#don’t ask me how long augustin’s hair is supposed to be I don’t know

[0lympus-mons]

Family Pictures (Sochi, 2014)

[klausysworld]

Your stories are so good!

How about a story where Klaus gets in over his head and ends up being taken captive by Augustine but falls in love with one of the scientist over the time he’s there.

(Made it the scientists daughter, not sure why? I think I read the ask wrong and then just got too deep with it. I can make another one if this wasn’t what was wanted)

(TW:This does include physical and psychological abuse form Y/n’s father! Please don’t read if this will be too upsetting for you and know that you are not alone.)

Betrayal

Klaus often went into dangerous situations without much of a plan, he was immortal and he used that to his every advantage. To be fair to him, this always worked in his favour except for that one time with the hunters curse but other than that it was fine.

Until now.

He woke with a groan, his eyes felt heavy and his body was stiff. Forcefully, he forced himself to look around but his face was against the ground. With a grunt, he managed to roll onto his back. His breathing was struggled and released in puffs. A hum reached his ears and he turned his head slowly to see a man, no a vampire sat in a cage or a prison cell opposite him.

The guys clothes were filthy, bloody and muddy. Hair greasy and growing a touch long. He gave an unserious wave "congratulations, you've been captured" he cheered sarcastically and Klaus frowned. The vampire rolled his eyes "¿no hablas inglés?" he questioned "français? Italiano? Polski?" he fired, clearly bored.

"Where-" Klaus frowned at the dryness of his throat and tried to clear his throat but it caused a painful sensation "Where am I?" he asked, raspily.

"English" the man stated, nodding to himself. "Right uh you are in an experiment where they do fun little tests on us vampires because they have an undying hatred towards us" the man explained, laughing tiredly to himself when he said 'undying'.

Klaus stared at the man like he were mad. "Tests? What sort of tests?" he questioned, frustrated and the vampire shut up. He glanced behind Klaus before back to him nervously

"They're trying to make a serum to make vampires have the uncontrollable urge to feed on other vampires...to rip their heads clean off. Be stronger, unstoppable and filled with hatred for our own" he explained quietly as though someone may be listening. Klaus frowned in response and slowly dragged himself up into a sitting position against the cold wall of his cell.

Vampires who rippered other vampires? It reminded him of his father and he didn't exactly want to think of him. Nor did he want to feel this week, how much vervain had they pumped him full of? He groaned loudly and the other man hummed in agreement.

The sound of a lock went and the vampire opposite Klaus quickly got to his feet, holding onto the bars like a desperate animal.

The soft clicking of heels sounded and the mans face immediately relaxed slightly, his eyes looking eagerly for whoever was coming. Klaus was hit with a strong scent of vanilla before a soft sigh was heard and he could see the back of a women. Her hair hiding her shoulders and the top half of her lab coat. She wore small black heels and a coat.

"You okay?" she asked the guy opposite him, handing him something, blood. He could smell it and he needed it. The vampire scoffed it down immediately with a sound of pleasure.

"mm thank you darling...I don't suppose you have another for me?" he purred but she shook he head

"It's for the new one" she whispered and Klaus's senses perked. She proceeded to turn towards him and her eyes looked him over. Klaus let out a breathy laugh, this was who was supposed to be testing and torturing him? He raised both his brows and licked his chapped lips before pulling them into a smirk. In response she only rolled her eyes "those eyes won't work on many people here" she told him, she placed the paper shot glass of blood onto the floor and carefully pushed it into his cage. "You'll be known by 52836, answer to it or they’ll burn it into you so you remember it" she informed, watching him reach forward and grabbing the drink.

"This is all I get?" he questioned, his nose scrunched and his browed pulled together.

"One a day. None if you misbehave. You'll feel better tomorrow when you have less vervain in your system, until then keep quiet. 12144 will be here with you...get comfortable" she murmured, a certain sadness and level of pity in her eyes as she gave a tight lipped smile to both vampires before leaving.

12144 looked back to Klaus, "You can call me Enzo, she's called Y/n. One of the mean ones daughters, been coming down here since she was small. She doesn't mean much harm but she's too scared to go against the rules" he explained with a shrug "Sometimes she sneaks me two portions if she can. She touched me once, just a hand on the shoulder. I was far too weak to respond but I knew she was there"

Klaus stared at Enzo for a moment before glancing to his now empty cup. What the fuck did he just get himself into?

It was the question he asked himself every morning and every night. To start off with he fought back against the scientists, yelled and screamed demanding to know who they thought they were, making empty threats and hoping his family would find him.

Klaus began to feel a little pathetic, he was hoping? That wasn’t like him. He was strategic and powerful. So he tried to pay better attention. After a few weeks, he was able to understand why Y/n was so obedient. Her father was dreadful. She once suggested that Klaus needed a break after watching blood poor out of his eyes, her father proceeded to grab her and threaten to stick one of the syringes in her neck. She sprinted out the room as soon as she was let go and Klaus couldn’t blame her. It made him think of Mikael and how he would hold a sword against his throat.

He had sympathy for her, empathy too but unfortunately he had to push that aside and instead of help her, he would manipulate her.

He would ask her about the little marks on her skin knowing it was a result of her trying to help him. Enzo would shake his head and occasionally speak up, telling Klaus to leave her be when her discomfort became clear.

“I don’t mean to upset you sweetheart” Klaus murmured, his hand reaching between the bars to brush against her arm making her flinch and pull away. “You don’t deserve to be hurt. I know that, Enz- 12144, knows it too. You’re good and sweet” he told her, his hand reaching to touch her but she wouldn’t let him. “I could help you” he whispered, his eyes flicking to Enzo’s but he just looked annoyed.

Y/n shook her head and left quickly and Enzo sighed. “You shouldn’t do that to her” he mumbled “you’re only making her hopeful”

“I haven’t lied. If she were to let me out then I’d happily slaughter that father of hers. Then she’d be safe” he smile sarcastically

“I wouldn’t let you kill her too. She hasn’t done anything cruel since the first day I met her” Enzo muttered solemnly

“I don’t plan on killing her” Klaus stated simply as he looked down at the extra cup of blood she had given him. He wasn’t sure what he’d do to her but he wouldn’t kill her, scare her maybe but he didn’t really want to kill her.

The two vampires sat back down in their cells. Preparing themselves for the torture to come. Occasionally it wouldn’t come, instead they would hear the sobs of a fear stricken Y/n as she begged the ‘scientists’ to give 12144 and 52836 a day off. It was those moments that made him soften for her.

When she would come down to where they stay with trembling hands and cups of blood.

As she handed the small offering to Klaus, he slid his hand out to grab her wrist gently. She immediately flinched and dropped the blood making her breathing escalate in panic.

“It’s alright” he soothed, pulling her closer to the bars so he could put his other hand on her cheek.

“I’m sorry” she whimpered “I’ll get more”

“It doesn’t matter sweetheart” he murmured, caressing her face gently and wiping the tears away. “I had two cups yesterday anyway” he reminded and she sniffed with a nod. “Come here love, let me hold you” he whispered, tugging her closer despite the shaking of her head a the cry that left her lips. Enzo watched with furrowed brows as Klaus managed to wrap his arms around her. Y/n’s body was pressed against the bars, still shaking as the vampire caressed her back slowly. Klaus looked over her shoulder to Enzo as Y/n melted against him. With hesitancy Enzo nodded and relaxed.

After nearly a full minute, he let her go and watched as her tearful eyes looked at his. Silently she turned around and left, whispering softly to Enzo on her way out.

Said vampire narrowed his eyes at Klaus “What game are you playing with her?” He asked lowly

“We need to get out. She needs to get out. This is how we do it” he mumbles

“Make her trust you and then use her? Like that will help her. You’ll only hurt her more” he sighed and Klaus rolled his eyes, sitting back down on the dirtied floors and shutting his eyes.

Y/n tried not to look him in the eye after that and she went back to pushing the cup of blood towards him instead of handing it to him. He could tell and Enzo could tell that something deeper was wrong. And it was only when it actually happened did they understand what.

It was Klaus’s turn to be shackled down and tested on. What he wasn’t ready for was when one of the scientists came in dragging Y/n by the wrist. He forced her infront of Klaus and shoved a syringe into her hands. She shook her head and begged no but as soon as her father stepped into the room she knew she had to do it. With one devastating look to Klaus, she injected him with the substance.

They made her test his blood and his reactions all afternoon, claiming that it was a good learning opportunity and she should finally get involved in the family business.

By the time she was finished, Klaus couldn’t see nor hear, he was certain for a moment that he was finally dead but eventually he woke a few hours later back in his cell.

After that, Y/n rarely brought them blood, she couldn’t face them. And when she had to face them, it was because she had to hurt them and that was even worse for everyone.

Neither vampire blamed her, they didn’t fight her when she would touch them. They would simply let it happen and internalise as much of their pain as possible so she wouldn’t cry as much.

Occasionally the other scientists would leave and she would immediately try stop their suffering. Asking what she could do. Enzo assure her that it was fine and she would hold his hand for a small while and feed him some water. Klaus would ask her to distract him which always confused her and ended up in a splurge of rambling so that he would be able to focus on something else. The amount of random stories that girl had told him wonder if she was just making them up on the spot but he didn’t mind if she was. Often she would caress his hand or shoulder as she spoke to try and give a sense of comfort.

One day, when Klaus was supposed to still be knocked out, she was in his cell with him. She had been told to clean the blood from the floor so that it wouldn’t smell and not to worry about 52836 because he wouldn’t wake for another hour. They underestimated his strength and the fact that Y/n would try sneak extra blood.

When he woke, his eyes slowly found her. She was down on her knees, scrubbing at the ground with a sponge quickly. It was clear she was on edge. She made it clear when she glanced over to him a few times. Only one of those times did she realise he was looking back at her and when it hit her she froze.

Klaus made sure not to move either, he wasn’t sure if the cage was open or not and he didn’t know if she would scream if he moved too quickly. He watched as she slowly began to stand up, he hesitantly moved his arm out and let his hand touch her ankle. A sound left her mouth as she went still again and watched him wrap his hand around her. “Can you help me sit up?” He asked quietly and reluctantly she nodded.

He let go of her and helped push himself up as much as he could while she supported the majority of his weight. She whispered her apologies as she managed to get him up and leaning against the wall.

“Thank you sweetheart” he whispered, his hand finding hers. She swallowed thickly but held his hand and sat beside him staring at the ground blankly.

Enzo was in the other room, being tested on as usual so Klaus had her to himself for a moment.

His eyes flicked to the lock of the cell, it was open and he knew that if he drained Y/n now that he would make it out. He felt her shuffle a little close to that she could transfer some of her body heat to his, and sighed to himself. Slowly he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “You’re not like them” he whispered, holding her closer.

“I don’t want to hurt you” she whispered sadly and he closed his eyes, cursing himself silently.

“I don’t want to hurt you either” he uttered “I’m sorry” he told her, just before lowering his head and sinking his teeth into her neck. He squeezed his eyes shut to try block out her cry of pain and confusion. Her blood burned down his throat with the vervain she’d ingested but regardless of the toxic herb, he could still feel his strength returning. Her hands desperately tried to push him off, sobs echoing through his cell as he drank. Klaus tried to be a gentle as he could but her squirming made it so difficult.

When her heart began to slow, and her her breathing quietened, he pulled his mouth off. She looked up at him with a look that could only be described as betrayal and fear. Still, he picked her up in his arms and kissed her head “it’ll be okay my love” he whispered, carrying her with him as he pushed the cell gate open. “I’ll be back” he promised, putting her on the ground, ignoring her cries as he went into the torture room.

After draining the three scientists in the room and tearing the shackles off of Enzo, he came back and picked up Y/n. Enzo was furious and took her straight off of Klaus, promising her that he had no idea this was what would happen.

The three of them managed to escape the building and Klaus broke into a random car, beckoning Enzo with Y/n into the back as he managed to get it started.

He glanced in the rear view mirror as Enzo stroked Y/n’s hair while she shook and cried and asked if her father was still alive.

Klaus’s eyes met Enzo’s in the mirror as he stepped on the gas. Neither had any idea what to do now.

[headcanonsandmore]

The Hand of Saint John

Summary:  Tegan Jovanka is in love with Nyssa of Traken. Tegan is convinced that her feelings are not returned. But maybe, on a planet where physical affection is something of a rarity, that initial assessment may just change...

