#by the time i got back in xv smacked me over the head with a fucking lead pipe

[aesadraws]

Of all the Final Fantasy games I've finished and love (which is to say I love all the ones I've finished and even the ones I haven't lol. Looking at you XIV.) why must I always become obsessed with the ones with tragic endings?

XII is the outlier and doesn't count.

[rollingsins]

all hers, part xvi

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: Tara’s not a good patient. You should know this by now. 

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of murder, Smut (18+), vaginal fingering, pussy-eating, face-sitting. Sweet!sex, bottom!Tara if you squint.

word count: 3.8k

a/n: bringing back sexy-time, because poor Tara needs a break. as always, thanks for all the love :))

Tara’s not a good patient. You should know this by now. 

She whines about not being able to stand up by herself. Snaps when her nurse - Nurse Dawson, suggests a sponge bath. Begrudgingly lets you help her shower. 

She hates the hospital food and refuses to eat Sam’s organic, non-gluten, non-dairy, non-fun pasta-bake when she shows up with it. Instead, she orders DoorDash to her hospital room  three nights in a row. 

And on the fourth night, when the doctor tells her she has to stay another night, her fist curls, daggers in her eyes. 

“You know why they’re doing this?” She says, voice hot as the slew of doctors and nurses leave the room, “It’s a money-grab. The longer they keep me here, the more money they get off of the Insurance payout.” 

“They’re keeping you here because you have a stab-wound in your stomach,” You say, firmly. You smooth her hair out of her face, touch her red cheeks with your fingertips, “And I want you here too. You’re not 100%, baby, you need to rest and recover.” 

“I feel fine,” She complains, with a huff, “Sure, my stomach hurts, but that’s what the Codeine is for, right?” 

You lean in and kiss her, soft. Climb into the hospital bed with her, your head on her shoulder. 

“Why don’t we watch a movie? That always makes you feel better.” 

Tara runs her hand down your arm, presses her lips to your forehead. Then squeezes your side, suggestively. 

“You know what would make me feel better?” She says, voice low, “If you took off all your clothes.”

“I’m sure Nurse Dawson would love that.” You say. 

Her hand catches your wrist, trying to hold you in place. 

“Please.” She murmurs, “My stomach hurts and all I want is for you to sit on my face.” 

“Glad to hear you’re feeling better,” Sam interjects as she enters the room. She has another pasta-bake in hand. 

Your face flames red. Tara's lips purse. 

“If you think I’m eating that-”

Sam shushes her, presses her lips to Tara’s forehead. 

“It’s good for you. Much better than the shit you’ve been eating. I made this one special, regular pasta, just for you.” 

Tara tilts her head, looks over at the pasta suspiciously. 

“It has gluten? And real cheese?”

“Real cheese and extra gluten. I made a kale and apple salad to pair with it-”

Tara groans, tilting her head back to the pillow. 

“Sam, why can’t you just make regular food for regular people?” She complains, but takes a helping all the same. You sit up as Sam hands you a plate, careful not to spill it all over Tara’s bedsheets. 

Sam settles into the seat next to the bed, watching. 

“Ran into the Sheriff in the hall,” She says, “They don’t have any suspects.” 

Sheriff Hicks’ visits had been regular since Tara got hurt. She’d seemed wide-eyed, upset, no doubt seeing Tara in a hospital bed had reminded her of her own missing son. She’d come in three days in a row, hat in hand to deliver the same news. 

The police had no leads.

“I know,” Tara says, mouth full, “She won’t leave us alone, will she, YN? Keeps coming in here asking me to repeat what happened over and over.” 

“She posted extra police on the door,” You say, “There’s five of them now.”

“Each as useless as the next,” Tara says under her breath. She frowns, “Sam are you sure this is real cheese? It tastes like shit.” 

You’d smack her, if you weren’t afraid you were going to hurt her wound. Instead you shoot her a look. 

“Babe.” You chide. 

Sam rolls her eyes. 

“You’re welcome.” She says, then she looks to you, “Where are your parents?” 

“They’ve gone home to shower,” You say, “They’ll be back a little later.” 

“Speaking of people who won’t leave us alone…” Tara mutters. You shoot her another look. 

“Good,” Sam says, firmly, “The last thing you need is to be left alone when there’s a maniac running around.”

She pauses, looks at Tara, seriously. 

“When you get out of the hospital, I want you to come back home. With me.” 

“I’m not going anywhere without YN.” Tara says. She puts her plate to the nightstand, wiping her mouth with her hand. 

“So she can come home too.” Sam says, “Richie’s not there, I’m done with him. I need to be near you, Tara, I need to be able to protect you.” 

Tara looks at you. 

“What do you think? Will your parents go for it?” 

You chew your lip. Your Dad hadn’t let you out of his sight for less than an hour since the attack. He’d bought two more shotguns and an industrial style alarm system the night after it had happened. 

“Probably not,” You say, honestly, “I think he’s seriously contemplating installing iron bars on my window.” 

Tara looks back at Sam and shrugs. 

“Sorry.” 

Sam doesn’t look happy. 

“Fat lot of good all that security did last time,” Sam says, “Ghostface slipped right in. It’s all well and good having an alarm system and a gun, but it’s not enough. You need to have someone who actually knows how to use it.” 

Tara’s hand brushes through your hair. 

“It would be nice to go home,” She murmurs, “Maybe you could talk to your Dad? We have an alarm at the house, and it would be easy enough to buy the same locks he has. Sam’s a good shot and she has a lot of guns.” 

You sigh. The prospect of telling your Dad you’re leaving home four nights after a Ghostface attack scares you a little. 

“I can try,” You say, voice resigned. If for nothing else but for poor Sam. You can’t imagine not being in the same house as Tara, not being there to protect her if needed. You know Sam must be going out of her mind. 

“Thank you.” Sam says.

-

“No.” 

You blink. You’d taken your Dad out into the hallway when he’d come back. Told him there was something you needed to tell him. And then not even got halfway into your sentence when he interrupted you. 

“But Dad-”

“If you think I’m letting you go anywhere that isn’t school, you’re out of your mind.” He says, voice stern, “In fact, I’m half considering pulling you out of school all together. Mom googled some good home-schooling courses last night.” 

“Dad, Sam is really worried about Tara,” You plead, “Really worried. Tara said she has an armory at the house. We’d be safe there with her.” 

“The answer is no, YN.” He says, sounding aggravated, “If Tara wants to go home and be with her sister, that’s her choice. But you’re not going anywhere."

You stare. 

“I’m eighteen, Dad, you can’t tell me what to do anymore.” 

He stares back at you. It isn’t often you challenge him like this. You can see the wheels behind his eyes turning, like if he’s not careful you’ll storm off and never come home again. His jaw clenches, then he looks over to Sam and Tara.

He sighs.

“Look - I’m happy for Sam to come stay with us for a few days, if she’s really worried. We can make up the guest room.” He offers. 

You know it's as good as you're going to get.

And so it’s settled. 

Sam accepts, almost immediately. The promise of being near enough to Tara to keep her safe, alluring. She leaves that night to pack, promising to be back in the morning to help bring Tara home. 

When she returns, it’s to you and Nurse Dawson trying to fight Tara into a wheelchair. 

“Baby, it’s just to the car.” You say, hands firm as you lower her into it. Nurse Dawson, she’d fight, but you? She settles for crossing her arms like an angry child. You press a kiss to her forehead, and let Nurse Dawson wheel her outside.  

“This is ridiculous.” Tara grumbles the entire way down, “I can stand, I’m not an invalid.”

“Hospital policy.” Says Nurse Dawson, cheerfully. She’s in a better mood than you’ve seen her in all week, no doubt relieved her moody, pouty, storm-cloud of a patient is finally being discharged. She turns to you. 

“Make sure to clean the wound once a day, like I showed you. Redress and make sure she doesn’t engage in any strenuous activity. If there’s any redness or swelling, bring her right back in.” 

You nod. 

Nurse Dawson squeezes Tara’s shoulders, helps her up into the car, Sam at her other side. 

“I can do it,” Tara snaps, retracting from both of them. She slumps down into the back seat, wincing as she hits the fabric too hard. Her hand draws to her wound. 

You climb into the other side of the car, reach over to help her put on her seatbelt. 

“Say thank-you.” You mumble, look pointed as Nurse Dawson hovers by the car door.

Tara huffs, looks over to the Nurse. 

“Thank you.” She says, not sounding like she means it at all.

-

Sam takes to your family home like a moth to a flame. 

She helps your Dad set up his new security equipment. Trudges in a small suitcase full of guns and offers him a pistol in lieu of his shotgun. She helps your mother make dinner - to Tara’s horror - and even clears the plates, trying to wash the dishes before your Mother shoos her upstairs. 

You help Tara settle into one of the kitchen stools and grab a dishcloth, pulling out Sam’s pre-made vegan cheesecake from the fridge. Tara makes a face.

“Sam is a lovely girl,” Your mother gushes, arm deep in dishwater, “Why haven’t we met her before?” 

Tara crosses her arms, frowning slightly. Pout on her lips. She’s been like this all dinner. Withdrawn. Glaring at Sam from across the table each time your Dad offers her the faintest of compliments. 

“She’s fine.” Tara says, voice loaded, “Other than the drugs and the huge drinking problem-”

“Tara.” You hiss, as your mother looks back, wide-eyed, “She’s kidding Mom, Sam doesn’t have a drinking problem.” 

“Oh.” Says your mother. She wipes her hands against the dish-towel, “Good.” 

She pauses. Hovers. 

“Excuse me a moment.” 

She leaves the room in a flurry, no doubt to go and hide her bottles of aged-Sherry. You move closer to Tara, flick her hand with your finger. 

“What did you say that for?” You groan, “They like Sam. That’s a good thing.”

“They like her more than me.” She says, pouting, “I’m your girlfriend, not her. They’re supposed to like me the best.” 

“They like you fine.” You lie. She squints, shooting you a look.  

“Who cares what they think, anyway?” You say, wrapping your arms around her waist, “I like you more than her and that’s all that matters, right?” 

She considers this. Smiles, slightly. 

“Yeah. I guess so.” 

You lean down and kiss her. 

-

Sam’s room is just down the hall. 

She wants to sleep in your room, you can tell by the way she keeps hinting to Tara over dessert how much fun their little camping sleepovers in the living room were when they were kids. 

When Sam hovers in the doorway near bedtime, Tara groans and snaps at her to go back to her own room. 

“It’s safer if I’m in here with you,” Sam insists. She has her pistol holstered on her hip and she keeps touching it like she’s ready for Ghostface to jump out at any second, “I can protect you both.” 

“I have a gun too.” Tara waves it about, “We’ll be fine. I’ll yell if I need you.”

“Look how well that turned out last time,” Sam says, gesturing to the bandage wrapped around Tara’s waist. 

“Boundaries, Sam.” Tara grumbles, “We’ve talked about this. I can’t breathe when you’re suffocating me like this.” 

Sam huffs. 

“Fine.” She says, and storms back to her own room in a sulk.

“Finally.” Tara says, falling back into the pillows. She draws you down with her, “We’re finally alone.” 

“And going to sleep.” You say, pointedly, “You need your rest.” 

“I feel fine, baby,” Tara insists, “I feel good. And I missed you.” 

“I’ve been with you this entire time,” You say, eyes fluttering closed as she presses her lips to your neck. 

“I know, but I’ve missed you.”

“Tara-” You protest, slightly, “Your stomach-”

“Is fine.” Tara assures. She draws you down into a languid kiss. Squeezes your hips, trying to tilt you over, “There’s nothing wrong with my mouth.” 

“That I know,” You say, raising an eyebrow, “You’ve been running it all day.” 

Tara pouts. You kiss it away. Then draw your hands down her legs, gently climbing atop her. You've missed her too.

“Promise me you’ll lay back and not move too much. Nurse Dawson said no strenuous activity.” 

She nods, mouth falling open slightly at the way you draw her panties down her legs. 

“Good girl.” You whisper against her lips, and then you’re kissing your way down her body. 

You’re gentle with her, so careful not to touch her wound, or move her in a way that will hurt her. 

Her skin is soft, warm, still slightly reddened from the heat of her shower. You brush your lips down her thighs and then kiss your way to her center. She’s not wet, not yet, so you run your hands over her hips, suck lovingly on her inner thighs. Ghost your lips over her folds until you can see evidence of your efforts. Sticky, wet syrup that coats her entrance. The fruits of your labor. 

“Don’t tease, babe.” Tara says, desperately. She’s on her elbows, looking down at you. You flinch as the bandage on her stomach creases. 

“You promised you’d lay back,” You say, hurrying back up to press her down. She draws you in to kiss her, needy, fingers digging into your shoulders as she slips her tongue between your lips. 

“Come up here,” She says, voice low, “Turn around so I can eat you out.” 

Your stomach flips with arousal. She’s moving up, trying to draw you up over her face. But you resist.

“Your stomach, baby-girl,” You murmur against her lips. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

She huffs. 

“The only thing hurting me is the severe lack of pussy I’ve been not getting for the last four days-” 

“Romantic.” You say, dryly, pulling away from her, “You’ll stay not getting it unless you lie back for me and don’t move. Like a good girl.” 

She bites her lip. Nods, slow. 

You press your lips to hers. Then tilt your way down her body. You stop at her nipples, take them between your lips and suck down until they’re pebbled, hard, and you can feel her wetness against your thigh. 

“Baby.” She groans as you skip right over where she wants you to kiss the inside of her knee. 

“Good girls are patient,” You remind her, drawing her legs over your shoulders. 

She peers down at you, eyebrows raised, “And when have I ever been a good girl?”

She lets out a sharp gasp as you run your tongue along her folds, gently dragging her syrupy wetness up to her clit. Her head falls back onto the pillow, her hands reaching down to clutch a fistful of your hair. Her thighs around your head tighten as you gently run your tongue over her clit. 

Experimental. 

You resist the urge to sigh at her taste. She’s perfect. Sweet and bitter, all at once. You dip down to her entrance, wanting more of it on your tongue. 

You kiss her velvety folds, drag your tongue along her length. Her fingers in your hair are insistent. She presses you down, further into her, writhing only slightly as you take her clit between your lips. 

She likes it harder than this, usually. But you’re slow this time. Gentle. You want to make her cum, softly as you can, without straining her. You want to make love to her. Show her how much you adore her, how glad you are that she's okay.

The way she’s sighing, moans breathy, it seems to be working. 

You alternate between sucking softly on her clit, then swirling your tongue in quiet, gentle circles. It isn’t long before Tara’s moaning out your name quietly, thighs tightening around your head. 

You lick her once more, clean her up, not wanting to waste a drop of her. 

When you kiss your way back up to her body, she’s slumped against the pillows, chest rising steadily. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. You trail your fingertips across her cheek, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

She shakes her head, still a little hazy. 

You look down at her bandage, rub the edges of the fabric, gently. It’s still clean, no blood. You press another kiss to her lips, rubbing her hip. 

“Up here.” She says, trying to pull you up, “I want to go down on you so bad.” She says, breathless. Her hands work down to pull you out of your sleep shorts, tossing your underwear to the side, carelessly. You settle into the spot next to her, take her hand and guide it between your legs. 

“Let’s stay like this,” You murmur, tilting her cheek in your hand, “I want to kiss you.” 

And it's true. You want her as close as possible. You want it to be romantic. You want her lips on you and her fingers inside you. You want to be encompassed by her smell and her taste. You want to be reminded that she's here. She's alive and in your arms.

She complies with a soft nod.

You close your eyes. Her hands between your legs feel like magic. You’re soaked, the way you always got after you went down on her. She rubs her fingers along your slit, coating them in your arousal. You kiss her furiously, sucking down gently on her bottom lip as her fingers work against your clit. 

You groan into her mouth. This, you never got tired of. Kissing Tara, feeling the press of her bare skin against yours. Her lips are as talented as her fingers, her tongue against the seam of your lips flooding you once more as she grazes her fingers upwards, and slips them inside of you. 

The angle is a little awkward, but you don’t care. You rut yourself into her hand, hand around her neck as you kiss. She keeps trying to sit up, you know she wants nothing more than to climb on top of you and fuck you into the mattress. But you hold her down, keep her where you want her. 

You break the kiss as you get close, moan out into the milky skin of her neck. She curls her fingers, then uses her thumb to rub your clit, gently. It hits you like a freight train. You close your eyes, gasp out her name as stars explode behind your eyes. The shock that flushes through you is red, warm. 

You all but collapse into her side, curling a protective arm around her bare waist. She kisses the top of your head, lovingly, then withdraws her fingers. Brings them to her lips and sucks you off them, eyes flashing with arousal at your taste. 

“Now, can I go down on you?” She asks, hopefully. 

You kiss her, “Maybe later, baby.”

She hums, a little disappointed. 

“My belly hurts a little,” She says, voice small. At this, you sit up, concern flashing through your face. 

“Oh, baby.” You say, looking down to inspect the wound, “I am so sorry. I knew it was too soon for this-”

“No,” She says, hurriedly, “That isn’t what I meant. You didn’t hurt me. I just meant I’d feel better if I went down on you, is all.” 

You stare at her for a moment. Then you smack her arm, gently. 

“You’re such an asshole. I was about to go downstairs for more Codeine.” 

“No Codeine needed. Just you,” She pulls you back down to her, eyes wide, pleading, “Please, baby.” 

You sigh. She’s rubbing your arm, big brown eyes wide, the eyes she flashes at you when she wants something. You press down and kiss her. How could you resist her? She’d just been stabbed for you, after all. 

Her hands squeeze your hips. She sits up, tries to push you over onto the bed. Then she winces as it pulls at her wound the wrong way. 

“Shh, baby, just gently.” You say, easing her back against the pillows. 

You press another kiss to her lips. 

“Come up to me,” She murmurs, hands around your thighs. This time you don’t resist. You tilt your body up, shuffle over her head and let her pull you down, hands locked around your thighs like she wants to keep you in place. 

You grasp at the headboard. 

She moans as her mouth meets your clit. Arousal flushes through you at just how badly she wants this. How badly she needs this. 

She doesn’t waste any time.

You’re already soaked, body still thrumming from the first orgasm she’d given you. You close your eyes, tilt your head back as she lovingly sucks down on you, her fingers splayed against your ass, as she’s trying to pull you in as close as she can get. 

You’re embarrassingly close after only a couple of minutes, body flushed red, hands on your own breasts as you ride her face. You cum with a quiet whine, let her lick and suck her way through your orgasm. 

When it’s over, you slump down into the spot next to her, tilting your head into her shoulder. She licks her lips, cleans you off her. And then nudges her nose against yours, pressing the sweetest of kisses against your lips. 

“I love you,” She murmurs. 

“I love you, too.” You say. Kiss her again. 

She’s a little sleepy. You’ve worn her out. You touch her hip, checking on her dressing once more. 

“Does it hurt?” You ask, brushing the strands of dark hair out of her face. 

“It never hurt, I just wanted you to sit on my face,” She admits with a yawn. 

You smile, slightly, entwine your fingers. 

“I know that, genius, you’re hardly Charles Ponzi.”

“Who?” Tara asks, wrinkling her nose. Her eyes droop slightly. You press one more kiss to her lips. 

“Doesn’t matter. Go to sleep.” 

“I’m taking first watch,” Tara says, immediately. 

“You’re taking second watch, because you blew it the first time by not waking me up.” You say, settling into her side, “Go to sleep.” 

She relents, dropping her head to the pillow with a tired hum. 

“We should invite Chad, Liv and Mindy over tomorrow.” She says, voice suddenly weighted, “We need a plan.” 

“We don’t need them to have a plan.” You say after a moment. Mindy’s obsession with finding the killer scares you a little. What if she accidentally stumbled upon the truth? You’d rather keep her out of it. 

“I have a hole in my stomach, and a Sam permanently glued to my side,” Tara grumbles, “If we want to catch this guy, we need them.” 

The weight of reality is back. It’s easy to let it go when it’s just you and her, entwined like this. But the moment you stepped outside this room it fell on your shoulders like an anvil.

You’re not safe, Tara isn’t safe.

Not until you catch the fucker.

[jackrrabbit]

spank bank HCs /// Oikawa, Atsumu, and Kuroo x s/o (18+)

A/N: Been thinking about how the hq boys practice self-love 😏 Kind of a palate cleanser, I want to do this for more characters haha

Tags/warnings: pornography, masturbation, sex, edging, lots of mentions of different porn categories, Kuroo is a little shit, all characters are 18 or older

Oikawa Tōru

Oikawa has a weird relationship with conventional porn. On one hand, he’s a young healthy guy with an equally healthy sex drive, and what can he say, he likes watching girls get pounded

On the other hand, the kind of porn you find on sites like PH is always ugly men fucking beautiful women, and as a pretty boy Oikawa finds it hard to identify with. Like where is the justice??? How is it supposed to be believable that a gorgeous woman in her twenties is really moaning that hard for an aging male pornstar with more hair on his chest than on his head?

So he opts for the perfect alternative: camgirls!

He has three or four different channels that he bounces between. His favorites are the ones that are well-lit, nicely produced, high quality film and lots of eye contact. He never interacts or chats with them though, he’s kind of a lurker

Very very into solo acts and toys. You know those sites that let you control the speed of a girl’s vibrator by donating certain amounts of money? Oikawa lives for those. All his pocket change goes toward camgirls, it’s a real problem

Once the two of you start dating, Oikawa’s sexual needs are mostly sated because…well, he’s got you, and you’re a hundred times hotter than any random girl on the internet. But once in a while it’ll still happen that your schedules don’t line up or you’re on your period or it just doesn’t work out, and he’ll get pent up again

When that happens, he’ll return to his old stand-by channels. It’ll be kinda nostalgic getting off to girls fucking themselves with glass dildos or grinding on vibrators in front of the webcam

But the problem, the problem is that he can’t get you out of his head, and when he’s looking at “jasm1neXXX” doing her cute little striptease, he keeps feeling like he’s betraying you :(

So Oikawa bids a regretful goodbye to his old favorite camgirls, and begins the search for one who looks like you. The resemblance doesn’t have to be perfect, it can be something small—hair that matches your color, a moan that falls into a huff of breath like you do—just enough that he can imagine that she’s you

Definitely never tells you that he gets off to porn. Feels guilty about it even if you wouldn’t care ➳

Miya Atsumu

Kinda the opposite of Oikawa when it comes to porn. His preferences are extremely fuckboyish

Into a little bit of everything. Lesbian, gangbang, bondage, creampie, step-sibling, whatever. You name it, he’s seen it, and he’s probably jacked off to it. The only thing he’s resolutely not into is amateur stuff. Atsumu doesn’t fuck with that low-budget bullshit

Definitely not here for the storyline though—he’ll skip ahead in the video past the setup (seriously, who gives a fuck about why the babysitter decided to spread her legs for the the pizza delivery guy) so he can get to the good part

Into edging. To spice things up a bit if he’s got at least an hour of free time he’ll go through a bunch of different videos, jerking himself off slowly while he watches a pretty girl get wrecked, up until he feels his stomach drop and he’s riiiiight about to cum when he’ll stop. Wait. Let himself fall down a little bit, hold back, drop away from the edge. And start another video just so he can do it all over again

Atsumu doesn’t really know…why he likes edging. It’s very frustrating. It makes him antsy and horny and tense, so he’s not sure why he does it. Once when he was doing it, he got interrupted and couldn’t finish until ages later and it was probably the most unpleasant thing he’s ever felt that wasn’t physical pain. He was seriously this fucking close 👌 to smacking the shit out of the person who interrupted him (it was Osamu complaining that he was sick of getting sexiled for over an hour)

It just…feels good, okay? It feels real good to finally get to cum after he’s been edging. Jerking off every other day can get old, so a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do

Favorite category is probably public sex! The possibility of other people overseeing is so fucking hot

Overall, Atsumu has a pretty high sex drive and feels zero guilt about watching porn. Even if you guys are dating, he has needs and you’re not always around to help with them, so that’s where PH and XV come in

Absolutely not shy about it with you. Legit if he’s watching something he wants to try that he just saw in a porno, he will not hesitate to text you the link and be like “hey watch this n tell me what ya think”

Even if you’re not the type to be appreciative of his porn recommendations, he will still def take notes from what he watches and apply them irl. Atsumu is plenty aware that porn is unrealistic, but he’s more than capable of sifting out the good from the bad, and it helps him be…let’s say creative in bed

Want to know where he learned that new move or that extremely bendy position? You don’t have to wonder. It’s porn. He learned it from porn ◎

Kuroo Tetsurō

Kuroo tends to get in a bit of a dilemma because he likes sex and his sex drive is through the roof, but he Does Not. Like. Masturbating.

He much, much prefers to have sex with a partner—to be fair, who doesn’t?—but Kuroo will take it to an extreme. If he’s not able to see you, he’ll go weeks without touching his dick for any reason that isn’t pissing or washing

Literally...a couple months after you started dating, his family made him come on a three-week vacation to Hawaii and when he came back he complained that it was the worst three weeks of his life

“You were in a tropical paradise getting a tan and you’re acting like it was a war zone. Stop whining.” “But baby, you weren’t there! I was so horny, you have no idea, I thought I was going to die, I thought my dick was going to fall off—“

It gets annoying.

When he gets his hands on you after a decent period apart, he’ll be like “I saved myself up for you baby <3” and you’re like “um, ew, why are you so gross”

If he doesn’t wear a condom with you, be prepared for the fact that he cums a lot. A lot. You’ll be in the shower afterward cleaning up and it’s like, there’s more? There’s still fucking more???

You ask Kuroo once why he doesn’t like jacking off, kind of awkwardly, after a four-round fuckfest that left you too shaky to even hold your hips off the bed, and he pauses for a second to think about it before answering

“Well…imagine you have a choice between two meals. One of them is a gourmet steak from a five-star restaurant, and the other one is…hm, a McDonald’s hamburger. You can have the burger whenever you want it, but the steak is only available once in a while because it’s rare and you have to appreciate it when you have it. Which would you choose?”

Okay, fine. That’s kind of cute

It’s less cute when you guys are apart and Kuroo gets really desperate, desperate enough that you get 6 texts in a row from him at 1 in the morning implying that he’s in some kind of dire emergency

“babe”

“BABE”

“911”

“🆘❌⚠️🆘”

“please I need ur help it’s important”

“call me asap”

You call him all frantic, asking him if he needs you to call the cops or something. Is he in trouble? Hurt? Is there a home invader threatening his life?

Nope, he’s totally fine, he’s just horny and wants to have phone sex. That son of a bitch

If you tell him off badly enough, Kuroo will relent and make do without you. He will, however, request nudes to help him through this difficult time

Send thoughts and prayers instead ✷

[whumpwriterforlife]

Could I please request shaking and shivering with Cor? Your writing is so good!

Yes you can! Here you go, shaking and shivering with young Cor!

Shaking and Shivering

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Cor Leonis, Regis Lucis Caelum, Clarus Amicitia, Weskham Armaugh & Cid Sophiar

Whumpee: Cor Leonis

Word count: 3790

Warnings: Sickfic

Can be found on ao3 here

-----

“Wakey, wakey, Sunshine,” Clarus’ voice broke through the sleepy haze surrounding him and then there was a foot nudging him.

Cor grumbled and buried himself deeper into his sleeping bag. His head felt stuffy, his body aching in a way that made him want to do nothing but close his eyes and drift off again.

It was a luxury Clarus didn’t grant him.

Suddenly the world tilted, eliciting a startled yelp from Cor as he scrambled to hold onto the sleeping bag as Clarus dragged him out of the tent by the foot-end of the sleeping bag.

“Hey! You’re buying me a new one if this one gets torn!” He ended up sounding more whiny than anything as he swore at the Shield. Clarus dumped him in front of the fire unceremoniously and laughed as Cor tried — and failed — to smack him. Cor pouted.

“Ah, just in time for breakfast,” Weskham said from somewhere to his left, and Cor turned his head to see him walk over with a bowl of something in his hands. “Here, have some.”

Cor quietly accepted the bowl and peered down at its contents. It was oatmeal with nuts and fruit toppings. Normally he would have been ecstatic about it — it was definitely better than the weird sludge-like ratios they sometimes had — but he didn’t feel hungry this time. He poked some of the fruits with a spoon. Knowing Weskham, or any other of those damn motherhens, they wouldn’t let him get away with skipping the meal. With a resigned sigh, Cor shuffled his way out of the sleeping bag. He instantly missed the warmth of it as he settled down on one of the chairs surrounding the fire.

Regis gave him a curious look from across the fire but said nothing as he dug into the oatmeal. Cor pulled his legs to his chest, ignoring the dirty look Weskham sent his way at that, and slowly started working his way through the oatmeal. At least it was warm if nothing else.

“You’re looking awfully pale this morning. Are you feeling alright, Cor?” Weskham asked as he sat down in the chair next to him.

“I’m fine,” Cor replied and rolled his eyes. It was just a bad day, a minor cold at worst. There was no reason to worry the others with it when he could handle it.

“Are you sure?” Regis asked. “You do look off today.”

Weskham seemed to take this as an invitation to reach over to touch Cor’s forehead. Cor slapped his hand away and sunk deeper into the chair with an unhappy grumble. “Leave me alone. I’m fine.”

Clarus’ eyes narrowed. “Cor...”

Regis put his hand on Clarus’ arm and shook his head. “Let’s finish eating. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Fine,” Clarus said and shrugged off Regis’ hand before going to get himself breakfast.

Cor stayed silent as they finished eating, barely even greeting Cid as the man appeared from who knows where. He scooted his chair slightly closer to the fire as a shiver raked through his body. It was late Fall, the beginning of the Winter really, and he blamed it on that. He still didn’t have a thick jacket, partly because it was a hindrance in a fight but also because of the cost. Hopefully they would get to the warmer parts of Lucis soon so he wouldn’t have to worry about getting one.

“What’s the plan for today?” Cor asked when the last of the bowls had been put away. They were all still sitting around the fire, watching as the sun rose higher in the sky.

“Well, while you were still sleeping and wasting daytime, Clarus and me went over to a local tipster and got ourselves a few hunts. Nothing too bad but enough to pay for Regalia’s repairs,” Cid told him and sent a glare in Regis’ direction at the last part. Cor snickered. It was the second time Regis had wrecked the Regalia since they had left Insomnia.

“Oh give it a break, Cid, that was hardly my fault,” Regis huffed and got up from his chair.

“You hit a parked car,” Clarus pointed out as he watched Regis disappear into the tent. “The only other car on the lot.”

“It shouldn’t have been parked there!” Regis protested.

“Whatever you say,” Clarus shook his head with a smirk.

Cid looked at the two of them for a moment before rolling his eyes. “The first job is to take care of a pack of saberclaw. According to the map, it takes thirty minutes to drive there and another thirty to hike to their last known location. From there, we’ll head towards Malmalam Thicket for our second hunt.”

