“Sorry Sam, I won this round,” you joked.

“I got the two of you together and now you’re the sole owner for him? I call bullshit,” Sam retaliated.

“Okay fine, you get him Monday to Friday, and I get him weekends,” you negotiated.

“Now you’re talking.” Sam responded.

You heard someone call out your name, knowing you had to be pulled backstage yet again. “I gotta go, I’ll see you after?” You asked.

“Of course,” he said, before you pecked his lips and disappeared to where Carol called you.

“Tinman got some game,” Tony said coming up to the group.

“I didn’t know you were invited,” Steve said.

“I’m always invited to these things Cap, and lucky for you I am sitting next to you guys,” Tony responded, stealing Bucky’s champagne.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Bucky didn’t realize what was happening until Sam nudged his ribcage, “All of those look like things you would wear.”

And yes it was. There were henley’s, t-shirts, sweaters, jeans, sweatpants, hell they were in colours he would wear too, black, red, navy blue, military green, etc. It looked like someone took Bucky’s entire closet and remade all of his clothes and put it on display for him to see.

He also realized there were models of different sizes, some with prosthetics, and he felt his heart swell. He knew you managed to convince everyone there to do this. He never thought you would do it on such a grand scale of doing it at a fashion show.

For the remainder of the show, he sat there with the biggest smile on his face and it didn’t even falter, not even once.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Bucky waited for you to finish up before taking you out for milkshakes and a walk in the park. Since it was colder than when you left this morning, he draped his suit jacket on you, and held your hand. You were sipping on your milkshake before Bucky asked, “Did you put together the entire show for me?”

“What gave it away? The fact I literally stole your closet to do this? Or the fact it’s called ‘For B.’?” You asked.

He nearly choked on his milkshake, “You named it what?”

You stopped and looked him in the eye, “‘For B.’ because it’s for Bucky. I know you always talk about how you aren’t as pretty as models, which is a complete lie might I add and they don’t wear what you wear. So I thought, why not make it for you. I’m sorry if you don’t li-”

You were cut off by Bucky engulfing you into his arms, “Doll, no one has ever done that for me.”

“I love you Buck,” you said looking up at him.

“I love you more doll,” he said, kissing you.

[rocksandrobots]

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 41 - Finale (Pt. 3)

Abigail was gone.

Not again. No. No. Not again! Judy thought to herself.

She's already lost Abigail once; she wasn't going to lose her again. She watched helplessly from the balcony's railing scanning the sky line where her girlfriend and the ninja disappeared. She had to get her back! But what on earth was going to do? Jump out of a twenty story window?

Her boss, Krei called again, unaware of what had just happened. Instead of answering Judy almost threw the phone out into the street in frustration, but paused mid-action.

Wait! Krei! Big Hero Six!  

She had the supers on speed dial because of her boss. Heaving shaky breaths she called the number.

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

The gang of teenage superheroes were huddled on top of a skyscraper. They watched from above as Mr. Sparkles was arrested for his previous attack on the city. All, but Baymax, who scanned the skyline looking for Professor Callahan's bio readings.

"Well what next?" Gogo asked.

Hiro was about to answer but he was interrupted by his cell phone ringing. It was a very sacred Judy on the other end and she was crying and rambling.

"Judy, Judy, just calm down, take deep breaths." Hiro soothed. "Now what do you mean she's gone?"

Hiro pressed the speaker button and Judy's voice rang out.

"This ninja broke into our apartment and carried Abigail away. He was dressed head to toe in black, and you couldn't see his face behind his mask. He also had, like, super strength and he just jumped from building to building as if he wasn't even human."

"Robot ninjas" Fred gasped.

"Judy, I need you to listen to me. Hang up and call the police, tell them everything you know. I'm going to send one of us over your way to investigate and we'll be there soon. Okay?" Hiro told her.

Judy agreed and the call ended.

"Sparkles called his little escapade a 'distraction';" Wasabi said, "You don't think…"

"Oooh, that would totally make sense!" Fred jumped in. "This Bosu ordered Sirque and Sparkles to create a disaster to lure us away from Abigail's apartment."

"But how would they have known we were ever there?" Varian asked.

The answer became obvious to everyone at once, but only Honey Lemon gave voice to their fears. "

Unless, they're watching us." She shivered.

"I have found Professor Callaghan." Baymax stated calmly, interrupting their conversation.

"Where?" Hiro breathlessly asked.

"He is quite far away. Just on the outskirts of the city. He's nearly out of range of my sensors." Baymax replied and pointed his finger in a southeastern direction, though none of them could see what the robot saw.

"What about Abigail?" Varian asked.

"Scanning for Abigail." Baymax said and switched his programming over to look for the professor's daughter. A minute or two passed and then the android said, "There are no signs of Abigail."

"Hmmm...it looks like they're hiding Abigail elsewhere." Hiro contemplated. "They may have taken her in the opposite direction for all we know."

"So what do we do?" Gogo asked him.

Hiro found everyone staring at him waiting for orders, and not for the first time he wondered how he wound up being the leader of their little group. He was just flying by the seat of his pants most of the time. He didn't know anymore than they did. Still he had to come up with something.

"I think… I think we're going to have to split up again. Fred and Gogo, you two head to Judy's apartment and see what you can find out."

"Here are the directions;" Baymax helpfully offered, "Sending them to your phones, now."  

"Right," Hiro continued, "also if the police are there, just cooperate with them if you can or stay out the way until they leave if you can't. Honey Lemon, I'm tasking you and Wasabi with continuing the search down by the docks. Call Globby and Carl and let them know what's going on. Baymax and I will check out the energy readings he just found. If we find anything we'll let you know and if not we'll join you in the hunt later."

Hiro was just about to climb on Baymax's back when Varian stopped him.

"Hey wait a minute. You're not going by yourself."

"Look, it's fine. I know you don't like doing the whole superhero thing. You can wait at the Lucky Cat for us, if you want."

"Yeah, well what if I don't want to." Varian challenged.  

Hiro rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and how are you going to defend yourself if Supersonic Sue is there?" Since when was Varian the cautious, overprotective one?

Varian only screwed up his face in determination. "Honey Lemon, got any more chimballs I could borrow?"

"Oh, sure." She timidly said as she unbuckled the strap of her chim-purse and handed the belt with the chemical orbs on it to him.

He strapped it on him, like a hardness so the balls were in easy reach, while Honey Lemon used a smaller handle on the top of the purse to hold her weapon.

Hiro eyed the other boy coolly. He didn't appreciate not being trusted to handle things himself, especially when Varian was no less of a disaster, but the goggle headed teen ignored his disapproval.

"So are we ready to go or what?" He asked, as if hadn't been the one to grind everything to halt by protesting earlier.

Hiro gave up. They really couldn't afford to waste time arguing. He boarded Baymax's back and Varian climbed up after him. Then everyone else left, as the three took to the sky.

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

The place Baymax took them to was a train depot. There were various rail lines with dusty boxcars sitting both on and beside them, a tall crane for loading and unloading cargo was stationed near the tracks, and an old warehouse stood in the middle of it all. It's windows were boarded up to indicate it's lack of use and large cobwebs hung from the porch railings. It was the perfect place for a hideout really.

Hiro directed Baymax to land on the roof of the building. He didn't want the villains to spot them coming in and get the drop on them. From there, they climbed down the fire escape and entered through one of the boarded up windows.

Or rather, they entered through the hole in the wall that Varian made where the window once stood. He had found Honey Lemon's labeling system on her utility belt and by combining two of the chemical orbs together he created some sort of acid that quickly and silently ate away at the wall, wooden boards, window, everything, like magic, leaving a hole big enough for even Baymax to slip through.

Hiro had to admit he was impressed as he snuck inside, but there was no time for compliments. As soon as they were in, he ran to one corner of the hallway to make sure no one had seen them come in. He ordered Varian to keep lookout on the other end.

"Callaghan is down the hall, towards the front of the building." The robot helpfully pointed out.

Hiro put a finger to his lips indicating that to the robotic nurse to lower his volume.

"Ok this way." He whispered as he motioned for his small team to follow him.

They made their way down the winding hallways with Hiro taking the lead and Varian bringing up the rear; chimball in hand just in case anybody tried to sneak up on them.

They made it to the other end of the building without incident and found Professor Callaghan tied to a chair, sitting in a dusty office.

"H-hiro?" The former villain rasped when he spotted the armored boy and his pet robot.

"Shh.. We come to get you out of here." Hiro whispered as he went to untie Callaghan.

"Hiro, you shouldn't have come here." Callaghan bemoaned.

"Well too late for that. Let's go." Hiro said. "Is the coast still clear?"

"It is on my end- wait no, some tall guy is coming this way." Varian said.

"Must be Sue's grandson." Hiro replied. "Uh.. Let's try the other way out."

"Who's this?" Callaghan asked.

"A friend. Now let's try looping around." And with that Hiro took off once more while his ragtag team followed.

He paused though, when he saw Sue sitting in another office at the other end. Through the window  he saw her with her feet propped up on the desk and a magazine in her hand.

"Varian, got anymore of that acid?" He asked.

"No, I think ice bombs are all that's left." Varian answered.

Hiro spied the top of the stairwell. "Ok, everybody downstairs then. We'll just go out the front door."

Everyone hurried out the hallway and down the staircase while Hiro stood watch. Once the last of them had gone, he turned and followed; not noticing Sue peering at them over the top of her magazine.

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

They made it all the way down to the first floor and were almost out the door when suddenly Supersonic Sue stood in front of them, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

"Leaving so soon?" She asked. "See that Stu, they were planning on taking off without even saying goodbye."

"That's not very friendly of them, is it nana?" Stu replied as he skated up behind them. They were surrounded.

Everyone went into a defensive stance, waiting to see who'd make the first move.

"Why don't you whippersnappers just give up now, and no one gets hurt?" Sue said with a wicked smile.

"Nothin' doin'" Varian shot back.

With a nod to her grandson, both speedsters started to rev up their skates. Suddenly a yellow blur was hurtling at them at high speed where Stu once stood. Everyone scattered.

Varian threw one of his chimballs down as he ran and a slick sheet of ice formed on the ground. Stu became unbalanced as he started to slide out of control and Sue had to dodge out of the way quickly.

Seeing an opening, Hiro shouted, "Baymax! The door!"

The robot shot his rocket booster at the larger double doors that stood at the end of the hanger. They shattered on impact, leaving an opening for their escape.

Hiro ran to the android, signaling his group to follow.

"Oh no you don't!" Sue yelled.

Before Hiro could reach his friend, Sue appeared next to Baymax; who suddenly, for some reason remained very still.

"Now what do you suppose this is?" Sue asked as she held Baymax's chip in her hand.

Hiro froze in horror, but Varian tried to throw another chimball at the woman while her back was turned. He got tackled by Stu before he could get his shot in.

Sue skated away to safety and held the chip aloft once more. "Turn yourselves in or I'll smash this."

Hiro pulled out his shuriken to knock the item out of her hand but was too slow.

Sue reappeared over in the opposite far corner. "Wrong answer." She said and stomped on the chip breaking it into pieces.

"Nooo!" Hiro shouted, only for Sue to suddenly appear next to him.

"Does your mama know you're playing with sharp objects boy?" She asked and next thing Hiro knew his utility belt had been removed. He turned to look for it and saw Sue standing in yet another corner of the large warehouse with the belt slung over her shoulder.

"Looking for this?" She taunted.

He tried to use his electromagnetic whips to pull down a stack of boxes on top of her, but she once more skated out of the way. He then found his gloves being pulled off in quick succession.

Now unarmed, and one man down, Hiro desperately looked around for Varian. But the other teen had been similarly disarmed in his tussle with Sue's grandson. Though that didn't seem to discourage the time displace teen who continued to fight the larger guy.

He jumped Stu and they both went rolling around on the ground.

"Ouch! Nana, he won't stop hitting me!" The bigger teen whined.

Sue rolled her eyes and went to break up the fight.

Using this as a distraction, Hiro tried to call for help over his intercom.

It didn't work.

Sue overheard him and snatched his helmet right off his head.

Hiro backed away quickly from the woman as she stalked towards him. Things had gotten completely out of control.

"Stu, once you're finished roughhousing with your new friend over there, make sure he doesn't have any communication devices on him."

"Like this one Nana?" Stu said as he fished Varian's cell phone out of his pocket. He was rewarded with a bop on the nose for his trouble.

"Ow! Hey, watch it little dude!" Stu said as he cupped his nose and the cell phone fell to the ground next to the blue folder that had also fallen out of Varian's coat pocket.

"Exactly, Buttercup." She replied, and then next thing Hiro knew she had his own cell phone in her hand. It was as if she'd hardly moved at all. He had blinked, once, saw a blur run past, blinked again and found his pocket had been picked.

She held the phone up mockingly, "Ready to give up yet?"

Then suddenly Callaghan got the drop on her from behind. He wrestled the older woman to the ground as he tried to rip the phone out of her hands.

"Hiro run!" He yelled.

"Not without Varian!" Hiro shot back as he watched the other teen struggle to get out of Stu's grip.

"I'll help you Nana!" Stu called out.

Sue stopped him. "No, I got it. You grab the other two and put them someplace safe till we get time to deal with them. I'll take care of our dear professor here." And with a grunt she kicked Callaghan off her.

Hiro ran to help the man, only for a strong arm to grip his sleeve and practically lift him off the ground. He looked beside him and saw Varian also caught in the same grip, though that didn't stop the other boy from trying to kick Stu in the shins.

"Here ya, ow!, go nana. Ouch! Oh and I found this on him too. Hey, stop that!" Stu handed over Varian's cell phone and chimballs to his grandmother, along with the notebook.

"Hey, my notes!" Callaghan shouted and ran to grab them out of Sue's hands. "Where did you get those?!"

Sue kicked him back down. "Well, don't look at me. You're the one who dragged literal kids into your affairs."

"We're not kids!" Varian shouted.

Sue gave him a reproachful look, as if she felt sorry for them. "Sure you aren't,  honey." Then she turned to her grandson and said, "Well go on, and do what I told ya, quick. We gotta move Callaghan to a new hideout before the rest of those do-gooders come looking for them."

"On it!" Stu saluted before dragging them away.

In a blink of an eye, Hiro saw Sue grab some rope and begin to tie Callaghan up again as Stu pulled them along.

The big galoot ignored both boy's attempts to squirm out of his grasp as he tried to think of a place to put them. "Someplace safe…" He muttered to himself before spotting a large wooden shipping crate over on the far end of the warehouse. "That's it!"

"This should be plenty safe for you two until someone can come pick you up!" Stu said cheerfully as he opened the crate and dropped them inside. "Oh and here's some snacks in case you get hungry in the meantime."

He threw a couple of candy bars down to them. "I always like to carry extra with me. Super skating burns a lot of calories, you know."

Hiro looked up at the villain in confusion. He would have assumed the taller guy was taunting them, but no, he seemed to genuinely care about their comfort; not realizing that being locked in a giant box was perhaps not the best thing for anyone's health.

"Stu! Time to go!" They heard Sue shout.

"Coming nana!" Stu replied and then turned to them once more. "Okay gotta go now. Bye. Nice meeting you."

And with that he closed the lid, which locked into place, leaving them in darkness.

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

Soulmate September - Day 16

Day 16 - When your soulmate listens to music or is singing, you hear it in your own head as well. (Songfic, Crazy = Genius by PATD)

Pairing(s): Romantic Intrulogical, Ambiguous/Romantic Analomus, Background Roceit [the Janus part is ambiguous but whatever], Familial Logicality, Familial Virremile, Background Remile [again hinted]

TWs: swearing, sexual themes [light but they’re there], makeouts, Remus being Remus, drunken behaviour, pyromania, vomiting [not graphic just mentioned]

–

“Either of you pyros got a lighter I can borrow?”

Logan sighed, not making much in the way of eye contact with the emo sitting in the cell next to him and his soulmate. He dug into his jean pocket and lazily tossed the lighter to the boy clad in so much black and purple he looked like the sapient embodiment of a bruise.

“Keep it.”

“Oh. You sure? This is a pretty sweet lighter-”

“I insist.”, Logan groaned, running his hands down his face, “It’s not like I’ll be needing it ever again after this.”

From beside Logan, Remus slung his arm to the side, flopping it about limply to swat at his soulmate, “Shuddafuckup”, he slurred, hauling himself upright from his slumped over position, “S’gonna be fiiiine. Roman said he’d bail us oooouuuut, so fuckin’ chill-”

“Your brother told you last week that he would give us a ride to Dairy Queen but instead he was too fucking busy getting to third base with his boyfriend!!”, Logan snapped. Ugh, he would regret that in the morning. He ran his hands through his hair anxiously slicking it back. How had the night gone wrong so fast?...

-

‘You can set yourself on fire! You can set yourself on fire!’

Logan wasn’t sure what it was about the glowing ember embrace of a flame that drew him in toward it like a moth with a death wish, but as he allowed his soulmate Remus to haul his ass towards their usual hangout with the promise of some pretty choice items to burn, he found that he couldn't care less.

As he approached the overpass with his soulmate chugging a whole half a bottle of tequila without blinking, Logan wondered how he ever survived before without this whirlwind in human form.

‘She said at night in my dreams

You dance on a tightrope of weird

Oh but when I wake up you're so normal that you just disappear

You're so straight like commuters with briefcases towing the line

There's no residue of a torturer inside your of eyes’

“Check it the fuck out, babe! Did I bring the goods or what?”, Remus grinned nearly as brightly as the shine on the rather expensive looking crimson car - he guessed it might have been a Mercedes, but car brands all looked the same to him really - parked under the overpass. Logan didn’t have a particular favourite item to burn, but when Remus walked over in his lime green hoodie that barely covered his black leather shorts and fishnets to pose seductively on top of the hood? Logan hadn’t wanted to incinerate anything more in his life.

