#calm pawn voice our collection grows

[soloavengers]

Finally made Winnie (as Elwynn) as her former and first Arisen had made her <3 Please ignore the Arisen scar that was an oversight I’m crying. She does look like the Winnie we know (who’s a wee bit Bestowed) because her Arisen might have deep down wished for a daughter. She used to be obsessed with stories of Valkyries as a little girl, so naturally she pictured one when came the time to summon her own Pawn. I hope she looks like someone whose seconds away from hopping onto a winged horse and flying away with a war-cry 💕⚔️

[arpicityandneed]

Omg I need more Loki x Thor x sister reader

But maybe in this one reader finds out that Loki is adopted and refuses to believe it and had an entire meltdown about it screaming she crying because she’s so sad he’s not her biological brother

(After re-reading your other one 73846 times I have made a theory that reader is the goddess of peace snd calm)

You don’t gotta write this btw

a/n: I may or may not have gotten carried away. enjoy and thanks for this ask!!

18+ f!reader. Dark content. Incest. Stepcest? Hurt/comfort. Implied Loki x Thor. Reader has a fit and hits Loki.

It was rare to be summoned home, especially after you were married off. Despite your brother's visiting you in your new home, despite the potion Loki gave you to give your husband dreams of a pleasurable wedding night so he'd leave you alone, you were unhappy being away from Asgard.

You missed the gardens you used to read in, you missed the glint of the sun on gold, and you missed being pampered by your brothers without having to hide.

So when you were summoned by your mother you wore your finest dress and practically ran up the castle steps, bursting into the great hall expecting to see Odin on the throne as usual.

Your smile faltered as you saw your mother standing beside the empty throne instead.

"Mother?" Your voice was small, noting the dark circles under your mothers eyes and the way her mouth was pinched with worry.

"The AllFather has fallen into the Odin Sleep. We need our family close at this time of strife, so you will be staying with us until the issue is... resolved."

You were going to respond when you heard raised voices coming closer. You frowned, Thor and Loki fought often but never with such coldness in their voices. They came through the doors without even noticing you at first.

"She has a right to know her brother-" Thor's booming voice was bordering on a growl, but Loki surprised you more.

"I'm not her brother!" He roared, and for once Thor fell silent.

"What?" The word was barely a whisper as it left your lips, looking between Thor and Loki's faces. Desperately searching for some sign that this was a sick joke.

"Oh mother didn't tell you?" Loki's bad habit was on full display, pushing people away the moment he needed them most. He smirked at you even as you saw the pain in his eyes. "I'm not your brother. I'm just another relic in Odin's collection. A frost giant's child he wanted to use as a pawn for his own gains." Loki spat, an ugly sneer on his handsome face.

"Mother, say it isn't true." You whirled around, your gaze growing blurry with tears as you begged your mother to right this horrible wrong.

"Your father loves you Loki, no matter who sired you. You are my son." Frigga spoke calmly, but her voice was full of pain. "Now, look after your sister. I must attend to the AllFather." Frigga left without looking back, her pain and worry evident in every line of her body.

"No." Your voice shook, and you swore you could hear the sound of your heart shattering into a million pieces.

"Sister," Thor started to reach for you but you pulled back.

"No. It can't be true!" Tears streamed down your cheeks as you looked to Loki accusingly. "You're lying."

Loki merely bowed mockingly before he started to shift before your eyes. His eyes became blood red and his skin was an icy blue, and you saw his true form for the first time. You knew if you touched him you'd be burned by the frigid cold emanating from his skin.

"Frost. Giant." Loki purred, and you lost it.

You flew at him in a rage, kicking and screaming and biting and scratching. "You're mine, take it back! You're mine!" Distantly you felt Thor trying to pull you off, and the cold of Loki's blue skin beneath your hands. But you were lost in your despair and grief, great sobs wracking your body as your anger suddenly drained out of you.

Thor held you as you fell to the floor, exhausted and hollow as you faced the reality of it.

Loki wasn't yours.

~

You locked yourself in your room for days. Thor would bring you food and try to cajole you to come see the gardens, have some tea, visit mother. But nothing appealed to you.

The world wasn't right, and it would never be right again. Food tasted like nothing, you couldn't sleep without nightmares of being abandoned and left out in the cold.

Loki hadn't come to see you once.

Looking back he hadn't even fought back, he'd merely stood there while you slapped him and clawed at him, hands behind his back and his eyes full of heartbreak.

Sometimes you'd hear yelling outside your door, and sometimes you even thought you'd heard Loki's voice. But every time you went to the door the hallway would be empty.

Until one night you woke with a scream of Loki's name on your lips. Another nightmare, faceless figures taking him away with nothing for you to do.

"I'm here." Loki murmured quietly. He was sitting on the edge of your bed like he'd always been there. You had no idea how long he'd watched you sleep.

"Are you?" You asked bitterly, hugging your knees to your chest.

"Y/n..."

"You won't even call me sister now, and you expect me to answer?" You glared at him. "You should leave, I'm not allowed to have strange men in my room." You knew you were being petty, but every bit of distance he put between you hurt more than you could bear.

"Look. I can't go back and change things, alright?" Loki sighed, running a hand through his raven hair. His voice dropped and you could hear his sincerity. "But if I could I'd be your brother in every other lifetime."

"And this lifetime? What about us now?" You asked quietly, painfully aware that you were only dressed in a sheet and the object of your obsession was only an arms reach away.

"You'd truly still want me, even knowing I'm a monster?" His voice broke on the last word and he turned away from you. Understanding dawned and you crawled over to him, settling your naked form in his lap and cupping his cheeks in your small hands.

"You're my brother in every way that counts. And you are not a monster. You have protected me, taught me everything I know about magic, and loved me better than any husband ever could. You and Thor are the only ones who have my heart. My body. My soul. I'm yours. Your sister." You were quiet but firm as you spoke, and eventually you felt him put his arms around you.

"If we have a child, you won't be able to pass it off as a full blooded Asgardian. Your husband will know." Loki reasoned, and you opened your mouth to answer before Thor spoke. You and Loki had been to caught up in each other to notice as he came to check on you after hearing you cry out.

"Then we get rid of her husband." Thor said as if it were the obvious solution, coming to sit on the bed beside Loki. He punched his brother's arm firmly before muttering. "I told you she'd forgive you if you just talked to her."

You cuddled into Loki's chest as he held you, reaching out to take Thor's hand and shrugging casually even as you plotted your husbands assassination.

"My husband is starting to develop feelings for me, I'm sure he'll try to touch me soon anyway." You mumbled and Thor growled.

"Maybe my potions are a bit too well made." Loki chuckled before he groaned, your mouth latching onto his neck as your desire to be closer to him took over.

"You still have to atone, brother." You murmured against his ear just to feel him shiver, grinding your cunt down onto his lap as you nipped at his earlobe. "You were mean to me. Made me cry."

"She's right Loki, you know better than to be mean to our baby." Thor was angry, possessive, and more than a little desperate to make sure Loki knew who he belonged to. "And as the oldest, I think it's only fair that I decide what your punishment is."

Loki looked between the two of you with a faint smirk on his lips.

"I submit to my punishment then."

~

A few months after the announcement of your pregnancy, your husband had a hunting accident. The AllFather awoke from his deep slumber to find his daughter queen of a foreign land just as he intended. He allowed you to come home as soon as you decreed to your subjects that you would be joining with Asgard as one nation, his desire for power and more land fully satisfied.

You spent the remainder of your pregnancy under your brother's careful watch. You never lifted anything heavier than your silverware when you ate, and even then it was a rarity. No, you were more often found in one of their laps as they hand fed you.

And when the time finally came, your son was born with night black hair and eyes that switched between deep blue and bright red depending on his mood.

[possessivedesires]

He Betrays The LOV

Yandere: Villain Izuku

Reader: hero in training

Backstory: after Izuku was crushed by his once hero idol who told him he could never be a hero, the LOV had seen him. By the time the villains had reached out to him, Izuku had already inherited OFA. But he wanted to make the heroes pay for creating a world that made his own hell growing up, becoming a double agent for the LOV. Until… he met you. But the LOV doesn’t like the new little distraction that he has…

I know... I shouldn't be getting this close. I’m here to make the hero society fall… But yet…

The room was dark, Izuku sitting at the desk while he was flipping through the scrapbook. Everything and anything about you, his beloved, his perfect little puppy. Every little detail, pictures of you, even little small trinkets that he snagged from you.

A figure appeared in his window, blue eyes narrowed with petty anger. The figure’s palms heating, his thoughts swirling of wanting to make Izuku pay for what he did the figure. But Izuku knew he was there, he could sense him. Closing the book of his beloved gently, sharp green eyes looked up at the wall. “Hello Dabi.”

“What the hell was that Izuku?” Dabi sneered, jumping into the room as Izuku stood up from the desk slowly. The air around Izuku was dangerous, any piece of his cheerful mask during the school day was gone. His hands pressing against the desk as Izuku asked, murderously calm, “Dabi… What the hell are you doing here?”

“You tried to fucking kill me! And now you’re surprised I’m here? Such a fucking idiot.” Dabi hissed venomously, almost losing his composure at seeing Izuku sharp eyes immediately looking back at his sharp turn. If this was a normal circumstance, Izuku would have felt guilty about almost attacking his teammate… But the reason he almost murdered Dabi didn’t let him feel an ounce of guilt.

“Is that why you’re here? To get revenge? Does Shigaraki know that you’re here? Being a fucking pest.” Izuku narrowed his eyes, showing no sparkle or warmth that his classmates were used to. Blue eyes narrowed, clenching his jaw. “I don’t need to be reporting everythin to that crusty asshole. But you… You fucking bastard-“

“I did what I had to.” Izuku cut him off, not scared of Dabi. Even going as far as to turn away from him, showing just how little of a threat he was to Izuku. It pissed off the pyromaniac, clenching his smoking hands. “Bullshit Zero! There was no one important around!”

Izuku tensed immediately at hearing that, feeling the shot of heat rush through his veins. Anger running this his mind, green eyes glaring at Dabi as the pyromaniac grinned at seeing his reaction. A weakness, a challenge. “You should have let me kill that fucking brat Zero.”

“No. They weren’t supposed to be there. Our only plan was to take Katsuki.” Izuku placed a hand on the surface of his desk, he was calm once more. That’s what always pissed off Dabi, how Izuku always seemed to be collected and always a step ahead. No matter what was going on… He needed to attack that weakness again… “You were the one who led them there.”

Dabi’s anger was burning hot as his flames, suddenly feeling a sharp pain on his chest. A knife digging in the wall from Izuku’s throw, his eyes narrowed and the murderous feeling made his eyes cold. Sparks of blue flames were beginning to show in his palms, wanting nothing more than to rip his throat out.

“You’ve gotten attached to a stupid pawn?” Izuku stood up straight at hearing the familiar scratchy voice behind him, his cold mask on his face. The anger of Dabi calling you no one important was gone. “Hello Shigaraki.”

“Zero.” Shigaraki responded, narrowing his eyes. The leader was annoyed with the thought of one of his best getting attached to a hero. “We’re going to pull you out now. You can’t stay here anymore, especially since you were supposed to come back after the attack at camp. But yet… You decided to stay. Now we know why.”

“Don’t even think about it, I’m not going anywhere.” Izuku turned away from Shigaraki, making the leader annoyed that Izuku felt comfortable enough to turn his back to him. “Then I’ll kill them.”

“Not happening, I won’t let them get hurt.” Shigaraki hated the fact that Izuku was easily going against him. Anger boiling under his skin, wanting to get Izuku back on his leash. Grinding his teeth in anger, digging for his phone and wanting to see Izuku listening once again. “So they’ll be the one die first instead, Bakugou can wait.”

Shigaraki was swiping his fingers through pictures of UA students, trying to figure out who it was that made Izuku want to defy him. Grinding his teeth, scratching his neck in anger. “I can’t let them be in the way… Yes, we can’t lose you… They must die.”

Black whip wrapped around Shigaraki’s wrist, giving a sharp yank and the phone crashing into the ground. Shigaraki looked up with an annoyed look, Izuku only staring coldly. “Well… That was rude Zero.”

Hopefully, I destroyed it before the message was sent. But if not… I’m taking puppy with me, far where no one can find us. Izuku thought, already planning. Immediately moving when Dabi jumped to Izuku, black whip hitting Dabi back into the wall and hearing some of the wall crack. The pyromaniac growled in annoyance, getting up and gritting his teeth.

“It’s time for you to come back, you’ve been playing hero for far too long.” Shigaraki said, crossing his arms. Izuku cracked his neck, ready to kill both of them if they even moved to the bedroom door to leave. No… I don’t… I don’t want to stop feeling things… I don’t have these feelings anywhere else, no fuzz or enjoyment. It’s only when I’m around them… I’ve grown addicted to that feeling, so why would I want to leave?

“Look Shigaraki, if it was anyone else. You and I both know that I would have killed anyone myself, we wouldn’t be here now.” Izuku explained, green lightning seeming to crackle around his hands. “Back to that stupid bitch… they’re beginning to become of a nuisance since that Bakugou kid escaped. I want them dead, I want them to die.”

“I won’t let you do that.”

“What was that?” Shigaraki asked, not liking this defiance. His eyes narrowed, fingers itching to dust Izuku. Even if it was going to go against his master’s wishes. “I won’t let you or anyone else touch a hair on them.”

“Do you want to die with them?” Dabi asked, ready to burn Izuku to a crisp. But the green eyes sparkled mockingly, grinning coldly as he stared at Shigaraki. “Do you really think AFO would want his prized son to get hurt?”

Shigaraki’s fist clenched, annoyed jealousy bubbling in his chest. Though Shigaraki’s been there longer, Izuku quickly became the favorite because of the quirk he took from Allmight. “Zero… You’re pushing your luck-“

“Actually, I don’t think I am. You can’t touch me, AFO would kill ya! And well, I think I might play a hand on it… Because after all, you did make my puppy cry.”

“Don’t you dare hurt him!” You yelled, running to throw yourself in front of your classmate. Body shaking already from the attacks you’ve endured while trying to save the other students, Dabi only laughing at how pathetic you looked. “You really think you can protect him?”

He mocked you, making Izuku narrow his eyes behind you. Izuku couldn’t help the adoring feeling he felt of seeing you trying to protect him, oh how precious you were to him. “But look at you, pathetic. You’re already crying.”

Crying… you’re crying….? He thought, feeling that dark anger quickly overtake his senses. As he moved to look at your perfect face, he could see the crystal clear tears in his eyes and felt his eyes dull with murderous intent. You were exhausted, ready to collapse, but you couldn’t let your classmate get hurt. You always did put everyone else first… “I-i won’t… I wont let you hurt him!”

Poor little thing… This is why you need me. You can’t take care of yourself puppy. Izuku thought to himself, green lightning crackling around him. Succumbing to the bloodlust filled thoughts, aiming straight for Dabi.

Your eyes widened as you watched the villain went flying back, crashing through some of the trees. Izuku moved from his kicking position, lowering his foot and glaring at him with that dangerous aura that any of the LOV knew immediately.

Dabi coughed, moving from the broken trees and his eyes narrowed at seeing the red on his hands. Standing up and walking out from the broken trees, glaring at the double agent. He was confused to see why Izuku was staring at him like a hunting staring down prey, wondering why someone from the LOV looking like he was about kill another one of the league…

“Go ahead and take a breather puppy, I’ll take care of the rest. You’ve done well, I’m so proud of you.” Izuku said with a smile, his eyes closed so you didn’t see the murdering look in his eyes. Not wanting to traumatize his pretty little pet.

“I would destroy anything that would make them cry. Anyone.” Izuku responded, calm but dangerously. Such calmness pissed off Shigaraki, wondering why Izuku felt like he could just challenge his authority like it meant nothing.

There was a soft knock on the door, all three villains looking over at the door. Izuku’s eyes narrowed, he knew who that was. How could he not? He knew everything about his puppy. “Izu? You okay in there?”

Oh your voice… It was calming for him to hear, but he didn’t want to share you or have you exposed to any danger. It worried you, not hearing anything back from the cheerful classmate of yours. “Izu? I’m coming in…”

No! He thought, not wanting Shigaraki or Dabi to see you. His foot kicking Shigaraki through the portal as he looked at Dabi with narrowed eyes. The pyromaniac grinned, licking his lips in excitement as Izuku punched him. Arms wrapping around his neck as he hopped to the window as the door opened.

Your eyes widened when you saw a hauntingly familiar villain there. It was the same villain you had nightmares about… Ever since the training camp… But it worried you more when you saw Izuku’s familiar scarred arms around his throat. Panic stuck in your throat, ducking quickly to dodge the blue flames as Izuku threw both of them out of the window. “I-Izuku!! Aizawa! Aizawa!”

“Midoriya, it’s late. You should be in bed.” Aizawa said, on edge as he finally approached the scene. Izuku was standing above the still Dabi, blood dripping from his hands as he was looking at him emotionless. “Eraserhead.”

Izuku spoke, the teacher freezing at the way Izuku’s voice seemed dangerous. This was not the student that he had known, no this was someone much more dangerous and that made the pro hero wonder about everything. Wondering how much Allmight really knew about his student… “Do you want to explain what this is all about?”

Annnnd action. Izuku’s mask came back, tears in his eyes and turning his head to look at the pro hero. Sobbing and his hands shaking, putting on the oh so perfect act of the terrified student. “I-I-i was just f-fighting… and-and-“

“Midoriya. Midoriya, breathe.” Aizawa said while grabbing the student’s shoulder, Izuku forcing his body to shake as his bloody hands were covering his mouth as if he was trying to silent his sobs. “I- I’m not… I’m not a b-b-bad guy… am-am I? I-I didn’t m-m-mean to…”

He lied smoothly, tears streaking over his cheeks and hands. Aizawa sighed, looking at the dead villain and pulling his student away from the scene. “Look, it’s not your fault Midoriya, just explain what happened.”

“I-I- I was studying… and-and then next thing I know… he-he appeared in my room! He-he wanted revenge from the tr-training ca-ca-camp.” He hiccuped, Aizawa staring at Izuku while they were walking back to the dorms. The pro hero didn’t believe him, not at the way the air felt around Izuku when he first found him… Something just didn’t add up.

“Izu!” You exclaimed, getting up from the couch when you noticed the pro hero coming back in with your classmate. You had been sitting anxiously, worried about him since you’ve seen him jump out the window with a villain.

He hummed when he felt you hug him. Pretending to be a scared student definitely had its perks if it meant that you hold him so sweetly. “Is-is this blood?”

You asked, terrified that he’s hurt. And just like that, those crocodiles tears came back. Causing your sweet touch on his cheeks as you apologized for making him cry, just letting Izuku cling onto you.

I won’t let you live Shigaraki if you do something to them, I’ll take over the LOV if I have to.

[adxmparriish]

everything he needs - read on ao3 track 3 of DEDICATED - a jurdannet roulette collab fic with @hazelsheartsworn @figonas @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @laequiem

SIDE A: TRACK ONE -> TRACK TWO -> TRACK FOUR -> TRACK FIVE SIDE B: TRACK ONE -> TRACK TWO -> TRACK THREE MASTERLIST

writer: lizziebxnnet words: 3.2k rating: explicit -> dom/sub undertones, light bondage, orgasm denial, overstimulation, cock ring

Instead of Faerie bowing to us both, I bow to her. I’m all too willing to oblige. All the anxiety I felt earlier, the rapid beating of my heart I so hated, is replaced by something else. Want, need, pleasure, pain… I am nothing but Jude’s. There is no more room in me for anything else. “Let’s play,” she says. Yes, my evil seductress, let’s play. I am your pawn.

tags and fic under the cut

I am edgy.

Anxiety rolls around inside me, a living monster with claws and fangs crawling beneath my skin.

It’s no secret that most days being High King brings me little joy. I’d much rather laze about, drink wine, kiss Jude until I’m senseless, or simply be. The duties, while not always unbearable, drive me over the edge more often than I’d like to admit.