“What’s the second hunt?” Cor asked, half dreading the answer. He had hoped the day would be easy, one he could spend sitting in a car, but of course that couldn’t be the case. At least, if he had done the math correctly, he would be able to get a few hours of sleep on the drive to Malmalam Thicket.

“Seadevils,” Clarus told him with an unsettling grin. He was just as much a daredevil as Cor was, even if he was better at hiding it. “Should be fun.”

Cor suppressed a groan. Neither hunt would be exactly easy and there would be no room for slip ups. He got up from his chair. “Right.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Weskham clapped his hands together and nodded. “We should all pack up so we can be on the road as soon as possible.”

Cor grabbed his sleeping bag from the ground and vanished it into the armiger without even bothering to roll it up. He got a few weird looks for it but ignored them as he went to grab his things from the tent.

“I’ll just go wait by the car.”

“No you don’t,” Clarus said and grabbed him by the back of his jacket before he could leave the haven. “It’s your turn to take down the tent.”

Cor yanked his jacket out of Clarus’ grip and glared at the man. Clarus glared right back at him.

This was going to be an awful day.

----

Cor felt like death warmed over. His feet felt leaden as he tried to keep up with everyone else as they hiked towards the Maidenwater Bridge and the second hunt of the day. He buried his face into the crook of his elbow to suppress a cough. Fortunately he was far enough behind the group that they didn’t notice. His condition had only worsened throughout the day. He was cold, frozen to the bone. He was wearing two long-sleeves and the thickest jacket he had — which admittedly wasn’t all that thick — but he was still shivering. His head felt stuffy and he was having a hard time focusing on anything. None of this was exactly good when hunting.

Cor was still committed to making it through the day. What kind of ‘guard would he be if he couldn’t do his job because of a little cold? There were so many people that doubted him, that were just waiting for him to fail and fall, many of them his fellow Crownsguards. He wasn’t going to give them that satisfaction which meant he would just have to power through the rest of the day, one way or another.

“Eos to Cor!” Cor’s head jerked up and he saw Clarus looking at him over his shoulder. The Shield gave him a pointed look. “Keep up, we’re almost there.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Cor rolled his eyes but took off in a jog to catch up to the guys.

He hoped the Seadevils wouldn’t put up too much of a fight. He had heard of them and knew roughly how they acted when engaged but he had never actually fought them. At least the Saberclaw pack hadn’t given them much trouble. No curatives had been used and no one had gotten injured. Well, no one if they didn’t count Regis tripping over a tree root when they had been on their way back to the Regalia. That had been hilarious.

They soon arrived at the bridge. It didn’t take long for them to see the Seadevils. There were five of them just chilling on the shoreline on the other side of the river. Cor pressed his lips into a thin line. They were larger than he had expected. Still manageable but more annoying.

“Well those look vicious,” Regis remarked dryly.

“Those jaws look like they’d have no trouble snapping any of us in half,” Weskham nodded as he scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I suggest we all exercise caution when approaching these creatures. Regis, my research indicates they’re weak to ice elemancy.”

“Excellent,” Regis grinned and Cor glanced at him just in time to see his hands flash light blue. Clarus patted him on the shoulder with a laugh and summoned his broadsword. They were both way too excited about this hunt. Cor would have most likely been right there with them, all ready to fight, if he hadn’t been feeling like shit.

“Let’s get this over with before sundown, don't wanna be stuck out here when the daemons come out,” Cid told them, sounding as grouchy as ever as he started crossing the bridge. Clarus grabbed Regis and was quick to follow him.

Cor sighed, pulling out his katana from the armiger as he walked after the trio. He only made it a couple of steps before there was a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to see Weskham looking at him with worry. “Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Weskham asked him. “You’re all pale and don’t quite seem to be your usual energetic self today. If you need to-”

“I’m fine, Wesk,” Cor told him, more forceful than he needed as he pulled away from the man. He needed to see this through and could rest when they were back at camp. “The others are going, I don’t want to fall behind.”

Weskham pressed his lips together, clearly less than happy with Cor, but said nothing. Cor took that as his cue to pick up the pace to catch up to everyone else.

Regis and Clarus had already thrown themselves into the fight like the adrenaline junkies that they were and Cid wasn’t far behind them with his trusty spear. Cor jogged down to the shore, ignoring how lightheaded and out of breath it made him feel as he attacked the Seadevil closest to him.

He let his training and instincts take over from there, striking and slashing wherever he could as he avoided ending up a snack. The teeth on those things were large and sharp. If that wasn’t enough, they also shot water out of their mouths with pressure that would easily knock any one of them over. Cor hissed as he twisted out of the way when one Seadevil lunged at him, its jaws snapping shut with a downright terrifying snap. He staggered, barely managing to keep his balance. Adrenaline was a huge help, possibly the only thing keeping him upright at this point, but he was lacking his usual finesse.

It became even more evident when he was forced to evade yet another attack. He staggered, the sleeve of his jacket getting torn in the process as he yanked it out of the beast’s maw. A hand on the shoulder stabilized him, and he craned his neck to see Cid behind him.

“You need to be more careful, kid,” Cid told him. Then he was off, back into the fight.

Cor shook his head and muttered a curse under his breath. He was starting to feel a hint of frustration at how badly he was performing.

“Cor!”

Cor spun on his heels at Clarus’ shout but a heavy weight collided with him before he could see the situation. He gasped, his foot catching on a rock as he tried and failed to recover his balance. His katana disappeared in a flash of blue, a startled yelp escaping his lips as he fell into the freezing cold water.

He gasped for breath. The icy water soaked through his clothes in an instant. He couldn’t breathe. Cold. It was so cold. His whole body felt stiff, and he tried to push himself onto his elbows to get out of the water but they gave out from beneath him. He was shivering worse now.

“Regis get him out of here!”

There was sloshing as someone ran into the water and cursed at the coldness of it. A moment later there were hands propping Cor into a sitting position. Regis said something, his eyes tight with concern as he looked at him but Cor was too busy catching his breath to register the words. Regis threw his sword and his grip around Cor tightened. The world lurched in and out of focus and Cor’s stomach churned dangerously. Then they hit the ground by the bridge, away from the fight.

Cor screwed his eyes shut, a strained noise slipping from his lips as he shivered violently. “Regis-”

Regis pulled him into a better position and started tugging off his jacket. “We need to get you out of these wet clothes.”

“But- but the h-hunt,” Cor pointed out. He was still struggling to catch his breath, his teeth chattering together.

“The others can take care of it, we need to make sure you won’t get hypothermic.” Regis stated sternly and threw Cor’s jacket aside. Cor frowned softly, almost tempted to whine as he looked at the rock pile where his jacket landed. It was his best jacket and Regis had just thrown it away like it was nothing. Cor was about to turn and tell him to fetch it but he was overtaken by a coughing fit. He whimpered.

“Cor, look at me.”

Cor’s gaze flicked over to Regis, only to flinch when he reached over to touch his forehead. He tried to move away but his stiff muscles refused to obey him.

“Shit, you’re burning up,” Regis cursed as he pulled his hand away. “Have you been sick this whole day? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“It’s nothing,” Cor shook his head, regretting it when he was hit by a dizzy spell.

“It’s clearly not ‘nothing’!” Regis retorted. He ran a hand through his hair and muttered something unflattering under his breath. “Astrals, that explains a lot. We just thought you were mad at Clarus for what happened in the morning.”

Cor made a confused noise.

Regis sighed. “We’ll talk about this later. We still need to get you out of those wet clothes and away from here.”

The good thing about the armiger was that it made carrying items easy and was always accessible. Regis helped Cor out of his wet clothes quickly and into a pair of warm sweats and a coat he happened to have lying around — floating around? — in the armiger. Cor had tried to tell him he could do it on his own but the way he was shaking told Regis otherwise.

“How’s the kid?”

Cor looked up to see the rest of the guys walking over to them, having taken care of the Seadevils.

“The ‘kid’ is right here.” He glared at them but the effect was ruined when another shiver shook his frame.

“He’s running a fever,” Regis said. “Been sick the whole day most likely if not longer.”

“Could you guys stop talking like I wasn’t here?”

“You what?” Clarus asked, brow furrowed as he looked at Cor. “Is that true?”

Cor shrugged. It was no use hiding the truth anymore. “Yeah, but it’s-”

“And you didn’t think to tell us? Do you realize how stupid that was!” Clarus exclaimed as he cut him off. Cor clenched his jaw and dropped his gaze to the ground as the Shield continued, “Your job is to keep Regis safe and then you just neglected to tell us-”

“Clarus,” Regis admonished him.

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you!” Cor snapped, getting to his feet even as he swayed dangerously. Regis was quick to take him by the arm and stabilize him. Cor didn’t brush him off. “If I had told you, you would have left me behind and been one man short! I did my job, I wasn’t going to let a minor cold take this from me!”

At the end of his tirade, he felt all the energy drain out of him and faltered. Regis wrapped both of his arms around him to keep him from falling.

Clarus opened his mouth to say something but Regis silenced him with a sharp look.

No one said anything for a moment but eventually Cid broke the silence. He shook his head as he glanced at each member of the group. “The sun won’t be up for much longer. We need to find a haven.”

“No, we’re going back to the car,” Regis said as he pulled one of Cor’s arms over his shoulders and wrapped his other arm around his waist. His tone left no room for arguments. “We’re finding a motel for the night.”

“We’ll need to move fast then.” Weskham walked over to where most of Cor’s wet clothes had been discarded and picked them up. “The roads are perilous at night.”

“Right, we should get going then,” Clarus sighed. He crossed the gap between him and Cor, sliding the kid’s hand over his shoulders to support him from the other side.

Cor had a childish urge to push Clarus away after the outburst but he had very little energy left. He shivered, taking a shuddering breath as they started walking. His feet were stiff and sore, as was his whole body, and Regis and Clarus ended up having to support most of his weight. They kept up a steady stream of chatter and made Cor participate so he didn’t fall asleep. At a few points during their trek to the car, they had to stop when Cor got overcome with violent coughing fits that left him unsteady and gasping for air. It was clear that his impromptu river bath had only made his condition worse.

They eventually got to the Regalia, where he was safely tucked to the back seat with Weskham, Regis, and their best-equipped first-aid kit. They denied Cor the warm blanket in it which elicited a barely suppressed whine out of him.

“You have a high fever,” Weskham kindly informed him, as if Cor hadn’t been aware of that before the stupid thermometer had beeped with 39,4 °C. “We need to get your temperature down, not up.”

“I’m cold,” Cor complained as he wrapped his arms around himself.

“You just feel cold,” Weskham replied as he dug through the first-aid kit for something.

“Same difference.”

Regis snorted and patted Cor on the shoulder. Cor pouted. At least one of them was having fun.

A moment later Weskham pushed a water bottle into Cor’s hand and offered him two pills. “These should help lower your fever. Take them and drink as much of the water as you can.”

Cor took the pills as ordered and managed to down nearly half of the water before giving it back to Weskham. He then pointedly ignored everyone in the car, except for Regis and his comfy shoulder that was acting as his makeshift pillow, as he closed his eyes. It didn’t take long for the steady rumble of the car to lull him to sleep.

He stirred an indeterminate amount of time later when a car door slammed shut. His nose scrunched up and he made a soft, disgruntled noise at being woken up. Someone chuckled above him, and it was then that he realized he was not in the car anymore. It took a moment longer for him to pick up on the fact that someone was carrying him. If he had had any more energy, he would have been mortified, but as it was, he could barely crack his eyes open to see it was Regis.

Regis looked down at him, a playful smile on his lips. “Go back to sleep, Cor. We just arrived at the motel.”

Cor blinked at him blearily as his brain registered the words. He licked his lips and frowned. “I can walk.”

“Of course you can,” Regis stated matter-of-factly but didn’t even pretend to put him down. “And I can carry you.”

“Just let him do it, kid,” Cid said. Cor craned his neck to see the man walking a few steps behind them. “Reggie can and will outstubborn you this time.”

Cor huffed. Regis carried him into their motel room and lowered him on one of the beds. He closed his eyes and flopped down on his back, only for his head to snap up a moment later when he felt hands tugging on his boots.

“What are you doing?” “Taking off your shoes,” Clarus said, rolling his eyes.

“I can-” Cor started and went to sit up.

Cid pushed him back down. “Wesk wants you to take it easy, so take it easy.”

“I can take off my own shoes!” Cor grumbled but didn’t try to get up again.

“Let us take care of you for once,” Regis said as he sat down next to Cor. Clarus muttered something about how it would have been nice to have some help with the boots but Regis ignored him. “You’re our brother, we want to help.”

Cor turned his head to look at Regis. He wondered if the fever was making him hear things. “But-”

“But nothing,” Regis cut him off. “You worried us today, Cor. You could have been badly injured. We know you’re as stubborn as can be, but we need you to tell us if you’re sick or injured in any way. Out here we’re on our own and need to take care of each other.”

“I’m sorry,” Cor sighed.

Regis smiled. “It’s okay. Try to get some rest. We’ll wake you up when we have food.”

Cor hummed, eyes falling shut once again. Regis helped him get under the covers and Cor offered no complaints this time. When he felt Regis start to rise, he reached out to grab his arm.

“Regis? About the brothers thing.”

“What is it?”

Cor smirked. “Cid’s old enough to be my grandad…”

There was a crashing sound somewhere in the room, followed by swearing. “How old does that brat think I am?”

“Probably sixty or something,” Clarus muttered in amusement.

“Listen here, Amicitia, I could-”

“Cid! Clarus-” Regis began but the words turned into incoherent mush as Cor drifted off. Hopefully the motel would be still standing when he woke up.

[whumperscorner]

Hello, my dear Rasko. I would like to order a bit of Pinned to the Wall for the bthb, thank you. 👀

Hello, my dear :3 Your whump is here as ordered

With Nyx, because I know you like him :>

BTHB #4- Pinned to the Wall

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Nyx Ulric, Crowe Altius, Libertus Ostium

Whumpee: Nyx Ulric

Word count: 2775

Warnings: None

Can also be found on ao3

The plan had been very simple. In short: infiltrate the building, get the hostages out and defeat the bad guys. The usual. And admittedly the first two steps had gone pretty well, but if Nyx had learnt anything from being a glaive for as long as he had been it was that plans rarely went off without a hitch, even the simple ones. A small team of Nyx himself and a few others had entered the building undetected and assumed position to await further orders. They had been called to go in, which they did, and that was about when things had gone off the rails.

Nyx's eyes scanned through the chaos of the compact hall they were now in, and chaos really was the word for it. Glaives and members of the opposing group scuffling over each other in disarray. Different weapons shooting from every direction, fists and feet hammering against each other, and residual glimmer from warping still hanging in the air. Nyx cursed under his breath; this was a lot more difficult than it should be. It had gone so well up to this point too, the hostages were all evacuated now, but there were more members of the group than anticipated. Some had been disguised as hostages and some flat out hiding around the building. His team was outnumbered, which meant a change of plans. Ducking under a fist thrown his way, Nyx brought his hand up to the comm in his ear and it crackled to life.

"So how long did backup say?" He asked, voice breathy as he swiftly grabbed the arm of the man who'd punched at him and brought him down. He landed hard on the wooden floor as Crowe's voice sounded back over the comms.

"10- maybe 15 minutes?" She said, her voice also slightly strained from the fighting on her own end. "They want to bring these guys in for questioning, so keep them in this room."

Nyx hummed back in affirmation, swirling around in time to see Libertus a good few feet away felling one aggressor, and two more charging at him. Adrenaline rushed through Nyx's veins as he prepared himself, aiming his kukri above the moving crowds to ensure an uninterrupted warp. In one quick throw he was there, bracing himself and taking one of the assailants down with him as he landed. The guy's head smacked hard into the floor, and he stayed down. Libertus let out a bark of a laugh and brought the second one down himself with couple well placed punches.

"Never a dull day at work huh?" Nyx posed, to which Libs shook his head and chuckled a response. Though Nyx could barely even hear that, narrowly ducking as some blurred projectile whirred past their heads. The two exchanged smug grins and a quick handshake, before turning back to the task at hand and warping their separate ways through the mayhem.

Nyx made his way over to the leftmost side of the room, where one of the few exits were, thinking that if their current objective was to keep the group's members contained that would be the best place to be. And he was right. The area was swarmed and the amount of people there, both friend and foe, made it very hard for anyone to get a proper view of anything. Nyx held his own though, even as his breathing quickened and he was starting to get tired, probably bleeding from various cuts and scrapes as well. Having just finished dealing with one of the many foes Nyx turned, but didn't have time to react fully before someone else jumped forward and tackled him to the floor. The back of his head made contact with the hard surface and he groaned, slightly dazed, but gathered himself soon enough. Using the momentum from the person's tackle to roll back and kick them off overhead, Nyx was quick on his feet again. They just had to keep this going until backup arrived, and he was not going to let up before that.

"Oh, we've got a runner!" Libertus' voice sounded through the comms. "Nyx, he's headed your way."

Nyx swirled around to look and sure enough there was a large, burly man quickly making his way through the crowd, eyes fixed on the exit closer to Nyx. Without a second thought, and without acknowledging the aching of his body, Nyx began running. Ducking and evading fists and weapons as he did so. Someone else charged at him from straight ahead and blocked his way, but Nyx didn't stop, throwing the kukri in his right hand across the floor where he saw an opening. It slid along under multiple pairs of feet, some even jumping to avoid getting nicked by the blade, and Nyx warped after it. He landed only a few short feet away from the open exit, just in time to see the man running ahead down the narrow hallway outside of the room.

"Shit, I'm on it!"

"Nyx wait!" Crowe yelled for him through the comms. "Stay with the team, he's-" but the rest of what she had to say was cut off, and Nyx had already taken off down the hall.

His heart pounded in his chest as he ran, and he was getting a bit dizzy. Nyx cursed inwardly at that, maybe that last warp hadn't been such a good idea. He would need to wait a bit before the next one. Nyx caught a glimpse of the man up ahead right as he took a sharp left turn into another room, and he followed suit. It only took him a few seconds to enter the room after the man, and it took him even shorter to realize what a colossal mistake that had been. He saw it right as he crossed the threshold into the room. As if in slow motion, out of the corner of his eye, bouncing a few times on the floor as it rolled towards him. He realized on instinct what it was, and not being able to warp Nyx's eyes widened and he threw himself to the side. The hand grenade went off, and though Nyx had thrown himself as far away as he could in such little time the blast hit him almost head on.

He felt himself being flung through the air, then hit the floor hard. White hot pain shot out from his right shoulder on impact, and the kukris clattered out of his hands and across the floor. The force of the blast sent him rolling for another few meters until he came to an eventual stop. Nyx was breathing hard and coughed as he tried to gather himself. Shit, his shoulder really hurt when he moved, that was never good but especially not now. With considerable effort Nyx staggered to his feet, clutching the shoulder with his other hand. There was a ringing sound in his ears as he tried to steady himself, and it took him a moment to realize it wasn't just from the blast as Crowe's disjointed voice came through the now busted earpiece.

"Nyx! What… as… at?... yx-" then a head-splittingly loud ringing came from it, and with a low curse Nyx removed it and tossed it aside. It wouldn't be of any help to him now anyways, he decided.

He had just began searching along the floor for his kukris, when the man he had followed appeared out of the shadows by the door where he had been standing, and presumably where he had thrown the grenade from. Nyx's body tensed up, despite how much that hurt. Now looking at close range Nyx recognized the man's face from the mission briefing earlier in the day. He was one of the designated leaders of the organization they were fighting now, hostile to the Crown and reportedly a highly dangerous individual. Not to be engaged with alone if Nyx remembered correctly. Well, he thought somewhat bitterly to himself, bit late for that now.

The man approached slowly and carefully, and Nyx retreated in the same way, careful not to lose sight of the man or lose his footing. The he charged, and Nyx let out an involuntary gasp. He was fast, unfairly so, and Nyx's injuries would only hinder him if he tried to fight. So Nyx dove to the side, hissing in pain and trying to roll on landing to minimize any further damage. Then ensued something Nyx could only describe as a horrific kind of dance around the room. With the man on the offense, rushing at Nyx and attacking repeatedly and himself retreating, ducking and evading as fast as he could. Nyx would pride himself on managing to evade this man in particular for as long as he had but he was growing more and more tired, his injured shoulder was getting progressively worse, and at every turn his exit was blocked. There was no way he could keep this up in the long run. Then finally, Nyx thought he could see an opening. Cornered against the far-right wall of the room, Nyx readied himself again and ducked under and to the side of the man.

For one glorious moment he thought he had made it too, then something tugged harshly at his hair and he was yanked back. Nyx felt is back hit the wall behind him hard and let out a pained cry through grit teeth. A hand was quick to grab around his throat, and when Nyx instinctively pushed back against it, sharp dizzying pain shot out from his shoulder.

"As much as I've enjoyed our little cat and mouse game, I'm going to have to end it here glaive." The man started and tightened his grip on Nyx's throat until tears started prickling in the corners of his eyes and the edges of his vision grew blurry. Then something new came over his face and he loosened the grip just slightly. Something Nyx was grateful for as he coughed and wheezed in the grip. It looked almost like a flash of recognition or a realization of sorts had washed over the man's face, and his expression changed. It got somehow more dangerous. Like he had something planned, and Nyx did not like it. Then he spoke again, and his voice was lower, but no less dangerous. "Nyx Ulric. Of course it had to be you of all people giving me trouble, Hero of the Kingsglaive."

Those last words were almost spat at Nyx and his heart picked up its pace, but he was determined not to let that show. "Ah, so my reputation precedes me then!" he spluttered, putting on a defiant smile and somehow managing to sound way more playful and confident than he actually felt. In response the man put his other hand against Nyx's wounded shoulder threateningly, and before Nyx could protest or struggle hot glowing pain exploded down his side and arm. It radiated from his shoulder. Nyx's head jerked back. The smile dropped almost instantly from his face as he shut his eyes tight and groaned. He didn't open his eyes again until the pressure was let up, and the pain had calmed down to an uncomfortable warm throbbing. What met him then was a stone cold, calculated face, with the mouth twisted into a gross pretend-courteous smile.

"Pleasure." The man said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. Then, with seemingly no warning except the slightest twitch to his face the man clenched his free hand into a tight fist and let it collide violently with Nyx's stomach. Nyx's eyes went wide on impact, but he couldn't see, the pain and shock reverberating through him was blinding. Without Nyx even realizing what happened his knees gave out and buckled under him, but the hand around his throat didn't budge. It kept him upright and firmly pinned to the wall as he gasped for air that wouldn't come. His vision was getting blurry, with the man's facial features swirling together into an unclear blob of colour. He felt himself being shook slightly, then a sharp pain across his cheek.

"Oh no no, you don't get to pass out just yet Hero." Nyx heard the man speak as if under water. The voice seemed unclear and far away, and he scrunched up his nose in effort, trying to focus on what was going on. "I can still-"

Then something happened that caught the man's attention, and he stopped talking. The blob that was his head turned. Nyx followed suit and saw more blobs entering the room, blurred swabs of black pooling in from the door. Then multiple things started happening all at once, leaving Nyx no time to be relieved that backup was finally there. Noise exploded through the room. Voices yelled over each other. Nyx was let go of, and with the only thing holding him up now gone he slid unhindered down to the floor, where he stayed. Clutching his shoulder and heaving for breath. Then there were sounds of a fight, and something in the back of Nyx's tired mind told him to get up and join in, but his body wouldn't do what he wanted it to. So he winced and instead opted for trying to gather himself and blink away the blurry edges from his vision.

It worked somewhat, and when two of the blobs broke off from the main blob group's fight and rushed towards him it didn't take him too long to see who it was. And finally, finally Nyx let the tension in his body go, and sighed heavily as Crowe and Libertus reached his side. He offered them both a tired smile and an attempted laugh that was interrupted by a coughing fit.

"Let me look at you," Crowe said as she knelt down next to him, not wasting time waiting for his response before moving Nyx's own hand away from his shoulder and examining it herself. "How is it?"

"Bad." Nyx said, cringing slightly as her hands moved over the throbbing shoulder. "Dislocated maybe?"

"Oh definitely, we're going to have to set it properly before using any potions. Can you manage until then?" Came her answer. Nyx sighed, but nodded. Of course he knew she was right. Crowe kept going, moving on from the shoulder after noticing the blood filtered through Nyx's hair. "And the head?"

"Fuzzy." said Nyx, no point in hiding that. He was managing, but now that the adrenaline was disappearing ignoring the throbbing pain became near impossible. Crowe clicked her tongue and sat back a bit to look him in the eyes.

"Should be fine." She said dryly. The she kept going, deeming Nyx's physical state good enough for her to jab at him. "Now, what was that! The hell do you have to go get blown up for?"

"It's not like I did it on purpose!" Nyx laughed back. He looked up at Libs, who had been watching from the side with a worried crease to his brows, seeking verbal protection of some sort. But his friend just snorted out a laugh and shook his head.

"Jackass." Crowe said, finally letting her expression soften a bit. "Medical team's just outside, can you stand?"

Nyx sucked in a sharp breath. He wasn't entirely sure he trusted his legs to carry him, but he did give it a valiant try. Though as soon as Nyx was standing upright the world started spinning around him and Libertus rushed forward to steady him. They stood still like that for another short moment while Nyx breathed heavily to gather himself before Libertus asked if he was ready to go, and he nodded.

"So what'd you do to make that guy so angry?" Libs asked as they slowly and carefully made their way froward. He gestured his head towards the centre of the room, where the rest of the glaives they'd entered with were working on taking down the man Nyx had fought.

"Well, you know me and my dashing charms." Was Nyx's answer. He sent Libertus a smug smile, to which Libertus groaned and rolled his eyes.

"In that case I'm surprised the worst you got was a dislocated shoulder." He shot back, and Nyx laughed. A genuine laugh despite all the aches of his body.

"Oh, screw you-" He began cheerfully, but another coughing fit interrupted him.

"No, screw both of you," Crowe chimed in. She huffed and shook her head. Though Nyx could swear there was a small smile on her face as she joined in supporting Nyx on his other side, careful not to further aggravate the injured shoulder.

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Part Fifty- Three

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX, XLX, LI, LII

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

Lev put his hands on his hips. Cameron and Ash had done most of the heavy lifting, and Mami and Cameron had gotten the food ready, so Lev really hadn’t done much, but it’d turned out nice, and in the end that was all Lev could ask for, really. They had indeed gone with an ocean theme, to match the nursery, and since despite Lev’s efforts to help in some way or another, Cameron had been in charge of everything and took little input, it was all rather tasteful.

Lev fussed with the placement of the snacks, even though he knew Cameron was going to come along behind him and fix it again. He felt useless, especially with Ash reminding him to not push himself.

As expected, Cameron appeared, smacking Lev’s hand away. “Knock it off,” Cameron reprimanded. “The others should be arriving soon.”

“Is Biela coming?” Lev asked. They’d sent an invite; it’d’ve been rude to not. To Lev’s knowledge, she hadn’t responded.

“Likely not. She’ll probably send Caius in her stead.”

“Mm.” Lev had liked Caius, the one time he’d met him. He was pretty. And seemed kind. Friendly, at the very least.

Cameron lifted a brow, and grabbed Lev’s hand when Lev reached to adjust a platter of pastries. “If you don’t leave it alone, I’ll make you go baby sit Nik.”

Lev opened his mouth to argue, but Nik himself had appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. “What’s the party for?” the pregnant omega mumbled.

“You,” Lev grumbled, making his way over to Nik. At least he was allowed to fuss over Nik, and he did so with a tiny spark of pleasure, pressing a kiss to Nik’s cheek and brushing his green and black hair from his eyes. “You’re not supposed to be awake yet. It was gonna be a surprise.”

Nik frowned sleepily at Lev. “I had to pee,” Nik complained bitterly.

“We’ve been planning for a week,” Lev informed him, before brushing his cheek lightly. “Oh well. Now I don’t have to figure out a way to get you dressed.”

“Planning what for a week?” Nik muttered. “My birthday isn't until next week.” He pulled a face. “And I can’t even get drunk.”

“Your baby shower,” Lev said, guiltily tucking away Nik’s birthday to worry about later.

“My what?”

Lev sighed, and started herding Nik out the door. He could practically feel Cameron rolling his eyes at him. “Your baby shower. Did you think I would let you get away without one?”

Nik shrugged. “I didn’t even think about it.”

With another sigh, Lev slid his arm around Nik’s waist. “I wasn’t going to not give you one. We invited your brothers. Both of them. You deserve it.”

Nik made a face at him.

“Come on. Let's get dressed,” Lev said, bonking his shoulder with Nik’s.

---

Nik let Lev lead him back to the bedroom to get clothes. He hadn't really thought much about clothes lately and had been wearing sweats for the most part.

He thumbed through a few pairs of jeans and frowned. "None of these are going to fit, are they?"

"...Cameron went shopping."

Nik squinted and looked through his jeans once more. He pulled a pair out and stretched. "When did he do this?" Nik frowned at the alien jeans with their stretchy fabric in horror before shrugging it off and grabbing a loose black shirt to go with it.

Lev had no answer other than his own shrug and took it at face value. The idea of Cameron in a maternity store was too hilarious a thought to stay irritable at it.

Nik worked at getting himself slowly dressed. Without any coffee in his system, he was fighting the urge to just go back to bed. Though luckily enough for him, he wasn't showing nearly as much as what he had seen on the internet with people pregnant the same length as he.

"Seems like a pretty big party for like seven people." Nik said. He rubbed his eyes, pulling the last bit of sleepiness away. "Unless you decided to invite his royal prickliness too."

"Well I assume Bay is coming. Celeste too; they'll bring the babies," Lev said. "We also invited Biela too- though we don't think she'll come."

"I should hope not. I might do something hormonal like poison her sparkly punch, or something."

"Nikolas."

"Hm?" Nik started for the doorway, expecting Lev to follow him back to where he was sure the festivities would eventually begin.

By the time they got there, Bay and Nate had already arrived with Lucas sitting contently on Bay's hip chewing on a teething toy. And their boy scout was promptly hovering behind them.

"Silas," Nik said. "Didn't think you'd be here. Unless you're here because of Lev, of course."

Silas' only response was to flip him off, though it was short lived by Nate smacking him upside the head hard enough Nik heard Silas' neck pop. Nate gave Silas a dirty warning look.

Nik snorted. "Need to learn new tricks."

"Hi Silas," Lev said, from Nik’s side.

Silas gave a disgruntled, "Hey Lev."

Nate looked pleased at Silas' newfound self restraint. "The party looks great, Nik."

"I know, I did great," he said, lying through his teeth. Nik smooshed Levs face away when Lev pinched his hip. "My taste: impeccable."

Nate rose a singular groomed brow. "Oh I'm sure." He looked to Lev. "It looks great, Lev."