                            Read on FFN.                         Read on AO3.

~~~~~~~~~

‘Hurry up, you two!’

‘We’re almost ready, Doctor!’

Tegan finished lacing up her boots, and grinned at Nyssa, who was stood by the door of their shared room. They could both hear the Doctor grumbling as he headed back up the corridor towards the console room.

‘I still don’t see why you need to dress differently,’ Nyssa said, smiling at the Australian. ‘We’re not going to be walking very far; the nearest settlement is only ten minutes’ walk away.’

‘After what happened last time, I’m not taking any chances.’

‘The Doctor did apologise for that.’

‘A ten mile trek across a stinking bog wasn’t exactly good for my uniform,’ Tegan said, now doing up a warm winter coat. ‘At least this time, I’ll be prepared whatever the weather throws at us.’

Nyssa looked her up and down, taking in the trousers Tegan was wearing.

‘It is rather a shame,’ the Trakenite said, before grinning. ‘But I suppose walking around in a skirt probably isn’t very warm.’

Tegan tried to ignore the pinkening of her cheeks. She really wished Nyssa would stop saying things like that; she knew the younger woman didn’t mean anything by them, but they made Tegan’s heart race nonetheless.

‘You like seeing my legs, Nys?’

‘Of course,’ Nyssa said, her cheeks dimpling as she smiled. ‘You’re beautiful, Tegan.’

The pink had given way to a full-on maroon. Tegan stammered a mumbled “so are you”, to which Nyssa responded with a glowing smile. The Trakenite reached forward and linked her fingers through Tegan’s.

Oh, dear. Tegan tried to ignore the ache in her heart. She was helpless, really. One smile from Nyssa was enough to make her weak at the knees, let alone the handholding. It wasn’t Nyssa’s fault; she probably had no idea the effect she was having on Tegan. Nyssa was a sweet, friendly woman from a culture whose ways were so different from Earth. And, besides, Tegan didn’t even know if Traken girls liked other girls. Or anyone, for that matter. Tegan certainly wasn’t going to ask; she didn’t have the courage necessary for that.

Trying not to think about this too much, Tegan followed Nyssa out of the room and down the corridor towards the console room.

Adric was already waiting there. His eyes hovered for a moment on Tegan and Nyssa’s joins hands.

‘What took you so long?’ he asked, curiously.

‘I had to get changed!’ Tegan replied, quickly. ‘Can’t you tell I’m wearing different clothes?’

Adric shrugged.

‘All Earthlings look the same to me-’

‘Ah! Jolly good; you’re all here!’

The Doctor strode in through the TARDIS doors, his hat perched atop his blonde hair. He had that infuriatingly cheerful grin that Tegan knew preceded a lecture of sorts. The git.

‘Now,’ the time lord said, clapping his hands together. ‘We’ve landed a little while away from the settlement, so we’ll be able to get a good bit of fresh air and exercise before we get there! Very interesting planet, is Augustine 16; the population produce asexually and most of their society is based around close-knit groups of friends. So I imagine we’ll fit right it!’

‘Doctor,’ Tegan said, irritably. ‘Humans don’t produce asexually.’

‘Well, nobody’s perfect, Tegan,’ the Doctor replied, refusing to be detracted from his lecture. ‘Anyway; good thinking with those walking boots. I, er, may have landed the TARDIS slightly further away than I initially expected.’

‘How far?’ Adric asked, suspiciously.

‘About an hour’s brisk walk, I would think.’

Tegan shared a look with Nyssa, who giggled and squeezed her hand.

‘No matter,’ continued the Doctor, gesturing to the TARDIS doors and ignoring Adric’s groan. ‘The time will fly by; now, as I was saying, the local population has a simply fascinating social structure…’

As Tegan and Nyssa followed the Doctor along, Tegan’s mind began to wander. Partially because the Doctor’s lecture, like so many of its predecessors, was rather long-winded and prone to random tangents.  

It had been… well, it felt like a few months since Tegan had started travelling with the Doctor, but time didn’t seem to run normally in the TARDIS. Given that it was a time machine, Tegan supposed it made sense that days and nights didn’t really exist.

During that time, a pattern of travelling had developed. They would land somewhere, the Doctor would cause a fuss with the locals or stumble into some sort of danger, meaning Tegan, Nyssa and Adric would have to get him out of danger. On a few occasions, they’d left the place by sprinting back to the TARDIS ahead of an angry mob. Not exactly Tegan’s idea of fun, but her new life aboard the TARDIS did have some advantages.

For one thing, she didn’t have to worry about getting back late to her first job. Since, as the Doctor kept insisting, he’d be able to land the TARDIS at Heathrow in time for her check-in.

So far, he’d missed Heathrow by a couple thousand years, twelve thousand light years and eight galaxies.

Somehow, Tegan got the sense that the stupid time lord didn’t actually know how the pilot the bloody thing.

But… well, Tegan was now sharing a room with Nyssa.

Nyssa.

Oh, dear.

Tegan and Nyssa had first shared a room in Castrovalva. Actually, that wasn’t exactly true; they hadn’t just shared the room, but the bed as well. Nyssa had wrapped her arms around Tegan and cuddled her as she’d fallen asleep. Tegan had spent the next two hours trying and falling to do the same, instead focusing on the gentle scent of Nyssa’s hair and the calmness of her breaths next to Tegan’s ear. It had been a miracle that she’d gotten to sleep at all.

The next day, after they had escaped Castrovalva and hurried back to the TARDIS, Tegan had been rather upset to discover that she hadn’t actually been able to land the bloody thing. It turned out that the Master had remotely piloted it to the planet, wanting to make sure that they all arrived in the trap he had set for the Doctor.

However, after they had gotten back inside the console room, Nyssa had reached out and squeezed Tegan’s hand softly.

‘Don’t worry, Tegan,’ she had said, smiling prettily. ‘I’m sure you’ll be able to pilot the TARDIS one day.’

Tegan had fancied Nyssa since the very first moment she had clapped eyes on her in Logopolis, but that had been the moment she had properly started to fall for the Trakenite.

Nyssa was kind, intelligent, beautiful and simply wonderful. And Tegan was well-and-truly smitten by the last daughter of Traken.

                                                             *

 Eventually, they reached the settlement. It was a fairly large place, roughly the size of the town nearest where Tegan had grown up in rural Australia.

The buildings looked somewhat similar to those Tegan had seen in pictures of old Celtic settlements in Northern Europe, except with brighter colours. The inhabitants looked vaguely humanoid, except that the hair on their heads were combinations of different colours as opposed to just one. The clothes they wore were a type of long tunic, in purples and dark blues. Their eyes were multi-coloured, giving the appearance of rainbows in their irises.

Thanks to the TARDIS translation circuits (Nyssa had explained them after Tegan had remarked that Nyssa spoke perfect English), Tegan could understand all that the locals were saying. Most of them were discussing the price of foods and what sort of vegetables cooked best together. Which made sense, given that they were walking through a food market.

The Doctor looked around in cheerful curiosity, bending over to look at the wares of curtain stalls and haggling with the owners for certain items. Adric was looking around too, his face more puzzled than the Doctors but still engaged in what was going on around him. Tegan wished she could do so too, but she was starting to notice that people were staring at her. Or, more specifically, staring at the hand that was currently intertwined with Nyssa’s.

She didn’t know how the people of this planet might view two women holding hands. If they were anything like many people back on Earth, she wasn’t holding out much hope that the stares were positive in nature-

‘A necklace for your wife?’

Tegan jumped. A stall-owner was grinning at her from nearby, holding up a golden necklace, that shimmered in the sunlight.

‘W-wife?’ she stammered, feeling a blush rise in her cheeks. ‘I… what-’

‘Yes,’ replied the stall-owner. ‘You are holding hands, yes?’

‘W-well, yes,’ Tegan began. ‘But-’

‘Oooohhhh,’ Nyssa said, having turned round to see who Tegan was speaking to. ‘It’s beautiful!’

‘A gift to remind you of your visit to Augustine 16,’ chirped the stall-owner, grinning wider. ‘I could tell that you were both from off-world, given your hands being conjoined and the fondness for each other in your eyes-’

‘We don’t have any money with us,’ Tegan said, quickly. She could now feel her face burning. ‘Sorry; we wouldn’t be able to pay.’

‘Oh, no matter,’ replied the stall-owner, not noticing Tegan’s flustered expression. ‘Consider it a gift to you both from our people.’

‘Thank you!’

Nyssa, smile wide, stepped forward. The stall-owner tied it around her neck, and Nyssa turned to Tegan.

‘What do you think?’ she said, sweetly. ‘Does it suit me?’

It did. It really did. Tegan could feel her knees quiver at the jubilant expression on Nyssa’s face. God, the universe hated Tegan, didn’t it.

Unable to speak, Tegan nodded awkwardly. Nyssa thanked the stall-owner again, and the two women walked away, Tegan trailing slightly behind Nyssa.

Did… did the two of them really seem like a couple? They were holding hands, after all. Tegan was glad that the idea of two women being a couple didn’t seem to be a point of contention for the locals, but… well, Nyssa didn’t seem to have shocked by that stall-owner mistaking them for a married couple. Why? Was this a part of Traken culture? Or was the TARDIS mistranslating “wife” to mean a word from Nyssa’s culture to mean a close platonic friend? Probably the later, Tegan reasoned. Anything else would be ridiculous. No way would Tegan be that lucky-

‘Tegan?’

Nyssa -sweet, wonderful Nyssa- had turned to look at her, concerned.

‘Are you alright? You looked a little overwhelmed.’

Tegan put on a smile.

‘Er, yeah. Sorry; just… lots of people here.’

‘The market is busy,’ Nyssa agreed, before turning around to where the Doctor was standing at a stall nearby. ‘Doctor; can we move somewhere quieter, please?’

‘Hmmm?’ the Doctor replied, holding up a bizarre-looking vegetable before nodding. ‘Very well; come along, Adric...’

Tegan followed Nyssa through the market and out into a large square. Unfortunately, it was also just as crowded.

Tegan rolled her eyes, before glaring at the time lord.

‘Doc, your sense of direction is truly appalling.’

The Doctor frowned down at her, before standing up on the tips of his toes to look over the heads of the crowd. There was a large temple in front of them, with a huge banner handing over the front entrance, which was apparently locked, with two large guards standing in front of it. Tegan squinted, reading the banner.

‘The hand of Saint John?’

‘That’s what the TARDIS has translated it as,’ the Doctor said. ‘Some sort of religious artifact, I wager. Fascinating. A real shame we can’t get in to see it, actually...’

‘Oh, Doctor, no!’ Nyssa said, seeing the warning signs. ‘You can’t sneak into a temple just because you want to look at the artifact. It could cause religious strife amongst the locals, and -besides- those sorts of expeditions never end well for you, do they?’

The Doctor narrowed his eyes at the young woman, looking rather put-out. Tegan, on the other hand, couldn’t help but smile. Was it sad that she liked it when Nyssa got bossy? Probably. But she didn’t care.

‘I really think you’re being far too cautious, Nyssa,’ the Doctor said, with some dignity. ‘Besides, we’ll never know what we’ve missed if we don’t try.’

‘“We” are not trying anything!’ Tegan said. ‘Nyssa’s right; that’s dangerous. We’re not ending up running for an hour back to the TARDIS in front of an angry mob of locals.’

The Doctor looked between them, obviously seeing that he was rapidly becoming outnumbered.

‘Well, you don’t need to come with me. Adric, what do you say?’

They all turned. The boy was stood a few feet away from the rest of the crowd, admiring a fireworks stall that was set up on the periphery. He plainly had not been listening to a word anyone was saying.

‘We didn’t have these in E space,’ he said, quietly to himself.

‘Adric!’

‘Hmmm?’

‘Oh, nevermind,’ the Doctor said, putting his hat back on. ‘You three stay in this square; I’ll meet you back here after I have a look inside.’

‘Doctor-’

But the Time Lord had hurried away, through the crowd.

‘Rabbits!’ Tegan grumbled. ‘He always does this; launches headfirst into problems and we then have to bail him out!’

‘Indeed,’ Nyssa said. ‘You… you do think I was right, don’t you?’

‘Wouldn’t have said so if I didn’t.’

Nyssa smiled, her eyes twinkling.

‘Thank you.’

Oh, dear.

Nyssa really was pretty, wasn’t she. It wasn’t fair.

Tegan could have easily stood there for ever, looking at Nyssa smiling at her. Tegan truly did feel like a lovesick idiot. And the sad thing was that she knew Nyssa didn’t mean anything by it. To all purposes, the younger woman had clearly not grown up with many friends her own age, and Tegan had been one of the few constants around during the tumultuous first few days of the two of them meeting. No wonder that the two of them were now so close.

Speaking of being of similar age, Nyssa was roughly Tegan’s age, right? She seemed to be but, then again, it was difficult to tell. People from other planets might not age the same way that Earthlings did, after all. The Doctor was apparently several hundred years old but barely looked older than his mid-thirties. Adric sometimes looked like someone Tegan’s age, and then he’d open his mouth and act exactly like a whiny pubescent boy.

‘Nys?’

‘Yes?’

‘Er… We haven’t had the chance to talk about this but…’

‘Hm?’

‘You are my age, right?’

Nyssa looked slightly confused, as if she had been expected Tegan to say something else.

‘I believe so,’ the Trakenite said, slowly. ‘I checked the TARDIS data banks about this; Traken years are roughly similar to Earth years so, by your calendars, I would be about eighteen years of age. Er… why do you ask?’

‘O-oh, just curious.’

‘I think,’ Adric said, from nearby, making the two women jump, ‘that the Doctor wants us to cause a distraction.’

‘What?’ Tegan said. ‘Does he want us to put on leaf skirts and dance the hula?’

‘The what?’ Adric said, looking at her in confusion. ‘No; weren’t you listening to what the Doctor was saying while we were walking here?’

‘I kinda lost interest about that tangent about mushrooms, to be honest.’

‘This planets culture doesn’t have a concept of physical affection,’ Adric continued, rolling his eyes at her. ‘They don’t have families as Earthlings might understand it.’

‘Wouldn’t that get us arrested, then?’

‘No,’ Nyssa said, contemplatively. ‘It would make a good distraction.’

‘But me and you have been holding hands the entire time and no-one stared at us that much.’

Adric stared over at where the Doctor was hiding.

‘Kissing might be an option.’

‘Kissing?’ Tegan exclaimed. ‘You’re not bloody well kissing me, Adric.’

Adric wrinkled his nose, looking revolted.

‘Don’t be disgusting,’ he said. ‘You and Nyssa figure something out; I’m going to see if I can set off some of those fireworks over there. It might not be what the Doctor hopes for with a distraction but it may just work.’

And, with that, he hurried away through the crowd.

‘So,’ Nyssa said, turning to Tegan. ‘Would you prefer to kiss me, or shall I kiss you?’

Tegan mouth flapped open and closed several times. Her mind was a swirl of confusion. What did Nyssa mean by that? Tegan couldn’t help but notice several of the locals nearby turning to look at them both, looking a little shocked. Without thinking, Tegan grabbed Nyssa’s hand and pulled her away through the crowd. They eventually ended up in a small alleyway just away from the main square

‘Nyssa…’ she said, dropping her hand and turning to face the younger woman. ‘What the hell did you mean back there?’

‘I mean would you prefer to take the initiative, or shall I?’

‘But… but Adric said he was going to set off fireworks!’

‘So… we can’t kiss? I was rather looking forward to it-’

‘Nyssa!’ Tegan exclaimed, her face burning bright red. ‘I don’t think you understand what kissing on the lips implies for humans!’

Nyssa stared at her, as if confused.

‘It implied romantic attraction, doesn’t it?’

Tegan goggled at the younger woman, utterly at a loss for words.

‘I thought the TARDIS data banks were very clear on the subject,’ Nyssa continued. ‘Earth cultures, such as late twentieth-century Australia, regard kissing someone on the mouth as an expression of romantic desire. The gesture is often used in marriage ceremonies and is also considered something of a precursor to romantic liaisons-’

‘I get it, I get it!’ Tegan blustered, feeling utterly mortified. ‘But… Nyssa, why are you… with me…’

She stammered off into embarrassed silence.

Nyssa stared at her for a moment.

‘Have I not been clear?’ she asked, reaching out and softly taking Tegan’s hand in hers. A shiver went up Tegan’s spine at her touch. ‘I was unsure of how Earthlings express such things, so I wanted to make sure that I was performing the correct courting rituals for your culture. That’s why I checked the TARDIS data banks, you see. They recommended hand-holding, complimenting physical appearances, time shared with the person in question…’

Courtship rituals?

Tegan’s brain seemed to have stopped working. Wait… did that mean… no, surely not…

‘Nyssa… what… do you…’

‘Do I love you?’ Nyssa replied, her cheeks pinkening. ‘Yes, of course. I am sorry that my interpretation of Earth courtship rituals were not correct-’

‘No, they were!’ Tegan moaned, putting her other hand on her face in embarrassment. ‘They were! I just… I never thought I’d be that lucky! I didn’t even know if girls from Traken liked other girls in that way! You were being so lovely and I just thought you were being friendly!’

‘You’re so sweet, Tegan,’ Nyssa said, dimples appearing. ‘And, yes, this Traken girl does like other girls. Especially one very adorable Earth girl.’

Tegan grinned, blushing, at her.

‘Now you’re just trying to flatter me.’

‘Is it working?’

‘You know fully well it is.’

‘So…’ Nyssa said, smiling coyly up at her. ‘May I kiss you now, Tegan?’

‘I appreciate the thought but I’d hardly object if you just did it-’

But Tegan stopped talking because, at that moment, Nyssa reached forward, grabbed her by the front of her coat, and pressed their lips together.

Tegan’s brain promptly stopped working. Well, except for the one part that was swearing in jubilation. Nyssa loved her and was kissing her! This was bloody fantastic! Tegan had been convinced that she was the one with a hopeless crush and yet… it hadn’t been hopeless at all. Nyssa of Traken loved her. Loved her. God, how was she this lucky?

Tegan was dimly aware of fireworks going off in the square behind them, but she had little interest in turning to look at them. After all, that would mean she wouldn’t get to continue kissing Nyssa-

‘I think that distraction worked.’

Tegan and Nyssa broke apart. Tegan, her face burning red, stumbled as she turned. Adric was standing a few feet away, his face the very picture of polite bafflement.

‘Do humans normally kiss like that?’ he asked, scratching his head. ‘Seems rather excessive to me.’

‘S-shut up,’ Tegan mumbled, not daring to look at Nyssa. ‘Anyway, you said it worked?’

‘Yes, the Doctor snuck in,’ Adric said, turning to point across the square over to the entrance of the temple. ‘Hopefully, he’ll be able to figure out what is going on in there. I wonder what the Hand of Saint John even is…’

Adric continued his line of queries, apparently unaware of the situation that he had just broken up and the situation between the two women stood behind him. Tegan should have been angry with him but, given that Nyssa had just slipped her hand into Tegan’s, she found it difficult to feel too upset. Nyssa’s hand squeezed against hers. Tegan felt her heart fill with warmth for the younger woman as she turned to look at her.  

Nyssa’s cheeks had flushed slightly, and her lips had inflamed slightly from what had just happened. Her lips -those sweet, adorable lips- formed into a coy smile, and she squeezed Tegan’s hand again, taking a step closer to her, so that their shoulders were touching.

Tegan smiled back, her heart beating as if fit to burst from joy.

                                                              *

 ‘Well, I thought that all went very well,’ the Doctor said, cheerfully, as they all walked through the doors of the TARDIS about two hours later. ‘The mayor was freed, they gave me a cup of some lovely local soup, and the rain has held off. How did you cause a distraction, by the way? I didn’t get a chance to look.’

‘I set off some fireworks. Although Nyssa and Tegan also tried something,’ Adric replied, not noticing Tegan’s face flushing. ‘Nyssa did that… human thing, with the lips?’

‘Oh, kissing,’ the Doctor replied, now looking somewhat uncomfortable. ‘Yes. By-product of human reproduction, I believe. Traken also have that in their culture too, although somewhat more sparingly-’

‘Yes, thank you, Doctor,’ Nyssa said, taking Tegan’s hand and pulling her across the console room towards the doors opposite. ‘Tegan and I will see you both later.’

Tegan felt acutely embarrassed as she saw an expression of dawning realisation appear on the Doctor’s face. Bollocks. He knew. Why did Tegan suddenly feel like her dad had walked in on her kissing a girl?

The door closed behind them.

‘Well, that was mortifying,’ Tegan muttered, and was stunned to then see Nyssa’s face flush pink. She had to admit, the effect was very pretty.

‘It was rather embarrassing, yes.’

They reached their shared room. Upon entering, the two women stood still for a moment, their hands still intertwined.

There was a moment of silence.

‘So, should we-’

‘I should get changed-’

Both of them stopped speaking and chuckled.

The two of them walked over and sat down on Tegan’s bed. Tegan then let go of Nyssa’s hand and began to undo the laces on her walking boots.

‘So…’

Nyssa fidgeted next to Tegan.

‘What happens now?’

‘Probably the Doc will end up landing us somewhere bonkers and get us into another life-threatening disaster-’

‘No, Tegan,’ Nyssa continued, placing a hand on Tegan’s arm. ‘I mean… what happens now… regarding the two of us?’

‘Oh.’-Tegan quickly dropped her boots onto the floor and turned to face Nyssa. The Traken woman was still blushing a little. Tegan probably was, come to think of it. ‘Well… I mean, we are technically living together already. What… what are the Trakenite rules of courtship? You know the Earth ones, but I don’t have a clue as to what counts for your culture.’

‘Oh, well,’ Nyssa said, matter-of-factly. ‘By the standards of Traken, we’re technically engaged-to-be-wed already.’

Tegan gaped at her.

‘Got you,’ Nyssa said, poking Tegan’s nose softly with her finger. ‘I’m starting to understand Earth humour, I think.’

‘Nyssa; you little minx!’

There was a delighted squeal from Nyssa as Tegan pulled her sideways onto the bed, pressing kisses to the younger woman’s neckline. As they rolled side-to-side on the bed, Tegan’s coat ended up on the floor, along with the thick jumper she had been wearing over her flight attendant blouse.

She had a sneaking suspicion that was Nyssa’s doing. It all happened rather quickly, but she wasn’t complaining. She liked to think of it as making up for lost time.

Eventually, Tegan found herself straddling Nyssa’s lap, the younger woman lying on the duvet.  Her heart beating fast and happy, Tegan smiled.

‘Traken courtship rituals?’

Nyssa laid down her arms above her head, her hair spilling out in a halo around her. Her eyes glinted mischievously and her mouth quirked into a cheeky smile.

‘How about you keep trying things and I’ll let you know what counts?’

Tegan’s grin widened.

‘I think that can be arranged, Nys...’

 ~~~~~~~~~

This fic was partially inspired by a fic that @serenbex wrote a while back about Nyssa trying to give signals to Tegan, and Tegan (useless lesbian (affectionate)) completely missing each and every signal.

Hope you enjoyed the fic!

[82mkl]

at your party (lee donghyuck/haechan)

at your party (lee donghyuck/haechan)

pairing: lee donghyuck (haechan) x reader

word count: 2k words

content: angst, fluff if you squint??? like really squint maybe

notes: lowercase intended. this isn’t proofread. i know miss taylor has released a new album but i am still stuck at folklore, i might make one for champagne problems tho idk idk also augustine is not present in this i changed the trilogy characters lol

this is based on betty by taylor swift.

i won’t make assumptions about why you switched your homeroom but i think it’s because of me.

“donghyuck, are you listening?” jaemin asks. “what were you saying?” “y/n is back from the states.” donghyuck’s eyes widened as he heard the news. it can’t be. you would call him, or even text him if you were coming home, right? “nice joke jaem,” he says, in denial. “look,” jaemin shows him the list of students in their year level and their homeroom. “she’s supposed to be in our homeroom though, i wonder why she switched,” jeno says, and it just so happens, donghyuck sees y/n with inez. “i think i know why. right, donghyuck?” mark suddenly says, and just like that all eyes were on him. “i fucked up,” is all he could say to them at this point. 

flashback.

“haechan, i’m leaving for the whole summer,” you suddenly tell him. “come again?” donghyuck asks. “my parents want me to spend the summer in america,” you explain. “do you want to go?” he asks, hoping that you change your mind. “i tried telling them, but they wouldn’t budge,” you say. silence filled the air. for sure, you two could handle a long-distance relationship for three months, right? “haechan, you know it’s just three months, we can d-,” “i think we need a break,” he cuts you off. you were caught off guard, you did not expect him to say that, or even consider it. “but-,” you try to fight, but you know whatever you say will be useless. you let out a sigh as he starts fixing his things. “don’t worry, y/n. i’ll wait for you. i just don’t want you to feel burdened with our relationship as you stay there,” he says, and that’s when you start crying. he pulls you into a hug as he strokes your hair. “haechan, promise me you won’t find someone else?” you tell him, and you feel him give you a nod. he looks at you, and gives you a kiss. “i promise baby.”

you heard the rumors from inez, you can’t believe a word she says most times, but this time it was true. the worst thing i ever did was what i did to you.

you were finally back home. you wanted to surprise haechan so bad, so you kept your arrival a secret for the mean time. you were out in the mall when you saw inez. you weren’t exactly friends, you saw how she looks at haechan ever since, and that makes you feel things you shouldn’t. “y/n? you’re back!” she says, giving you a hug. you give her a smile, “yeah, i am. how are you?” you ask, “i’m doing good! i’m meeting hyuck in a while, we’ve been hanging out a lot lately ever since you went away” she says obviously to provoke you, and your eyes widen. what is she talking about? “really? i see, i should get going now. it was nice seeing you,” you tell her. thoughts were running on your mind, is she and haechan a thing now? why was haechan hanging out with her if he knew you hated her? will you actually believe a word that comes from her mouth? so you did what you had to do. you decided to dial mark’s number. “hey mark!” you greet him. “hey y/n, how are you? what’s up?” you hear loud music at the background. “oh, are you at a party? i can just ask you some other time,” he gives a chuckle, “it’s fine. hold on, i’ll go out so i can hear you better.” you nod even though he could not see you. you were actually really scared because what if haechan has moved on? “hey, you still there?” he asks, “yup! just wanted to ask you something,” you tell him, and he hums as a response. you tell him about your encounter with inez, “so i was wondering if they’re a thing or something? i mean, he did say we will go on a break, but i didn’t know that included meeting other people,” you tell him as your voice crack. “oh my god y/n, that’s the first time i’m hearing this as well. donghyuck has never mentioned anything about her, but now that i think about it. they have been spending time with each other for a while. i just don’t know if they’re official. i’m sorry, y/n.” he tells you, and you just want to cry at this point. “i see, thank you mark, enjoy the party.” you end the call before he could even respond. when haechan suggested a break, you were pretty sure that didn’t include meeting other people, but maybe you were wrong. he could have just broken up with you completely if this was his plan. you felt so stupid.

but if i just showed up at your party, would you tell me to go fuck myself or lead me to the garden? 

“y/n’s holding a party this saturday! we spoke a while ago, and she said she hoped she saw us there,” jeno excitedly says. “does that include hyuck?” chenle says, and everyone laughs as donghyuck gives them a glare. “you should go though, try to talk to her,” mark tells him. “you love her, don’t you?” jaemin asks, and donghyuck nods. “so much, i’m so stupid for playing around this summer.” “yeah, you are. why did you even do it?” renjun asks him. “it was in the moment, inez offered a ride home, and then you know. the day turned into night. i fucking regret it so much, but i swear it was only a one time thing. we just hanged out after,” he explains. “you’re fucked,” jaemin says, disgusted by what he heard. “i know, i’m sorry. at this point, all i could think about is what if she never wants to see me again? what is she says fuck you, hyuck!” “i wouldn’t be surprised” renjun says. “but atleast you tried, right?” mark assures him.

the only thing i want do is make it up to you, so i showed up at your party.

it’s now saturday, and donghyuck is on the way to your house. he’s 30 minutes late, but that’s because he was looking at his stupid mirror planning how to talk to you. he was definitely lost in his train of thoughts until he hears his phone ring. “where are you?” mark says as he picks up his phone. “i’m parking. is she there?” a stupid question, but donghyuck was so nervous he didn’t even think it through. “of course she is, it’s her party. goodluck hyuck, but you better come quick, i think lucas is planning to ask her for a dance.” mark says then ends the call. donghyuck lets out a sigh, and starts walking to your doorstep. he was holding a bouquet of flowers, standing outside your door even though a party is ongoing. he looked kind of stupid, and he knew that, but he would do anything to get you back even if it means embarrassing himself. he finally dialed your number, hoping you pick up even with the loud music. “hello?” you answer, and he freezes. he didn’t actually think you would pick up. “donghyuck,” you say sternly. donghyuck? you never called him by that name. it has always been haechan, you were the only person to call him that name. 