As the moon rises and filters silver light into our chambers, I glance over to our bed. Jude, beautiful as ever, is draped over the sheets looking at me. There’s a glint in her deep brown eyes that scares and arouses me. Her grin is mischief reincarnated, and I stare back at her with intent. Adjusting the crown on my temples, I turn to face her completely.

“I think I’d rather be on the other end of your knife than deal with any of this,” I say.

“I’m inclined to agree,” she replies, flopping over to lay on her back. She still wears her silk nightgown, some flimsy black thing she purchased at the sex shop. The straps are barely there, and a low neckline leaves little to the imagination. It hardly covers the mocha skin of her thighs, although I can hardly complain. “How would you feel about… a little game?”

I raise a brow. “Should I be worried?”

“Of course not,” she says with a wink, rising from the bed and moving to the dresser. It does nothing to calm my anxieties.

She opens the first drawer, rifles through it, and then pulls out one of our new toys. In her other hand, she holds a remote. The skin of my face grows warm. She pads over and shows me what she has.

It’s a cock ring, but there’s a small attachment on the side of it. She flips a switch on it, then presses a button on the small black remote. Immediately, buzzing reaches my ears and the ring begins to vibrate. I reach out to touch it, feeling the vibrations under my fingertips. Jude looks up and when we meet gazes, I can feel her excitement thrumming through her.

The ravenous beast under my skin loosens its grip, and I find want growing in its place. Wanting her, wanting this, wanting to try something new. To be under Jude’s control would be the most wonderful of changes — a much-needed release from duties and being High King. I want to just be hers, to be Jude’s husband, her plaything. I smile at her, my beautifully wicked wife, and surrender to her.

Not bothering to wait for a second longer, she pops the buttons of my pants and yanks them down. I’m half hard already, the mere thought of what this day will bring exciting me. She sits our new toy on the floor beside her as she kneels in front of me. She scoots closer, then looks up to meet my eyes. I stare at her, transfixed by her beauty. Chestnut hair, long and lush, falls down past her shoulders. Her legs, so strong and powerful and covered in soft, tan skin, fold underneath her. Her hands, callused and sneaky, reach out and grip my cock. My breath hitches in my throat.

She strokes me lightly, teasing. I close my eyes and my head falls back, exposing my neck. When I feel the warm heat of her mouth on me, I gasp her name. Her plush lips swallow me down, her tongue tracing the line of a vein that runs down the shaft. I reach out to touch her, to twist her hair between my fingers, but she swats my hand away. She’s such a treacherous, wicked thing.

I feel a fire begin to burn in my belly, my release within reach, but as if she can read my mind, she stops. She pulls off with a pop, and I open my eyes to look down at her. She has the toy in one hand, my cock in the other. She strokes me a few times, then slides it over me, securing it at the base. The pressure is slight but still intense. She licks the tip, collecting a bit of come that has collected there. Damn the meetings, I think. Nothing is more important than this.

She presses a button on the remote, and I see white. The vibrations rattle through me, making me groan. Pleasure ripples in my blood, and then as soon as it begins, it stops. I don’t know if I’m relieved or aggravated. I glare at Jude, but she seems emotionless. I know better, though. I know she’s relishing in the game of her own creation.

She’s switched masks. She’s the same Jude, the same woman I love so dearly, but she is a different version. She’s always High Queen, but now she’s mine, and I am hers. Instead of Faerie bowing to us both, I bow to her. I’m all too willing to oblige. All the anxiety I felt earlier, the rapid beating of my heart I so hated, is replaced by something else. Want, need, pleasure, pain… I am nothing but Jude’s. There is no more room in me for anything else.

“Let’s play,” she says.

Yes, my evil seductress, let’s play. I am your pawn.

* * *

Sweat collects on my brow, and when the vibrations finally stop, I fear I might come purely from relief alone.

I look to Jude sitting beside me and notice the smallest of smiles playing at her lips. The Living Council is either clueless or pretending to be, and I’m not sure which is more ridiculous. I can feel the redness on my skin, and hear the panting breaths leaving my mouth. For more than an hour, I’ve sat in front of all of them and been brought to the brink of ecstasy more times than I can remember, only to be denied over and over again. I feel deranged, manic, unhinged. I want to come so badly that it is all I can think of. My hand longs to grab myself and rip off the wretched ring, but I don’t. I sit. I obey.

I know that, late into the night when Jude and I are in our chambers, I will be rewarded. It’s the only thing that keeps me grounded.

“I don’t think it’s wise to trifle with the Court of Teeth,” someone says, and I should know the voice but I don’t.

“High King? What do you suggest?” someone else questions me, and I turn my head to the sound.

As fleeting as a strike of lightning, the vibrations start again. I grip the table, knuckles going white, as sensations rock through me. My eyes are open but unseeing. I can hear nothing but blood rushing in my ears, the pounding of my pulse. I shiver as everything aches, my cock almost sore from being denied for so long. I think someone says my name, but I can’t respond. My normally sharp tongue denies me.

“Are you alright, darling?” Jude asks from next to me, her hand laying on my forearm, and I almost come undone. The mere touch of her fingers against my skin causes a cascade of feelings, all of which crash into me roughly.

The buzzing stops and I deflate, my breathing ragged and slow.

“I fear I am not, my Queen.” I look up and the entire table stares with looks of concern on their faces. My already warm face flushes darker, embarrassment flooding to the surface.

“Excuse us,” Jude says, gripping my arm and pulling me upright. “Cardan needs to lie down and rest.”

I can hear people bidding us farewell but I don’t look at them, don’t even acknowledge that they spoke. I am led forward by Jude’s firm grip and sure steps. All I know is her and my own desire that swims through my veins. We walk for what feels like hours but I’m sure is only minutes, and then we reach our chambers. When we’re inside, Jude makes quick work of my clothes, stripping me carefully. When my pants are off and thrown to the side, I look down.

My cock is bright red, almost angry. Jude’s hand grasps it and I choke on a moan, my hips bucking in her grip. She looks up at me in wonder.

“So good,” she says, stroking me twice before letting go. “My beautiful, obeying husband.”

I ache at her praise. She leads me to the bed and I fall on my back. Jude begins stripping her own clothes, but when she pulls off the belt holding up her trousers, she tosses it on the bed next to me. She climbs on, pushing my arms up to the headboard. Involuntarily, my hands grab the wooden bars.

Jude straddles me, her body completely naked now, and bends forward. If I tilt my head forward just a bit, I could capture a nipple in between my teeth. I don’t, though. In this game, I don’t touch unless Jude instructs me to do so.

“Remember our colors?” she asks, and I nod. It’d been the first thing we established when we uncovered this new world, this new game. Green for go, red for stop, yellow for let’s slow it down.

She takes the belt and wraps it around my hands, then the bars of the headboard, before fastening it and pulling it taut. I pull and nothing budges. Our eyes meet and the glimmer in hers captures me in a trance. She leans down and kisses me.

Her tongue traces my lip and I open to her immediately, letting her consume me. When she takes my bottom lip between her teeth, pulling gently, I melt into her touch. Her hands are in my hair, fingers tracing the sharp point of my ears. My tail thrashes, then wraps around her leg. The tuft on the end strokes her inner thigh, right below her core, and she gasps into my mouth. I breathe it in, bathe in it.

I cry out as the swell of her ass brushes against my cock, and it twitches, aching for release. Immediately she sits up, pulling away and denying me.

“Jude,” I beg, pulling at the belt that holds my wrists.

“What?”

“Take this damned ring off,” I demand. Her brows raise, and I know at once I’ve made a grave mistake.

Her strong, threatening hand grabs my throat and squeezes, just hard enough to catch my breath. My eyes widen, my arousal grows even more, and my hips undulate. I fight for some kind of release, some relief of the pressure and pain growing, and find nothing. The lack of oxygen makes my head spin, but I force my eyes to stay open.

Jude leans down, her lips brushing against my ear. “You, my dearest Cardan, are not in charge.”

She eases on my throat, releasing me. She traces the line of my jaw with her fingernail, slowly and carefully. I can’t tear my gaze away from her, not that I would want to. In her element, she is ethereal. I shrink under the power she holds in the palm of her hands.

“You want to come?” she asks. It feels like a trick question, but I nod regardless. She shakes her head, disapproving.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, my Queen,” I say.

“That,” she declares, “is too bad.”

Despite her words to me, she turns and reaches down, removing the ring. I groan at the small release. She shimmies back so her sex looms over me, and I lick my lips. She is dripping, heat radiating from it. Any other time, I’d lean forward and taste her, my tongue dipping between the folds. Instead, I wait, my cock practically pulsing as it aches between my legs.

The warmth of her mouth engulfs me and I groan, her name a curse on my tongue. My hands yank at the belt holding them, the leather digging into my skin. I feel crazed, so much pleasure and pain swimming together and making me drown. I can’t focus on anything except her mouth, her tongue, the slick of her core tantalizing as it hovers over my face.

She hums as one hand roams, pinching the skin of my thigh, and tears prick at my eyes. A shock runs through my system and it takes everything I have not to release into her mouth. I am dizzy with desire.

“Baby,” Jude murmurs against my cock, her tongue licking a long stripe, “taste me.”

Like a starving man at a feast, I don’t waste a single second.

I lick at her, tasting every sweet inch of her. It distracts me from the wicked ways of her mouth in the most pleasing way. She moans at my ministrations, her hips bucking when I catch her clit between my teeth lightly. I devour her, unable to satisfy the hunger growing inside me. She is a long drink of water after a hot day, and I am parched.

Every inch of me burns for her, and I feel my orgasm building in my spine again. I moan into her center as it climbs, higher and faster and stronger.

“Jude,” I plead, “I’m going to come.”

Her wet mouth moves away from me, and my eyes sting as I’m denied again, my climax crashing to a halt. Every part of me hurts, longing to release. I feel like a bow, stretched taut and thin. Tears leak from my eyes and through the mist, I can see Jude’s face hovering over me. I blink the wetness away, and her hands brush the tears from my cheeks.

“You’re doing so well,�� she murmurs, kissing my face. I almost forget about my throbbing cock through the haze of her words, but it’s still there.

Jude places her hands on my chest and then lowers herself, her sex wrapping around me as she moves down. I whimper at the feel of her, so warm and tight and lovely. Her mouth hangs open at the sensation, and her eyelids flutter closed. Again, I am struck by her beauty. She is radiant as sweat curls the hair by her face, drips down her neck, and pools in the swell of her breasts. I long to reach up, to cup one in my palms, but the damned belt still holds my wrists. She opens her eyes when she’s fully seated.

She wastes no time. She bounces in earnest, taking me under her power even more than I already am. I buck my hips to meet hers. The sound of our skin slaps together, and it makes the sweetest song. She leans forward, changing the angle so I go deeper, and my eyes roll in the back of my head. Pleasure like I’ve never known rolls through me like a wave, and I make an embarrassing noise in the back of my throat. My mind is nothing but Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude. It recants through my brain like an enchantment.

“Jude please — “ I begin, but a moan cuts me off when she rolls her hips.

“Not yet,” she replies to me, already knowing my request. I slam my head back against the bed, jerking my wrists against the belt tying me down. I want to come so badly it blinds me, makes me crazy. I whine and Jude looks at me.

“Color, Cardan.”

“Green,” I say immediately, sure as ever. She denies me but I relish it. I will come with her permission or not at all.

She smiles at me, and I glow under her approval. I am nothing if not her servant.

“Harder,” she commands.

I plant my feet against the mattress and bend my hips, pounding into Jude with reckless abandon. She forgets herself, crying out and gripping my ribs. Her nails dig into my skin. She closes her eyes as I meet her, over and over, the slapping of our skin ringing through our room, although I can hardly hear it over the pounding of my heart.

“Cardan,” she shouts, throwing her head back, “Gods, you feel so good.”

“Fuck,” I chant, slowing down and fucking her slower, deeper, hammering into her so hard that it jolts her.

Finally, a sweet release comes as she fiddles with the belt, untying my hands. I immediately have one hand on her hip, the other at her clit. My thumb circles and flicks it, making her groan loudly. Her hips falter as her own release threatens to overcome her. If I can’t come, I’ll be sure she does.

I can tell she’s close. Her breaths are short, her eyes are closed, and her legs shake. I grip her hips and flip us over. I pull her close, letting her legs dangle over my shoulders, and take her roughly. I pick up the pace, grab her by the back of the neck and kiss her hungrily. It’s clashing tongues and teeth, but it drives me wild regardless. Her warm breaths tickle my lips as she pants, completely overwhelmed. I circle her clit with two fingers, and a throaty sound rips from her throat.

“Come for me Cardan,” she demands, meeting my thrusts with her own.

In an instant, my body responds to her command, and like a wave crashing on the shore, I come. My vision goes black, then I see stars. It’s blissful pain as it rocks through me and leaves me breathless, every inch of me completely spent. Jude, delirious all the same, follows me. Her hands grip my back, nails digging into my skin as she unravels. We moan into each other’s mouths, kissing until we’re dizzy with it. I fuck her through the aftershocks of our orgasms, then collapse against her.

I clutch her, desperate for her closeness. She returns the grip, pulling me into her chest. I nose her neck, leaving wet kisses down her pulse. She hums happily as I cradle her in my arms. She rubs my back gently, and when I roll us so my back hits the mattress, she lays her head on my chest.

When I push her damp hair from her forehead, she grabs my wrist. It’s red, lines from the belt creasing the skin. She kisses it, then grabs my other wrist and does the same. My heart, so often cold and hard, is warm. I touch her face, my thumb brushing the soft skin of her cheek. She smiles at me, and I can’t help but smile back.

“Your games are evil,” I say to her, making her smile wider. “Although I should have known. You’ve never been an innocent one.”

She laughs. “Neither have you.”

“I cannot argue with that.”

My fingers play in her hair, brush against her skin, and trace the round curve of her ear. Moonlight filters through our curtains and casts shadows across her face. We are both exhausted but I kiss her anyway, slow and sweet. She melts into it, wrapping her arms around my neck.

I love her, devastatingly so. Not telling her seems criminal.

“I love you, darling Jude.”

Her lips meet my jaw, and she kisses me there.

“I love you too,” she says.

As always, I wonder how I got so lucky to win her affections. When her fingers graze my neck, touching my pulse point, I realize for the first time, I don’t much care how we got here. What truly matters is that we are in this moment, basking in the love we’ve built. Whether I’m lucky or blessed, or somewhere in the middle — all of it fades to black in the warmth of Jude’s embrace.

.

.

.

.

.

@slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @figonas @laequiem @hazelsheartsworn @jurdannet @jurdannetrevels @thefolkofthefic @kingandfireheart

[imagineabrighterworld]

Shigaraki with an Enforcer S/O

Shigaraki didn't know you were at the meeting until you appeared behind him

Shigaraki needed more men after the failure at the U.S.J. It did bring the League into light, but without the criminals in his arsenal as most were taken into custody or deemed useless, he knew he had to start searching for a new crew. This led him to Corellia, an area full of thieves, black market traders, and mercenaries for hire. You were the enforcer of the biggest mafia in the area, and you made sure he knew that.

Crossing the alleged “safe zone” of Corellia and heading into the Black Light District, Shigaraki motions to the nomu’s on each side of him to take the lead. Kurogiri and another sleeker nomu would take spot behind him. While he was capable of protecting himself, he was taking no chances. He was his greatest pawn in this game, to lose himself and be captured would be detrimental to his whole system.

Moving further into the district, he notes the amounts of bordered up shops and graffiti covered walls, but this all changes when he reaches the center of the district. From there the shops are all open and bustling with customers, the scenery was not the same bleak grey and black concrete walls. It was lively and without the normal trash that coagulated on the streets. What made this area different than that of the one fifteen feet away?

With little else to do than gawk at the juxtaposition, Shigaraki heads down the alleyways of Corellia and enters the underbelly where the black market resided. It was at a shop that he found the leader of the Black Teeth, a gang notorious for drug manufacturing. They dealt with quirk enhancement and blockages, something Shigaraki took interest in after the nomu came to being. His best nomu was beaten by All Might, which meant he would need more than what his scientists were capable of in order to strengthen them.

The boss of the crew was lounging in his chair, the third eye on his forehead closed while his striking white eyes were staring directly at the nomu accompanying Shigaraki.

The man grins. “Their construction is magnificent. Who did you get your hands on to make these?” He sits up, elbows resting on his knees as he scans them up and down.

Shigaraki scoffs. “That is need to know information, and you do not need to know it.”

“Aye, it was a simple question.” The man leans back, his joking demeanor melting into something more serious. “So, Shigaraki Tomura. What can I do for you?”

Shigaraki takes a seat across from the man, knowing he was safe with his posse of nomu. “I need your numbers. You have men to spare. I require them.”

The man hissed through his teeth, an amused glint in his eyes. “You want my men. Mi amigo, are you sure you know what you're asking for?”

While Shigaraki didn't know what was said, he knew for certain what he wanted. What he needed. He wouldn't let the U.S.J. failure happen again. “I am more than certain.”

“Muy bien. I'll give you one of my crew. You'll find they're all you need. Incredibly loyal that one.”

“Only one?” Shigaraki grits his teeth. “Is that a joke?”

A hand lands itself on Shigaraki’s shoulder, causing him to jump slightly in his seat, already reaching to turn them into dust.

A barrier keeps him from touching you, the air seemingly hardening and turning golden at the force of his touch.

You give him a small smirk. “Hey jefe.”

You were either very smart, or incredibly dumb

You didn't bargain for power, or for riches, two things the League could most definitely provide. He found this strange, as everyone wanted something. No one ever gave anything for free. And with your skills, you could ask for anything in return, so why didn't you?

After finalizing a contract with your boss about new arrangements, you leave Corellia with the small group of League affiliates. Still, Shigaraki couldn't understand you, and it was bugging him to no end.

He slowed his pace until he was beside you, his hands clenched into fists as he remembers how you blocked him from using his quirk. “Why are you joining us?”

You examine the face of your new employer, or more of examine the hand covering his face. Your own face was scarred after battles and fights with the police and other gangs. Your body was covered in burns, stab wounds, and gunshots. You've been through the wringer yet still worked in the mafia with gusto. What fueled you? What led you to wanting to aid the league?

“Heroes and villains are white and black. I prefer grey.” You crack your fingers, watching the bones as they pop and settle back into place, relishing in the relief. “Your fighting will bring to light how corrupt some heroes are. It will usher in a better era. If the people work hard enough to make it.”

“You sound like a damn hero.”

“It's all about perspective mi amigo.”

You managed to enter his own little mafia after that display of your skills

There was no denying you had talent, he needed your abilities. You would make for a great asset to his newly forming team.

Two weeks into joining the league, you’ve already proven your worth. With your barrier quirk that could accumulate damage and send it right back at the attacker, you were a perfect tank in his array of assets.

In a meeting gone astray, you defended your new boss and led him to a safe zone away from the villains that wanted to usurp him as the new leader of the League.

At least, you believed it was a safe spot.

“Shigaraki!” You scream at him, spotting a hero ready to pummel him into the ground with their hammer quirk. Rushing to his side, you push him out of the way and put up a hasty shield, grunting as the force drives you into the ground. Breaking the shield, you watch as the hero is thrown back twice as hard, their back hitting a steel pillar above them.

“Get them out of here!” Your new boss yells at Kurogiri as he decays one of the hero’s sidekicks, not batting an eye at the ash covering him from head to toe. He proceeds further into the warehouse in search of the villain that ratted them out to the Hero Agency, but you refused to let him go in alone.

Kurogiri’s smoke appears below you, but using your barrier as a foothold, you launch yourself in the air and run after Shigaraki. “Pendejo!” You shout out, hoping to catch the attention of the blue haired male. “Use your head!”

The lights cut out, and all you could do is focus on the senses you still had.

Maybe it wasn't your smartest idea, but you raise your voice again.

“Shigaraki!”