“You… How on Earth did you come by this?!”, he ran his hand along the curve of the hood, unashamedly letting his hand roam over Remus’ thigh. 

His soulmate hummed, leaning in to steal a kiss, murmuring softly against Logan’s lips, “If I told you I might’ve hotwired it just this afternoon? Is that a turn off or a turn on?”

Goddamn him, Remus knew just how to speak right to Logan’s soul.

“The latter, and you know it.”, Logan all but growled into their kiss.

‘She said you're just like Mike

Love but you wanna be Brian Wilson, Brian Wilson

Said you're just like Mike

Love but you'll never be Brian Wilson’

In the back of his mind, Logan did wonder what his father and morally conscious little brother would think; if they knew he snuck out to satisfy his pyromania, make out with his feral cryptid of a boyfriend, and engaged in petty acts of vandalism and thievery from time to time. What would Thomas and Patton think of their stoic, orderly son and big brother who - instead of studying for his undergraduate degree in astrophysics - would rather spend the night getting dangerous and dirty alongside his soulmate who had literally just admitted to auto theft  to acquire a ridiculously expensive car for him to burn?

The thought was there for all of two seconds until Remus’ tongue licking into his mouth banished it away. The only thot he needed tonight was the one driving him crazy with a kiss alone.

‘And I said (hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius (hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius

Then I'm a fucking arsonist (hey)

I'm a rocket scientist (hey hey)

(Hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius (hey)

You can set yourself on fire (hey ay)

But you're never gonna burn, burn, burn (hey ay)

You can set yourself on fire (hey ay)

But you're never gonna learn, learn, learn hey!’

Knowing they came here for a reason, Logan reluctantly ended their makeout session and grabbed for his trusted blue lighter.

“How full is the gas tank?”, Logan made sure to ask, popping open the door to the driver’s side to see what was left in the car. Might as well keep anything worth selling.

“Not sure.”, Remus shrugged, twirling the keys around his finger excitedly while he finished off their first bottle of the night, “Wanna help me make sure there’s nothing left?”

‘She said darlin' you know

How the wine plays tricks on my tongue

But you don't seem to change when you stuff all of

your feelings with drugs

Other boys you may have dated serrated your heart with a slice

But the cut of your love never hurts baby, it's a sweet butter knife’

Logan wasn’t sure how Remus managed to look even more majestic every time he looked at him, but as he clung tight to the hand rest above the passenger window while his soulmate pulled off his sixteenth donut in a row, all he could think about was how lucky he was to have him. Like a trickle of water turning into a river, Logan recognised the beginning of Na Na Na starting to play in his head. Of course. He knew Remus well enough by now to know that was coming. The humming under his soulmate’s breath also gave it away somewhat. 

While Remus kept trying to empty the tank, Logan couldn’t help but feel nostalgia for their first meeting; Remus’ older brother Roman had asked Logan to stand in for the theatre department’s regular dramaturge when Logan began to hear the beginnings of Avenue Q’s The Internet Is For Porn begin to invade his mind. Luckily for him, it hadn’t taken long for Remus to saunter over and try to flirt with him, humming the exact tune Logan had been hearing the whole time.

From there, they’d begun dating though it took a good few months before Logan would join Remus in his fantastical ramblings. He lamented on how he felt trapped by a father who meant well but expected so much from him, how stifled he felt having to be a role model to his living marshmallow of a little brother. How Logan just wanted the fun, exhilaration of doing something extreme for a change.

With Remus’ encouragement, Logan opened up about his pyromaniac tendencies which his soulmate was 110% onboard with. Ever since, the underpass had become their dirty, out of the way, graffiti scarred home away from home. Where Logan could indulge the urge to burn away his stresses and lose himself in Remus’ mantra of doing whatever the fuck they wanted.

‘She said you're just like Mike

Love but you wanna be Brian Wilson, Brian Wilson

Said you're just like Mike

Love but you'll never be Dennis Wilson’

With the car finally seemingly out of gas as it shuddered to a stop, Remus fluidly slid out of the open window - you know, like a normal functional human being - and slid across the hood of the car to open the door for Logan, “Alright, time for this bitch to burn!”

Logan was more than happy to get down to the main event after doing a last quick sweep of the car. All he’d found worth keeping was the planet shaped air freshener; so sue him, the sweet scent of mixed berries was delightful. Whipping out his lighter, Logan escorted Remus a safe distance away and pulled out the hairspray he’d swiped from his room earlier. He aimed the spray towards the car - making sure it wasn’t against the wind or pointed back at himself, he preferred to keep his eyebrows, thanks - and watched as the plume of fire engulfed the car’s seat cover. 

Crackling flames. Straining metal. Hissing fabric burning to a plastic like mess. It was a symphony and Logan was it’s conductor.

With his boyfriend wrapping his arms around his shoulders, Logan tilted to kiss him once more as the heat of the fire caressed their skin. Remus’ eyes never once left Logan, seeing his soulmate delight in an act of pure mindless vandalism, watching the way Logan looked truly free, sent his heart racing. In compliment, Logan turned back to Remus, grinning already at the shades of orange and yellow that painted his handsome features. He always thought Remus was at his most beautiful that way.

‘And I said (hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius (hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius

Then I'm a fucking arsonist (hey)

I'm a rocket scientist (hey hey)

(Hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius (hey)

You can set yourself on fire (hey ay)

But you're never gonna burn, burn, burn (hey ay)

You can set yourself on fire (hey ay)

But you're never gonna learn, learn, learn hey!’

Logan couldn’t tell you what happened next; one minute the two of them were watching the flames while his soulmate continued his campaign to destroy his kidneys with alcohol, the next Remus was sitting in his lap leaving hickeys all over his neck while Logan let his hands roam around under Remus’ hoodie. In the back of his mind, Logan could make out the beginning of a song he didn’t recognise at first, but as the lyrics kicked in, he let out a breathy chuckle. Of course, trust Remus to pick a thematic piece of music for the night’s events. As the song got louder - and Remus marked him more needily - Logan found he rather liked the song. He’d have to ask Remus what it was called later.

‘You can set yourself on fire (hey)

You can set yourself on fire (hey)

You can set yourself on fire (hey)

You can set yourself on fire’

The next thing either of them knew, there was a vague clattering noise followed by a  thunderous metallic bang. Followed by another, then another. One after another for a total of seven times before it finally quieted down. No music, no bang, just the fire crackling away. Thoroughly shaken, Remus and Logan untangled themselves from each other, the former demanding all too loudly, “What the creme fresh fuck was that?!”

“I-! I have no idea-”, Logan began. There wasn’t anything that would’ve done that inside the car, he’d checked. However, as he rounded the car, giving the flames a wide berth, Logan noticed someone laying on the ground on the other side of the car; dressed in a dark, patchy hoodie and ripped jeans, a plume of purple dyed frizzy hair poking out from the hood. He looked like your run of the mill emo. For a second, Logan was worried he and Remus would have to dispose of a body, but fortunately the young man groaned and began to sit up. To his side, Logan winced at a metallic glint blinding his vision.

The spray can doing so had clearly rolled out of the bag full of other cans, all in different colours. At least now Logan could put a face to the rather beautiful graffiti that tattooed the underpass as well as what had exploded in the fire as he noted the burst open paint cans under the car.

“Are you alright? What the hell happened?”, Logan questioned firmly, though he knew the disoriented emo on the ground likely couldn’t answer right away. He assumed from the way the young man rubbed the back of his head that he’d taken a rather nasty fall. The anxious artist seemed to remember exactly where he was, eyes blown wide in fear, 

“Dude, get outta here quick-”

“There he is!”

Three officers rushed towards the two of them prompting the emo and Logan to make a break for it, being sure not to run into the inferno. Remus pretty quickly got the idea and joined the two of them. It seemed neither of the three of them knew exactly where they were trying to run to, but a silent, unspoken agreement saw them all heading for the same direction. Looking back on it, Logan wondered if parting ways and heading for his car with Remus could’ve at least seen them with a better chance of getting away. 

But hindsight is a bitch that wakes up seven hours late and didn’t even bother to bring Starbucks. 

‘And I said (hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius (hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius

Then I'm a fucking arsonist (hey)

I'm a rocket scientist (hey hey)

(Hey ay, ay)

If crazy equals genius (hey)’

Before long, all Logan could hear was his sneakers scraping the ground and his own breathing competing against his heartbeat to dominate his ears. The urge to stop and breathe was intense but it felt as though doing just that would send the world crashing down around them. 

Of course, prolonged exercise and a stomach full of alcohol wasn’t the best combination. 

“‘M gonna fuckin’ puke-!”, Remus huffed, trying to cover his mouth with his hand. 

“Just hold on, Remus, we’re-!”

Logan watched in horror as his soulmate stopped to empty his stomach, unintentionally doing so in a way that blocked off the hoodie clad young man trying his best to keep up.

“Ah sHIT-!”

He didn’t need to look back; the clattering of the satchel, the mutual yelps of surprise and pain, Logan kept running even as two of the officers apprehended his soulmate and the hooded lad. The guilt would catch up to Logan before the third officer did, or it would have if he didn’t mistime his turning around the next corner only to end up nearly getting run over. How poetic; from making out on a car hood to being cuffed against one. Had Remus not been busy insulting the officers’ mothers rather colourfully, Logan theorised he would’ve no doubt made some innuendo about it.

Exhausted from their chase and thoroughly cuffed, all Logan could do was let himself be loaded into the back of the cop car with Remus and the anxious emo.

‘You can set yourself on fire (hey ay)

But you're never gonna burn, burn, burn (hey ay)

You can set yourself on fire (hey ay)

But you're never gonna learn, learn, learn hey!’ 

-

“Mmm… Logan, can you-”, Remus burped a little too wetly for it not to make Logan feel as queasy as Remus looked, “Can you stroke my hair? Pleeeeeease?”

Sighing in that playful kind of annoyance only true love can allow, Logan did as asked. The night may wind up with him being harshly reprimanded by his father and possibly losing his come-and-go privileges, but at least for now he had Remus.

“...... I’m sorry.”, came the rough voice of the emo in the cell next to theirs, “You both wouldn’t be stuck here if it wasn’t for me.”

Remus just gave a dismissive grunt in reply while Logan assured their cell companion, “While you may have led the police to us, I doubt our proclivity for fiery vandalism would’ve kept going undetected forever.”, he looked the emo up and down, “Might I ask,...?”

“Virgil.”

“Virgil,”, Logan repeated, “Might I ask how you ended up stumbling across us?”

Virgil shrugged, “I’ve been painting the underpass for years. Pretty much everything down there’s something I’ve done.”. 

He chewed the inside of his cheek, “I had a shitty night so I came down to paint something when I walked in on you two getting all ‘friendly’,”, he airquoted, “So I went to go home but I got stopped by an officer and started panicking. So I just…. ran.”

His posture curled a little while he twirled Logan’s lighter between his fingers in a stimming action, “Then I realised I was way too fucking close to the fire and I blacked out.”, Virgil embarrassedly pulled his hood up, “Fire scares the shit outta me, always has. Next thing I knew, I woke up with you staring at me. You both know the rest.”

Logan nodded quietly. It really did fill in a few gaps, “I can’t blame you for not wanting to stick around. I do apologise that we inadvertently ruined your night.”

Virgil shrugged, “Eh, it’s alright, it’s just gonna suck having to have my dads bail me out again. Not that dad would mind but pops will probably gimme another lecture about ‘unhealthy coping habits’ again....”

At that, they sat for the most part in silence. Then that song began to trickle into Logan’s brain again. As nice as it had been in accompaniment to their antics before, Logan found it almost grating now. He sighed and gently nudged Remus, 

“Re-”

“Logan, babe,”, Remus groaned, beating him to the punch, “Can you fuckin’ give it a rest with the music? M’fuckin’ head hurts.”

“....But you’re the one who’s been thinking about that song, right!?”, Logan’s concern was obvious. Remus caught on as well.

“No!? I thought it was you!?”, he sloppily hauled himself onto Logan’s lap, pressing their foreheads together, “Issokay babe, I won’t let-”, he stifled a burp though it did nothing to save Logan from Remus’ drunken breath, “Won’t let fate change our soul bond! I’ll fuckin- I’ll whip out my brain surgery skills right here if I gotta-”

“Remus!”, Logan sternly held him back a little, “Calm down, let’s just try and think rationally, okay!?”

“.... Have you ever MET me, you stupid sexy science bitch?”, Remus cackled at the alliteration.

“Please be serious for once.”, Logan sighed, fixing his glasses in a self calming gesture, “Do you know the name of the song in your head?”

“Yeah, iss fuckin’ um...”, Remus clicked his fingers in thought, trying to place it, “S’fuckin Scream In The Club, or some shit who sings it...”

“..... You mean, Panic At The Disco?”, came Virgil’s voice from the neighbouring cell.

Remus pointed dramatically, “THATS THE BITCH!”. He put his fist to his chest to stifle another burp, instead taking a second to turn and spit out some of the awful taste on his tongue, “Fuckin’... the lyrics were like…. “You can set yourself-””

“- On fire?!”, Virgil finished, looking rather interested in the conversation now.

Logan nodded between the two of them, “Yes, that’s the same opening line I remember. Virgil, I take it you’re familiar with the song?”

“Well yeah, and I’ll do you one better. Uh,....”, he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I’ve had that song stuck in my head all night.”

Remus and Logan shared a look of shock. Could Virgil really be their soulmate? It would explain the times when they would hear music that didn’t seem to line up with each other’s tastes. Before Logan could propose a test, Remus was way ahead of him; he rolled his eyes as the music flooded into his skull. 

Virgil brightened up, “Ashnikko, huh? Good choice-”

“HOLY SHIT, LOGAN, WE GOT-! WE GOT ANOTHER ONE!!”, Remus screeched, wriggling excitedly in Logan’s lap, almost causing his boyfriend to drop him.

“Indeed.”, Logan sighed fondly as he tried to get Remus to sit back down on the bench instead of his lap, “So now you better call Roman and see if he can bail us ALL out..”

----------

... I know I won’t probably be able to catch up but hell with it, I love some of the prompt ideas, I’ll just stop tagging the blog if I run over at this point.

A big thanks to @accidental-sanders for the idea for this one, it was really fun to do.

@tsshipmonth2020

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

[thesunshinebunny]

Hey !!!! how've you been? I hope you are taking care of yourself. I would like to order the dorm leaders reacting to MC / Yuu listening to Yagami Yato

I post it again because tumblr ate it and it doesn't show it to the number of people who deserve it

I'm going to be honest, I've never heard a single YY audio in my life and I had to do homework for this request ... and let's say ... I liked it ... quite a bit ... her patreon is for drooling. Which pet name is your favorite? And witch one do you thing the dorm leader will give us? I bet my ass Leona will continue call us Hervibores, but in a suave tone.

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

Riddle

Oh My God. Imagine our queen's red face as he hear the moans coming from your headphones.

He saw your red cheeks and your inability to focus on the notes in front of you and thought you were having a fever.

"Hey! You're good? Your cheeks are completely red and your face is boiling ”

He put his forehead against yours, causing the headphones to drop to your shoulders and the moans and * applause * to be heard clearly.

“I… I… ICANEXPLAINPLEASELETMEEXPLAIN !!!! RIDDLE! ”

It is not that Riddle ran away… but he left the room with a quick step.

Poor thing, give him a few days, maybe a week, and then try to look at him in the eyes again with what little dignity you have left.

Those sounds may have been imprinted on his mind when trying to fall asleep at night, imagining indecent scenes with you.

Leona

Try to picture his angry face when he heard moans coming out of your headphones.

He had gotten up from his usual nap in the botanic garden and noticed that you were sleeping next to him, with your arms around his waist. He removed the headphones from your ears when he saw that they caused a bad posture to your head and a moan escaped at the right time.

For a millisecond he thought that moan had come from you, perhaps some risque dream or that you were waking up, but when he heard more and more moans and they were not coming out of your mouth, his mind went blank.

More moans and applause came from your headphones, getting louder and more lewd. Leona went feral and turned your headphones into sand.

He shook you in a very abrupt way, even imposing his deep voice to wake you up at once. When you did, Leona's angry emerald eyes were the first thing you saw.

“What the fuck is this bullshit!?!?”

Your face turned fifty shades of red and it was difficult for you to reason and put into words an explanation.

"You can have the real thing and you go and listen to this ... I think I have to teach you a lesson of who owns your moans, your hornyness"

He pinned you down and approached your ear "The only moans and grunts you have to hear are mine"

Azul

Would you believe me if I told you that Azul found out about these audios thanks to a blunder that he himself committed?

He wanted to try the new speaker the twins got, and he couldn't think of a better idea than to borrow your cell phone.

“Can I play music from your cell phone to try this new speaker, little inky?” "Sure! No problem, try any audio "

Well… with putting any audio you didn't mean the first one that appeared in your gallery, in large letters *YAGAMI YATO SAMMICH COMPILATION*

But poor Azul, he's too innocent to know what Sammich means… Well, he’s about to find out.

As he press play, applause and moans * from Hawks, my daddy bird, cof * came out of the speaker and reverberated throughout the room.

"TURNITDOWNTURNITDOWNTURNITDOWN !!"

Make a deal to never talk about this moment again for the rest of your days.

The problem here is ... that the twins were present, except that behind the front door ... and they didn't make any deals with you two. So… get ready for an ashamed Azul for the rest of the academic year.

Kalim

Another baby who we need to protect… because when he’s listened to this lewds souns coming out of your headphones, lets say that you broke him.