Already Lev had glued himself back to Nik’s side. He looked a little put out as he said honestly, “Most of the praise should go to Cameron and Ash and Mami. I wasn’t allowed to do much.”

"Well next time don't die," Ash said, appearing back in the doorway. "That way you'll actually be able to do some of the heavy lifting."

Nik frowned deeply at him, especially once Lev froze next to him and looked uncomfortable.

Ash looked perfectly unfazed.

Mami appeared a heartbeat later, to which Nate instantly perked up somehow even more. Though her eyes were trained on the well behaved six month old in Bay's arms.

The tiny woman nearly flew across the room to get to him, only for Bay to stare her down and refuse to relinquish the baby. "No."

Nate instantly jumped in. "He's still, ah, getting used to letting people hold Lucas," he said, quickly. "I can get Eden for you, if you like?"

Nik's hand flew over his mouth at the mirrored glare coming from both Mami and Bay. She sized Bay up, clearly deciding if it's worth it or not to challenge both her king and the omega that carried the partly legless bundle of joy. Bay's eyes narrowed. "I said no."

She huffed and tore her attention back to Nate who gave her a warm hug, though she was absolutely miniscule compared to Nate's height of six-two. When she pulled back, Nate went to disappear, presumably to find the little terror most likely taking a nap.

When he came back, Nate not only had Eden crawling all over him, he also had Adrien and his wife in tow. Neither of them had particularly warm or friendly looks on their faces, though that was usually par for the course for Adrien and Dyaana.

"Hello," Lev offered.

Dyaana eyed Lev, and gave him a slight smile whereas Adrien looked halfway in pain and just nodded once before coming to give Nik a hug.

Lev wisely removed himself from Niks waist before he got crushed by pure muscle. When Adrien pulled apart, Nik said, "didn't think you'd step foot in Demon Territory."

"The things you do for family," Adrien deadpanned.

Nik only grinned.

"Hey where's your clone?"

"Babysitter," Adrien said. "I'd rather not risk my two year old getting eaten by your boyfriend."

"Hey, Cameron doesn't eat infants. If he had, he would have eaten Eden," Nik said. "She's far more appealing as a meal than Mathias."

Adrien's only response to that was to roll his eyes. At that Lev decided to usher Nik to an armchair. "I am not an invalid, Lev," he said, plopping down anyways.

Lev perched on the armrest and kissed the top of Nik's hair. "I know dear."

When Adrien snorted, Nik threw him a poisonous glare. "Oh shut up."

Eden was still screeching happily in Mami's arms, getting all the attention she wanted, even though she was trying to latch her tiny teeth in Mami's shoulder. Mami easily avoided it by giving her a toy worthy of her teeth.

It was another twenty minutes before Celeste arrived. The last time he saw the witch she was about to pop. But judging by the fussy newborn in her arms, that was no longer the case. She came over to offer Nik a hug, and to show off her tiny pale baby. "We named him Dakota," she informed them.

Lev instantly cooed over him. "He’s so cute," Lev said. "Can I hold him?"

Ash found his way over to butt his nose in like he usually did. He squinted at Lev, but Celeste was already moving to hand him over. "Of course. Watch his head?"

"I know," he assured.

"Wait," Nik said, "Do you know that Ash is staying here…?"

"Yes she does," Ash said, "And she also is staying here. They both are."

Nik's brows shot up. "Is Cameron aware of this?"

Ash lifted a shoulder. "I told him."

"You 'told' him," Nik echoed.

"Dunno what you expected. I have a wife and a kid that I need to be with and I have a stubborn friend who refuses to listen to me. I told you I'm making myself everyone's problem."

Celeste looked pained. But Lev seemed perfectly blissed out; he hadn't even looked up from the fussy baby in his arms. "I don't think I'll mind having them here." He looked up at Celeste. "You've always been nice."

She gave him a tired smile. "I certainly try." She cut Ash a look. "Some people make it difficult sometimes."

Ash folded his arms. "If they don't want me to be difficult, maybe they should try to listen to me for once."

Celeste rolled her eyes but looked back to Nik. "I'm very happy for all of you. I'll help however I can."

Lev’s focus was already trained back on Dakota. Nik squirmed a little. "Thanks, I guess."

She just squeezed his hand.

---

Cyrus lit the last candle and shook out the match. He looked over at Darius as he settled on the bed. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad of an idea is this?” he asked drily.

Darius thought on that for a moment. “Probably a seven point two.”

After giving a small sigh, Cyrus laid back on the bed. “Better than I ten, I suppose.”

When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer lying on his bed. He wasn’t even in his own house anymore. The walls around him were all earthy tones, the green accents only catching his eye briefly before he settled on Asmi themself.

The god was tall, their dark skin a deeper brown than his own, and bright blue eyes that pinned him in place. After a moment where he froze -afraid, if he was willing to admit it - he dipped his head respectfully. When he looked at them again, he noted that they were still seated in their chair, face thin and tight, bags under their eyes, though they kept their chin high.

“Am I right in assuming that Darius explained what’s going on?” Cyrus ventured.

"You poisoned me once and now you want me to give you the tools to be able to do so again?"

Cyrus forced himself to keep his gaze steady. “If I do it right, it shouldn’t this time.”

"Shouldn't have happened the first time," they said flatly. "Necromancy defies balance and you weakened me for an angel who didn't bother communing with me in the first place. You didn't bother communing with me in the first place. And now that you need my help, you finally deign to bother?"

Cyrus inclined his head ever so slightly. “Ignorance is not an excuse, but it’s the only explanation I personally have.” He folded his hands carefully on his knee. “I made a promise. I don’t break them.” Asmi gave him the time he needed to gather his words. “I am sorry. For everything. I’ve never-” He paused again, frustrated by how hard it was to piece together the words. “It’s not an excuse, that I was never taught how to commune with you. Darius had to teach me, and you’re not even his god. But I want to do right by Darius. If nothing else, he’s been kind to me, and kind to everyone. I promised Cameron I would try. This is me trying. I want to make a deal that will work, not flub the spell again.”

They seemed to think on it; to weigh his words carefully. "What kind of deal?" They finally said.

“Same as the one that brought Levant back.” Cyrus considered his words and then amended, “A similar one, at least. Some sort of exchange.”

"And what's stopping you?"

Cyrus shook his head. “I don't want to risk getting the exchange wrong. That’s what released the dark magic into the earth in the first place. The spell unravelled, and I won’t let that happen again. But I won’t sacrifice Cameron Luain for this spell. It makes both this one and the one that brought Levant back completely pointless.”

Asmi nodded slowly and leaned back in their chair, blue eyes narrowed in thought. "Pick your sacrifice one last time and I will cover the remaining sacrifice to your spell. I warn you, the price will be heavy and I am not so easy to forgive the disruption you have caused me. Make sure this is worth it before you once again defy me."

Cyrus nodded slowly. “Thank you,” he said softly. When Asmi didn’t reply, Cyrus added, “If it’s not arrogant of me to ask... I’d like to talk to you again.” He cocked his head ever so slightly. “I know nothing of you, as my god or as a god in general. I’d like to fill in the gaps my education has.”

"It's not arrogant," they said. "It's what's expected of you. So yes, you may. There's plenty you need to get caught up on."

Cyrus limited himself to a small smile. “Then I look forward to speaking to you in the future,” he said politely. “Thank you, again.”

Rather than reply, they gave a tired flick of their wrist.

Cyrus blinked his eyes open to see his own ceiling. Sorin was sprawled against his side, purring as he kneaded his claws gently in Cyrus’ arm. Cyrus rolled his head until he could find Darius. “I think I got permission. I need to call Cameron.”

---

The party had been well underway when Cameron stepped out of the room. He slipped into his office several hallways down before his phone started to buzz. He didn't let it finish its first ring before answering. "Are you ready, then?"

“Sort of.” Cyrus hesitated. “I spoke with Asmi. They’ve promised as long as someone is sacrificed, they’ll take care of the rest, rather than risk the spell failing. I just don’t have anyone to sacrifice, to my knowledge.”

"Well lucky for you," Cameron said, "I currently have a spineless traitor rotting in my basement. Will that appease your morals?"

“A traitor?” Cyrus pressed mildly.

"A person who betrays a friend, country or a principle," Cameron replied, matching his tone. "A traitor."

“How did he betray you?”

"Well now, that's my business, now isn't it?"

There was a long pause, and then, “Did they kill anyone?”

"He's my employee."

The sigh the witch gave was audible through the phone even if Cameron hadn’t been a demon. “Fine. I’ve got a few things to pull together but I’m mostly ready, whenever you are.”

Cameron promptly hung up his phone and smoothed out his suit. He gave himself five heartbeats to settle before joining the festivities.

Caius had finally arrived, with many gifts in tow, despite it being demonic custom to not celebrate an infant until after its birth. Adapting to Nik’s angelic ancestry, he imagined. Cameron hadn't bothered saying as much when Lev suggested a baby-shower. If that was what the angel thought Nik needed, then he would provide.

Nik instantly eyed him from where he was, brows rose in question, but Cameron went to turn his focus to the Crown Prince currently placing the gifts along the table. "You seem to be in a rather generous mood, my prince," Cameron observed.

Caius flashed him a dazzling smile. "Why you make it sound like I'm not always in a giving mood, my loyal subject."

"I imagined a massacre would dampen your rather optimistic spirits."

Grief flickered in Caius' blue eyes. "All the more reason to celebrate a new life."

"Hm."

"I brought you all gifts," Caius said, with an echo of cheerfulness. "Including one for him."

"Much thanks." Cameron looked Nik's way to see him talking animatedly with Ash and Lev and Nate. He seemed to have been brought to a better mood with the sole focus on him. "It's always an honor to receive the eye of the crown."

Caius snorted at Cameron’s ingrained court-speak, but said nothing of it. Merely squeezed his shoulder before disappearing back into the party to give gifts to their respective recipients.

---

Admittedly, after so many months of solitude or just Cameron and Nik for company, the party was a little overwhelming. He drew comfort from the fact that Nik was right there, and Cameron lingered on the edges of the party being Cameron.

The fact that Caius was very friendly helped, though. Lev barely knew the man, but he was pretty and his smile seemed both genuine and calm. He laughed easily and didn’t seem bothered by the amount of angels in the room with him, despite being the Crown Prince of demonic territory.

At some point during the festivities, Caius pulled Lev aside, though. Lev glanced back at Nik, but let Caius with only a flustered, “Okay.”

“I got you something,” Caius said, flashing him another smile that definitely made Lev flush a little.

“Nik’s the one who’s pregnant,” Lev blurted. He flushed deeper, and then said quickly, “I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just Nik’s day, I wasn’t expecting anything.”

“I got everyone a present,” Caius said easily, unbothered.

Lev blinked down at the box, confusion at why it looked very much like a ring box catching him off guard. The brief glance up at the prince told him he was very amused, and Lev had to wonder if he was a telepath like Biela. When he opened it, though, a locket was nestled inside.

“Oh,” Lev said, picking it up gently. He thumbed it open to find a picture of Cameron, Nik, and Eden each in its own little section. “Oh.”

“Were you expecting an engagement ring?” Caius asked.

“Oh,” Lev spluttered. “No, not expected, I-” He gestured helplessly at the box, flushed deeply. “I love it, really.” He ran his finger over the picture of Nik, knowing his face was softening as he did so. “It’s perfect.”

Caius said, “Well I’m glad. You’re not an easy person to pinpoint.”

“I don’t want much,” Lev said honestly.

Caius shrugged. “Just the important things.”

Lev let his attention track through the room, hitting on Cameron, Nik, and Eden one by one. “Exactly,” he said softly. He switched his gaze back to Caius, offering him a smile. “Thank you. Truly. I love it.”

Caius winked at him, but before he said anything else, Nik made his way over. He gave Lev a pointed look. “What’s going on over here?” Nik asked. “You look like you’re about to ask his hand in marriage, Levant.”

“No,” Lev promised, tucking into Nik’s side pointedly. “I was just thanking him. He got me a gift. See?” He showed it to Nik with enthusiasm.

Nik kissed his cheek. “It’s very pretty. Where’s my attention?”

A laugh bubbled up in his throat. “You’ve got a whole party. I wasn’t gone long.” He shot Caius an apologetic look.

"Well let me make it up to you," Caius said to Nik. "As you're doing all the heavy lifting, you deserve a gift of your own, yes?"

Nik arched a brow. "I'm literally doing nothing other than being a rotisserie oven."

“Nikolas,” Lev hissed, poking him gently. “Be polite.”

Nik raised his brows but Caius only laughed. "Even still. Not easy. I understand you like music?"

"Something like that, yeah."

Caius' smile widened. "Great! I actually worked with a few different craftsmen and musicians to have something built for you. Excuse me."

When Caius disappeared back to the piles of gifts he had brought, Nik turned back to Lev. "Very pretty isn't he?"

Lev could feel heat rising in his cheeks yet again. “Yes,” Lev said primly. “There’s no need to tease"

"I have never teased you a day in your life," Nik said. "Merely stating an observation."

“You tease me daily,” Lev informed him, but he still smiled at Nik, reaching up to brush Nik’s hair from his eyes. “Every single day, Nikolas. Every day.”

“Are you calling a pregnant omega a liar?”

“Maybe so,” Lev hummed. He kissed the corner of Nik’s mouth. “Maybe so.”

Caius came back with an elegant cedar guitar. The gleaming guitar’s finish was clearly done to bring out the natural colors of the wood. Nik’s eyes trailed over the body of the guitar and rested on the careful mosaic beadwork around the hollow. “That design work is specific to Tullum,” Nik said, vaguely accusatory; though mostly amused. “Are you trying to buy me off?”

Caius seemed unbothered. “Not particularly. Just trying to gift you something you would actually enjoy. I find personal gifts are more memorable.”

“Sure,” Nik said, but he was still moving closer to run his fingers along that delicate beadwork.

“Thank you,” Lev said, since Nik didn’t seem inclined to.

Caius merely winked at him.

Lev blushed, since Nik seemed too interested in his new guitar to be embarrassed. He certainly was interested enough to take it from Caius and strum a few bars. Lev elbowed Nik gently. Nik ignored him, but Caius seemed pleased anyway.

Caius dipped himself into a mini bow. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s Cameron’s turn.”

---

Cameron led the prince back towards his office where they could be alone without prying party guests could interfere. He took the gift meant for Darius and sat it carefully on the desk, and turned back to Caius. “I received a call from the witch who will be performing the spell,” Cameron said. “I figured you would want to be informed.”

Caius slipped his hands smoothly into his pockets. “I would.” Caius cocked his head, eyeing Cameron very carefully. “You have certainly come a long way from the bastard whore I met you as.” There wasn’t any disrespect in his words, merely a statement of observation. “Now a lord in your own right, with your own family.”

“I am merely filling in a role that needed filling,” Cameron said. “Though I am grateful nonetheless.”

“Hm.”

“The resurrection,” Cameron said, pointedly, drawing attention from whatever point Caius was clearly trying to make. “Should be happening within the week.”

Caius gave him a look, but let the insolence slide. “So you have someone lined up to be slaughtered for a sacrifice?”

“Slaughtered is a large word for a demon with a weak spine, your grace.”

Caius lifted a groomed brow. “Is that so?”

“The witch’s morals interfered with choosing a warm body, and luckily enough, I happened to have a traitor rotting in my basement.”

Caius snorted. “Traitor? From the rather loud screaming, I did imagine someone was being tortured in this house.” He tapped his temple. “I’d like to see this traitor.”

With little choice to that matter, Cameron led the prince through the house, down to the basement where Sage was still chained up. Cameron had been keeping him well fed and in peak condition outside of his routine torturing. Sage rolled his head towards them, tiredly, but there was a bit of surprise - and a new found fear- flickering in his eyes when he saw Caius next to him.

Caius eyed him slowly, circling the chair bolted into the floor. The impeccable clothes tailored to Caius’ frame were a stark contrast to the sharp bleakness of the room, though Cameron knew the weight of power a good suit held, and how to weaponize it.

When Caius stopped in front of the chair, he had a small smile gracing his face. “I could hear your thoughts from upstairs,” he said. “Clearly you wanted my attention.”

Sage sucked in a haggard breath, trying to not look at Cameron. “Just make him kill me,” he rasped. “I’ve been here for months-”

“My sister was tortured by angels for months on end,” Caius said, unfazed. “She was whipped and beaten and carved up and she hadn’t broken. She hadn’t begged for death, or whatever pathetic attempt at mercy this is. In fact, the difference is,” he said, “this was rather well deserved. Your treasonous actions against your lord led to the events of millions of children dying, so, if you were to die, it’s going to be for something that is definitely not for your benefit.” Caius leaned forward, just enough to keep the blood from touching him. “Don’t worry, your suffering will soon end.”

Caius leaned back and turned to Cameron. “Do what you need. So long as another innocent isn’t taken from these lands, I couldn’t care less.”

Cameron’s mouth twitched, but he just inclined his head.

---

The day had been tense and heavy for Darius. Between getting everything in line with Asmi and Cyrus, and also not returning to the Manor, knowing Destris was lurking the halls, Darius had decided to spend his time that night playing a small game of fetch with Sorin in his demonic form.

A small ball of paper used a rather small amount of energy, so it was easy to keep up. Around three in the morning, they had been playing the quiet game going for the last few hours after Cyrus retired to bed. Sorin had been kind enough to keep him company while his mate slept without him.

It was then that the front door opened silently. Sorin flicked his ears at Cameron, who promptly ignored him and started his way back through the house. Darius rose to his feet and followed him back, veering around him to get to Cyrus before he did to give the witch a heads up.

He touched Cyrus’ shoulder, in effort to wake him. He blinked sleepily at Darius, eyes flashing gold from the amount of swollen magic Cyrus had building inside him. “I’m assuming Cameron is here?” The amount of pure tired that was in Cyrus’ voice didn’t go unnoticed or unappreciated by Darius.

Cameron walked into the room not even a heartbeat later. “Have I come at a bad time?” He sounded very unsympathetic.

Darius flashed Cyrus an apologetic wince.

All Cyrus said was, “No,” while rising to a sitting position. “Are you here to speak to Darius?”

If he hadn’t been watching Cameron’s every move the last five hundred years, he would have missed the way Cameron’s jaw set. “Yes.”

Cyrus gave the smallest of sighs, but stood up. “I have my supplies in my study.”

Unsurprisingly, Cameron merely turned around and most likely started towards the study. Darius simply waited patiently for Cyrus to get ready.

Cyrus rubbed at his face, stifling a yawn with his wrist as he followed Cameron. His movements were slow and heavy, but he only made his way into the study and began lighting candles while Sorin followed, tail swishing over the ground like a fluffy ginger ribbon.

Cameron stood stiffly out of the way, slender hands in his pockets while he waited, unblinkingly in pure silence. Darius did not need his magic to know that Cameron getting here was like pulling teeth.

Darius could only imagine the weight in his chest he’d be feeling at the idea of Cameron avoiding him to the point he has to force himself to be here- to speak to him.

There was relief in Cyrus’ voice as he began the incantation for Darius to manifest to Cameron. When Cameron’s pale eyes slid to him, unreadable as ever, Darius curled a lock of hair behind his ear, if only to relieve some of his own tension. “You wanted to speak with me?”

Cameron’s lips thinned.

Darius gave him the time to be able to put together the words he needed to patiently. Finally, Cameron fixed his jaw once more and said, “I am assuming you still want to be resurrected?”

“Do you still want me to be resurrected?”

Cameron’s eyes narrowed. “The Prince has gifted me papers of your reinstatement as a citizen of Razya the moment you are alive. As if you had never been dead in the first place.”

A citizen of Razya? Darius hadn’t even been considered a citizen when he was alive. Bastards hold no citizenship, no rights, no protection. He hadn’t even had a home before he had been abducted when he was a child. Merely living on the streets. A pretty child with no home was easy prey.

“That was very kind of the prince.”

“Mm.”

“Is that all you wished to tell me?” Darius asked, after a heavy silence.

“I imagine you’re aware that Nik is pregnant.”

When Darius nodded, Cameron said, “I mated him, a few weeks ago when his father tried to stake a claim on him. I used the Old Laws.”

Darius smiled. “That was kind of you,” he observed. “I’m sure Nik adores you very much. He and his child will be safe with you.” When Cameron rose a brow, Darius tried to not snort. “I will do my best to not upset the dichotomy of the house, Cameron. I have a rather pleasant personality.”

“I can see nothing going wrong with that,” Sorin said from the doorway.

Darius flicked Sorin a look. “I’m sure I have no idea what you are referring to, Sorin. I seem to get along rather fine with you.”

Sorin smiled, eyes crinkling. “True enough.”

Darius returned his attention back to Cameron, who was giving Sorin his own irritable look. Though the moment Cameron caught Darius’ eye, his expression returned to neutrality.

“I’m sure you will,” Cameron said, as if Sorin hadn’t spoken a word. “However Nik’s shrunken frontal lobe suggests he will not behave accordingly. So when he eventually does decide to overreact, I suggest you be prepared for it. He’s emotional on a good day and as he is pregnant, he’s even more so.”

“Thank you for the precaution.”

“I thought it would be beneficial.”

Cameron’s pale eyes lingered on him momentarily, flickering in the candle light, before he turned back to Cyrus who was kneeling on the ground near the candles. His eyes seemed rather unfocused. “When can we get this over with?” Cameron asked him. When Cyrus didn’t answer, Cameron moved his attention to Sorin in the doorway. “Focus your witch.”

Cameron rolled his eyes when Sorin hissed at him, but moved to crouch near Cyrus. Cyrus blinked at him, and then fixed his gaze on Cameron. “Pardon?”

“When can we get this over with?” Cameron said, irritably.

He always did detest repeating himself.

“Within the next few days,” Cyrus replied. “I’ve got everything ready. I just need to set it up.”

Cameron pulled out his phone, clearly flicking through his schedule. “I’ll give you the next two days to set up and then I will be here at seven sharp the third day. Be ready by then.”

Cameron slipped his phone into his pocket and disappeared through the door without a glace his way.

Darius bit back his sigh. “I do hope that is alright.”

Cyrus shrugged. “Not that I have much of a choice. But I’ll be fine. Once the spell is done, I’m going to take the longest nap, however.”

“And it will be the most well deserved longest nap,” Darius said, solemnly.

With a tired smile, Cyrus began extinguishing the candles, one by one, coating the room with nighttime once more.

Tagging:  @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @lil-miss-red @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis @idreamonpaper

[captain-tch]

Extinction Event

You are a captain in the Scouts when a strange phenomenon means that the sun never rises again.

Note: this is inspired by the events of the game, Final Fantasy XV. Its such a great game and I highly recommend it if you're looking for something new.

The morning the sun hid from the world, everything changed. No one knew what had caused it, or why the sun dipped far below the horizon to never be seen again. But one thing was for sure - the world just got a lot more dangerous.

During the Age of the Sun, living a forever night would be a dream come true. The titans used to be immobile during the night. No one could understand why. But it didn't matter for long. Because the fuckers evolved over time, starting to torment the walls in the deepest darkness.

At first, people hoped. They prayed and believed this was only a temporary phenomenon, eagerly waiting for the next time the sunlight would kiss their skin. It was all in vain. The sun never rose again.

Panic set out within the walls. Titans banged on the walls day and night, the moon feeding their desire for blood. Many soldiers died protecting the walls. Many died in vain. Your home, along with many others, was trampled beneath the feet of the monsters. The bones of your family laid there too. That was why you stood on top of the very wall that both protected and caged you from the outside.

The only wall left.

Wall Sina was once a bustle of life. Luxury that once oozed from every crevice now reeked of desperation. People laughed in those streets once. You couldn't remember the last time you heard it. Children wandered the streets, puffy eyes and light fingers.

You sighed, turning yourself away from the mess below, staring lifelessly at the titans on the other side instead. In the dark you could only make out their shapes. Their towering figures were enough to make your heart race.

"It's getting worse down there." Your team mate Anna noted, glancing down at the titans beating at the walls. You strained your ears to hear her over the constant explosion of cannons. "The deterrents aren't working."

Fear struck close to your heart. As quickly as you felt the feeling, you clenched your jaw, looking out over the wall solemnly. You could barely see beyond the wall, torches lit all along it, casting a dim light on the monsters below. Even without the light to guide you, you could imagine the barren land, lush with green. In the distance, you could picture the pines that provided you safety. A long time ago, the Scouts were out there, trying to reclaim land. Now they could barely cope protecting the land they had.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. Being a Captain was no easy job before the Darkness came, and now it was ten times harder. Sometimes you wished you could curl up into a ball and sleep for a million years. After being in the Scouts for over ten years you thought you had seen it all. Having joined the 104th cadet corps as a young teenager, you believed yourself to have long been desensitised to the horrors that came with the job. Then the darkness fell and you were back at step one.

Its in this moment that your thoughts turn to Jean. A warmth blossomed in your chest as you imagined his disarming smile, and his strong arms. How you wish he could wrap them around you now and hide you from the world.

"We're doing all we can do."

Anna shook her head, nodding. "I know. But its starting to feel like its never going to be enough."

You laughed humourlessly. "What do you suggest we do?"

"Fuck this all off and live while we can."

You pondered it for a moment. You could try and forget about the impending doom that threatened the security of the walls. You could spend time with Jean, finish that book you've been dying to read, maybe even drink yourself into oblivion. The thought of not having the future of humanity on your shoulders was luxury enough.

But all of the blood spilled...

And in a flash, that fantasy rippled away. Too many people were gone for you to brush away your duty.

All you could do was offer Anna a small smile, eyes distant. "Tempting."

"Yeah, me too." Sometimes it was strange how Anna could read your mind; she always seemed to be on the same wavelength as you.

The canons stopped for a brief moment, giving your ears a moments reprieve.

You almost wished it hadn't.

Because the moment silence fell, so did the wall.

*

You were fucked. To be honest, that felt like a complete understatement for the horror surrounding you, but its the closest you could get.

The titans had broken through the wall. Your entire team was dead - including Anna. Her blood was staining your clothes. She had dived off the wall to stop you from falling. By the time you had landed on the ground you only had a searing pain spreading through your shoulder and she was dead.

You barely had time to take in your surroundings, slicing titans wherever you could. Subconsciously though, you saw how the streets were drowning in bodies, body parts scattered. A child's shoe discarded on the pavement.

Flying through the air, you hurtled to your next destination, slicing open the neck of a titan with ease. You had no chance to think about your next move, already advancing on your next target. The agony in your shoulder was at the back of your mind, the urge to survive overpowering the tear jerking feeling.

You had stopped trying to save people today. All attempts had been in vain. Their screams would be scarred into your brain forever.

If you lived long enough to remember.

"Y/N!" A familiar voice cut through the slaughter.

You stopped in your tracks, perching on the side of a building. Frantically you searched everywhere for that voice. Your rock. Your best friend. Your love.

"Jean?"

"Y/N!"

His voice was nearer now. You scrambled to the top of the building, eyes desperately catching on to a familiar shape flying in your direction. Tears swelled in your eyes.

He was alive. He was okay.

For the first time in a very long time, you felt like you could breathe. It didn't matter that the air stank of death, clogging your lungs, or that a metallic taste lingered in your mouth. You could breathe. A smile touched your lips.

Unable to wait any longer, you started to run along the roof, desperate to be close to him. You wanted to clutch him close to your chest and breathe in his scent. You wanted him to draw patterns on your back, just the way he always did when you were upset.

You wanted to kiss him.

You leaped over the edge of the roof, tilting your hips as you directed your gear to follow you. You were launched over the gap, soaring over the next roof and landing without breaking a stride.

Jean was matching your pace, his gear sending him zooming closer to you.

Finally.

You landed on the same roof as him, hands instinctively gripping your knees, desperately sucking in breath. Jean was on you before you could stand straight, holding you tight and squeezing as if his life depended on it.

You clenched your eyes shut, wrapping your arms around him with a mirrored ferocity. Everything fell still. Time froze as you two held each other, anchoring the other in a world without gravity.

He pushed you away from him gently, eyes darting over your form. His gaze found the blood soaking your clothes, hands following to try and staunch the blood from an invisible would.

You swallowed thickly, curling your hands around his. "Its not mine."

"I'm sorry." He cupped your cheek, spreading blood. "This is it, isn't it? This is our extinction event."

You didn't want to admit it but you knew it was true. The air wasn't filled with as many screams as it was before. You knew it was because there weren't many people left.

Wordlessly you shook your head, lacing your fingers through his hair. "I wish we had more time."

You pulled your forehead to his, closing your eyes. This was your happy place. With him. Some of the happiest memories you had were with him. Sitting in the mess hall, flicking mashed potato at him. Resting your head on his chest as you read to him, his fingers lazily working through your hair. Escaping from the barracks in the middle of the night to go skinny dipping.

The thought of not being able to make any more happy memories hit you harder than any loss.

But like all great things, it doesn't last forever.

Beneath your feet, the building shook. Both of you were thrown off balance, stumbling to regain your grip. Without thinking your hands flung out, reaching for Jean. His fingers slipped between yours, holding you tight and pulling you upright.

"We have company."

Spinning around, you saw the thirteen metre titan staring intently at you. It was close enough that you could make out it's details in the dark, a demonic smile painted on its face, blood and skin wedged in its teeth. Red stained its chin.

You were its next target.

Unsheathing your blades, you ready yourself to pounce.

"Y/N!"

You cry out as you're knocked to the ground. Your head smacked harshly against the cobbles, stars appearing in your vision. You're so out of it you barely hear Jean screaming your name, or feel the abnormal titans grip.

The abnormal tightens its grip. Involuntarily, you screeched, your ribs crunching and sending waves of pain through your body. It keeps squeezing, squeezing and squeezing until - pop.

Blood spilled out of your mouth. Wetness stains your cheeks - whether its blood or tears you're not sure.

The sound of wires zipping greeted your ears. A battle cry ripped through the air. The titans grip loosened and now you're falling -

Falling -

Falling -

A pair of strong arms gently wrapped around you. You recognised Jean instantly by his ashy smell. Even with all of the pain you're in, you muster a smile.

"My knight in shining armour," you croaked, trying to lift an arm to stroke his cheek. The agony tore through you fast enough for you to drop it.

Jean stopped moving, landing in a derelict street. The sounds of fighting were distant. You were alone.

He tried to lay you on the floor; your hysteric cries stopped him. Instead he cradled you in his arms, moving to sit himself down. You grunted, clinging to him with a tight grip.

"I'm so sorry Y/N," Jean whispered, moving a strand of hair away from your face. His touch lingered for a moment, his eyes searching your pain stricken ones. "I'm so sorry you didn't get to see the sun again."

You give him a weak smile - a feeble attempt to mask your pain. Your vision was darkening, your anxiety rising. You had so much to say, so much to still do.

But you had no time.

"You are my sun."