You run to what you assume is the center of the room but slip on what feels like piles of sand.

The lights turn on, and in the corner of the room you find Shigaraki with a gash just under his chin, nearly catching him on his jugular.

He huffs, the hand that was normally  covering his face no longer there, allowing you to see his annoyed yet soft expression. “I can handle myself too.”

An odd beat flutters in your chest.

“I know that idiota.”

You begin to grow on him /like a tumor/

He doesn't admit it, but after that incident, he begins to trust you more than he had before. You proved your loyalty, something he was inclined to ignore before. And you weren't afraid of his presence. The others in the league liked to have their own time away, they had separate goals and found the league as a place to enact them, but you didn't have that. So the fact that you stayed with him at the bar to just be there was quite nice.

You helped him with info gathering, and gathering in general

As his new enforcer with a knack of collecting data without being seen, you became extremely useful to him. And useful to the others as well.

“Oooh did you get the photos I asked for!” Toga chirps from her seat at the bar, spinning in a half circle as she watches you lift a heavy satchel and place it on the counter. The girl always had weird requests, but you caved in. She didn't ask for much anyway, not compared to what your old boss ordered you to do.

“Esperate chica, I have them.” You respond while pulling out a handful of polaroids. They were of several students of U.A., mostly of Izuku Midoriya, who you had yet to uncover why she was so obsessed with him. You pull your hand away just as she snatches them from your grip, remembering how she accidentally scratched you the last time you brought her photographs.

For Dabi you brought him information on Endeavor and his son, as you would see them occasionally on patrol. There wasn't much to tell, as the young boy didn't seem to like his father whatsoever. He rarely spoke, making him a poor source of info. But Dabi was sated either way.

“And what about for me?” Shigaraki hums from behind the counter, looking at you with carmine eyes. “You are my spider first and foremost. Don't forget it.”

With a grin from ear to ear, “I was thinking of you jefe.” You reach further into your satchel and pluck a collectable All Might action figure. “I thought you might like it.”

Needless to say, he decayed it right before storming off to his room.

But later that evening he opened his door to find a video game he had planned on buying.

With a small huff, he accepts the gift and returns to his nest.

You were his right hand alongside Kurogiri

Despite your rough beginning, you grew fond of your new boss. It was like having a friend, even if he could be somewhat of a man child, you learned how to deal with his moods. Which made Kurogiri’s life so much easier.

Shigaraki slams his hands on a table, turning it to dust. In fact, he was tossing everything out of his way, sending dust raining around the room. You stand at the door watching the sprays of ash like fireworks on New Year. It was always best to wait for his rage to ease before approaching him. This, you learned from Kurogiri.

But this time you needed him to calm down. You needed him to be a leader, not a temperamental child.

“Shigaraki.” You stand behind him, arms at your sides.

“How is it that he still gets all of the attention?! How, even after he retires, do we keep failing! One after another, our plans are turning into dust!” He slams a hand on another table, sending it crumbling to the ground.

“Shigaraki.” You repeat in a stern tone.

“What?!” His attention snaps to you, eyes crazed and bloodshot with rage.

“To win a battle is not to win a war.” You state calmly, keeping eye contact with the enraged leader. “Look at the bigger picture, and you will get the advantage you need.”

Something flickers in his eyes, giving you the shot of confidence you need in order to place a hand on his shoulder. He flinches at the contact but doesn't move from you.

“I believe in you cariño.”

He was incredibly antsy when Chisaki wanted you to join the yakuza, so you stepped up and said yes for him

Without knowing it, you had begun caring for the members of the League, something you weren't prepared for when you joined. At first it was just a side gig, a favor to your leader to work with the League. But now it wasn't just for your old boss or for the late Magne, it was for Shigaraki. You were doing this for him. Why? You didn't know. But you were caving for him.

“I’ll go.” You say from your spot beside him at the arm of  the sofa. You were used to meetings like this. The yakuza wasn't much different from the mafia, they were like twins. That's how you knew it was better to give in than to argue anymore on the terms. Anymore nitpicking and the meeting would turn into a bloodbath mixed with ash.

Shigaraki doesn't look at you, and for that you were glad. To show weakness in front of these people would only give them a bigger advantage. Did Shigaraki like you? You didn't know. But neither did the Yakuza.

“Your underling has more sense than you do.” Chisaki croons from his spot across from Shigaraki. “They know when it's better to just back down. I like that.”

Shigaraki clenches his fist.

Chisaki looks you over, nodding once to himself before waving dismissively. “You'll need a mask if you are going to be here. I don't need you contaminating the air with your germs.”

You feel your eye twitch, but you give no more than a nod as you walk out of the room, bidding Shigaraki goodbye with a single look.

The next time you see him is the day you realize just how much you missed him

Bloody and sore from fighting with the yakuza underbosses in order to get out, you were happy to regroup with Toga and Twice. You were split up from them during your stint as a yakuza, you assumed it was because you were seen as a tier higher than them. Chisaki was smart enough not to let you plan with them behind his back, but he wasn't smart enough to realize the plans were already made even before the fated meeting. 

“Shiggy!” Toga squeals from the back of the van as you all cruise on the empty highway with Chisaki strapped to the gurney. “I missed you guys so much! It was kinda fun being a yakuza! But they were so rude to us, weren't they Twice?”

“Yeah! They were dicks- The nicest people ever goddamnit! EW!”

You laugh at the two behind you, listening to them talk with Dabi, Spinner, and Mr. Compress about their little ‘vacation’.

“You're bleeding.”

Shigaraki’s voice drags you out of your thoughts. 

“Hm?”

“You're bleeding.” He repeats in the same monotone voice.

Looking at your injuries you shrug and lay back deeper into the seat cushions. “I’m home, that's all that matters.”

Your leader huffs.

“I missed you cariño.”

“...”

You smile.

“Welcome back.” 

[nothisis-ridiculous]

Take Me Home Now: Chapter Three

Chapter Three: I Hear Her Voice in the Mornin' Hour

Set after the events of ME3.

A rewrite. Ao3.

FemShepxKaidan

Shepard," the cold voice greeted her, the mechanic gravel unneeding of the visive tone, "or is it the fragment of your former self?"

Jane's head craned slowly, letting her eyes rake over the colossal figure of the derelict Reaper that sat before her. Should she be trembling? Why was she trembling?

"Brave words, for a dead roach," she murmured, wavering in her conviction.

"Your victory accomplished our end goal; your struggle was in vain."

Jane looked away from the synthetic, training her vision on the open sky above her. Lifting a hand above her face to shield it from the afternoon sun. The Citadel was a stark presence in the sky. It was a thing of awe. Now it was a wreck. While four of the arms remained, it wasn't without severe damage to the remaining limbs. The bright center of civilization flickered, struggling to sustain itself after the attacks that likely left millions dead. With the detonation she caused.

"Was the price to defeat your salvation truly worth it? You may think your species achieved enlightenment, but will it last to see those vain promises through?" The Reaper grew louder, a hint of yellow reflecting across the glass-like surface of the optic lenses, "In your hubris, you have destroyed everything that kept your species together! Witness the Citadel! How many died for nothing? How many more will die from starvation? Disease? Eachother? Will you watch your peace crumble?"

Trying to block out the voice, she focused on the rations half-eaten in front of her. Another task she no longer took pleasure from, another waste. Feeling this heaviness was quickly becoming unbearable; she was a beacon for passion and fire. A goddamned, fucking hero. One with a will that ignited others, not a tired soldier that snuck away to avoid eating a full meal. Not someone questioning why they remained. The goddamned bit was right, at least, there was no luck here. Just beating after beating.

She was so alone.

Where were her friends? How long would she have to wait? After all they had been through, wouldn't they at least attempt to find her? She wasn't far from where she had made them leave her behind. Already, she had been back to the beacon several times over the fortnight since the LT had conscripted her into this ragtag community.

She needed the Normandy crew. Her mind whispered horrible things. Taunted and dogged her in each agonizing moment of calm. All she held was death, screaming, the weight of all the choices she made. Her soft place was nowhere to be found.

"This legacy you attempted will end in the spoiling of your name. Villanhood only matched by the word 'Reaper,'" The machine was rarely silent long, it was content to keep speaking filling the silence that Jane left, "a Shepard only heralding death and destruction, because your weakness was what you thought strength. Overconfidence always leads to downfall."

In a simmer of sudden rage, Jane gathered energy into herself, merging the familiar burn and tingle of dark matter and letting it stir just beneath the surface of her skin, pleasure, fury, and a twinge of pain. Just the way it should be. It released in a single burst.

"Pathetic."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The Recruit caught herself before she toppled ass over tea kettle, fists grinding into the ground before her to stabilize. Her signature move from cocky grin to a deadened expression had yet to sit right with him, but as he was learning about his woman, forcing an issue wasn't going to move it aside any quicker. Reflexively adverting his gaze to allow her pride the room to readjust and soothe her attitude. Most in his company did not understand his patience with the newest recruit, but they couldn't empathize with the bittersweet familiarity it welled up inside his heart.

With any luck, he could one day reiterate to his son how proud he was of him.

"LT," the woman chirped, a hint of a smile crawling up the side of her mouth.

"Recruit," the old man was looser with his smile. With an admonishing raise of an eyebrow, he drew a finger across her philtrum, "I see you've met our lawn gnome. Still haven't named him yet."

Jane's eyes rolled and a smile she could not fight spread across her features, "Harbinger," but the utterance came out with surprising severity.

"I'd have gone with Harold, Pookie even," he mumbled, dragging a handkerchief across the underside of her nose.

Just as quickly the moment was gone, she pulled away from him. A token of gratitude left in the form of a gentle smile, "did you come out here to bother me, or did you need something?"

This was the prickly personality he didn't care for as fondly. Requiring a brief moment to placate a moment of hasty rebuke, his gaze moved to the half-empty can and the lid that lay a few meters downwind—twice ignoring the blood that peppered the ground beneath her seat. Perhaps he didn't have the patience to baby another mouthy soldier, and she seemed content to throw herself away. But in the same vein, he had regretted doing that years ago with his own child. Sure, this woman was a stranger, but she belonged to someone that worried about her. His innate integrity could hold him out a bit longer.

"You know, we don't have enough supplies to be wasting it," Roy found something to vent the heat building inside.

Jane's bright blue eyes that reflected the setting sun snapped to the can, a wince revealing the words did strike something, "you eat it then. I've been watching you pawn off your rations."

He accepted the can, plopping a hearty portion into his mouth, "still tastes like shit."

"I could really go for some steak fries and chutney," Jane mused gently.

"I'm thinking I could make that happen."

The woman's full attention turned to him, the fine fuzz of her returning eyebrows raised at him.

"Give or take a few weeks."

"I'm assuming you have a plan?"

"Yeah," the man paused, testing out the recruit, the hold on her patience proving to outlast him for the first time, "I'm hoping to test out your skills. And you need to start earning your keep."

"Ready and willing, sir!" She snapped to attention, a foreign energy oozing from her at this moment. Not that he doubted her willingness to come along, he was just surprised to see her motivated to do something.

"Hold your horses, Recruit. You may not be so excited when you find out what we are doing," not that he had much doubt about her grit, "it should be a standard supply run. With a large Krogan exception."

"Krogan, sir?"

He nodded, "before this mess all started, I had a small orchard; I knew a guy from London that shared the hobby. He was more into plants in general, but anyway, I couldn't recall his exact address but knew about the general area his warehouse was located. It should be a rapidly growing, resistant crop. The problem is the Krogan found it first."

"Are we trying diplomacy or just rushing in?"

"I want to try the former, the ladder only if things go south. Some big wig Clan Urgnut-"

"Urdnot."

Roy cleared his throat, that did sound right, "Urdnot was holed up there. Smart move on their part. But they don't have a protected area with access to sufficient sunlight to grow anything, and more importantly...hopefully, they aren't likely to know how to grow the crop."

"You're hoping to grow it within the atrium?" it seemed the recruit was astute enough to guess at the plan without it needing to be spelled out, "trading access for food and maybe protection?"

"If we are lucky."

He had already began to act hopefully, ordering the healthy refugees under guard to start collecting and tagging soil for growing crops. They had some luck, even if it meant desecrating the dead's gardens. The corporate offices he felt less guilty about robbing them of soil.

Finding power had been an easier ordeal; military generators were easily plugged into the grid to power the essentials like heat and some lighting. Water filters were easily found, and London's preference toward rain lent them an easy water source. They weren't foolish enough to rely on a regular storm pattern and already had begun to build a reserve of water. Communication was an entirely separate issue- they needed to find an engineer and fast. Or rely on another splinter group to fulfill that gap. On the subject of protection, he didn't want to let on how direly he needed the talks to go peacefully. Once word got around that they could produce food, the untold number of refugees and nefarious forces pounding on their doors would create unfathomable problems.

But all this conjecture was counting chickens before the eggs hatched.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Jane kept her assignment besides the Lieutenant with minimal complaint. They couldn't know that keeping watching along occupied territory was old news to her. While she was used to point, settling into the left flank was quickly done.

It was nice not being the center of attention, without the burden of anyone looking to her for guidance. Without the worry of making a wrong call, she could let down some of the instinctual guard associated with the position of leader. Luckily a hard call wasn't required for this part of the journey, the few-kilometer trip went by without incident.

"LT," she pressed once the first evidence of a perimeter came into view, "have you ever met a Krogan before?"

The male on her right smirked, rolling his eyes. Roy stopped, pulling a deep breath. Some of his stoic calm wearing at the edges. Jane knew this wasn't because of her, she had yet to do anything that would constitute annoying the man. He was nervous.

"No, but how different can they be?"

The man chuckled, "I heard they're almost mindless brutes."

Jane threw him a sharp glare, "they're the rough and tumble type, but not mindless. I'd suggest reminding him of home."

She could guarantee cooperation if Shepard wanted to come out. Shepard liked to remain locked away anymore.

While the man to her right heavily rolled his eyes, Roy seemed to take it under consideration. His gaze flickered back to the path before them, hesitation now more detectable in his manner.

"Maybe you-"

Roy's voice stopped with the interruptions of Jane's pistols suddenly unfurling to full length.

"Don't stop," a gruff Krogan voice called, "I'm looking for a fight."

A second voice was a little more reasonable, "what is your business? This is Krogan territory."

"Human territory," the man retorted with surprising gusto, "you overfeed iguana."

For his bravery, the man collided with the road the third but silent Krogan finding the insult not to his liking. The first Krogan spurred on by his comrade shoved Roy aside, the older man spun without resistance to the ground, "humans are so soft."

Jane was purely lucky that the more tolerable Krogan was nearest to her. It didn't make her less angry. Yes, pushing over the douche of a specimen was permitted but bringing the old man into it? She expected better of Clan Urdnot. Pissed off, the female stormed for the offending Krogan.

Now, she wasn't foolish enough to go in guns blazing, but she knew a better way to deal with the offending reptile. According to Zaeed the spot she had to hit corresponded with a weak spot on the species' frontal plate. If she had a knife and the gall to do so, she could rip that piece off and cause the Krogan to panic. But on the less violent and more in line with the peacekeeping mission she had a superior move: simple, elegant, and a returning item on her personal bucket list.

Headbutting another Krogan.

In retaliation, he glowed blue.

It never came to fruition as the reasonable member stepped between them, "you have offended her krant. Let it go." But his smirk didn't go unnoticed, "what do you want?"

"We're here to speak with Wrex."

The Krogan chuckled, "you have an impressive quad. But I don't think the clan leader is interested in what you have to say."

"You really want to test that? Would we really be here if wasn't important," Shepard's fire returned, "what other reason would we have to seek out the Krogan?  Certainly not for the fight." She motioned toward the two with her.

The Krogan gave an exasperated sigh, "fine, but only one of you. The other two wait."

Jane pivoted and proffered an open hand to the LT, "this is your ball game, sir. Do us proud."

[creator-zee]

216

      I fought to stop tears from streaming down my face as I sat on my bunk. How did everything go so wrong so quickly? I took a deep breath and got to work. I was leaving. I needed to pack. I don’t have much, but I showed my weapons in my bass and my spare change of clothes, fore buckling it shut and and sliding it under the bed. I would grab it after confirming it with the officer that I was leaving.

       I opened my door and startled slightly at the sight of Jaz. 

        “What? What are you doing here?” I asked.

        “I came to see you.” She said. “I’ve been worried. I know we haven’t been deployed at all, but I haven’t seen you around.”

         The concern in her face was genuine, and my chest twisted under her gaze. I dropped her gaze.

          “I’m fine, I’ve just been busy.” I muttered as an excuse. Some excuse, I was busy avoiding her because I knew this couldn’t continue.

          She continued looking at me. “You’re not fine, are you?”

          “I’m fine.” I lied, painfully aware that I was barely keeping my voice level.

          I waited her to move out of the way, but she didn’t, continuing to look at me and then over my shoulder, despite my attempts to take up most of the doorway she was taller.

          “Are you, are you leaving?” She asked quietly.

           I couldn’t look at her. I looked away firmly, staring to the right.

           “Yes.” I admitted. “I’m being transferred to another ship.”

          “Why?” She asked, shocked. “Why would the officer transfer you? Why didn’t you tell us? And why won’t you look at me?”

           “I -“ My voice broke, as I failed to keep it level. “What’s done is done. I’m being transferred and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

           “You’re our best ground fighter, why would they transfer you?” She demanded, stepping forwards slightly, and voice rising slightly.

          “I need to go talk to the officer.” I said, dodging the question.

           “He can wait until you answer my question.” She said firmly, placing a hand on each side of the doorframe, effectively trapping me in my room.

           “Because I asked for it.” I said. It was better she hate me, better to get a clean separation.

           “You... what?” She asked, shocked, her arms falling limp at her sides. 

        “I asked to be transferred, alright.” I said, trying to stop my voice from shaking too much... it didn’t work. 

        “Why?” She asked, sounding broken.

         My hand dropped to my wrist and began twisting my bracelet. “Don’t worry about the why. It’s just - it’s for the best.” I choked out.

         “You don’t - you can’t believe that.” She said, disbelieving.

        “I do. It is - it’s for the best.” I repeated mimicking my father's words from earlier. 

        “How?” She demanded, tears pricking at her eyes. “How is it better for you to leave? We were finally getting along, minus these past few days, we’ve never been closer.”

         “I’m easy to replace.” I assured her, forcing a smile. “You’ll find a new... friend.”

         “What are you talking about?” She asked, voice empty and quiet.

         “I’m easy to replace.” I repeated. “So, you’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

          Again I forced a smile, despite holding back tears. 

           “There’s only one you.” She said sadly. “If you transfer there’s no way to stay in touch. The time difference will be too great, and constantly shifting.”

           “I know.” I said quietly.

           “And you weren’t even going to say goodbye.” She spat, angry.

            “It’s easier to have a clean break if you hate me, you won’t miss me.” I explained, quietly, still shrinking from her angry gaze.

            “A clean break? Have you done this before? Gotten close, let us in, only to transfer and run and leave us all behind.” She demanded.

         Her anger hurt, but I knew it was for the best. I nodded.

         “And to think I actually cared about you. And I was just some, some pawn. Whatever, transfer. I don’t care, not for a flake like you.” She spat before turning on her heel and leaving. 

         I sighed, and wiped away the few tears that had managed to escape, steadying myself for my last meeting with the officer. I could always break down on the transfer pod. I always did when my dad forced me to transfer. I really should’ve learned my lesson by now, don’t get close. 

         I knocked on the officers office.

         “Come in.” He said, and the door slid open. 

         I fisted my hand over my heart in salute. “I’m just here to confirm my transfer.”

          He glanced up. “I’m not a fan of the fact that the commander felt the need to step in and transfer you, but I can’t argue. I am loath to lose you though, but yes, your transfer is complete. The pod is ready to take you down to the space station where you will meet your new crew.”

         “Thank you.” I said, bowing slightly before turning and leaving.

          I almost ran straight into Jaz.

          “Why did you lie?” She asked.