He ran through the corridors, trying to find you and when he saw you sitting in the library his smile widened, until it went from ear to ear.

"Hey! Whatcha doing? Studing? ” his outstanding voice reverberated through the walls, achieving a lot of "shhh" back. You took a headset out of your ear and replied with a sweet smile that you were just resting.

Kalim sat next to you, too close with the perverted audio playing, and unconsciously you fell back, hoping to get this sunbeam away from that audio.

But… actually, it had the opposite result. He gave you some wet puppy eyes and his pot was to melt. He got closer and again unconsciously you went back, and he got closer and closer, until your back touched the wall.

Being so close at last, his smile returned to his lips and in an almost invisible movement to your eyes, he raised his hand towards your headphones with the intention of hearing the same as you.

"Eh..wait Kalim ... hold on a sec"

And with a headset on his ear, his smile disappeared again. You wanted to die. You REALLY wanted to die.

Leaving aside his amazement, which lasted a few days, Kalim is not the one to judge you by your tastes. If you want to listen to those audios, that's good for him… but, he said, if it could be more pleasant to listen to them with him.

Vil

Honey… you really didn't give a shit where you were or with whom, and this was the case with Vil in the common room of his dorm.

There you were, reading a book, with the cell phone aside, without headphones and an asmr in the playlist. You knew what was about to happen and you were going to enjoy it.

Vil came through the door and hearing the soft sound of the music (which was about to change) sat next to you, giving you a light kiss on the forehead.

"What are you reading, potato?" "Ah, just a book that Trein recommended me to understand your history a little more." He gave you a little hum and took out his pocket mirror to retouch his makeup. A small moment of tranquility that Vil appreciated, he could live from these moments.

Until a deep voice suddenly sounded, cutting the quiet music.

If you paid too much attention, a small rustle of glass was heard from Vil's side.

"Potato ... what is that?" "What is what?"

You gave him a serious look, your eyes didn’t take off for a second of his, waiting for a response.

For the first time in history, Vil Schoenheit, our beautiful queen, was speechless.

Idia

Bold of you to assume that Idia has never listened to some similar audios before.

Obviously he didn’t listen to Yagami Yato, but surely some fanservice of some favorite characters from his video games.

Either way, his flame turned red when he heard the distinctive applause when you connected the computer audio to the video call.

Smoke everywhere. You could hear the fire alarm go off and Ortho's small, quick footsteps approaching Idia's room.

"Don’t enter, don’t enter, DO NOT ENTER !!!"

Meanwhile, you were trying to unlink the perverted audio from the video call.

When the situation calmed down thanks to Ortho, you decided to dedicate a visit to his bedroom.

“Do you want to listen to these audios one night with me?”

Call Ortho again, the room is on fire.

Malleus

Honestly, Malleus had absolutely no idea what was going on, much less what he was hearing.

To his innocent ears, he was only hearing loud applause and one person as if was complaining, or going through a terrible fever.

By your side, with the headphones tangled in the horns of our beloved fairy and a face like a tomato, you wanted the earth to swallow you. As much as the situation was a little "tangled" you knew that anywhere Malleus was, Lilia, Silver and Zebek would be close ... very close.

It was Lilia himself who untangled you from the headphones and a few plants in the botanic garden. And it was also himself who had the great decency to explain to Malleus what he was hearing.

Gotta get out of here faaaaaaaaaaaast.

Give Malleus time to process the new information… and maybe you could enlighten him a little more about these * audios * that you love to listen to so much.

[since0202]

Chapter 9: Recognition

It took all of Grace’s strength not to drive down to the rez once she and Bella got back to the truck. 

“What the hell was that?” Bella said surprised. Grace focused her eyes on the road. “Hey are you okay?” Bella was softer this time. 

“Are you and Jake dating?” 

“What?” Bella said, taken aback. 

Grace didn’t say anything and just kept her eyes focused on the road. That wasn’t the question she had meant to ask. She just couldn’t stop thinking about how hot Jacob’s skin was and how quickly she needed to get home to call Sam. Jerking the wheel, she pulled them off on the side of the road. Bella lurched forward to steady herself with the dashboard. 

“I need to borrow your phone.” Grace turned to Bella and held her hand out. 

“Okay.” Bella said, her voice drew up at the end in question, “Grace what is going on?” 

Bella handed her phone over and Grace punched in Sam’s number. 

It rang twice before he answered. “Hello?” 

“Sam. It’s Jake.” 

“Is he-” 

“Yes, he’s on his way back now. You might want to intercept.” 

“Was he hot to the touch?”

“Sam.” Grace pleaded. She was losing her composure a little bit. 

“Okay. We’ll get him, don’t worry.” He hung up. 

She handed the phone back to Bella and put a hand over her eyes to try and stop the tears. But it wasn’t any use, something in her collapsed and she curled her body over the steering wheel and let out an immense rush of sobs. Her back heaved as she gasped for breath and felt a breaking in her like one she’d only ever experienced once before. Bella hurriedly scooted over the bench seat of the truck and wrapped her arms around Grace. Bewildered, she stroked her cousin’s hair and tried to calm her down. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay Grace. He’ll come back.” Bella whispered into her hair. 

Grace knew he would come back, he would just come back different, changed. In her time spent training with Sam, Paul, and Jared she saw and heard the turmoil, pain, and confusion they put their bodies and minds through. While it ran through their blood, Sam had made it clear: this wasn’t a choice, it was a necessity. 

Paul had been less forthcoming about it. He had finally found a useful outlet for his anger, pushing it in the ground and howling it out around him in a chase of scrap. But in his quieter moments, when Grace would sit next to him after a particularly grueling day, he would wrap his arm around her shoulder and give her a small sad smile and say, “At least we’ve got us.” 

Jared was a light, joking and keeping Grace up on her feet. But some days when he showed up at Emily’s or they went to pick him up from home, he would look disappointed, his face would look redder than usual and he’d pull Grace or Emily into a tight, wordless hug before Sam commanded him to follow. To which he’d swallow hard and follow suit. 

And when Quil had recently phased, Sam did him the kindness of letting him choose when he could make it to trainings and when he could not. Mostly he could not--still focusing on school, figuring out his new form, and coming to grips with the fact that he was a protector of his family and tribe in ways he never knew before. Sam would pull him in for light rounds, not wanting to dip him in too far too fast like he had with Jared and Paul in his immense loneliness. 

But for all that pain came the joy of binding to one another. Grace could see how at home they felt together and around her. How safe and loved that their brotherhood kept them. She would protect that at all costs. 

But now that Jacob was a part of this, Grace knew something would fundamentally change, not just in him but in everyone. A part of her wished for the short time she had spent with him laughing and studying for school, and the moment he kissed her head on the doorstep like he’d done it his whole life. 

“Let me drive.” Bella said calmly, shifting Grace out of the way. The whole ride home, Grace rested her head on the cool glass of the window and resolved to go to the rez first thing tomorrow morning. 

----

When Grace woke early right as the first light was creeping over the horizon. She shimmied into some dark wash jeans, a black tank top and a large, loose green cable knit sweater. She shoved her socked feet into her boots and pulled her wavey tangled hair up into a loose ponytail. At the  bottom of the stairs, she layered her blue raincoat under her puffy black winter jacket. The fog was not yet clearing as she dashed out the door and into the truck with only one thought in her mind. 

Jacob.

The 15 minute drive to the reservation was excruciating. She vowed to buy a cell phone this weekend so she could stay in contact with the pack. As she crossed the line into the reservation, a shiver ran down her. She felt warmth flood into her feet and a tingling sensation started to bloom in the back of her head, signaling a change had happened. 

She pulled into the familiar drive of Emily and Sam’s place as the fog started to burn off. She jogged to the front door and knocked a handful of times before pressing it open and hurtling in. Emily was stumbling down the steps of her and Sam’s bedroom, clearly woken from sleep. 

“Is Sam here?” Grace, wired, asked. 

“No, he hasn’t been home yet, come sit, I’ll make us some coffee,” she yawned. 

“It’s Jacob,” Grace said again, echoing her sentiment from last night. Emily nodded nonchalant. 

“Sam said he might be phasing soon. He could feel it,” Emily was clattering in the kitchen like it was any other morning. 

“What? He knew?!” She had told Sam how rocked she had felt about the potential of him phasing and he could feel her tension when it came to conversations of Jake. The pack seemed invested in him for some reason. But he had never alluded to any feeling he had had about Jacob phasing soon in their recent trainings. Emily looked at Grace confused, and then realized she had spilled something that maybe she wasn’t at liberty to share. 

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon Grace, come sit.” Emily pleaded. But Grace was already out the door and down into the truck. She gunned it toward Jacob’s house knowing full well he probably wouldn’t be there. 

When she pulled up, her mind took her back to when a long-haired Jacob came jogging around the side of the house, happy to see her. But now, the yard was quiet and the area surrounding it seemed void of those memories. 

When she knocked on the door, trying to wait patiently for Billy to open the door, she couldn’t help her eyes from scanning the tree line. 

By now, Sam must have sensed she was here. If they were still in their wolf forms, which she suspected they were by the familiar pull in her belly, she knew that Sam would have felt her as soon as she crossed onto the reservation.

Billy swung open the door and wheeled over the threshold with a smile on his face. 

“Wasn’t expecting you to be here.” he said, pleased. 

“Did Jake come home last night?” Grace forgoed with the pleasantries. Her mind was a one-track record at the moment playing the same name over in her head: Jacob, Jacob, where is Jacob? 

“Nooooo,” Billy replied, still pleased. It irked Grace. Of course he’d be pleased. Jake was fulfilling a destiny that Billy hadn’t or ever needed to. She could see the pride swelling in him. 

“Okay.” Grace gave a curt nod and turned back to her truck, then thought better of it and turned toward the tree line. She should have done this first thing, but a small part in her was hoping against hope that he had returned, safe and sound, without phasing. 

“I’m sure he’s alright, Grace! Sam’s got him.” Billy called after her. She gave a terse wave and pushed into the embrace of the trees. When she walked deep enough that she couldn’t see the clearing of Jacob’s home behind her, she stopped and closed her eyes taking a deep breath. 

The earth beneath her feet felt mangled and overturned. She tried to tune into her higher sense, focused her breath on locating the familiar padding of Sam, Jared, or Paul through the forest floor. The forest intensified in sound around her as she went searching, eyes closed, feet planted. Directly in front of her, she could clearly see the outline, almost glow of Sam’s prints. Flanking close behind were Jared and Paul’s, less pronounced but definitely there. 

Grace took a tentative, physical step forward and when she looked down, she could see sprinkles of light spilling out around her feet. That’s new. 

She opened her eyes and travelled further into the forest, keeping her ears tuned in for any sign of them. As she got deeper, the brush and fern growing thick under foot, she stopped again to make sure she was headed in the right direction. This time when she closed her eyes, a bright path skirted forward from unfamiliar pads. However, though they were new to her, they were brighter than either Sam, Jared, or Paul’s. The track was illuminated as if by bright glowing light underneath and shimmered in a deep gold. She knew who this was without having to feel it. 

And then, a familiar sensation, a breaking apart and coming together that she had not initiated. It was a call. She recast and without even knowing where she was going, she appeared in a small clearing. When she opened her eyes, the human forms of Sam, Jared, Paul, and Quil stood off to the right and somewhat behind her. Her eyes locked on Sam, breathless for a moment and then she felt a gaze pulling her forward. 

When she looked ahead, standing clear and tall in the patch of moss and dirt was Jacob. His chest exposed, she saw every line of his skin and his sinewy muscles heaved with exhaustion. His hair was sheared short to match the rest of the pack, but his warmth and presence radiated out from him. He stood firmly on the ground, fists clenched, but though he was obviously new to this and had had a rough night, Grace felt nothing but pure resolute power, confidence, and surety pulsing from him. 

When their eyes locked, Grace couldn’t breathe for a moment. That rising rumbling that she had felt when she first encountered Edward crescendoed around her. Waves crashing against each other, pushing and pulling out to sea. 

A huge ripple puddled out from her feet and pulsed quickly out across the forest floor like a radar signal. Her return to Jake’s call. Behind her, she heard Jared exclaim “What the hell was that?!” 

Jacob was looking at her so fiercely with such wanton recognition. The pull in her belly intensified in a way she had never felt before. The world was around her but ended with Jacob. And she made a choice. She sprinted toward him and crashed into his arms. 

He let out a groaning “Oh,” as he wrapped his arms tightly around her as if something in him was satiated when she was pressed against him. Her head only came up to his shoulder and he bowed his head to bury his face in her hair. 

All too quickly, a realization swept through the both of them—I know this person and this person knows me, now and before and beyond. Two kindred spirits that had always been intertwined by destiny but had recently come back together. Grace had never felt such pleasure and sureness rippling through her entire being than she did right now. And as a welcomed confirmation, Jake whispered in her ear between heavy labored breaths: 

“It’s you.” 

[bbrandy2002]

The Getaway

Part Two

A/N: This is obviously a continuation of a birthday fic I wrote for @ao719 that is now 2 weeks late 🙈 I was dealing with stuff, dont judge lol The writers block and doubts were for real yo! But thanks to my Tumblr bestie, who wouldnt let me quit, encouraged me, talked me through this thing and gave me ideas, it finally all came together.

Anitah, I apologize for being so late and the silliness of this fic and if it's terrible. I still hope you had a wonderful birthday and are blessed with so many more 💜

A/N/N: Thanks to @burnsoslow for beta reading and literally a thousand other things.

Warning: A lot of bad language, a miserable Drake Walker and violence involving tasers, fires, animals and car accidents ... No one dies people!

**Drake and Liam belong to Pixelberry, Nikolas belongs to me, the driver and mailroom guy belong to @burnsoslow​ and Liam's secretary belongs to @ao719​

Drake stepped out of the truck in a furor, cursing under his breath, to check on his damages. The front driver tire had fallen into a deep ditch, and it was evident by the thick mud it sunk into that it would be next to impossible to get unstuck without some assistance.

He shook his head, gritted his teeth, and the veins in his neck enlarged and throbbed. As he knelt down to assess the damages further, Nik hopped out of the truck and stood over Drake. With one glance, Nikolas clutched his belly and let out a loud continuous cackle that soon sent a storm of hot blood that seemed to collect in Drake's crimson-colored face.

And the laughter just got louder and louder.

And the laughter didn't stop.

In Drake's head, it sounded like a thousand Niks laughing simultaneously, each one with two horns, a pointy tail, and a pitchfork in hand. 

His anxiety took over.

He stood up, and in an attempt to let some of his anger out, he kicked the tire with an enraged shout that echoed beyond the heavily-forested valley and sent flocks of birds in a frenzy.

The tire's air must have been over-pressurized by the drop's force and popped as soon as Drake's foot made contact. He fell back onto his ass with a heavy thud causing Nikolas to screech out in more laughter. Drake sat up into time to see the front bumper and side panel fall to the ground.

"I think your truck is broken, Uncle Drake," the prince chortled.

Drake's head whipped around and glared at the boy. "No shit! What the fuck are you even doing here? You're supposed to be on a plane to Paris."

Nikolas shrugged. "This sounded more fun." 

"This isn't fun, you little asshole!" Drake jumped up and attempted to lunge at the boy, but slipped in the mud, caught his balance for a split second by grabbing onto a tree limb, then slipped again, before wiping out completely. "Son-of-a-monkey-fucker!"

Drake laid on his back, staring up at a large tree branch that hung overhead, praying to God the damn thing would just fall on him. 

Nikolas walked over to him and looked down on the face of fury. "Is it time for dinner yet? I'm staaaaaaaving!"

"Nikolas," Drake groaned then took a deep breath, his back mud-soaked and achy. "How? How in the hell did you pull this off?"

Nik plopped down on Drake's stomach, causing him to grunt loudly. "Easy. I told my dad you invited me, and he let me go. He was happy you wanted to spend time with me." The Prince smirked.

Drake gritted his teeth. "And he just believed you? Fucking Liam."

Nikolas shook his head. "No. I got Neal in the mailroom to pretend he was you on the phone."

Drake lifted his head and glared. "You mean that grease trap that lives in the ambulance down by the river?"

The young prince nodded. "Yeah. Except he doesn't live by the river anymore. He moved behind the elementary school .. said it had a better view."

There was dead silence for a moment as Drake grimaced at what he just heard before jerking his hips upward. "Get the fuck off me."

Nikolas stumbled to the ground with an uproarious laugh.

Drake reached into his front pocket and pulled out his cell as he rose to his feet. He was dead set on getting someone from the palace to retrieve this little menace to Drake Walker society before he found himself tied up to a cinder block at the bottom of Lake Boogaloo. The issue with his truck could wait.

Liam and Riley would already be on the plane with Bastien in tow, so calling them right now would be useless. He pressed the contact for the palace operator, hoping to be directed to the mailroom; if Neal was part of helping get Nik into this, his shady punk ass could come pick him up in the renovated ambulance that served as his home and part-time blood mobile. 

Pacing back and forth, Drake raised the phone to his ear, waiting impatiently for a ring. 

"Trish! Put me through to the mailroom." 

While he was distracted taking care of that, Nikolas was somewhat disappointed the trip was already over -- he had so many plans for his favorite uncle. With his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips, he leaned up against the truck in a huff. "This sucks!"

The sounds of leaves crunching and brush moving around nearby caught his attention. Nik's eyes widened in fear when the black furry coat of a creature with a white stripe down its middle could be seen scampering around searching for food. The boy gasped and pinched his nose as the animal's foul scent started to become thick in the air and made his eyes water. "Uncle Drake," he called out in a nasally voice, "there's a skunk."