[tsukuna]

Assistant to the Chancellor

Summary: “An outsider with no reason to be given the hefty task of dealing with the Gralean Empire’s flamboyant chancellor has ended up with just that. She’s willing to put up with all the antics, but is there ulterior motives for her obedience that none are privy to? And can they compete with the grim secrets of Chancellor Izunia himself?”

No True Rating Yet • Female Reader • Before the Events of XV • Under the Cut

A couple weeks had passed since you had begun working for Chancellor Izunia and you found yourself growing more comfortable with his flamboyant personality. If nothing else, you could tolerate it. There were even moments where you found yourself giggling at his little antics, to which he’d react with a self-satisfied smirk. You were grateful that these flirty gestures and comments were at least coming from an attractive man, not someone slimy and entirely not your type (which you weren’t quite sure what would even constitute as “your type”). You shuddered to imagine Besithia acting as Ardyn does.

It had taken a couple days and evenings, but you finally finished the paperwork--sifting through what you’d bring to his attention, throwing whatever out, putting official seals on anything that required it. All simple things, but it seemed far too much for someone who didn’t even appear to take the politics seriously. Though who were you to judge when you hardly took the work seriously yourself?

A sigh passed your lips, knowing that it would already be dark outside and thus you would need to go sleep soon after. You placed a soft knock on the Chancellor’s office door.

“Come in, love,” he invited with a sing-song voice.

“Ardyn,” you gave a short bow, “everything you need is ready for you.” You explained the gist of what you completed, hoping it’d make his busy work easier.

“Thank you. You continue to impress me everyday,” he said your name with a warm expression.

“That’s the goal, right?” You offered up the same energy. “I know it’s a bit late, and I wouldn’t want to keep you any longer, but is there anything else you’d like from me before I take my leave?”

Ardyn closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, obviously considering your request. “Dinner!”

“Eh?” There was no chance of you holding back the shock on your face.

“Your boss is requesting that you share dinner with him,” he chirped. All you could do was blink at him for a few moments.

“I actually had some leftovers I have to finish so they don’t, uh, go bad,” you made an excuse.

“Hm, quite a predicament we find ourselves in,” Ardyn stated, scratching his stubble. “How about this then!” He excitedly put a finger up as if having an ‘Aha!’ moment. “Tomorrow is our day off, yes?” You slowly nodded your head with a quirked eyebrow. “Then we will go out for dinner, a nice dinner tomorrow night!”

“I…” You had no excuses to deny the Chancellor this time, and his satisfied expression indicated he was well aware. “If you truly wish to share a meal with your humble assistant tomorrow night, I shall accept.”

A sly smile graced Ardyn’s lips, “Wonderful, I haven’t had anything to look forward to in quite some time. We can meet here in the evening.” He laughed before waving you away, “That’ll be all for today, my dear. See you tomorrow,” he winked.

You bowed before bidding him goodnight and rushing to your room. Non-work related conversations with the man always left your brain feeling drained as you tried to ascertain what motivations he had under that carefree facade. You crashed unceremoniously onto your bed, not bothering to eat anything, though you technically did have leftovers that were going to spoil.

What were you to wear tomorrow? What conversation points did you have to discuss? Where were you even going to eat? Such questions eventually lulled you into a sleep.

Though not a very satisfying one. You woke up in the late afternoon to a mess of rat’s nest of hair and dried drool caked to one side of your mouth. ‘Maybe I should show up like this,’ you snorted but your better judgement told you to clean up. It wouldn’t be any good to lose your current position, it’s already difficult to get the information you’re looking for as is. You slinked off to the showers, making sure the temperature was as hot as your skin could take before stepping in. The shower routine you had wasn’t too long, yet you still sat there in contemplation long after you were done.

Travels all around Eos led you to no further information on what you were seeking--information about the lost and long-forgotten Astral you heard stories of as a child; stories that were deeply rooted in your existence. Eventually, the only place you hadn’t checked was Niflheim. And so here you sat, in the last place you could hope to check.

Your skin was raw from the hot water by the time you finally exited, but hey, at least you were clean now; however the clock was ticking against you, you slept in far too late and showered far too long. “Ah shit,” scolding yourself, you quickly got to work on finishing up your appearance.

It was nothing special, frankly speaking. You didn’t want to look like you tried too hard for your kinda-but-not-really dinner date with your superior. Donned in a black, sleeved, and laced dress accented with gold, you accessorized only with your pendant. The only styling your hair received was a decent blow drying. Nodding as you checked the mirror last time, you headed towards the office, but not to work this time.

Truthfully, you expected the Chancellor to be late like he often is at work, so your heart skipped a beat to see him waiting. “Apologies for making you wait for me,” you bowed once you finally reached him.

Taking you by the chin, Ardyn lifted your head up and gave one of the signature smiles, “Not a problem. I would be happy to wait a thousand years for a beauty such as yourself,” he kissed the back of your hand with a wink. Though it was nothing out of the ordinary for him to say, there was something about it that felt chilling. “I see you’re as lovely as ever,” he offered as a compliment.

“I see you’re looking… the same as ever,” you quirked a brow. He wore his typical dark, layered outfit, though you were a bit relieved to see that he ditched the fedora for the night. ‘I quite prefer his wine-red hair uncovered,’ you admitted to yourself.

“Apologies,” he chuckled, “Believe it or not, I don’t own very many outfits.” Seeing how eccentric Ardyn was, you did believe him and nodded as confirmation. “Well then,” he said your name in a rather sultry way that made you blush, “shall we get going?” The chancellor offered his arm to you, which you timidly took.

The two of you shortly arrived at a low-lit, rather intimate restaurant. It was intimidating to an extent, you’d never bothered to go somewhere nice. Your life had been about eating quickly, eating cheap, and only eating when necessary. “I don’t know if I belong at a nice place like this,” you remarked with a laugh as the two of you were seated.

“Nonsense, it is my duty to treat my ever faithful assistant to something out of the norm,” Ardyn gestured around the room.

“Treating?” You opened your eyes wide. “That won’t be necessary. I can pay for it. Though I appreciate the thought,” you put on a smile.

“Absolutely not! I am the one who invited you after all.”

“Well then next time I have to pay!” You quickly smacked your hand over your mouth, realizing what you said and the implications of it.

“You are one of the most entertaining humans I have ever met,” Ardyn stifled a laugh. “But fine, if you are to ask me out, I will allow you to pay.”

“Ever the gentleman.”

The chatter the two of you kept over dinner was rather innocent and not professional, but not overly colloquial either. There were, however, multiple incidences of him reaching over the small table to get touches of your hand in. To be honest, you weren’t too shocked at the gesture, but it did garner a bit of surprise out of you when he instead clutched your pendant between his fingers.

“Such an interesting little thing,” the Chancellor pointed out. “Such an interesting little gem.” He examined the green crystal, the designs within, and the metal twining with fervor. “You wear it daily.”

You nodded. “It is very special to me, it is all I have of my parents,” a soft smile came to your face. “It was actually an anniversary gift to my mother, but after their death, it ended up in my hands.” You paused before continuing, “It is the only earthly possession I truly care for--my most precious treasure.”

“To care for something is quite a gift,” Ardyn spoke absentmindedly almost as if you weren’t there, but you hummed affirmatively anyways. The waiter brought the check, breaking the man out of what appeared to be deep thought. It was a fast transaction, and finally, the night was winding down to an end.

Ever the chivalrous man, Ardyn walked you to your living spaces. “Thank you for tonight,” you bowed deeply. “It was an honor to spend alone time with the Chancellor,”  the pleasantries slipped from your lips. It was a shock to find his fingers flicking your forehead, and you recoiled at the slight sensation.

“I thought I told you long ago not to act so, hmm, how to say… kiss-assy with me just cause you work for me,” the man rarely swore so you couldn’t fight the full smile and laugh that was drawn from you. He seemed pleased to have garnered such a reaction. “Sorry,” you managed to get out after another laugh.

“Well, dearest, it appears the night out is over. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience.” You nodded in agreement. “I shall see you once the work week begins,” the ever cheeky Ardyn leaned down to give a kiss to your forehead where he had previously flicked it before quickly turning and waving goodbye.

As you tried to sleep, your face heated every time you thought of the peck. You were aware that the majority of his flatteries were empty, but it still gave you butterflies. You had never let anyone share contact like that with you after all. A deep sigh rose out of you, you had to brush off all the strange feelings before work began as usual; however, you didn’t know if Ardyn would ever let you do so. The man certainly knew how to press buttons you didn’t know existed.

‘What a pain.’

[mithranqueersmusings]

Before This Dance Is Through XV

Chapter: 15/16

Rating: T

Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.

Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Ringo stayed at John's for the remainder of the day, he ordered in dinner for the both of them and they sat in front of the television while they ate. Ringo did his usual routine of cleaning up small things around the house, like offering to do all the washing up because he'd already started cleaning up a plate or two, or taking the bins out because he wanted a bit of fresh air; Ringo imagined that John knew exactly what he was doing, he didn't try to be overly subtle about it any more, but he was a little too embarrassed to say thank you because it would be an acknowledgement that he needed help in the first place.

The day soon turned into night, Ringo always found that time flew whenever he was with John. Ringo had offered to drive the two of them over to the club, considering he'd driven all the way here in the first place, but John wanted to ensure they didn't leave too early.

"Paul likes to have his breaks near the end of his shift, and I can't really interrupt him working so we'll have to wait for him to take a break." John explained with a mouth full of Chinese food.

"Are you gonna tell me exactly what's going on with Paul? Or are you just gonna keep me in suspense all night?" Ringo asked, he'd already essentially figured out what their dynamic was but he wanted to hear John's version of it.

"I'd tell you if I knew." John smiled, more to himself than anyone else "We just seem to gravitate towards each other, you know?"

Ringo made an affirming noise while he ate, part of him wishes he didn't know. He'd never seen John so taken with someone before, usually he was moving around from person to person without much of a care. Ringo had figured John had just stopped telling him about his array of one night stands, but with Paul in the picture he realised there simply hadn't been any. All this obsession with getting Ringo out in the world to find somebody had clearly been a major deflection on John's part.

Even though Ringo was anxious to get to the club as soon as possible, as much as he'd been hesitant at first to agree with going he'd rather face whatever was waiting for him there, but this was ultimately John's night and hopefully his big moment, and Ringo could never sabotage that.

They left at around 2 in the morning, Ringo knew he'd regret staying up this late come tomorrow but it was too late to turn back now. He could feel John's excitement as he sat beside him in the car, it was refreshing to see a genuine smile on his face again. He'd scrawled down the poem on a page in his journal and ripped it out as neatly as he could, it was the most presentable Ringo had ever seen John's handwriting.

There was nobody loitering outside the club which was a sign it was fairly empty inside, this satisfied John as he knew he'd be able to get Paul alone but Ringo felt unnerved by the idea that he'd be far more visible to George. John led the way excitedly, the poem folded up inside his jacket pocket.

"Need a drink to settle my nerves." John announced as he headed to the empty bar, Ringo just followed behind him silently.

The club was sparse, there were about two or three small groups hanging around and several loners; it meant that Ringo could get a perfectly clear view of the main stage where the one and only George was dancing. Ringo almost didn't recognise him, he was sluggish and slouched with a distant look in his eyes. Was he drunk? Ringo watched him from the bar, hopefully shrouded in the relative darkness, trying to figure out what was going on. John followed his line of sight after ordering his drink and gulped dramatically loud.

"What's gotten into him?" John asked "Didn't realise sleeping with you was so deadly."

"I dunno..." Ringo spoke softly, his eyes were fixed on George.

John led the way closer to the stage in his search for Paul, Ringo would really rather stay hidden for now but he didn't have much of a choice. As he got closer, Ringo could see just how inebriated George was: his eyes were heavy and unfocused, he stumbled a little as he tried to move across the stage. He'd never been drunk before at work, as far as Ringo knew, so why now?

"I'm gonna go check if Paul's in the back." John explained "Just wait for me here, I shouldn't be too long. I'll text you if something happens and you should head home, okay?"

Ringo nodded slowly, he was hardly listening to what John was saying "Sure. "

And so John slid away into the back of the club, Ringo could see him knocking on the staff only door and waiting anxiously. John looked over at him for a moment and made a dramatically anxious face, Ringo let out a small laugh and held up his thumb to encourage him. He wished John was the only thing he had to worry about right now, but lately things hadn't seemed to be going as Ringo wished they had.

There were a few people waving money around at the front of the stage, eager for George to give them a quick lapdance, they didn't seem to notice the change in George's behaviour. Ringo stayed near the back, hesitantly taking a seat and observing as best he could. George was dancing as he usually did, partially clothed with a great deal of hip thrusts, but something was definitely off. Ringo wasn't sure what to do, if he should do anything at all, but sitting there and watching felt wrong somehow. Was he merely no longer so impressive because Ringo had slept with him? He didn't think it was the case, but he couldn't understand why tonight would be the first time George had seemed so strange to him.

At one point George seemed to suddenly notice the money being practically thrown in his direction, what he'd been focusing on before Ringo couldn't tell, so began making his way off the stage as steadily as he could manage. He was wearing heeled boots, nowhere near as high as the ones Ringo had seen him in before, but tall enough that he began to stumble as he tackled the steps. Nobody seemed to care that he was struggling, perhaps the audience were are all far too drunk to even notice themselves. Ringo wasn't though, he still had half his drink left and wasn't planning on finishing it any time soon, not with George in a state like this.

Ringo only seemed to blink, to take his eyes away for less than a second, and George was suddenly falling down onto the floor. Nobody reacted, nobody except Ringo who was out of his seat instantly. Unfortunately he hadn't been quick enough, George fell face first into one of the empty tables and smacked his face off of the hard metal, the noise rang out louder than the thumping music. As he hit the floor, some of the audience let out a pantomime groan yet still remained in their seats. George managed to get himself off of the floor, he didn't seem to realise at first that Ringo had been helping him up to his feet. His nose and lip were bleeding pretty badly, red pouring down his chin and onto the floor. George moved his hand sluggishly to touch his bruised face, looking at the remnants of blood on his fingertips in confusion.

"Is there a first aid kit anywhere?" Ringo asked alarmed.

George nodded, finally turned his head to face Ringo; his movements were so slow that Ringo could see the realisation spreading across his face.

"Ringo..." George slurred, his teeth were painted red "What are you-"

"Don't worry about that, we need to get you fixed up." Ringo tightened his grip around George and began walking the two of them over to the staff room.

George made a quiet noise, Ringo wasn't quite sure what he was trying to say, but the important thing was that he allowed Ringo to lead him away from the stage. The music was still pounding even when the stage was empty, it seemed to signal to a lot of the stragglers that it was time to go home. George limped a little as he walked, Ringo supposed he must've twisted his ankle as he fell or something.

"You're always... Always coming to my rescue." George mumbled as they approached the door.

"You're always in need of rescuing." Ringo spoke gently, the way you'd speak to an old person who'd lost their hearing "What's the code for the door?"

George turned his head to face the keypad, it rolled heavily on his neck, then he pressed four of the numbers sluggishly and a quiet hum could be heard which signified the door being unlocked. George then rested almost all of his weight on Ringo, his head falling to the side, luckily he wasn't too heavy. Ringo had to kick the door open with his foot, it was extremely awkward to do with such an unexpected burden, but he managed it.

"Jesus Christ!" A voice called out as the door violently opened, it was Paul.

Ringo had almost forgotten that John had even come back here, and judging by the surprised look on John's face he'd forgotten all about Ringo too. John's poem was spread open on the countertop, facing towards where Paul was sitting. The two of them moved erratically when the door opened, but Ringo was certain he caught a glimpse of a heated kiss; the redness of their lips was enough of a giveaway. Ringo managed to get George into the room and down onto one of the benches, the heavy door swung closed and locked behind them. He wished he'd be able to relish this moment of victory for John, but there were more important things to be dealt with.

"What happened?" Paul practically jumped out of his seat and over to George, who sat slumped against the wall with blood still dripping down his face.

"He fell." Ringo explained, letting out a huff of air as he caught his breath "Why's he so pissed? Who let him go out there like that?"

Paul looked over a John with wide eyes then turned back to Ringo "I tried to get him to stop drinking, but there's only so much I can do."

"Suppose it doesn't really matter now. Do you have a first aid kit at least?" Ringo asked, both his face and voice were hard.

Paul nodded then began rooting around under the counter, while he did so Ringo and John shared a knowing look: Ringo raised his eyebrows inquisitively, and John winked in response. That was all he needed to know for now. Paul pulled out a rather heavy first aid kit and opened it desperately, but before he could begin looking for anything, Ringo gently pushed him out of the way.

"Can you get him some water? I'll deal with this." Ringo demonstrated his words by picking up some antiseptic wipes and plasters.

Paul nodded again then headed over to the small sink in the corner, finding a relatively clean mug from the overhead cupboard and filling it with water.

"Can I help at all?" John asked but remained comfortably seated.

"Don't think so." Ringo sighed as he sat down beside George who had begun falling asleep or slipping unconscious, it was difficult to tell "Are you alright George?"

George groaned in response "Why does my face feel like shit?"

"Looks like shit too." Paul commented as he tried to pass the water over to George, but he didn't even seem to notice it "You need to drink some water, George."

"Piss off." George almost whispered, Paul screwed his face up slightly in annoyance but didn't let it deter him from his mission, he pressed the mug against his lips and waited for them to open, which they eventually did, then he gently poured water into his mouth.

George drank almost the entire mug, Ringo didn't suppose he was entirely aware of what he was doing, then let out another groan "Tastes like blood."

"That'd be the blood." John quipped from the other side of the room.

Paul retreated back over to the sink to fill the mug up again, while he did so Ringo opened up the wipes and began cleaning up George's face as best he could. George struggled against the contact for a while but eventually gave in, his eyes were closed the entire time.

"Why are you so pissed, George?" Ringo asked in a hushed tone, gently wiping around his nose.

"He didn't show up." George mumbled almost unintelligibly.

Ringo paused "Who didn't?"

"Ringo." George answered, Ringo almost wanted to laugh at how unaware he was.

"Fucking hell." John laughed as Paul returned with more water, he shot John a glance of warning.

"Drink." Paul demanded softly, pressing the mug against his lips once more.

George obliged but only drank about half, then pushed it away aggressively and spilled some water onto the floor "I'm fine." He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut even harder.

"You don't look fine." John called out once more.

"Or sound fine." Paul agreed "What's gotten into you?"

George rolled his head to the side and moaned again "Why didn't he come?"

Paul looked at Ringo anxiously, it told him all he needed to know about what had happened that night. It looked like George had wanted Ringo there after all, not only that but he gravely missed his presence so immensely that he drank himself almost to sleep. Just when Ringo thought he was getting George all figured out, something like this would happen. He wasn't quite sure what to do in this situation, was it better for him to be there at all? Ringo had managed to get rid of most of the blood on his face at least, it looked like most of the bleeding had fortunately stopped. He opened up a plaster and tentatively pressed it against the cut on George's nose, he almost felt like shivering when his fingers brushed against the skin.

George struggled again when he felt Ringo's fingers "Paul, stop..." He scrunched his eyes up tightly, trying to move his body away but evidently he didn't feel able to, then he opened his eyes to protest further but the words died in his mouth.

Ringo saw realisation spreading across George's face for a second time, but he had a feeling this time would be a little more permanent. George's face softened almost immediately, his mouth was hanging open as though he were still about to speak. Ringo could even tell that he'd been crying, when or how much was impossible to see, but knowing that he'd cried at some point tonight was enough.

"Ringo..." George breathed out "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you." Ringo replied with a sweet smile "I would've come sooner if I'd have known you'd get like this."

George turned his head slightly to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror, it was only now that he realised the state he was in "What happened to me?"

"You fell coming off the stage." Ringo explained, he inspected George's face for anything else in need of care.

"Shit." George almost laughed, but it didn't come out properly "What time is it?"

"Nearly closing." Paul answered, he'd sat back down opposite John again "You're lucky we're so empty or you'd be in deep shit."

"Don't you start on me Paul." George furrowed his brows, but it was hard for him to look intimidating while he was swaying slightly as he sat "You're always going over your break time to talk to what's-his-face, and I don't say shit."

"Allow me to introduce myself." John announced "John What's-His-Face, a pleasure to meet you."

All three of them laughed, Ringo louder than anyone, George had only just noticed John's presence.

"What matters is that you're alright, George. Everybody just calm down, it looks like it's been a long night." Ringo tried to clear the energy of the room.

"You're telling me." George sighed, resting his head against the wall.

John stood up rather abruptly "I'm going for a smoke, care to join me Paul?"

Paul got up out of his seat too "Please."

John led the way to the fire exit at the back of the room, holding it open for Paul to walk past him first. Ringo let out a chuckle at the sight of the two of them conspicuously hurrying away together. He figured he must've interrupted some pretty important stuff, that they evidently were eager to continue. The door slammed shut behind them and silence followed, George had closed his eyes once again and Ringo was just staring at him cautiously.

"What's going on, George?" Ringo asked, quietly as though the two outside could still hear them.

George let out a pained chuckle "Fuck if I know."

Ringo paused, tightening his lips, somewhat frustrated "Did you get like this because I didn't come earlier?"

George let out a heavy sigh "If I said no, would you believe me?"

"No, I wouldn't." Ringo answered gently.

"Then yes, I did. I thought you weren't coming, so I had a few drinks." George explained, his eyes still closed "A few turned into a lot which turned into me falling over like a prat."

"But... Why?" Ringo asked "I'm not here for one night and you drink yourself stupid?"

George sighed again, then tilted his head to the side and opened his eyes slowly so that he was looking directly at Ringo "I thought you wouldn't come back at all. Why would you? I don't even know why you're still sitting here after seeing me like this."

Ringo tutted "You're impossible, do you know that?"

"So I've been told." George attempted a grin, but the movement of his lips pained him and he hissed.

"I told you I wanted to see you again, and I meant it." Ringo began somewhat intensely "You need to get it out of your head that I'm going anywhere; as long as you want me here, I'll be here."

George's brows knitted together sadly "I just don't know if I can risk it. Not again."

Ringo placed his hand over George's, it was scuffed up slightly from the fall "What's the risk? Seems like being with me is the safer option, if I'm honest, far safer than almost breaking your neck on stage like that at least."

George chuckled "You might be the nicest guy I've ever met. What could you possibly see in a git like me?"

Ringo squeezed George's hand "Well right now I see an idiot with a bloody nose; I see someone who's in desperate need of some sleep."

"You might be right there." George sighed "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for tonight to go like this."

"Neither did I, yet here we both are." Ringo smiled "Come on, I'll drive you home."

Ringo stood up and extended his hand out to George, who looked at him somewhat cautiously.

"There you go being nice again, do you know how hard it is to hate you?" George accepted the hand and pulled himself up.

"I could say the same to you." Ringo let go of his hand after a while "I'll just go and see whether John wants a ride home."

"I'd be careful interrupting those two, never know what you're gonna walk in on." George warned, but it only made Ringo's smile wider.

Ringo opened the door far slower than he had before, giving John and Paul enough time to pull away from one another before he was fully outside. He pretended that he hadn't seen anything, even the hickey beginning to form on Paul's neck.

"I'm gonna drive George home. Are you coming John?" Ringo stood against the door, he knew he wasn't going to be out here long.

John paused and looked over to Paul, who shook his head as discreetly as he could manage. The two of them looked like a deer in headlights, their eyes wide and their mouths slightly open.

"No, no, I'm good." John answered suspiciously slow "You go on without me."

Ringo smiled knowingly at them "Sure thing. Let me know when you get home safe."

"Will do." John replied before Ringo slipped back into the warmth of the room.

George had thrown on his coat and was currently looking at himself closely in the mirror, inspecting the cut in his mouth from where his teeth had cut the flesh when he fell. When he noticed Ringo had returned, he pulled away quickly and flashed him an innocent smile.

"You ready?" Ringo asked as he stepped further into the room "You better not be sick in my car."

"I can't make any promises." George continued to smile drunkenly.

Ringo rolled his eyes playfully "Can you walk alright on your own?"

"I wouldn't say no to some extra support." George walked over to Ringo's side, exaggerating his limp as he did.

"I don't think this is gonna make it any easier to hate me." Ringo suggested as they made their way to the door.

George paused for a moment then tightened his grip around Ringo's arm "I think I might have to give up on that."

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XV: Northern Light Robbery

Let’s get one thing out of the way: once I set my sights on a target, I wasn’t about to rest until I had the target in my possession. Didn’t matter what it was. Didn’t matter whether or not I needed it. All that mattered was that I had it.

“Excuse me?” I called out one day, awakened from a power nap. The time, indeterminate. There were a couple of my men beside me in my quarters, one on each side of me, both heavy sleepers. Before anyone asked, if there was such a person who had the gall to ask, yes, they agreed. While I took anything I desired by force, I still treated the ones who worked for me well, and made sure everyone was well fed and had their basic needs met. It just so happened that for the majority of my crew and I, we shared a mutual interest in carnal pleasures. Everyone who joined seemed to have a certain degree of interest in each other, and an equal degree of interest in me.

But that didn’t mean they didn’t see me as an authority, and at the end of the day, I was still their boss. Once I had a destination, or an object, in mind, there were no if’s, and’s, or but’s about it.

All that to say, those two underlings right next to me were not my concern at that moment. No, what was my concern was the fourth occupant, some unknown entity who stared right at me.

“Excuse me?” I called again. “Who the hell is this?”

She stood covered in raggedy robed clothing, with what looked like soot (or snow. Remember, location) in her hair. Or maybe it was dandruff. Either way, her hair looked stringy, straggly, and hard to determine whether blonde or gray. Eyes wide, like the eyes of a child. But not one on the verge of puppy dog tears, but a different look. It reminded me of the way I used to treat gumball machines when I was little and my ambition had yet to surface.

One of my men shuffled out of sleep and emerged, hunched over in a not-quite-sitting-up fashion.

“Eh boss, who the hell is that?” He pointed his meaty finger at the stranger and asked.

“Hell if I know, dimwit,” I grunted. Yeah, so I wasn’t the only mind being boggled, but it sounded like Captain-Fucking-Obvious coming from one of my underlings. I made it a habit of mine to know everyone who worked for me.

“You got five seconds,” my voice grew stern, like a commander’s voice ought to be. Even on the off chance that this outlier didn’t know who I was (which she ought to, given that I made a name for myself ‘round these parts), I still had to show that I was the authority. “Tell me who you are and what you are doing here or I’ll kick you kick you out into the frozen wilderness. Then nature can decide what to do with you.”

Undeterred, she continued to stare, and a smile began to take shape.

“I am human.”

Those were the first words to come out of her mouth, her voice soft and flaky, with a hint of frost, something which I couldn’t quite explain or make sense of, but seemed an apt descriptor. Unsatisfied, I gave it some more thought. Her voice sounded familiar to me, but not in any point of my life had I known anyone with a voice quite like that. In a way, I was reminded me of a snow globe, but that too didn’t quite sound right. I grew frustrated, so while I wasn’t ready to give up, I decided to put such a minuscule detail on the back burner for the time being.

I watched as she clasped her hands together and closed her eyes. Again with that ‘No Shit Sherlock’ rhetoric which I wasn’t awake enough to deal with.

“I walked. Then I saw something I didn’t know about. So I walked in and now I am here,” she spoke again. With the same timbre and everything. Yes, that was it: timber. Her voice reminded me of the sound a tree made as it fell to the ground, or when wind shakes the branches of a tree, its contents falling down. Yet with all of that, there was a confidence in there which was both comforting and irritating.

“You expect me to believe that?” I retorted as I sifted around the blankets for the nearest pistol. As I did so, I felt her gaze not leaving me for even a second, and she answered my question with one of her own:

“Did I speak with any expectations?”

If anyone else aboard said that, I would have thought they were looking for a fight. I’d probably have smacked them upside the head with one of my pistols. Hell, I could already feel my blood start to boil, but the temperature in my bloodstream must have slowed to a simmer, as her inflection indicated no malice. Rather, they seemed to carry the same sense of wonder that she must have entered with.

She blinked.

“Maybe as a human, I should have expectations. I still have much more to learn. Amen.”

“What the…” I mouthed the words, but managed to get my act together. In fact, with her poor appearance, I was reminded of a little story. You know the one.

“Lemme guess: your father abused you and kicked you out on the streets and won’t let you come home ‘til you sell me something. That it?”

Her smile never left her, and she just looked at me with that same curiosity.

“What is a father?” She asked.

“Aw, poor thing don’t even know what a dad is,” the other man woke up now and chimed in. That bastard.

“Shut up, Barney,” I barked the order.

“Aye, boss,” he took my order with no complaints.

“You know. Your parents. Where they at?” I wrested the conversation back into my control.

“Maybe I have parents,” she stated. For something so uncertain, she didn’t sound any less confident. More like a ‘maybe I lost a few marbles, maybe I didn’t’ kind of thing.

Enough. I forced myself out of bed, took my belt, and tightened it around my waist.

“Barney, Russell,” I commanded. “Disperse back to your quarters. As for you,” I looked down at what I still thought to be a lost child, even if that didn’t really sit right with me. “You’re coming with me.”

She didn’t nod. Didn’t state that she agreed, either. Rather, she walked around the room and ran her fingers down the rusted, metallic walls.

“Interesting,” she remarked. Rather than scold her, I decided to walk out of the room. If she didn’t follow, so be it. I would have one of my men take her and throw her out. Down each cart I went, as I passed by the kitchen first. Just a dusty old sink with a few pots and pans in it, never used. Cobwebs formed, and a cabinet under the sink with nothing in the cabinet. At least not since the last time I checked.

Such a thing wouldn’t have needed a mention, but I heard that voice behind me once more.

“I’ve seen such things before. This must be where you make food,” she observed. I glanced back and there she was, right behind me.

“We eat what we steal. We have no need to cook,” I grumbled as I trudged on. I should have sounded more triumphant, as most people couldn’t make such a bold claim.

“What an interesting way to live. I have more to learn.”

“Yeah, well most people don’t have the privilege to live the way my men and I do. But I saw a train full people one day and decided that’s what I wanted to claim as my own. I knew what I wanted and took it,” I boasted.

“Do you know what you want now?” She asked. I didn’t expect such a response, but then when I gave it some thought, I didn’t know why I didn’t expect it.

“No, but when I do, I’ll take it. That’s why we roam around these parts. The Aurora Borealis Bandits, they call us, or they will if they know what’s good for them. We follow the northern lights and take what we can get our hands on.”

It was only after the words escaped from me that I realized how much I enjoyed describing the little crew I had. It made me feel powerful and I wondered how long it was since I had been able to announce ourselves in such a powerful way.

“I see. I am in the presence of the Aurora Borealis Bandits. What a nice name for a group.”

“You better believe it!” I continued to dominate the conversation, and soon every word was carried with a grinning excitement. “And you’d do well to remember that name!”

“You must be in that group,” was her reply, and to my shock and delight, I turned to a bellyful of laughter.