          “I didn’t?” I said, confused.

          “You said that you requested the transfer.” She said. “But, the officer just said that the commander stepped in.”

           I stared at her blankly. Dammit she wasn’t supposed to find out.

           “Well?” She pressed. “Say something. Why does the commander have interest in you? I mean you’re good, but not that good, are you?”

          “He’s my father.” I admitted. “But it doesn’t matter, the transfer is complete. I’m leaving.”

           “Your father is making you transfer, why?” Jaz demanded, following me as I set off down the hallway.

          “He’s the commander, and I’m his

daughter.” I said flatly. “He wants to make sure I have a ‘proper’ image.”

         “So what? You can’t have friends?” She asked, drawing up level to me.

        “Uh, no.” I admitted. “I just can’t have, uh, more, he wants to pick for me.”

       “But you don’t....” She trailed off. “You’re not dating anyone.”

        “No, I’m not.” I said quietly. “But, I have feelings and those have to be billed in the bud, or rather pulled out, roots and all, so they can’t grow.”

        “That’s harsh.” Jaz muttered. “But, who do you like?”

        I smiled sadly as I grabbed my bag. “Isn’t it obvious?”

        She gave me a strange look. “No?”

        I walked the short distance to the transfer pod, and placed my bag in it, securing it in place.

        “Who is it? Lex? Who is it?” She pressed.

        “You. I like you.” I admitted, with the same sad smile, facing her one last time before turning and stepping into the pod.

         “What...?” She mumbled, shocked.

         “Forget it.” I mumbled as I slid the pod door shut.

216.1 (a long while later)

         Sari’s hand was in mine as we walked through the base to meet up with the other ground team. They were from another ship, but since this was a planet with large hostile non sapient predators, higher command had felt it was necessary. 

          Sari and I were from a small ship, making up the ground team for ours, but the one we were meeting up with for backup, had a team of twelve. They were from a pretty big ship. 

         We reached the meeting area, and saw that we had arrived first. Sari sat down, pulling me down as well. 

         “Are you going to be okay?” She asked. 

          “Yes.” I answered, glancing at her, confused.  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

          “I know you don’t like people.” She said.

          “It’s not that I don’t like people. It’s that I’m afraid to get close.” I muttered.

           She squeezed my hand reassuringly. “It’s one mission. There will hardly be team bonding. We just need to collect the minerals and get out.”

          I nodded. “I know, I just -“

          I shut myself up, when I saw the other group enter. More importantly, when I saw and recognized who was leading them.

          It couldn’t be. How? My father wouldn’t let this happen, not when he was so close to getting what he wanted.

         I paled and my throat closed up. God I wasn’t prepared for this. I couldn’t see her again.

         “Zandra, Zandra are you okay? What’s going on?” Sari asked, moving to be in front of me.

         I tried to take a deep breath and calm myself. “Sorry, yes.”

         I stood, despite my breathing still being shaky.

         One of the other grounders snorted. “Is she even qualified to be on a ground team.?”

      “Shut it Julian.” Jaz snapped. “She’s more qualified than you.”

       “You know her?” Sari asked, surprised.

       Jaz nodded. “We used to be on the same crew a few years ago, but she got transferred.”

       I noticed an alien woman eyeing my over Jaz’s shoulder, sizing me up.

       I forced a smile. “I told you I wouldn’t be hard to replace.”

       Jaz’s expression fell. “You could never be replaced Lex.”

       I felt a twinge in my chest at the nickname. 

       “You let her call you that?” Sari asked quietly.

       I nodded, but then refocused. “Come on we have a mission. We’re wasting daylight. And yes, I know this planet has long days, with the night only lasting an hour or so, but still.”

       Jaz nodded. “You still have a point. Do you guys have a navigator?”

        “Zander’s the best navigator I’ve met.” Sari spoke up.

        “You haven’t met very many people then.” I muttered.

         “Really?” Jaz chuckled. “She must have picked up a few skills since I knew her then.”

         I smiled. “We just had a different navigator. Our crew wanted me for my fighting skills.”

         “We are in desperate need of those now.” The alien woman spoke up. “I’m the only semi-decent fighter we have.”

         “Really? That must be why we’re here.” Sari said. “Since were a small crew and a small ship we have to be fighters in case we get attacked. I can’t always expect Zandra to cover for me.”

         The alien woman eyed me. “I’m Ry.”

         “Alexandra.” I returned. “But you can call me Alex.”

         “Alex, huh.” She muttered. “You don’t look like much.”

         I shrugged, not having a response. We reached the airlock and stepped inside, waiting till we could exit to the outside planet. It had an atmosphere that was breathable, but an airlock was just protocol on space bases. 

         Once we were outside I breathed in a deep breath of fresh air, enjoying the breeze on my face. Ry flinched back from the breeze.

         “It’s freezing out here.” She muttered, rubbing her arms.

         I slipped my jacket off, and handed it over. “Take it.”

        “Really?” She asked as she grabbed it. “Won’t you be cold?”

         I shook my head. “Just take it. If you’re the only fighter in your group you need to stay warm.”

        She nodded and slipped it on. 

        She glanced at me again. “I take back my previous assessment. You do look like a fighter.”

        I remained silent, just pulling up a map. “The mineral deposit is to the north.”

       I felt Sari step closer to me, protectively. “You guys should prepare better in the future.”

       Ry nodded. “Got it, you don’t like me stealing your girlfriend’s clothes.”

       “We’re not dating.” I said flatly. 

[thesecrookedbones-blog]

the collection.

“I think yer book’s makin’ it worse out there, y’know? Girls’re disappearin’ faster than ever. What’re ya even doin’ about it? You think ya can come here with yer fancy education and yer fictional little books. This’s real life, slim. Emily’s a good girl. Comes in all the time gettin’ supplies to keep the neighborhood strays well fed. What’re you gonna do when her body shows up like the rest of ‘em?” Buck’s tenure in Chilling is measured by the way his teeth sit ground deep toward his gum line. His brows sit low against his eyes, like anchors dragging along rebellious eyes that no longer wish to see the pain around him. I know from what city hall records I could find, that Buck has owned this general store since 1983, inheriting it from his father before him. Southern hospitality is only known to the locals, like some kind of localized slang. There was never any welcome wagon for Nora and I. Any words of encouragement actually sound like a shotgun shell being loaded into a sawed off chamber. Or the coarse friction of a knotted noose. “Just the lightbulbs today, Buck. It’ll probably cost me extra for the lecture and I’m short today.” “You think yer so funny, Mr. Typewriter? You come into town an’ just look what you’ve done.” His words hiss past stained yellow teeth, syllables clicking like a slow trotting horse. The teeth were appropriately reminiscent of a horse too - in their prime. Back before the Copenhagen dips and malt liquor sips before sunrise. Behind the halitosis breath is a venom Buck has never spoke to me; something I have been too afraid to mention. His daughter was one of the names on a growing list of the missing, and later deceased. The Collector had left her in a deer carcass bag after collecting his trophy. It was her tattoo from her right shoulder blade, memorializing her mother with bumblebees and sunflowers. Two of her most favorite things. Layla Carpenter. She got inked underage at 17 after her mother lost her battle with breast cancer. It’d been a badge of honor. I could tell it from the way she showed it off in off-shoulder dresses and floppy tank tops. She smiled wider for Polaroids when the tattoo was in the photo with her, like she’d mastered the ‘glance over the shoulder and smile’ pose just to honor her late mom. She’d been missing since 2000. She was The Collector’s first. He kept her the longest. Her body was discovered exactly one week after Nora and I moved in; lakeside nearest our property. Her body melded with the burlap carcass bag, decomposing so harshly that the medical examiner couldn’t tell flesh from bag. Often even after severe decomposition, special wavelengths of light and photographs can enhance ink in any remaining tissue. There was nothing to enhance - but everyone knew The Collector’s calling card. Her tattoo was in his possession. A token of his kill. “Just ring him up, Buck. Fer Pete’s fuckin’ sake.” I nod my appreciation to Todd. He’s one of the few neutrals I have in this town. His eyes betray him in hiding the spark of curiosity I know he feels. He has no pawns; no one on the growing list. Hell, Todd lives alone in the home his parents expired in. He has no one to look after him as he expires and no one to lace his grave with flowers once he’s gone. He has nothing to lose. “Thanks,” I say, tucking the paper bag against my shoulder, though my eyes lock with Todd - the only person who deserves my gratitude. Back at the house, I leave the bag beneath the flood light fixtures that seem to have shoddy wiring. The fixture eats through bulbs at least once a week, somehow feeding too much power while still causing the ominous orb to flicker in and out. I check my watch. School will let out soon and Nora will be home. She’s been bugging me about this light. Any kind of darkness makes her feel uneasy. I can see it in the way every layer of her spine pricks as she rounds a dark corner, helplessly reaching for a lightswitch. Plugging the six-foot wood-runged ladder down beneath the flood light fixture, my shoe centers the rung and haphazardly trusts my weight to it. It flexes but the screws snar and it holds. Gravel sounds behind my back as I twist a fresh bulb in. I’m in a pissing contest with the rest of this town, careful not to show fear or cowardice, so I don’t turn my head. Fingers yo-yo the lightbulb to a tightened position and the footsteps behind me still. I finally sneak a glance.“Yer so fucked.” I don't know him by name, but he's recognizable as one of the local meth addicts. What about him? I try to paint a mental picture of his face and I’m lost in non-distinctive identifiers. Bugged eyes, a toothless grin, sunken cheeks, and clothes that loosely swing off of his bony structure. Is he a suspect? He laughs at me, his hollow soul echoing behind him as he continued on. He's probably hallucinating, I tell myself and finish with the second bulb. The ladder gets returned to the corner filled with dust bunnies in the garage and I discard yet another bulb box. The basement of the home is bunkered beneath ground; a safe haven from tornadoes. It is the only place I trusted my work, given the lack of any natural daylight. It’s the space I get lost in, drawn in like a moth to lamplight. As I descend on creaky, wooden steps, I decide - it’s time to start Emily Marx’s chapter. The latest missing girl. Keys gallop against paper freely, a brainwave on a stroke of genius. The latest victim is fresh in my mind. Bright eyed with a bright future, given the academic records her parents’ failed to share with me. They slammed the door in my face, blaming me for opening this can of demons again. They thought my soul needed saving. They hoped to see me in church on Sunday morning. Her body hasn’t been recovered, but it’s nearing two weeks. I expected her to be the next ink to his collection after 48 hours. Death is the sole consumer in this barren land, its hunger accelerated by demons sworn off by bible verses Sunday morning and ill-will cast against family and friends after a few swigs of whiskey post-service. Blasphemy pulled straight from the bottle. Hours wash away outside without notice. The south has a way of filling your pores with heavy heat and slugging you down, zapping Father Time until seconds rock by slower or the mind’s ability to be conscious of it slips away. Each chapter takes its toll. Another life vanished into the thick air, often in stark daylight. The moment they encounter The Collector, they become another ghost; a wisp of heavy wind to remind us all that Chilling is haunted by a living being. I find myself in the position I often end up in with this book, face curtained with my hands as I count the breaths it takes to make me feel better about it all. I still haven’t found the number. Then it dawns on me. The silence overhead. Usually the kitchen floorboards would creak as Nora dances around the kitchen, preparing another meal without company while I try to figure out the great mystery of Chilling, Missouri. No creaks have sounded above to distract me from proper sentence structure or finding the perfect word that’s just hibernating at my fingertips. No, it’s been oddly silent. I feel uneasy all at once, but disallow panic as I jog up the straining basement stairs. The kitchen is dark, as is the living room, and entryway hall. Upstairs sounds just as quiet, but I run up nonetheless. Nora perfects stability in my schedule, trying to make my life look somewhat normal. She never falters - but I’m the inconsistent one. Maybe I didn’t listen or didn’t remember. She could have parent-teacher conferences. Maybe some kind of after-school tutoring session. Maybe some other after-school activity. I pretend I don’t hear the stress battering through ragged breaths. Where would she be, where could she be? Tires squeal into the school parking lot. It’s empty. Her car is nowhere to be seen, but I still run toward the front doors, truck barely stuck in park. It’s dark inside. Not a soul to be seen. There I stand, in a pained shred of reality. I didn’t even notice she didn’t come home. I check all of the possible spots, and Chilling has a limited selection. The diner, the gas station, the library, the post office, the general store. No sign of her car. I stop outside of the old run-down drive-in that has only been used as vandal grounds for the last decade and find my hands shaky as I dial the sheriff’s department. “My wife - fiancee - is missing.” It’s better not to go to the office in person, I decide. They’ll waste precious minutes vetting me, seeing only an unfriendly face they already suspect to be all kinds of evil. “She - school gets out at 2:30 and she’s usually home by 4 at the latest, depending on what kind of students need help after-school. ...Eleanor Coulson. Yeah. Middle is Winona. She’s - her birthday is June 29, 1986. Look, can you just - I am being calm.” My lip quivers and heat streaks down my cheeks. The speedometer ticks to 65, the big truck’s steering wheel quaking within my palms. "She’s like...5’6” or 5’7” and can’t weigh much more than 100 pounds. She’s small, but she’s mighty.” The sorrow touches the back of my throat and I cough to cover the emotional choke. “No, no scars or tattoos.” It's an identification question, but it feels pointed and my answer washes gooseflesh down my neck. The female voice on the other end of my call drifts into a cavernous hole as my right foot shifts from gas pedal to brake, tires crying against warm pavement. I can hear my heart rattle my skull, vision blurred with thoughts lashing against positivity. The previous girls with their mangled bodies, tattoos sliced from their skin, torture evident in their demise - it all bleeds forward until the female’s voice rises, “hello?” “I - her, her car. I just found it on Highway 26 near milepost 17.” A long pause. “He’s got her.” 6 hours later, I return home after police interrogation. I’m the prime suspect in the tragic story I’ve supposedly created. I sit there in the driver’s seat, hands folded beneath my nose and listen to the waves of fear wash over my knuckles. Within eye line, the flood light surges and flickers, faltering between a vivacious glow and the absorption of death. I watch intently, hoping the light will stay lit. Lightness in the dark - a symbol of hope. But the light hisses and with a dull gurgle, it flickers to black. A tear rims my lower lid. He’s got her. Her life will burn out just like that bulb. Hot air fills the truck, my throat rattling with rage as a low growl precedes the words I will die by if I must: “The collection ends now, you motherfucker.”

[crackmadhi]

Why would I hate you for loving me?

Saturday, 23 June 2029

It was Saturday evening. In four days Nahyuta and Apollo would fly back to Khura’in and Klavier had decided that they should make a little celebration before they would leave on Tuesday.

This was why Nahyuta sat at a table with Ema, Kay and Athena, who were vividly discussing the most useful self-defence techniques. In the background he heard Apollo, Sebastian, and Klavier discuss about something related to music, while Pearl and Trucy were talking about Trucy’s last show. He was quite amused by women’s discussion and was content to sit with them.

Yet he knew that he had to do something important this evening. And he had to do it tonight or he would not do it at all. His stomach started turning as soon as he just thought of it but there was no way leading around this.

Finally, Nahyuta heard Klavier going into the kitchen and excused himself and followed the man quickly. As he entered the room, Klavier was standing in front of the fridge and took out some bottles of soda. Nahyuta walked over to him and waited until he was noticed by the blond.

“Do you need something?”, Klavier asked sensing that the monk wanted something particular.

Nahyuta smiled serenely and looked out of the window. He really did not want to do this.

“Simon went upstairs some time ago, correct?”

Klavier froze and blinked quizzingly for some seconds. Then he suddenly understood where Nahyuta was going. The boldness of that move surprised him quite a bit.

“Yeah. You know him. Too many people and too much talking. I told him he could rest in the guest room”, he now told the prince quickly. “Do you want to… to tell him now?”

There was no hint of hesitation or fear in Nahyuta’s eyes, when Klavier had asked him this. But somehow the rock star still felt something strange radiating from the other man. He knew that Nahyuta always tried to keep it cool and acted so untouchable and divine, because it was part of his defence mechanism and an act for the khura’inese court, but in reality, he was quite a sensitive person, who wanted nothing more than to be accepted.

Due to this, Klavier had a hard time believing Nahyuta as he answered calmly: “Yes, I do. I already told you I would tell him, after I’d collected my thoughts. Now my thoughts are collected and I’m ready to tell him. It’s just easy like that.”

“No, Nahyuta it’s not. I know how afraid I was when Apollo and I talked about our feelings for each other for the first time. I was simply terrified and convinced that I’d die on the spot. But I’m not stopping you by any means. Go and tell him. Take your time, I’ll make sure nobody is going to disturb you two.”

Nahyuta nodded as he tried to ignore the whole first part of Klavier’s words. He was already afraid enough without thinking of a mortified Klavier.

“Thank you for your help. But I don’t think it will take to long”, Nahyuta now said and started walking towards the door leading to the corridor upstairs.

“If you say so… Still, good luck with this!”, Klavier told his friend as he exited the room.

Lightly Nahyuta climbed the stairs, leaving the muffled chattering form the living room behind. He felt his heart beating faster, as he saw the white door to his right. This was where Simon always went when they were at Klavier’s. The room had a small balcony, what was ideal for the samurai’s beloved hawk. Also, the view from the window was quite nice and Nahyuta did not doubt that the dawning city made a beautiful picture.

Taking one last breath to collect himself, before he knocked tenderly at the door and said: “Are you in there Simon?”

He heard a somewhat approvingly sounding gruff from inside the room. A smile stole its way on Nahyuta’s lips and he asked: “Would you mind me coming in?”

Simon did not respond for several moments. Nahyuta’s heart was beating twice as fast as it normally did as the other finally said: “Nah, it’s fine. Come in.”

Swiftly the monk opened the door and entered, closing the door quietly behind him. Immediately he found his friend sitting crossed legged on the guest bed. He was looking at him with keen eyes and an unreadable expression.

Hesitantly Nahyuta walked across the room and stopped in front of the bed. As Simon gestured him to sit down, he took a seat on the other end of the bed. He tensely stared on his legs and flattened out some none-existing wrinkles in his white trousers.

Bravely smiling he looked up and met Simon’s gaze. They had come separately to the event, he with Apollo, Trucy and Pearl, while Simon had come with Athena. That was why he hadn’t had the chance to look at the man properly today, and only now he was able to appreciate the quite unique attire typical for the samurai. A black long-sleeves pullover with a white Psi symbol on it hung from his shoulders. Beneath it he was wearing a snow-white shirt with a wingtip collar. It was longer than the pullover and the lower hem part reached his crotch. As always, when he was outside of court, he was wearing black skinny jeans.

This style had really grown on Nahyuta. Wasn’t it strange that he used to think of these black and white combinations as lazy and edgy? And now he actually admired the way he dressed even though he still did not like the style in general.

Yet Nahyuta said nothing concerning the other’s look. To comment on it would only be a waste of his breath, he figured and licked his lips nervously.

“I hope I do not bother you too much. I understand you are only here because you needed some time away from us all”, Nahyuta started and looked down on his hands once again.

Simon watched him closely. He got a lot of different signals from the man right now and he understood quite well that he wanted to talk about something that scared him terribly. And he also saw, how desperately Nahyuta needed to talk about it. It made him uneasy to see his friend so tense in his presence and he wanted him to feel more at ease.

Eyeing him from the side and putting on calming smile Simon answered then: “You don’t count as people. You were never nearly as energy sucking as half of the people down there. Pearl is probably the only one, who is even less talkative than you but even she’s taking more of my energy than you do. So, don’t worry. I’m pretty happy with you being here.”

While listening to Simon’s words Nahyuta had looked up and was now facing him. Sometimes he would have sacrificed a leg, so Simon would stop reading all his motions and words perfectly right. It was nearly impossible for him to keep anything from this ridiculous goth.

“If you had been around during my time as Ga’ran’s pawn, I could never have pulled this off. Seriously, it is annoying how easy it is for you to look through me”, Nahyuta complained playfully and leaned back.