With a scowl, Drake lowered the phone and scrunched up his own nose. He took one glance at the animal, who didn't appear to be a threat, then glanced back at the kid. "It's probably more scared of your evil ass than you are of it. Just keep your mouth shut and don't move." The call with Neal resumed.

"But, Drake ..." Nikolas whined, trying to plead for him to listen but could tell his uncle would have none of it.

Frantic to scare the smelly animal away, the young boy searched the ground for something to throw at it: a large stick, a rock, Drake's Air Bud soundtrack. Those things might scare the skunk off, but they posed a risk of it spraying before doing so. Memories of the smell of Madeleine's office when he had one shipped to her came flooding back. It took a month for the palace to lose that scent. The prank was hilarious until it affected his comfort.

 A devilish smirk took shape as an idea popped into his head. “I need my backpack.”

Nik grabbed the top of the truck bed and stepped up on the rear tire and swung one leg over, then the other. He found his backpack and quickly unzipped it, pulling out night-vision goggles and a rope, then placed them beside his feet. He proceeded to move aside a bottle of industrial-strength super glue and the glass jar holding his tarantula, Barf. Finally, at the bottom of the bag, was the taser he “borrowed” from Bastien’s desk, and he quickly took it out. Holding the electrical gun in front of his face and twisting it around menacingly, he said, “Okay, Mr. Skunk. Get ready for a shocking experience.”

“No!” Drake yelled into the phone at Neal, “You can’t borrow my binoculars. What the fuck are you gonna use those things for at a children’s museum anyway?”

“The … the …” the man scrambled for an answer, “those dinosaurs … yeah … the dinosaurs. They’re, like, really tall, ya know? I want to be able … to, uh … see their faces and stuff.”

“I call bullshit,” Drake bit back, “I won’t be an accomplice in your bone watching … dinosaur or small boy.” He resumed his pacing, wanting to get the conversation moving along. “Now listen, my sister and brother-in-law are in Texas, Lord Beaumont is on a book tour, and the guards are off duty until the royal family returns. You are going to come pick up this kid.”

“Oh! I would love to come pick him up. He’s under 10, correct?”

Drake could practically hear the creepy mirth oozing from the man's gruff voice and spat back, "I'll be with him the whole time, you oily ass, ambulance-driving …  è piccola cagna!"

"What does that mean?"

Drake knitted his brows; he didn't really know, just that Nikolas called him that from time to time, and the word just kind of stuck with him. "Just ... just get here now!"

"Okay, okay! I'm coming."

The call ended. "God, I hope he meant that literally, and I didn't just get that fucko off." He slipped the phone into his pocket and turned to Nik. "Alright, listen up, assh ..." Drake stopped dead in his tracks and stood, stunned, at the first glimpse of a taser-wielding Nikolas with the gun aimed almost directly at him, with a tiny finger wrapped around the trigger.

"Wwwhatcha got there, boy?" Drake's voice sounded calm and friendly. He even managed to fake a genuine-looking smile. Inside, however, he was close to shitting his pants.

Nikolas licked his lips and closed one eye to find the perfect aim. "I'm about to fry that skunk with extreme vengeance. One ..."

"Nikolas, no! Give me the taser." Drake cautiously approached him with his hand held out.

"Two," the small but menacing voice continued the count.

"Nik, don't do it! Give it to me now!"

"Three.”

"Noooo!"

The piercing sound of Drake's shout startled the skunk, and it scurried out from the thick brush.

Nik jumped up with the taser. "Hey! Get back here, asshole." He aimed at the fleeing creature and pressed the trigger.

___________

The instant Drake's mocha-colored eyes fluttered open, an acrid mixture of what smelled like ass, sweat, rotten eggs, and his mother's hairy feet had bubbled up inside his nostrils. The aroma was slightly overshadowed by the 1200-volt prongs that had pierced just below the protruding vein in his neck, causing him to seize up and then drop like a rag doll to the dirt, and muck that littered the ground.

Close by, he could make out the discernible sound of footsteps crunching through foliage and bark and sloshing over wet earth.

Drake's cheek rested against the cold, soggy ground, even as the silhouette of the young prince crouched next to him with his little head tilted sideways and blinking owlishly. He saw the child's lips moving but blocked out the little shit until the feeling of electrocution and muscle spasms had waned.

Drake looked at the small face next to him that resembled his best friend at that age. Liam is a good man, Drake thought; he was a considerate child, too. We had fun together. We always had each other's backs and would do anything to protect the other, no matter the consequences.  Liam wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s just the best all around.  So …  how in the actual ass fuck did he produce the spawn of Satan? 

Is there any chance he’s ... Neal’s kid? 

Maybe Riley ... No, fuck, no. She wouldn’t.

The sky transformed from a brilliant blue to one streaked with gold and orange hues before Drake shook himself of the aftershocks that sparked through his body. 

The metal prongs left behind two bright red spots, resembling a large spider bite and stinging like hell when he pulled them out.  A thick layer of mud had dried and clung to his back, while a fresh layer adhered to his front. The numbness in his limbs had dissipated somewhat, but the pins-and-needles feeling remained. He was grateful the back spray from the skunk missed him, but the remnants it left on the nearby trees were stifling.

At this point, the only thing Drake wanted was a hot shower, a clean change of clothes, and to get stupidly drunk to the point he would pass out in bed and sleep for days. He scanned the perimeter and could make out the crystal-blue lake through a small clearing in the trees about 100 yards away.

Removing his filthy shirt and tossing it in the back of the truck, he eyed Nikolas, who was surprisingly quiet and subdued. The child was sitting on the lowered tailgate, swinging his legs, and trying to force his tarantula to eat a dead cricket. Drake rolled his eyes but was relieved the kid was staying out of his hair for now. He just needed to take a quick dip in the water, change his clothes, and hurry back in time for their ride home. Nik would be fine by himself for 10 minutes.

Drake let out a sharp tongue whistle that caught Nikolas' attention. "Listen up, kid. I'm going down to the lake real quick to clean up and change into some clean clothes." He opened the driver's side door and reached across the seat to toss his cell phone and wallet in the glove box while he continued, "You and your spider get in here and lock the door until I come back."

Nik dropped Barf in the jar and slapped the holed lid on it. "It's not a spider, Drake. It's a tarantula. A tarantula," he corrected with emphasis as he slid down from the tailgate.

"I don't care if it's your grandma's bladder control protection, get your ass in the truck, and don't move until I get back."

Stepping up in front of Drake, Nikolas sneered at an annoyed Drake towering above him. "I'm telling her you said that. And why can't I go with you? I wanna go to the lake, too," he whined.

Drake nearly doubled over in fake laughter. "There ain't no damn way I'm taking you. For one, you've ruined my entire trip. The one good thing I had in my life to look forward to, and you ruined it! And two, I don't know what the rules are about grownups, and nakedness, and with kids around, and all that shit. So the answer is no." 

Drake could tell by the beady little eyes glaring back at him that Nikolas would not give up on this. He let out a heavy sigh. "Look. Do what I tell you right now, and when I come back, I'll build a campfire, and we can make up some s’mores. How's that sound?"

“Okay.”

“Really?” Drake shook his head in astonishment that he actually won that argument. Without another word, he watched as His Royal Highness happily climbed into the cab of the truck and gave a thumbs up.

Did that taser kill me? I’m dead, right? He did it. Do you smell that, Cordonia? No, not that fucking rank ass skunk. It’s the smell of victory! Drake Walker is a god! I have the power back.

Grabbing his duffle bag from the back, Drake hurriedly made his way toward the lake. He felt a little on edge, leaving Nik by himself for even just ten minutes, maybe even somewhat guilty. But he was caked in mud from head to toe, and the grime was starting to seep and burrow around certain parts of his anatomy. Nothing was worse than having monkey ass.

Within minutes, Nikolas sat on his haunches and looked out the back glass. He hadn’t wanted to show it, but he did feel a little bad for shooting Drake to the point it drew blood. Also for causing him to crash his truck. And even though it was funny as hell to watch, the second slip in the mud was kind of brutal. Perhaps a little remorse was starting to set in as the words of his Uncle Drake telling him that he ruined the one thing he was looking forward to repeated in his head. Tomorrow he would return to normal, but Nik was determined to do something nice for a change for the rest of the evening.

With the quick snap of his little fingers, an idea formed, and it would be the perfect thing to make Drake feel better. Nik unlocked the door, grabbed his spider, and jumped out of the truck. He headed to the back and rummaged through the bags of camping items laid in piles until he found what he was looking for: a lighter and lighter fluid.

“I’ll make the bestest s'mores ever for Uncle Drake. That’ll make him happy.”

Nikolas had never built a campfire before, but he’d seen it done in a movie once, and that was good enough in his mind to practically make him an expert.

Feeling clean and refreshed, Drake dried off from his dip in the lake and put fresh clothes on. Making his way back to the site, he caught a glimpse of thick, black smoke protruding above the trees and the smell of burning rubber that traveled with the approaching evening breeze.

“Nikolas,” he muttered as his heart crashed into his stomach. He raced back as fast as he could, fearing the absolute worst thing had happened to the Prince of Cordonia. “I knew I shouldn’t have left him alone. Liam and Riley are going to kill me, and I would deserve it. I just hope he’s not …” he trailed off when the site came into full view. It was worse than he imagined.

His eyes searched frantically until relief washed over him when he caught his first glimpse of Nikolas sitting under a tree, eating, and seemingly unconcerned by the inferno that had lit up the dusky sky.

Drake rushed over to him and lifted him into his arms and held onto him tightly.  “Are you okay, buddy?”  

Nikolas chuckled, “I’m fine, Uncle Drake.”

He lowered him back on the ground and started patting him down, looking for burns or injuries. 

Drake let out a sigh of relief. “How? How did this …” he turned to look at the fire, then raised his voice. “Wait! You caught my goddamn truck on fire?”

Nik followed his uncle's gaped-mouth stare to the truck engulfed in flames, then screwed up his face. "Yeah ... about that. I think I used too much of that lighter fluid stuff building a campfire. But I made you something." He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a s'more, licked the melted chocolate off the side, then proudly held it up to Drake. "The marshmallow is exactly the way you like it, too: completely charred."

Drake dropped his head into his palms and repeated a slew of curse words and sounds that were not even human. As badly as he wanted to destroy everything around him at that moment, to release a fit of anger the likes of which no one had ever seen in him before, it appeared Nikolas had beat him to it: There was nothing left around there to destroy. 

He dropped his arms to his sides in defeat and looked to the heavens before surmising, “This is my punishment, isn’t it? I stole that taser from the guard as a kid and let Liam take the blame for it. I insisted Liam come with me in that boat during a storm, and he nearly drowned when it overturned. He got lost in the woods on my time. I pushed him too hard once during maze tag. I got stuck in that laundry chute all night, and Constantine took hide-and-seek away from him. This …” he motioned to Nikolas, who was smiling back at him with a big cheesy grin, “this is how he got me back for all of it. Well, you win, Liam! You win!  I hope you are having one hell of a time in Paris, schmoozing and laughing your ass off, because I have nothing left in this world but this …  hairy, lint-filled s’more with your son’s saliva all over it …  and it’s not even toasted right!”

“I didn’t make it right?” Nikolas asked thoughtfully. “Hang on. I can make you another one.” He bent down, pulled out a marshmallow from the bag and rammed a mud-covered stick entirely through its center. Drake watched as Nik skipped over and held it next to the flames shooting out the window of his truck.

For several seconds, Drake contemplated whether he should just leave the child there and let nature take its course. Glaring back to the star-filled sky, he groaned, “You owe me big for this.”

Tugging Nik by his jacket hood to pull him away from the hot blaze, he startled the boy who then whipped around with the burning marshmallow and accidentally got it stuck to Drake’s shirt. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

Ten minutes passed, and the two were on the dirt road heading back to the highway’s main stretch. After patting out the fire on his shirt, Drake planned to call the fire department to report the inferno taking place in the woods. He laughed wryly when he realized the phone was still in the glove box of his burning vehicle. And it appeared Neal’s skank ass wasn’t coming after all, so the pair would have to flag down someone and hope they actually stopped. Thankfully, Nikolas had his backpack on, and Drake used the night vision goggles to direct his way along the darkened path.

Hand in hand and approaching the main thoroughfare, Nik’s legs were starting to tire, and his droopy eyes looked up. “Uncle Drake, will you carry me?”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Pleeeeeeease,” Nikolas begged in a high-pitched squeal that grated Drake’s teeth.

Drake stopped with a huff and crouched down. “Get the fuck on my back,” he commanded, “you’ve burned and shot the front part of me, so your ass is gonna have to hold onto the back. And I swear to God, Nik, if you so much as drool on me, you can sleep in the woods with the wolves and bears and poodles. Understood?”

With a tired nod, Nik wrapped his little arms around Drake’s neck and held on. As they proceeded ahead, the prince asked, “Would you tell me a bedtime story?”

Drake grunted, “You wanna bedtime story? I’ll tell you a bedtime story. It’s an ol’ Bianca Walker original that she used to tell me every night called ‘Go the fuck to sleep!’ The end.”

Nikolas sleepily chuckled. “I already have that book, Uncle Drake. My dad’s secretary, Charlotte, gave it to me and told me to put it in my room. She said if my mom or dad found it, just to tell them you gave it to me.”

“Of course she did,” Drake scoffed, thinking about the other person who found pure delight in annoying him.

Through the night-vision goggles, the headlights of a random car could be seen driving by, and Drake let out a relieved breath, knowing they were so close.

The night couldn’t end that easily, though. A sudden sense of unease enveloped Drake, telling him that everything was not as it seemed. His steps quickened, and his heart pounded away in his chest.

Feeling like he was being followed, he turned on his heels, then widened his eyes. 

A large brown bear let out a roar that echoed past them.

Drake shrugged his shoulders and muttered, “Yep. That’s about right.”

The survival training he’d learned from his Campers Anonymous group about bear encounters kicked in, and he completely stilled his body. That was until he heard, “BEEEEAAAR!” screamed over his shoulder and felt Nik’s body drop to the ground.

“Don’t move, Nikolas,” Drake ordered through a whisper.

It was too late; he was gone and headed toward the road.

Drake whirled around to see the bear on its hind legs, drumming its chest and licking its lips. “Shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Wait for me, Nik!” He took off running.

--------- 

Alyssa was headed back to Cordonia earlier in the night than she expected. With her hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel, she complained to her friend through the car's Bluetooth, “The guy showed up one hour late to our meeting spot, then drove through a McDonalds, asked if I wanted anything, proceeded to park behind a church and tell me he has condoms before the cops picked him up on a warrant! Worst. Date. Ever.”

Driving around a bend in the road, Alyssa slammed on the brakes when her headlights reflected off a small child darting into the road. As her tires screeched, she let out a deafening scream when a man came out of nowhere, followed immediately by a bear. The frantic man shoved the kid out of the way.

Though  the brake pedal was pressed to the floor, the car collided with Drake, and his body flew onto the hood before falling feebly to the road.

The bear sniffed at Drake and batted him around a couple of times before taking off into the woods.

When Alyssa was sure it was safe to do so, she and a crying Nik both crouched around a moaning Drake.

_________

The following morning, Drake's eyes fluttered open. His vision was a little fuzzy, but he could make out a doctor hovering over him and a worried Liam standing with Nikolas at the foot of his bed. He tried to speak, wanting to know what happened, but was unable to open his mouth.

"Don't try to speak, Mr. Walker. Your jaw was wired shut to protect the small fracture you suffered from the car accident. You also broke both legs and sprained your neck. You have a long recovery ahead of you, but shouldn't need to spend any more time in the hospital. You’re a very lucky man. Now if you’ll excuse me, I will get the discharge papers and check to see if the ambulance transporting you to the palace has arrived. His Majesty has offered to allow you to recover in his home." 

Drake took one look at a gleeful, bouncing Nikolas and shook his head as best as he could with a neck brace on and emphatically mumbled his indiscernible objections.

Liam chuckled, "Quit being so modest, Drake. I assure you it’s no trouble at all. Besides, it's the least I could do after you saved my son's life. And Nik here even offered to let you stay in his room to keep you company."

Nik nodded with a grin. “Yep. For the next eight to 12 weeks, it's just me and my Uncle Drake hanging out all day and night.”

Drake tried to escape from his bed but couldn’t move without use of his legs.

Liam walked around to the side of the bed and put his hand on Drake’s shoulder. “Look at you trying to protest. You never were one to accept charity. I told you, I’m more than happy to help. You deserve this and more.”

A knock at the door diverted their attention and a head popped in. “I’m here to transport Mr. Walker back to the palace, Your Majesty.”

“Perfect! And on such short notice too. So glad my secretary could arrange this ride,” Liam exclaimed. He glanced down at his injured friend in the bed and smiled. “You ready to go home, my friend?”

No! No! That’s fucking, Neal. He doesn’t even have a real ambulance. I’m not going. Somebody, anybody, heeeelp!

[firefly-in-darkness]

Galaxy Princess - 2/3

Galaxy Princess - 2/3

Characters → Y/N & Peter Quill, Mentions of other Marvel characters.

Summary → After the birth of superheroes, several alien attacks and the blip, you were pretty much ready for anything. That was until you met Peter Quill. He burst into your life at lightning speed and nothing could have prepared you for the way he turned your world upside down.

Word Count → 2k.

Warnings → 18+, Smut - oral (male receiving), p in v (unprotected - wrap it before you tap it bro).

Series Taglist → OPEN - send an ask.