“I’m not only IN that group, I’m the leader!” I pointed my thumb to my chest and looked up. I am Aurora B!”

She clapped her hands. “How delightful of a name. Aurora.”

Delightful? What about intimidating? Striking fear into the hearts of me? I thought, but instead, decided to let her in on a little bit of trivia.

“Well, my parents named me Eos, but we don’t need to go there. Got it?”

“Aurora,” she repeated. “Latin for ‘dawn’. You could also be Dawn!” She sounded like she made such a revelation, I almost felt heartbroken to strike her down, but I had to keep my authority.

“No. I’m not Dawn. I’m Aurora B.”

“So you are Aurora, but not Dawn. I didn’t know a human could be one, but not the other. I have much to learn about naming conventions.”

“Nah, it’s whatever,” I waved my hand aside. “If I let something like that get to me, I wouldn’t look so tough, would I?”

“Get to you?” She asked, as if what I said didn’t quite register to her. By then, we had already traveled three cars down. The train wasn’t in motion at the moment, stopped in the middle of the forest. If I had to guess, either Northern Canada or Siberia, although one was far from the other. Most of the time, I didn’t know the exact location. As long as my crew followed the northern lights, that was all right with me.

If we were in motion, I imagine the little ‘tour’ I was giving this newcomer would have been much less steady, with one or both of us falling over multiple times. Unpleasant, but that’s the price I paid for luxury.

“Here is where we keep our weapons,” I pointed out. Another instance, “and this is where we keep our bounties: money we rob and other treasures. Coming up is the pantry. No, I don’t know why it’s so far from the sink, but it doesn’t really matter since we don’t even use the damn thing. I’ll getcha an apple. You’re probably hungry.”

“I could be hungry. I haven’t given it consideration,” there she went again in her usual curious fashion. I took a detour to the pantry, pulled out an apple, and threw it to her. She looked at the apple, then back to me.

“Humans eat apples. I can eat apples,” she stated, and I wasn’t sure whether or not that was meant as a question or a statement. But as usual, if I continued to dwell on such a thing, I’d be there all day.

As we passed by one of the living quarters, she noted, “there are many humans here.” That kind of struck me in a funny way, but I couldn’t get mad about it. There was an air about her that brought out the life in me and reminded me how exhilarating my lifestyle could be. It was as if something told me, “if you live like a Queen, you ought to revel in your majesty.”

At last, we got to the last car and I saw the back doors wide open, the sharp gusts of winds inviting themselves in with chills so brisk that I swore they could carve cuts through my cheeks. As strong as the frozen tundra was, I had to prove stronger. So I inched forward and held onto the handle to one of the double doors as I struggled to pull it back. It didn’t help that the wind was pushing against me, something I really didn’t want to think about, but damn, it sure gave me a work out. I pulled harder, and as I managed to get the door closer to me, there was a screeching sound that must have pierced the cars behind us. Once one door was set in place, I went to the other door and repeat the process, which at that point I already felt like I pulled a muscle, but getting the doors closed was important than muscle.

After sealing the doors shut, I stood hunched over and drew labored and heavy breaths. My vision blurred, as well, and I must have been about ready to pass out. Not a good look for someone like me, but everything turned to static and my ears popped. Every part of my body indicated a desire to fall over and faint, but I got just the wake-up call I needed when I turned around and just about jumped in place.

There the girl was, with her mouth wide open as she tried to stick the whole apple in her mouth. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Just who...who did such a thing?!

I think the most impressive thing about it was that she succeeded, to an extent, with half of the apple sticking out, and the other half in her mouth. Damn, talk about pulling muscles.

“You’re going to choke on it!” I gasped. Well...I didn’t really think she could stick the whole thing in her mouth, but either way, it baffled me, to say the least. Not that I wasn’t baffled by her behavior before.

I snatched the apple from out of her mouth and scolded her.

“Don’t you know how to eat an apple? You take a bite! Like this!” I tore through the crisp flesh of the apple and swallowed the piece. “There! Now you try!”

She clapped. “That was interesting!”

I handed the apple back to her. She examined it, then took a little bite.

As she chewed about, I stared at her. I could still feel a draft in the air, and the howls from the wind outside were loud enough to seep through and break what otherwise would be an intense silence.

What started as a stare of examination, curiosity, even, became an exercise in insanity. True, she spoke as if everything around her was a curious sight, but there was something...off...about her that made her something of a curiosity as well. I awaited her next move, but as time went on, she continued to chew. And chew.

“Swallow!” I just about screeched out the command as I stamped my foot against the metallic floor. Its clang echoed, though she did not appear started. With one gulp, she did as instructed, then looked down and smiled.

“Thank you. Amen.”

That whole ordeal was one bite of an apple. One measly bite.

“Now that that’s out of the way, let me make one thing clear, Ms. Whoever-You-Are,” I crossed my arms and leaned forward. It really did seem like I was talking down to a child.

“Astraea,” she spoke, her same soft and enchanted voice. At first I thought she said ‘ashtray’, but my poor popped ears were to blame for that one. “Star maiden. Starry night.”

An overrated Van Gogh painting, I thought, as I hadn’t yet made the connection that she had told me her name and what it meant, and wasn’t just spouting random nonsense.

“All right, then, Astray-ugh,” I put a disgusting emphasis on the ‘ugh’ part at the end. “Listen up: If you’re going to stay here, you’re going to need to bust your ass.”

She raised her hand. “What does that mean?” She asked.

“It means you’ve gotta work...look, how old are you, anyway?”

“Old?”

Did she not know anything? Just what kind of life has she had?

“You know, how long have you been alive for?”

“Oh!” Her face grew more animated and her voice was matched with a smile. “I have existed as a human for 18 years!”

Eighteen? But she looks half that! No matter how I look at her, I just can’t picture her as an adult! No way!

Those were my thoughts, but I shook them off and accepted her words at face value, however incredible they may have been.

“As I was saying, before we got sidetracked, as long as you are here, you’re going to be put to use. Most of the crew here are good for two things: heists and robberies. What we lack around here is someone to clean up the damn place! Come with me!” I commanded.

In response, she gave a short nod, along with her bright smile. It seemed like the one light in this cold, dark home made of rusty machinery.

We walked back to the previous car we were in and all along the walls were a series of bars. There were makeshift beds and pillows lined up on the floor, though it really wasn’t the comfiest of places to sleep. I liked to think that everyone made the most of it, and I always swore that one of these days, we would exchange some of the money we’ve accumulated over the years for better means of rest. It just hadn’t yet happened, and it didn’t help matters that we were always on the run, looking for the next target. If not for the fact that we slept where we ran, it would seem like we didn’t have much of a home.

“There,” I pointed to one space that wasn’t occupied by sheets and pillows. “That is where you can stay. Wait right there and don’t move.”

“I can do that,” she replied, as breathy as ever. “Amen.”

Her mannerisms never ceased to baffle me, and when I returned with a bucket of soap water and a sponge, she stood in place, just as I told her to, and stared off, eyes wide. If I stopped for just a second, I would have been just a little unnerved. Me, Aurora B, who struck fear into the hearts of anyone, scared by a little kid. No. I couldn’t have that.

I knelt down and set the bucket next to her.

“I want the floors and the walls all wiped off. This train used to look shiny and now look at it!” I ordered her, and she turned her head in a slow, stilted manner, and looked up. I gulped, and felt the hairs on my neck stand.

“How will I do that?” She asked at last, with not a hint of ill-will in her voice. Just the same, breathy timbre.

My nerves and I couldn’t stand it! I took that sponge and did a quick wiping motion on the wall. “Just like that! Get to work!”

She smiled, looked down and closed her eyes, then said, “thank you. Amen.”

I stormed off. To think I would find myself in a situation where I would have to walk someone through things so basic, it was beneath me. Not only that, but I wasn’t used to having my word go unquestioned. Throughout my life, I lived by one philosophy: to take whatever I wanted without compromise.

For most people, I might have seemed like someone with a troubled childhood. “Oh, where did she go wrong? She had so much potential.” But no, my parents loved me and raised me just fine, I didn’t go wrong anywhere, and hell yes, I had potential. It just so happened that my potential was realized in something that many didn’t approve of.

There was little need to dwell on the, ‘how I got there’, or little meaningless crap like that. What good was the past when the present was far more valuable? That said, if I were to trace back the origins, my earliest memory would probably have been when I was a child, not much older or younger than that kid, Astraea. Oh wait, she said she was eighteen. Well, I was probably half that, then.

Funny enough, I remembered being with my parents, and we were at some store. If I had to guess, it was a department store. My father went to go look at hunting equipment, and my mom kept a close eye on me. So far, so good, so hey Freud, fuck you.

I think it was in the middle of some junk food aisle when the urge overcame me; I saw a candy bar on the shelf, some dark chocolate sea salt bar with little peanut and toffee bits. I could remember (and taste) its bittersweet and salty goodness even now. Back when it happened, I had no idea what it tasted like other than the packaging enticed me: its gold foil frame, with a smooth auburn paper wrapping over it. Big, bold letters.

So I grabbed it. My mom noticed, told me to put it back, that she wasn’t about to buy that, but those words only sealed the deal on how much that chocolate bar mattered. It was, by all accounts, my forbidden fruit.

I didn’t put it back. Well, I made it look like I put it back. I turned my back to my mom, stuffed the bar in the waist end of my pants, with the other half under my shirt. I must’ve thought I was the smartest little shit in the toilet bowl, but when it came time to leave the store, I was stopped by security guards who told me that my actions were caught on camera. They lectured me on how shoplifting was bad, blah, blah, blah, like anyone (especially at that age) really cared what they had to say. To me, they were the ones who committed that crime, and that crime was taking from me what I wanted.

Needless to say, my resolve wasn’t broken, and instead, strengthened. Now, it wasn’t enough to be a thief. Anyone could take something and not get caught, if they were just a little clever about it. I, however, couldn’t give less of a fuck about getting found out, as long as I proved the victor and got what I wanted.

Day in, and day out, I trained in much the same ways a child would play: I took things like tag and hide and seek very seriously. More so, tag. If I was spotted, I’d just have to make it a habit to run fast enough to slip away. Whether it meant a new hiding place or not. Maybe my ambitions matched my age, but I wasn’t naive. I knew the risks, I knew that there would be cameras, and I knew there was a good chance that those same security guards would stand at those doors, and it would be all too easy for them to grab onto me. If that happened, I didn’t imagine myself just getting off with a warning. You know that old saying, “you don’t get lucky twice”.

On one lucky day, I found myself back at that store with my parents. An overconfident child like me shouldn’t have been able to last, but wouldn’t you have it? It happened: I held that chocolate bar once more in my hands. Not only that, but I held it up. If there were going to be cameras on me, I may as well not hide it. I must’ve thought, look at it, boys. Come and get it, if you think you can.

Not only were there security guards, but there were people who worked there all over going, “anything I can help you with?” Which, if I had my wits about me, I’d just say “yeah you can shut up and let me walk out of here with what I want,” but instead, I just made it into a little game of hide and go seek tag. They would have to find me, and not only that, but they would have to catch me. Oh, and I was fast.

Once I was near the doors, I slid between those two security guards as if it were a baseball game and I just went for a home run. Then, before they could grab me, I bolted.

From there, it was the classic runaway kid story. My parents must have been a combination of worried and furious. There must have been a search, or something. Say what you want, but I wasn’t about to drag them when they acted with care, with safety in mind, and always treated me well enough. It just so happened that being treated well wasn’t enough for me. Not when I had a prize in my sights.

My next few exploits were more of a blur, other than life on the streets wasn’t hard for very long. With each new thing I saw and wanted, I gained just a little more in turn. But damn, that first time, being so little, and biting into that chocolate bar as I sat, undisturbed, on top of a shipping container in the middle of a dock.

Somewhere along the way, I set my sights high enough to be a tried and true bank robber. Now that, I remembered not going as smooth as planned, but I couldn’t remember whether I served any time or managed to escape, or what. Damn, sometimes my memories weren’t very helpful. All those vague gaps and all that. Either way, I remember not getting those leafy greens that I so desired in my diet. But I impressed a few people, and they decided to join me in my exploits.

Little by little, our crew grew bigger. We traveled all over, even faked our deaths at times to throw others off our trail. Now, I didn’t want to get into logistics, but as far as I saw it, our train hideout was our crowning achievement. That thing was so advanced that it could move without the need for rails, something which I didn’t have the know-how to explain, but it just worked. Now, using it to travel around the arctic was probably a bad idea, given if we were to ride over thin ice, well...we’d be on thin ice. So it was a good thing that we had such a great navigator, one esteemed Allison Daughters, on our side.

Just a day after our strange inhabitant joined the crew, I woke up, a little more dignified, and trotted on down to check up on the one who I tasked with cleaning in exchange for a place to rest. However, I didn’t have to get very far to find her: she was in the car just behind where I slept, and in her hand was the sponge, all covered in soot, and she sat while scrubbing away at the walls.

“What are you doing?” I asked, almost in a yawn. I rubbed my eyes. I needed some scotch. Or coffee. No, a combination of the two.

She looked up and smiled. “I busted my ass, just as you requested. Amen,” her words floated in the air while her hand, with a circular motion, continued to scrub away.

I looked around, unable to deny her handiwork, and I swore, I could see bits of myself reflected on the walls. I couldn’t remember the last time it was that clean. If the ones I stole the train from knew what condition it had been in, they would’ve been more pissed about its negligent state than it being stolen. That I was sure of.

“All right...I can see that…” I growled. “But if I see just one speck of dirt on any of the other cars, there’s going to be hell to pay. Got that?”

“You say such interesting things,” she spoke while opting to scrub away rather than turn to me. I couldn’t even tell if her mouth moved or if I just heard her voice in my mind. Jeez, I really did need a drink, lest my head go places I didn’t want it to go.

Each car I patrolled, I was met with a beautiful sheen I wasn’t accustomed to. Indeed, much to my delight (and chagrin, as I really was hoping to dole out some punishment), the whole train reeked of polish. I growled, my blood boiled over, but more than that, I sighed before shaking my head and letting slip a smile.

“You sure are something, aren’t you?” I voiced my commendation with the closest I could muster to a compliment. Her efforts weren’t only noticed by me, however, as before I could return to tell that strange one good job, or some gruff equivalent, I was stopped when Russell ran up to me.

“Eh boss, when did we hire a maid service?” He pointed to the walls behind him.

My smile grew wider. “Just yesterday.”

Whether she would have been useful or not as part of the crew when we went on heists was something I was not keen on finding out, as I knew all too well the danger that went into our robberies. I knew that if I got my start being a bank robber, as opposed to starting small and working my way to where I was, my life would have gone in a much different direction. Possibly a shorter one. That said, there was a stark difference between how things were right before she arrived, and how things were after.

There was a period where we struggled, like, really struggled. As it turned out, being out in the middle of nowhere in the freezing cold and needing coal to keep warm wasn’t a walk in the park. Not just that, but the route we took, which bless Allison’s heart, she knew how to keep us out of trouble, left us with few options when it came to places to rob.

So in turn, we had to conserve more food, which made none of us happy, least of all me. We also had to share beds and cuddle to keep warm, which would have been fine if it was just to satisfy our sexual needs, but the needs we needed met instead weren’t very pleasing. Huddled together, all shivering as we tried to sleep, that was no way to live. But we had to make do and only use up our coal to move about.

But after Astraea? Damn. It was like night and day. New places were spotted where we got bigger hauls. Large stores with a treasure trove of goods, all with our names on them. If someone tried to give chase, we’d shoot them down without a second thought. Whether she had anything to do with it or not, I couldn’t help but think that we were back in our glory days and with it came improvements abound: bigger beds for everyone, better clothing, sources of entertainment, and most of all, loads and loads of coal. Gone were the worries about freezing to death in the confines of our home.

That little blessing in human form began to be known as our “good luck charm” and every time we went on a heist, at least one of us would remember to go over to Astraea and say, “wish me luck!” To which she would usually stare and say, “have fun.”

Afterward, once we were a safe enough distance from any pursuers, we would all gather around and lift that creature up and have her crowd surf over us.

Such was my life, but I couldn’t complain one bit.

That was, until one such job left a bad taste in my mouth:

We all grew desperate once again as we hit another dry spell. Few, if any places for days at a time, and when there were places, they didn’t hold much in them. Some were downright creepy. Like the abandoned research bases we would find, with dark halls, messes of broken lab equipment and papers strewn about, and not a soul to be found. It would have been nice if there was at least one thing of value to extract there, but upon seeing streaks of red on the walls, a greater chill ran down my spine than the simple winter chill: blood, dried blood. What happened here?

After that, we got out of there, and any time we spotted a place that looked abandoned, we just ignored it and moved on. I didn’t really believe myself to be afraid of ghosts, or even believe in them, but something about places like that just felt wrong.

Restless, I wanted to see signs of life and places to raid, I went up to our navigator, the conductor, Allison, and leaned my elbow on her shoulder.

“Speak to me, Allie.”

She looked up to me, and even with a worried expression, she was radiant. Her thick, orange hair, like thistle, and those freckles which ambushed her face, the only one in my crew who surpassed her in beauty was Russell Jimmies, but I wasn’t about to get into him when I wasn’t even next to him.

“Things aren’t good, captain.”

I grimaced.

“Here I was hoping you would whisper sweet little lies about how everything will be alright.”

“Not for you, and not for the sake of anyone else here.”

I began to wonder whether we hadn’t been paying as much attention to our good luck charm lately. Not that I was foolish to believe we actually had a good luck charm, but still, it was nice to imagine. I called for Russell over my microphone.

“Yo Russ. Get the hell up here!”

It wasn’t long before he hurried in, and I admired his face before addressing him in earnest. The way he had such high and visible cheekbones, the way he could never grow a beard, yet was always rugged with little whiskers. Then there was the matter of his eyebrows, so dark and thick, the most prominent part of him. In my head, I pictured him as the ideal Jack London protagonist. Once I was done studying him, I was ready to give my commandment:

“Go check up on our good luck charm, would ya?”

“Aye boss, sure thing,” he grunted.

As he ran off, I shook my head and smiled, just like how I was back when Astraea first cleaned our walls.

“I sure hope he doesn’t think I’m degrading him by making him do such a simple task,” I expressed my concern.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, captain,” Allison assured me. “We all admire you for a reason.”

Within a few minutes later, Russell ran back in with his report.

“Well?” I asked.

“She’s in her usual spot,” he replied. “I explained our situation to her as well as I could, and she said something like, ‘I too would like to see more humans’. You know how it is with her.”

That I did.

One such incident came to mind where after a successful heist, I decided to give the little snowflake a gift, so I went to her space and handed her one of those portable game consoles. After she took it, she looked up. Yes, there was the expected “thank you”, but she also asked, “what is this?”

To which I replied, “this is video games,” and pressed the power button. She looked down, then back up at me.

“So this is video games. Amen.”

If I recall, I asked her about it one day, whether she had fun with it, and she smiled and told me something like, “I came to a crossroads, and thus, made peace with it. Amen.”

I took that to mean that she didn’t want to play anymore. Which, fine, she had that right. Still, if it were me, I’d have been all over that thing.

After I was done in memory lane, I was back to the cold, harsh reality we faced.

“Well, I hate to admit it, but I too would like to see people,” I gave Russell my reply. It was less  desire for connection (why would I need that when I had my crew with me?) and more that I missed the feeling of watching others cower in fear as I hauled off their possessions.

There I went again, lost in my head. It took a gasp from Allison to break off the spell.

“There! There’s a building with its lights on!”

I looked out the window, and sure enough, there stood a long wooden building, two floors high, and smoke floating above their chimney. Then, I saw two figures next to the window, sat down with a look on their faces like they had little to mind but their own business. My initial excitement wore off when I thought of how normal everything looked.

“Hmm...I don’t know. This doesn’t look like it would have much of what we’re looking for. Besides, have we really stooped so low that we’ve gone from robbing big businesses to breaking into people’s homes?”

“Desperate times,” Allison reminded me.

I sighed. It wasn’t one of those happy sighs.

“Yeah. You’re right.” I stood up and announced. “Let’s do this, then.”

Allison’s eyes widened and she leaned up as well. “You mean…?” There was a tense excitement to her voice, and so I confirmed just what she suspected.

“That’s right,” I nodded, then yelled into the microphone on my lapel. “Get your weapons ready, everyone. I found us our next target.”

Part of me didn’t want to go, and would have rather kept moseying along. If this was someone’s home (even if it did look rather fancy), I didn’t just want to leave the folks with nothing.

Our train came to a grinding halt at our target’s door. I didn’t bother to check to see if the residents had gotten up from the commotion, as I was already in the weapons room and focused on getting the job done. With my trusty steel framed rifle loaded up, I led the charge and was the first one to step outside, into the soft, frosty soil. My heavy boots left an imprint and I wish I wore gloves as I could already start to see my skin go purple. I knew I should have worn heavier clothing, something else besides a turtleneck sweater, but it was too late to go back now. I wasn’t about to go back inside just to grab my jacket when I meant business.

“Wait out here,” I told a few members of my crew, each with rifles in hand. “You’ll be backup in case I can’t do this alone.”

Five crewmates in total stood outside next to me, each with their rifles in hand, and gave me a short nod. Each of them wore their coats. Good, at least they had sense. As my attention shifted back to the door in front of me, I stormed in and pushed it open, as a strong gust of wind forced its way beside me and slid debris of frost and dirt on the floor.

“Oh great, now I have to sweep that up!” I heard the squeaky voice of a short young woman with wavy green hair who I chose to ignore for the time being. My eyes darted around the room; sleek tile floorboards, booths and tables arranged around the perimeter of the room. In one of the booths to my left was a woman with black shoulder length hair who sat alone as she ate a sandwich. I didn’t notice many details, as her back was turned to me, as if my presence was of no concern to her. To my right, sat another woman, with a sleek brown shade to her, similar to the sheen of the sheen of the tables and floors. Likewise, was her brown, curly hair, which she had in a ponytail. Rather than look up, I noticed her focused on a set of cards spread out on the table.

Across from me and to my left stood a long counter with stools next to it. Behind that counter was the wall, with various glasses and ales hung from the wall.

Was this a tavern? Did I step in a tavern of all places?

Then, behind the wall was a window, which I could see pans and a stove top.

This isn’t somebody’s home at all. This is a restaurant, I came to the realization, and upon doing so, smiled a toothy grin.

“Uh, hey, miss, I don’t know, I’m sure it’s fine to be carrying around a big gun like that. Like, I don’t own the place, I don’t give a shit, really.”

That same voice, again. She sounded just a little irritated, but must not have processed the kind of situation she was in. Then again, it didn’t seem like any of the three women in the room paid me any mind. Well, all of that would change.

I heard that same small young lady with the attitude let out a heavy sigh of frustration.

“I know I’m supposed to be the waitress and all, but really, you can seat yourself, so the sooner you do, the sooner I can take your order.”

“Actually, I’m not hear for that.”

“Great, another pointless visitor,” she scoffed. That really ticked me off. I held my rifle up and my spread grin further, allowing a full view of all of my pearly whites (or yellow, but what did it matter?)

“I’m here to rob the place!” I announced, loud and proud.

That time, she heard, and she took a step back and shifted to a crouched stance. That’s what I wanted to see: agitation, pure fear. But instead…

“Finally! I’ve been waiting for a chance to put my practice into good use!” The waitress countered with a smirk of her own, as if she was pleased at the very prospect of danger. I saw her reach into her pocket and my mind turned toward it being a gun in her pocket, or something to distract me with. I’d rather have avoided a massacre as much as possible, so I shot my rifle upward, into the air as a warning shot.

That didn’t deter her, and I saw the object fly toward me, which meant I only had a second to react. I swung my rifle back down and blocked the object that had been thrown my way. I looked down to see that it was a knife.

She thought she could throw a knife at me? Me?!

In my peripheral, I noticed that the beauty playing cards was absent. Then I heard the thumps against the floor and turned to see her running toward me, hand balled into a fist, and threw her arm forward for a punch. Again, I acted fast and blocked with the metal frame of my gun.

“Ha! That’s more like it!” I couldn’t contain my excitement. “Been a while since someone put up a fight!”

“Sorry ‘bout that, lassie,” she replied with an attitude that was equal in excitement, but also carefree. “I was doing tarot readings for myself and got in the zone.”

She then used her other hand and grabbed onto my weapon as she tried to yank it toward her. I kept a firm grip, but then I realized that she wasn’t trying to take my weapon from me: she was trying to pull me up using my weapon and flip me over. Hell, she damn near did so, as I felt the force of her strength just about sweep me off my feet.

In a desperate move, I let go of my weapon and watched as she stumbled back, then I reached into my pocket and pulled out a pistol (it was always a good idea to and shot the rifle, which resulted in a small explosion. I huffed, and before I could so much as catch my breath, right beside me was the waitress again, with a knife in her hand, as she lunged herself at me.

I wasn’t as lucky that time, as I was too preoccupied with that other woman and had little time to prepare. That knife found its way in my underarm, just below my elbow and I grunted out in pain as I watched blood drip from out from that torn hole in my sleeve and onto the floor.

“That was my favorite turtleneck…” I growled. As far as I was aware, not one person among my crew knew how to sew. Needless to say, I was pissed. I grabbed onto that chick’s wrist, the same one connected to the hand she stabbed me with, and threw her across the room. After another huff, I was hunched over in a cold sweat.

“Listen up!” I barked. “I’m through playing games! I’m going to sweep this place clean!”

“You should tend to your stab wound before it gets infected,” came a low, dispassionate voice. I turned to my left in the direction that the voice came from: it was the woman with the sandwich in hands. Still minding her own business. For some reason, that just pissed me off further. Even when those other two saw me as a potential threat, that woman continued to sit there as if I didn’t even exist. Who did she think she was?

“You!” I growled. “You should be cowering in fear right about now. Like a good customer.”

She shrugged. “Not a customer.”

“Then what are you? If you work here, you should also either be cowering in fear, or doing all you can not to let this restaurant get robbed!”

“If you’re going to rob the place, just do it. I just wanna enjoy my sandwich,” she then turned her head, and I caught a glimpse of her face: a nice, sienna tan, and similar to Russell, a high cheekbone. Her silky hair that covered her forehead swept and flowed in a mesmerizing motion. Maybe the knife had hit an artery or a vein, because I was more entranced than I should have been.

“Someone get me some gauze,” I grumbled into the microphone attached to the nape of my turtleneck.

“You okay, boss?” I heard from the other end.

“Heh, just peachy. Just got a little caught off guard.”

“Need us to go in?”

I shook my head. “Not just yet.”

I noticed movements from the waitress next to the counter as she struggled to pick herself back up.

“Damn it, the only one allowed to throw me around is Remora,” I heard the waitress groan.

The hell? Who? And, more important, WHAT?!

“How’re you holding up, Demetria, dear?” The other woman who I had knocked down asked as she pulled herself up. She was covered in minor burns and bruises, but aside from that, still kicking.

“My ego’s wounded, but otherwise, I’ll be fine,” the waitress, who I presumed to be this Demetria person replied.

I pointed my pistol at Demetria, then the other woman on the floor.

“Now, don’t try anything.”

Beside me, the loathsome indifferent woman stood up and I thought I could see the faint trace of a smile on her face.

“Have you ever taken a life?” She asked.

I gulped, eyes wide, and taken aback. For a second, my brows unfurled and raised, but I soon returned to a scowl.

“Care to find out?” I groaned, as I wanted to sound more cool, but the pain in my arm stung and I couldn’t help but wince.

“It makes no difference to me. I’m not going to stop you. I just think that if you’re going to point a gun at people, you better be willing to make good on your threats.”

There it was again! I wasn’t just going to stand there and let some arrogant asshole make a fool out of me, it didn’t matter whether they posed a threat or not! But as I reeled my finger around the trigger, slow with my pull, she ducked down and swung her arm up against my wrist. Caught off guard, I dropped my pistol. Such a risky move, not to mention the fact that I thought I held a tight grip. I couldn’t believe my luck.

“Move in!” I commanded, and in stormed those five crewmates with their rifles in hand, all pointed at the one who had disarmed me.

“Oh. I see,” she looked around and took a step back before she sat back down at the booth.

“That’s right,” I flashed my smile once again, and this time, I was triumphant. “Did you think I’d just come here alone?”

She shrugged. “Very well. Take what you want. Not that there’s much here, right Sunny?”

“Actually, we’ve got a safe in the basement where we keep our ales,” the strong one with the ponytail replied. Ah, so her name is Sunny, I thought. Good. Now I have a name to put to her face.

“You weren’t supposed to tell them that!” Demetria scolded her, as if she thought those three could run one past me anyhow.

“It’s smart that she did, seeing as you’re surrounded. We would’ve found out if you were lying, anyway,” I explained before turning to my microphone and barked another order. “I’m gonna need at least five more of ya to get in here and sweep this place clean! And get that damn gauze, already!”

While my partners were locked onto those three nuisances, I limped on over to a stool at the counter and sat myself down. Now that I was more in control of the situation, I couldn’t help but kick back and relax. Sure, I still needed my wound tended to, but I’ve had worse stab wounds. I twirled around a metal salt shaker on the counter, then addressed my captive audience.

“Name’s Aurora B. Know what the ‘B’ stands for?” I mused. Hey, I was nothing if not courteous to my victims.

“I do, but since there’s a child present, I won’t say it,” that stupid sandwich eater with the unfair silky hair spoke up.

“It stands for Borealis!” I corrected, as the implication was clear as day.

“Right. That would’ve been my second or third guess.”

Ugh.

“What about you, huh? What should I call you?”

“I’m Joanna Mama, but you can call me Jo Mama.”

“You fancy yourself a comedian, huh?” I retorted.

“Nah. You’re just walking into joke after joke.”

“Where is Tigershark, anyway?” Sunny asked.

“Beats me. Hiding somewhere safe, I hope,” replied that...Jo…person? Look, I wasn’t going to call her Jo, I knew that wasn’t really her name.

Soon a few more of my underlings ran in, including Allison, I would’ve expected to stay on the train.

“What are you doing here?” I balked.

She was the one who held the gauze. While I didn’t object to being treated, it was just that it should have been someone else.

“How could you be so careless?” She chided me while she checked out my wound.

“I wasn’t careless, jeez. I just got caught off guard,” I argued.

“You were careless,” Ms. Not-Jo chimed in.

“Shush, you!” I called over before turning back to Allison. “You’re the one being careless! You’re supposed to stay on the front of the train so we can make a clean getaway!”

“Oh, come on! I’m the closest thing to a medical professional we got! If anyone’s gonna treat you, it’s gonna be me!” Allison sounded a little too elated considering how much pain I was in.

“I wish that was me and Remora,” whined Demetria, that same fool who stabbed me in the first place.

“Dunno who this ‘Remora’ person is, but they sound like a real tool,” I called over to my assailant.