Still observing him closely Simon did not budge but shrugged and answered: “I don’t know about that. I have a lot of knowledge from your past today and when you focus it, it’s not that hard to read between the lines. Wanna tell me now what’s up? You’ve been acting strange for the past few days.”

Nahyuta braced himself for what would be coming now. He felt his mask falling and closed his eyes in desperation.

“I – I need to confess something. I don’t want you to hate me for it but it’s – it’s not like I could decide that. I – While we spent time together, also with or without Klavier, I – I started to grow really attached to it and I liked it a lot, and I’m grateful for every second, and I don’t want to lose that at all, but I know – well, I don’t really – you are the one to make the decision. – Vehemently he paused and took a deep breath – Anyway, what I want to say is that I … have … Developed … feelings … for-for … you. Romantic feelings. … And I – don’t know what to do w-with it”, Nahyuta broke off in tears.

Simon had untangled his legs and moved carefully towards Nahyuta. The monk tried to keep his sobbing to a minimum but was miserably failing. Apparently crying was the one thing even Nahyuta could not pull off while looking somehow divine.

Tenderly Simon tapped on Nahyuta’s arm and waited for the man to finally look at him. It took quite a while until the monk had gathered his courage and found the strength to meet Simon’s gaze again.

His lip was shivering emotionally, and Simon felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. For the first time in a while Simon had actual difficulties to put a smile on his face. But he wanted to show Nahyuta that it was okay, that he was not angry or mad. That nothing bad was going to happen just now.

“I don’t hate you, Yuta. Why would I? You did not choose these feelings and by all means, love is not something horrible to experience. It’s going to be okay”, Simon told Nahyuta with a warm voice as he gently patted his shoulder.

Nahyuta gaped at him in wonder before he broke out in confusion: “But? Aren’t you afraid of how our friendship will change, now that you know it? Aren’t you worried that I might overstep any boundaries or – “

“You never overstepped your boundaries before and change is not necessarily a bad thing. I mean, I don’t even know what I would like to change between us. I have no idea what you want of a romantic relationship. Have you considered, that maybe it would be fine with me to change some things? That I’d like some more contact with you?”

Baffled Nahyuta stared at Simon. This was not something he had seen coming. It was nothing he had ever dreamt of.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“But you’re aromantic and asexual? I mean you – I thought – Why would you be fine with dating then? I don’t understand.”

Nahyuta looked at him at loss of words. This did not make any sense to him.

With a patience unknown to the monk Simon took his hand and sighed slowly. There was something soft and kind in his features and Nahyuta felt how the samurai had just let down a layer of his well-built defence wall. He was letting him in on something he normally did not share with people.

“You know…”, Simon stared with a low voice and slightly quivering hands, “I am aro/ace. I’m not attracted towards anybody in a sexual or romantic sense. But I’m not made of stone. I like being hugged and being told … nice things. And somehow apparently only people in romantic relationships get these things. And I don’t think that that makes any sense or is fair in any possible way… I’ve spent a long time on my own, without anybody close to me. It’s mostly my own fault that it was like this, but I’m still rather… touch deprived. I really could need someone who would like to be close to me. And I do like you. You are a good friend and I trust you. I want you to be happy and if you think you can’t be with someone who doesn’t feel the same way about you how you feel about them, I’m fine with that. Just know… I care about you, I do like you a lot. And having a prioritized relationship with you sounds really great to me.”

This was straight up one of the cutest yet saddest things Nahyuta had ever heard. And it was coming from a man who could easily wrestle with Datz and exclusively wore black. When exactly had his life made this turn, he questioned himself as he suddenly realized that Simon’s hand was still quivering.

Taken aback Nahyuta squeezed the others hand lightly and smiled at him warily. Somehow, he did no longer feel so pathetic. Even Simon was somehow scared, and he was not even in love with him. Maybe this situation would be easier to fix, than he had expected.

“Simon… I’m honoured that you see me like this. And if there would be a way to have a closer relationship with you, I’d like to take that way.”

Simon saw Nahyuta’s eyes sparkle. It was truly incredible how much excitement fitted in this man’s little chest. He smiled fondly and asked his friend: “So what would you like to do in a relationship then? Let’s check what’s on the list, good?”

“Good!”, Nahyuta nodded and started thinking. He had never been in a relationship before, everything he had were just wild guesses of what he – no, they might enjoy together. But it was something and he supposed that was better than nothing.

“Well, I don’t have any real experience with this terrain, but I’d like to cook and eat more with you. When I’m here of course. Take-out is nice, but cooking is clearly more fun, right?”

Simon grinned amused and nodded.

“Yeah sure. I kinda expected you to start with something food related.”

“Eating is life and it would be a real blessing if it was part of everything of my life. Unfortunately, that’s not the case and I’ll have to work with what I get. Anyway, I simply would like some more quality time with you. Nothing against Klav, but sometimes it would be nice to just have some time for ourselves.”

Again, Simon simply nodded.

“Would be fine with me.”

“To clarify it a bit, so you know what I am getting at; I’m talking about watching movies or series together, being lazy and just talking together. I’d be really happy to just have more of that.”

Encouraged by Simon’s approving smile Nahyuta continued bravely: “I also would appreciate it, if we would video chat once in a while. Something like Klav and Apollo do. I mean, we often just are involved in those chats, but I’d like to have a private one with you now and then, if you’d be fine with it.”

“Totally. I enjoy talking to you without being observed by your brother or Klav. I’d like that a lot”, Simon approved, his hands now finally being still again.

Nahyuta smiled brightly and playfully brushed his bangs behind his ear. He was glad seeing his friend relax again. The trembling fingers, which most people overlooked constantly, were never a good sign and he was just glad that it had stopped again.

Maybe now was the time to bring up some intimate requests? Nahyuta was not so sure but he somehow also suspected that there would never come more fitting opportunity again. So why not just go for it, he told himself and put his doubts aside.

“I do not know how you stand to these things, but I’d like to talk also about some physical things. Like – where lie the boundaries for you? What kind of touching or contact are you fine with? That stuff”, Nahyuta said as he looked very seriously at his friend.

Simon’s expression had hardened word by word. Nevertheless, he did not appear to be overly concerned or serious. It was more of a respectful awe he showed for the cause.

Understandingly he straightened up and said: “That’s indeed important. I’m glad you consider my needs, but neither of us should be hurt or neglected in this relationship. Your feelings in this are just as important as mine and I also need to know what you like in general.”

When Nahyuta approved with the hint of a nod Simon continued frankly: “I like body contact a lot. Just not on the naked skin. I dislike it when my stomach, chest, upper arms and legs are exposed, and I really, really hate it when somebody touches me there without asking. Same goes with the hair. Please, please don’t touch it. I’m weird with this but I really can’t stand it. Other than that, I really appreciate hugs and cuddling, and I’m not even opposed to share a bed from time to time. Well, I – I really like the idea, actually.”

Nahyuta had closed his eyes and let the samurai’s words sink. Not liking to expose his skin. It did not surprise him. The vulnerability that the scars from the fights and torture revealed, must pain Simon up to this day. Maybe it was something similar with the hair. The white patch could tell one just as much and maybe touching it reminded the man of it.

Then a smile crept on his face. There was a wish in Simon to cuddle. The huge, scary-looking samurai, who still told stories about his murderous inmates to creep away people and could stare lethally, wanted to spoon in a bed. It basically made him to the world most fearsome teddy bear.

Holding back a giggle, Nahyuta opened his eyes again and responded amused: “I will remember those things and will not overstep the boundaries you set. If something changes though, do not fret to inform me. I want you to be as comfortable as you can be. I myself do not dislike it if you touch my bare skin. Sometimes, I would probably even enjoy it if you would stroke me. But that’s more of an extra than actually necessary. As you know I like it when my hair is being brushed. However, I dislike it when someone touches my stomach. No matter what, do not touch that. That also goes for the feet and the sides. I’m ticklish there and if you ever try to tickle me, I’ll walk outside and will not talk with you for a week. Understood?”

Immediately Simon agreed under the monk’s fierce gaze. Contently Nahyuta continued: “Good. This is absolutely confidential information and I trust you to keep it to yourself. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I’m not opposed to hugging or cuddling you, because I enjoy it just as much as you do. Yet I would like it if we did it in private though, since I do not want to cause a scandal. Not that you would be scandalous. But me being a prince of a highly religious country and you being a man, might be enough for the press to form a scandal and that would be annoying for my country, you and me.”

“Define ‘in private’”

“I – Well, no hand holding on the street, in the courthouse or other work spaces and probably also in other public facilities, like theatres or restaurants, where the press could see us.”

“But it would be fine if we did that in one of our friends’ homes or in their company? You don’t want to keep it from them?”

Surprised Nahyuta blinked. Abruptly he realized that Simon did not want to waste energy in keeping their relationship a secret. He did not want to hide or pretend. He did not want to lie to anyone.

“No, I don’t. They shall know about it. As I said before, I’m not ashamed of you or my feelings for you.”

A glint of warmth flashed in the swampy dark eyes of the samurai. This kind of recognition did him well.

“All right. I’m fine with that. Please go on. You weren’t finished yet”, Simon told his friend with a casual hand gesture.

“Ah yes. I wanted to say that I’m also not opposed to share a bed with you from time to time. I mean that has happened in the past and you are quite a pleasant partner to spoon with. I’d enjoy repeating that.”

Nahyuta winked daringly and thought to have spotted a light pinkness on Simon’s pale cheeks. But maybe he only imagined it, since it was gone in the blink of an eye.

A silence spread out between the two. Most things were said, and they had found a way to handle their feelings. They had come closer and now their legs touched. Nahyuta felt Simon’s weight leaning against his side and watched how Simon’s eyelids closing slowly and opening them again rapidly.

Suddenly Simon lifted his hand in front of his mouth and hid a yawn. The prosecuting panda apparently was sleepy Nahyuta concluded amused. Gently he nudged his arm and asked: “Could it be that you retreated this early because you are tired?”

“What would lead you to such a conclusion? It’s not the first time I’ve escaped from a social event”, Simon countered fighting off another yawn.

“It surely is not the first time you did this. But it was unusually early for you to do so. You’ve maybe spent about an hour and a half with us and you only talked with Pearl for maybe twenty minutes. We haven’t been loud, and your discussion wasn’t intense. And as far as I know, you haven’t had any other meetings this day. You wouldn’t be this exhausted if you hadn’t already been tired when you came here in the first place.”

“Alright”, Simon confessed and let himself drop on the mattress. He had real trouble to keep his eyes open.

“You haven’t slept a lot last night, have you?”, Nahyuta asked and lay down next to him.

“Nope.”

“You should try to take a nap now.”

“I can’t sleep. No matter how tired I am, as soon as I close my eyes I feel like I need to stand up again. And it’s too cold.”

Nahyuta giggled at that and told Simon to move properly on the bed. Quickly he slipped out of his shoes, and as he lay back down next to his samurai he tucked them in a blanket. Gently he put his arm around the others chest und nuzzled his head to Simon’s chin.

He heard Simon’s heart beat growing slower and felt his breathing going steadier. Apparently, he provided enough warmth for the samurai to slowly fall asleep. He even felt himself growing more tired from second to second.

Yet before Nahyuta’s consciousness ultimately faded the dream world he asked Simon: “Do you think, that you’d be okay if I’d kiss you one day?”

“… Yeah. That’d be fine.”

And then they fell asleep.

Link to the fanfiction ond ao3 (there is a 2nd chapter^^):

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16288769/chapters/38094824

[bbbb-barnes]

Dance With The Devil [ 2 ] - A Mobster!Bucky X Reader.

Summery- You’re a hard working NYU student that left a small town childhood of gangs, drugs and violence behind. When you find out your mother is struggling you go back home to help, only to realise the gang your father used to run has become ruthless, however a handsome and dangerous man from your families rival gang catches your eyes and you can’t seem to stay away.  (I am bad at summeries, if anybody can write a better one SLIDE IN MY DM’S ill love u) 

SLIDE IN MY DM’S ANYWAYS requests are open or just come for a chat and let me know what u think x

Say hello to my greasy beefy boi 

Warnings- Swearing, mentions of violence. 

You had been home for approximately 3 hours and you were already bored. Your mother had stopped doting on you and allowed you to settle in your room and after you had attempted to chat to your seriously ill grandmother for half an hour you needed some time to yourself. Your preppy room was exactly the same as you had left it when you were 18, the old pictures of you and your friends you had gotten printed off at the convenience store around the corner for a quarter each were tacked on to the pale pink wall and curling at the edges, there was a ‘Toy Story’ poster on your wall which made you chuckle so you kept it up, the thing that made you cringe however was the bright pink and yellow polka dot sheets and matching bedspread, they needed to go. You quickly packed your clothes away, taking note how colourless your current wardrobe is compared to the bright clashing patterns of your younger years. It was so strange being back, you felt like you had just slipped back into your old life, your mom was downstairs making dinner and you could have easily been 17 again and studying for an algebra test on your garish bedspread, it was all very nostalgic. You padded down the stairs and eagerly followed the delicious scent of food. You found your mother hunched over a large pot on the stove humming to herself, various spices littering the marbled side.

“Smells great, Ma” you complimented as you slid onto the kitchen stool opposite, she glanced up from the pot and gave you a grateful grin. Your mother was a beautiful woman, she kept her beauty in to her older adult years, albeit with a few grey hairs and extra wrinkles around her deep hazel eyes.

“Thank you dear, do you mind watching the pot I have a quick errand to run” she sighed as she untied her apron and placed the steel lid back on to the simmering pot, she sounded tired and it made you frown, she had been working extra time as a cleaner recently to help pay for your Grandmothers medical bills, she then had to come home and care for her and it was clearly taking its toll.

“I’ll do it, you look exhausted” you quickly offered, thinking the fresh air would do you some good anyways, however for some reason your mother didn’t look convinced. She smoothed down her blouse.

“I’ll just mess up dinner and I have to go to the store anyway” you quickly reasoned, but she still softly shook her head, the concerned expression not leaving her face, first Steve and now your mom, the secrecy was getting annoying, your scowl obviously said more than words ever could as she flopped down on to the stool opposite you.

“Y/N, dear I need to collect my wages from my boss James, but James is a high-ranking member of The Commando’s, you can’t go over there” she was uneasy, and you could tell, and you felt like your eyes were going to roll back into your head.

“If I hear about this god damn ‘gang’ again today I’m going to scream. I’ll go” you told her firmly, standing up and dramatically pushing the bar-stool away from you but she caught your arm with her hand.

“I wish you would start taking this a little more seriously, I thought Steve would talk some sense into you today” she warned you, not letting go of your arm.

“I don’t understand this at all, first of WHY are you working for this man, secondly how are you even in contact with Steve if they’re all so dangerous.” You admitted defeat and flopped back on to the bar-stool, eager to get some answers.

Your mother ran a hand through her wispy hair and looked wistfully into the distance as she prepared to answer.

“I know James’s mother, we were friends long before any of our families got involved in this gang business and we remain friends, we promised not to let that get in the way of our friendship, although it’s getting harder to do that recently. As a favour to his mother James gave me a job cleaning his house for good money, I won’t say he’s overly pleasant to me but he’s the reason I can pay Nonna’s medical bills, so I don’t complain. Steve is a lovely boy, he knows what happened at the hands of your father, he’s the reason that god awful gang leave me alone, but they all secretly think that I’m still working for your Uncle Jack, and with you back in town they think that’s more reason to be suspicious in their opinion, they think he’s training you up to be a part of the Moretti’s or something stupid. You need to stay away, you’ll just be used as a pawn for their horrible games, they’re always looking for a reason to declare all out war on each other.” She told you very matter-of-factly, you took a few moments to process her words and honestly all they did was make you angry. You weren’t property and you certainly weren’t going to be used as some kind of pawn in pathetic fights, the fact this James guy seemed to treat your mother like shit didn’t make you feel much better either, but you had made a promise to stay out of the way and as much as you wanted to storm into that guys house and tell him to grow the fuck up, for everybody’s sake you didn’t.

“Okay, I’ll be good” you finally admitted defeat to the obvious surprise of your mother and you watched begrudgingly as she pulled on her coat and hurried out of the door, you considered following her but decided if you were seen it would do more harm that good. She returned 10 minutes later, her facial expression giving no indication as to how it went, and you simply didn’t ask, the less you knew the better it had seemed.

After scarfing down two helpings of spaghetti and watching your mother painstakingly try and get her mother to eat you had offered to do the dishes in a lacklustre attempt to not have to watch. You stood over the faucet lost in your own thoughts, it was nearing 7PM and you were seriously in need of some sugary snacks, the worst rom-com Netflix had to offer and comfy (not neon) bedsheets. You assessed your oversized sweatshirt and skinny jeans and decided it was acceptable to leave the house in them. The problem of transportation being the only thing stopping you from a family sized bag of skittles, in New York driving was always the inferior option, however in New York you could get almost anything delivered straight to your door, Ubers Eats didn’t seem to be active here. You softly snaked around the living room door, your mom was sat on the sofa next to your grandmother, they both seemed to be engrossed in a cooking show, the light of the TV illuminating the cosy room.

“Ma, do you think I could possibly borrow the car, I need to run to the store?”  You asked in a sugary sweet voice, automatically you were transported to when you were 17 and had to ask to borrow the car to go to the Dairy Queen a town over with your friends. Your mother seemed to have the same thought as she grinned up at you with a fond shake of her head.

“Of course, dear, be careful” she handed her keys over to you and settled back into the sofa as you made your way to the driveway and into the black Nissan Versa.

The drive to the only Wal Mart in town was therapeutic, you had always enjoyed going for drives when things got a bit too much. You recalled driving to the state line listening to Fleetwood Mac once when you had first got your licence after somebody threw a brick through your living room window and your parents got into a fight about it. You sped through the now dark streets, the route coming back to you like muscle memory.

Lazily grabbing a shopping cart you slouched around the linoleum floors, the fluorescent lights making you squint slightly, you didn’t know what you wanted so you decided to just grab a little bit of everything, you weren’t particularly in a rush to get back home so you wheeled your cart to the candy isle where you came to a complete stop to consider your options, you reached for a bag of Twizlers when you heard the painstakingly familiar voice of a certain blonde and muscled ex neighbour, was this town really that small?

“Y/N” his voice was slightly raised as he hurried toward you with a large bag of chips in his hand.

“Hey Steve” you greeted casually, turning your attention back to the shelves and the various flavours of Oreo’s.

“What are you doing here?” he sounded slightly flustered and you turned to look at him with a scowl.

“Its Wal-Mart Steve, am I not permitted to be here? Is it past my curfew?” you retorted sarcastically, throwing the cookies into your cart with a little more force than needed as he looked over his shoulder.  

“Sorry” he replied a little sheepishly and you waved him off, running a hand through your hair and you wheeled your cart further down the aisle, out of your peripheral you saw him follow you.

“Watcha’ buying?” you asked, mainly out of politeness as he seemed dead set on following you, you grabbed two bags of M&M’s, one crunchy and one chocolate as you weighed on what felt like the most important decision of the day, you furrowed your brows slightly.

“Oh, I’m here with Bucky, we’re grabbing some groceries for his Ma” he replied casually, he had seemed to calm down a little by this point, he reached over and grabbed the chocolate M&M’s from you and tossed them in your cart, you wrinkled your nose at his choice.

“Bucky?” you questioned sorting slightly at the strange name, Steve sniffed at your tone.

“My pal” He shot back simply, you turned to look at him, leaning softly against your shopping cart.

“What kind of a name is Bucky?” You chuckled a little as Steve looked mortified at your comment.

“Mine.” A gruff voice came from behind you and you jumped slightly and whipped around. Stood a few feet away from you, with a gallon of milk in his large hand was possibly the beefiest guy you had ever seen. He had piecing blue eyes which were currently trained on you, he had long, dark, slightly greasy hair and stubble that coated a strong jawline, this man screamed danger and oozed confidence, everything in your bones wanted you to be afraid of him but you couldn’t deny how drop dead gorgeous he was, the obviously tailored suit aiding his allure. He took a few steps towards you and you fought the overwhelming urge to take a few steps back, you felt Steve shift behind you.