Beta → @princessmisery666 // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → Should have posted this at half 7 but everything seemed to go wrong BUT it’s here now… This is for @crushedbyhyperbole - I am so sorry that this is months late to your challenge! [Prompt: To the moon and back - in Part 3]. This is GOTG Vol1&2 Peter Quill set in a post-Endgame world. AND YES MY SCHEDULE WENT COMPLETELY WRONG.

Return to: Series List // Marvel List

Previously: Spare bedding was placed on the sofa and Y/N directed him around the apartment, “The shower is just down the hall. If you can’t sleep, here’s the tv remote and help yourself to food.” 

“Thank you, Princess.” 

“Goodnight, Starlord.” 

“It’s Peter.” His cheeky smile had faded to something softer. 

“Y/N. Goodnight Peter.”  

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.” He laid down and continued to wave until she shut the bedroom door. 

Y/N was too tired to process that she was leaving a stranger on his own, in her home. There was an odd comfort from his determination to get back to his ship and crew; the place he belonged.

After spending the best part of an hour deciding when to leave the bedroom and greet her guest, breakfast the next morning was not as awkward as Y/N had imagined. The moment she sat down at the kitchen table; her apprehension disappeared. It seemed natural to be opposite Peter, eating toast and draining her mug of coffee as he did the same.

“I’ve got some clothes that you can borrow,” She mentioned, trying to sound casual.

“Boyfriend?” His eyebrow quirked, obviously noticing the drop of her eyes, “Ex-boyfriend?” 

The air in the room disappeared, sucked out like a vacuum. Y/N was unable to think straight as the image of the owner of the clothes flashed in her mind's eye. Tears began to form, blurring her vision but before they fell she bit down on her bottom lip. Redirecting the emotional pain.

“My um, brother. I’ll be right back,” She whispered and rushed from the room.

She pushed open the door opposite her bedroom, and breathed in the, now faint, scent of hazelnut and him. The feel of the clothes under her fingertips was bittersweet, and Y/N couldn’t help bringing the sleeve of his favourite hoodie to her nose and inhaling deeply. 

Approaching footsteps echoed around the almost empty room, she pulled out a pair of jeans and a cotton t-shirt, immediately failing at composing herself in time as Peter entered the room. Kindness lined his features, and she couldn’t look at him any longer than a second.

“I think they should fit, you’re a similar height but he is- was- a bit leaner.” She offered him the items.

 Skin ignited at the delicate touch of Peter’s calloused hands that wrapped around her forearm, “Thank you. What was his name?”

“Eli. Elijah,” She whispered, her eyes unmoving from the thumb stroking the inside of her wrist. “I don’t like talking about it. Why don’t you try the radio once more and I’ll head to the hardware store to see if I can fix the transmitter.”

Peter nodded, “Believe me, I know family is a tough subject for anyone.” She met his eyes, sincerity and sympathy stared back at her. “But if talking about it would help lighten some of the sadness in your eyes, I’d be happy to listen.” 

Y/N nodded and gave him a small smile, appreciating the kindness from the stranger.

The fixed transmitter sat on the windowsill. One of the three lights had finally turned on, it had beeped a few times which was, hopefully, a good sign. After four hours of waiting for something else to happen, Y/N and Peter resigned to watching Stranger Things.

Even though Peter was enthralled with the music and monsters that came from the television, he couldn’t help the way he felt as Y/N shared snippets of her life with him. The way she would talk to him about all the things she loved about science fiction, space and of all the new things on Earth. Y/N’s excitement was infectious, and he didn’t want to part with it.

To slow down and spend time with someone as enigmatic as she was a one-eighty on his usual fast-paced crazy life as a Guardian of the Galaxy.  And that’s when he knew that he’d have to stall his departure if possible.

While Y/N was getting ready for bed in the bathroom, Peter grabbed a cell phone from his red jacket and hopped out the window and onto the fire escape, perching on one of the steps. He flipped open the phone and dialled one of the few contacts he had.

“Hey, Bird Boy ‘Merica.” He chirped, glancing through the window to check that she hadn’t left the bathroom. “Can you give Rocket these coordinates? Pick up in five days? Cheers Cap.”

Pocketing the phone, he sat looking up to the sky, watching the stars twinkling in the distance, and for the first time since he was abducted all those years ago, he felt at home. Y/N’s footsteps brought him back to reality; he was leaving but not just yet.

“Whatcha doin’ out there?” She giggled, now in pyjamas and knotting the ties of her robe at her waist.

“Just checking out the sky, Princess.” He grinned at her.

Y/N climbed out the window and grabbed his hand, pulling him up the fire escape. They both greeted Stan on the way, a mischievous look on the older gentleman as he watched the pair laughing as they rushed up the stairs.

Once they reached the top, Y/N dropped his hand and twirled around with her arms open wide, then gestured to the sun lounger. “Welcome to my little piece of heaven.” She smiled proudly, “Take a seat.”

Peter sat back, legs either side of the lounger to allow Y/N to perch in between, “Come up here often?”

“Yeah, every Friday night, at least. It’s how I knew where you crashed,” She pointed to the woodlands in the distance.

“Well, I thank the stars that you were out here. Honestly, I don't know what I would have done.” Peter paused, watching the modesty line her features as she shrugged.

Y/N was different from the other girls he’d met. She had this look of adventure and passion for space, the universe, the unknown. Something that he had only seen in children. He could feel something blossoming; a desire to know more about her, spend more time with her, but he also knew that he’d be leaving and that was not going to put a downer on tonight.

Peter wanted to make the most of the time they had. However long they had. His hands gripped at Y/N’s waist, and he tugged her back, guiding her to lay on his chest. She hesitated at first but after a few seconds, she curled into his arms and rested her head on his shoulder. Watching the sunset over the trees.

The cool breeze sent shivers up and down Y/N’s body, she held tighter onto Peter’s waist. Her mind raced with all the possibilities only to be destroyed by her insecurity; maybe this could be my way out? Don’t be silly. He’s just going to leave. You don’t know him; he could be a serial killer.

Peter brushed the strands of hair away from her face, bringing her out of her thoughts. Her body tensed as he tipped her chin upwards. She looked at him in wonder and slight confusion. Peter cupped her cheek, his lips met hers, and she was frozen in place.

After a moment, she melted into him, their lips moulded together seamlessly. Peter deepened the kiss, and earning a gasp from her, it allowed his tongue entrance into her mouth. It silenced her worries and all thoughts of this man being a stranger and being from out of space left her mind. The fact that they were on a rooftop and anyone could glance from the neighbouring apartments slipped away as his tongue danced with hers.

She couldn’t refrain from his touch any longer and adjusted her position; swinging her leg over his and straddled his lap, not breaking the kiss for a second. Peter’s arms snaked around her waist, holding her almost impossibly closer to him. 

The dressing gown fanned around them, giving her body access to the delicious friction of his erect cock through his jeans and her pyjama shorts, the material dampening at her core.

She wished she’d changed into the black underwear set that she had bought on a whim a couple of days ago. She was confident in pursuing this with Peter and she was glad her instincts were correct; it was just bad timing.

Peter’s deep moan disconnected their lips and Y/N bit hers as she watched the pleasure take over his features. His hands trailed down to her hips, gripping tightly to the soft gown, and untying the rope and pushing it off her shoulders. His lips met hers once more, she whimpered as his hands lifted her tank top over her head.

He drank in her appearance, his eyes scanning from her face down to her chest. He surged forward, his mouth leaving wet kisses to her jaw, following the path down her neck. Y/N’s hands found their way into his locks, tugging at the ends as he nipped at a sensitive spot on her collarbone.

Peter glanced up at her, an unspoken request for permission. She nodded and Peter obliged, latching around her nipple with his hand palmed at the other breast. Y/N gasped as his teeth scraped at the hardened bud then she tugged at Peter’s cotton top. He huffed as he finished his assault across her chest and pulled off the offensive article. Y/N stood up and shimmied out of the shorts. Peter followed suit with the denim and boxers.

The summer breeze struggled to cool their heated skin as they admired each other’s exposed figures. The moonlight cast shadows over their naked bodies yet highlighted every delicious dip and sensuous curve.

Y/N dropped to her knees in front of him, ignoring the debris that dug into her skin as she levelled herself with his cock. She used her index finger to smear the beaded pre-cum around his head. She curled her hand, gripping his shaft and languidly pumped.

“Fuck, Princess.” He grunted as she twisted her hand up and down his length. “Want your mouth.”

Y/N immediately parted her lips and began licking his tip then took him fully. The tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat caused her to choke slightly but as she regained her composure she looked up at Peter. Flushed cheeks and the darkened glint in his eyes held her gaze turned her into a mess.

Raspy moans and grunts spurred Y/N on; her tongue swirled, and she took him deeper into her throat once more. His hands gripped her shoulders, tugging her away to stand. The passion erupted between them, a clash of lips, teeth, and tongues. Peter’s hands slid down her body, grabbed at her thighs to lift and she obliged. 

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he laid her down on the sun lounger. She was in awe at his strength while he pulled the cushions to soften her head and back before letting her go completely. 

Peter pulled the blanket across them both then nuzzled at her neck, nipping at her sensitive spots, behind her ear, the corner of her jaw and along the edge of her collarbone. He rested on his left side, to keep her from toppling off the side and to keep his full weight off her.

Y/N whimpered at the way his cock teased at her entrance with each of the restricted ruts of his hips. His hands snaked down to her core, fingers rubbing at her clit, coating in her slick before two entered her pussy. 

Peter’s mouth continued the assault on her neck, leaving darkening marks while Y/N’s soft moans rang through the night. It coaxed the fire burning in her belly; the pleasure shivered to the tips of her fingers and the curl of her toes.

Y/N arched her back, her nipples grazing against the hard planes of his chest. Her head tipped back into the cushions; he was filling every part of her existence with ecstasy. The stars above them blurred as he added another finger; widening her ready to take his dick.

Peter entered her slowly; both adjusting to this new level of intimacy as his lips connected with hers and their tongues joined the fray. Y/N’s core twisted in desire and impatience as she ground her hips to encourage his movement.

Peter pushed and pulled against her body, his pelvis hitting her deliciously with each thrust. Her walls clenched around him as he continued to grind and dip and tug at her. Y/N surrendered her body to him, letting him take control, and relished in every second as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

Her hands gripped tightly to his shoulders, nails digging into his tanned skin as his thrusts slowed but hardened. Their bodies moulded together as one, the feeling of weightlessness reached every corner of their existence as they reached their climax.

Peter pulled Y/N to lie across him, her head tucked into his neck. Their bodies relaxing into the cushions, their skin glistening with beaded sweat and the moonlight shining delicately across them both.

Y/N felt the gravitational pull back to reality; he was going to leave. It was only a matter of time.

To Be Continued...

Everything Tag List; @reann-loves-sebstan​ / @aroyaldarknessblr​ / @thefridgeismybestie​ / @kitkatd7​

Marvel Tag List; @natasha-danvers​ / @musesforart​

[quarantineddreamer]

@zutaraweek 2020 Day 1: Reunion

This is my first Zutara week since I am new to the ATLA fandom. For some reason I am very nervous to post this (I think because I spent my morning scrolling through the tag and OMG THE TALENT!!) but anyways, here it is! 

Also posted on my AO3

Rating: G

Summary: “I’ll save you from the pirates” -Zuko Katara

Katara picked nervously at the corner of the scroll she bent over, eyes passing over the familiar handwriting for the hundredth time in the past hour alone. We’re boarding the ship shortly… meeting went really well, I think that any additional negotiations will… I’ve been counting down the days till I get to hold you in my arms again... by the time this messenger hawk reaches you it should only be two more nights spent apart... Love always, Zuko. The letter, detailing the success of the Fire Lord’s diplomatic visit to the city of Omashu where a few restless rebellions had arisen had reached Katara over a week ago.

The waterbender frowned as she reached for her tea -a soothing blend that Iroh had promised would help her sleep despite her worry. Still squinting at Zuko’s hurried penmanship, Katara’s fingertips found the steaming liquid instead of the sides of the porcelain teacup, and she cursed as she flinched, knocking the beverage all over her reading material.

“No, no, no!” she cried, waving her hands, pulling the water from the page rapidly so as to keep the ink from running. When at last she was certain she had managed to save the precious material, she collapsed into her chair with a heavy sigh. As she watched the shadows from the candle on her desk play across the walls of her office, she tried desperately to calm herself.

He’s probably just hit bad weather. An image of Zuko thrashing about in the merciless waves of a storm flashed in her mind. Nope! Nope! He’s, uh, just not caught the right wind. But of course, the Fire Nation vessel Zuko had boarded did not rely on a breeze and they couldn’t have run out of power, not with firebenders like Zuko to provide fuel. Not for the first time, she wished that her friends were not scattered across the globe -wished that, at minimum, Aang had been traveling with Zuko, both of them flying safely on Appa’s soft back. But Aang was with Sokka and Suki in the South Pole at the moment helping with restoration work, and Toph was in Ba Sing Se training a special force of Earth Benders to help take down the remnants of the Dai Li.

The last time Katara had felt anything close to this level of worry for Zuko, he had been lying on the ground motionless, remnants of his sister’s lightning dancing across his body. At least she had been with him then, to look after him. Now, she didn’t know where he was or what condition he was in, but she knew him, and she knew it was not nothing that would keep him from her -not with all they had fought through before...

Katara had never felt so alone, but it was Zuko who had asked that she remain behind. “It’ll only be a month!” She remembered his hand on her shoulder as he gave her a pleading look. “Please... While I am gone Uncle will need help keeping everything in check here. You’re the only person in the world I would trust.” When she had finally reluctantly agreed, the kiss he had given her had banished all sadness at the thought of his absence. What was a month apart when they had a lifetime to look forward to now that the war was over? But he was not here now to erase her fear and dispel the hard knot lodged in her stomach.

The month had gone by fast with plenty of ‘Fire Lady’ duties to take care of, but the days that had passed since his estimated date of arrival had dragged with agonizing slowness as though time itself were taunting her… Her fingers itched to drag the scroll towards her again, to scour its surface for clues. He wouldn’t just disappear, he would tell them if he was going to be late.

A soft knock on the door broke the typhoon of anxiousness tearing through her mind. “Yes?” she called.

Iroh’s face, normally so jovial, was grave as it peered into the room. “A soldier from Zuko’s guard just arrived at the palace.”

“Where is he?” She nearly choked on the question, sensing her worst fears were about to be confirmed.

“Their ship was ambushed by a group of pirates. Zuko has been taken hostage and is being held unless the Fire Nation delivers a significant sum to his captors.”

She barely heard the rest, the where, when, and how. All she knew was she was done waiting, fussing over words on paper as though that could bring him back. She should have trusted her instinct, the tightness in her chest, that had told her something was wrong. Should’ve gone with him to Omashu to begin with... She pushed her chair back and stood. “I’m going after him.”

“Katara, please, we have identified the particular ship that has him, we can send a fleet after him.” Iroh fiddled with the teacup and papers on her desk nervously.

“I can handle some lousy pirates. He’s been gone too long, Iroh! And we can’t have the Fire Nation knowing their ruler has been taken...” Already her heart was racing. She’d never admit it, but a dangerous, secretive, part of her missed this. The raw rush of adrenaline from imminent conflict was intoxicating, addictive. Diplomatic meetings had taken her all over the world, but paperwork and debate had nothing on this.

Iroh hung his head. “Peace is fragile. I am aware…” He hesitated, observing her expression intently before saying, “I suppose no one is better suited to chase down pirates, than the greatest Master Water Bender…”

“Hardly,” she quipped humbly, but he always knew how to make her smile. “I appreciate the compliment.” Already at the door she turned to ask, “May I borrow a small ship from the Fire Nation Fleet?”

“The girlfriend of the Fire Lord can have whatever she wishes.” His tone managed to be light, joking, but his eyes still held great sadness and concern.

Katara stepped towards the older man to give him a brief, strong hug, leaning back afterwards to fix him with an earnest gaze. “I promise I’ll bring him home.”

“Stay safe, brave, Katara. I will handle things here.”

“I know you will.”

Moments later she raced through the palace out into the humid night. She did not stop to catch her breath even as she stole past the guards onto the docks and untied the first boat she saw with sails -one she knew she could manage alone.

Yue watched over her and gave her strength as she furiously bent the ocean around her. Spirits help those damn pirates if they’ve so much as given him a papercut...

-----

Zuko groaned as he came to, vaguely aware of a swaying sensation as though he were about to fall, which he figured had something to do with the massive lump at the back of his head. Or maybe it was the movement of the ship he was on. He blinked, his mind slowly focusing and gaining awareness -and along with it an awful dose of pain. How long had he been out? A fog was beginning to lift inside him, but the lingering grogginess suggested he had potentially been drugged for quite some time.

His most recent memories were of chaos, arrows whistling through the air, latching onto the deck of their ship. He had tried to incinerate most of them, and had been successful, until something had struck him hard across the back and sent him instantly into the void.  

Rope rubbed at his wrists and clutched at his chest as he struggled. He tried to bend, but found his movement to be too restricted and clumsy -disoriented as he was. A string of curses tumbled from his lips.

“Tsk, tsk. Not language very fitting of His Highness is it?” a voice called from the shadows of the ship’s hold.

Zuko recognized the voice… One of the advisors that had been traveling with him, Jian… Despite the remnants of drugs in his system it was beginning to become clear how their ship had just happened to fall victim to pirates and who had managed to catch Zuko from behind unexpectedly. “What do you want, Jian?” he asked sharply, glaring as the advisor drew closer.

“You are the last person our great nation should be led by,” he hissed.

Zuko’s lips curled in disgust at the man’s hot breath on his face, his nostrils flared as he exhaled smoke and frustration, pleased when Jian backed away, clearly fighting an undignified cough. “I trusted you. I thought you were helping us work to rebuild… The past year… and last week in Omashu. What changed?”