“Hey, at least I’m functional,” that same one who hadn’t paid me much mind other than to demean me shot those words back my way. It didn’t take much to put two and two together, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey! Stay still!” Allison scolded me.

I can’t help it! I finally know the name of that bastard! I’m downright ecstatic!

“You guys find the safe yet?” I asked into the microphone.

“Not yet, boss, but we’re in the basement. Turns out there was a hidden hatch in the kitchen. Took us a while to spot it.”

“Keep looking. Grab anything else we can take with us while you’re at it.”

Sunny stood up, and one of my subordinates flinched, but instead of try anything stupid, Sunny just sat in that booth with her cards and examined them. “Weird, I didn’t get the tower.”

Demetria, too, stood up, but she didn’t go anywhere.

“If you try any more knife tricks, you’ll have more holes in you than a wheel of Swiss cheese,” I warned her.

“I bet I can take ‘em,” that cocky pipsqueak scoffed. It took a few words from Sunny to get her to back down:

“Hun, there’s a reason you don’t bring a knife to a gunfight. There’s too many of them, anyway.”

Demetria let out a melodramatic groan.

“Still, you shouldn’t just sit there and let this happen, Remora! I know you’re capable of beating all these guys!”

“Ray told me not to be violent in the diner,” was Remora’s reply.

“I’m pretty sure my husband meant just in general,” Sunny added. “Not in cases like these. Since when do you care what he says, anyway?”

“I don’t. It’s just that it seemed like a simple enough request at the time.”

Heh. As if someone like her could’ve taken my crew on, anyway. What a joke. Out of curiosity, I leaned my head over and saw Remora’s gaze focused on the window.

“Looks like you got the polar express out there,” she observed.

“You’re damn right, and we’re all out of cocoa.”

Allison’s fingers pressed down on the folds of the wound. I seethed, and told her, “careful or I’ll bite your ear off,” to which she said, “later.”

Once she had me wrapped up in gauze, she took her leave and ran off back to the train.

Now I just had to wait for my folks downstairs to come back up with bags of goodies. It didn’t take long, either, for a couple of them to emerge.

“You wouldn’t believe the stuff down there, boss!” One explained as he lugged around sacks of cash.

“Oh yeah?” I asked, and I wished I could lean my elbow against the counter, but I had a little knife problem at the moment.

“Yeah, these guys are loaded!”

“I’m not! Let me in on some of that cash!” Demetria interjected. The mouth on that runt, I swear.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get one of my vitals,” I growled.

“I would’ve if you let me,” she stuck her tongue out.

My crew took a few more trips down until they had exhausted the place. Once we got everything we could, we dispersed, and I followed behind my armed crew members. Before I went with them, however, I looked back to bid the ones I bled dry adieu.

“Well gals, it’s been fun, but now we gotta hit the road.”

By then, the bothersome trio stood next to each other toward the back of the diner and watched.

“Not to worry, guys, I’ll go after them,” Demetria tried to sound confident, which didn’t seem to impress the other two.

“Again: knife. Gun. Bad,” Sunny reminded. “I’ll go. I’ve got more experience being shot at than you.”

“By that standard, I may as well go. Besides, I kind of let them do as they pleased in the first place,” Remora shrugged.

“No, you gotta stay here while I go after them, that way I can impress you!” Demetria urged Remora.

I couldn’t stand any more bickering, especially when none of them stood a chance.

“Don’t any of you even try it. My guys won’t hesitate to mow any one of you down if you so much as come near us.”

The three of them blinked, then Sunny spoke up once again:

“Seriously though, where is Tigershark?”

I shook my head. Whatever meaningless drivel they were going to go on about next wasn’t any concern to me. Rather, I turned my attention back to the train and climbed aboard. Once I gave them the word, we hightailed it out of there, and I began to look forward to the celebration we would soon have.

Later, after being treated, I tossed the knife onto the floor in my quarters and grumbled. Russell was next to me, wondering why I wasn’t out celebrating.

“That heist was easy, eh boss?” He affirmed.

“Yeah. But something still bothers me about it.”

Oh, no. It was too easy, which I should’ve been overjoyed for, but instead, I kept turning to the fact that not a single one of them seemed intimidated by me. It really got my blood boiling.

“Say, did anyone stop by our good luck charm before we went in?” I found myself asking.

“No idea, boss.”

I leaned my head back and smiled. “Well, at least we still came out on top. So either way, luck must still be on our side.”

[fablesrose]

Of Kings and Shadows XV

Chapter XV

Description: Y/n, a girl who seems to have found her calling. Being a SHIELD agent is like a dream come true. With a friendship starting to form with the Avengers, she’s the Queen of the world! What could go wrong?

Pairings: Avengers x reader, Loki x reader (eventually)

Notes: On Wattpad –> Here

Warnings: pain

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

Day blah ba blah blah blah.

That's how it always seems to start, isn't it? The character opens with saying: it's been two-hundred and twenty-nine and a half days since I last saw the light of day... Which translates to seven months and sixteen and a half days.

That's not how I'm gonna start, because frankly, I can't remember how long I've been here. There are no windows in our cell, just white LED lights to tell us when to rise and when to rest. For all I know, our lunch could be at midnight, and our dinner at daybreak. Not that we have that many meals a day, it varies, at least that's our theory. As most of our living here, we really don't know.

Time kept ticking by. I wasn't sure at what pace. My internal clock used to be decent, but since the drug and no clock to reset, I have no idea.

I was getting restless. I couldn't move around, and I'm ashamed to say I was almost aching for the next fight. I was angry, trapped, and it was the only way I had some sense of control. It's ironic, since it may have felt that way, but I knew it was so far from the truth. And there was nothing I could do about it. A small piece of control, however imaginary, was a life-preserver, a beacon, something to cling onto, a way to hold my sanity.

It was a... relief when the guards came for me again. It was a way for me to release the tension of being in that small room. Let out the stir crazy.

My adrenaline was pumping the whole time. The fight was over too soon. While it released some of the pent up energy, I still felt like I could run for hours. It was much like my second fight. I had him unconscious on the floor. My hands were trembling slightly, from excess energy or from the guilt of doing this, I wasn't quite sure.

I jumped up and down which released some of the energy, enough where I could calm down and breathe. I sat back down in much the same position as before. I didn't know if I was in for another long wait, so I figured: might as well get comfortable. I waited for a while, not nearly as long as last time though.

The intercom clicked on and I snapped my head up, "Hmmm, whatever am I going to with you. You haven't earned the title of Queen yet..." He paused and I had to swallow, suddenly my rapid heart rate wasn't from the exercise.

"What do you want from me, you coward!?" I didn't know why I said it. His voice just grated on my nerves. Not because it was unappealing, no it was because he had a nice voice, but he's the reason I'm trapped in a cell, with no color but Jaz's eyes to look at besides our own skin tone. He's the reason I'm an experiment, why I can't go home. Why I'm going to be forgotten; that's if I haven't been already.

"Oh, name-calling are we? Good, because I need to know what to call you until you earn the title I want you to have. Let's see, let's see... Consort? No... that's almost hard to say, I need something that just rolls of the tongue. Princess? Maybe, but all I can picture is pink and purple ribbons." He laughed like he made a pitiful joke. "I could go really old fashioned and call you a concubine. What do you think about that?"

I bit my lip, but my thoughts still slipped out in a whisper, "I'm not your bitch." I mentally smacked myself for swearing out loud, nothing good ever came from it, especially now.

"No? Don't like the name? You are... what did you say? You are my bitch, but I would prefer not to call you that, there has to be some level of respect in this relationship. Oh! I know what to call you... Mistress. Yes, just rolls off the tongue," as if for emphasis he clucked his tongue then continued, "and to answer your question, Mistress, I want you to win this match."

My hands started to tremble again, thinking of what he's trying to insinuate.

"I trust you know what that means." The intercom clicked off again, leaving me in silence.

I knew exactly what he meant, and I hated it. Suddenly all I could hear was my heartbeat and heavy breathing. Signs of life. I looked at the man on the floor. Average build, shaggy brown hair, he lied on the ground, face down to where I couldn't see his face. Maybe that was best. I hadn't even been put through very much yet. How was I considering doing this?

You do what you have to to survive.

Do I even want to survive if this is what I have to live with?

What if that's his thoughts too?

I don't know that. How could I do this?

I looked at the little window in the door. I could see part of one of the guard's face. He was facing straight ahead, back to the wall. I noticed his eyes flicker to the window, at me, but then he looked back at the wall giving no expression to me. I swallowed and clenched my fists. I glared up at the security camera, I didn't even need my near nonexistent ability anymore to know he was watching me.

I pounded my fists against my forehead, hating myself. This wouldn't be my first, no far from it. This time it felt personal though. I approached the boy, that's what he looked like from behind, just a boy. I lifted his body so he was kneeling, his head slack. I put him into position, I could feel everything, the warmth of his body, the scratchiness of his jumpsuit next to mine. I took a deep breath and looked straight at the camera.

I made sure to make it quick. Quick as a snap. He didn't feel a thing.

I stood, letting his body fall to the ground, dead weight. The door opened and my two guards came in to escort me to my cell. I kept staring at the camera for as long as possible, I wasn't sure of the exact message I was sending, but I wanted him to know I was sending it. Two steps before I was out the door the intercom clicked on again, the three of us halting.

"Beautiful, my Mistress. You will make a wonderful Queen."

I didn't acknowledge his voice, the comment, none of it. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

I entered our cell, devoid of emotion. Devoid of everything really. I simply sat on the cot, staring at the floor. Jaz watched me but didn't say anything. I wasn't sure how many minutes had passed, maybe it was hours, I couldn't be sure.

My voice came out in a whisper, barely audible, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"What was that hon?"

I looked into her dark eyes, knowing she knew exactly what I said, "You knew exactly what is supposed to happen in those fights." To her credit, she didn't break eye contact, despite the burning gaze I set upon her. "And you didn't care to correct me."

She clenched her jaw, "You would have found out eventually. In this situation, the later you know about the ugly, the better."

I nearly snarled at her, but I didn't argue. I rolled over and didn't acknowledge her, trying to fall asleep. Eventually, the angry tension in my limbs dissipated, leaving me with exhaustion that gripped me both body and soul. Luckily I fell into a dreamless sleep.

I was rudely awakened the next morning with rough hands rolling me over, nearly off the bed. I blinked my eyes open and had enough sense to stand on my feet before they threw me to the ground.

"Hey, what's going on?" The guards usually weren't this rough with me or Jaz for that matter. I looked to her and found her in a state of frightened confusion. She didn't know what was up either.

They didn't answer me, only grabbed my arms and dragged me out the door. While I didn't know how this labyrinth of a building was laid out, I did know that I was being taken in the opposite direction as to the rooms where the prisoners would fight. That fact made me sweat a little bit more. I tried to keep up with them so I wasn't being dragged, mostly for my own comfort, but they had a lot longer legs and I kept tripping up and slipping in my socks.

Soon the hallways weren't just white walls. There were windows set in the cinderblocks and I did not like what I saw through them. They didn't go to the outside, no they looked into rooms with various medical instruments placed on tables next to every color imaginable liquids. In the center, there was either a  table or a chair. They were solid shiny metal, probably steel, and they had strong metal or leather restraints. I started to fight my guards, I didn't know where I would run to, but I would keep running until I found something, anything. Their grips were strong as they continued to drag me down the hallway past more and more experimental labs, some had blood spattered everywhere, some looked squeaky clean, even more, had someone strapped to one of those chairs or tables, screaming, unconscious, or dead.

"Nononono, please, don't do this. I don't want to! Please, sir, don't take me!" I continued to try and break free but they didn't budge. They didn't even look at me or show anything at all that said I was even in between them.

I tried to dig my feet into the ground to stop them, but my socks simply slid across the floor, hindering them little. I tugged at their arms and even tried to bite one of them at some point, but nothing stopped them from taking me to the last room at the end of the hallway. It had the largest window that showed the scientists preparing and waiting for me in the largest room. It was a table in the middle of the room, metal loops were on the sides in the positions to hold my limbs. This table also had a leather head strap and a metal loop to go around my neck.

Once they got me into the room, kicking and screaming they locked the door behind me. I deeper sense of dread spread through me. This was actually happening.

One of the doctors addressed my guard, "Did you not give it the sedative?"

He answered gruffly, "It was with the meal, but I think she went to sleep before it was delivered."

She sighed, "Fine, get her on the table."

They nearly threw me onto the metal and before I could struggle they managed to get the restraint around my neck. I flailed my other limbs, not wanting to get strapped down on this thing. The guards managed to hold my legs down long enough to strap them down. I kicked a couple of times after the loops were secured and winced when my feet rattled. I finally figured I wasn't getting out of three metal bangles, so I didn't try to punch anyone in the face... As hard anyway.

They eventually got me strapped down all the way and I could feel tears start to prick in my eyes. I looked around to see what exactly they were going to do to me. I looked at the wall where the window was, but all I could see was myself, strapped down to that table. I looked pale, and I could tell the meals they were giving us didn't help maintain weight. My hair was frizzy and out of place and if I had to use one word to describe me it would be a mess.

I saw the scientists moving around and I saw the short dude from before preparing a syringe with a beaker in his other hand. The beaker was filled with a dark, no, not just dark, black. It was pitch black. The consistency seemed to keep changing, as he swirled it seemed to change from syrup to shiny ink to a matte looking substance.

I looked back at the ceiling, not wanting to watch. A young-looking woman came to my side touching my arm slightly. I could tell she was trying to look emotionless, blank, but her eyes told me a different story. She held up a wooden spoon and swallowed.

I took a shaky breath and opened my mouth wide. She lodged it into my jaw and I clenched onto it.

I heard the portly man flick the syringe and I couldn't help look at him. It was filled with that liquid from before and I watched long enough for him to squeeze a singular drop out to make sure there was no air in it. I quickly looked at the ceiling, not wanting to watch any longer.

I felt someone hold my wrist down so the inside of my arm faced out. A tourniquet was wrapped around my upper arm so they had a better shot at my vein. My body was tense, nervous, I tried to breathe deeply to calm down but nothing was working.

I heard him chuckle next to me, "I would say relax, it will hurt less, but this will hurt either way."

I barely had time to register and brace myself when he stuck the syringe in my arm. I winced slightly, but that pain couldn't cast a shadow on the pure agony that came when he started to push the concoction into my bloodstream.

It felt like acid, burning every cell in my body to be as black as itself. I could feel exactly where it went, rushing down to my fingertips, causing them to spasm as if it would make the pain go away. I was so focused on the pain that I didn't notice when the demon doctors stepped away from me to watch.

Tears were rolling down my face as I screamed with no restraint. I could feel the wooden spoon cracking in my jaws.  I arched my back above the table once the ink approached my heart. I was jerking and rattling everything as the substance pulsed through my body as if a different kind of pain could distract me, make it better. I understood why they had the leather head strap because if it wasn't there, I'm sure I would have tried to bash my brains out in pure reflex.

I felt it travel and spread from my heart all the way to my toes. It seemed to creep up my neck agonizingly slow despite my rapidly beating heart. Once it reached my head it felt like I had eaten a spoonful of wasabi while my head rested on a concert speaker playing at full volume. If my hands were free they might have scratched away everything, my eyes, ears, scalp, they might have ripped my head off just to make the pain stop.

The next sensation was nearly indescribable. I could feel sweat running across my skin, but I could also feel it running underneath it. I could feel each pump of my blood not just in my ears and fingertips, but also in every vein and artery. It was like it was cooling it from the inside, which was still painful, but not as much as the burning. My screaming reduced to groans, still wiggling on the table. I was panting, I focused on breathing heavily as if it would help with the pain.

Eventually, everything started to tingle like it was falling asleep. In the wake of the pins and needles, an overwhelming numbness started to take hold. My breathing became shallow, but regular, not labored or strained. I stopped moving on the table, becoming almost deathly still. My gaze remained on the ceiling as I lost all feeling in my body. I vaguely remember hearing the wooden spoon fall to the floor.

Everything seemed stiff like I couldn't move of my own free will. I didn't even have the will to blink my eyes, so I watched my vision slowly collapse inward from the darkness, as I felt silent tears fall one by one down my face.

Tag List: 😞

[blacklacefanfics]

Raison D’Etre

Summary: It’s New Year’s Eve 2019- Crowley’s reflecting, drinks are flowing, and it’s the roaring 20s.

A/N: My GOmens Holiday swap gift for @idanit !! I wanted to incorporate the bookshop fluff, ineffable wives, some nice dancing, and the current holidays into this fic. It’s also been so long since I’ve sat down and wrote a fic this long, so I’m hoping that you like it!

~

Crowley pulled up outside of the bookshop, her Bentley rattling to a slow stop. Driving through SoHo on the night of New Year’s Eve wasn’t anyone’s idea of a good time, but she had promised to meet Aziraphale up before midnight and she wasn’t one to be late- when meeting her angel, anyways.

People bustled past on the sidewalk, already loud and buzzing an hour before midnight. It wasn’t a scene that Crowley was unfamiliar with, but the crowds every year around this time could be massively overwhelming even for a demon.

She grabbed the brown bag and glasses from her car and sauntered towards the bookshop, miracling the handle unlocked and knocking her hip against the door to swing it open. The bell above jingled happily.

“Angel-”

“A moment please!” Aziraphale called from the back room. A rustle of books and papers a moment later, and she came to the front with a smile on her face. “Crowley! You said you would be a while.”

“Figured I’d be early tonight, y’know? And I come bearing gifts.” Crowley smiled and held up the glasses and bag.

“Lovely!” Aziraphale beamed, glancing downward. “Crowley, what on Earth are you wearing?”

“You don’t like it?” Crowley glanced down at herself- a black button down, silver tie, black pants and suspenders. She swept her red hair over her shoulder. “I thought it was rather fitting for the ‘Roaring 20’s’ and all that.”

“Just not your usual fashion- bit outdated.”

Crowley snorted a laugh.

“Really? Says the one who can’t lose the tartan.” Crowley teased, pulling Aziraphale towards her by the waist, arms wrapped around her.

Aziraphale blushed, smacking at her hand. “You shush! Tartan is stylish. Everyone knows that.”

“Your outfits are a few decades old for even the 1920’s, angel, get used to it.” Crowley laughed, letting her pull away. “Do you want my gift or not?”

“Of course. What did you bring?”

“Champagne. For the new year.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale smiled, taking the wine. Crowley set the glasses on the table. “1995 De Venoge Cuvee Louis XV Brut. Very fancy.”

“Only the best.” Crowley winked, taking the bottle and popping it and pouring a glass. “Figured it was an important year, might as well do it right.”

“I thought we were going down to central London this year?” Aziraphale questioned, taking a glass. “Perhaps it’s not a good idea to drink it now if you’re driving us down there.”

“Well,” Crowley said, pouring herself a tall glass and taking a sip. “I figured that we could stay here. Just this time. Maybe go out next year.” She sidled up against Aziraphale again and wrapped her arm around her waist.

“Oh?” Aziraphale smiled up at her. “Just us, then?”

“Mm.” Crowley pulled herself flush against Aziraphale. Aziraphale blushed.

“You’re awfully touchy tonight, Crowley.” She smiled shyly, sipping her glass.

“It is a special occasion, after all.”

“What makes this one more important than the others? We’ve never really celebrated before, have we?” Aziraphale tilted her head.

“Just important, s’all.”

Aziraphale looked up at her. She reached up with her hand and gently caressed Crowley’s face.

“I’m very happy to spend this time with you, my dear.” She said, gently taking off Crowley’s glasses. “We’ve had quite a run of it the past few months. I hope you can forgive me wanting to see you properly.”

Crowley hitched a breath and fluttered her eyes as the glasses were removed. Her gold eyes flickered over Aziraphale’s face and she noticed finally that the bookshop was actually quite dark, save for a few soft lamps and a fireplace in the corner. Had that always been there?

“I don’t mind.” She swallowed, suddenly stepping back. “I, um…” Her face reddened suddenly and she laughed nervously. “I may have had a couple of drinks before coming over.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale scolded. “You drove!”

“I held it off until now, angel. Don’t worry.” Crowley scoffed, waving off her admonishments. The room wobbled just under her feet, and she thought perhaps chugging a bottle of cheap whiskey was a bad idea.

“Why would you do that and still bring something to drink?” Aziraphale prattled on nonetheless, leading Crowley to the couch and sitting her down.

“Because it’s a party tonight, angel! The one night all the humans are out getting drunk and celebrating surviving another year, shouldn’t I get to?”

Aziraphale gave her a reproved look and rolled her eyes.

“You’re impossible. I hope you know that.”

“It’s one of my many charms.” Crowley smirked up at her, itching to grab her glasses off the table and slide them back on. It was hard to resist, even when up against Aziraphale’s wishes.

Aziraphale huffed.

“Well, if we’re going to be in drinking all night, I’m going to put on some music.” She sauntered over to her dusty old phonograph- one Crowley was very fond of making fun of- and flipped through her collection of vinyl. Much of it was Crowley’s choice of music, anyways, but this record she picked up especially for tonight. She played it on the player and adjusted the needle. A quick trumpet solo flowed out, followed by instrumentals.

“I don’t recall getting you this album.” Crowley teased, moving to the side for Aziraphale to sit on the couch as well. She sat in the middle, effectively closing Crowley up against the corner of the couch.

“You didn’t. I picked it for this evening. I know it’s not your usual style.”

Crowley listened for a moment and finished off her champagne.

“Louis Armstrong. How appropriate for the evening.”

“Well, humans only were able to record music for the past century or so. I figured it’d be nice to get a little nostalgic.”

Crowley looked over at her and smiled, laughing a bit.

“A hundred years is nothing, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled back.

“Perhaps. But New Year’s is meant to be a time of reflection. What we’ve accomplished, what we haven’t.”

She went quiet and looked away. Crowley felt her chest ache in a most familiar way.

It had been quite the year- quite the decade. Years and days usually pass without any thought to them, considering they’ve seen multiple millennia. However this decade- and this year- were the culmination of everything they experienced. Adam’s birth only eleven years ago. Crowley’s stint as a nanny to raise the Destroyer of Worlds and Aziraphale’s governess position to try to influence him to be “good.” Yes, it was the wrong child, but that was not the point. The point was that this year the humans wouldn’t see the new year. No new decade, no new century. Not after all of this.

But because of one mistake (the jury is still out on where it all went wrong), they had managed to.. do what, exactly? Yes, the world was saved and they didn’t technically get directly involved. It was still their heads on the chopping block at the end of the day- and they still had to stay safe, lest their trickery gets discovered.

The record skipped as it switched to a new instrumental track, this one slower than the previous. Crowley stared at Aziraphale’s profile, the lamplight encompassing her like a halo. Humanity had always been about moving forward, progressing. That had been what they wanted to protect the moment they faced their respective ex-bosses at the airbase that day. Heaven and Hell knew nothing of that. Always stagnant, stuck in the same spat from before time was even created.

Crowley wanted to move forward. Always wanted it. Wanted it back in Eden, as she first approached the Angel of the Eastern Gate, and wanted it half a century ago, as Aziraphale handed her the thermos of Holy Water. Aziraphale was always slow-going. Wary. Scared of making the wrong move, and scared of being tempted from her duties.

What duties remained now? Nothing. They took their orders and threw them out the window in the midst of the apocalypse. Aziraphale was on their side, as was Crowley. Maybe she was ready to move, too.

“It’s also about progress.” Crowley tilted an eyebrow at her point. Her glass magically refilled. “What to look forward to now that they’ve survived it all. Isn’t that the point?”

Aziraphale looked her in the eye, her blue eyes striking compared to the warm yellow light.

“Yes. They always move forward, even at the end of the world.” Aziraphale stared down at her glass with a small smile. “I suppose that’s why we fell in love, right?” Aziraphale fluttered a look at Crowley. “With the world, I mean.”

The record skipped again right in time with Crowley’s heart. The soft trumpet poured out from seeming all directions, and Hanshaw’s voice flowing around them.

I'm Flying high,

but I've got a feeling I'm falling…

Aziraphale and Crowley locked eyes.

Falling for nobody else but you…

God, Crowley wanted to move forward.

Crowley knocked back her full glass of champagne and stood quickly, startling Aziraphale.

“What are you-“

“D’you want to dance?” Crowley sputtered out quickly.

Aziraphale lifted her eyebrows in surprise before settling into a please smile. She set her glass down and stood, approaching Crowley. It suddenly occurred to her that she had never properly danced before.

“Let me show you.” Aziraphale reassured and seemingly reading her mind, taking her hand and leading to a space devoid of books. She linked hands with Crowley, swinging them back and forth. “I may have learned a thing or two back then.”

Crowley watched her movements closely and mirrored them, swaying to the rhythm and back again. Aziraphale let go with one hand and twirled inwards to Crowley’s arms. Her tartan dressed swirled around her knees and her blonde curls bounced along with her dancing.

“It’s called swing dancing.” She twirled back out and brought herself back in, holding her arm around Crowley this time and waltzing in time to the music. “I remember that they had only this back then. Music, dancing, and each other. Before their own world betrayed them.”

They fell silent again and swayed to the song, both deep in thought. The record skipped again- this time back to Armstrong.

When you're smilin’ Keep on smilin’… The whole world smiles with you…

Something heavy fell to the pit of Crowley’s stomach and she stilled. Aziraphale pulled back to look at her, moving her hand up and stroking Crowley’s face gently.

“Everything alright?”

Crowley nodded and suddenly felt choked up.

“Oh, Crowley.”

“No, it’sss fine.” Crowley insisted, wiping at her eyes. “I just hate slow songs.”

Aziraphale gave her an incredulous look, but still held her close. She laced her hand with Crowley’s and leaned their foreheads together.

“Crowley, I should say that I don’t have regrets about the past year.”

Crowley breathed out.

“You don’t?”

“No, I don’t.” Aziraphale pulled back and looked at her. “I’m glad we stopped the Apocalypse. I’m glad we’re on the same side. I’m glad we helped save the world.”

“More or less.”

Aziraphale laughed. “More or less.”

Crowley smiled.

“And, for what it’s worth,” Aziraphale continued, “I’m glad this New Year’s is important. If anything, it’s proven that we have much to live for. Our raison d’etre. Don’t you think?”

Crowley nodded slowly. Noise suddenly filtered into the bookshop over the music, quickly being realized as the sound of many drunk people out in the streets.

“I believe they’re counting down.”

“Do you want to go out and join them?” Aziraphale asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Not really.” Crowley couldn’t take her eyes off Aziraphale’s- and why would she? Her raison d’etre was right in front of her. She received a smile in return and the bookshop filled with flickering lights. Multiple colors bounced off Aziraphale’s pinned hair and cheering drunks stumbled past the outer windows.

Crowley leaned in slowly, then all at once as she connected her lips with Aziraphale’s. Aziraphale clasped Crowley’s face in her hands and kissed back fervently as they pressed into each other. Fireworks echoed across London just as butterflies exploded in Crowley’s belly.

Aziraphale pulled back after a moment and breathed, a smile breaking across her face.

“I’ve waited hundreds of years to do that.” She beamed.

“I waited thousands.” Crowley smiled, diving back in to kiss again at her angel’s surprised face. She kissed alongside her mouth and up her cheek. Aziraphale laughed.

“You could’ve said something, you naughty serpent!”

“But the anticipation was so sweet, wasn’t it?” Crowley teased. She dropped her hand down to tangle with Aziraphale’s again.

“Only because I am free to love you as I always have.” She responded, rubbing her thumb across Crowley’s reddening cheek. Crowley wanted to damn the charm that made her weak at the knees, but found she really couldn’t. Or even wanted to, really.

“Perhaps we should make a toast?” Aziraphale prompted. She poured the glasses once again and handed one to Crowley. “To the New Year.”

“To saving the humans.”

“To new beginnings.”

Crowley raised her glass at Aziraphale. “To the world.”

Aziraphale followed in kind, clinking her glass against Crowley’s.

“To us, and what the future may bring us.”

Crowley met her eyes and Aziraphale smiled. A new warmth flowed through her and she smiled back.

“To us.”

~

Songs mentioned:

West End Blues Louis Armstrong

I’ve Got a Feeling I’m Falling Annette Hanshaw

When You Smile (The Whole World Smiles With You) Louis Armstrong

[foxyotomelady]

It wasn’t supposed to be, Chapter V (JuminxOC/Reader)

Author’s notes:

Wow, this chapter came out quite long :o

The slow burn continues~

Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | Chapter V (You are here) | Chapter VI | Chapter VII |  Chapter VIII | Chapter IX | Chapter X | Chapter XI | Chapter XII | Chapter XIII | Chapter XIV | Chapter XV | Chapter XVI |

Buy Me A Ko-Fi Have a nice reading!

It's been several days since Riyu joined RFA. During this time the girl seemed to cheer up somehow, she was not so tense, less often he saw her motionless in deep thought. Something has changed. Like every morning, they ate breakfast together, and the girl pampered Elizabeth the 3rd, giving her scraps of her food. "You seem less stressed lately," Jumin said. Riyu blinked, "And I seemed stressed before?" "Yes." "Maybe it's because I finally have something to do." "Ah, yes, how are you dealing with inviting guests?" "Very efficiently, I've already convinced a few. Others help me a lot, they send me suggestions."