“Unique name” you muttered, not sounding as confident as you would have hoped, he cocked a brow at you but didn’t reply to you, instead he looked over your head to give Steve a look you didn’t understand.

“Y/N, this is Bucky” Steve said flatly from behind you, Bucky gave you a nod and a once over that he didn’t even try and make subtle.

“Kinda figured that one out the hard way” you murmured but flashed him a polite smile nonetheless, a slightly awkward silence settled in-between the three of you, you tried to look everywhere but Bucky, who was looking brazenly at you, the ghost of a cocky smirk on his face.

“So… How do you two know each other?” you asked, turning towards the shelves and grabbing a bottle of soda.

“Well, y’know… Family friends” Steve managed to choke out to you and you raised your eyebrows at his clusterfuck of an answer.

“We’re in a gang together” Bucky spoke matter-of-factly, his voice was gruff and low, and you liked it, you rolled your eyes.

“Oh GOD, that stupid gang” you scoffed as you placed the soda into your cart. Bucky leaned against the shelving, a look of intrigue on his features.

“You’re not scared of the gangs?” he questioned, a hint of amusement in his voice, you snickered at his question, giving him your full attention, no matter how hard it was not to cower away from his intense gaze.

“Scared of people that watched The Godfather once and run around thinking they’re in the Mafia? No not at all, I’m more scared of the rats in the subway” you wheeled your cart passed him and away from a slightly spluttering Steve, but they both followed, you came to a stop outside the ice cream freezer and Bucky placed himself at the foot of your cart, his amusement gone, only disbelief in its place.

“Maybe you should be scared” he said it quietly and almost teasingly, raising an eyebrow at you as you felt a small rush of Goosebumps take over your skin.  Before you could reply a heavy hand clapped down on your shoulder making you jump slightly and Bucky smirked at your quick slip of demeanour, damn Steve.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay out of trouble?” He questioned quietly which made you roll you eyes, you roughly grabbed a pint of Ben and Jerry’s before spinning to face him.

“I’m in Wal-Mart Steven, not Iraq” you chided sarcastically, you saw Bucky smirk at your words and it made your skin tingle slightly, Steve didn’t reply instead he gave you a firm, warning look, you both knew that isn’t what he meant. Steve was on edge, he knew catching Bucky’s eye was hardly flying under the radar and he knew when he best friend wanted something, or someone he got it.

“We’re going to go” Steve announced, looking over your head at Bucky shooting him a glare. “Bye, Y/N. See you around maybe?” you gave him a small nod and a tight smile.

“Goodbye, Y/N. I’m sure it won’t be the last time” Bucky teased with a smirk. You were too flustered to think of a witty response so just settled on raising your brows at his overwhelming confidence and with that they both stalked off.

And as quickly as Bucky and Steve came, they had left. Leaving you stood in the cold chill of the freezer section, clutching your melting tub of cookie dough ice cream wondering what the hell just happened.  You walked around the rest of the store a daze, you knew you should be scared of Bucky, everybody had warned you against them, Steve was on edge about the fact you went to Wal-Mart on your own for Christ sake, there was clearly a very real threat here, but you just couldn’t see it, maybe you were blinded by the fact you found him painfully attractive. You didn’t want to get into that mess, he was less treat you right and make you blueberry pancakes on a Sunday morning and more fuck you in an alley way behind a club and not call afterwards.

You made your way to the check out and started to load your array of sugar on to the conveyer when a nervous, acne ridden boy stopped you.

“Um, excuse me miss, this has b-been paid for” he stuttered out and you gave him a look of confusion and stopped unloading your cart.

“No, I haven’t paid for this stuff” you cocked an eyebrow at him as he shifted from one foot to another.

“Um Mr Barnes has taken care of it, it’s okay” He managed to stutter out, but you were still highly confused.

“Who?”

“Um, Bucky Barnes”

TAGLIST - @evolutionofkatep   @ghostslikemydoubts @crispychrisevans @gday-im-socially-awkward @usernamesarelies @seems-sosimple

[bat-losers-inc]

Collisions in the Dark (Ch 6): Gambit

Warning: dub-con

Summary: In the aftermath of his night with Jason, Tim learns many things. Like the target of Ra’s attack and that he might not know Jason as well as he thinks he does.

Pairing: Jason Todd/Tim Drake & Ra’s al Ghul/Tim Drake

Chapter Notes: Gambit: A sacrifice (usually of a pawn) used to gain an early advantage in space or time in the opening.

“Please keep him safe. Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed to pieces.” — “Saying Your Names”, Richard Siken.

The room was cast in darkness when Tim was awoken by Jason’s hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. Tim stirred, shifting his cheek from Jason’s naked chest to search out the other boy’s face in the dark. Tim grimaced at the slick feeling of sweat that coated his cheek, wiping it away with his hand.

“You need to head back.” said Jason, his steady voice and straight posture suggesting he’d been awake for awhile.

Tim’s eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness of the room and he could now see how Jason would not hold his gaze. Had he had another nightmare? Tim had only witnessed one of Jason’s nightmares once and Jason had never told Tim what it had been about after Tim had woken him. He could imagine Jason waking in fright, limbs jerking as the paralyzing hold of sleep released him, only to lie still and wait for his heartbeat to calm as Tim slept soundly on the other boy’s chest. It was definitely something that Jason would do and it irritated Tim that Jason wouldn’t want to wake him and talk about it.

Then again, Tim realized, why should he? Tim had no claim on Jason, in fact... they barely knew each other as far as their personal lives went. If it wasn’t jeopardizing the mission or their secret identities, then it didn’t need to be shared with the rest of their family. Tim guessed that Batman’s emotional repression had rubbed off on all of them and for better or worse Tim would just have to deal with it.

“I don’t want to go back to him.” Tim admitted.

Jason rubbed at the dark stubble that lined his jaw. Was he going to grow a beard to match the locals who lived in this frozen landscape?. “Tim… you have to.”

Jason’s words betrayed how tired he really was, though Tim was not sure quite yet if it was emotional tiredness or physical. Probably both, thought Tim. If he knew anything about Jason he was worried about the events to come today and the future implications of that.

“Are you thinking about that family? Was that what the nightmare was about? Are you worried that you’re going to have to do something bad to them?”

Jason’s eyes flicked to his face for a moment, just long enough to show Tim his suspicious surprise. “Don’t you worry about my nightmare. It’s an old wound, nothing I can’t handle.”

And Tim flashed through the possibilities, oh how there were so many. The Joker…  the explosion…  his burial… the pit. There was a Lazarus Pit hidden somewhere deep in this mountainous compound. Ra’s wouldn’t feel safe dwelling here if there wasn’t. Did Jason know about it? Did it scare him being so close to it again? Once you’ve been resurrected by the pit there’s no way to use it again. You get one extra life with an added dash of pit rage, but it was still only one life. If you die again after that…  that’s it. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200.

“Ra’s is expecting you to do whatever it takes to make the doctor work for us. Even if that means hurting his family.” Tim warned him.

“I won’t hurt that child.” Jason objected instantly.

“I know,” said Tim. “I’ll make sure to keep the girl out of the way and out of Ra’s mind as much as possible. But you might have to hurt the mother…”

Jason shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve hurt a civilian to get what I needed.”

It didn’t sound like something Jason admired in himself. He sounded a bit disgusted by his actions, but he also seemed to have come to terms with them.

“Not to sound like a broken record here, Tim, but you need to head back. Like seriously, you’re already risking your skin staying here this long.”

Tim slid out of Jason’s bed and started to pull his clothes back on. He found Jason’s clothes in the same pile where they’d been shed the night before and tossed them to him. “I told Ra’s we’d try talking to Dr. Stafford again today, this time with his wife and daughter. If we go there now and Ra’s questions me when I return to our room then he won’t suspect anything. I’ll just be following his orders.”

“That’s a weak out, especially for you, Tim.” Jason paused to pull his shirt over his head, his bed head springing loose once his head cleared the collar. “But I’m inclined to let you have it for once.”

He hopped into a pair of jeans, slipped on shoes, and made an honest attempt to tame his messy locks though it didn’t seem to do him much good.

Finally, he sighed.  “Let’s go see that family.”

They walked side by side down the dim hallways that turned Ra’s large compound into a confusing maze. It was only when they reached the lower levels that it became almost impossible to continue on as they had because of the traffic of people that passed by them.

Tim fell back behind Jason after that, Jason’s tall frame and broad shoulders blocking his view of anything in front of him. He would have liked to see the path they were traveling in case he had to return here by himself. Once again, Tim cursed his short stature.

They arrived at a gate and Jason nodded a greeting to the guards stationed in front of it. “Pemba. Tashi.”

The two guards returned his greeting with silent nods and unlocked the gate to let them pass through. Tim took notice of the old fashioned ring of keys in the guard’s hands. For all of Ra’s’ high tech in the command center, he was strategically low tech with some parts of his security. If Tim had to venture a guess, the only places with one set of keys to unlock them were probably here and the lazarus pit. Ra’s would not be foolish enough to risk those to any more than a few people.

They heard the the voices before anything else. The light cadence of a mother’s voice as she sang to her daughter. Jason paused at the sound of it, just for a second, long enough for Tim to figure he didn’t want to disturb the moment. He watched as Jason clenched his fists and continued on.

The mother heard the sound of their footsteps on the stones. Her voice was an urgent whisper as she hushed her daughter. “ — quiet for Mommy.”

A few hiccupping breaths were the only response she got. Jason shoved the bar across and yanked the cell door open. Mrs. Stafford was crouched on the dirty floor of the cell and recoiled to the far wall when she saw Jason standing over her. “Please…”

She didn’t bother saying anymore, for even Tim could see that she didn’t know what to plead for. He had no doubt that any past cries from her had gone on deaf ears down here.

“Do you remember me?” asked Jason. His voice was soft, entirely devoid of force to keep the woman calm and at attention.

She nodded.

“This is my friend, Tim. He’s going to be taking you to talk to your husband. You’re going to convince him to start working.”

“Why?” The woman’s voice was thick with confusion but Jason continued to talk over her unasked questions, trying to keep her focused.

“You’re going to remind him that the safety of his family depends on his involvement. That the longer he resists, the more he is putting your life and the life of your daughter in danger. Please, do not make me hurt you or your daughter.”

Jason seemed to have said all he needed to, for he shifted aside to let Tim through the doorway. Tim took the mother by her elbow and lead her out into the hall.

“Mommy!” a high voice cried out from another cell. The woman jerked around in Tim’s hold, swiping matted blonde hair away from her eyes as she found the cell her daughter was in, though she was too small to be seen through the window.

“Tim, go now. Cell 58. The guards there will take care of it from there.” Jason urged, voice loud over the continuous cries of the girl. Tim was quick to tighten his grip and tug the mother farther down the hall.

Mrs. Stafford did not put up any struggle as Tim lead her down the hall, her gaze turning back every once and awhile towards the way they had come, though they had walked far enough now that the voices of her daughter could no longer be heard. It did not take long after that for her to regain her composure.

“What are you two doing here with these people? You’re still children, you shouldn’t be tied up with terrorists.”

Tim scoffed a laugh at the idea of anyone calling Jason a child… or himself for that matter. Sure he had people in his life who cared about him, but none of those people had ever stopped him from risking his life.

“Jason’s not a child. He’s 21 and I’m 18. We’re old enough to understand what we’re doing. We can take care of ourselves.”

He was hoping that the sternness of tone would dissuade her from further discussion, but it only seemed to anger her more.

“You’re a child. ” she spat, coming to a stop so sharply that she nearly broke Tim’s grip on her. “And just like every child does you think that you’re invincible, but at some point something horrible is going to happen and you’ll know that you were the cause of it. You’ll be all alone and then you’ll wish there was someone there to take care of you.”

Perhaps you’re right, thought Tim but he said nothing. Instead he pulled his gaze away from Mrs. Stafford’s cold expression and directed it ahead of them. He tugged on her arm to continue forward. Cell 58 was in a small hall all on its own with another pair of guards monitoring the door.

They stepped forwards when Tim came towards them, grasping the woman by either elbow. Tim stilled the guards before they opened the cell door.

“Talk to your husband,” he urged. “and when you’re done knock twice on the door and your be returned back to your daughter.”

Tim specifically did not say “cell” for fear that she wouldn’t follow their orders. If she thought she was being reunited with her daughter after this, then perhaps she really would try to convince her husband to start work on the device. Tim, of course, could not fulfill this promise but he also did not want to deny Mrs. Stafford hope that her family would remain safe.

When Tim returned back to where Jason was waiting for him, he was surprised by the scene that laid before his eyes. The Mrs. Stafford’s cell door stood open still as they had left it, waiting for her to be returned to her cell, but open also was the daughter’s cell. Jason’s voice carried through from inside the small room.

“Shhh, didn’t your mom tell you to be quiet for her? You’ve got to be strong for her. How about I sing you a song like she did, would that make you feel better?”

There was a short silence that followed where Tim could not guess what the girl had answered with, but a moment later Jason’s voice started to sing quietly, so Tim knew the answer. The song was vaguely familiar, a rock song turned acoustic by the slow lull of Jason’s voice. Tim knew he’d heard it long ago but couldn’t remember the band or the song name.

Jason sang without hesitation, knowing that the girl was not old enough to truly understand the lyrics. He let his voice rise and hum, the part of him that recalled his own childhood remembering that it was the tune of the song that mattered more than the words themselves.

Tim crept forward until he could see Jason sitting on the ground next to the little girl, one of his calloused hands stroking the back of her head, his own head tilted back against the wall eyes cast up at the ceiling. Jason hummed the tune for a line, and tried to fill in the spaces with bits of lines that he could remember.

Tim blinked and froze at the realization that Jason’s eyes were now on him. Jason’s voice faded off and his hand stopped stroking the girl’s hair.   “I didn’t mean to—”

Jason gave a small shake of his head, looking tired. “It’s fine.”

But as Jason rose to his feet and watched the little girl curl up like a cat on the warm spot he’d made on her mattress, Tim couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d interrupted something deeply personal for Jason. And he knew instantly that it was a type of intimacy that Tim had never shared with Jason, even with how close they had recently become. Tim had followed him when he was Robin, he’d saved his life, shared his bed… but he did not know the Jason that sang to little kids. Perhaps Bruce had caught glimpses of that Jason years ago, but Jason made sure that no one else did nowadays.

He closed the cell door quietly and locked it, not looking at Tim when he said, “Let go. It’ll be awhile yet before the guards return Mrs. Stafford to her cell and longer till we know if the doctor will cooperate.”

“Doctor Stafford began work this afternoon. I brought the finished blueprints with me if you’d like to look over them together.” It was dark again when Tim was able to tell Ra’s the news and Tim realized he had passed the whole day away without seeing the light of day. Most of his time had been spent hanging around the lower levels of the compound where the cells were situated and the rest of the time perched on a stool under the fluorescent lights watching Mr. Stafford start his work. Getting to see the blueprints before Ra’s, though, had been well worth it. At least now he knew the size of the device and it’s potential range of effect.

Ra’s smile was genuinely gleeful, but that did nothing to calm Tim. “I told you Jason would do what needed to be done.”

“I guess we won’t know until that actually happens. The wife was the one to convince the doctor. We sent her in to talk to him and whatever she said must have worked. I’d be careful not to mistreat her if she has that much persuasion on her husband.”

“I believe you’re right. We should reward the woman. Tomorrow I’ll tell the guards to put her child in a cell with her.”

“That’s awfully nice of you.” said Tim, but then realized that though the mother and daughter would be together it could not distract them from the fact that they were still locked in a cell. Just like me and Jason, he thought, two prisoners locked together in this compound. We’re no freer than they are.    

“I told you I can be a lenient man, Timothy. I knew that it upsetted you to keep them apart, so I’m easing your conscience now that you’ve come through for me. “ Ra’s smiled. “But, I believe that one favor should be repaid with another and it is past time that we sealed our agreement.”

Of course he did, for Ra’s never did anything that was not in his favor. He took Tim’s hand. Tim allowed himself to be lead towards the bed. His mind already detaching itself to reside within memories of last night. His memory of the night was still fresh and it took no effort at all of pretend that the hands removing his clothing were Jason’s, wrinkled because he’d just gotten out of the shower instead of from old age. The stubble that rubbed Tim’s neck and chin raw was the beard that Jason had grown during his time here.

With thoughts of Jason’s muscular form in his mind, of him flexing over Tim as Jason panted and whispered his name in Tim’s ear, Tim’s body did not betray him. Neither did his words as a different man than the one in his mind thrusted within him. Tim dug his teeth firmly into his bottom lip, blocking off the name that threatened to pass from his lips, knowing it would condemn him if Ra’s were to hear it during such an intimate moment. His heart pounded in the same frantic beat as Ra’s own when the older man collapsed on the bed next to him, but for an entirely different reason.

Ra’s pulled Tim’s back against his chest, his arm firm against Tim’s torso. “You were just as beautiful as I’d thought you’d be, Beloved.”

Tim’s eyes closed tightly. He pressed his face deeper into the pillow under his head, his mind already thinking of another place to inhabit for the rest of the night. He thought back to the low croon of Jason’s voice bringing the sound of it into the front of his mind and trying to recall the words.

“I’ll look forward to having you at my side when we strike New York.”

Tim’s eyes flashed open, all thoughts of Jason vanishing from his head at Ra’s words.

“New York?” he asked, hurrying to turn around in the small room Ra’s embrace allowed.

When he came face to face with Ra’s, the older man smiled and shrugged. “You had been asking where the target was, weren’t you? New York City. We’re going to plant the weapon inside the UN.”

Tim swallowed around a suddenly dry throat. “We’re going to attack the UN.”

And once again Tim went another night without sleep.

[wizardsnwookies]

POTA110818 - The Coming Flood

Aching memories of wounds soothed themselves over a warm fire while cautious eyes continued to glance over at the bound woman sat upon a large flat stone. Her shattered knee had been repaired to the best of Dion’s ability, though the lingering pain would keep her from making any sort of movement for hours now. Still, it was best to take precautions and keep her secured with hempen bindings. Inside Banshae’s mind, ideas swirled. Things she could not explain. All she knew was that the prisoner was by no means to be harmed. They would be questioned, treated with honor and respect as a captive of war, and then released unscathed. That was how it was to be. She didn’t know why, that’s just the way it was supposed to be.

“I will question her.” Finally she stood, brushing dust off her trousers. Across the fire, Miv and Dion stood in turn, the former with a look of suspicion and concern upon his face.

“I would like to sit in if it is agreeable to you?” Dion was far more polite about his approach, or was at least better about hiding any concerns.

“Same.” Miv didn’t wait for permission, already making strides to the strange cultist in their midst. Banshae fell alongside quickly, taking a firm tone of voice.

“She is not to be harmed. Is that understood? I will suffer no torture or abuse of captives. We will question her and she is free to leave.”

“I have no objections to that.” Miv felt his tension relieve itself somewhat. He still didn’t know Banshae all that well, although now he certainly knew more than he did. She seemed to be living up to her proclamations as a soldier of honor. At least that much was agreeable to him.

The young woman watched with an icy stare, darkened bags underneath her sunken eyes. She watched as Banshae slowly lowered her massive frame into a crouch before her. The Dragonborn was both imposingly large, but impressivly lithe at the same time. Silvers, second only to Gold dragons, seemed to have an elegance about their movements that hid the power they lie within.

“Who are you?” Banshae began simply, not knowing where else to start.

“A child of the coming wave, that is all that matters.” The young woman shrugged.

“Fair enough. First of all, I want you to know that you are in no danger of harm here. We merely ask for information given freely. Once we are done, you are free to go. However, I must warn you that the current path we walk may very well cross with that of your group again...in which case if you choose to return to them, I cannot guarantee your saftey upon next meeting.”