Jian laughed coldly. “This was always the plan. Your naivety will be the end of you young Fire Lord.”

“To hope for something better is not naive,” Zuko replied fiercely.

The former advisor scanned him for a moment then smirked, eyes shining with mania. “Look at where you are.” He lifted arms clad in elegant red silk to gesture at their dingy surroundings. “You will either die here, or in a cell in a Fire Nation prison unless a ransom is paid.”

Zuko snorted, a small flame escaping his nose. He wished, not for the first time in his life, that he had managed to master more fire breathing than that -something that would be useful in his current predicament- but that had always been more Azula’s specialty despite all of Uncle’s efforts. “Money? That’s what this is about?”

“That is only the beginning,” he whispered conspiratorially. Beady black eyes danced in lantern light as he regarded Zuko with intense hatred. “One day soon, the rightful Fire Lord will return to the Fire Nation throne and he will make you pay for your treasonous actions.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. Great, another Ozai loyalist. Just his luck that one had been insidious enough to work his way to this point. Maybe he was naive, though if Katara and the rest of his friends had taught him anything, it was that trying to find the good in others would never be a bad thing. He had everything to thank for their belief in that. Katara… He shut his eyes for a moment as a wave of longing washed over him. Arguably he had been in worse situations than this, but it had been years since he had faced them without her by his side. If only he had let her come along…but he had been so afraid to leave the Fire Nation unattended with all its troubles placed solely on his uncle’s shoulders.

A knock at the door interrupted Zuko’s thoughts of the Water Bender and the ache that he felt burying itself in his chest knowing she would be worried at his delay. He regretted the stress he would put her through. While Jian went to open the door Zuko tried to subtly tug at his bindings again. If he could just get enough motion in his fingers to firebend and weaken the rope… With Jian distracted he frantically tried to summon enough of the element, fighting the last of the drug’s haze...

“Yes?” Jian asked impatiently of the visitor to the hold, a short, skinny pirate with a large, floppy hat that Zuko could see extended beyond even the width of Jian’s frame that blocked the doorway.

Almost there… Zuko wiggled his wrists in small circles, wincing when a small jet of fire nearly set his pants aflame, missing the ropes entirely. Fortunately the hold’s wood was damp enough that the floor remained unlit. The firebender took a deep breath and tried again, thankful that Jian was still busy discussing something with the pirate at the door.

An image of Katara practicing her bending came to mind. He recalled the graceful, delicate, intention with which she waved every muscle in her hands. On his second attempt to burn the ropes he was careful to control his digits more precisely, and his efforts were rewarded when he felt a small heat pass along his palms and hit the rope.

The sounds of Jian bidding the pirate farewell and closing the door encouraged Zuko to rush his final pass at burning the ropes off. He fought back a hiss of pain as he felt flame pass over the delicate flesh on the inside of his lower arms. Seconds later when he gave the bonds one last tug and felt them fall away his injury was forgotten. He remained carefully still as Jian turned back to him, waiting for the perfect moment.

When the advisor strayed within arm’s reach Zuko suddenly lunged, seizing him by the shoulders and spinning the man, head-first, into the nearest wall. Jian collapsed with a soft, surprised exclamation and a solid thunk of skull colliding with wood, and Zuko, breathed a sigh of relief.

Wasting no time he rushed for the door, throwing himself through the opening and shooting glances down the short hallway. Luckily, it was clear. Quietly, he sealed Jian in the cell and padded softly towards a set of stairs illuminated with pale moonlight. He had no idea what awaited him on the deck. Whatever it was he would handle it then, though he had to shake Iroh’s admonishing tone from his head, ‘You never think these things through!’

When he emerged from the belly of the ship he was prepared for an immediate onslaught of pirate swords and other weaponry, but despite what he was sure were Jian’s desires, these were not Fire Nation soldiers. The crew was gathered around a makeshift table and their drunken cackles and bickering carried loudly above even the sea breeze and persistent slapping of water against the hull.

Zuko crouched behind a wooden crate and scanned the deck. There were more than a dozen pirates playing cards in the moonlight and who knew how many more aboard the ship. With the moon shining brightly in the sky Zuko knew Katara would have been a force to be reckoned with, but he could not say the same for his firebending, and he was disappointed in how weak he felt -from hunger, thirst, likely concussion, and not to mention residual effects of whatever Jian had been using to keep him unconscious.

He was contemplating the slim likelihood of stealing away unnoticed with one of the small boats tied to the side of the ship when the gull-rat squawked at him. At first, he ignored it -at any given moment any seaside town or boat was always under the assault of the persistent creature and its horrible fecal habits- but when it continued to tilt its head at him in curiosity he recalled the companions the pirates he had met several years ago kept…The gull-rat’s call was louder the second time and Zuko swore as its owner, walking away from the card table with a fistful of coins and a drunken grin, blinked at the sight of the prisoner wandering freely.

It was really not his day. Zuko sprinted for the boat he had been eyeing early, bending a blast of flame at the ropes that held it to the main ship and hoping he would not be far behind the vessel as it crashed loudly into the ocean below. The gambling crew were all armed now, and though a few teetered from the effects of what was decidedly not the calming tea Iroh was always drinking, many looked formidable opponents. A circle was already closing around Zuko who searched desperately for an opening.

The Fire Lord managed to dodge two pirates who swung rusty blades at him and pushed back three more with a ball of flame. Seeing an opening in the ranks, he dashed wildly for the side of the ship, glancing back only once when an arrow whizzed past his shoulder.

Once was one time too many. He crashed right into the short, skinny pirate that had stopped by his cell to speak with Jian and they collapsed to the deck in a painful twist of limbs. Before Zuko could roll away the short pirate had pinned him and grabbed both his wrists.

-----

“I’ll save you from the pirates,” she whispered, grinning as the confusion on his handsome face turned to joy when she removed the ridiculous hat she wore so he could see her. His smile was everything, she hadn’t realized just how much she had missed it -instantly warming her from the inside out.  

“Katara!” He sat up and pulled her into a tight embrace, kissing the top of her head and breathing in the smell of her hair.

She was disappointed when he broke away to stand. It was understandable though. The pirates were racing towards them -even the gull-rat was giving chase.

“I knocked a boat into the water, if we can just swim to it…” Zuko eyed the railings of the ship unhappily, no doubt imagining the long drop.

“And then what?” Katara asked, drawing water from the ocean and forming two whips over both her arms.

“We, uh, we go?” Zuko offered.

She fought back a bubble of laughter. “You really don’t think things through. Zuko, they can just chase us! They’d catch us in no time in this larger ship. Was that really your plan?”

He fumbled for words, cheeks flushing furiously with embarrassment.

Katara lashed out at the first wave of pirates, tripping them with one long tendril of water. “Zuko, you’re a firebender, set the ship on fire!” She looked away as a stray pirate broke rank to try and shoot them with his bow. A jet of water aimed sharply by Katara eliminated that immediate problem. “You are the Fire Lord, how did you not think of this?” This time the laughter escaped her, his befuddled expression too cute to take.

“I, uh.. Okay, I’m pretty sure I have a concussion... and potentially still some drugs in my system?” he admitted, punching the air with his fists, sending fire at the pirates and the sails of the ship. Soon the entire deck was dancing with the dangerous orange glow.

“That’s our cue!” Katara declared, and grabbed his hand. “Ready?” She stepped up onto the railing of the ship and he followed.

They balanced precariously for a moment, her hair spinning wildly in the wind, before jumping into the air, stomachs dropping for a brief exhilarating second before Katara froze a wave to slide them towards the empty boat bobbing in the waves. A miscalculation on her part landed them in frigid ocean water that stole both their breaths away.

Katara was first to pull herself into the boat, flopping wetly into the wooden hull. She giggled at the sight of Zuko, hair spiked every which way by the ocean, arms flung desperately over the side of the boat kicking furiously to pull himself into the raft. Taking mercy on a Fire Bender out of his element, she helped him aboard. Together they looked back at the burning pirate ship, observing the frantic shadows of the crew moving about with buckets of water. Still, Katara did not wait long to begin moving their vessel to the small cove nearby where she had anchored her Fire Nation ship.

Only when they were confident that no one had pursued them to the sandy shores and were safely sailing towards home aboard her borrowed ship did they rest, allowing the wind to do the work for them. They collapsed, laying on the deck, staring skyward at a ceiling of stars, and Zuko gently pulled Katara against him. She reveled in the familiar beat of his heart beneath her as she settled her head on his chest.

She felt him shake as he laughed quietly. “I still can’t believe I didn’t think, to... Burn the ship?”

Katara reached for a small bit of water and it glowed as she reached a hand back to touch the side of his head. “Better?” she asked after a moment.

“Yeah, much. Thank you…” he sighed and leaned his scarred face into her healing palm. “I can’t say this was the reunion I was imagining.”

“I don’t know…” She looked up at him, the beginnings of a soft smile tugging at her lips. “We’re even now,” she teased, bumping him playfully. “And it was kind of fun... Reminds me of how far we’ve come.” How different things were since the last time they had encountered pirates -and not just his hair, though thank the spirits for that.

“Just another day in the life of the Fire Lord I guess,” Zuko replied wistfully, a hand playing with the end of one of her curls.

“I mean, I’m not saying you should do it again… ”

“Not without you... “Never without you,” he promised -and to Katara’s delight, sealed the oath by placing his lips against hers.

[tipsycad147]

The Descent of Inanna

by Crimsonwolf

Enki the Wise is the god of fresh water and wisdom. He is a great helper of humankind, and gave to us the Seven Sages, who taught us many arts and skills. To the beautiful Inanna, of whom he is most fond, he gave many gifts as well: wisdom, justice, love, the sacred women, and the fruit of the vine. Inanna is the morning star and the evening star, the rose, and Queen of the Heavens. She is the daughter of Sen, the god of the Moon.

Inanna has a sister named Ereshkigal, who lives and rules in Irkalla, the land of the dead. Though Inanna was always very wise, in her youth she knew nothing of her sister's land, and wanted to learn of it. She asked the permission of the other gods to go. After much hesitation and debate, they granted her wish.

So it was that Inanna went to the gates of Irkalla and petitioned the gatekeeper for entry. Actually, being in the fire of her youth and after all a goddess, she got pretty pushy about it. She said, "Here gatekeeper, open your gate! If you don't open up, I'll smash the door and shatter the bolt! I'll raise up all the dead and they shall come up to Earth and eat the living, until there's more dead than alive!" Well, that certainly got the gatekeeper's attention. He got on the horn to Ereshkigal right away.

Needless to say, Ereshkigal was not amused. "What does she want," Ereshkigal hissed. "For bread I eat clay, for beer I drink muddy water. It is I who must weep for the young men taken from their sweethearts, for the young girls taken from their lovers laps. It is I who must weep for the infants taken so long before their time. Does she want a piece of that? Or is it the Water of Life she wants?" For it was true, Ereshkigal did keep the Water of Life down there, a most prized possession in such a bleak place. "Go ahead, Gatekeeper, let her in. But treat her to the ancient rites, as all must endure on their way to me."

Back up top, the Gatekeeper smiled feebly and unlocked the gate. "Enter, my lady. May you find joy here. May Irkalla be happy to see you." At that he snatched Inanna's great crown.

Inanna roared in anger. "Return my crown!" Who are you to remove the crown of a goddess?"

"Go forth, my lady," answered the gatekeeper solemnly. "Such are the ancient rites."

Soon they came to another gate. The gatekeeper unlocked it, and as Inanna passed through, he removed her earrings.

"Why have you taken my earrings?" Inanna demanded, a little less indignant this time.

"Such are the ancient rites, my lady," said the gatekeeper. And this went on for several more gates, seven in all. The gatekeeper took her necklace, then her breast pins, her girdle of birthstones, the bangles on her wrists and ankles, and at last her very gown. Finally, after passing through the seventh gate, Inanna found herself standing naked before Ereshkigal.

Ereshkigal had expected Inanna to be frightened and contrite by this point, and although Inanna was a bit flustered, you would have never known it. Indeed, it was Ereshkigal who was trembling, for although Inanna had been stripped of all of her finery, her radiant presence was overwhelming in the dark, musty palace. Ereshkigal motioned to her vizier.

"Namtar!" she cried. "Send out against her the sixty diseases!"

Now Inanna is tough, but sixty diseases from the Queen of the Dead is enough to slow anybody down. Inanna fell to the ground, and Ereshkigal threw her into a lampless cell to die.

Meanwhile, back on Earth, Inanna was beginning to be missed. Without their beautiful goddess of love, the people fell into despair and stopped screwing. The animals in the forests and fields stopped screwing too - even the bees and butterflies stopped pollinating. The world plunged into a terrible winter, and famine began to ravage the land. Finally Papsukkal, Inanna' s brother, went to their father the Moon-god and told him of of the tragedies befalling the Earth. Together they went to see Enki the Wise.

Enki the Wise, being of course wise, came up with a plan. He created a being to save Inanna, and to be her close and trusted friend. From the dirt beneath his fingernails he made Asushunamir, whose name means "he/she whose face is brilliant." And being luminescent like the moon, Asushunamir passed directly into the underworld from the overworld, as only the moon can do. In the dark palace of the underworld he appeared before Ereshkigal.

"Oh my my, what have we here!" Ereshkigal cried. She was overtaken with desire at his/her beauty, and became immediately obsessed with taking Asushunamir to her bed. She called a lavish feast in his/her honor, and had her best wine brought to the table. Asushunamir sang in his/her ethereal voice for her, and danced sensually, but was careful not to eat any food prepared by ghosts, and to pour his wine on the floor when Ereshkigal wasn't looking.

When Ereshkigal had at last become very drunk, Asushunamir asked of her, "Oh great and lovely queen... is it not true you keep the Water of Life here? For I have heard it is so, and I have longed to taste it."

"Namtar!" Ereshkigal cried. " Bring me the jug that holds the Water of Life! I shall grant this magnificent creature's wish."

When Ereshkigal finally passed out in a drunken stupor, Asushunamir quietly took the jug to the cell where Inanna lay dying. He/she sprinkled the Water of Life upon her, and Inanna quickly began to revive, her eyes regaining their sparkle and her face flushing pink like a child's. Hurriedly she rose, and bidding Asushunamir to follow, raced upward through the seven gates and back to Earth. As she burst through the final door, the flowers immediately began to open and the grass to green, and the skies cleared at last.

Asushunamir was not so fortunate. Just as he was approaching the seventh gate, Ereshkigal awakened, and no amount of music, dance or flattery could charm her now.

"The food of the gutter shall be your food!" Ereshkigal shrieked. "The drink of the sewer shall be your drink! In the shadows you shall abide."

When Inanna learned of the curse placed upon her friend, she wept and spoke softly to him/her. "The power of Ereshkigal is great," she said. "Even I cannot break her spell. But I may soften her curse upon you.

"For many ages you will suffer. Those who are like you, my assinnu, kalum, kurgarru, and kalaturru, lovers of men, kin to my sacred women, shall be strangers in their own homes. Their families will keep them in the shadows and will leave them nothing. The drunken shall smite their faces, and the mighty shall imprison them.

"But if you will remember me, how you were born from the light of the stars to save me from death, to rid the Earth of winter, then I shall harbor you and your kind. I shall give you the gift of prophecy, the wisdom of the Earth and Moon. You shall banish illness from my children, as you healed me in Irkalla. And when you robe yourself in my robes, I shall dance in your feet and sing in your throats. And no man shall be able to resist your enchantments.

"When the Water of Life is brought up from Irkalla, then lions shall leap in the deserts and you shall be freed from the spell of Ereshkigal. Once more you shall be called Asushunamir. The Shining Ones. Those Who Have Come to Renew the Light. The Blessed Ones of Inanna."

Although virtually unknown until about 150 years ago, the Sumerians had a profound influence on later cultures. Images and events from their mythology appear frequently in both the Old and New Testaments. Although comparatively liberal in terms of their religious mainstream, by the time the Sumerians were in full swing the patriarchal bias born of the "agricultural revolution" was already some 6000 years old; note that Enki the Wise, the creator, is male. In the later years of their culture, the Sumerians became increasingly warlike and less egalitarian in their treatment of the sexes.

Inanna, or Ishtar as she was called in Babylonia and northern Sumeria, was one of the three great goddesses of the Bronze Age, along with Isis of Egypt and Cybele of Anatolia. Besides being served by priestesses, she was also attended by gender variant priests - possibly eunuchs - and by hierodules (sacred prostitutes) of both sexes. Transgendered people of several cultures subsequently served many other goddesses : Athirat, Isis, Hera, Demeter, Ma, Kotys, Astarte/Aphrodite, Atargatis, Artemis/Diana, and especially Cybele, whose priests - called the "Galli" - are very well documented. With the burgeoning patriarchy well underway, these transgendered servants of the Goddess - like the hijras in modern day India - were generally viewed with contempt, and treated with fearful respect.

The verbiage at the end of this tale regarding Asushunamir borrowed heavily on a ritual recorded by Randy P. Connor in his book Blossom of Bone. Although currently out of print, it is well worth seeking out; see Recommended Reading.

https://crimsonwolfe.tripod.com/id53.html

[eury--dice]

history, huh?

chapter 2: prope

(check the rb for chapter 1 on tumblr + ao3 links!)

Blue’s gum popped loudly on the other line. Adam couldn’t remember the last time he saw her chew gum, but somehow it seemed fitting that she picked up the habit then, with him overseas. “Any weird paintings?”