"I see," Jumin took a sip of coffee and tried to focus his eyes on the magazine. Recently, he found himself staring at the girl too often and he trying to fight it. "Besides, everyone is nice to me. And they are funny." "Funny? Yes, I understand why you can see them as funny." "But you rarely log in. Is this my fault?" Jumin raised an eyebrow, refusing to show any emotion, "Why do you think so?" "Because I suspect it must be embarrassing for you. But no one is making fun of our situation since I asked for it." "Believe me, jokes will start as soon as I get back there." Riyu rested her cheek on her hand, with an elbow on the table, with a sigh, "What a pity. Have you even seen my profile?" "I didn't pay attention. Is it important for some reason?" "Do you remember when I told you I once had a dog?" The girl put down her coffee cup, got up from her place, walked along the table and stopped next to him, "I set his photo on the background." Jumin's heart started beating quickly when Riyu leaned close to him, wanting to show him the screen of her phone. He heard her quiet breathing, felt the warmth of her body, the smell of her shampoo fell into his nose. "I thought you might want to see him. I know you love animals like me." "I-I see," He whispered, adjusted his tie, and examined the photo. It was a small dog, a mongrel, with a short mouth, clapped ears and protruding teeth. "What was his name?" "Hige." "That's a weird name." "Not at all!" Riyu was outraged and lightly hit him on the shoulder with an open hand. This gesture completely dazed him. "Have you ever watched Wolf's Rain anime?" "I haven't watched any anime. It's a waste of time." "What? You've got to be kidding me! I have to show you a few, then you'll change your mind. Hige is one of the characters from this anime." "Your favorite, I guess. Oh... your avatar." "Ah, yes. I just wanted to show everyone how lucky I'm to hug this beautiful cat." The girl returned to her place and tapped something on the phone. For some reason, he became interested and worried about who she could write with. "Maybe I'll actually start logging in more often," He wondered aloud. "It would be nice to talk to you there sometimes," Riyu smiled charmingly. Jumin looked away, massaged his temple, "Tell me, do you really care to get along or is it just your game?" The girl's face immediately took on a sharper expression. Her sweet smile disappeared, "Listen, someday, you want it or not, we'll be family in some way. So yes, I care about getting along." "Family..." Jumin frowned. "Are you really ready to marry my father?" The girl apparently swallowed, "Yes." "Why? Do you really want to torment yourself for money?" "I don't care about his money. And no, I don't torment myself." "Do you know that you are really bad at pretending and lying?" "So you should see when I tell the truth. So you should see that I really don't care about money." Yes, that was the strangest thing... He was really starting to believe that money wasn't her goal at all. But he had no idea what could it be. "If you don't do it for money, why?" She did not answer him, so he continued, "Just don't say you actually have any feelings for my father. You despise him. You even loathe talking with him." "That's not true," The girl shook her head. "I like to talk to him." "So why has my father recently complained to me that you rarely pick up calls from him?" "I just rarely have my phone with me." "From what I understood, you like to write on the messenger with others. So you must have your phone in your hand quite often." The girl narrowed her eyes, she was angry, "What is this? An interrogation?" He looked up at her and had to not control his cold eyes, because Riyu backed away, shuddered? Then her phone rang. They both looked at the screen. What timing! His father just called. Riyu stiffened. "Won't you answer?" Jumin asked. The girl looked at him furiously, then grabbed the phone, and when he heard this artificially sweet voice, he immediately regretted that he provoked her to pick up. "Good morning, Mr. Han! Ah, I'm just eating breakfast with your son. How are your business matters?" Jumin barely swallowed bites of food and sips of coffee when he heard her babbling to his father. He felt sick, his throat tightened. Their conversation on the phone lasted about fifteen minutes, so quite a long time for them. As if the girl wanted to prove something to him.

When she finally hung up the phone, she didn't look at him. In silence, she returned to eating her leftover breakfast. Jumin felt uncomfortable... He felt... guilty.

"I'm sorry," He sighed. "You don't have to do this anymore. Don't force yourself to talk to him."

"I don't force myself," She answered gruffly.

"Why can't you be honest with me?"

"I'm honest," Another lie. "I want to marry your father. I may seem uncomfortable with him, but it's because we still have to get used to each other. In time, I will feel at ease with him."

Jumin put down his coffee, put the magazine away, and got up from the table. Riyu eyes followed him, "Won't you finish your breakfast?" "I've lost my appetite." Jumin headed for the exit, but before he left he heard a quiet 'Have a nice day at work' behind him.

[Jumin Han has entered the chat room]  Riyu: Seven, the weird hacker you suggested as a guest  Riyu: want my IP -_-  Riyu: I don't think it wise to give it to him 707: Give him my IP  707: I will send it to u thro message  707: if he tries to break into my phone 707: I'll just 707: destroy him 707: 

Riyu: hello, Jumin.  Jumin Han: yes, hello.  707: JuJu!  707: You finally appeared! 707: I missed you! 707: 

Jumin Han: The feeling is not mutual  707: so sharp T-T  Riyu: hehe, don't be sad Seven, he's kidding  Jumin Han: I'm not 707: lolololol Riyu  707: you're acting like a mom  707: oops! it wasn't right  707: since soon you will actually be Jumin's mother 707: lololololol  Jumin Han: 

Jumin Han: you see, Riyu?  Jumin Han: I told you what would start as soon as I came back here Riyu: Seven -_- 707: sorry T-T 707: I couldn't help myself 707: it was stronger than me! 707: this huge urge to make a joke T-T 707: it's just painfull T-T Riyu: you know what else would be painful? Riyu: me smacking you straight in the face 707: Oooh~ 707: I get excited just now~ 707: 

Riyu: sigh... -_-' Jumin Han: 

707: but Riyu I want to ask you something  Riyu: don't 707: you can 707: choose between two rich guys 707: and you decided to 707: go after Mr. Chairman? 707: do you have a thing for older guys? lolololol Riyu: no, I don't and it isn't funny, Seven  707: but when I think about it 707: Jumin is also older than you 707: so why Mr. Chairman? Riyu: seriously Seven, it's not funny Jumin Han: yes, stop this Luciel Jumin Han: don't you see she's uncomfortable? 707: oh, you get so protective over her again lololol 707: but what about u JuJu? 707: aren't u jealous that she prefers your father over you? lol [Riyu has left the chat room] Jumin Han:... 707: oh.... 707: it was too much? 707: I'm so sorry T-T 707: I didn't mean to offend you, Riyu T-T Jumin Han: Seven, Jumin Han: you're supposed to be a genius Jumin Han: so how is it you don't know how to use your brain? [Jumin Han has left the chat room] Jumin regretted that he decided to log in to the chat room. He just wanted to talk to Riyu and from all of people, she was accompanied by Seven. He thought for a long moment, tapping his fingers on the desk surface, and finally dialed the girl's number.  "Yes?" Her voice was washed of emotion when she answered.  Jumin didn't know what to say, "Is everything... Are you all right?"  "Yes."  She was definitely not all right. And Jumin felt a great need to change it somehow, "You said in the morning that you would like to show me some animes."  "Yes, what about this?"  "I think I would like to see some. Maybe at the evening? I'll try to left from work earlier today."

Jaehee was not happy that he had left work earlier because he had left her extra paperwork, but for some reason he wanted to fulfill the promise he made to Riyu. When he returned to the building and entered the apartment, he felt a strange smell. Did Riyu order dinner for them? But she wasn't in the kitchen and the food wasn't waiting for him on the table.  "Riyu?"  "I'm here," Her voice came from the living room.  So he headed there and before his eyes, an unusual view appeared. Riyu had already prepared several DVDs, probably with those animes that she wanted to show him. A blanket lay on the floor in front of the sofa. A box of pizza next to it - the strange smell coming from it. "I'm ready for our movie night," She said with a smile and sat back comfortably on the blanket, "If you need to refresh yourself after work, I'll give you only a moment. Be brief while the pizza is still warm."  Jumin was completely stunned, "Shouldn't we have dinner first?"  "This is our dinner!"  "Pizza? It's rather unhealthy." Riyu rolled her eyes, "Once in a while you can let yourself eat junk food. Come on, hurry up, or I'll start without you." So he went to refresh himself quickly and allowed himself to take off his jacket and stay in his shirt, he also took off his tie. When he returned to the living room, Riyu was already turning on the movie, "Hurry up, it's starting!"  A little hesitantly he sat down next to her, on a blanket and leaned his back on the sofa behind him, "Why are we sitting on the blanket?"  "It's better this way."  Jumin raised an eyebrow, "Is it? It's not good for your spine."  "Seriously, Jumin?"  "You also forgot to prepare plates and cutlery." "We don't need them for pizza!"  "So how are we supposed to eat?"  "Using our hands?" The girl reached for a piece of pizza into the box, dipped its tip in the sauce, then tilted her head back and directed the piece of pizza to her mouth. She bit off a fragment and began to chew it.  "It doesn't look very elegant," He stated at this view but couldn't help smiling. In fact, it didn't look elegant. It looked cute. The girl handed him a piece of pizza, "Eat, watch and relax. Apparently, you need it more than I do."  "Do you think that I don't take time to relax? That's not true, I think that relaxation is a very important part of life and work. When I need to relax, I go to a grape farm."  "It must be a very pleasant way to relax, but I promise you that the ways of the commoners also have their charm." So for the next hour, they watched anime, ate pizza and sat on a blanket. For Jumin, it was a completely new and unexpectedly pleasant experience. He actually felt relaxed. He stretched one leg forward, the other bent at the knee and put his elbow on it. The girl was sitting cross-legged next to him. They watched intently, sometimes exchanging comments. When they watched a few episodes and took a short break before the next, Jumin felt the need to say something. "I don't understand why this Hige is your favorite character. He is clumsy, irresponsible and only thinks about food and women."  Riyu chuckled and then shrugged, "When I was younger I thought he was cute." "Do you still think so?"  "Hmm. I still appreciate him because when he fell in love, he remained loyal to one woman for the rest of his life."  "If you really want to marry my father, you must be ready that he is not like that. He is not loyal. He has problems remaining faithful." The girl looked away, "You don't have a good opinion about your father." "On the contrary. I value him very much. But I know how he is when it comes to women."  Suddenly, Riyu's phone rang. The girl twitched, suddenly turned pale, but reached for her cell phone.  "You don't have to pick up if-"  "It's Seven. Ha! Let's see what he has to say." Riyu picked up a call in hands-free mode. "Riyu~ You picked up! I'm so happy~!" "What do you want, Seven? I'm busy watching anime and eating pizza."  "Whaaa? Do you value pizza and anime more than me?"  "It depends how sorry you are for your jokes."  "I'm terribly sorry, I am begging you on my knees for forgiveness!"  "I think you should also apologize to Jumin. That matter concerns him as much as me."  "I will certainly apologize to him!"  "You can do it now. He's here with me and you're on a speaker." Jumin barely suppressed a laugh. This girl... She was really something.  "Whaaa? Jumin is there with you watching anime and eating pizza? I can't believe it! You have to take a picture!"  "Where is your apology, Seven?"  "Huh?"  "I'm counting to five. If you don't apologize at that time, I'll hang up and never forgive you. Five... Four..." "Wait!"  "Three... Two..."  "JuJu, I'm so sorry! I'm on my knees now! I swear!"  Riyu burst out laughing and this time he couldn't stand it either. Agitated by her good mood, he laughed softly.  "Did Jumin Han just laugh ?! What a pity I'm not recording this because nobody will believe me!"  "Jumin," Riyu turned to him. "Do you think we can accept such an apology?"  "I think so, exceptionally."  "You're in luck today, Seven. Bye ~!" "I think he got his lesson, but since it's Seven, I doubt he'll ever stop fooling around," Jumin concluded.  Riyu sighed, "I know."  Suddenly something white flashed past them. The girl looked at the pizza box, "Oh no!" Then she jumped to her feet and ran somewhere, "Elizabeth, you can't eat that!"  Jumin got up quickly and hurried after the girl, "Did she steal a piece of pizza?"  Riyu just squatted and picked up a piece of pizza from the floor. She breathed a sigh of relief, "She must have dropped it along the way."  "She hid under the furniture. Your scream must have scared her."  "Most importantly, she didn't eat that." Suddenly Elizabeth ran out from under the furniture and fell straight into Riyu's legs. The girl stepped back so as not to stop on the cat, as a result of which she tripped over its small figure or maybe over her own legs.  Jumin reacted faster than he could think about it. He reached out one arm and the girl fell on it with her back. His fingers reflexively pressed around her waist. Riyu looked up at his face, slightly dazed. Her skin was soft, her eyes deep, her lips slightly parted. Jumin felt he was getting hot, and a strange thought flashed through his head... but he quickly chased it away.  He helped the girl stand straight on the floor and took his hand away. "Um... Thank you," She said, apparently embarrassed. He wasn't looking at her, "No problem. It wouldn't be good if you'd break your arm or something like that." "Yes, your father would not be pleased." "I wouldn't be pleased either." The girl was silent for a moment, then snorted softly, "Is this your way of saying that you care about me?" "I never said I don't care about you," He slowly turned to face her again and it was a big mistake. Now he could see that she was blushing and it make his heart race once more. "Will we go back to watching..?" Riyu suggested shyly.  Jumin nodded stiffly. He didn't even think about checking if Elizabeth the 3rd had been hurt. They just came back in front of the TV, sat down on the blanket and Riyu turned on another episode. At first it was awkward between them, but eventually, they both relaxed again. They watched anime till late at night. The ending was surprisingly brutal and sad.  Jumin noticed Riyu's lips tightening and her eyes sparkling. Was she stopping herself from crying?  "Are you all right?" He asked.  She sniffed loudly and rubbed her eyes, "Yes, yes. I just feel sad..."  Jumin raised his eyebrows, "Because of the movie?"  She nodded.  Cute. Incredibly cute.  "You shouldn't worry about it. It didn't really happen."  "I know, I know... But it's stronger than me." Jumin looked at his watch and only then realized how late it really was, "Ah, I should go to sleep now."  "I hope you won't be late for work tomorrow because of our movie night."  "Today, actually. It's past midnight. But don't worry about it. That was a surprisingly nice experience. I think I would like to repeat that sometime."  "All right, but next time you choose a movie."  Jumin nodded and rose from the blanket. The girl followed in his footsteps and started cleaning up, but he stopped her immediately, "Leave it. The Maid will take care of it."  "Ah, yes," She replied and straightened up. "I'm still not used to it."  They stood silently facing each other for a moment. Finally, Jumin broke the silence, "I have to admit I was wrong about you."  "What?"  "Someone like you - loving animals and crying at movies - cannot be a crafty gold-digger. Even if you can be quite bold and fierce at times as well."  "Uh... thank you?"  "Riyu... If you don't care about my father's money... Why are you doing this? You can be honest with me."  The girl's face narrowed instantly. She looked at her feet, "I'm honest. I just want to be with him." After these words, mumbled faintly, she moved towards the guest room. As she was passing him, he grabbed her wrist and stopped her. Why? Why did he do that?  "J-Jumin?" Her voice shook slightly.  "I'm sorry," Jumin released her hand or rather force himself to release her. "You should go to sleep now as well. Goodnight."

[whumpwriterforlife]

Your writing is always so good, especially the action scenes! Can I request rope burns with Prompto? Thanks so much!

Thank you so much 🧡 Here you go, rope burns with Prompto!

Rope Burns

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Prompto Argentum, Nyx Ulric

Whumpee: Prompto Argentum

Word Count: 2328

Warnings: Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Drugging (brief, one time), Minor Gun Violence

Can be read on AO3 here

---

Prompto whined when his alarm went off. He snuck one hand out of the warmth of his bed and blindly smacked the alarm clock to put a stop to the shrill ringing.

It had been a mistake to stay up so late on a school night.

Prompto rolled out of bed, dropping to his knees on the cool floor with an exhausted groan. The duvet fell with him, and he just barely resisted the urge to curl up in it and drift off again. Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, Prompto tapped his way to his morning playlist and blasted rock on full volume. That kept him awake until he managed to drag himself into a cold shower.

Thirty minutes later he was standing at the door, dressed in his school uniform with a backpack slung over his shoulder. He felt much more alert but he knew for a fact that he would be nodding off as soon as he got into Mrs. Treven’s class. Noctis had once said that even council meetings were more entertaining than her class. Prompto was inclined to believe him. At least it was Friday. He would only need to make it through the next eight hours and then he would be free for the weekend.

He stepped out of the door, making sure to lock it behind him as he left for school. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunched against the cold. Snow crackled beneath his shoes, almost making him slip a few times. Sneakers didn’t make good winter shoes but they were the best he had. He had barely enough money for groceries so better shoes were out of question. Fortunately the subway station wasn’t that far from his place so he would only have to slip his way through a few blocks.

Except he never even made it half-way there.

There was a screech of tires. Prompto turned on his heels, breath catching in his throat. A dark SUV came to a halt next to him, and two men piled out. They were large, a matching dark expression on their faces as they rushed at him.

Prompto yelped, his backpack dropping to the ground as he turned to run. He made it two steps before he was caught by his coat and tugged back. A startled shout escaped Prompto. Massive arms wrapped around him in a bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides as he was lifted off his feet.

“Help!” Prompto shouted, a panicked tint to his voice as he struggled. He kicked as hard as he could, squirmed and screamed but the grip on him didn’t give. “Help! Let me go!”

Suddenly he was shoved into the SUV, eliciting a yelp from him as he fell. There were instantly hands on him again. He was manhandled back, hands gripping his wrists and pinning them to his front as he was pulled across the back seat and against a broad chest. He continued to struggle, breaths coming fast and uneven as he screamed and pleaded to be let go.

“Settle down!” a voice snarled, close enough that Prompto felt the hot breath of the kidnapper on his ear. The grip on his wrists tightened to the point where it hurt and he whimpered but didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He was panicking, too far gone to listen. He just knew he needed to get out, needed to escape. “Shit, Rev, the syringe!”

A hand clamped over his mouth, silencing his screams to little more than muffled noises. Tears sprang into his eyes. He went still as the car lurched forward. He shuddered, a low whine bubbling up his throat. Someone laughed.

“Keep him still.”

A hand dug into his hair a moment later and wrenched his head back. His cry came out muffled. He caught a glimpse of a syringe from the corner of his eyes and tensed. The man holding the syringe gave him a smirk.

“Don’t worry, kid, this will just put you asleep for a few hours.”

Another wave of panic washed over Prompto but there was nothing he could do, restrained as he was, when the man leaned closer and plunged the syringe into his bare neck. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sob. His head lolled to the side as his hair was released. The men chatted but the words bled into an incoherent mush in Prompto’s ears as the drug started to take effect. A moment or two later his eyes slid shut.

---

Prompto groaned, blinking blearily as he returned to consciousness. His head felt heavy, almost stuffy. It took him a moment to realize he was staring down at his own lap. His school uniform looked disheveled and he was almost certain Mrs. Treven would huff and give him that disapproving look before sending him to the bathroom to tidy up. She always wanted them to look their best and act all mature. It was stupid if you asked Prompto. They were a bunch of 16-year-olds, not adults.

The sound of a door creaking open sent a spike of panic through him. His head snapped up, colliding with something hard. A pained noise burst from his lips and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Finally awake, are we?” an amused voice asked, “That’s good. I was beginning to worry you’d sleep through the whole day and miss half of the fun!”

An overwhelming sense of fear and panic blossomed in his chest, taking Prompto’s breath away. He remembered now. He forced his eyes open and tried to move his arms and legs, only to find them tightly restrained to the chair. A whimper escaped his lips.

The man who had spoken huffed. He walked closer, perfectly relaxed as if there was nothing wrong with the situation.

“I would have never guessed the Crown Prince’s little friend would turn out to be a Nif.”

Prompto tried not to wince at the dig but the man’s ugly laugh told him he didn’t quite succeed. He shook his head, weakly tugging at the coarse rope that bound his hands behind the chair. “Let me- please let me go!”

“Sorry, kid, can’t do that.” The man shrugged and tilted Prompto’s head back with one finger under his chin.

“But I don’t- I don’t know anything! I’m no one important!”

The man shushed him. His thumb brushed over Prompto’s cheekbone, causing him to flinch away from the hand. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. Being the Prince’s personal boytoy certainly makes you important.”

Prompto made a choking sound and blushed. There was nothing between him and Noct! They were friends, and equal at that! Prompto didn’t feel that way, and he was pretty sure he would have noticed if Noct had those kinds of feelings towards him. He wasn’t- he wasn’t! “I’m not-!”

The man’s hand snuck into his hair and pulled. Tears formed in Prompto’s eyes as he let out a sharp gasp. He tried to plead, ask to be let go but the words got stuck in his throat.

“I don’t have the time for this, kid. Whether you want it or not, your friendship with the Prince makes you very valuable,” the man told him, voice low and stern this time. “Look at me. I’m being very generous with you. I could gag and blindfold you, even keep you drugged the whole time if I wanted. So do me a favor and behave yourself. If you do everything as you’re told, you might very well get to go home to the little Prince. Understand?”

“Yes,” Prompto released a shuddering breath and nodded. A few tears slid down his face and disappeared into the collar of his uniform.

“Good,” the man said and took a step back. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get ready for the main event. You just sit tight for a while longer.”

Prompto flexed his hands behind the chair and tugged on the ropes with desperation as the man left the room. His fear only grew when it did nothing. He trashed in the chair until he was breathless and exhausted. With a broken sob he slumped down. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be here.

Would anyone come for him? Like he had told the man, he wasn’t anyone important. He was just a random kid. Not even important enough for his parents to be around for more than maybe a week or two in a year. It would most likely take weeks until they would notice something was wrong. Noctis may have been his friend —his best friend —but that didn’t mean the Crown was going to do anything to get him back. Besides, Prompto was almost certain the Crown didn’t negotiate with criminals. Maybe someone had witnessed his kidnapping and would contact the police?

Prompto’s bottom lip quivered and he was almost thrown into another panic attack. “Please, someone…”

No one came. Hours passed, and all Prompto managed to do was make himself even more tired. His wrists were hurting, rubbed raw from the ropes. They were too tight, both on his wrists and ankles, for him to get free. Eventually he drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

He jolted awake an indeterminate time later. There was commotion somewhere close. People were shouting, there were sounds of running and, worst of all, gunshots.

Prompto gasped and pressed himself tightly against the chair. A fresh wave of fear washed over him but this time it was mixed with hope. Could someone be coming for him? His heart raced in his chest, pounding against his ribcage as he watched the door. He didn’t dare to breathe.

The door burst open a minute or two later. It didn’t bring the rescue he had hoped for, however, but instead the two men that had caught him in the morning.

Prompto stiffened, shrinking into his seat with a barely concealed whimper.

“Grab him, we gotta go!” the other, slightly taller one hissed. He was waving a gun in his hand and kept glancing towards the door.

“Wha- what’s going on?” Prompto asked, trying not to flinch when the shorter man came closer.

“Keep your mouth shut!” the man growled. He flicked open a pocket knife and crouched down to cut the ropes around Prompto’s ankles. “And don’t you fucking move or I might just cut something more important!”

Prompto shut his mouth. He was trembling again, terrified.

“Come on grab the kid already, we need to move!” the man by the door exclaimed. He was shifting restlessly now.

“What do you think I’m doing?” the shorter one snapped back. yanked Prompto up from the chair hard enough that the chair fell to its side. Prompto’s legs gave out beneath him, having gone numb a long time ago. The man cursed but kept him upright easily with a bruising grip on his arm.

While the two men continued to bicker, Prompto’s gaze was drawn to a large knife of some sort that sailed through the air and into the room. It was such an absurd sight that for a moment his fear gave way to confusion.

Then there was a crackling noise and a man appeared in the room in a flash of blue sparks, the knife in his hand. This man was wearing a black uniform, one that Prompto recognized as the type the Kingsglaive wore. The man flashed him a cocky smile, even giving a quick bow as the two other men tried to catch up to the situation.

“Hey, kid, close your eyes, okay?” the Glaive said.

Prompto stared at him for a second longer with wide eyes but then the Glaive threw his knife and warped. Prompto shut his eyes, even going as far as to hold his breath. He could hear cursing, sparkle of magic and even smell something burnt. The man holding him jerked him to the side roughly and Prompto couldn’t keep himself from crying out. His eyes stayed closed though.

A moment later there was a grunt right next to him, followed by a coppery smell. The hand holding him let go but then he was being grabbed again. An arm wrapped around his midsection, but this one was more gentle than the one from earlier. He managed to catch a muttered “I’m sorry, kid” before the floor disappeared from beneath him. The world twisted and turned sickeningly even with his eyes closed, and a strong wave of nausea crashed into him. He heard two gunshots but they sounded almost distorted.

Then he hit the ground. He coughed, all air expelled from his lungs. He heaved, both from the lack of air and the nausea swirling in his gut. There was a faint groan from next to him and words that didn’t sound Lucian.

“Nyx!” someone shouted. There was a thunder of approaching footsteps and Prompto whimpered.

“Kid, are you okay? You can open your eyes now.”

Prompto slowly, hesitantly cracked his eyes open to see the Glaive from earlier lying on the floor next to him with a worried look on his face.

“I- I feel sick,” Prompto managed to gasp.

The Glaive’s eyes widened in alarm but in a flash of blue there was a plastic bag in his hands. “Sorry, warping can do that to you. I had to get us out of there fast.”

“Nyx, godsdammit, what the hell was that? You just- is that the Argentum kid?” a feminine voice exclaimed somewhere close but Prompto was too busy making acquaintance with the plastic bag to hear the response.

When his stomach finally calmed down, he slumped down. Surprisingly, there was a strong pair of hands there to catch him. Someone took the bag from him with some disgusted muttering but he didn’t have the energy to pay attention to it.

“You’re safe now, kid.”

That was enough for Prompto to let go of the fear and relax. He was safe now.

[gwiiyeoweo]

“Wake the fuck up, grandpa. We’ve got gods to kill.”

Noctis looks upon him with a wicked grin, the moonlight outlining his silhouette with a fine silver and casting a shadow across his face. But the way his eyes glow, a deep and ominous magenta that cuts through the darkness, makes Ardyn think of him the great oppressing villain instead. And beside him, the ever-merciful Oracle, only smiles along sweetly.

Pairing: Noctis & Ardyn, Lunafreya & Noctis, Lunafreya & Ardyn Rating: Gen

“Wake the fuck up, grandpa. We’ve got gods to kill.”

Ardyn wakes up to a light smack on his cheek, just hard enough to leave a light sting across his face. Either he’s hallucinating or it’s just another horrid nightmare, one of the countless that have plagued him since his imprisonment in this stone tomb. How many times has he awakened to such a scene? Seemingly waking up to a voice and the sensation of another’s hands on him, only to open his eyes to ever darkness and the cold stale air? To feel the chains digging into his flesh and the holy iron piercing into his innards.

So he doesn’t bother opening his eyes, knowing there’s only disappointment should he expect anything other than silence and emptiness.

Until he hears a sigh. Until he hears a woman’s soft song.

Until the chains rattle and the stones quake, and he feels warmth ghost over his skin.

When he wakes out of his daze, there’s no pain piercing through his flesh or the ache in his bones. There’s certainly still a fatigue, yes, that weighs down his body, but the agony is no longer. Relief is an understatement, and he almost wants to cry. He doesn’t know whether to consider this a new, terribly cruel nightmare that’s given him false hope, or a dream that’s arrived as a short mercy. 

So Ardyn opens his eyes, and he thinks he sees Aera and Somnus above him. They both look younger — a funny thing, knowing he’s been imprisoned for at least a dozen years — though Aera’s hair is longer and Somnus looks far, far younger between the two of them. It’s almost cruel, considering how realistic this dream is, and some part of him wants to weep upon seeing them like this. Aera, who he knows is dead, cradling him in her arms with all the warmth of life in her skin. Somnus, who condemned him to this prison in the first place, looking upon him with genuine concern.

How Ardyn misses those days, longs for them.

“Should I smack him harder?” Somnus suggests, and Ardyn thinks that must certainly be his brother, even if the voice is different. The unease is still on his face, however, etched into the corners of his mouth and the set of his eyes. 

“Noctis, please.” Aera, despite the exasperation in her voice, is soft as always. Though the pitch is different. Has all the years robbed him of their memories, so that he can no longer remember the tone of their voices? 

Ardyn wonders what cruel power decided to have its fun with him. Giving him the illusion of freedom — chains released and iron removed — and his family and love returned to him. But the fog in his mind keeps him from going any further than that, and he doesn’t even have the mind to wonder who this Noctis is. He can’t even offer up any resistance except for weak grunts as Somnus hefts him bodily along, both staggering out the long rocky corridor that leads outside his prison.

But when he’s carried out of Angelgard, witnessing the soft lights high across the night sky and breathing in the sea salt air, his heart stops itself thrice over. The first time, it’s at the realization that this isn’t a dream but reality. The second, when he sees Somnus and Aera properly under the bright moonlight, and sees they are not Somnus and Aera after all. 

And the third, after they’ve properly introduced themselves, when they claim to herald from a time and space not too different yet wholly distinct from his own.

“I don’t think you got the memo yet,” Noctis says, stroking his chin. But he pulls his hand away and stares at it, feels for his chin again and mutters something about not being thirty anymore. 

Ardyn doesn’t really understand the notion behind that, but he really has no time to try considering he’s still trying to wrap his head around everything else that seems far more important and life-altering.

On the ride back to the coast, where he can make out the outline of a tall tower — a dead lighthouse, according to Noctis — there’s plenty of time for Ardyn to get filled in on this “memo.” It’s a fantastical story, albeit a tragic one, of a prince and his retinue travelling to meet his fiancée, only to discover his kingdom and his father have met an untimely end and that his bachelor road trip was only the beginning of a grim spiral towards death. 

It’s a story of how Ardyn, gone mad from centuries of imprisonment and betrayal of those he once loved and the gods he worshipped, promised a reckoning upon the world. 

More than half of this was going over Ardyn’s head, despite how much he wants to understand. He thinks he gets the gist of it — most of the prophecy part anyway — though some part of him is in denial that he really would become this embodiment of evil the two claim him to be.

But by the time they near the coast, he can see it. See his descent into madness from years of isolation, experimentation, fear and anger and betrayal. 

When they reach the underground dock and both Noctis and Luna help him down and across, Ardyn almost doesn’t believe them. Not because of the tales they speak, but because despite everything their Ardyn has done to them, they don’t regard him with venom or malice or a demand for retribution. Luna fetches him an extra blanket, and Noctis goes off for only a moment to return with water and unrecognizable food. 

Ardyn takes it all with gratitude anyhow, wraps the blanket around him tighter and downs the glass in one go, even if he half-expects it to be poisoned because such kindness really should not be given to someone that wanted to doom the world. 

Which makes him wonder. Which makes him realize. 

‘Ah, ’ Ardyn thinks, in resignation, ‘they’ve come to end me. Before tragedy strikes.’

It’s logical. It makes sense, far more sense than having them treat their would-be enemy with such tenderness. They probably just want the peace of mind of giving him a tranquil death, some last reprieve before sending him off. 

Still, that’s kind of them. It’s far better than spending centuries dying and dying and dying in a rotten tomb.

“So yeah. Long story short, we got the short end of the stick,” Noctis sums it up, taking the seat across from Ardyn. “You and me were in for some double-suicide thing because Bahamut said so, Luna died because you were being an asshole —”

“In Ardyn’s defense,” Luna interrupts, voice awfully mild despite the fate she suffered — or would suffer — at future(?) Ardyn’s hand, “I would die regardless due to the covenants. And this Ardyn isn’t quite yet the same one we knew.”

“ Yet. Anyway, and if I didn’t manage to kill you? Dragon dick had a back-up plan to zombie-fy Luna and literally vaporize the entire world. So yeah, good-bye humanity that I was apparently supposed to save.”

“And… now?” Ardyn asks, hesitant, then motions a hand to himself, “You've come to nip the bud, I assume.”

Noctis stares at him, then widens his eyes just a fraction in surprise. He turns to Lunafreya, who shares the same expression, and they exchange silent words and sweeping eyebrows. It doesn't take long for them to separate, when Luna turns her head and hides her smile behind her hand, her stifled laughter still evident despite her efforts. Noctis is much the same, though he doesn't even try hiding his face. 

Ardyn isn't as amused as either of them however, and his confusion must show because Noctis quickly recovers and goes for an explanation. 