“y/n, i’m at your doorstep,” he says.

you start getting nervous, but you could not let him get to you. you knew he wanted to talk to you, but you were not even sure if you wanted to talk, or even see him up close. “then come in,” you tell him. “y/n…” he pleas, and you heart starts racing. “meet me in the garden, you know how to get there,” you say as you end the call. you’re probably making a bad decision right now, but you still go to the garden, and patiently wait for donghyuck to arrive. you sat the the bench scrolling through your phone when you hear him call you, “y/n!” you look up and see him. lee donghyuck, the love of your life, and maybe your ex now. he’s your ex-boyfriend now, isn’t he? but you didn’t even officially break up. is this what he came for? to officially break up with you? thoughts started clouding your mind, you didn’t get to hear anything donghyuck was saying. “i’m sorry, i was distracted. come again?” you tell him. he lets out a sigh, handing you the bouquet. you look at him before accepting it, and when you did, he sits beside you and ask, “how are you?” you look at him, and he starts getting flustered, “i mean, how was america? your family?” you can’t believe this guy. “they’re fine, thank you, but can you please stop acting like everything is okay. tell me what you want to say,” you say. he looks at you, surprised at your sudden outburst. before you know it, tears were starting to fall from your eyes. “are you officially breaking up with me this time? you should have just told me from the start. i feel so fucking stupid, donghyuck,” you tell him. you didn’t even know if he could understand you with the amount of sobs you were making. “i’m so sorry y/n, listen…” “donghyuck, please just do it. just get it over with. tell me you’re with inez now, and that you don’t love me anymore,” you were weeping loudly at this point, and haechan was surprised at what you just said, so he pulls you in his chest as you cry. “fuck, i’m so sorry. baby, please believe me when i tell you that i love you so much. i’m so stupid for doing that to you, please forgive me,” he tells you. he was caressing your hair, and there was silence for at least a minute. “y/n?” he says, pulling your head to face him. “can we drive away somewhere?” you ask. you didn’t care if this was your party, you had to get away from everyone.

donghyuck started driving around. both of you, clueless, on where you’re going. he stops at a nearby parking, and starts talking, “y/n, i’m really sorry.” you close your eyes, and look outside the window. “baby” he calls for you. “you lost the privilege in calling me that when you started doing whatever you were doing with inez,” you tell him. “y/n, i’m so sorry. please, she means nothing to me. i was so lonely that time, but i dreamt of you all summer long, i’m so sorry,” he tells you. “you could have called me, hyuck! i was lonely too, but i loved you so much that even when we were on a break, i couldn’t even think about going out with someone else,” you scream at him. “i thought you felt the same way, but i was obviously wrong. why else would you suggest a break, right?” you let out a chuckle. “y/n, i’m so sorry. i will do anything for your forgiveness, please. i love you so much.” he says, taking your hands into his. donghyuck rarely cried, and if he did, he would lock himself in the bathroom because he was embarrassed to show it to anyone, even you, but here he is crying in front of you. “i’ll do whatever you want me to do. i already blocked inez’ number, i will do anything, i promise,” he rambles. you were conflicted. you love donghyuck so much, but is that enough to keep the relationship? you really didn’t know what to do. you love him, for fucks sake, you can’t even imagine a future without him.

“haechan…” you say, letting go of his hand.

donghyuck was terrified at this point. you called him by the name ‘haechan’ which is a good thing because you only called him that during your relationship. that was the first time you called him with that name all throughout the night, but at the same time, you were letting go of his hand. does this mean that you’re letting go of him? maybe this was the bittersweet end, but at the same time he’s still holding on to the way you said his name, filled with love and care.

[keepthyfaithandthylight]

Reincarnation au part 3

After quite the tiring day, Max at last got to walk around the city as he always did. That is when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

Max wasn’t necessarily expecting any texts or calls, and immediately assumed it was Augustin, and that perhaps something bad had happened.

Either way, I should probably check it.

He then sat down on the nearest bench, and pulled out his phone. To his surprise, however, the message was not from Augustin.

Camille:

It’s been a while since we last talked, figured I would check in on you and remind you that I haven’t forgotten you. How’s school going this year?

Max swallowed his joy upon seeing the name. It wasn’t necessarily proper to start giggling like a school child with pure excitement in the middle of the street, after all.

‘School is.. different. Glad to hear from you though. How’s Lucile?’

Max watched the people rush by as he waited for a response, and as usual he did not have to wait long to receive one.

Camille:

She’s good! Really stressed though, she and her mom are trying to plan. I've tried helping but I’m not really good at that kind of stuff. At this point I’m just moral support lol.

Max chuckled, he could see it perfectly. All of them gathered around the kitchen table, making input. Lucile was probably the one to tell him to simply be moral support.

‘Oh? Well I’m glad to hear that she’s doing well aside from that. How about you?’

Max stared, and almost immediately the dots popped up on screen. Most of the time, Camille was good at responding in a timely manner.

Camille:

I’m doing good myself, mostly just over the moon excited. I had something to ask of you, Max.

Max frowned. The phrasing was worrying.

‘What would that happen to be?’

He asked, and then there was a pause of about 30 seconds before the dots popped up again.

Camille:

Well, you’ve been a really good friend of mine for years now so I was figuring maybe you could, you know, be best man at the wedding. Totally your choice, of course.

Max began to smile, already typing out his response.

‘Of course I’ll be best man at your wedding, Camille. Why you’d think you even have to ask is beyond me, you could have simply told me to be best man at your wedding and I would have agreed.’

He chuckled, lightly. It was true, of course.

Camille:

Lol. It’s polite to do, I figured you wouldn’t really want to if you were voluntold. Anyway, have you gotten a replacement for me yet? Haha

Max rolled his eyes at Camille’s wording. If he was there he would most likely be smacking him upside the head.

‘Yeah, and Camille stop saying replacement. No person is replaceable.’

The dots began immediately.

Camille:

Alright whatever you say Socrates. I’ll have to message you later, needed for moral support again.

Max chuckled once more at his phone.

‘Alright, take care. Tell Lucile I said hello.’

He watched as ‘read’ appeared under the text, before sliding his phone back into his pocket and standing to his feet.

Mind as well get some more coffee.

Slowly, he made his way down the street, to the coffee shop that he always visited. The bell jingled as he opened the door, and the barista looked up.

“Max! It’s been a few months!” She called, happily, her cheeks nearly split with the grin on her face. He smiled back at her and nodded. “The usual?” She asked, and he nodded once more.

“I’m surprised you remember.” Max commented, amused, watching the barista hurry around like a bee.

“Oh please, that’s one of the most common drinks I make. Probably because you’ve always been the most frequent customer. I’m pretty sure you have a caffeine addiction.” The young girl commented, with a shrug.

“Perhaps, but hey it won’t kill me so I don’t see a problem with it.” Max replied, returning her shrug, watching as the girl snickered.

“Well if you drink too much at one time it will.” She stated, with an amused expression, the bleached ends of her hair falling in front of her face. “Either way, more business for my manager I suppose.” She sighed, Max seeing an opportunity for humor.

“All I am to you is a paycheck?” He asked, mischievously, earning an eyeroll from the barista.

“No, Max, you’re my friend. I was making a point.” She replied, before handing him his cup of coffee. “$9.57.” Max dug around in his pocket for his wallet.

“Let me tell you I have had the strangest day today.” He said, and the girl looked up with a raised brow, only for a moment.

“How so?” She asked, returning to busying herself cleaning.

“Well it’s mostly my art history teacher, she seems normal aside from the fact that she acts like she knows something I don’t. About myself.” He replied, already drinking a swig of coffee.

“Hmm.. maybe she’s a witch.” Commented the barista, sounding abnormally serious in her comment.

“I doubt that, but..” Max responded, holding his coffee close to his chest.

“I was joking.”

“Oh.” He chuckled lightly at his misstep, smiling fondly to himself. Just then, the bell jingled as a seemingly overworked man walked in. He looked strangely familiar, but again a lot of people did to Max at this point. “I’ll get going, it was lovely seeing you again Sandy!” He called, already halfway out the door.

“You too Max!” Replied the girl, before turning to the hunched over man.

Ok. What on Earth is happening.

***

“-yeah, I would say that is pretty weird. Though, the same thing has happened to me a few times so I wouldn’t say it’s out of the ordinary too much.” Said Antoine, who sat aggressively drying his hair with a towel.

“That’s reassuring.” Said Max, tiredly, as he stared up at the ceiling. “But why is it happening? It’s like some weirdly intense deja vu that only happens in certain situations with certain people. I don’t think I like it at all.” He continued, desperate for some sort of answer. Obviously he wasn’t expecting one, his roommate was not God.

“I dunno, but that just about sums it up. I know that Georges guy has had it happen too. He literally stopped me before I was about to leave. Was really weird, not sure I like him.” Antoine stated.

“Really?” Max asked, hesitantly, looking to the side.

“Yeah. Maybe we should all just have group therapy or something, in a circle of metal foldable chairs.” Antoine replied, with a shrug.

“How would we even arrange that?-“

“I was joking.”

“Oh-“ silence. “Did Ms. Rozzero happen to say anything to you today?” Max asked again, nervously.

“Not really, no. She barely even acknowledged the fact that I exist.” Antoine answered. “But from what I could see she is abnormally fond of you. To the point where it’s weird, like., creepy weird.” He continued, before shuddering, face wrought with discomfort in the situation.

“Now I feel a little better about being weirded out. As in, I feel like less of a jerk.” Max stated, staring at his hands as he sat up.

“Don’t worry about it, honestly, I would be weirded out too. Im already pretty weirded out actually.” Antoine commented. The street lamp filtered in from outside the window, giving the room a faint orange glow. If Max wasn’t feeling so uneasy, he would have quite enjoyed it. “If she keeps doing it bring it up to her though, maybe we’ll all have to team up and get her to stop. I mean, even the football kid noticed, with his sheer size he could be pretty intimidating, and as much as I do not like the guy he could be an ally in this situation.” The younger continued, before looking over at Max with a look of concern.

“Yeah, I guess your right.” The latter sighed, before suddenly becoming his more optimistic self again. “Anyway, wanna just swing down to the Chinese restaurant really quick and get some take out?” He suggested, watching the smile form on his roommates face.

“Hell yeah.”

[cherryblossomtease]

Part 5b

18+ only

warnings summary masterlist

You’re sad, not cruel, so you serve tea at the little table sat by the bay window, the lace curtain a lovely backdrop to the dark mood. Neither of you saying much as you do.

He’s watching you, his pretty eyes fixed on your every move as you pour and open the sugar. He holds up his hand to refuse, but accepts the milk and when you sit, he dares to look at your face.

“Thank you for letting me come,” He says.

You nod.

He is looking at the ribbon you’ve taken to wearing around your neck when your collar is not high and you look away, angry, embarrassed…

The Baron clears his throat and reaches across the table to take your hand but you draw it in and look at him holding nothing back. “First you did not write! Then you did not come! Everyone else did! My poor sick father made the trip. It nearly killed him but he came,”

He sits back with a sigh.

“You were here the entire time were you not?”

“I came as soon as I heard.” He confirms.

You don't know if this makes it better or worse.“Then why? Was it too hard for you? To see me cut open?  You wanted to wait until they stuck me back together, or am I too ugly now?” You want to say more but your words are stifled by the tears that betray you and fall over your cheeks which you quickly brush away.

He leans in again hushing you in a soft stream of Sokovian… “Draga devojko…you are the most beautiful woman, there are no exceptions to this. What’s happened to you can not change that, nothing can change that. When I first met you, yes, I saw your lovely eyes your sweet smile, I heard you sing of course but it was when I got to know the woman beneath that your beauty was revealed in truth.”

You blink up at him licking a tear from your lips.

How can someone who has not looked at you in nearly a month, who has left you questioning every word, every action and every assumed feeling say something and nearly erase all of that hurt.

You shake your head, your smile sardonic at best as you speak. “I still don’t understand….” This is said about many things, but you start at the beginning. “I was, so looking forward to that night. Everything seemed perfect. I saw him, in the audience you know...”

“Who?”

“The man who came to hear me sing. He came just for me. I believe he wanted to write a show and cast me as the lead. And when John said there was a message for me. Well I knew it would be from you.” You stop and take a quick sip of your own tea needing to steady yourself. Your hands are shaking. You haven’t said any of this out loud yet you realize. “When I—when I saw that it was not. I think that was the moment I knew you wouldn’t be coming back. Even if they hadn’t…” You touch the ribbon. “Just to find someone else standing where I’d hoped you might be made it clear to me that you had really gone. But I still had my voice I still had something. So after, when I lay in bed waiting just to speak, just to be able to say good morning to my nurse; I knew what it felt like to have nothing. I’ve never had nothing before.”

Your confession surprises you. It’s true. Even as a child with an empty belly you had your fathers stories to distract you from hunger. At Augustines you had Brigitte, in the streets you had determination and on the stage you had your voice. This summer you had the Baron.

And then, for those long lonely days and fitful nights you had nothing.

It was such a dark place, you’ve only just begun to pull yourself up from the pit. Having him here has sent you reeling and you feel as though you are flailing wildly for something to grab onto, anything to stop your world tumbling back into the abyss.

You don’t even realize that he’s come to you. He’s pulled you up and into his arms and you let him, though at first you are numb. He is after all the one who has caused so much of the pain, and he still hasn’t given you an answer, but the calming way he whispers to you, his language so soft and soothing, it does something, like breaking a dam and the tears come in a wave.

His arms are tighter until you think you will suffocate but you don’t care you are surrounded by him and you feel safe.

You haven’t told him yet, you don’t know if you will but you saw the obituaries.

Charles Jones. The name of the man who did it. The name of the man he killed.

You’d asked around and found out that he’d had his throat cut, and all the way. No rose stems to soften the blade for him.  The other that stood out only did so after Serena was found in her apartment inconsolable.

Unidentified man.

His name was Vasily Karpov.

They said it was suicide. That his body was unidentifiable, but it was figured out by the people who run the streets quick enough, and when word got back to your end of the city, you knew.

The war rumors had preceded anything you’d eventually learned about the Baron’s gentle nature on your own.

So, he would kill for you, but would he apologize?

You pull back and look up to find his eyes a bit red and misty.

“Why didn’t you come?” You ask again.

He gives a laugh, not because it’s funny, but because you are a most determined woman.

Smoothing your hair from your face, he kisses your forehead and cradles your cheek.

“Before this," He says glancing at your neck. "I had business abroad. Things left over from the war that I had no choice but to attend to. Things that could put you in danger if I were to say. But know this. I always meant to come back to you. I always meant to write. These unfortunate circumstances delayed my return and I am sorry. And after that..." He pauses, looks you over again and sighs. "Because I was scared.”

Though your frown is deep and stubborn, you feel yourself letting go of some of that anger. “I suppose I can forgive you for the letter. But you are not a coward Baron.”

“No… But I was scared to go through it again.”

You look away for a second, which is all it takes for you to make sense of it and your mood changes entirely.

“I have never known pain like it before.” He tells you, waiting, watching to see if you can even begin to understand.

To lose the one you love and a child? No, you can't. Only someone who has will ever know.

But you empathize finding it hard to imagine  that anyone would put themselves in a position to feel that sort of unbearable hell again. You can not be angry with him for that, though it will take time to heal the raw spot in your heart from all of those lonely hours spent not knowing why he hadn't come.

You look up at the Baron and for just a moment imagine what his life has been. You turn your physical pain into the loss he has endured and it threatens to make you mad. Quickly you reach up to lay your hand against his face until you mirror his gesture and you hold one another.

“I hope you never know it again.” You say, meaning it with all your heart.

His brows turn down at your kind words and it seems your compassion has him on the verge of breaking. You sense it; his fragility just waiting to feel safe enough to be seen. In an attempt to feel anything but the never ending hurt you now both seem doomed to share, you do what your body tells you to and surprise the Baron, pulling him down into a kiss, the soft sound of his muffled reaction against your mouth making your stomach flutter.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he bends to lift you up, his arm around the small of your back. You peek to see his eyes closed, his long lashes a little wet with tears that never fell as he happily submits to your solution to so much sadness.

Shutting your eyes again you sink into the kiss, your lips pressing against his as your tongue dares to enter his warm mouth and you find that kissing him feels as natural now as it did before all of this.

He easily carries you through from the parlor to the little sitting room where he goes down onto the settee with you on top of him; inhaling and exhaling one another until you pull away with a moan as his mouth finds the soft, sensitive and unscarred places along your neck. But when he gets close to the ribbon you make him stop.

“I thought you had forgotten me” You scold him softly breathing harder.

He looks so sorry. “Will you forgive me?”

“In time.” You say sitting up. “In time I think I can forgive a great many things.”

The Baron’s smile is wide and warm. Your lips meet again as you give in to everything you’d missed over these last few weeks.

It feels so good to have him here, so alive in your arms, no threat of him leaving, at least not yet…

Your hands move faster, his start to grab. You bury you fingers in his hair, your face rubbing against his, your mouth open as you consider more than the kiss… but, not yet.

“Wait” You breathe feeling the pressure start to mount when he pulls at your gown. “Please, I—I know you must think that I have done this before but, I have not.” You say leaning back to see him, your hands still on either side of his face.

The Baron is staring at you for so long you smile feeling nervous and see that he seems upset. “What is it?”

“I realize I’ve made it seem as though I would treat you as any other man might.” He says, still holding you by the small of your back.

You drop your hands and look away. You want to reply in a way that doesn’t dismiss his kind nature but you also hate that it’s true. “You’re a good man, but I’ve learned to expect it.”

He hangs his head with a sigh. “Then I have let you down in more ways than I imagined.”

“That’s not so.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No. I am a… I was a stage girl. I know what that means. Good man that you are, so do you.”

He groans looking away. “Najdraža, this world is not kind to women. I know it as do you. But you do not need to make such allowances for me. I was wrong to assume.”

“Thank you” You say, somewhat stunned. You never thought you’d live to hear any man say such a thing. “You may regret those words” you tease with a smile to which he laughs softly but there is a seriousness in his eyes when he looks at you again.

“That is not possible draga devojko, do you not know? Have I not made it clear?”

You shake your head with a wonderful nervousness.

He takes hold of your face and keeps you close, the soft depth of his voice resonating in your chest as he speaks “I love you, as I have never loved anyone.” He looks away and back. As if this isn’t enough he goes on “I will be honest with you now, yes?”

You nod, your lips pressed firmly together to hold in the breath and the tears

The Baron takes your hand looking down at nothing as he speaks. “I didn’t come to the hospital because I was scared to feel not only the pain of losing the woman I love again, but of being forced to sit by and actually watch it happen…” His voice gives out, broken by the emotion, and the tears that never came fall free. “The first time I was spared that misery. I did not think I would be so lucky twice.” He shrugs and you feel his free hand press a little harder against your back, “I am not a doctor mala ptica what could I have done? Burn castles to the ground, make men beg before they die. I can hunt and plot… but what is that when you are lying there dying and I can do nothing but watch.”

In answer, you gently smooth the tears from his face with your thumbs and fingers until he exhales sharply and uses the back of his own hand to dry his face.

Taking it, you turn his hand and pull him close, laying your cheek against the bruised knuckles he thought you wouldn’t notice. You kiss the worst of it and wonder how many times he must have struck the one he cut, or perhaps it was the one he threw from the window at the warehouse? It doesn’t matter, it’s finished now and you are thankful for his hands, capable of such vengeance, and yet gentle enough to show such love…

He is watching you, his eyes half lidded as he scans your face. “You know what I’ve done.” He realizes.