“I’m legally obligated not to tell you,” Adam replied, flicking his eyes over a textbook. He scanned his eyes over a page, but the fonts and colors all blurred together, creating a grey and red mass of string in front of him instead of a helpful breakdown of France’s pre-revolution economy. His phone, propped up on a tiny potted fern, revealed Blue Sargent in all of her early-evening glory. He wondered what the tabloids might think of her like this: her thick and short black hair held back by clashing vibrant hair clips, dressed in one of Gansey’s old Aglionby sweaters she converted into a halter top, felt-tip pen ink somehow smudged on her cheek. There was something wonderfully grounding about her familiar chaos.

“Contracts are a suggestion and nothing more.”

“Don’t let your mother hear that. She’ll have us both thrown in jail.” Ronan’s words from earlier popped into his head, but he had the luxury of ignoring them with the prince out of sight, and so he did. 

“C’mon, Adam, you know she’s a softie. You’re in Kensington Palace. You have to tell me something exciting.”

Adam scrounged for something to tell her. He glanced around his room again, still caught off-guard by how much it felt like a castle. Admittedly, he didn’t have a great reference for what castles were supposed to feel like; the only other castle he had been in was the Bishop Palace on a tour with his mother at age eight. His hair raised on end at random moments here the same way it did then, the draftiness leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable. He couldn't quite shake the idea that someone was watching him, caught between air molecules and screaming for someone to hear them. The White House sometimes gave him the same feeling. Realistically, he knew people passed over every spot on the earth and nothing made the walls of the White House or Kensington Palace any different in that regard. But the history in them intimidated him. The presence of greats, from founding fathers to celebrity politicians to monarchs, was a guarantee rather than a possibility. He couldn’t help but feel watched by them, feel their expectations and disappointment thick in the air.

Living there all the time as Ronan did must be lonely, surrounded only by ghosts. 

He pushed his feet against the floor, leaning back in his chair so that it balanced on two legs. His leg swung back and forth to dully hit the wooden underside of the seat while the other braced him. Adam didn’t quite want to tell Blue any of that. He knew she would understand, both because she was Blue and because her family was a big believer in the supernatural and psychic. But he didn’t know how to say it without a long-winded rant. “There’s a coat of armor outside my room,” he admitted in a low tone. “I’ve been waiting for it to twitch its finger and beckon me closer.”

“I’m sure if you ask nicely it will let you pursue your weird metal fantasies.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Adam said without heat, finally flipping the textbook shut. “No kink-shaming over the phone.”

“I watched the Wizard of Oz with you at age eight, Adam. You can’t hide your reaction to the Tin Man from me.”

Adam rubbed his eyes. “I need ice cream to deal with this bullying,” he announced, standing from the borrowed desk and snatching his phone up.

“Aw, at least I know that the English haven’t been able to suck all the life out of you if you’re complaining and want ice cream.”

“They haven’t managed it yet, but we’re only one photo op in.”

“Well, if the excess of British does manage to sideline you, let me know. I know Gansey will want the heads-up for the tabloids.”

“As long as you don’t feed them headlines again, I’d be happy to.” Adam rounded the corner into the spacious kitchen reserved for guests of the Crown. He’d roll his eyes at the needless expense if the White House didn’t provide the exact same accommodations. 

“I’m telling you again, I know nothing of the allegation.”

Adam gave her a flat look. “Who else would pen ‘First Son Denies Fur Son Residence in the Residence?’ Besides the obvious reason for it being bad, it was clearly you.”

Blue blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Sometimes I hate your intimate knowledge of my love of wordplay.”

“And I yours of the diplomatic taxidermy gifts I receive.”

“I’m sure the Minister of Foreign Affairs’ son meant well, he was just...creepy.”

Adam sighed, opening the freezer with one hand to reveal a box of pre-packaged ice cream cones. “They always mean well.”

He pulled the box from the freezer and shut the door, turning on his heel to face the counter. But he stopped short when he noticed it was no longer just him and Blue alone in the kitchen. 

Prince Ronan stood in the entryway to the kitchen, disarmed in the half-light with his flannel pajama pants and black t-shirt combination. Over-the-ear headphones sat on his head, but he pushed them down to loop around his neck. The music was so loud it bled into the air, carrying the harsh sound of drums until they reached Ronan across the kitchen. On his screen, Blue studied Adam and his sudden pause, and the voice of Gansey carried over from somewhere far away - “I’ve got a new article,” it sounded like, though Adam could barely hear anything. 

“Call you back,” he said quietly, disconnecting from the call. Ronan looked almost apologetic when Adam looked back up towards him.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” he confessed. “Goody-two-shoes like you.”

Adam wanted to take offense to it, but something stopped him. “I could say the same for you.”

“Yes, well, insomnia calls.”

“Doesn’t it always?” The two shared a tight smile. 

“I was out,” Ronan explained, gesturing to the box in Adam’s hand. “Knew there’d be a stock here. I’m...sorry.” The word sounded bitter and foreign on his tongue.

“It’s fine,” Adam said. “Midnight snacks are to be taken seriously or not at all.” He slid the box across the counter, suddenly very aware of his threadbare, faded crimson coca-cola tee shirt and GU sweatpants. He couldn’t stop feeling the slide of them against his skin. 

Ronan clutched the box once it reached him, looking to Adam with something close to surprise. Still, he opened the box and selected an ice cream. 

While he was distracted, Adam snapped a picture, the flash bright in the dim kitchen. 

The stare leveled at him by Ronan should’ve been enough to pin any self-preserving person in place, but Adam rarely did what was best for him personally. “What the fuck is that for?”

“Two social media posts a day,” Adam replied, speeding through the filtering process and tapping to the captioning. “It’s part of the contract.”

“Of course it would be,” Ronan mutters with great disdain. “Fucking social media addicted hounds.”

“Not a fan of technology?”

“Oh, sure, other than the fact that it’s a blight consuming the world by slaughtering brain cells and slowly giving us radiation poisoning.”

“You could’ve just said ‘yes.’”

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?”

Adam smiled brightly. “Not giving me a headache from all of the pomposity?” 

“Exactly. No fun.” When Adam continued to stare blankly at his screen, Ronan rolled his eyes. “Does it take you this long to caption everything you do? If so, I understand why so little governing takes place.”

“Because the monarchy is oh-so-powerful,” Adam replied, but then decided to cut them off before it could turn into a full-blown fight. “It always takes me a minute to think of something good.”

Ronan grabbed the phone from his hands. “You’re overthinking it,” he dismissed, making a few decisive taps before handing the phone back to Adam, photo captioned but not yet posted. insomnia ice cream ft. @PrinceRonan. 

“Thought you hated technology?”

“Hate and lack of proficiency are two different things.” “...Of course,” Adam said, clicking post on the photo. Ronan turned and walked toward the door, the song on his headphones audibly changing. Not one for goodbyes, then. The feeling he had in his room was back then, the idea that ghosts clung to the air around him and stole oxygen with their demands. Although Ronan had not yet left, Adam already felt as though he were lonely. Lonely, but not alone, still technically with Ronan and all of the ghosts thickening the air.

Adam, in a fluid movement he didn’t really plan, dumped half of the ice creams on the counter and held out the box across the marble countertop as though bridging some wide ocean. The coolness of the marble inched closer to the skin of his forearm where it hovered a few inches in the air.

“You can take these if you’d like.”

Ronan froze, his back straightened and still before he turned ninety degrees back to look at Adam. “Pardon?”

“The ice cream cones. It’s probably better you do, honestly. I just eat them when I’m bored. Calories I don’t really need.”

Ronan’s startlingly blue eyes studied him for a moment, roaming every line of Adam’s face as though searching for some trickery and then jumping to the box in Adam’s outstretched hand. “Thank you,” he said at last in an undertone, accepting the offered box. And, leaving Adam with some hint of a smile, Prince Ronan was gone, Adam all by himself and the faint memory of intense guitar music leaking from expensive headphones still lingering in the air. 

  Once they landed firmly in PR territory, Adam felt a bit steadier on his feet.

PR he knew like the back of his hand, armed with years of experience from campaigns and political terms. It was not innate for him like for Gansey, but like everything else in his life, Adam was a star pupil and quick to pick it up thoroughly. He studied diligently, examining the facial expressions of everyone around him, examining each furrow of brow and twitch of lips and bellow of a laugh, practicing and perfecting on his own to ensure that he blended in seamlessly and, when necessary, stood out brilliantly. America’s First Son, valedictorian-intelligent and attractive enough to stop hearts for a moment upon seeing him. By the time he sat on ITV This Morning next to his enemy, he certainly knew all the tips and tricks and expertise ensuring a successful interview, and luckily Ronan seemed to know his way around a talk show as well. His thoroughly British host seemed appropriately charmed by their dynamic, a golden-child American and England’s simultaneously proper and wild Royal. 

Adam excelled at PR not because he was natural but because he was over-prepared, and so he was comfortable with the rhythm he and Ronan fell into - referencing each other’s favorites, cracking dry, sarcastic jokes about ice cream, fist-bumping and throwing arms around each other’s shoulders for effect when needed.

He counted it as a win that his resentment never made it into his words or his actions. Instead, he distracted himself with what they were doing, savoring the news alerts of their “clearly natural” friendship and the thumbs-up and “!!!” texts from Gansey and Blue whenever something exciting reached the press. He ignored Ronan for the most part, and Ronan mostly ignored him. He clenched his teeth and smiled at how rough-and-tumble Ronan looked under stage lighting, as wickedly handsome as a poisoned and sharpened dagger, unfairly attractive even with his head closely shaved. 

Then the time for their second photo op rolled around, sometime after Adam posted an empty-feeling snapshot of Ronan on a deserted London sidewalk with the caption love a nice mid-afternoon walk, and his mood plummeted sharply. 

As well as people and hospitals generally went together, Adam did not have a particularly terrible relationship with any hospitals, especially the Royal Marsden NHS Foundation Trust. He did not enjoy them, sure, but who did? And his discomfort may have gone below the surface-level “death and sickness occur here” jitteriness most people felt, but the majority of the unease coiling in his stomach came from the utterly staged feeling to everything. The First Son and Prince came bearing gifts of books, but they probably did more harm than good for all of the children by displacing all the medical professionals and disrupting their steady routines with full camera crews.

It felt hypocritical, and Adam definitely didn’t want to be shoving cameras in the faces of cancer patient children, but the decisions weren’t up to him, and so he slipped back into PR mode. He shook the hands of nurses and posed faux-candidly for cameras. The only real things he did were with the kids - once they knew who he was, they asked for stories of celebrities and monuments, and although Adam was no fantastic storyteller, he did his best to answer every question and then some. He read to them, too, from the new and donated books, even when the cameras left in search of Ronan. Anger was hard to hold onto when he looked into their faces and resolved to cheer them up. 

He read until his voice began to grind at itself, tucked next to kids on narrow hospital cots. They were all ages, and all perfectly suited to throw Adam back into memories he didn’t want to relive. Looking at the books, with the gaudily-colored pictures and ridiculous rhymes, was easier than looking at the children. They all looked to him with similar looks painted across their faces and twinkling in their eyes, one that made Adam’s heart twist, because he knew that he’d worn that expression so often as a child when he thought someone could help him or save him. They looked at him like he was hope itself, some savior come to grant them a wish and a recovery. He didn’t want to disappoint them.

The visit of the First Son and Prince of England must have cut into naptime because at some point Adam looked up from the book to realize that the camera crews had retreated and all the patients in his ward had dozed off.  He slowly unfurled himself, gangly limbs and all, to stand without disturbing the child who rested so fitfully on the hospital cot. His steps were soft and random against the tile, mostly just a blind search to try and find Ronan. It wasn’t long before he heard Ronan’s voice stretching over space from the next room over. Adam slowed, hoping to stay just out of sight while still observing Ronan.

The Prince perched on the edge of a narrow hospital bed, reminding Adam ridiculously of a bird poised to take flight. Since there were no cameras near him, his posture was slightly relaxed like it had been in the kitchen the night previously. A little girl clung tightly to his hand while he gestured wildly with his other, her eyes wide and hanging onto his every word. Ronan’s voice was somehow hushed and grand at the same time, his posh accent dulled to something a little more rural.

“When three hundred years had come and gone, the four swans traveled South to the sea of Moyle, braving the turbulent tides that wanted to draw them under.” He leaned closer to her and tugged lightly on her free hand with his free hand, perhaps to echo the water he mentioned in the story, and she gripped it tightly, nearing laughter with every second. “They swam past the cold and stormy seas, their feathers ruffled but unharmed when they reached Inis Glora. The swans had grown tired over their long journey, the years of their lives catching up to slow them down.”

Adam, without thinking, felt a bit of a smile take over his face. He was taken aback by the change in Ronan. The boy sitting on the bed seemed lightyears away from any other version - he’d gone a little hazy at the edges, as though he were made of smoke, as though Adam was dreaming and viewing some kind of apparition. His tailored lines still stuck out jaggedly, cutting a harsh figure, but he seemed at ease and gentle for the first time Adam had ever seen. One hell of a storyteller, too. Adam wasn’t sure he wanted to know why, as the Prince of England, Ronan could let all of those Irish words roll off of his tongue as though they came naturally.

An Irish children’s tale. An Irish children’s tale. Why would he know any of those? The answer nagged at Adam’s brain, but he couldn’t find it in himself to dig.

The girl was quiet as Ronan’s voice trailed off until it became nothing. The swans had returned to elderly humans and lived with a priest who blessed them for the rest of their days, and Adam assumed that she was processing the anticlimactic ending. Finally, she said, “I like those endings best.”

“You do?” Ronan asked, patience yielding in his tone. “Why do you like them?”

“Sad endings are too sad, but happy endings aren’t real.”

Adam could only see the back of Ronan’s head, but he could hear him clear his throat and see him squeeze the girl’s hand in his much larger one. “Me, too.” He leaned away from her a little, letting go of one of her hands. When he spoke again, a smile was in his voice. “You’re much wiser than the adults I know. I might have to offer you a position advising me.”

The girl laughed again, a giddy and wild and hopeful thing. “You’re very silly,” she informed Ronan, likely too young to realize any breaches in etiquette. Luckily for her, Ronan didn’t care, either.

“I am very serious,” he said, his face no doubt translating that sentiment very well. He squeezed her hand again. “I’ll be back with an offer in fifteen or so years, don’t you worry.”

“Is that a promise?”

Ronan stilled at once, the muscles in his back set just as they had been in the kitchen. Adam didn’t envy the situation she’d inadvertently put Ronan into. As childish and silly as her question was, there was a little too much weight to the response for him to casually offer a yes or a no.

“Do your best to get better,” he said at length, “and I’ll see what I can do.”

And, oh, that expression of hope was back shining on her face, and Adam had to shuffle to his other foot, looking away. The people were the reason he liked politics, liked the idea of trying to help build a world even a fraction better than the one he was raised in, and yet he couldn’t look. Couldn’t bear the thought of letting anyone down.

Ronan glanced behind him, clearly catching sight of Adam, just as a nurse bustled into the room and cheerfully announced that it was time for medicine.

“Thank you,” the little girl said before releasing his hand.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Ella,” Ronan said with a stiff formality that made her giggle again. “And of course,” he added, a little more softly.

It was perhaps not a polite enough exit for a prince, but after Ronan clumsily thanked the nurse and stepped back into the ward to meet Adam, he knew it was the best they would get. Ronan continued moving past him in the direction Adam assumed the cameras must have gone.

“Ah, so you do have feelings other than anger,” Adam said, trailing Ronan into the hall. 

“Don’t act so fu... completely surprised,” Ronan replied, turning his head towards Adam. At first, he thought Ronan might have been uncomfortable with the idea of Adam seeing the interaction, but instead, his face started to squeeze into something close to a smile, his eyes crinkling and the corners of his mouth lifting. A pop from down the hallway shuttered the expression before it could become fully formed. A shout cut through the air just as Persephone appeared between Ronan and Adam as though materializing from thin air. Her impossibly long, white hair clung to the sleeves of their sweaters with static friction as she shoved them with surprising strength into a closet. 

Her voice was still serene and airy despite the sudden tension settling on everyone’s chests. “Wait for the all-clear.” And the door shut with a thunk behind her. 

Adam leaned his head against it with a sigh, before very rapidly remembering that they were two high-profile targets in a possible active shooter scenario and doors weren’t exactly safe. He scrambled backward, accidentally knocking into Ronan and sending them tumbling into the wall. Of all the closets to be unceremoniously shoved into, they had to be stuck in one barely large enough for the brooms stacked to his right. 

“Can you stop falling into me, please?” came Ronan’s voice, taut with something close to fury but probably closer to anxiety.

“But you love it so much,” Adam bit out, trying to backtrack. Ronan’s face had somehow ended up in Adam’s hair, and he could feel Ronan’s long lashes close, paired with a troubled exhale. Adam managed to extract himself from Ronan and slide against one of the walls, crouching beside something he suspected was a bucket. Ronan followed his example, leaning against the opposite wall until he slid to the ground. Adam couldn’t see Ronan very well, but judging from the faint rustling sounds of buzzed hair against cotton and quick, deep breaths, he wasn’t handling the situation very well.

“This is a new one,” Adam said. “Assassination attempts, I mean. Is this common for the royalty?”

“Shut up,” Ronan said, his voice faint from his position closer to the ground.

“I’m blaming you if we die, you know.” When he received no response, Adam continued. “I probably could have made it at least a couple more years. No one’s ever tried to shoot me before. Guess I’m not important enough on my own. Who knew our fake friendship could be so deadly?”

“Fuck off,” Ronan replied, his breaths still deep.

“I’d love to, mate,” Adam said, forcing faux-jolly British inflection into the last word, “But we’re stuck in this closet for the foreseeable future, or until we get shot.”

“I meant shut up before that happens.”