"No, gods, no. I can't believe you — what would be the point of us getting you out of Angelgard in the first place? There are quicker ways to kill a man y'know. Don't tell me you were this naive back in your day." Noctis shakes his head, but the amusement in his eyes remain. 

Ardyn still doesn't get it. If they're not here to kill him, to stop him before this foretold darkness comes to pass, then why are they here? The prophecy must still exist, the Scourge is still within him — he can feel it crawling and slithering underneath his skin — and no doubt the gods would have his soul banished if they can help it. And no doubt that they'll use every little trick they can.

"I don't understand," Ardyn says slowly, wondering what they would possibly need him for if not for his death. "If you're not here for me, then for what have you come here for?" 

Noctis looks upon him with a wicked grin, the moonlight outlining his silhouette with a fine silver and casting a shadow across his face. But the way his eyes glow, a deep and ominous magenta that cuts through the darkness, makes Ardyn think of him the great oppressing villain instead. And beside him, the ever-merciful Oracle, only smiles along sweetly. 

“Like I said: we’ve got gods to kill.”

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Part Forty-Nine

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: trigger warnings for mentions of past rape and triggers of past parental abuse

It was never fun to have Ash staring him down, eyes glowing bright green to let Lev know Ash absolutely could see him right now. The instinct to fidget under such a frustrated glare was strong.

“My fever didn’t come back,” Lev offered when the silence stretched too long for him to stand.

“Oh?” Ash said. “Why don’t you go ahead and pat yourself on the back for that, then, Lev. Since you think it’s perfectly okay to have intercourse after being brought back from the dead and almost dying from your heat, you must be perfectly fine and not need my help anymore, right?”

Lev shook his head. “No,” he admitted. And... as cranky as the healer was, he had a point. Lev probably should have asked him first. He hadn’t thought it through at all. No, he’d been thinking with his dick, per usual. “I’m sorry,” he added, honestly. “It didn’t occur to me. I should have- should have run it by you first.”

“No shit,” Ash deadpanned. “It’s not like I’m being paid for any of this- or that anyone’s bothering to listen to me about anything, but fine.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Lev touched the back of Ash’s hand. “I really am sorry,” Lev said earnestly. “And- I should have waited. It won’t happen again.”

Ash shoved his hands into his pockets. “See that it doesn’t,” he said. “Do anything else stupid lately? Besides Cameron?”

Lev frowned. “Be nice,” he admonished before he could think to stop himself. A flush crossed his cheeks, but he just went on to say, “Nik wasn’t happy Cam and I...” He shook his head. “And Nik was- he was weird before that.” Lev pulled his knees up to his chest. “Actually, I have a question for you. I... I still don’t remember any of that time. The months I was dead. Is there any way to get that time back?”

Ash looked at him, annoyance rippling across his face. “Yeah,” he said. “But it’s not pleasant. You sure you can handle it?” Ash stopped. “Of course you can, who am I talking to. We don’t listen to my medical expertise, anyways. When do you want it done.”

Lev stared at him. “I don’t know,” he said. “Ash, we don’t have to do anything. It’s not killing me to not know. I don’t think. If you don’t think I should I can wait.”

“No,” Ash said, “It’s not. However, they are your memories and you are entitled to them like you are to your body. It’s just very emotionally taxing and I want to know you can handle it before I decide to go through them.”

Lev gave a small shrug. “I’ll be fine,” he promised. “What- what do we have to do?”

Ash sat down on the coffee table in front of Lev and folded his hands. “We don’t do anything. You let me into your mind and I fix the damaged parts of your temporal lobe. Once it is healed, I can go through your memories and heal them- if you want.”

“What do you mean, heal the... memories?”

“Seperate the emotion from them so you can process. Some memories are too tightly wound with pain that it’s hard to move past them. I take the trauma and you heal.”

Lev looked down. “Is there any way to do that without- I want to learn to heal on my own. I just want the memories accessible to me so I can.”

“We can do that,” Ash said. “But I’ll still have to go through them.”

Lev nodded slowly. “Okay,” he agreed. “Then I don’t have a problem with it.”

“Good,” Ash said, “When do you want to start?”

“As soon as possible,” Lev said. “If that’s okay. If you think that’s wise.”

Ash seemed to think it was well enough, since he leaned forward and cradled Lev’s face. He closed his eyes, hands warming just enough Lev’s face flushed from the heat of Ash’s magic. “Don’t fight me.”

“I won’t,” Lev promised faintly.

Ash seemed to concentrate. His eyebrows furrowed as a pressure built in Lev’s mind. But soon enough Ash pulled back, looking even more annoyed than when he arrived. “There’s nothing to be fixed,” Ash said. “You’re keeping yourself from your memories and I can’t fix that. Well.” He thought on that. “I could, but it would do far more harm than good. How do you feel about a fire in your head?”

It took Lev several seconds to process what Ash meant. “There’s nothing wrong?” Lev finally asked, confused. And then, “A fire in my head seems counterproductive. I don’t want to trigger another fever...”

“Yeah, that was a rhetorical question, genius,” Ash said. “You’re going to need a demon for what you’re wanting. Specifically a telepath. Or to just face your memories head on.”

“Oh,” Lev said softly. “I don’t know any telepaths.” Which meant facing them, apparently. But- Lev didn’t know if he could do that. Didn’t know how to do that.

Cameron snorted from the doorway. “I do,” he said. “Happens to be the queen. Every bit as nasty as you could possibly imagine.”

Ash looked irritable. “Great.”

Lev opened and closed his mouth. “Oh,” he said faintly. “Would- would she even help an angel though?”

“Considering her mate is one,” Ash said, “I give it a 10/90 chance. She hates men more than she hates angels. In fact, from what I understand, she wants to string Nik up by his guts. Though who knows what she’d do with you.”

Because that was comforting. Lev looked to Cameron instead. “Is it a bad idea?” Lev asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” a low feminine voice said from behind Cameron. “Still making up my mind.”

Cameron seemed perfectly unfazed to see the slight, tanned woman who walked straight into the room. The sentries didn’t lift a finger to try and detain her. She cut a cold, calculating look at Lev. She then completely dismissed him and turned her focus right back to Cameron. “Care to tell me why you decided to go ahead and not tell me why you’re performing necromancy in my territories?” She held up a manicured hand and looked at Lev. “He doesn’t seem like much for the effort considering how much unrest seemed to come from this.”

Lev flicked a glance between all three of them before settling his gaze on Cameron again, looking for guidance on how he was supposed to respond. “I’m lucky to have someone who loved me enough to fight for me,” Lev finally said.

The woman lifted a groomed brow at that very diplomatic nonanswer and turned her icy eyes back to Cameron. “And did you love this angel enough to go over my head for such a thing?”

“No,” Cameron said, smoothly, matching her exact tone. “But Amara did.”

Lev winced. “She’s very headstrong,” he said softly.

The woman looked vaguely disgusted. “I’ve noticed,” she said, flatly. “Where’s the annoying one at?” She cut a look at Ash. “And I don’t mean that one.” She turned to Lev. “Do you know or do you not actually know anything besides how to be a thorn in my side.”

“Staying in angel territory,” Lev admitted after a long moment. “Amara’s keeping an eye on him.” He waved his new phone at her halfheartedly. “She says he’s safe.”

“Unfortunate,” She said, with enough deadpan that Lev winced. She stalked over to him and held out her hand. “Phone.” Her tone was laced with pure order.

Lev handed it over without a second thought.

---

Amara sat up, flailing for her phone. Where was it? That was Lev’s ringtone, and she was not going to miss a phone call from him. Without hesitation she crawled over Cin, ignoring his grunt when her knee found his ribs. Half off the bed, she put the phone to her ear. “Lev?” She answered, trying to pull herself back up with one hand.

“Try again.”

“Biela?” Amara asked, letting Cin haul her up. “What are you doing with Lev’s phone?” She paused. “Should I be worried?”

“Should you?” Biela asked, sounding bored. “Still making up my mind. Your answers will probably dictate whether or not you should be.”

“Delightful as ever,” Amara muttered, rubbing her face. She smacked Cin’s hand when he tried to fix her hair, but let him pull her in his lap and nibble on her shoulder. “If you’re pissed I killed Destris, he was a fucking- he deserved it, even if he hadn’t killed my cousin.”

“Why would I care about that piss-poor excuse of a man,” Biela said. “As far as I’m concerned it saves me a dry cleaning bill. I want to know why you decided to bring back an angel from the dead in my territories without my express permission and if you give me some bullshit about you being a mutt I’ll cut your tongue out.”

Well. Biela was in a mood. Normally, Amara would enjoy poking at it, but today she just sighed. “Honestly? Didn’t even cross my mind to ask permission. I did what I had to. And I’ll deal with the consequences of it, if that was a punishable offense. Lev’s done nothing wrong, except not have a single ounce of self preservation.”

Biela made a disgusted sound. “That gives me no reason to care about him,” she said. “However, as I just got my nails done, I won’t just kill him and put him back where he belongs. For now.” Biela was quiet for a moment. “I expect a visit.”

And with that the line went dead.

Amara flopped back with a groan against Cin’s chest. “And people call me a bitch,” she moaned.

“Biela?” Cin asked, tension lining his body.

“Yeah,” Amara muttered. She looked up at him. “Is it bad I’m turned on right now?”

Cin pushed her off his lap.

---

Nik wiggled out from under the several throw blankets Mami had smothered him in when he heard his phone start buzzing. He cleared his throat and frowned when he saw Lev’s name. He wiped his eyes and answered. “Yeah?”

“You go through the troubles of making my life difficult and you’re not even here?”

Nik blinked. “Who the fuck- Biela?” He sat up ramrod straight. “Why do you have Lev’s phone? Listen, he didn’t do anything to you-”

“Of course he didn’t,” Biela said, distaste coating her tone. “Everyone around him did instead. Your brother is mated with your king and I find out through my spies that necromancy is being performed in my territory.”

“Okay?” Nik said, his voice rising. “I don’t know what the fuck you want me to do about it. I’m not the one who fucking did it and Lev’s an angel and Amara likes to flount around that she’s some kind of mutt or whatever, and it was a witch that performed it. My bad you’re straddled with the paperwork.”

He could almost see that tiny, ferocious smile. “And what do you think I should do about it? I have angels in my territories deciding to break the laws of nature because, what, you all think this is a game with no rules? Even think about doing something like this again, and you won’t have to worry about the consequences. There’ll be nothing left of you.”

And with that, she decidedly hung up when his mouth dropped. “That bitch.”

Nik got up and went to find clean clothes.

---

Biela hung up the phone and dropped it into the angel’s lap. She glowered down at him and he only watched her with big golden eyes. The fact he had the nerve to do so after the trouble he caused, when she had no reason to trust or respect the angel, rankled her. She grabbed his chin- if she truly wanted, she could just give a sharp snap and this be done with, however, she gave Amara her word. For now. “Quit staring at me like that,” she said before walking out of the room, motioning for Cameron to follow her.

The sentries all stared down at the floor the moment she came into view on the way to Cameron’s office. The nearest sentry opened the door in time for her to walk inside and take the desk chair for herself.

Cameron stood mildly on the other side of the desk with a straight spine and hands oh so carefully folded behind his back. “At least with the first one,” she said, “I could respect that he was a warrior, even if he kept trying to sleep with me. This one? Is just useless.”

Cameron lifted a slight shoulder. “He keeps Nik on a leash when I’m busy.”

“And the fact they’re both angels?” Biela said. “I did not spend three hundred years in the thick of war for the sons of prominent angels to end up in the bed of one of my lords, Cameron. I have half the mind to feed them to demons and wash my hands of this whole mess.”

She crossed her legs. “However,” she said. “As they both are so heavily tied to the king of Liwen, I’ll let it pass. Bring another angel into this and I will not be so forgiving.”

“Of course,” he said. “Is there anything I can do to ease anxieties?”

She let a smile curl on her lips. “I expect you to debrief your pets. Let them know exactly what will be happening if they stay here. I do find it fascinating that you chose one that could so easily be eaten. Though, he was killed already, so I do suppose it’s not unsurprising.”

Biela rapped her nails against the wooden table. The security risks that these particular angels posed to her people, even if they seemed harmless enough, Biela knew better and she wasn’t going to make the mistake of her country shoved into another war. “Why don’t you tell me if I should be worried about something like this happening again, hm?”

Cameron didn’t blink an eye. “Permission to be frank?”

She waved a hand. “Since you asked.”

“Once more,” he said. “I have the resources to right a wrong done to one of mine. The blood is on my hands and I would like to balance the scales. There would be no security risk; there would be no other costs to worry about.”

“You’re going to perform necromancy. Again.” Biela said. “And why should I let this happen?”

“It’s a demon of your own homeland,” He said. “Your god is his god and he is no one to anyone.”

Her small smile returned. “Except to you,” she said. “Clearly he’s someone to you. You expect me to forgive this operation not only once, but twice? Is that what you are requesting of me?”

“Yes.”

“Because he’s what? From my homeland?” she asked, lifting a brow. “Do you take me for a sentimentalist?”

“I take you for a fair queen who would give her people a chance to make things right,” Cameron replied.

Biela stared him down. She could feel the weight in those perfectly calculated words. Not so long ago she had risked everything to right a wrong done to her. “Your toy mentioned a witch?” she said, finally. “Is that right? I know you’re not bastardizing demonic magic to perform this lunacy.”

“I am not,” he said. “The witch is pulling from Nature.”

She clicked her nails once more. “Where is this witch?”

---

Sorin watched Biela walk in his front door and damn near fell on his face in his haste to stand at attention. “My queen,” he said with a deep bow, even as his heart pounded. He didn’t even dare to ask why she was here. The last time he’d seen her had been when he’d been discharged from the army after Fax had died, and that hadn’t exactly been his best day.

“Where’s the witch?”

Again, Sorin’s chest tightened. “In his study,” Sorin said as he straightened, mouth dry. “Please. He’s all I have.”

Biela paused, leveling him with an unimpressed look. “What exactly do you think I’m going to do to him.”

Sorin didn’t know how to reply. Before he could figure it out, Cyrus appeared from his study. “It’s alright, Sorin.” Cyrus looked too tired, and there was a slight tremor to his hands. The witch looked at Biela calmly. “He’s always a bit anxious. How can I help you?”

Biela folded her arms. “Why are you performing necromancy on my lands?”

“A poorly thought out deal with Amara Claire, made on Sorin’s behalf.” Cyrus slid his hands into his pockets. “I’m a man of my word, and I offered her any spell she wanted. She chose necromancy.”

“A mistake,” she said, unimpressed, “making bargains with Amara Claire."

Cyrus flicked a look back at Sorin, who wanted so badly to go to his side. Instead he watched as Cyrus regarded Biela again. “It’s not a mistake I plan on making a second time. I only did so at the time for Sorin.” He paused, and added dryly, “It’s not like she was particularly helpful on her end of the bargain anyway.”

Biela lifted a brow. “But you’ll make the same mistake a second time anyways, for Cameron Luain, will you not? I’d be more lenient on the idea of it being a mistake if it only happened once, and yet, you’ll be performing the same spell a second time. Soon, if I’m understanding correctly. Why should I let you?”

Cyrus lifted a shoulder. “We all need different forms of closure. And when I summoned Cameron’s ghost, there was something in Cameron’s face. Whoever he is, he’s important. And I wasn’t going to waste bringing Levant back just to watch them all struggle if they need this man too.” He hesitated. “Cameron said Levant was asking for this demon. I’m assuming they met while Levant was dead.”

Biela’s face went very carefully neutral. “You make it sound like I care what that angel wants,” she said, coldly. But then just as quickly waved it off. “But fine. Have your spell. This one spell. But first, you will give me access to this spirit, and to your mind. Otherwise, it’s a no. And I will make sure you recognize the no as what it is.”

“Okay,” Cyrus said, reaching out for Sorin’s hand. Sorin was at his side in a heartbeat, helping Cyrus into his study. With a flick of his wrist, Sorin lit Cyrus’ candles, and then he settled on the floor beside his witch.

It took Cyrus a few minutes, but he managed to pull Darius’ spirit into being with a murmured apology.

Darius looked almost startled when he appeared. But the moment his eyes locked on Biela, a calmness spread across his light brown face. Biela and Darius both shared similar features of someone from the same homeland, even if Biela held herself worlds apart from everyone else.

Darius bowed at the waist deeply, before elegantly righting himself and offering her a small smile. “Your majesty,” he said. “It’s an honor.”

“I’m sure,” Biela said. “I understand you’re wanting to be brought back from the dead. How long have you been dead and why should I care about a resurrection? We all have lost someone, and Cameron shouldn’t get to bring back the dead because he made a mistake.”

Darius seemed to think on that. He didn’t look hurt by her brutal words, and just held her steely gaze steadily. “Cameron’s entire life has been very carefully moulded into a perfect tool for his parents. Would it be so bad to let him have one selfish thing to make up for five hundred years of isolation and depersonification?”

Sorin couldn’t decide who he should look at. Darius was- he was new. Biela was his queen. He didn’t know if he should keep his eyes on her out of respect, or the opposite, for the exact same reason. In the end, he fixed his eyes on Cyrus, who managed a wan smile just for him.

Biela’s face was kept at her perfect icy neutrality. “At the risk of even more dark magic being released into my earth? For one man? Compared to millions of people under my protection? I should kill everyone involved,” she said. “That kind of threat needs to be extinguished.” She slid her eyes to Sorin. “You’re exmilitary. You’ve seen the war and bloodshed, and the slaughter to our people. What do you think should be done?”

Sorin blinked, startled by being addressed. “I think,” he finally said carefully, “That- well-” Lying would get him nowhere, so he swallowed. “I think that necromancy is a dangerous thing. For the spellcaster, and for the people involved. I think most people don’t get the chance to even try, and- I feel like it’s not fair. But- I’m not sure I can give a good answer. I’m not unbiased. And I don’t know what I think, anyway.”

Cyrus looked a little pained. He swiped his thumb over the back of Sorin’s hand sympathetically, and then went still again. Right. Well then.

“You don’t know what you think,” she said. “Typical answer. I don’t know what else I was expecting.” She turned to Cyrus, eying him carefully. “I see you carry the braincell in the relationship. Then again, you were the one to release that bastardized magic. You were the one to taint my lands, and you were the one to decide to play with forces that do not belong to you. Can’t even get your own magic. You’re siphoning a demon to do the spell.”

Cyrus, to his credit, didn’t even blink. “I was,” he agreed. “I took a lot of effort to make sure my steps could not be retraced. Just as Amara took plenty to keep others from finding out Levant died in the first place. I don’t want anyone but me knowing this spell. I don’t think even I want to know this spell when it’s all said and done. It’s too much twisted power, and it’s not fair to other people grieving.”

Biela clicked her manicured nails along her arm. “So you admit that you tainted my lands,” she said. “And what do you think I should do about that? You admit that that was too much power, and too much dark power at that. Why should you get the pardon? Because you’re a witch and Amara tricked you? You’re the victim in all of this, right? Forced to help Amara Claire because of a poorly worded promise.”

“I’m not a victim. I chose what morals I needed to stick to. Releasing dark magic wasn't my intention. And I’ve made no such promise to Cameron Luain. I said I’d try. If you forbid it, that’s that. I tried.” He didn’t flinch when Sorin’s hand tightened on his. “I’m not a demon, but this is your kingdom, and Sorin’s your subject. Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson about Amara Claire.”

“Hm.” Biela turned back to Darius, shifting her inky black hair behind her shoulder. He met her icy gaze steadily. “Cameron murdered you in cold blood,” she said. “Knife in your throat, yes? Just let you bleed out on his pretty carpets and you want to come back from the dead for him?”

“With all due respect,” Darius said, after a moment of thought, “I think we both know there was nothing cold blooded about an animal trapped in a corner doing what it took to survive.”

What a strange way to describe Cameron. Sorin found it hard to believe Cameron had ever been trapped in anything he didn’t have a way to get out of.

“Fair enough,” Biela said, airly. To Cyrus, she said, “I’ll grant it. You do not do it on my lands, and you do not use a single demon or their magic to do so. If you do, I will find out, and you will find your life, and Sorin’s life, forfeit. Do I make myself clear?”

Cyrus had the sense to dip his head respectfully as he murmured, "Understood."

Biela switched her gaze to Sorin. It took him several seconds to realize what she was waiting for. “Of course, Your Majesty,” Sorin said quickly, lowering his gaze.

And then she was gone. Sorin blinked at the space she’d left, the door swinging shut with a gentle click. Only after she was gone did Cyrus let out a very small, tired sigh. Sorin swung around, peering at his mate.

“Sometimes,” Cyrus offered, “I wish I wasn’t a witch.” He squeezed Sorin’s hand, before looking to Darius. “I’m sorry.”

Darius gave a small shrug. “I’m sorry you’re in this position.”

“It’s what I get for being a young witch genius without a coven,” Cyrus replied, not even a little bit of ego to his tone. “I should have known better than to make promises without terms.”

Darius offered him a small smile. “I am afraid that is something we must learn with age, and you are still very young.”

Cyrus considered that. “True,” he admitted. “It still stings to have been dragged into this by someone at least ten years younger than me, though. I should have realized she had ulterior motives.”

---

Lev hadn’t moved from the couch. He’d just pulled his knees up and rested his cheek on them as he stared past Ash and tried not to think at all.

“Just breathe. She’s not going to eat you,” Ash finally said, catching Lev off guard.

He shifted his attention to Ash. “I know,” he said. “She would have already... right?”

“...Sure.”

Comforting. Lev tucked his cheek against his knees again, closing his eyes. “I want Nik,” he finally said in a small voice.

“You could call him, you know,” Ash pointed out. “You have a phone.”

Lev looked down on the phone on the cushion beside him. “Oh,” he said. Right. Nik had to be worried; he hadn’t called him in the hour after Biela had used his phone to talk to Nik. As he found Nik’s contact info, he settled back against the couch, tucking the phone against his face.

Nik picked up immediately. “What the fuck do you want, you phychopath?”

“Nik?” Lev said, his voice getting smaller. He knew Nik wasn’t mad at him, but still.

“Oh. Lev.” Nik paused. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Lev promised. “Are you? You... you’ve been gone for a while.”

Nik was quiet for a little bit. “I’m on my way home. I needed to think.”

Small chill went down Lev’s spine. He understood. “Are you mad at me?” He asked softly. “It’s okay if you are. I just wanna know.”

“I’ll get over it,” Nik eventually replied.

“Okay,” Lev said softly. He chewed on his lip briefly, and then said, “Drive safe?”

“I'll be home soon.”

Lev hesitated. “I’m trying to get my memories back. The months I was... gone.”

“Um. Are you sure you want to do that?”

“They’re my memories. Why shouldn’t I?” Lev flicked Ash a look, and then said, “Everyone’s being weird. I want to know what I missed.”

“Fair enough.” Nik was quiet for a bit longer, and then, “I’m still an hour out. I’d better go.”

“Okay.” Lev tightened his grip on the phone. “I love you.”

“Love you.”

Lev waited until he was sure Nik hung up to put the phone down. Somehow, he didn’t feel any better.

“Why do you think Nik’s mad at you?” Ash asked, snagging Lev’s attention before he could bury himself in his anxiety again.

“I had sex with Cameron after Nik- after he couldn’t sleep with me.” Ash looked pained at Lev’s words. “He- Nik - flinched. So I told him we could wait. And he didn’t like that. But- Cameron offered later, and Nik wasn’t home, and- things have been weird and I wanted normal.”

“I mean no offense, Lev, but you just got brought back from the dead. Normals not in your wheelhouse any time soon.”

Lev winced. “I guess I should have known that,” he replied. “But I want it all the same.”

Maybe Ash would have figured out a response to that, but before he could, Biela appeared in the doorway. Lev slowly sat up, settling criss cross. “Majesty,” Lev said hesitantly, dipping his head as low as he could without risking toppling off the couch.

“Let’s get this over with,” was all she said.

Lev bit back his surprise that she was even going to help, but the next moment he could feel her, holding his mind without even taking a step in the room. He was dragged along with her as she went through his memories. Memories so old it was eerie seeing them again. His mother’s face. His father’s. Their death, and living with his Gramma.

The only time Biela slowed in her precise, unflinching sorting through his memories was when she dug up flashes of times he absolutely hadn’t wanted to see again. And the details. He’d asked for this, but he hadn’t expected to go back so far. He’d purposefully forgotten how bad it’d been, with Remi, with Vehuel, even with Silas, despite Silas’ attempts to shield him. Going back through them was more visceral than he expected; he could feel every touch, hear every word, and it struck him to the core all over again.

He was still reeling when Biela found his more recent memories. He didn’t have time to feel embarrassed about his brief but warm time with Fax, or how quickly he fell for Nik and Cameron after they took him in. How quickly he came to find a home here, in a way he had only begun to feel with Fax.

But it was a new sort of pain to see the months where he had been dead. Watching Nik and Cameron struggle- and what Lev had done.

By the time Biela let go and pulled her thoughts from his, he was crying silently. He touched his cheeks, wiping the tears away with shaky hands. To his surprise, Ash put his hand on Lev’s shoulder. After a few seconds, Lev lifted his gaze to Biela and Cameron in the doorway, only to realize Nik was waiting there as well. How long had-?

“Nik?” Lev finally croaked.

Nik gave him a lopsided smile. “Hey Princess. You doing okay?”

Lev shook his head, and might have gotten up if Ash hadn’t kept his hand on Lev’s shoulder. Thankfully, Nik crossed the room, settling beside him. Lev twisted until he could bury his face in Nik’s shoulder, grabbing at Nik’s shirt as he took several deep breaths. Old memories flickered behind his eyes, but he pushed them back for now.

Only when he was sure he wasn’t going to start crying again did he look up at Biela again. She seemed to have paled, and though she kept her face neutral, she looked tired. “Thank you,” Lev finally managed. “For helping me.” Even if guilt was already eating away at him.

“You’re welcome.” She looked to Cameron. “I want to speak with you.”

They left, and Lev almost started crying again. After he got himself under control, he said to no one in particular, “Can you help me to the kitchen? I- I need to move.”

Nik helped Lev up without saying a word. Ash followed behind, also silent. Diner was done, sitting on the stove ready to be served, and Cameron had even set the table. He stared at everything, breath hitching. His thoughts were still spinning, and he couldn’t quite catch them all. Nothing made sense, except the one phrase that kept echoing in his mind.

It wasn’t fair.

Before he could think about it, he scooped up a bowl and shattered it on the floor. Beside him, Nik flinched, but the sound of it breaking was so satisfying he threw another, just to hear it again. By that point Cameron appeared in the doorway.

Lev looked right at him, and blurted, “It’s not fair. None of this is fucking fair. I didn’t deserve this. Any of it.” Cameron only stared back, face unreadable. “I didn’t ask to be born like this. I didn’t ask for Rem- for- he raped me, for years and I- I didn’t want it. I didn’t deserve- Fax didn’t deserve- and then- Destris-” He was crying again, breath hitching. “I was pregnant. That’s why I left. I was trying to figure out what to do because you don’t want kids, and we already have Eden, and now it’s gone-”

Nik was moving, leaving, and Lev didn’t blame him, not one bit. “But none of that matters, if- what I did while I was dead- I might as well have tried to actually kill him. And that’s not okay. That was my fault. And no one’s done anything about it. No one told me. What I did was unforgivable. To you, to Nik, to Nate. And no one let me face the consequences. You didn’t let me face Remi. You didn’t let me face Vehuel. And maybe I couldn’t, but no one has ever given me the choice.” He wiped his face. “I’ve been trying to be better. They made you a weapon, but they made me a doll and then they got angry when that’s all I knew how to be. But even that doesn’t excuse what I did.”

“You can start facing them now,” Cameron said.

And somehow, that calmed Lev down some. “I can?” he said, caught off guard.

Cameron lifted a brow. That was all the response Lev was going to get, apparently.

Lev looked down at the mess he made. Right. He’d done that. He knelt, reaching for the bigger pieces. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, taking a shuddering breath. “I shouldn't have- I’ll buy you more.”

“Leave it. Nik needs you more than some broken glass.”

Lev stared at the mess. “I- I’ll clean it up later,” he said. Promised.

Cameron gave a slight nod, and so Lev eased to his feet, setting the pieces in his hands on the table. He slipped past Ash, in the doorway, and paused when he saw Biela. Her face was unreadable, but she just said, “Be careful what you wish for.”

Lev had no idea what to say to that, so he just gave a quiet, “Yes ma'am.”

When she didn’t stop him, he moved on, tracking Nik down by scent and a little luck. His mate was curled up under several blankets in Cameron’s bed. Lev crawled up next to him, but left space between them.

“Nik?” he said in a small voice. When he got no answer, Lev settled down, tucking his face in the pillow. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper,” he said. “I’m not angry with you.”

From under the blankets, Lev heard a sniffle.

Lev reached out to touch Nik’s head over the blankets. “I wasn’t- I didn’t mean to tell you like that. I’m- I should have found a better way.”

“Are you going to stay like that?” Nik finally asked from under the blankets.

“Like what?” Lev asked, hesitantly.

Nik was quiet for a long moment. Eventually he said in a voice just as small as Lev’s, “Violent.”

Oh. Guilt rose up, yet again. “No,” he promised. “I’m- I was wrong. I should never have acted like that.” He pulled at the blankets questioningly. “Nik. Can- can I see you?”

Nik slowly poked his head out.

“I’m never going to hit you,” Lev promised. “I won’t. And I won’t- I won’t let myself get angry like that again.”

Nik nodded slowly. Lev reached out, stroking Nik’s cheek. Nik shrank back, just a little, so small Lev almost missed it, but not enough to pull away.

Lev meant to reassure him again, but all that came out was, “I know you’re pregnant. And I want you to know I’m not mad.”

To Lev’s horror, Nik’s face crumpled. Before Lev could do anything else, Nik was crying, hard. Lev scooted closer, crawling under the blankets with Nik without a second thought. “It’s okay,” Lev whispered. “I promise.”

Nik pressed his face in Lev’s neck, still crying. Eventually he said, “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” Lev promised. “It’s okay.” He pressed a kiss to the side of Nik’s head. “I don’t care what happened.”

“Does Cameron know?” Nik whispered.

“Yes,” Lev said honestly. “We were waiting for you to tell us.” He stroked Nik’s hair. “At your own pace.”

Nik stiffened under Lev’s hands. “Is he mad at me?”

“No.” Lev cupped Nik’s face. “Neither of us are. We just want you taken care of.”

Nik nodded against Lev’s neck. “Okay.”

Lev closed his eyes. “Okay,” he repeated softly. He patted Nik’s hair again. “Nik? While we’re on deep and scary subjects, do you wanna talk about the mate with a capital M thing, or...?”

“Not really.”

“We can wait,” Lev promised. They’d avoided it since his heat. He could wait a bit longer.

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