“I do”

There is a hint of worry in his voice. “And you will still have me?”

“I will.” You smile.

He turns his hand to hold yours and leans forward kissing you so gently you feel a shiver up your arms and legs.

“Do you love me?” He asks.

You brush the tip of his nose with yours. “Very much.”

“And will you let me care for you; right the wrongs I’ve done and help you heal from this?”

Your heart hurts as you answer “I will”

“Then please, would you call me by my first name?” He asks next, just barely kissing you again.

You place his hand flat over the top of your breast and do the same to him, feeling the steady, heavy pounding beneath his strong chest. “I would Helmut. I would always.”

His other hand leaves your back, you feel his fingers stroke up your neck and massage into your hair until he cradles you in one hand and holds your heart in the other. “And husband?” He asks finally, his brown eyes bright in the dim light of your theatre apartment.

Your smile gives away your answer before you say it, but you say it none the less.

“I will call you husband. And myself your wife, and I will say it with what is left of my voice.”

*

A wedding in a tiny country church and a reception held beneath the fire red and golden leaves of autumn may not be what the daughter of a Lord would have asked for. In fact a woman of status may have found it all rather disappointing. How fortunate then that you are the daughter of an artist, and the scene painted by natures brush is one you think of often as you journey by train to your new home in Sokovia.

By now the pamphlets will be full of the story as the usual source of tabloid fodder will have gone back to their country homes, leaving those left in the city starved for a good read. The mysterious Baron who married the stage girl just before winter should hold them off until spring —but you aren’t thinking of that as you glance up at the man who sits reading beside you now. Your husband.

When you smile at him he lays his hand on your knee, aware but glued to the page of the paper. One of substance and not gossip.

It’s not until the scenery begins to change that he looks up.

It’s all so wonderfully foreign to you. The pale sky you are used to grows a deep, heavy blue, and the trees are wide at the base growing narrow at their tops. Helmut watches out the window with you looking peaceful.

“Is this Sokovia?” You ask.

He nods. “The boarder. We’ll be at the station soon, and just at sunset.”

Sunset, you look back out the window catching your reflection.

You’ve put on your new coat in anticipation of the change in weather. The light brown fur frames your face. Your hair is high and modern. You look every bit the Baroness and in every way you are.

Every way but one.

Sunsets are followed by night…

You look back at Helmut again and take his hand, your heart beating so fast that you wonder if he can feel your quickened pulse in your fingertips.

[harry-leroy]

End of the Earth, End of the World, and Towards a Bright New Future! Pasio Legendary Telepathy AU  @cinnabunni5123 - I wrote more of the fic you gave me for the ask because I got inspired! (Also not me having at least 20 more fic prompts in my asks - I will get to those haha). Because you’re not familiar with Masters - it’s essentially a mobile game where all of the trainers from the various regions come together on an island called Pasio to compete in the Pokemon Masters League (PML). Each trainer is also paired with a pokemon to create a “sync pair” and you can collect trainers in the game (it’s a gacha game). Team Break is the evil team on the island - they want to steal Pokémon (so the usual evil scheming...). Lysandre and Sycamore just came to the game a few weeks ago! (and Leon just came yesterday!) 

- note: Malva is not technically in Masters (yet), but I couldn’t find someone better for Lysandre to talk to about evil plans heheheh. Also I have no idea how housing works in the game, so I just gave everyone accommodations I think they would have (Hoopa kinda controls things on this island so I felt like anything goes?) 

Anyway, hope you enjoy! Leaving below the cut for length + descriptions of injury! 

The room was hot, approaching uncomfortable. Augustine’s vision started to blur and everything got loud. The colors were... too much. Brilliant. Jarring. Hallucinatory. There they were, in the middle of Lysandre’s elegant foyer. 

“Xerneas,” Augustine managed to get out before he dropped his drink and collapsed on the ground. 

Those around him gasped or screamed from the sudden shock of it. Some moved out of the way. Another asked if there was a doctor nearby. One man moved the poor professor out of the way of the broken glass, though there was already blood dripping down his fingers. 

“What happened?” Lysandre pushed himself through the crowd. When he saw Augustine, his heart dropped. “Professor! Move. Out of my way,” 

He knelt down besides Augustine, who was stirring out of his stupor. It was then that Lysandre noticed just how tired the professor looked. 

“What happened to him?” Lysandre took hold of Augustine’s bleeding hand while he craned his head back on the crowd. 

“He just... fainted, I suppose,” one man said. 

Before Lysandre could snap at the man, Augustine touched Lysandre with his other hand. 

“Lys,” he said. “Don’t,” 

Lysandre looked back into the professor’s eyes, tired and sick. Augustine gave a little smile. Take me home, his eyes said. 

“Please excuse me while I make sure the Professor is all right,” Lysandre said to his guests, nodding to two of his household staff to take Augustine to an empty room. There were plenty of them, Lysandre knew, though he settled on the guest suite. 

The two helping Augustine set him down on an armchair. They had removed his jacket and draped it across the back of the chair. While one was about to bandage up his hand, Lysandre took the bandage away. 

“Leave us,” he snapped. 

“Sir,” they said in unison before closing the heavy oak door behind them. 

Lysandre wasted no time in getting to work on Augustine’s hand. 

“You should have told me you were ill,” he said, aware that Augustine’s eyes still looked hazy. 

“I wasn’t,” the professor protested, weak. “It just got so hot, and -“ 

“You’re worried about something,” Lysandre stopped his work for a moment to pose the statement. 

“I’m always worried about something. What’s new?” Augustine said. He was coming back around. 

“You need a break from your work. A day to rest. Stay at home. I’ve been begging you for months,” Lysandre started. 

“I can’t,” Augustine shook his head. “I can’t,” 

He then began to cry. It was soft, weak, barely there. 

“What’s wrong, my love?” Lysandre brushed Augustine’s hair aside out of his face. He was met with bright blue eyes, almost shockingly blue. 

“I’m losing my mind,” Augustine said. “This... thing!” 

He became exasperated, pressing his half-bandaged hand to his forehead. “It’s keeping me up at night, Lysandre. It’s poking me in the skull. It’s telling me something and I don’t know what it is,” 

“Shh,” Lysandre gently took the professor’s hand and continued working. Augustine pulled it away. 

“No,” Augustine snapped. “I don’t want you telling me to be quiet. You wouldn’t understand this,” 

“Then try to make me understand,” Lysandre said. 

“I’m... I’m cursed,” Augustine said, burying his head in his hands. “The day I went into the cave, I saw Xerneas. I saw them. I keep seeing them, but not in the nice way that they’re supposed to appear. It was like... like they’re sick. They needed help,” 

“Help?” Lysandre asked. “From what?” 

“I don’t know,” the professor pressed the backs of his palms into his eyes. “That’s what’s been keeping me up,” 

“Gus,” Lysandre took Augustine’s wrist, gentle, so that he saw one bright blue eye, “I know that you’re the Kalos regional professor, but these are legendaries you’re talking about,” 

“So?” Augustine took his hand away again and held it with his other healthy hand. He quickly began to run his fingers along the gauze. It was comforting to him, despite the wound being tender. “It’s not like it’s forbidden knowledge. Kids know about the legendaries. They’ve chosen people below us, you know,” 

“I see you’ve got some of your vanity back,” Lysandre had risen up to pour himself a drink. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Augustine said. “Why don’t you believe me?” 

“I never said that,” Lysandre noticed a slight tremor to his hand as he poured his drink. He contemplated getting one for Augustine, though he stopped himself. “I merely want you to consider what happened to you. You were stuck in that cave for hours. If this is Xerneas, trying to communicate with you as you say, what do you intend to do about it? I might believe you, but who else will?” 

Augustine was silent for a moment. 

“There might be someone,” he sighed. “I don’t know. I want to go home now,” 

“Of course,” Lysandre said. “You must be tired. I’ll get a taxi for you,” 

“No,” Augustine rose and put on his jacket. “I want to walk. I need to clear my head,” 

“Are you sure?” Lysandre asked. “It’s late,” 

“I can hold my own,” Augustine said, opening the door with his bad hand in the haste of it all. He bit his tongue. “Thank you for a nice evening,” 

****

The road was long to get back to his tiny hotel on Pasio. It was dark, chilly. Augustine still felt weak from his earlier episode. He placed one foot in front of the other and tried to focus on that. 

There were others who had teamed up with legendaries on Pasio, sure. None of them, however, had succumbed to symptoms such as the ones he had been dealing with. It was always a gentle, special moment. Solgaleo could be as playful as a Lycanroc, he remembered Kukui telling him as they watched Scottie and Hau battle on the mountain at sunrise. Ho-Oh and Silver met with a teasing nudge on the elbow. Zinnia and Rayquaza had met like old friends. Why was the giver of eternal life killing him? Who else would believe him? 

He stopped by a street lamp and pulled out his Poryphone- it was still taking getting used to, though he kept the Holo Caster in his coat pocket for comfort. 

“Calem?” Augustine began. “This is Professor Sycamore. I don’t mean to worry you...,” 

He began to lightly kick the lamppost, anything to distract him from the stabbing pain in his head and Xerneas’s cry ringing in his ears. 

“I’m fine. I just need you and Serena to come to town tomorrow. I’ll be waiting in front of the café at noon. I have something I want you two to look into for me,” he continued. “I don’t want anyone else. Come alone. Uh huh. Goodbye now,” 

He hung up. Way to keep the kids out of this mess. The pounding was getting worse. He was getting hot again, despite the cool air. Taking off his coat and jacket only did so much. 

“Xerneas,” Augustine stopped and pressed both palms against his temples. “Stop!” 

There was a cry. Brilliant light. Much like before. When Augustine looked up, he saw them. A great beast, regal, with magnificent horns shining through the darkness. 

“Xerneas!” he called, his head was white hot with pain and possible fever. “What are you trying to tell me? Why do you keep calling out to me? I can help you! You just need to stop hurting...” 

Faster than he could realize, Augustine felt the scrape of pavement against his face and palms. Xerneas was gone. He had fainted again, from what he could guess. It took him a few moments before he was able to sit up again, though when he did, he jumped back. 

“Hello,” a quiet voice said. “My partner told me that you were hurt,” 

“Um, I’ve been better,” Augustine tried to shrug it off. That would only get him so far. Lysandre’s voice echoed in his mind at that moment, though the young man standing before him was far different than Lysandre. He was young, gentle; there was something safe about him. 

“Come on,” the young man stretched out a hand. “We’ll get you to a Pokémon center,” 

“No,” Augustine managed to get up nearly by himself. “No, that won’t be necessary,” 

“My partner says you’re in danger,” the man said. 

“Partner?” Augustine asked, though it only took moments before he traced them in the dark. “Huh?! Is that... Zekrom?!” 

“Yes,” the man said. “Don’t be scared. They won’t hurt you,” 

“Who are you?” Augustine said. 

“My name is N,” the man said. “I’m from Unova,” 

“N...,” Augustine said. “You said Zekrom told you about me?” 

“Yes,” he nodded. “I can hear the inner voices of Pokémon. It’s my gift,” 

“And mine is overwork,” the professor attempted to walk past, though found himself too dizzy. Zekrom caught him with a wing. 

“Please let us help you,” N said. “The center is not far. You’re injured,” 

Augustine brushed a hand to his face when he found it ticklish. Blood dripped down on his fingers. 

“Please,” N said. Then a gentle smile came across him. He reminded Augustine of Lysandre, perhaps a decade ago. Augustine strangely felt like he could trust the man. It was only for scrapes after all, though what did N mean by danger? 

“Sure,” he said. “Lead the way,” 

****

“How could I be so foolish?” Lysandre said, pacing the room with a drink in hand. “Letting him off into the cold like that?” 

“Sometimes separation is best,” Malva said casually as she stirred her own drink. 

“I’m worried about him,” Lysandre said. 

“You’re always worried about him,” Malva tossed her head back. “You haven’t told him, have you?” 

“What, that I can hear Yveltal?” he snapped. “Absolutely not,” 

“Why? I thought this was all part of your brilliant plan?” she asked. 

“It is,” Lysandre stopped and looked out the window of his lonely house. “Only I don’t think he’ll like it. Telling him that I want him to rule my perfect world...” 

“When has this stopped you before?” Malva asked. 

“This time it’s different,” Lysandre said. It was all he could think to say. 

Malva set down her drink. 

“So what are you going to do? Watch him be driven mad thinking he’s hallucinating a ghost legendary?” she asked. 

“You were there when I first met Yveltal,” Lysandre didn’t take his gaze off of the window. “It’s a power you need to control. He just doesn’t have control yet. Gus is smart. He’ll figure it out,” 

“Maybe he needs someone there,” Malva said. 

“No,” Lysandre said, though only after hesitating a moment. “Malva, I can’t tell him. He’ll hate me,” 

“Then rethink your plan, genius,” she snapped. They were both drunk. 

“You wouldn’t understand,” he said. “No, I can’t tell him,” 

He left his drink on the table and walked out of the room. 

    ****    

“Took a fall, did you?” Nurse Joy asked when Augustine sat down on the examination table. 

“Something like that,” he said. He looked to N, who was standing against the wall with his arms crossed. He was brought back when he felt Nurse Joy touch his injured hand. 

“What happened there?” she asked. 

“I dropped a glass,” Augustine said. “I think,” 

She continued to examine the hand before taking off the bandages. He winced. Lysandre had been careful with dressing it, though it hadn’t done him any favors. His fingers were swollen. 

“I see,” she nodded and said something to her Chansey. 

“I don’t mean to bother you,” Augustine said. “Especially when you’ve been so busy with the league tournaments,” 

“Bothering me?” Nurse Joy asked before laughing. It was genuine, warm.  “This is my job. I like getting human patients in once in a while. Gives me someone besides Chansey to talk to,” 

“Right,” Augustine said. “You wouldn’t happen to have something for a headache, would you?” 

“I think a place to rest for the night would be more beneficial,” N spoke up. “It’s late,” 

Before Augustine could speak up, Nurse Joy let go of his hand and gave a little bow. 

“Of course,” Nurse Joy said. “I’ll get on that right away,” 

Chansey returned with a Leavanny and both gave a nod to Nurse Joy. 

“Leavanny will take care of your hand,” she said. “I’ll go get some keys for your rooms. Please stay as long as you like,” 

Augustine could only nod politely before she left and Leavanny began poking at his hand. He expected more pain, having it stitched up like this, but there was a delicacy in Leavanny’s work that no person could emulate. It made him think of his days with Rowan, growing fonder and fonder of research. Still, the pain in his head prevented him from looking. 

“I can’t really stay, you know,” Augustine said. 

“Why not?” N asked. 

“My hotel isn’t far,” the professor returned. 

“I hardly trust you’ll get good sleep in a hotel,” N said. “I’ve traveled too much to know. Besides, Zekrom was worried about you, so I am too,” 

“You hardly know me,” Augustine said. “I haven’t even told you my name, and yet -” 

His Poryphone rang. He had no choice but to put it on speaker. N sank back into his spot on the wall, looking down at his feet. 

“Hello?” he asked. 

“Professor?” it was Serena. She was worried. 

“Yes, Serena,” Augustine said. “What’s wrong?” 

“You’ve got to come quick. Those Team Break guys have taken your Bulbasaur! I don’t know how it happened, but… I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed. 

“Calm down,” he said, feeling an uncomfortable poke in his hand and wincing a little. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ve gotten somewhat… tied up,” 

“I’m near the base of the mountain. Hurry! I don’t know how much longer I can wait!” she said before hanging up. 

N looked up, determined and urgent. 

“I’m going to help,” he said. 

“With what?” Augustine asked, impatient to get his hand finished with. 

“Your Bulbasaur,” N said. “I can’t let Team Break get away with this,” 

“No,” Augustine said. “It’s my Bulbasaur. I don’t expect you to -” 

“It was nothing about expectation,” N said. “I just can’t let them do that,” 

Augustine nodded. 

“I’ll be back by morning,” N said. “You should get some rest. It seems that you’ve had a long enough day,” 

He left through the door and nearly bumped into Nurse Joy. 

“Heading out already?” she asked. 

“I am,” N said. “But make sure that he stays here. I’m worried about him. I should be back by morning,” 

“I’ll try my best,” she said. 

“That’s all I ask,” he said as he exited the doors to the center. Without hesitation, Zekrom followed him from behind. 

“We need to go to the mountain, friend,” he said. “Another friend is in trouble!” 

From behind the desk and through the glass windows, Nurse Joy watched them ride off into the night sky. 

[gohyuck]

Kaitlin - Angelo De Augustine it’s my favorite sad song I know you will do good with it

warning: mentions of sex... and this one’s kind of long honestly

“you can drop me off here, right out front.” you speak quietly, turning your head to look at mark and see if he’s heard you. judging by how clenched his jaw is, he has, but he ignores you anyways, pulling into the parking lot in front of the building where tickets are sold. his blatant disregard for your wishes makes your eye twitch, but you suppose beggars can’t be choosers. you’d certainly had to beg for mark to help you run away, telling him mid-thrust that you’re going to live in true heat-of-the-moment fashion.

he’d only paused for a moment, shaken his head once before fucking you so into his bed so hard you’d cried. his headboard had banged against the wall repeatedly for what felt like a lifetime, the only thing keeping your head from hitting wood being mark’s hand cushioning you like always. you know that, come morning, he’ll have a noise complaint on his hands. come morning, you’ll be 500 miles away.

“got everything?” mark asks once he’s parked, idly gesturing towards your fully packed backpack. you don’t bother checking - you don’t have much to take, and your money is safe on your person. you don’t nod, nor do you shake your head. you don’t have to - it’s mark. he knows, he always knows.

“this is it, then?” just as you’re about to push open the door of his beat up pickup truck, he asks the damning question, tone obviously angry, torn. your hand stops mid air, and you retract it from the handle slower than you thought humanly possible. he continues, paying you no heed even as he’s speaking pointedly at you. “you’re just upping and leaving? you’ve never known jackshit outside of this fucking town, and you’re just... going? why? for what?”

“there’s nothing left for me here, mark.” you respond, voice scratchy from lack of use. you don’t elaborate, not when the man beside you rakes his fingers through his hair at the sound of you saying his name. when he looks at you, you know that, in that instant, he’s learned what disappointment is.

he wants to ask, it’s obvious - he wants to hand you a ‘not even me?’, a phrase too neat and pretty and succinct to ever be about the two of you. he wants to ask, but he won’t, because mark knows your need to get out is far greater than your need to stay, regardless of who you’re leaving behind. regardless of the fact that it’s him you’re leaving behind. finally, finally, mark sighs, relaxing - deflating, really.

“i hope you find someone to love wherever you end up.” he says, leaning over to push your door open for you. in that moment, the second your eyes meet his, you can’t help yourself: you grab the collar of his worn brown jacket, mashing your mouth against his. before you can lose your grip and your sight on your waiting Greyhound bus ticket, you hop out of his truck with your bag, slamming the passenger’s door shut behind you. he tastes like watermelon, and now watermelon is all that’s on the top of your tongue. it’s all you’ll taste for the next day.

in the car, mark watches you go, face void of emotion. his heart is shattering, but he refuses to let it show, refuses to give you the upper hand even when you’re not here. it’s only once you’re completely out of sight that mark tears his eyes away from the ticket building in front of him, shifting his gear.

tears flow freely down his face as he drives home. he ignores them, even as the salt drags across his lips, washing away the remnants of your kiss.

you might’ve left him behind, but you’re taking his heart forward with you.

please don’t send any more!

[1000scrubs]

Round 2: Titus Mede II

Writer Titus Mede II ‘s entry for August 2021

ANTONIO ALBUS AURELIUS XVII sat in a chair bearing his name. He was waiting in a dark, seemingly infinite room, remembering neither why he was there nor how he got there. He concentrated hard, trying to think back to remember anything that could help him figure out what the Hell was going on. He could vaguely remember… robes? A stick? No, think harder… a beard? Nothing useful came to Antonio’s poor, empty head. Indeed, it was as empty as this void he was sitting in. But then—

“Bad morning to you,” said the dark-clad man, who had just entered the room from a doorway that had not existed a second earlier. The man was rather large, and after closing the door and turning around, Antonio got a proper look at him. He had a large mustache and an extremely fancy three-piece suit, though the fabric seemed impossibly dark. He had a large hat atop his head, and underneath the brim were his unsettling silver eyes. The look of him gave Antonio a feeling of visceral fear, though he could not tell why.