“My life matters not. I am merely a pawn in a much greater game. A game that you will surely lose.”

“Indoctrinated nonsense...” Miv muttered to himself.

“That symbol you wear upon your breast.” Dion gestured with a nod of his head, his voice quiet and calm. Comforting almost. “We have seen others like it. What can you tell us about them?”

“I cannot speak for the others, nor would I lower myself to dignify them.” The woman spat at the ground, her energies were starting to return to her as she spoke. As if merely discussing her faith was enough to fill her with life.

“I can only speak of the Great Crushing Wave that comes to cleanse this world and all unworthy that dwell upon it. This great day is coming, and on that day, only her children will be granted life upon the new Eden.”

Dion frowned. Dark words, and at that the second prophetic vision of some upcoming disaster. The Lord of Lance rock saw it, now these cultists. “And you wish to help usher in this new day?”

“YES.” She answer emphatically, and without hesitation.

“By attacking random strangers?” Banshae cut in.

“You were an opportunity, trespassing upon our lands. Only the priests can speak of their work in ushering in the Great Crushing Wave.” The woman sank back, almost sheepishly. It was as if she was ashamed of her lower status within the group, angry she was limited to such mundane things and not privy to the greater inner workings.

“Would that work happen to require specific individuals? Perhaps, individuals of high status?”

“You’d have to ask the priests.” She was getting more defiant now, her answers shorter, more curt and dismissive.

“Your priest fled, leaving you behind.” Miv pointed out. “No much of a leader if you ask me.”

“As I said, I am merely-”

“ ‘-a pawn in a much greater game.’ Yeah, we heard you the first time.” Exasperated, Miv let his hands fall to his side and turned on a heel towards Dion. Taking the hint for a regrouping, Banshae stood and joined them a few paces away for privacy sake.

“What do you expect to get out of this one?”

“I was hoping more than this.” Banshae sighed. “But I fear you might have a point, this one is too far gone to get anything useful out of.”

“This is what I was talking about, the abuse of power. The wrong person in charge of a faith and you get people like this, little more than empty shells regurgitating mindless rhetoric.”

“I’m not concerned about this Crushing Wave, it’s the Black Earth that unnerves me.” Banshae cast a glance back at the bound woman who had taken to adjusting herself to a more comfortable position on the stone. She wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon she figured.

“Attacking random interlopers is one thing, that’s little more than bravado, a sword measuring contest. The ones that took the delegates, they had a purpose. If all they wanted was gold they would have slain everything on that caravan and taken what they pleased. There’s a darker purpose going on there.”

“At least that we can figure out. You can’t predict what you call ‘bravado.’ These are irrational zealots, dangerous, I wouldn’t cast them aside so easily.”

“We could argue this all day.” Dion finally stepped in, although he appreciated the thoughtful debate it was not a prudent venture at this moment in time. The hour was growing late, and they would need all the sun they could get in the following day to find their way.

“I suggest we call it an evening. When do we release our friend here?”

“In the morning, just on the off chance she decides to come back with more of her comrades.” Banashae was already moving to collect her bedroll and blanket for the captive. For some reason she couldn’t discern, she got the feeling she had many nights of sleeping unprotected with her squad behind her, one more night wouldn’t kill her.

Buy Me a Coffee

[tywriteskpop]

Awakening (SB Sequel Mark Tuan)-Chapter 4

Genre: Fluff, Angst Warnings: Some language and violence

“What gave it away?” Park asked smugly. He circled around Mark, not sparing so much as a glance towards the young prince.

Mark felt a bead of sweat slide down the side of his face. It was cold, the torches doing nothing to warm his frigid body. But his anxiety gave way to fear as he panted softly, trying to hide his true feelings from the enemy before him.

“Asking about a one-time customer?” Mark scoffed. “A year after they were there? You couldn’t have been more obvious.”

Park chuckled as he came back into Mark’s line of sight. “I suppose that was rather obvious. But hey, you figured it out.”

Mark shifted, the chains restraining him rattling above his head from the slight movement. He winced from the ache in his arms but kept a defiant face as he glowered at Park. “This is the part where you tell me what started your evil plot. You know, like all the good villains do before the heroes shut them down.”

“I’d watch your tone if I were you, Your Highness. You’re not exactly in any position to be smart with me.” As if to prove his point, the man placed a hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “I believe I have the upper hand.”

Mark became frustrated, wracking his brain to think of any idea to free his best friend. But his irritation grew as he searched Jackson’s emotionless eyes for a sign of recognition. It was useless, he quickly realized, for all he saw was the pitch blackness in his friend’s blank stare.

“I have to say, Jackson made it quite easy for me to get my hands on him,” Park continued. “He practically delivered himself to me. He came here looking for Jinyoung, and instead found me. Now he’s my puppet, helpless to fight against me, vulnerable from fighting the shadows for so long.”

“Here?” Mark repeated softly. Where was here?

“You haven’t figured that out yet?” Park chuckled.

Mark huffed. “So that’s it? Jackson’s your plan?”

“Not quite.”

A rush of wind caught Mark off guard as a swarm of shadows whirled around him. He instinctively closed his eyes, feeling his hair whip against his forehead. The shrill sound of wind and white noise filled the prince’s ears. In his vulnerable state, he felt his fear grow. He was afraid to open his eyes even after the gust died down, leaving the room in complete silence. After taking in a deep breath, Mark hesitantly opened his eyes.

The sight before him made his heart further drop into his stomach. His eyes moved between the two newcomers, a sense of dread filling him as he realized their eyes were the same as Jackson’s. Emotionless, blank, pitch black voids of nothing.

“Your friends tried so hard to save them,” Park said. He circled around the ravens, a gleam of victory shining in his eyes. “My collection is almost complete.”

Mark didn’t have a good feeling from the way Park spoke. He could no longer mask the fear he was feeling. His stomach was rolling over itself, and he felt like he was going to be sick.

Park smirked, satisfied at finally witnessing the prince’s vulnerability. “Yes, my collection is not quite complete yet. You see, now that you purified your nuisance of a brother, I can no longer collect him as my vessel. He can’t be corrupted like before. Quite unfortunate that my puppet was taken away from me.” He short another sly grin towards Mark. “But there are other pure magic users.”

“Don’t you dare touch her,” Mark growled. He breathed heavily through his nose as his anxiety grew.

“Or what, Your Highness?” Park chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I’m not after your pathetic princess. She holds great power, yes, but she is useless. Her magic is not yet primed at its full potential. I made that mistake with Jinyoung. The princess is nothing more than trash for me to walk on.” Park walked around the ravens to settle in front of Mark, towering over the seething boy. “But you were blessed by a pure born, Your Highness.”

Mark stiffened and craned his neck back, looking up to see the malicious intent in the man’s eyes. The prince had never felt as small as he did in that moment.

After the loud clash behind the door faded, Mark stood in the silent hall motionlessly. He gasped and released the breath he was holding when he heard Jinyoung’s angry cry of anguish. Then he was left in a chilling silence, feeling his heart tearing apart with the guilt he felt at having to leave the only family he had left. He was leaving his brother to rule on his own while he himself travelled to another kingdom to marry a princess he didn’t know.

Mark told himself he had to leave. It’s what his mother wanted, for him to marry the princess. It’s what would keep Jinyoung safe. His eyes burned as he held back tears of frustration. He wanted so bad to tell his little brother the real reason why he was leaving sooner than expected, but he couldn’t. It would only put him in danger.

“It’s for the best, I assure you.”

Mark didn’t look up. He took a breath and closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself down. “You’re sure this evil you speak of will follow me?” the prince asked. “Jinyoung will be safe here?”

The queen’s advisor nodded despite Mark not seeing him. “I swear on the queen’s legacy. Prince Jinyoung will be protected. I will watch over him myself in your absence.”

Mark nodded. “You are to send for me should anything happen. Do not hesitate. His safety comes above all else.” The prince walked away, putting up a façade of confidence in which he felt distraught.

He did not see the malicious grin spread across the advisor’s face. “Of course, Your Highness.”

You silently swept up the broken glass on the floor with mechanical movements. A light breeze passed through the broken window and brushed your hair to the side. You were so lost in your thoughts and worries that you barely felt it.

Your brothers were with Jinyoung in the kitchen, discussing a plan to save Mark and the others. You felt useless and opted out of the meeting. Even knowing of your immense power that you supposedly possessed, you could barely use it to its full potential. If you could just have a better understanding of your pure magic, maybe you could do something. Maybe you could save your beloved and your brother.

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud clatter from the kitchen. The sound of something scraping against the floor was followed by the sound of struggling. You heard the youngest of your brothers shout, and that was enough for you to drop the broom and run towards the noise.

Upon entering the kitchen, you froze in the doorway, taking a moment to observe the commotion you walked in on. A dining chair had been knocked over, laying on its back, and the dining table in the corner of the room was pushed away from its normal placement, light skid marks staining the floor. BamBam had Jinyoung by the collar of his shirt, gripping tightly at the cloth between his fingers. Jinyoung grunted as your brother shoved him against the wall. BamBam’s eyes shone with pure rage, and Youngjae’s attempts to make him release Jinyoung proved to be useless.

“Say that again, you bastard,” BamBam growled.

“What is going on here?” you demanded.

Youngjae turned to find you walking toward them, your eyes wide and almost angry. He spared you a helpless look before trying to pry BamBam’s hands off Jinyoung once more.

“Our loved ones are in the hands of the enemy,” you reminded them. “And you sit here and fight amongst yourselves!”

“He said we should be ready to fight Jackson,” BamBam seethed. He didn’t take his furious gaze off your former enemy.

Jinyoung remained calm, albeit wincing slightly as your brother’s grip tightened. “You must be prepared should he have fallen under Park’s shadows,” he said. “I only meant for you to mentally brace yourself for the inevitable.”

BamBam slammed Jinyoung against the wall again. “You son of a-”

“BamBam, stop!” you shouted. Your brother paused before letting go of his captive and turning to you. He wasn’t used to you yelling at him like that. “Maybe he’s right,” you said, your voice trembling.

“Y/N, what the hell are you saying?” he asked, shocked at your pessimism. “Are you seriously agreeing to fight Jackson? Our brother?”

“Of course not!” you shot back. “But you cannot deny the possibility that Park has taken over his mind. Just look at what he’s done to Mark and Jinyoung.”

“She’s right,” Youngjae said. He clapped a hand onto BamBam’s shoulder and gripped it firmly, holding him in place to make sure the younger boy wouldn’t explode again. “All it took was for Jinyoung to show some kind of weakness, and Park took a hold of him for years. Jackson’s been fighting the shadows all this time. His mind isn’t as strong as it was before. He’s just as vulnerable to Park as the rest of us.”

Jinyoung brushed his shirt and rubbed his collar down. “Park takes pleasure in watching his pawns fight their loved ones. Because of him I killed my brother, more times than I’d like to remember. He won’t hesitate to use Jackson against the rest of you.”

BamBam closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose before exhaling through his mouth in a loud sigh. He turned back to Jinyoung, looking much calmer than before. “I’d rather not burn my brother to a crisp. So how do we get him back to us?”

Jinyoung sent you a wary look before returning his attention to BamBam. “Pure magic.”

The rest of you were silent, taking in what he was implying.

“You mean…” You trailed off, unsure how to put your thoughts into words.

“No way,” BamBam said. “We are not sending Y/N out into a battle like that.”

You looked at him in surprise. “You’re not leaving me here to wonder if I’ll ever see any of you alive again. I’m going to fight with you.”

“Y/N, are you sure you can do this though?” Youngjae asked you carefully. “We’ve been fighting for years. We have experience and training with our magic. This could be more dangerous than you can handle.”

“To hell with it!” BamBam said. “Y/N, I can’t let you go out there.”

As he came to stand in front you, his eyes desperately pleading with you, you sighed. “BamBam, I have to do something. Don’t make me sit here waiting and feeling useless.”

You hoped BamBam would see it from your perspective, but you no longer had the words to convince him. He would have to trust you with what was said, or you would rebel against his desires regardless.

Jinyoung cleared his throat and stepped forward. “I can teach her,” he offered, grabbing the attention of the rest of you. “It won’t be enough time to teach her effectively. But I can at least show her how to use her magic and survive a battle.” He gave an awkward, wry smile. “Perhaps then you’ll have some peace of mind about her fighting the shadows.”

Youngjae patted BamBam’s shoulder in reassurance. “She’ll stay by one of us at all times. We’ll help protect each other. She can do this.”

BamBam ran a hand through his hair as his frazzled mind tried to make sense of the situation. He couldn’t deny that his sister was fierce, and he had no doubt you could hold your own on the battlefield. But he was afraid of losing you again, especially after losing his brother and friend already. He couldn’t bring himself to admit his fear, but he nodded his agreement to the plan after realizing there would be no stopping you. He would just have to keep a close eye on you.

“Fine,” he finally said, making you sigh with relief. “What do we do?”

“We need to figure out where Park is keeping them,” Jinyoung said. “If we bring the fight to him, it could catch him off guard.”

“Wouldn’t we just be rushing into his territory?” Youngjae countered. “Doesn’t really sound like a reassuring plan of victory.”

“Yes, but if we can-” Jinyoung suddenly gasped, a sharp pain rushing through his head. He reached out to grab onto something to catch his fall, but he collapsed to his knees, heaving as the pain in his skull became unbearable.

“What the hell?!” BamBam stepped back.

You dropped to your knees in front of the pained boy and held onto his shoulders, trying to give him some kind of comfort. “What’s wrong with him?” you asked hastily. Your gaze shot up to Youngjae. “Do something!”

Youngjae came back to his senses and hurried to kneel beside you. His hand glowed blue as he placed it over Jinyoung’s forehead. “He’s burning up,” your brother said, focusing on his magic’s healing properties.

Before any of you could get another word out, Jinyoung fell limp. You realized he was unconscious, his face contorted in pain. Sweat covered his forehead and the back of his neck. Whatever caused his sudden pain was no coincidence, you knew this.

Mark groaned as he took another punch to his stomach. He held onto the chains restraining him with an iron grip, trying to bear the pain the wracked his body. He lost track of how much time had passed since his torture began. It’s been hours, that he was sure of. He wondered how he had not lost consciousness yet as the ravens were commanded to beat him until he relented. The moment he gave up and showed his weakness, he knew Park would overpower him like he did Jinyoung.

“I’m impressed by your resolve, Your Highness,” Park mused. He leisurely paced around the small dungeon as the prince wretched out a string of coughs, small drops of blood splattering on the floor below him. “Your strength to defy me outmatches your insolent brother’s. I must applaud you.”

Panting heavily, Mark raised his head weakly to glare up at Park. “Well isn’t that a shame,” he choked out, his voice rough and scratchy from the several times he ended up dry heaving from each blow to his abdomen.

“Cocky, as always,” Park muttered. “You know, your father was a pain to deal with as well.”

Mark remained silent. He knew nothing about his father. Jinyoung never mentioned him, and he never saw his father in his dreams or memories.

Park smirked at the boy’s silence. “Ah, you must not remember him. I understand. His life ended when you were but a small child. Why, I believe Jinyoung was still in the womb when your pathetic father lost his life.”

Mark balled his fist around the chain holding him up, feeling his nails dig into the palm of his hand. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to drown out Park’s voice. He couldn’t believe anything Park said at this point. He didn’t want to believe.

The boy felt someone grab his hair by the roots and pull his head back, making him cry out at the pain. Gritting his teeth, he opened his eyes and saw Jaebum standing above him with an expressionless face. Jaebum forced Mark to look at Park.

“It’s story time, Your Highness,” Park said. “I suggest you pay attention. Anyway, as I was saying…Yes, your dear father King Philip. The whole kingdom wept at the news of his sudden passing. It was quite easy to lure him away from the castle. A false cry for help from a neighboring kingdom, and he jumped at the chance to aid. He wasn’t expecting a shadow person to pierce him through and destroy his convoy.”

Mark breathed heavily through his nose. “You killed him.”

“Of course I did,” Park gloated, holding his arms out proudly. “And the best part? His advisor had made the journey with him. It was simple! Take the identity of the advisor and return to the kingdom as the sole survivor. Deliver the news of the king’s death to the queen and be at her side as she rules. Over time, poor Queen Briar became ill.”

“You poisoned her,” Mark realized, trying to pull away from Jaebum. But the raven held on without moving a muscle. Mark wasn’t sure if Jaebum was just that strong, or if he was just that weak.

“Indeed I did,” Park said, nodding victoriously. “Your mother was a real thorn in my sister’s side. Several years before you were even conceived, my sister sought revenge on your ancestors and used your mother to accomplish it. Tell me, Prince Mark, have you ever heard the story of Sleeping Beauty?”

Mark furrowed his brows, confusion passing over him. “A fairy tale,” he said.

Park smirked. “All fairy tales come from somewhere, Your Highness.”

Jaebum let go of Mark and the prince fell forward, his arms straining over him as the chains caught him to stop his fall. As he grunted through the aches in his shoulders, he slowly began to comprehend what Park said. And as Park saw the realization cross over Mark’s face, he clapped slowly.

“Congratulations, Your Highness. You’ve figured it out! Your mother, Queen Briar Rose, the maiden who fell under the sleeping curse. Quite ironic, isn’t it? That your dear Princess Y/N shared the same fate. Only she slept for hundreds of years, trapped in a crystal.”

“My mother?” Mark repeated. “Then…Your sister-”

“My sister was a fool,” Park sneered. “She let her jealousy cloud her judgment and turned the kingdom against us. I was guilty by association, you see, and I despised her for being of my blood. But nonetheless, she was my kin, so the moment I discovered your blasphemous father killed her, I knew I had to take a page out of her book and take my revenge.

“I killed Philip, poisoned the queen until she took her final breath. All that was left were the children. You were useless to me, but your brother held a great power that I wanted for myself. I knew I had to separate you two to get my hands on him. So I played my role as the queen’s advisor and convinced you that your departure from the kingdom needed to happen quickly. All it took was threatening Jinyoung’s life.”

“You bastard,” Mark coughed out.

Park ignored Mark and continued. “It was a simple plan. Feed Jinyoung’s negativity with shadows until he fell under their influence. But I was a fool. I had not accounted for the possibility that his pure magic would lock itself away to defend against the shadows. And because he still possessed that pure magic within his body as a pure born, he did not fall completely under my control. My puppet had his own agenda, influenced by the dark power that the shadows gave him. So I set my sights on the princess. And well, you know how that turned out.”

Mark’s head drooped. He felt sick. He was tired. Learning of his parents’ past and their untimely deaths at the hands of a crazed man seeking revenge had drained any energy he had left. He wasn’t sure if he could hold out much longer.

“Well, Your Highness, while I enjoyed reliving all the good times with you, I must go to take care of a few things.” Park waved his hand and the ravens closed in around Mark. “Try not to hold out much longer. We need you to lead the army.”

As Park left the room, the boy lurched forward after Yugyeom kicked his back. The ravens continued with their torture, heeding to Park’s commands. Mark knew he wouldn’t last. He had to get a message to Jinyoung. He had to warn them.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on his brother. He would send him the warning the same way Jinyoung did. And as he took blow after blow, his frail body bruised and beaten, he released a choked sob.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Jinyoung stood alone, turning in every direction to observe the wasteland around him. He faintly recognized this place, his former home. The castle in the distance was the place he lived in, where he grew up with his brother and mother. It was crumbling in the same fashion as Y/N’s, except its walls still stood strong. The torchlight in the windows indicated someone still resided here.

The doors to the castle creaked open, years of rust making them open slowly. As they opened wide and halted, Jinyoung was met with silence. The boy swallowed thickly as his nervousness grew. He didn’t know what would emerge from behind the doors, but he knew it would not be pleasant.