“What, you’re not keen on life-threatening scenarios?” Ronan didn’t respond, and Adam felt a bit of genuine concern leak into his other thoughts. “Are you doing alright? I thought you of all people would be used to this.”

“Not keen on tight spaces,” he grit out, his teeth likely bared in that dangerous way that made Adam’s hands curl into fists. “Now fucking stop for a minute.”

They sat in silence, nothing but their breaths filling the space between them. The silence must have started to grate on Ronan because he broke it first.

“It doesn’t happen all the time, you know.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m telling you.” Ronan breathed something that sounded like dumbass. “Once, when I was small and out in public with my father. Declan was there, too. I can’t remember much of it. That’s the only other time.”

“Suppose it’s as good a story as any,” Adam said, his voice just a hint louder than Ronan’s whisper had been. “Glad I can hear it trapped in this minuscule closet with you.”

“You’re the one with the foot digging into my hip, not the other way around.”

“Where the hell am I supposed to put it, Your Highness?” He nudged his foot and Ronan surged forward, clamping a hand around Adam’s mouth and the other clenching in Adam’s collar, practically hovering above where Adam stretched out uncomfortably. Adam much preferred this almost-fighting to their pretending to be friends.

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to die today.” Adam tried shifting to free himself, but Ronan had a firm grip and he couldn’t gain any ground. Instead, he licked Ronan’s palm, and Ronan was quick to drop his hand in disgust with a quiet noise of discontent. He found himself pinned with one of Ronan’s glares, the intensity tangible even in the dark.

“I don’t want you to die either, you sodding idiot. I’m not the only one in here. You talking is ruining both of us.” “Clearly you’re not, this might actually be comfortable without you and your ridiculous, showy muscles. But I didn’t realize you cared, sugar,” he said, thinking fleetingly of his mother, “if I was breathing or not.”

“Right now, your life is tied very closely to mine, and so I do.”

“Sweet as honey,” Adam taunted, thickening his drawl. Most of the time he tried to school his words into something a little more Northern, but he enjoyed the way the southern accent bothered Ronan.

“No peace, none at all,” Ronan muttered. “Not even in the looming face of death.”

Adam could have said the same, really. The last thing he expected to see from Ronan while shoved into a dark closet with him was any genuine emotion. But the stories, the fear in the enclosed space, the story of his father-

His father. Of course. 

“Was that story from your father?” He asked, although he already was sure of the answer.

Ronan’s response clipped. “Yes.”

His conscience was still mostly intact, and so Adam began to feel a little bad for picking a fight while in a stressful situation and then bringing up Ronan’s grief. “You’re a good storyteller.” Ronan’s silence was judgemental and disbelieving, so he persisted. “What, I can’t give a compliment? You are.” 

“My siblings and I had stories read to us like everyone else, Parrish. We’re not programmed, bland colonialism robots.” A pause. “Well, Mathew and I aren’t.”

“Of course not, imperialism comes first.”

“You’re welcome for the country, then.”

A brief silence followed. It felt, inexplicably, like the two of them had been toeing a line ever since Adam stood outside of Ella’s door and heard Ronan speak to her. They were inching closer with every word spoken.

“My father was the real storyteller,” he admitted, and Adam internally marked another inch traveled. “Since he was an actor and all. He always told us those stories even though he wasn’t technically supposed to. I just...imitate.”

“Imitate?”

“Yes,” Ronan said, providing no other explanation. “Why do you give a damn, anyway? You don’t want childhood tales and neither do I. You hate me.”

“We’re stuck like this forever,” Adam admitted. He’d known it before, but speaking the words made them feel more real. “Neither of us likes it, but here we are, shoved in a closet together. We have to pull off this act for the rest of our lives, Ronan, and I need something more than a cheat sheet your PR team slapped together.”

Ronan was eerily still for a long moment before he finally spoke. “Then why do you hate me?”

The question caught Adam off guard. “What?”

“Why do you hate me?” Off of Adam’s wary look, he threw the words back in his face. “We’re stuck together just like you said. I need some kind of answer.”

Adam sighed, acquiescing. “Do you remember what you said in Rio?”

“The fuck are you talking about, Parrish?”

“The Olympics?”

“When you threatened to push me into the River Thames?”

“No. You being a condescending dick at diving finals.”

Ronan was still for a long moment before bringing a hand to his shoulder and easing himself back away and off of Adam. “Oh. Shit.”

“So. You remember?”

“Vaguely.” A pause, elongated in the dark. “You heard?”

“Yes.” 

“So that did it, then?”

“Yes.”

But Ronan must have known he had more to say because he stayed silent. 

“I probably would have hated you no matter what,” Adam finally admitted, some low part of his gut feeling heavier with the admission. “It’s just - I wasn’t even the First Son then, and everyone was already comparing us. And it didn’t matter if they thought I was better or you were better or whatever, it was just - the idea of you bothered me, a white boy born with the power to make such change and unquestioning support from millions who was throwing it all away instead. And I’ve been compared to a shit ton of people in my life, from my mother to Blue and Gansey to just - everyone, but somehow with you, it was always the worst. So yes, it was the diving finals.”

“But it was also you being self-conscious?”

“But it was also you being an asshole.” 

“Yeah, it was,” Ronan admitted lowly, and Adam blinked at the admission. “I was - I definitely was one. I think I was one all the fucking time back then. It doesn’t excuse anything, but my father passed on...not long before, if you can understand.”

Adam didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, but he nodded all the same. He felt something in his throat tighten. “Of course. I don’t think I’d realized.”

“It doesn’t excuse it,” Ronan repeated. “I’m sorry.”

This was something heavier, truer than his other apologies - something beyond deeply-ingrained politeness that allowed him to apologize for petty things. It was as though he genuinely asked for forgiveness, like Adam had any real choice in the matter, like Adam’s forgiveness was something Ronan actually wanted. Adam never expected to receive a genuine apology from the Prince of England.

“I appreciate it. And I’m sorry as well. For...not realizing.” Ronan’s figure visibly relaxed even though it was barely visible.

“So, depressing Irish stories. Is that your default?”

“I’m afraid the Irish don’t have a lot of serotonin-filled stories.”

“There’s the English in you,” Adam said to a breathy laugh from Ronan. “Do you remember any more?”

“Probably couldn’t forget them, if we’re being honest. And not speaking to the press.”

“They hate me at the moment, so you have nothing to worry about.” He paused before he continued. “Would you tell one?”

“...why?”

“I don’t know. We’re stuck in here, aren’t we?”

“Be careful what you wish for. I’ll write you in as a Celtic witch.”

“I always thought I’d make a very dashing villainous magician. If that’s the price to pay, I can live with it.”

Ronan was silent, and Adam thought that he had given up on any conversation. However, he spoke again, his voice oddly light. “Once, the fierce Fianna believed in many things, none as much as the beautiful Eden laying in the Western Sea. Tir na nÒg, it was called, and the name passed between them like a secret.” Suddenly breaking character, Ronan said in his normal whisper, “That means “land of the living” for any uneducated parties.”

“Dick. Go on.”

There was something captivating in this new way Ronan spoke paired with the near-darkness and tight space of their closet. “Fionn, the leader of the Fianna-”

“Great naming process, by the way.”

“Shut the hell up or no story.”

Adam shut up.

“The leader of the Fianna led them to hunt the deer along the shores in County Kerry, including his son, Oisín. But Oisín soon caught sight of a single, bright light in the distance, all the way through the thick green of tree foliage. As it drew closer, he saw that the light was, instead, a beautiful girl with hair of spun gold astride a snow-colored mare. When Fionn inquired as to who she was, she informed them that she was Niamh of the Golden Hair, daughter of the King of  Tir na nÒg, and she had come to take Oisín as her husband-”

Ronan cut off abruptly, and Adam almost asked why, but a moment later he heard the source of the silence - heavy footsteps outside the door. Suddenly, neither of them breathed, instead choosing to sit in total petrified silence.

And slowly, mercifully, the door crept open, spilling cold white light along the floor of the cupboard and across their splayed legs. Persephone stood in the doorway, her expression relaxed once again.

“False alarm,” she said breezily, reaching out her hands to haul them back to their feet. Adam shifted uncomfortably on pins and needles as his legs shot back to life. “Fireworks, not guns.”

“Fireworks in a hospital?”

Persephone shrugged. “It was some teenager.”

“Always is,” Ronan said, dangerously close to a joke. He blinked rapidly, setting his shoulders back to stand at his full height. He slanted a look towards Adam, his mouth curving into something wicked but not intimidating, all bark and no bite. “Bonding is over, then.”

“Thank God.”

[jimmymcgools]

From ch 17, "Through his airplane window once, Albuquerque had looked like an afterthought, dwarfed by the sky." all the way to the absolutely perfect ending! (since I'm about to chonk on this chapter 🥰❤️)

♥️💙♥️💙 thank you so much! this one got long, wow 

fic commentary meme and my answers

i am WEAK for an indulgent callback and this ending is the most indulgent and callbacky thing i’ve ever done. i really hoped it would give the chapter a sense of closure and finality -- or at least that’s the excuse i gave myself to go absolutely ham. 

Through his airplane window once, Albuquerque had looked like an afterthought, dwarfed by the sky.

i didn’t do it deliberately at the time i wrote chapter one, but at some point i noticed that interesting quirk of jimmy’s very first observation of abq. it’s all sky and mountains and nothing of the actual city: “Albuquerque makes a disgustingly beautiful first impression: the sky as big and curved and blue as he’s always heard it can be, streaked with paintbrush clouds.” 

It had looked like something ready to be forgotten

another callback to chapter 1. “Here, the architecture feels almost temporary, as if it’s been carelessly dropped on some enormous play-mat and forgotten.” i always try to use jimmy’s observations of abq to reflect how he feels about himself at that point. 

along with the thought of the heavy suitcases that he’d watched slip and shift in the overhead lockers before takeoff

i don’t think it really stands out enough to be anything, but i was stuck for list items here and i ended up trying to fold in some of that slippin’ jimmy gaze. the idea that maybe he’s not only looking at people to read them / figure out how he could scam them, but looking for these liability insurance $$ payouts waiting to happen. 

... along with the thought of their drive out to O’Hare, Jimmy silent in the passenger seat of the rental car, the radio off and Chuck’s grip tight on the steering wheel. 

oops--just remembered jimmy says chuck’s waiting in a taxi! 

Jimmy had listened to the line ring for what felt like forever, each silver chime spinning a silver thread across the city, winding toward his mother’s living room. 

more damn callbacks! when he thinks about calling his mother in chapter 9: “He imagines a line emerging from the handset, a thin silvery thread spinning off from his room and his street and then out of Albuquerque, crossing over the Sandias and shooting northeastward, over rivers and fields and Dust Bowl states, until finally arriving in Cicero, in his mother’s living room.” 

It echoed through the handset like it was being piped back to him, like the prison phone was just a sick joke, a closed loop, locked inside

so much of acb is jimmy trying to break out of these closed loops 

In a bright and steady voice, or at least his brightest and steadiest, he had said, “Hey, Mom. Something’s happened.”

law offices of james m mcgill, how may i direct your call! 🙂

It seems unfamiliar at first, but then the city starts to take shape, and he thinks he can see the squat skyscrapers of downtown, the geometric cubes that rise from the flat land. 

i wanted this to be the end point of a series, where jimmy’s first impression is the beginning, and him arriving back from cicero is the middle, and now only here is he finally familiar with the city. the next few sentences are kind of a walk through acb -- "squat skyscrapers of downtown” is similar to how jimmy sees the city in chapter 7 when they go to the movies, then we get central avenue/route 66 “historic and neon-glowed”, and then finally the airport on the “desert shore” like in chapter 14. 

Might even see Chuck’s house, still lit by lantern light. 

ofc jimmy’s thinking of the luminarias but the dramatic irony here was too good to pass up 🔥🔥🔥

And in the west now, clouds. As the sun vanishes below the horizon, they become briefly clear, shadowed with lilac and orange, and Jimmy can see their shape by the light on them. 

you’re going to have to forgive me for how damn metaphorical this is gonna get, but thinking of metaphors is one of the big ways i spark ideas for description, and this ending is really just an enormous chunk of description, so 💀

these clouds. these damn clouds. ever since hamlin snr told jimmy to find a space in the world only he can can fit, jimmy’s thoughts have kept returning to that idea -- and his mother’s innocent words, too: “you were really in no shape”. so the idea that, if he can figure out what shape he is, he’ll know which space he can fit.

and throughout the fic when i was stuck on kim description i’d play with light, and the idea of kim being a source of light, like the sun. the fireworks sequence is a big example, where i wanted to make her as bright as the fireworks, or at the holiday party: “Beneath the hanging Christmas lights, she’s luminous.” 

so when i wrote “and Jimmy can see their shape by the light on them” i was thinking about him seeing the shape of himself and therefore his place in the world because of kim. 

... but the clouds only become briefly clear.

(it’s also a little bit of inspired/stolen phrasing from the end of no country for old men: “and i could see the horn from the light inside of it.”)

If he watched for long enough, he thinks that he could also see them moving slowly, driven by high winds.

oh did you think i was done talking about these clouds? ☁️☁️☁️

this from chapter 11: “A display entitled Surviving in a Moving Landscape shows how the dunes can shift almost forty feet a year in places, driven by high winds”

“surviving in a moving landscape” ♥️ i always thought that was a really nice way to look at the characters of bcs. they’re the animals in the dunes having to adapt to survive, but also the dunes themselves. moving slowly because of these intangible forces on them, adapting to the forces, but changing forever for it. 

The winds move through him, too, hollowing him out.

a future callback, i borrowed "hollowing him out” again for chapter 5 of safs, so keep an eye out 👁

In the darkness, the flat land below the Sandias seems to go on forever, black and flickering with dying embers: scorched earth. 

if i had seen this specific image of abq from the sandias before i wrote the chapter, the light on the clouds would’ve been the city lights of abq -- even BETTER than the sunset! look at it! LOOK!

He can even smell them on the wind: the woodsmoke scent of evening

jimmy thinks of night smelling like woodsmoke on their drive along route 66, and then again on the forecourt of clines corners. bringing that back here with the idea that it’s coming from those imaginary fires of the city lights. 

And he thinks that his whole life since arriving in Albuquerque has been like a controlled burn: searing away the silk shirts and the fake Rolexes and the ice of Michigan Avenue until nothing remains—breath on a cold mirror vanishing—a blank slate. 

(peter griffin voice 👉AHH, AHH, 👉THERE IT IS)

the end here is inspired by this from “how to embrace a swamp creature” by tmg:

Alone with your bathroom mirror Try to get my head straight Breathe on the glass and wait for it to clear Clean slate

Burned back and clean. So he thinks about what he could build. 

jimmy thinking very much like kim here, and especially what she said in the last chapter about the desert being sterile. 

He thinks about his brother on a park bench, surrounded by luminarias. He thinks about a paper-wrapped book with fourteen words inside it.

i really wanted there to be some of chuck in this moment, even though i’ve ended up in such a shippery/kim place. 

He thinks of letting her move against him, move over him, move around him. Of letting her define the edges of him.

the same idea as the light on the clouds, but hopefully a little more apparent! 😂and more returning images, and the seed planted by kim in the white sands motel. 

there’s something so fragile about jimmy’s realisation here, i hope. he really is still doing so much of this for other people. it’s hard -- there’s something about slippin’ jimmy coming to abq and deciding to *dedicate years and years of his life to becoming a lawyer* that’s just... incredible. i tried to get to a place by the end of this fic where it made sense, and of course we all know he ends up doing it, but -- i always wanted there to be this inspiration from within himself to do it, too, outside of him just doing it to follow kim or to make chuck proud. 

but i don’t think he’s found it here, as much as the shape of himself is briefly visible atop the sandia peak. 

Jimmy wonders if he’s allowed to stay here all night, up on the Sandias. Up on this one high place.

oh jimmy if only you could stay up there forever. hamlin snr voice: perspective!!

He imagines waiting exactly here until the sun returns, until it rises behind him and breaks over the mountains. Like sitting beside Kim on the trunk of her car, their legs pressed together beneath the blanket.

this specific idea of holding off on seeing 🌄morning over the sandias 🌄at the end of chapter 16 came as i was planning that chapter. i was worried that ending with a sunrise would seem too final, seem too much like the ending of the whole story, and that chapter 17 would then end up feeling tacked on. 

Then, the dawn had seemed to reach out close enough to touch them, huge and breathless, warm fingers on his skin.

three rapid fire callbacks in these next sentences. first an inverse of this from chapter 6, when kim takes a cup of coffee from him: “He can feel the ghost of her fingers like sunlight on his skin.” 

And Jimmy had inhaled the colors of it: blue and gold and orange, streaks of brightness across the enormous sky.

then white sands: “as Jimmy inhales the air and the colors he thinks that there could be nothing more opposite of a Cook County jail cell than this exact spot in the middle of the White Sands National Monument.”

Morning sliding over the land. 

and this is so niche and impossible, but it’s “I watch the sun rise over this wall / I watch it break and slide” from “graffiti” by throwing muses, which is on the road trip playlist and shows up in chapter 10 with: “A smile crests Kim’s face like the sun over a wall.” but, you know. callback?

And now he stands on the edge of the viewing platform and he looks out into the darkness of the city. And he imagines it all bathed in light.

i said that i decided to shift the idea of the sunrise here because it felt too much like an ending -- and man, the noise i made when i realised that jimmy imagining the sun rising behind him was jimmy imagining the world before him finally illuminated. 

i also loved the idea of the weird clash of him standing there at sunset, at night, and imagining dawn. 

🌄🌄🌄☁️☁️☁️ thank you so much for asking!! 💙