“Oi, you this pompous Aurelius sounding fella?” asked the man, who spoke in a thick Cockney accent.

“Yes, I am Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII. Where am I?” asked Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII.

“Well, ‘Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII’ — mind if I call you Tony? Nah, of course you don’t — you have been lucky enough to arrive here, in Hell, where you shall spend the rest of eternity being tortured in my district of New Los Angeles! Oh, but I suppose you won’t understand that reference.”

“What in G— in G— what? What in Go—“

“Oh, you can’t say that name here. Don’t even try. It’s a bit petty, if you ask me, but it’s not up to me! Anyway, my name is Tommy. I’m here to answer any questions you have before you are sent into New Los Angeles.”

Though Tommy’s blasé nature made him feel somewhat less uncomfortable, Antonio was rather confused. He had no idea what this “New Los Angeles” is, or how he had ended up in Hell. “Well,” he started, “for starters, I can’t remember a thing about my life on Earth. What exactly did I end up doing to get down here?”

Tommy chuckled. “Oh, where do I start? First of all, practicing the Arcane Arts is an instant no-no to the Big Man Upstairs. Massacring an entire village probably didn’t help either. But what threw you over the edge was definitely the time you—“

“No, no, this has to be some sort of mistake. I didn’t do any of this stuff, I’m a good man! There has to be some sort of trial, or appeal, or something! This isn’t fair!”

“Fair? Tony, you’re in Hell, there is no more ‘fair’. Except Jimmy’s ‘Fun Fair of Fantastical Flying Feet’, were you are mercilessly pelted by— you know, I should stop getting so sidetracked, I’ve got 12,000 other people to orient after you before my shift is over. No, Tony, there’s no appeal, there’s no trial, and I think I’ve answered all of your questions. So peace out, and make sure you follow my TikTok when you get to the Social Media Torture Tower!”

Antonio started to object. “Wait, you haven’t answered my—“ but before he could finish, Tommy was gone, instantly returning through the doorway that had been there a second ago. He was now immensely confused, perhaps even more so than before. However, before Antonio had any time to think about what just happened, or why the demon was so well dressed, he was suddenly sucked through space to another location in the most painful way imaginable.

“Ianuae Magicae!” he shouted instinctively. The pain and the sensation of movement stopped; he had broken through whatever ethereal force had been moving him, and was in what appeared to be an infinitely large library. Antonio scoffed. “Another damned infinitely large room? And full of books? What, is this some kind of nerd kingdom? I’ve just gotta find a way out of here.”

“The exit’s over there,” someone said behind him. Antonio turned around quickly, and was greeted by the sight of a normal librarian, albeit looking extremely tired.

Antonio narrowed his eyes, not knowing what to expect. “Excuse me?”

“You want to leave the library, right? So instead of wandering around and making a racket, there’s the exit. Now get out and let me get back to re-reading the end of the Eragon trilogy, it’s the least terrible thing in this library.”

Antonio didn’t want to be in the vicinity of anyone who would even think of reading something like that recreationally, so he took her advice and left through the doorway she pointed out. He then found himself in an infinite-looking corridor, which looked like something right out of a 1980s office building. Antonio started walking aimlessly, but what seemed like hours later, he was still going down the same corridor with no end in sight. Fed up with his predicament, he opened the nearest door and went in. It turned out to be an elevator, so he clicked on the top level and waited.

When Antonio’s eyes finally opened, he could not quite understand what he was looking at. It seemed he had fallen asleep during the impossibly long elevator trip, but having arrived at the top, he was now seeing a gigantic, gothic-styled room that was entirely colored in black with red accents. The wall to his right was one giant, uninterrupted window, with a red hue shining from the outside. In front of the middle of the window was an ominous looking throne and a desk, with a villainous chandelier hanging above. Running out of adjectives to describe this room, Antonio noted the oppressive and boiling hot atmosphere inside the room before stepping inside. He sat down at the throne and started going through the desk, finding many files that seemed to detail the various operations of Hell. Antonio finally realized… he was sitting in the Devil’s chair.

“That’s kinda neat-o,” he thought to himself. As anyone would, he immediately went to look for his file. “Hmm, ‘Antony A. Augustine’, ‘Anthony A. Andreas’… ah, here we go, ‘Antonio A. Aurelius'! Oh, of course there are 17 of them… there it is: ‘Antonio A. Aurelius XVII’”

Antonio opened his file and was shocked to see the photograph inside. He saw a picture of a rather horrific looking man, with a gaunt and sickly looking face, terrible hair, and unsettling eyes. Shrugging this disturbing revelation aside, he looked back into the file and started reading it. “Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII, born in 13th century Tuscany? Exemplary record… lived a nearly flawless early life? If only he hadn’t chosen to become a necromancer!?”

This deeply shook Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII. Though it turned out Tommy had been exaggerating, as Antonio had apparently lived a good life outside of necromancy. Nobody had liked him of course, being a heretic necromancer who looked like some kind of cheap horror movie character, but Antonio had still provided valuable services when people had needed them. “I shouldn’t be here,” he thought. “I should be up in Heaven. I can only imagine how many other mistakes like this have been made…”

Antonio looked around some more and found a computer in Satan’s desk. He wouldn’t have thought that they used computers in Hell, but it made more and more sense the more he thought about it. Naturally, Satan’s password was “password”, and Antonio decided he would take advantage of the situation to implement some cosmic justice. He would bring balance to the universe, being a righteous man given the power of God.

After typing in a few commands, Antonio hit the return key like it had owed him money. Satisfied, he got up and turned around to look out of the massive panoramic window. He could see a vast ocean of lava, with a coast that was blackened and rocky, looking inhabitable and yet lit up with the bright lights of many settlements, which were all doubtless places where the residents of Hell were tortured. As he watched, he saw hundreds of bright beams of light flash from the muddy red sky straight down to the ground. He smiled to himself, just as he heard a colossal crash behind him.

“What in the Hell,” bellowed the Devil, “has conspired here?” The Devil walked into the room, the ruined remains of the main door behind him. His voice sounded of pure power, with an impossibly booming level of bass that Antonio could feel in his bones. He was the size of 3 men, with a large forked tail and two large horns protruding out of his forehead, which was maroon, matching the rest of his body.  “I’m taking my first vacation in millennia, enjoying my time in San Diego, when I’m informed that some unauthorized low-life scum is in my personal office? And not just any unauthorized low-life scum, a resident?”

The Devil looked Antonio up and down, his glowing red eyes seeming to see straight into every cell in Antonio’s body. His sharp teeth became visible through his grin, then he started laughing. “Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII? You’ve just made your stay here in Hell… so much worse.”

With a motion of Satan’s hands, Antonio was restrained by some glowing red binds. Before Satan could continue, an extremely fit man dressed in white robes blasted straight through the panoramic window with contempt. He had short black hair with piercing, almost luminescent blue eyes. His clean-shaven jaw looked sharp enough to use as a weapon, and everything about him made Antonio feel inferior in every way. Even looking at the man for too long started to make his eyes hurt. Effortlessly hovering in the air, now with no discernible expression of emotion, he went over to Satan and looked him straight in the eyes. Satan, on the other hand, was seemingly unable to hold his gaze, and looked away.

“The Lord would like to express His dissatisfaction with you, Lucifer,” he said matter-of-factly in an extremely posh-sounding British accent, his voice sounding impossibly clear and extremely commanding. “There is a holy pact that has gone back to the founding of the universe. I know your kind doesn’t take kindly to any amount of reason or honor, but even I didn’t expect you to do something like this.”

Before the intimidating-looking man from Heaven could continue, Satan interjected. “I have done nothing of the sort, knave! This is the work of this dark magician, Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII.”

The man from Heaven turned around and sighed heavily. “Please, you expect me to believe that? You lot really are pathetic.”

Satan growled with irritation. He turned to Antonio. “What did you do?” he asked in a low, hushed voice.

Antonio smiled to himself and puffed up his chest, entirely overconfident and forgetting his place. “I have done what you are either too evil or too unintelligent to do,” he said, looking at both Satan and the well-dressed man from Heaven, the latter of whom immediately raised his eyebrow. “I have sent the best half of all people in Hell to Heaven. These people did not deserve to be here. They made mistakes in life, yes, but were ultimately good people.

The immaculately dressed man from Heaven scoffed. He turned to Lucifer and said, “Do you take the Lord and all of us in Heaven for fools, expecting us to believe this utter shamble? Could you have not picked a more convincing low-life to take the fall for you?”

“I know nothing of the situation!” Satan shouted angrily. He started storming over to the computer. Antonio stood by, unflinching, in total confidence that he had done the right thing.

“I mean, seriously,” continued the really very fancy looking man from Heaven. “If you’re going to come up with some pathetic excuse, don’t pick one we will so obviously know isn’t true. There has been no such influx of your heathenry to Heaven. Spending so much time down here really does reduce God’s creations to absolute worthlessness.”

Antonio was confused upon hearing this. How did none of the people he freed show up in Heaven? And why is the man from Heaven so rude? All of a sudden, he heard a bellowing roar from Satan, who promptly punched him with cosmic force. Antonio flew across the room, before hitting a television mounted on the wall. The force of the impact completely destroyed the TV, and Antonio was now lying on the ground reeling in pain.

“Do you realize what you have done!?” Satan was furious. “You will burn in the deepest circle of Hell for all eternity—I will torture you myself!”

The impeccably dressed man from Heaven scoffed again. “Are you seriously pretending to not know what happened? A man of God such as myself will not be so easily fooled by your pathetic tricks, Lucifer.”

“Don’t call me that! And you—” he turned to Antonio, who was now entirely aware that he was little more than an ant compared to everyone else in the room, then continued. “All you have done is send the WORST half of all people in Hell back to EARTH!”

The man with a perfect sense of fashion from Heaven interjected before the Devil could continue. “Finally, you admit to your wrongdoings, you traitorous wretch! I trust you realize that this surely means war, I was sent here to find out why this has happened and I have found no compelling reason whatsoever!”

The Devil sat still for a moment. “I suppose there is nothing else to be done in this situation.” He picked up a mobile phone and started typing an angry Tweet announcing his intentions. After he finished, he moved over to his desk, where he drafted and signed a document that was naturally written using someone’s blood. Probably someone who hated pens, documents, or both. He then got up and handed it to the hovering man from Heaven.

“A declaration of war? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, coming from such animals as you. I shall take this up to the Lord Himself, who shall surely destroy you once and for all. See you never,” he said, before flying straight out of the window and disappearing into the sky, sending a sonic boom echoing throughout Hell. Satan then turned to face Antonio, who was nowhere in sight.

Antonio, still in disbelief that he had manage to slip away undetected, was running as fast as he could to try and get as much distance between himself and the Devil as possible. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t looking where he was going, and ran straight into a guardrail with enough speed to flip straight over it, helplessly falling straight into some sort of magic portal that was stationed several miles below.

#

Antonio awoke again, though this time instead of being presented with the depressing sight of Satan’s office, he could feel a pleasant breeze on his face and grass beneath him. Sitting up, he looked around to see grassy rolling hills with a city in the distance. The view was short-lived, though, as soon a large aircraft dropped a gigantic bomb, destroying the entire city in one blast. Not ten seconds later, a missile shot up from the top of a faraway hill, striking the plane and destroying its wing. The plane faltered, then fell out of the sky, crashing down into a field with all of its explosives onboard, causing an even more massive explosion that wiped out a nearby town. Antonio heard gunfire behind him, and turned around to see two armies fighting each other. The two armies ran at each other and Antonio could only imagine the ridiculous amount of bloodshed going on.

Suddenly, amidst the fighting of the two armies, a giant red portal opened up out of the Earth. Soldiers started falling in, only to come flying back out impaled on the horns of giant red demons that had erupted out of the portal. The demons landed on the ground and promptly started tearing both armies to pieces. Before Antonio could even comprehend what was happening, another giant white portal appeared in the sky. Hundreds of people who looked similar to the man from Heaven he saw earlier flew out like Supermen, some riding on giant chanting chariots, all of them without any weapons at all. The demons, seeing this, roared with ferocity and left into the sky to fight them, with the humans, now fighting side by side on the ground, shooting at their backs. The angels and demons met some thousand feet off the ground, combining cosmic blows that destroyed everything on the ground for miles. It seemed as though each angel could easily destroy a hundred demons at a time, but more and more demons kept appearing. More and more fighting was happening, clearing away anything and everything else in the sky, and knocking Antonio hundreds of feet along the ground even though he was far, far away from the fight.

Stunned, Antonio sat up again, ears ringing and completely covered in dust and debris from the blasts in the distance. Through his blurred vision he looked around him. The countryside was destroyed, and the cosmic forces were nowhere to be seen, surely having moved the fight elsewhere. Antonio tried to stand, but his body was too sore from being thrown about. He blacked out.

#

Antonio awoke once more, and now was greeted with the sight of a hospital. The inside of a hospital, that is. In fact, now that he’s waking up properly, Antonio noticed that this hospital was completely overcrowded. The nurse came over and looked him up and down. “I’m not sure why you’re still here, but get up and get out. Go down the hall and to the left.”

He wasn’t particularly surprised by her rudeness, given the circumstances, so he got up and went down the hall she mentioned. Even in the hall, there were bandaged people strewn all about the ground. “This is truly apocalyptic,” Antonio thought to himself, trying not to think about how he had caused it all. Upon reaching the end of the hall, he decided that he was a maverick, and went right instead of left. After a short walk, he found himself in what appeared to be a recruitment center.

“Another recruit— oh, God, you’re an ugly one aren’t you?” noted a man with an extremely well-featured face was sitting at a desk. “Never mind that, all able-bodied discharges go through there,” he said, pointing to a door just past his desk. Antonio, deciding that being a maverick hadn’t been very beneficial for him, elected to do as the man said. In a blur, he was given armor and a strange weapon, and loaded into a large metal carriage that seemed to drive itself with a bunch of other men, many of whom were covered in bandages. Antonio judged he was somewhere in the American Midwest, though the world had devolved into complete chaos as millions of the worst people who ever lived had been brought back to life.

From talking with the other soldiers, Antonio had learned that several major nations had been taken over by some of these people, who had immediately started violent wars in as many parts of the world as they could manage. Most large cities had already been destroyed by bombs they called “nuclear”, and now that the demons and angels were fighting each other, even more of the world had been completely destroyed. One soldier even said that Mount Everest had been completely leveled. Antonio was completely wracked with guilt, knowing he had caused all of this.

Suddenly the transport stopped, and the commander shouted to Antonio and his fellow soldiers to get out. Antonio got out and ran, before looking back and seeing a demon flying straight into his transport. An angel flew up and emitted a pure white beam of light from his bare hand, which shot straight into the demon and obliterated him.

“Children of God,” he started, turning to the soldiers. “Fear not, for the Lord shall protect you. Retreat to safety, and let us handle this threat.” He then rose into the air, and flew impossibly fast into the distance, causing a massive sonic boom that startled all the soldiers.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Antonio asked his commander.

The commander sat and thought for some time. “Listen,” he began. “We are completely outgunned in this fight. I think the flying man is right, we have no hope of defeating the enemy with what we have. There’s an old nuclear bunker 20 klicks that way.” He pointed to his left side, then continued, “Carry your weapons with you, let’s march.”

About 10 miles in, the march was disrupted. Right in front of the group, a demon came crashing down after being thrown what looked like hundreds of miles. Still disoriented, he opened his eyes and tried to look around.

“Fire! Fire! Give it everything you’ve got!” bellowed the commander. Every soldier opened fire, pumping hundreds of rounds into the demon. After what felt like 5 minutes of straight shooting, they let up. The demon looked as though he had merely been shot with a super soaker, and just looked at them. Seeing the terror on their faces, he smiled, and stood up, but then stopped after hearing a loud boom behind him. He turned around and couldn’t see anything, but suddenly an angel flew down out of the sky and kicked his head clean off. The angel turned to face the soldiers, and despite all of the brutal fighting, there wasn’t a single speck of dirt anywhere on her. Her long, flowing golden hair didn’t even look the slightest bit disturbed.

“You should all get to safety,” she said in what sounded like a Greek accent. “We are pushing the enemy back, but it’s still not safe to be out here. We will let you know when the demons have all been taken care of, and remember that you are all under the Lord’s eternal protection.” She then flew far up into the sky, until Antonio couldn’t see her anymore.

“Let’s keep marching,” said the commander. “The sooner we get to that bunker, the better.” They resumed the march, and only saw fighting happening in the distance for the rest of the trip. Upon arriving at the bunker, they turned on the radios and waited for their all-clear signal. And they waited. And waited some more. Until Antonio couldn’t bear waiting, and faded into darkness.

#

Antonio opened his eyes, as he had done many times after being stuck in that bunker. They waited 2 years for the all-clear signal, emerging from the bunker to see practically nothing left on the surface. The angels remained on Earth for some time to regenerate the natural resources that had been destroyed, then most left. The few who stayed provided support for some time, but then they left as well. Antonio traveled around for several years afterwards, trying to find somewhere proper to stay, but the world had largely been thrown back into the pre-industrial era. Nevertheless he persisted, traveling across the North American continent to help whom he could. Instead of necromancy, he learned healing magic to try and aid the people he came across along the way.

One day, Antonio found an old map of the United States. He instantly recognized most of the regions he had visited, but one area stuck out to him as strange. “Wyoming?” He’d never heard of this place, nor had he ever been there. He decided that this is where he would visit next, and after a few months of being on the road, he finally arrived and was shocked to see that it seemed entirely untouched.

After traveling into the city outskirts, Antonio looked around. Many people walked about freely with not a care in the world, all of them looking pristine in luxurious looking clothing. They reminded Antonio of the angels he had seen, though that must’ve just been how people looked right before the apocalypse. There were so many cars on the road that they actually had to stop and line up in turns to wait for each other, and all were driven by regular people rather than military personnel. Antonio looked back at the sidewalk and saw a man walking towards him. He held a small black slab in his hand that shone on his face, and was wearing very high quality clothing. Antonio walked up to him and grabbed his shoulder .

“What happened here?” Antonio asked, stunned at what he had just seen.

“Hey, what the hell? Watch yourself buddy, or I’ll call the police! Now I don’t know if you want any money or anything, but why don’t you go beg somewhere else instead of bothering me, ok?” He turned around and started walking away. Antonio grabbed his shoulder again, this time not letting go.

“What happened here? This place looks like it wasn’t destroyed in the war, that’s impossible!”

“War? What are you talking about? Are you pretending to be a time traveler or something? Or are you one of those people who like to play dress-up? And God, you reek, get away from me!”

Antonio grabbed him with both hands. “The war, the angels and the demons, it was years ago! Back in 2021!”

“Look, dude, I’m calling the cops. There was no ‘war’ in 2021, all that happened was the electrical grid crash and all the movies got canceled.” He started fiddling with his device, but then got frustrated and gave up. “And the damn cell service went to shit. But I’m pretty sure we would’ve noticed if there was a war.”

Antonio was in disbelief. “The rest of your country is destroyed! The entire world is destroyed! This state of ‘Wyoming’ is the only place left, and you don’t even know what happened?”
 The man from Wyoming shrugged. “To be honest… we don’t really pay attention to the rest of the world. And they don’t pay any attention to us. What you’re saying… it would sort of make sense why all those movies never came out… do you have any photos of it on your phone?”
 Antonio collapsed to the ground. “So what you’re telling me is,” he started, out of breath. “This place was left untouched… because everyone forgot about it?”

“Yeah, probably. I dunno, dude.  I think I should probably call someone to come get you.”  He started looking around, before pulling his glowing slab back out again.

“No, no… I don’t understand… just give me a moment.” Antonio lay down on the ground and covered his face. He could hear the murmurs of other pedestrians watching in confusion. Soon he sat back up and looked around, only to see a seemingly endless sea of faces in front of him. “Wait, no… please…” He turned to look at the man he had been speaking with, but he was no longer there.

The crowd parted, and two mustached men dressed in blue uniforms donning gleaming silver badges came through. Antonio couldn’t comprehend what was happening. They restrained him and put him in the back of a car. Antonio watched the surreal sight of the city pass him by; everything looked exactly as it must have been before the apocalypse. Antonio had not been in a car for many years, and the sensation of moving so fast was starting to make him sick.