He suddenly heard a soft whistling, mixed with white noise and faint shrieks of wind. It got louder as the seconds ticked by, and the boy braced himself. And when the source of the shrill sounds finally emerged from within the castle, Jinyoung realized that he was witnessing what could only be described as a nightmare.

Hundreds of shadows fell out of the castle doorway, circling around him and rolling over each other. The sheer amount of them filled the empty land around him. It was an army, and Jinyoung felt pure fear run through his veins. He looked up and saw the outline of a city. The massive army of shadows was congregating in the direction of the tall buildings and busy streets.

Jinyoung suddenly knew he was dreaming. This was a warning.

Jinyoung gasped as he awoke with a start. His eyes shot open as he panted, and he realized he was still inside Mark’s shared apartment. The boy gulped and closed his eyes again, trying to calm himself down after what he had seen.

“Are you alright?”

He opened his eyes again and saw you sitting on a chair next to the couch he laid on. He nodded shortly and rubbed his face.

“What the hell happened, man?” BamBam asked. He stood nearby with Youngjae.

“You’ve been out cold since last night,” Youngjae added.

Jinyoung sat up and looked at the clock, realizing several hours had passed. “I was forced unconscious,” he said.

“By who?” you asked. “How is that possible?”

“Mark,” Jinyoung answered. “He manipulated my dream the same way I did you. It was a warning.”

Youngjae leaned forward. “A warning of what? Is he okay?”

Jinyoung shook his head. “Our time is shorter than we expected. Park is creating an army of shadows. He’ll send them here, to the city.”

“That son of a bitch is crazy enough to attack innocent humans?” BamBam asked. “They’re no threat to him!”

“Park only wants power,” Jinyoung told him. “By attacking those people he thinks we’ll give up. He’ll have power over all of us once that happens.”

“We can’t let him do this,” you said. “Those people have no magic. They’re defenseless!”

“We’ll have to rely on our instincts,” Youngjae said. “Y/N, you especially. We don’t have time for Jinyoung to teach you like we wanted. If Mark sent that warning, that means it’s happening soon.”

“And we still have no idea if they’re okay,” BamBam said. He groaned in frustration. “Did he at least tell you where they are?”

“The castle Mark and I grew up in.” Jinyoung stood up and wiped the sweat from the back of his neck. “But Y/N and I are the only ones who stand a chance against these things.”

“He’s right. The shadows don’t fall to normal magic users like us,” Youngjae said.

“No, but we can at least hold them off from civilization,” BamBam countered. “We can dance around with the shadows while you find Park and use that pretty little knife you got. It’s the only way to kill him, right?”

You nodded. “If we defeat him, the army will vanish.”

“And then we’ll have a chance to save our friends,” BamBam concluded.

Jinyoung shared a look with Youngjae and nodded. “We’re too short on time to try to think of anything else. We have our plan.”

You took a breath and mentally prepared yourself. “Then let us go to war.”

[freezepride]

Brains, Brawn, and Persuasion

Characters: Zexion, Lexaeus, Even (Vexen)

Rating: G

Description: Even’s time has run out and he must decide. Does he repeat the sins of his past and side with the darkness to save the child he raised, or does he side with the light and abandon everything he has ever known?

Author’s Note: This is an idea that got way out of hand, but was sparked by @queenofbaws‘s wonderful work. You can find it here. The basic premise of the story is that Ienzo has been turned into a vessel of darkness and is trying to enlist the help of Vexen once again.

Lexaeus duly noted the neatness of the labs as he entered, the strange sense of preparation that pervaded his surroundings. There was a tension that Even held in his shoulders as he always tended to when he expected the worst, as thought the blow would come at him from behind. When Lexaeus finally came to collect Even from his quarters, he had not expected to find him in this state. The elder scientist had never responded well to surprises, and while the introduction of Zexion back into their lives had been anything but pleasant, it seemed to be hitting the aged scientist rather hard. 

Zexion’s golden eyes still burned in the Guardian’s memory, feeling all too painful and vivid as if this were all some nightmare from which he could not awaken from. But that shock and horror had receded soon after he had allowed the darkness back into his life. It felt all too familiar to him, playing at the edges of his memories, making his choice seem all the more substantial, logical.The black cloak he had worn from his days as Lexaeus still fit him like a glove, his movements still felt practiced and smooth, as though begging him to push the limits of the new power that was still now growing within him, like the beautifully constructed weapon that he knew he truly was.

It would be easy to break Even. One firm blow would do the trick. He reached out, trying not to think of the amount of force it would take to snap the slender man in half.

“You were always too soft with him.” Even whispered, his voice so tense and tight it boarded on trembling.

Lexaeus paused, his brow knitting as his hand hovered over Even’s shoulder. The scientist turned around stiffly to face him, his long lab coat hanging loosely around his thin frame as if it were a billowing robe. He stared up at Lexaeus with wide, bloodshot eyes, which seemed to eerily offset the poison green of his iris. His lips were drawn into a fine line and his usually neat, straight hair was sticking out at odd angles that seemed so very much unlike him.

“Don’t you dare touch me.” Even hissed. He stepped stiffly around the guard and headed for the doorway to his labs before Lexaeus could guide him through. “I’m headed too see your master. I’m certain that was what you were sent here for, correct?” He continued, the words sounding biting and caustic, but his tone was so tight that it sounded just as uncomfortable to say as it was to hear.

Even was jittery, borderline twitchy when he found Zexion lounging in the study, surrounded by choice selection of literature. The sunlight filtered through the windows, casting it’s golden rays gently on the young man’s face as he lazily flipped a page, and then another as Even made his way forward. He glanced up from his volume after a long moment, seeming only to just notice the shadow that the scientist and the guardian casted as they entered. He quirked a brow at Even, an expectant smile playing at his lips. He shook his head slowly, clearly relishing in the fact that the elder man had clearly not had a wink of sleep in what seemed like three days since he had first revealed his true alignment. Zexion did not think that Nobodies were capable of genuine pleasure, but this current predicament was getting extremely close. There was nothing more amusing that watching a man backed into a corner by fear and logic.

“Do you need more time, Even?” He murmured, carefully dog-earing the top of his current page before he glanced up to Even with those amber colored eyes. “I can speak with the Superior about it, if need be, but really, I’m beginning to rethink my opinion of you. You’re making this so very tedious.” He yawned.

“You said ‘Brains, Brawn and Persuasion’, correct?” Even cut in, the words readily waiting on the tip of his tongue.

Zexion blinked at the interruption, his lazy smile fading slightly as he peered at his former mentor. “What did you-?”

“Brains, Brawn and Persuasion. You stated it as being our ‘tour-de-force’ in our previous conversation, correct?” Even speedily added before looking to Zexion expectantly,

Zexion visible golden eye narrowed dangerously, sensing a trap in these words. It annoyed him even more to see that the annoying habit of interrupting him in the middle of answering a question was still something Even felt the need to do. Feeling remarkably childish, he finally answered. “Yes, that was what we discussed before.”

“Precisely!” Even cried, his impossibly bright eyes widening just a hint as he stepped toward Zexion. “You would never keep me alive unless you needed something from me. This isn’t about respect, or even about power. This is about having a full package, the full fighting force. You claimed to be able to make this transition back to darkness without me, but you’ve lied.” Even continued softly, almost to himself, trembling under the weight of his realizations. He glanced around the room, as if making calculations in mid air. “They don’t need you, unless you have a truly powerful force to offer them in return.” He finished, his eyes searching the air before him for answers before they settled back on Zexion with a pointed interest. Zexion lifted himself up from his chair, the dark energy around him was palpable, overwhelming as it radiated off of his form in waves.

“I have my fighting force.” Zexion gestured smoothly to Lexaeus. Even turned to look at the warrior, and Lexaeus stared stonily down at Even, as if waiting for the cue to step in and silence the scientist.

“You should be ashamed of yourself for enabling him.” Even said weakly, watching as the man’s deep royal blue eyes were rimmed with the same amber gold as Zexion’s own. It slowly ate away at his gentle mind, hardening his gaze, making him all but a statue. “But I will save you. I will save both of you. If you won’t step up to the task, I will certainly have to.” Even muttered. His thin hands tightened into fists as he turned his attention back to Zexion only to find that the young man had moved soundlessly to stand directly before him, wearing that same sense of superiority, that same calm impatience that a parent tended to wear when dealing with a particularly petulant child. Even stumbled backwards, nearly knocking into Lexaeus as he gasped in surprise.

“Your time is nearly through,” Zexion whispered, “as is my patience. We don’t need you to gain access to your scientific records.” A slow, wicked smile grew on his smooth face. “I suppose I should be quite thankful that you’ve always been so meticulous. Again, you should be grateful that I am even extending this honor to you.”

Even reached into his pocket and fumbled with a small sleek looking white, remote. When he finally found it, he gave Zexion a mad look of triumph before pressing on the button.

The entire castle quaked beneath their feet. Zexion snapped his attention to Lexaeus who glared beneath him, trying to peer into the earth and figure out exactly what was happening within their own domain. “The labs, they’ve shut down. The entrance is gone.“ Lexaeus murmured, looking more confused as he sensed the earth beneath them shifting and rearranging itself.

“Collapsed. I placed the explosives myself.” Even added, the hand clutching the remote was shaking as his grip on it tightened. “No one can access it now. Not you, not your violent pawn, not even me!” Even said, nodding to each of them in turn.

“You would destroy your life’s work?” Zexion hissed, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“You have no idea the lengths I would go.” Even did not back down this time. He stared at those molten gold eyes, leveling himself with Zexion as he did so and glancing back and forth as if trying to find some shred, some semblance of humanity left in him. “I failed Ienzo once, I’m not going to do so a second time.”

“It’s already too late-”

“Bullshit. Your flair for the dramatic is getting the best of you, Ienzo. You can’t hide from me.”

Zexion flinched, his expression caught somewhere between disdainful and angry. Even gave him a tired smile before stepping back once again. Zexion frowned, glaring venomously at the older man. “I gave you the choice before as an act of respect. Now that I see that my time has been wasted, I’m sure that my counterpart would be happy to force you to join our side.”

Lexaeus took hold of Even’s arm, but before he could even make another move, Even had his other hand placed at the back of his own neck. “I’ll kill myself!” He cried, glancing up at the mountain of a man, his face frozen in fear and anger as both of his hands trembled.

An ironic, yet confused smile formed on Zexion’s face as he quirked a brow at the scientist. “Even, stop being so ridiculous.”

“If I die, the information dies with me. If I activate this last explosive,” he tapped at the back of his neck, below the curtain of straight, pale blond hair, “the data, the findings, and all of the results are gone to you. I’m the last one who could hope to even read such a thing.” He was breathing heavily as he spoke, glancing from Lexaeus to Zexion and then back, as if hoping to tear his arm away from the larger man’s grasp but knowing that such a struggle was futile.

Zexion tilted his head, considering the two of them with unblinking focus. A smile still seemed to play at his lips as he considered his next move. “You’ve planned ahead, haven’t you, Even?”

“It’s only to be expected when one has to face off against a tactician and a warrior. One may say I needed to properly use their brains.” Even frowned deeply as he responded.

“Quite. Well, Lexaeus, it seems we’ve been outmaneuvered for now.” He said with a small shrug and a pitying smile. “Let the poor, old man go.”

Even felt the stony grip on his arm ease up. Hastily, he stumbled back from the duo, watching as Zexion turned around once again to peer out the window, the sunlight making those golden eyes twinkle with it’s final rays. “I’ll be magnanimous with you, my former mentor. I’ll give you a head start. Go ahead, flee and try to save your precious Ienzo. I don’t suppose it has ever really  occurred to you that he never really wanted to be saved in the first place?” Zexion laughed softly. “For one so intelligent, you’ve never been able to see the truth past your own foolish preconceptions.”

“Ienzo is not a monster.” Even whispered, backing away to the door.

“Perhaps he would prefer to be.” Zexion shot back, venomously. “Lexaeus, give Even a bit of time to escape. I know for a fact his explosives cannot stay active forever, it will cease to function after a few hours. The moment it does, he is yours to do with as you will.” He reached out a hand and patted Lexaeus fondly on the arm. “I know how you’ve been waiting for this chance. Just make sure to bring him back to me alive. Understood?”

Lexaeus nodded in confirmation. Even was standing in the doorway now, his hand on the wooden threshold as he stared back in disbelief and tried to keep himself from trembling in fear. Lexaeus was going to be hunting him down. He should have expected such a turn of events, but the thought of him even being a target for the enormously powerful man was more than Even could stomach. The warrior glanced at Even, the royal blue of his eyes nearly gone now as deep amber glowed in it’s place. His stony expression revealed nothing, but there seemed to be a tension in his entire body, ready to pounce the second that Even’s time elapsed.

Fear dropped into the pit of his stomach, running up his spine and freezing him as if those eyes held him in place. He labored over his breathing as he tried to find some semblance of sanity beyond the terrified thought of Lexaeus coming for him, a being of pure and unbridled power and remarkable cunning all focused on catching Even off guard. Strangely enough, he would have preferred the thought of Zexion being his primary adversary, but to know that Lexaeus was going to be in his stead was harrowing.

Even tore his eyes away from his former companion, glancing at his wristwatch before sprinting down the hallway to the hanger. He had a few precious hours, and he could afford to waste none of it. He needed to escape this castle as soon as he possibly could and travel by space ship would be the most effective method. Those golden eyes glimmered in the back of his mind, all the while he grasped at his precious, happy memories of Aeleus and Ienzo, solidifying his will.

He would achieve his goal. He would save them both. He would not fail.

[snarkyelf]

Ramblings from questions while I piece together Frederique’s nephew’s profile. Dunno why I’m putting it here but whatever. (Yes, I’m keeping Shiomi but I still want to play and elf boi... and I’m totally inspired by Lan WangJi from Mo Dao Zu Shi.)

Read if you’re bored? *shrugs* WIP/subject to change

1. Who are you?

“My name is Laure Sombremont,” a long pause follows, his voice deep yet soft, like waves hitting shore on a calm winter’s night. It’s measured and thoughtful, but just as easily background noise--forgotten. “I was born in the slums, my mother a desperate noble forced into prostitution after my grandfather. He sold the rights to the estates in a bad hand with Garlean nobles who were much more affluent than he. My younger brother, although deeply loved, was born as a bargaining chip that relieved us of the streets.”

Another pause follows, as if so many words all at once is a strain. His face is gently passive--a long chin and high cheekbones--and his eyes stare off as he considers his next words. “Mother became a low ranking mistress to my brother’s father. She did what she thought was best and had me safely sent off to a military academy. A few years later my brother joined me.

“While I did well in school with drills and grades, my brother faltered. I did my best to look after him, for I loved him dearly, but I still do not believe he was ever a strong enough spirit to withstand the army training.”

Larue pauses for breath and consideration. Those distant eyes of greenish-blue are filled with years of mourning. “I loved my brother,” he repeats, so softly that it’s near a whisper. “But the Garlean Military did not.

“His first mission was under my command...” Silence reigns for several minutes as dig into Laure’s consciousness. “It was also his last. There will never be a day I do not blame myself for what happened to him.”

2. What are you strongest motivations?

Laure is very still, back straight like a rod while his hands lay one over the other in his lap. He’s modestly tall, even for an elezen. “Mother used to tell my brother an I all sorts of wonderful stories about our family. She had a beautiful childhood with four sisters and the male heir the youngest of the lot and only brother.”

There’s a softness to his eyes that one might consider fondness if he actually knew how to smile. “Those stories kept me going, knowing that Mother was always desperately searching for our family and I had the inkling of more loved ones I’ve yet to meet.

“And one day, I did,” a hand reaches up to pinch a lock of black hair from his eyes that escaped his messy ponytail. “After... my brother... after the mission, I was forced on leave and mother found it to be the bold, opportune time to make a break from our slavery to the Empire. Mother claimed she found evidence of one of her sisters. We took hands with my brother’s wife and child, and we ran.

“This was near five years ago, I was almost twenty when I finally felt the warm embrace of my grandmother, and the four aunts and their children.” A small tilt of his head releases that bit of ebony hair back into his eyes. “I might have even cried then.

“We spent a year as Garlean refugees in Kugane when the final family member showed up, my Uncle Frederique baring a false surname Sombremont. He gave us his surname as protection, and offered up his late husband’s estates in Ishgard as our home.

“These days, my motivations stem from the strength I have with my family,” he says this evenly, softly, but his hand gently touches the sword resting at his side. “I have joined the guard and assist in minimizing corruption that could harm the growing peace. With my previous military training, I have been asked to take on missions beyond the walls of Ishgard. It’s for the greater good, and if it protects my family, I will gladly take up the mantle.”

3. What are your hopes and dreams for the future?

“I...” Laure trails off, pondering this deeply before speaking. He has no qualms with awkward silences, his eyes open but not seeing as he considers. “It has been suggested by my cousin to seek out adventure boards with her if I seek to better the environment for my family. I wish to see them thrive in happiness and I have the ability to put myself on the front lines to protect that.

“My missions have put me in Limsa Lominsa to smoke out Garlean sympathizers. It would not hurt my cover to seek the boards.”

The corners of Laure’s lips quick up, although they never turn into a smile. “My family, it seems, has a reputation for associating each child with a flower, and thus every lady of the family has a private perfume created for them. My uncle has begun to suggest purchasing a farm and creating a cosmetic perfume line. I would no be opposed to assisting in a farm, it might be nice to be live in quiet.”

4. What are your biggest fears and/or regrets?

“Forever I will be haunted by the death of my brother. Although I have been told there was no way around it, I was in charge of his mission and thus will always hold it on my shoulders,” these words spill out so easily, as if perhaps it’s a confession always on his heart, but one that takes subterfuge and poison to release it (or an OOC questionnaire).

5. What are your greatest strengths?

“Physically, I am well adept at a wide range of weaponry. I prefer a sword and an honorable fight, although I do not seek it. I would rather the sword be for show of strength. While I am not passive, I am not keen on conflict of any sort...” he pauses, turquoise eyes glancing off to the side.

“Like the argument my sister-in-law continues to push at me,” he barely moves, but there’s a fraction of a pout coming from his lips. “I do love her dearly but I wish she would stop trying to push me on her friends, or suggest ever woman I speak to is a marriage candidate.” He almost sighs, but it’s barely an resigned breath past his lips. “It’s a different upbringing I suppose, and I love her dearly for trying to look out for me but...” Laure closes his eyes as he collects his silent emotions.

6. What are you like socially?

When he opens them again, there’s a small crease of curious frustration between his brows. “I don’t even know if I fancy women. I cannot say they’ve even held any interest for me beyond companion on the battlefield. Although...” his lips thin just a hair. “I am aware that I am comfortable enough with men to find them physically attractive, I have never sought out a relationship with one.”

Laure glances up, eyes bright as if he just realized something profound. “But I am neither an easy person to speak with, therefore if anyone had attempted to court me, I cannot say I would have noticed.

“Easily, I can blend into a crowd of gentlefolk and follow etiquette taught by my mother, but I cannot say that I have an easy time holding a conversation. It.. my brother was the one with the words, I was merely the protector. Without him, I am merely a man with a sword.”

7. What is your role in the story?

“Which brings it to the purpose of all of this; am I a pawn or a knight? I do not play a game of politics, nor do I go where the queen points without question. I listen, I remain quiet, and act when it affords me opportunity to a better peace.”

Laure adjusts his perfectly ironed shirt collar. “I will no fold to frivolities while the Garlean Empire continues to tear families apart. I am a small part of an amazing whole, and I will not rest until I can no longer move. Those were the wishes of my brother, and now the wishes are mine.”

((That was random fun. Laure would be a quiet soldier, possibly a paladin? I could see him being a strong fighter with a keen mind for justice, and little bother for bickering. He’s probably very kind under all the stony exterior.

Laure obviously has a deep love for his family, although he gets weird around his nephew and younger cousins because he doesn’t know what to do with children no matter how much he loves them.

I do want him to be able to magically heal. Although his Garlean heritage wouldn’t have that ability, I could say it’s from his unknown father’s side.))