Thankfully, the car stopped outside of a large, intimidating building. The uniformed men dragged him in and up to a woman standing by a desk.

“What is your name?” the woman asked him.

“I am Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII. I am from Tuscany of the 13th Century. I died and went to Hell, but accidentally caused the apocalypse when I tried to send half of the people in Hell to Heaven.”

“Oh, really? Here, walk with me, and you can tell me all about it.” Antonio started following the woman down the hallway.

“Yes. I’m a necromancer, you see. Or, I was. But that’s  why I was in Hell. I somehow managed to get into the Devil’s offices, and on his computer I tried to send the best half of people to Heaven. It was a sort of cosmic justice, you know?”

“Oh, for sure,” the woman responded. Antonio could sense that she wasn’t particularly interested in the conversation, but he continued nonetheless.

“Yeah, so it turns out I got it backwards, I suppose. I sent the worst half of people to Earth, instead of the best half to Heaven. So this angel came down and Satan ended up declaring war, I suppose.”

“Angels and demons, eh? I’m all ears,” the woman said, completely uninterested.

“I managed to escape, and then I somehow ended up back on Earth. This was way back in 2021, of course, before the apocalypse. Which happened immediately after I returned. There were already nuclear wars and whatnot, but the war of the angels and demons really devastated the world, you know?”

The woman nodded. “Of course, we all saw it, right?”

“Yeah, finally, someone who knows what happened! So I ended up in a bunker during the war, for several years while the angels finished off the demons. Then I traveled around the country, I learned proper healing magic so that I could help people. Then I heard of this place, ‘Wyoming’, and came over here to check it out. You guys seem to be the only part of the world that was left untouched. It seems as though everybody forgot you existed.”

“Yes, we are used to that; that was a fascinating story, but we’ve arrived at your room. You can stay here as long as you like, you’ll be perfectly safe and taken care of.”

Antonio was startled, but very excited at this news. “Oh, thank you so much!” He eagerly rushed into the room, which was largely empty. “Hey, wait, this room doesn’t even have a—” He was cut off by the door closing and locking. The room was padded, and there was nothing but a light in the roof and a bed in the corner. Antonio knocked on the doors for hours, trying to get someone to talk to him, but nobody answered. Eventually, some food slipped through a hatch in the wall, and some time after that he was restrained and escorted to a restroom. He tried to talk to the guards, but they didn’t respond, and he was locked back in the room.

Eventually, Antonio lost track of the days, the months, then the years. One day, he fell asleep on his bed as he had done thousands of times before, but when he woke, he sat in a familiar black void. An invisible door opened, and he saw a familiar face come through.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII.” He laughed fiendishly. “We’ve been waiting for you down here. Let’s see…” He pulled out Antonio’s file, then continued, “Necromancy. Nasty business, that. But let’s just skip this part and get to the real juicy bit.” He licked his finger, then flipped the page. “Insurrection against the natural order. Impersonating the Devil. Unauthorized actions compromising the realm of Hell. Actions causing the release of people from Hell. Returning to Earth without permission. Actions directly causing the death of millions on Earth. And perhaps the worst of all: directly causing the Intergalactic Wyoming Empire to become the dominant human civilization—for the foreseeable future, at least. Seriously?” He leaned in closely, then continued, “they would never have known if you never went there!”

He slammed the file shut with a satisfied grin on his face. “There’s a special place down here for you. I don’t think any human has ever been there, so congratulations on becoming the first! You should take it as a compliment, really,” Tommy said, leaning back in his chair. He began fiddling with his mustache. “And I suppose I can use it as bragging rights. ‘Tommy, the torturer who was once assigned to the infamous Tony Aurelius!’ I like the sound of that!” He laughed again. “Oi, mind if I take a quick video of the two of us for my socials? I could use this cred’. And you’ll probably look disfigured forevermore once the Boss starts his work on you, so I should get in early y’know?”

Antonio, having not listened to Tommy for some time, did not respond, but only hung his head in shame. He didn’t know what was in store for him, but he did feel that he deserved it. He had officially become the worst person to have ever lived.

——-

Who: A necromancer with a heart of gold What: Causes the apocalypse When: The year 2021 Where: In Hell Why: To bring balance to the universe

[reapers-carino]

Ife Mi

Five months had passed since that fateful night and each day had felt like blissful paradise and anxious agony. Akande Ogundimu’s face had been plastered on every news station, domestic and international, for a month after his escape. The news speculated over who broke him out, how or if he was involved in the death of the sketchy Venitian businessman Augustin Venturo, and what plans the man had since he had escaped. You, of course, had been interviewed by several different authorities;  the Numbani Police Department, the Nigerian Armed Forces, and even Interpol. Each interview had ended in failure, however. There was no footage that showed the man at your compound of a home, nor was there any evidence, scenting or otherwise, that indicated that the man had even made contact with you in recent months. So after each individual interview, you ended up back at home, patiently waiting for the signal that you would soon be reunited with your mate.

Sighing softly, your eyes darted away from the news reel that scrolled lazily along the bottom of your vanity’s mirror and up to the picture from your mating/marriage ceremony and celebration. That had been one of the happiest days of both of your lives, the smiles stretched across both of your faces so genuine and gleeful. Akande and you were both dressed in rich, bright reds; your crimson gele and iro embroidered with hand-stitched golden flowers and hundreds of shimmering pearlescent beads. Your buba was a golden cream in color, the beading a softer pink in color with a neckline that showed off your collarbones and shoulders. Akande’s sokoto and buba were the same gold-cream color as your own, his agbada and fila a more masculine version of your gele and iro. You were tucked neatly against his side, his arm wrapped tight around your waist as the both of you stared into one another’s eyes as if you were the only two people that existed in the world. It had been a beautiful day, a mere few months after his accident and subsequent prosthesis installation. Your fingers trailed over the picture in the mirror, smiling melancholy before you remembered why you had initially sat down.

The shea and argan creme that you had been untwisting your hair with laid forgotten, half of your hair had been untwisted, the other half still stuck in those two strand twists that you had patiently plaited your hair into the night before. Dipping your fingers in the creme, you began the dance again; zoning out as you made your way through the rest of your hair. Carefully you pushed the twisted curls up using your fingertips, gelling down your edges and smiling contently as you wrapped a scarf around them.

“Wow...que bonito. But god that took forever”

Your eyes went round, grabbing the blaster pistol that was affixed to the underside of your vanity. There was no one in the mirror and no discernible scent in the air that your nose could catch onto. Jumping up, your vanity seat flew back, almost clattering to the ground as you turned, only to have the seat stop inches from the ground.

“What the--”

The chair slowly lifted up from its impossible hovering position before being stood upright once more.  Pointing your gun in the general direction of the chair, your eyes darted left then right and left again, still unable to see who, or what, was in the room with you.

“You should be careful with where you point that thing.”

You barely bit back a snarl as you twisted to see just where in the hell the voice was coming from, confusion wrinkling your brow. It felt like she was mocking you, playing

“Hey calm down, I’m a friend.”

The voice practically purred from right next to her, a scarf appearing from thin air and dropping onto your chair. The scent slammed into you like a wall, knees wobbling briefly as your grip on the pistol weakened before tightening. Sunflower and nutmeg and amber with the delicious tinge of citrus, the scent of an impending rut wrapping so tightly around your senses you thought you might choke. Tears stung traitorously in your eyes as you slowly lowered your pistol, knowing there was no way anyone would have gotten such a strongly scented item from Akande without his permission.

“There you go…”

A woman glimmered to life in front of you; long, dark hair dyed and side shaven, warm brown skin accented by varying shades of purple, blue and indigo. The mischievous smirk that creased her lips gave you pause before she extended her hand to you, long nails--no gloves, perhaps both--gently scratching the back of your hand as you shook her’s.

“Akande sent me to pick you up”, she said nonchalantly, letting your hand go with a flourish of her hand, turning her back on you. “He said he’d come himself buuut, you know. The whole being wanted thing. Nice place you have here…”

“Who are you”, you asked incredulously as she walked around your bedroom as if it was her own, picking up pictures and objects curiously before placing them down and glancing over her shoulder at you once more.

“You can call me Sombra. So...you going to go pack? We don’t have all day.”

You had stood frozen as she galavanted around the room, before shaking your head as she directly spoke to you once more. This was not the time to freeze, it was finally time for you to unite with your mate and to never be separated from him again. You had packed a bag the night of his initial visit, a small one with a few outfits, your necessary toiletries and an encrypted photo album that held images from the decades you had spent together. You slid a few pieces of sentimental jewelry on before grabbing the bag from the closet and quickly snatching up the scarf. A low purr started in your chest, giving the scarf a gentle nuzzle and a quick sniff. Shiver rolling down your spine, you resisted the urge to close your eyes and lose yourself within his aura before your eyes found Sombra’s again. She looked like the cat that had caught the canary as she sauntered over, patting you on the shoulder sympathetically, you thought, before moving past you.

“Aw don’t look so shy”, she teased, the lilt of a barely contained chuckle in her voice. “It has been a while. Maybe you can help the big guy unwind.”

You could feel the flush climb up your cheeks and down into your chest but you refused to cow to this joker of a girl.

“That was the plan”, you hummed softly, following behind the younger woman as she began to walk out of the door, willing the burn of your cheeks to dissipate. “How do you intend to get us out of here unseen? If you hadn’t noticed, his escape has painted a very persistent target on my back.”

“Oh don’t worry about that”,Sombra dismissed, sliding down the banister and jumping off with a flourish of her fingers. This time they glowed, purple lines running from the tips of her nails up her arms and all the way to the weird contraption on her back. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Brow furrowing, you weren’t exactly sure you followed, but if Akande had entrusted your trip to this woman...then you would trust him.

“Alright”, you answered confidently, quickly making your way down the stairs and stopping behind her. Sombra held up her hand briefly making you stop short before pulling up a purple-tinted holoscreen. Her fingers danced across the screen, your eyes briefly catching sight of what had to be surveillance of your home from several different feeds before everything froze.

“There we go...okay, keep your head low and let’s go.”

Parked outside of your home was a hover vehicle with one of the gaudiest, obnoxiously loud logo for a supposed ‘DF Pizza Service’. The cartoon lion on the front was holding a ‘thumbs up’ with one paw and in the other it held a very gooey and cheesy looking pizza. You couldn’t help but balk, eyes slowly trailing over to Sombra who was climbing in the back of the van. She actually snorted when she saw your disgusted expression before sweeping an arm out and motioning for you to hurry up.

“Oh god you guys have the same expressions”, she snorted, her nose wrinkling up as genuine laughter bubbled from her lips. “Pobrecito...I promise it’s a short ride and then you’ll get to be in your big, strong Alpha’s arms.”

Her tone dripped with sarcasm before she completely moved back into the vehicle. Huffing softly, you reluctantly climbed into the back of the vehicle, praying that this trip was just as quick as Sombra had implied.

Your stomach rolled as Sombra helped you off of the holo-ship, whether from anxiousness or the turbulence the two of you had dealt with the entire ride, you did not know. After the delivery truck, the two of you moved between two different holo-ships before you were finally delivered to what you could only guess was their current home base. There was an unassuming small building directly in front of you, with a large piece of land attached but much too small to hold more than one or two people snugly. There obviously must be more but first you’d get your solid ground footing back.

“Welcome to Talon HQ”, Sombra said as both your feet finally touched solid ground, you actually squeezing both of her hands in appreciation.

She had loosened up during the ride, sharing a few pictures that had been taken over the last few months. Most of them were candid and goofy, meals being eaten together, awkward exercise angles and even a few face masks. She was a peculiar person but you did not know if you would deem her as a bad person.

“Thank you so much”, you said, taking one unsteady step then another, holding on tight to your bag. Your eyes searched the horizon for some kind of sign of Akande before looking at Sombra confused. You knew he wouldn’t miss a chance to greet you, absolutely knew it.

Tipping her head forward, she silently indicated that you should walk towards the building in front of you. Biting back a soft whimper of disappointment, you took several steps forward before it felt like you had walked through a bubble. Stumbling forward you keened as a scent that smelled of home suddenly slammed into you, strong arms wrapping about you to keep you from falling. Tears sprang to your eyes, your heart jumping into your throat as you tilted your head up and locked eyes with Akande, the soft smile on his lips making your heart soar.

“De”, you whined out, dropping the bag in your hand and throwing your arms around his neck. He lifted you up effortlessly, your arms squeezing even tighter around him, a hiccup of an overjoyed sob leaving your mouth. “Oko mi...I have missed you.”

He delicately crushed you to his body, tempering his strength but holding you as closely as humanly allowed. His scent poured over you as he nuzzled into your neck, ears barely hearing the soft words he murmured as he kissed the top of your head and temples and cheeks. Wrapping your legs around his waist you leaned back slightly in his arms, your hands coming up to cup his face to study it and recommit everything to memory. Those gorgeous high cheekbones and rugged jaw, those brown eyes that shone with absolute adoration for you, the lips that kept interrupting your focus by kissing you once then twice then thrice. You pressed your forehead to his, breathing in deeply to quell your tears.

“Ife mi”, he breathed as he placed both hands snuggly under your ass, pushing you up ever so slightly higher. Your eyes looked into his almost shyly, your heart fluttering like it had the first time you had kissed, the first time you had mated, like every time he looked at you. “I have missed you.”

The tears returned, calmer but just as meaningful, pressing one small kiss against his lips then another and another before you absolutely melted into him. Warmth burst in your chest, melting down your body and to your toes, pooling lazily in your core. You had missed the softness of his lips, missed the way he kissed you so tenderly as if he worshiped you with each one. Your thumbs rubbed slow circles against his jawline as you tried to pull him even closer, a harsh shiver rolling down your spine at the quiet growl that began to rumble in his throat. Oh gods how you had missed your Alpha. The hand under your ass began to gently massage at the flesh through your shorts, a muted whine caught in your chest as your legs tightened around him. His scent was intoxicating you, his hands and lips and torso making your body feel like it was slowly being pushed towards the sun.

Your lungs began to burn as they demanded air from you, pulling you reluctantly from the kiss, your eyes peering open as you breathed against his lips.

“Gods I have missed you”, you breathed out, pressing a quick brief kiss to his lips before you heard exaggerated gagging from behind you.

“Dios mio”, Sombra ‘gagged’ from behind, your head twisting to more or less pout at the other woman. Her hand was over her middle, making another exaggerated ‘puking’ potion, purple x’d out skeletons ‘falling from her mouth’. “Get a room!”

Rolling your eyes you couldn’t help the small chuckle that spilled from your lips at the ridiculous show, the soft scoff from Akande not going unnoticed by you. Turning back to him, his lips had tugged down in a slight scowl, inching up as you kissed his cheek.

“The suggestion is not a bad one De”, you murmured near his ear, pulling back with a shrug of your shoulder and a suggestive smile on your lips.

The scent of his incoming rut was near overpowering and while you wanted to talk with the man and learn of what he had been up to when you were apart, the need to lay with your mate was even stronger. He smiled at you, the expression smaller but just as meaningful as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before gently letting you down. You purred softly as you reached down and picked up your bag, Akande quickly taking the bag out of your hand and giving a soft admonishing sniff.

“What a gentleman”, Sombra teased with a half snort before beginning to take the lead, walking towards the set of buildings that you had completely missed.

The small, decrepit building had turned into a fairly large, stylish pre-fab of sorts; it looked more like a small apartment building versus any kind of ‘villainous compound’. The outside was a simple white, material you did not know; it stood three stories high, was fairly wide and windowless although you couldn’t tell how far back it stretched. You vaguely wondered if it was Vishkar-made, the sharp corners, clean coloring and material screamed their design. Squeaking softly, you chuckled as Akande tucked you into his side, his left arm wrapping around your waist to pull you close.

“Let’s go.”

You nodded happily, nuzzling into the side of his chest, practically chirping with excitement as he maneuvered you forward. He teasingly swayed with you as you walked, the man’s thumb rubbing small circles into your side, a quiet chuckle leaving your lips at the normalcy of it all the. Sombra led the way, walking backwards for a brief moment before scoffing about the ‘lovebirds’ and turning back around. As soon as the three of you made it to the compound, she held up a hand.

“Hold it”, she said, Akande stopping you from pushing forwards, eyes looking at the both of them in confusion.

Sombra pressed her hand to the wall next to the door frame, hand briefly glowing purple before a holo-screen appearing against the surface before an electronic voice requested biometrics.

“Welcome, please look or press hand  onto the holo-pad.”

“There we go”, she said with a small smile before motioning at you, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Gotta add you into the system so the lasers don’t melt you.”

“Lasers”, you questioned as you took a half step foward, Akande’s hand still on your back, and pressing your left hand into the pad.

You flinched as you felt a small prick against your finger, brow furrowing as you looked back at Akande incredulously, receiving a headshake that said he would explain it to you later. Sombra gave a soft snort as the holo-pad gave a soft affirmative beep before the door slid opened, the small hacker walking through the door and not waiting to see if the two of you would follow behind. Akande’s arm tightened around your hips once more, pushing you through the door and leading you into the compound as the door closed with a soft hiss. For ‘international terrorists’, it looks like they lived very cozily.

The entryway had an open design, the sleek white of the outside giving way to black and white swirled marble flooring, two sets of black floating staircases leading to a second floor and a completely open kitchen. Overall it was very ‘modern’ but it wasn’t without its creature comforts. As Akande led you further in you were able to see the recessed living room area filled to the brim with various pillows and handheld gaming systems and a small table in the center had a basket filled with snacks from all over the world. The kitchen’s stainless steel fridge was covered in various magnets and notes with one ‘reminder-chore’ holo-board affixed to the top. You also noticed three different coffee machines, a tea kettle and a tea press along the counter as well as more instant coffees packets/pouches than you think you had ever seen. It appeared that those were Sombra, the petite hacker making her way to them and riffling through until she found one that fit her taste, smiling contently before she went to grab the tea kettle.

Curiosity tickled at your brain, but your need for privacy with your Alpha was stronger, Akande smiling as your fingers lasted with his as he began to climb the staircase to the right and you followed close behind him. The second floor looked extremely unassuming; a plush black rug running along the entirety of the floor, the only hint that there were rooms being the recessed rectangular biometric locks or handles that stood out against the bright white wall. Turning right, Akande went to the room at the very end of the hall, placing his hand against the door and ushering you in before locking the door behind him. You shivered, immediately blanketed in the scent home, the scent of your mate, your knees shaking as you took several steps further into the room.

The room was deceptively much larger inside than you would have guessed from the outside, rivaling the size of your master bedroom back at home. You smiled at the color scheme of the entire room, the rich golds and cremes and tans accented with pops of crimson and jade and deep mahogany. A bookshelf filled with physical books stood in one corner of the room, a large mahogany wardrobe standing on the opposite side, no doubt full of outfits tailored specifically for the well dressed man. Walking further in, you smiled at the limestone flooring under your feet, no doubt from the same stonemason in Ogun that had laid the floors in your home outside of Numbani.

He even had pictures sprinkled around the room; pictures of his parents and his family, pictures of just you, pictures of your mating-wedding day, pictures of his championship win. His gauntlet sat in a clear case, important but obviously not as much as all of the other imagery he had portrayed in the room. Spinning around, you grinned widely at your husband and mate, the man returning the look as he opened his arms wide. You carefully toed off your sandals before running across the room and launching yourself into his arms, Akande effortlessly lifting you up as you buried your face into his shoulder and breathed his scent in.

Your head spun as you were assaulted by his scent once more, sweet spices and citrus and that beautiful floral amber scent twisting around you, making you moan low in your throat. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your hands gently traced up his spine as your lips dotted kisses against his deep umber skin, relishing in the subtle taste that was him. You had missed this, desperately so. Omegas weren’t meant to be separated from their Alphas so long, or at least that is what the romantic tragedies would have you think. They wrote of a gnawing emptiness that would ruin you spiritually, leaving you a husk of what you once were before destroying you physically. That or it could drive an omega literally insane and make an Alpha go feral. Of course those were nothing but old wives tales, old superstitions from a bygone time used to discourage breakups or separations. But with the way you clung to Akande, you had to wonder if there was a sliver of truth in the lie.

Your lips continued their journey, skipping over the tank her wore and kissing from where his neck and shoulder met, licking hungrily over his mating mark and smiling lustfully at the full body shudder that rushed through Akande. His hands tightened on your hips, fingers digging into your ass as he began to massage you gently through your clothes, a low rumble of desire starting in his chest. You chuckled breathily as you pulled away from his neck, littering kisses up his neck to his jaw until you could press your forehead against his. His ochre eyes bore into your own, hunger, desire and unbridled need burning a hole into you and sending fire straight into your core.

Akande growled possessively as he pressed a searing kiss against you lips, a low moan catching in your throat before you responded, your hands cupping the back of his head and pushing him closer. Your back arched as he nibbled lightly at your bottom lip, lightning passing from where you lips touched through your nipples and straight into your slick drenched cunt. His tongue gently lapped at your bottom lip asking for entrance, your lips parting instantly to grant him passage. You whined as your tongues mingled, the taste of his morning coffee still lingering on his tongue, clinging to him as he began to walk you towards the bed. Clawing at the back of his neck your toes curled as he explored every inch of your mouth with his own, stopping only when he dropped you unceremoniously onto the bed. Squeaking softly, you bounced off of the bed, Akande still standing and locking you in place with a smoldering stare. You felt so vulnerable and needy at the same time, your hands teasingly tracing up your body and squeezing gently at your breasts to further tempt the man into taking you.

“Please Alpha…I need you…”

Akande sharply inhaled as he pulled the shirt he was wearing up and over his head quickly, tossing it to the side and climbing onto the bed. The bed dipped as Akande trapped you between his knees, the man straddling you as his hands dove under the high cut tunic top you wore, pushing the fabric up and over your head. He wanted, no, needed to see you. His hands returned to your waist, his eyes locked on the rising and falling of your chest behind the thin material of your cup-less bra, your eyes turning up to gaze up at him docilely. His breathing hitched for a brief second before you turned your head to the left and tilted your head upwards exposing your neck to him once more, a silent plea for your Alpha to take you as his once more.  Akande would not wait for another invitation.

His hands smoothed up your sides and over your breasts, crying out as he rolled both your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Your hips rolled, arching off of the bed and towards him, whimpering needily as your hands shakily tried to reach back to unhook your bra. The fighter chuckled huskily his hands dragging away from your breasts briefly and yanking the material apart like it was tissue paper. Akande’s hands removed the torn fabric, cupping both breasts tenderly and dipping his head down, his tongue circling around your nipple and suckling hungrily. Stars danced in your eyes, a whimpering cry escaping from your throat as you grabbed the back of his head and pressed him closer. He dragged himself away from your nipple and to the swell of your breast, pressing hard kisses and nips to your heated skin, nipping at your collarbone and kissing his way up to your mark. Your nails dug deep into his shoulders as his lips crashed against your mark, a broken sob tumbling from your lips as his teeth grazed the spot that tied you to one another.

“Please…”

You cried out as Akande pulled away, tears springing to your eyes as you looked to him in confusion, the ferocity his rut making his eyes practically glow, only tempered by the man’s need for control.

“Not yet beloved”, he sighed softly against your lips, shaking his head and pulling back once more.

Akande, even when your heats or his ruts came to pass, was never one to succumb completely to his baser instincts. Whether the man’s decades of training or his own dedication and patience you did not know but he would do thing his way while satisfying the need that ached inside of both of you. Pulling away from you, Akande sat back on his knees and began to completely disrobe you, easily lifting your body up to pull the bra off and sliding your shorts and underwear off in one smooth movement. Quickly he pulled his own loose shorts and and boxer briefs off, tossing them to the side as he loomed over you. Your mouth watered hungrily as you stared as his twitching cock, the head ruddy and dark, glistening with pre-cum that you just wanted to taste. There would be plenty of time for that later.

You whined as he pulled away from you, your heart thundering in your chest as you suddenly felt abandoned again without your Alpha’s touch. A desperate whine began in your throat, hushed quickly when his nails gently scratched at your outer thighs. Your toes curled slightly, back arching as you pressed into his touch and spread your legs slightly, hoping to lull him in with the pure scent of you. His husky chuckle sent waves of pleasure through your body, your heavy lidded eyes staring hungrily, biting your bottom lip hard as your husband, your Alpha moved closer. Yes, this is all you had wanted, had dream--

“O-Oh…”

The gasp that tumbled from your throat was barely audible as Akande didn’t move his body between your legs but instead laid his full body down, his face hovering directly over your dripping mound. Akande gave you a smirk that you knew only a jackal could match before diving in, your back arching off of the bed. Your mate was relentless, his arms wrapping tight around your thighs; both to keep you from moving and to stop you from snapping your legs closed. A sob was wrested from your throat as his tongue licked the soaked lips of your sex, honey-sweet slick quickly dripping to replace it. He drank from you like a man who had found an oasis in the desert, your body quivering as each lap of his tongue and suck from his lips would tear you apart. He was so warm, the silken heat of his tongue making your stomach twist up tighter and tighter, frenzied and needy whines leaving your throat as your hands came to rest on Akande’s head.

You could practically feel him grin against your sex, relinquishing your thighs, one arm wrapping around your hips to lock you in place while the other hand pressed right below your belly button to stop you from grinding against his face. He was merciful, his hand massaging your mons as he suckled at your clit, sending you over the edge as you pushed him even closer to you. He released your clit quickly before he began to drink hungrily from you, making a show of it as finally pulled back. His lips were covered in your essence as were his chin, Akande licking his lips slowly before wiping your juices from his chin and sucking it from his fingers. He was still not done with you however, sitting fully up and on his knees.

Akande’s hands were searing hot as they grabbed your hips and lifted them off of the bed until they were lined with his shaft, your hands balling into the sheets as anticipation churned in your belly. Bending over your body, he held you with his forearm, his hand dipping between both of your bodies so he could line himself up with your entrance, your toes curling and calves tensing as the head of his cock rubbed up and down before slipping in. Sharply sucking air in, gracious tears burning in your eyes and blurring your vision as he slipped inside of you bit by bit, bottoming out with low grunt. Euphoric nirvana made your vision bleary, legs wrapping needily around Akande’s waist to pull him close as he began to thrust into you, arms lifting to beg him to lean down. You were so full of him, his scent potent and desirous, your mind driven to frenzied longing by how he had set all of your senses aflame.  You needed him closer, needed to feel more of him, taste more of him, love more of him.

Akande obliged you, carefully leaning over so he didn’t slip out, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and moaning as he locked lips with you. Akande caught your cries against his lips as his hips pulled back and slammed back into you, his pace tempered but each thrust as ferocious as the last. Your nails dug into his back, lungs burning and stars dancing in your eyes as you finally broke the kiss, the slight taste of you mixed with him lingering on your tongue, turning your head away and gulping air into your lungs. Akande’s breath tickled the shell of your ear, the man’s head dropping next to your shoulder as his pace picked up, all of your nerves throbbing in tune with your quickening pulse.

“Ìfẹ́ mi…how I have missed you.”

His voice growled deep into your ears, a broken sob tumbling from your lips, your slick drenched walls tightening around him. He kissed your temple, the huskiness of his voice making your entire body tense and fall over the precipice of a small orgasm, twitching and crying out for him as your walls squeezed around him. A low rumble of desire started in his chest as he slowed for a brief second, pulling his hips back for a pregnant moment before slamming in, pulling a lustful scream of his name from your lips. You could feel him smile against your temple as his hips continued to pound into yours, kissing several times before his husky voice began to speak again.

“I have dreamed of hearing your voice everyday”,he purred low into your ears, your entire body shivering at the full body manipulation he was assaulting you with. “I’ve thought of nothing but your body beneath mine since we reunited. I have missed you my omega.”

“Akande”, you sobbed, your voice thick with emotion as tears rolled down your cheeks, a low and needy keen for the man humming in your chest.

The man nuzzled against your cheek until you turned your head and captured your lips again, his thrusts growing slower but grinding even deeper inside of you. Adoration and passion and re-attachment and bonding made your body tingle, the two of you breaking away briefly to pull in a breath before hungrily diving back in. Neither of you dared to close your eyes, immeasurable emotions being communicated through look alone, the pains of years long separations mending bit by bit. Despite popular belief and slander, Akande had always been a man that had been open and free with his emotions, tender-hearted, loving and caring.

His ochre eyes communicated a desperation and happiness that he could never put into words, fear and peace fighting in equal measure. Even without his words, you knew what he was feeling and how even in this most joyous occasion he was hurting because your heart ached identically. The two of you had been torn from one another unceremoniously; his attack on the museum had been planned but it going so awry  without backup was not, a betrayal that hadn’t been forgotten.

Even after his trial and his incarceration, they were not allowed the basic right to visitations that mated pairs were supposed to had, the man treated more harshly due to his acts against Overwatch agents. The world’s sweethearts’ had pulled the cruelest of cards, keeping two living mated partners apart, denying all conjugal visitation or face to face communications. The physiological and psychological needs of mates was something that had been studied time and time again and the mental havoc it wrought on those that  were denied one another ranged from mildly inconveniencing to completely debilitating. The both of you had prevailed fortunately and this is where the healing could get started.

Your hands dragged up from his back, cupping his face tenderly and rubbing at apples of his cheeks slowly, peppering dozens of smaller kisses against his lips. Akande’s eyes implored your own, gently bumping your forehead with his and pulling away to take a pant but never looking away.

“No one will take you from me again”, your breathed out, breath nary above a whisper before placing another peck against his lips. “Never again, Ọlọ́kàn mi. I swear it, Alpha. I will burn the world down to get to you…”

Akande’s eyes widened before they softened and calmed, the pure adoration making your body shiver harder as your heart raced. His hips picked up pace but he did not lift himself from you, him needing to feel you as much as you needed to feel him, his forearms bracing himself  right above your curls. His lips crashed into yours, the desperation replaced by loving gratitude, your hands returning to around his neck as his hips began to crash into yours. He quickly devoured every desirous sound that left your lips, his own low, breathy moans mixing with yours. Pointing your toes, you locked your legs around his waist even tighter, whining as you pulled him deeper inside of you. You were drowning in him, so close to plunging  into all that he had to give you, your body shuddering as you tightened around him. The man responded with a low grunt against your ear, your fingers splayed, feeling the muscles in his back begin to tense, his brow furrowing against your own as he drew in shaky breaths. Dragging your nails up his back you rested your fingers gently on the back of his neck as you turned your head and presented your mark to him your tongue darting out to barely reach his.

“Mo nifẹ ẹ”,you breathed out as your fingers curled gently on the back of his neck, inhaling sharply as you felt his lips graze your mark. His thrusts grew even more disjointed but stronger as he lost himself in you, you both absolutely intoxicated with the scent of the other, your love drunk words tumbling from your lips like a prayer. “Mo nifẹ ẹ, mo nifẹ ẹ, mo nifẹ ẹ. I love you Akande…ngh!”

The two of you fell apart in each others arms all at once, Akande biting into your mark as tenderly as he could when your walls contracted around him. Your arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, grounding yourself in his touch as the molten heat of his seed coated your walls, the man’s shoulders and traps tight as he tried not to drop all his weight on you, his hips still grinding against your oversensitive mound. Your entangled scents had completely filled the room; sunflowers and irises like the garden back home, sweet allspice and coconut and citrus wrapped with heady scents of amber and myrrh. Your head was swimming as he finally relinquished your shoulder, tongue gently lapping at the lazily bleeding wound as his knot began to swell inside of you, the man’s full lips kissing the side of your neck and your cheek briefly.

“Hold on”, he breathed against cheek, your body shivering as you gave a brief nod, legs and arms wrapping tighter around him as Akande grunted and flipped over. His knot didn’t budge as you cuddled into his chest, one of Akande’s hands resting on your lower back while the other gently moved to your hair, lightly pulling at the curls that had been flattened during all of the fun. “I love you, awẹ́lẹ́wà mi.”

You nuzzled closer into his chest, your energy absolutely spent but your soul feeling whole for the first time in years. The gods had brought you back to the love of your life, to your one in a billion connection and for that you would be eternally grateful, your mind absolutely positive Akande felt the same. His hands massaged slow circles up and down your spine as he continued to gently and carefully detangle your hair, your face nuzzling closer as sincere peace and love blanketed the both of you. You knew you would never let him go again, knowing he was meant to be in your arms and he in yours.

[thatsadorbsyo]

Lucas - The Engineer

It was a man named Tyrus who got me into the Academy. He’d always seemed like an impossible statue of a man to me; impeccable posture, long blonde hair that he kept in a tight ponytail at the base of his skull, and a blind third eye set close within a detestable little divot in his forehead. His mouth was always an unamused gash across the lower half of his face, but against all odds, he found some reason to give me attention that bordered on positive. The gods only know why.

Maybe it was the fact that his daughter liked me. Julia and I were friends for almost fifteen years before we got engaged, but Leviticus was long gone by then. Whatever. No matter.

Mater was always bringing people like him around. A clownish procession of stiff shirts with big, loud boots and long noses, all of whom wanted to have hushed conferences in the sitting room about my and Augustin’s futures, conversing with everyone in the house except the two us. What were we supposed to do? We sat at a table in the corner, kicked our feet, tried not to look like we were booting each other’s shins under the tablecloth. Dummy shit. We were just kids.

Sometimes they gave us tests. We were ten and twelve turns old and being drilled on Euclidean geometry, Ilsabardian history, firearm etiquette. You name it, somebody eventually came around to gauge our aptitude on it, and my mother would parade us about in front of these chucklefucks like we were the keys to some as-of-yet unfound door instead of her children. I was luckier than Augustin; I had a head for numbers and could rattle off the conductive properties of sixteen types of ore, so I went to the Academy. He went to the training corps.

Leviticus lux Tyrus was the man who eventually sat me down in the parlor of our house to inform me that the council of self-important adults had decided my fate. His frame was too large for our chairs, so we sat on the sofa, a nightmare in lilac velveteen that pater wouldn’t let us use unless company was present. There was a burn mark under one of the throw pillows, so I sat on that side, and Leviticus settled into the far edge with the creak of stressed wood and the wheeze of compressing upholstery.

He stared at me for a long moment before deigning to speak to me, I remember this much. His gaze made my stomach curdle, but I was too much of a bullheaded little shit to break eye contact. Maybe that impressed him, I don’t know. Even back then, his blue eyes had started to dull in color to match the indifferent sheen of his soul, and to this day I don’t know how the ejaculate of that man could have ended up creating someone like Julia, but it might be the one kind thing he’s ever done for this world. That, and saving me from the meat grinder. Forgive me if I don’t thank him; it’s a complicated thing.

His military obligations to the imperial machine pulled him away from the Academy only two years into my studies, so while he was maybe the most foundational asshole to my education, he was never my greatest inspiration nor my most substantial mentor. Maybe this is lucky; his cruelty found more artistic expression in munitions design than it ever did teaching snot-nosed children how to build transistors, anyhow. Over time, my field of focus drifted elsewhere, but that was how he let me whet my teeth: robotics.

You like gadgets, girl? he’d asked me, leaning forward with both hands clasped in his lap. Despite how clean-cut of a man he was, his knuckles had been bruised and split, scabbed over. This was not a man who worked in theory; he was an engineer, an active one. Experimental. A visionary, not quite on the level of Garlond, but perhaps all the more dangerous for his lesser stature and subsequent lack of oversight. Reckless.

Today, my hands bear the same signature. I keep myself in good hygiene, but no amount of scrubbing will fix the chronic mess of my fists. I don’t hate it; it reminds me that it’s not enough to live a life of the mind, that I eventually have to put my thoughts to task and create something. The brain and the hands are a functioning organism. If you neglect one or the other, you end up with either derivative, uninspired drivel or nothing to fucking show for yourself. It’s a meditation under which I find purpose; one of the few.

We don’t always get to choose our most critical influences. Tyrus taught me that, too.

[thatscalledtoughlove]

Things Left Unsaid

Pairing(s): Gaius Augustine x MC; Jax Matsuo x MC (Danielle Lee)

Summary: Gaius and Danielle reunite briefly fifty years after defeating Rheya to address the unspoken connection they share.

Author’s Note: No idea where the inspiration for this came from, but I was listening to Overjoyed by Bastille so I guess it was a bit of an inspiration. Thank you to anyone who reads this, I appreciate it!

Word Count: 2k

—————

A voice had been calling out to her for so long, she couldn’t remember quite when it had started.

Help.

It was always the same. Pleas for help. Anger, grief, confusion. Hundreds of emotions scattered throughout the decades, each one belonging to the one person she should never feel any pity for.

“Danielle?” Jax’s voice drew her from her thoughts, and she glanced up, trying her best to summon a smile.

“Mm?”

He frowned, studying her face a moment. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, looking down at the wedding ring on her finger. “Nothing. I’m just…distracted.”

Another life. If we’d met in another life…I think things could have been different.

Danielle sighed. For fifty years, she’d tried her best to put the past behind her. Whatever discussion they’d had on that boat, it no longer mattered. She loved Jax. She was married to Jax. She chose Jax.

But a part of her would always reserve a part of herself for Gaius Augustine.

It was something she couldn’t quite explain. Not quite a romantic attraction, though it was definitely there. More like regret that he’d never had a true friend. Before he left after they’d defeated Rheya, she’d wanted to comfort him. To let him know that she would be there, should he ever need help.

And yet, she had let him leave without that assurance.

Rumors of a mysterious man traveling across Europe helping people was the only way she knew he was still alive. Despite the number of enemies he had, Gaius had survived. She used that thought as cold comfort.

“Adrian asked me to meet with him. He has some plans that he wants to discuss. You okay to stay here?” Jax placed a hand on her lower back, leaning down to kiss her.

Danielle smiled and returned the kiss, nodding as he pulled back. “I’ll be fine. I think I might take a walk later. It’s been a while since I’ve done that.”

Something told her tonight required a walk to Central Park. Every instinct screamed at her to do it.

“I’ll see you in a bit, okay?” Jax looked at her with such a gentle expression, the guilt about who had been on her mind increased. “Stay safe on your walk.”

She laughed. They hadn’t had to worry about any threats for a long time, but she still appreciated the concern. “Will do.”

Once Jax left, Danielle sat in silence for twenty minutes. That voice inside kept calling out to her, luring her to the park. She knew that it would be impossible to ignore it.

With a sigh, she stood from the kitchen table and went upstairs to change. The house was silent. Traffic raged on outside, but all she could think about was the voice that seemed to call out to her. It had been there for half a century. Always present, ever changing.

A neighbor greeted her when Danielle stepped out onto the street. “Evening! How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been okay.” She smiled, praying this wouldn’t lead to a conversation. “How about you?”

“Mm, okay.” The woman seemed to catch on that now was not a time for talking. “Well, I’ve got to take care of the kids. Have a good night, Danielle.”

Danielle smiled and waved as she passed by. “See ya, Juliet.”

After fifteen minutes of walking, she finally reached Central Park. Most people weren’t outside anymore. It was a particularly cold night, and when she looked up at the sky, it looked like it might rain.

Sighing, Danielle took a seat on a bench and crossed her arms over her chest. She stared up at the sky, watching as more clouds began to roll in.

Why was she here?

“This is nuts,” she mumbled to herself, laughing as she shook her head. “You’ve lost it, Danielle. Truly lost it.”

Footsteps echoed in the quiet night just as she was about to stand, and she whirled around.

The person who stood before her was someone she had not expected to ever see again.

“What are you doing here?” The threat Jax had made rang in her ears. “If Jax finds out that you’re here, he’ll—”

“Now, now, is that any way to greet an old friend?” Gaius smiled, and Danielle felt butterflies flutter in her stomach despite herself.

She shook her head, crossing her arms again. “I’m serious, Gaius. What the hell are you doing?”

“There are things that I have to say to you. I have spent the past fifty years feeling as though we left things unfinished. Danielle, not a day has passed where I haven’t regretted the way we left things.”

This was insane. She had to be dreaming. Because there was no way in hell that any of this could be real.

Danielle risked taking a step closer, raising her head to look him in the eyes. “What is there left to say? I’ve moved on. That night on the boat—our discussion—it’s best not to dwell on the past.” She wished her heart would stop betraying her by feeling conflicted.

She should hate this man. It might be true that he was trying to do good, but it didn’t change the fact that he had murdered her. He had murdered hundreds, probably thousands of people. And if Jax ever found out that she harbored some feelings for him, after he’d had to watch her die by this man’s hand…after he’d had to watch Takeshi die by Gaius’ hand…Her husband would never forgive her.

“Do not lie to me and say that you don’t feel it too.” Gaius stepped closer, reaching out a hand to touch her. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, you have captivated me, Danielle Lee.”

“Stop it.” She prepared to smack his hand away, but stopped when she locked eyes with him. “What is wrong with you?”

His lips twitched, and his gaze flickered to her lips. “Many things are wrong with me.” Gaius rolled his eyes when Danielle scoffed. “I promise that I will leave you alone after this. Don’t worry, I’m not foolish enough to believe you would actually return my affections.”

For a moment, she considered admitting the truth to him. Whatever this was, no matter how messed up it was, it was not one-sided.

“I married Jax.” She felt the need to say it before things escalated any further. “I love Jax.”

“And yet you came here tonight.” The amusement had faded from his eyes, replaced by sad resignation.

Danielle shook her head, trying her best to convince herself that everything about this was wrong. She should have never come here. “How was I supposed to know you’d be here? It’s not like I came here to see you!”

Gaius sighed, tucking some hair behind her ear. “You and I share some connection. I have no idea how, but I can always sense you. I think it happened when you freed me from Rheya’s control.”

“That’s insane. This is insane.” She let out an incredulous laugh, finally taking a step back. “That doesn’t make any sense!”

“You are the Bloodkeeper. A descendant of The First. I believe you are more powerful than you think.” She didn’t like the way he watched her. The longing reflected in his eyes made her frustration grow. “I was hoping you would come here tonight, and it worked.”

Danielle wasn’t sure whether she should slap him or walk away. “Well, I’m here. So say what it is you want to say and then leave.”

Gaius took another step closer, his attention landing on the ring on her finger. “I meant it when I said that I think things could have been different if we’d met in another life. You’re one of the only people who has shown me kindness, even we I don’t deserve it.”

“That doesn’t—”

“You told me to say what I came here to say, so do not interrupt me.” For the first time since he’d first arrived, he glared at her. “I’ve been alive for a very long time, Danielle. You cannot fool me. I know I have crossed your mind too.”

She sighed, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. “Okay, fine. Maybe I have thought about you. It doesn’t change the fact that this, whatever it is, is wrong.”

“Believe me, I’m aware.”

If only she had just gone to bed that night on the boat. All of this would have never been a problem if she had just stuck to her promise and ended his life in the tomb fifty years ago. With Gaius gone, she wouldn’t have to walk around with this guilt weighing on her shoulders whenever Jax told her he loved her. She could go about her life not having to worry about the question of what if.

“I’m sorry, Gaius.” And she meant it. She wished they had met under different circumstances. She wished that life wasn’t so cruel, and that her heart didn’t feel so conflicted.

But they would never be.

“Don’t apologize.” He smiled at her, though she could see the pain behind the façade. “Perhaps we can still be friends.”

Danielle shook her head. “You and I both know that can’t happen.”

“Ah, I guess you do have a point, my flower.”

To her surprise, tears formed in her eyes. Danielle turned away, hating herself for feeling the way she did about this man.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and Danielle pulled it out, taking a shaky breath when she saw Jax’s name light up the screen.

Jax: Should be done sooner than I thought. Meet back at home in an hour?

“I have to go.” Her voice trembled when she spoke, the bottled-up emotions threatening to spill over. “Jax will wonder where I went.”

Gaius forced another smile and nodded. “I understand.”

When he stepped closer, Danielle couldn’t help herself. She threw her arms around his neck, desperately pulling his lips to hers. Gaius seemed surprised at first, not moving.

Great. She was an idiot. This was—Oh. He began to return the kiss, a quiet moan slipping past her lips when he tugged her closer.

This was terrible. She was a horrible wife and person.

“Danielle—” He tried to pull away, but she held him against her, tasting the saltiness of her tears as she kissed him like this was the last time.

Because it was.

“Gaius.” She said his name in a breathy tone, running his fingers through his hair as rain started to fall. “I’m sorry.”

Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

The word echoed in the quiet night, and for a moment, they were the only two in the world.

Rain started to fall harder, and Danielle just pulled Gaius closer. She knew she would regret this moment for a long time, but she no longer cared. At least once in her life, she needed to know what it was like to kiss this person.

Several more texts bombarded her phone. She took that as her sign to leave before the situation became worse.

“Danielle, I—”

“Shh.” She placed a finger over his lips, silently begging him to stop. “Some things are better left unsaid. I have to go.”

Gaius’ shoulders fell, and he nodded, cupping her face in his hands. “Perhaps someday we will meet again.”

“Perhaps.” She tried to smile, but found herself unable to. “Goodbye, Gaius Augustine.” Danielle turned to go, but her steps faltered, and she turned back to him.

A genuine smile danced across his lips when she walked back to him and stood on her toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“In another life,” she whispered in his ear, “Things would have been different.”

As Danielle walked away from a life that would never be, she found herself smiling. The knowledge that they weren’t meant for each other in this life hurt, but she liked to believe that somewhere, in another place, they both had what they wanted.

And perhaps that small thought was enough.

[dorkylittleweirdo]

Just One Night (part 8)

Ya boi finally stopped feeling like shit being a piece of shit and Wrote. Sorry for making y’all wait so long, I had literally zero motivation for a hot minute, but like,, here’s this. Hope this is okay ^-^

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7

Gaius x MC, don’t like, don’t read

You were levitating, power surging through your veins. Your blood felt like it was boiling, evaporating and being replaced with pure power. Something was off, but you couldn’t quite place the feeling. Memories of your beloved friend crumbling to dust in your arms flashed in your mind, just as painful as the day it happened. Glancing down, you saw Gaius holding your legs, staring up at you with that same terrified, helpless look. Your brow furrowed.

Hadn’t this already happened? Hadn’t you been through this before? You tried opening your mouth to speak, but to your dismay, you were unable to move, to control your own body. You were like a prisoner in your own mind, only able to watch the scene unfold before you. This was completely out of your control. You saw Gaius move his mouth, but you couldn’t hear a thing he was saying. Not that you needed to, you knew exactly what he was saying, and all you wanted to do was take his hand and let him hold you for a moment.

You watched helplessly as you flicked your wrist, vanishing Gaius into nothing but scattered ashes. Your heart stopped. What were you doing? It didn’t stop there. You waved a hand over your friends, who were desperately trying to stop you, wiping them out instantly. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Why was this happening? Why weren’t you doing anything?

You watched, paralyzed with horror as you slaughtered every person in the opera house. There was so much blood, the coppery smell flooding your nose, so overpowering you could almost taste it. You couldn’t bear to watch this any longer, and you shut your eyes as tight as you could, hoping to vanish from existence.

You awoke with a start, your eyes snapping open, your breathing labored. You shot up, taking a mental note that you were in bed as your eyes darted around the room. The room you had been staying in for the past few months. With Gaius. Gaius! You felt a hand place itself on your back, whipping your head to see the man you loved dearly looking at you with sleepy eyes. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you gazed at him. He was okay.

“What’s wrong?” Gaius murmured, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

It took everything you had in you to not fling yourself against him and give him a tight hug. You shook your head. “Nothing, I’m fine,” you answered, your quavering voice betraying you as it cracked. “Sorry for waking you…”

Gaius rolled his eyes. “If you can look me in the eyes and tell me that, I’ll believe you.” He frowned slightly when you made no attempt to meet his gaze. “What was that nightmare even about?”

“I don’t even know if you can call it that,” you whispered shakily, your eyes unfocused. “It was like a memory. But it was.. wrong.” You let out a sob, your mind in torment over the horrors you were able to conjure up. “It was after we killed Rheya, when you talked me back down. But I- I killed you… I killed everyone. And I couldn’t- I couldn’t stop it…” You buried your fingers in your hair. “It felt so real…”

“It was only a dream,” he assured you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’m still here, and I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“Good,” you answered, sniffling back the last of your tears. You finally lifted your head to face him, vigorously rubbing the moisture from your cheeks. You offered him a small smile, and crawled towards him, unable to resist the temptation any longer as you pressed your body against his, your head on his chest.

Gaius looped his arms loosely around you, frowning when he could feel you trembling against him. He wordlessly pulled you into his lap, burying his face into your hair. No words were spoken between the two of you, none needed to be. He simply held you in his arms, cradling you against his chest as he waited for you to calm down.

“Gaius..?” You called softly after a while, earning a hum in response. You leaned away from him, gazing gratefully into his eyes. “Thank you.”

He hummed again, quirking a brow when you squirmed out of his grasp. He watched as you stood from the bed, briefly stretching your arms over your head before walking towards the door. “Where are you going?” Gaius asked, stifling a yawn.

“Kitchen,” you replied, not looking back at him. “I need water.” You walked out of the room, heading to the kitchen and quickly grabbing a glass to fill with water. You frowned. Your hands still shook slightly as the remnants of your dream circled through your mind. You filled your glass, then took a small sip, leaning heavily against the countertop. You let out a small sigh, feeling suffocated in the kitchen. Abandoning your water on the counter, you walked towards the front door, opening it and stepping outside.

The cool air hit your skin, and you closed the door behind you before making your way over to lean against the rail of the porch. You gazed up at the sky, lost in thought until you heard the door open and close again. You didn’t turn your head. You knew who it was.

“You left this in the kitchen,” Gaius spoke, setting the glass on the rail next to you. He leaned his back against the railing, resting his elbows on it as he looked down at you.

You offered him a gracious smile, picking up your glass and downing a few gulps before setting it back down. “You didn’t have to come out here with me,” you said after a moment. “You could’ve gone back to sleep. I can handle this on my own.” You gave him a lopsided smile before turning your gaze back to the sky.

Gaius shrugged in response. He’d never tell you, but this was his way of showing you that he cared. He studied your expression for a beat, then bent down, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. He smiled at you when you looked over at him, which you returned, though he knew it was slightly forced.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. Regardless of the fact that you would prefer to deal with everything on your own, you couldn’t deny that having Gaius around helped. You shut your eyes, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder.

Gaius gently lifted you into his arms, your arms immediately looping around his neck while your legs wrapped around his waist. He carried you back inside and into your shared bedroom, setting you down onto the bed before laying beside you. He pulled you against him, resting his chin on top of your head. He wasn’t good at comforting people, he never had been. But he could do this.

You tangled your legs with his, taking in his scent as you reached your arms around him, your hands clinging to the back of his shirt. You buried your face into his chest, feeling his hand move up to stroke your hair. You felt more at ease than you had earlier, but your body was still tense. You struggled to fight against the sleep that threatened to take hold of your consciousness.

Gaius took notice of your silent battle, as well as how rigid your body was. "Try to get some more sleep, my flower," he murmured softly, his eyes slipping closed. "You're safe. I'll never let anything bad happen to you."

You smiled, nodding into his chest. You allowed yourself to relax against Gaius, confident that he wouldn't leave your side until you awoke. Part of you wondered if you would have nightmares like this for the rest of your life. For forever. Eternity.

You forced the thought from your mind, instead focusing on the steady breathing of the man pressed against you. You couldn't fathom the amount of time eternity must be. The sea of heartbreak it must bring with it. But with this man by your side? Maybe you wouldn't mind eternity at all. You finally drifted off to sleep, safe and sound in Gaius's warm embrace.

Tag list (let me know if you wanna be added or removed):

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[yourlatitude]

indemnify. (i)

Gaius got his second chance from his savior, yet he finds it hard to find justification on her behalf. While Gaius searching for his meaning, someone else is looking for him for another reason.

(18+ Trigger Warning. Explicit. Smut. Heavy one.)

The story is set long after the last war with Rheya and Gaius is confused with his purpose. This is based on my weirdest dream ever. Bloodbound is the perfect story for my dream. In this story, My MC (Adora Ramsey, now Raines) married Adrian and I spare Gaius to have his second chance. This is a two part story. Enjoy!

(Bloodbound: Gaius Augustine x Lily-Rose Raines (OC)) 

PART I. PART II.

i.

London is wet and gloomy. Perfect place for him. 100 years living in England, he feels like finally, he found his perfect lair. After being spared to live, Gaius roamed around the world. Trying to find his reason to live, trying to find justifications why the Goddess decided to spare his life. 

His Goddess.

His steps stopped in front of the Museum building he's been working for. For the last 50 years, he's been telling the story behind all paintings regarding vampires. It's been almost 300 years since his Goddess saved the world from his previous Goddess, fuck that's probably confusing right? But Gaius can't help it. Rheya was his Goddess once. Adora is the Goddess now and Gaius needs someone, fuck, even something to worship. If he isn't a worshipper, he is nothing. When Adora spared his life, she took half of his soul with her.

He decided to go to work earlier today. It's been raining so fucking hard in London since morning and the sun is nowhere to be found. That allows him to go out and blending out with humans. He finds it amusing that after 100 years, humans found vampires no longer interesting. After his Goddess decided to breach the wall between humans and vampires, they live together side-by-side just fine. Silly of him back then, thinking that vampires could rule humans like a little toy when the reality is, humans always evolving. And creatures like him always stuck in one reality, between life and death. But Gaius stopped complaining, if his Goddess decided that this is the kind of life that she thought the best for her kind, then it is the best.

"You are early,"

"No sun outside and I'm bored," he said as he smiles. His coworker just nods and usher him to get inside. Gaius proceeding to walk to his office before he stops in front of a painting he knows too well. 

50 years. 

50 years he's been looking at her face and his heart yearns for a glimpse of her more and more each day. Dark brown hair, almost black in some of its layer, brown eyes too deep, piercing to his soul every single time he stares at them. This painting serves no justice of her beauty, but this is the closest he could be with her.

"You know, her hair is actually not that wavy in real life,"

A soft voice startled him a little bit. Very unusual of him. But again, he got here too early and the museum still packed with humans. Too many voices to concentrate while his eyes are too focused on the painting.

"Yes, it's not. It's actually darker too in real life," he nods and turns around.

His heart stops.

She stands across the room, yet he can hear him perfectly well. Vampire? In the middle of the day? Maybe she finds rain as freedom too like him.

Long golden brown hair framing her face down until it reaches just below her chest. Gaius couldn't see her face clearly as his vision to her got blocked by people walking around repeatedly.

Yet those eyes. She is a vampire.

Pair of deep reddish eyes, staring into his soul. Much more to his dislikes. 

Why her eyes are red? Did she just have her feast? Is she planned to feast here? That would be foolish of her.

He stares and just stares. Can’t bring himself to get a closer look or run to her like how his heart yearns for her, somehow. Why? The voices inside this museum suddenly gone, nothing to his ears as all he can hear is her breathing and the sound of his own heart.

Since when his heart beating this fast? He is a goddamn vampire. Ancient one. His heart isn’t supposed to pumping his blood this loudly.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

Who are you?

That girl walks closer to him. The closer she gets, the stronger her scent filling his nose. The louder her heart sounds. The redder her eyes became. Vampire? Definitely. But she radiates warmth like a human. She smells like a human.

Red eyes. Blood red eyes.

Not until she stops two feet away from him then he realized.

"Adora."

His lips accidentally slipped that name.

“Adora? You know my mom?”

She looks so much like Adora. Unconsciously, he stretches out his hand at her, “Let me feel you.”

That girl looking at him in confusion, yet Gaius still takes his chance. She’s too much like Adora. He needs to make sure.

“Please,” He whispers, chocking his own breath.

Last time he checked, 100 years ago, Adora is still in New York with Adrian, settled down. Happy. Healthy. Why she’s here now in London? Alone? Is God, whichever that is, finally hearing his yearns? Is it his chance already, finally, to have her?

“Who are you?”

That girl takes a step closer him before placing her hand on his.

A rush of warmth and shock almost make Gaius dropped to his knees.

How? How is it possible?

The girl looking at him in more confusion.

How can he not recognize it? Two faces blended into one. Two faces that destroyed and building his soul, again and again, every time Gaius thinks of them. His sins.  

“What’s your name, child?” his words came as a yearning whisper.

She stares at the painting once before he stares at him, “Lily-Rose. Lily-Rose Raines. And you are?”

“Gaius. Gaius Augustine.”

ii.

The second time they meet is in the museum again. But now, he caught her staring at Adora's painting instead of him staring at Adora's painting. 

"You killed her once," she said.

Gaius stops right behind her, framing her smaller figure between his reality and his fantasy, "I did."

“Why?"

"I just did."

She turns around. 

Red blood eyes. Why her eyes are always red? Is she always angry? What makes her always angry?

"Why?" She asked him again.

Gaius sighs and tears his eyes away from hers, "She stood in front of my purpose back then."

"How about now?"

"She is my purpose."

Lily-Rose just nods and they decided to just stay in the silent.

iii.

The third time is in Gaius' office. It was late in the rainy night. 2 weeks after their second meeting. Lily-Rose just sits on one of his office sofas and stares at him for three straight hours.

"Ask if you have something to ask," he said.

She moves so slowly to the armchair, letting her leg stretches out from the slit of her satin gown. Gaius knows she can smell him. Gaius knows she can hear his heartbeat. 

And he is not playing this game with her.

"Aren't you curious about me?" She asks, sounding like a purr to his ears.

"You will tell me what you want to tell me." He gives her a glance before continuing to read the parchment on his desk.

"Aren't you curious about my mom?" She continues. Gaius drops the parchment and sigh.

She knows how to bait him. She is too much like Adora.

"Oh, you curious now? Don't worry, mommy is healthy in New York. Healthy and just as beautiful as your painting." She said with a smirk on her face.

"You look like her,"

She raises an eyebrow, "So you think I'm beautiful?"

"You are."

She roses from her seat and walks to his desk, placing both hands on his desk, proudly, alluringly, wickedly, offering the front view of herself to him.

Yet... it's her eyes, he couldn't stop staring at.

"Your eyes."

"I give you my breast to look at and you focus on my eyes. You miss out on the good stuff, Mr. Augustine." She chuckles. He didn’t.

"Is it always like that?"

They stare at each other before, to his surprise, she tears away from his gaze. Looking shy? Scared? Anxious?

"No. It was brown before." She pulls away from his desk. Gaius tilts his head in amusement and curiosity.

"It was as deep as my mom's. 10 years ago, I had a dream and when I wake up, It changed. Never come back to brown until now."

10 years ago?

"How old are you, Lily-Rose?"

"How old do I look?"

"Barely 20." He answers quickly. Lily-Rose smiles at his answer. "I'm legal enough to be in your bed, Mr. Augustine." She teases.

"Not answering my question."

She sighs, "Do I have to spread my legs in front of you and send you an official letter for you to fuck my vagina? You know what I want from you. You can smell me. I can smell you. Are you that old-fashioned?"

No. Gaius is not playing this game with her

"How old are you, Lily-Rose?"

"Turning 50 this July." 50?

"Are you turned by Adora or Adrian?"

"Both."

Both? A vampire could only have one master.

She slumps on his sofa and stares at him. For once there's no tease in her eyes. Just confusion, and a little hint of fear.

"I am not turned, Mr. Augustine. I was conceived. With my face, you could guess already who is my mom and my dad."

That confirmed his fear. Conceived? How come?

iv.

The fourth time they meet, they fucked. In Gaius' little house on the outskirt of London, 1 month after their last meeting. Lily-Rose in front of his door, in rainy midnight. Wet and crying. The next thing? Gaius couldn't remember.

All he remembers is she fucked him and so did he.

Lily-Rose under him. On top of him. Beside him. Crying. Moaning. Mewling. All Gaius could think is this is the first time Lily-Rose ever called him Gaius instead of Mr. Augustine. 

She called him Gaius while his cock thrusting inside and out her young little cunt. She called him Gaius while his mouth latched to her wet pool. She called him Gaius while he took her from behind, claiming her everything.

Yet she surrenders at his mercy. Letting him using her body, biting her, marking her, and he didn't stop to his disgust.

How could he?

To add his sins, he forgot about his Goddess while his cock burying deep inside her so-called-daughter. 

And he never forgets about Adora before. Never.

Lily-Rose lays beside him. Eyes closed as her breathing calmed down. He could stare at her for days and not complaining about it. She looks so much like Adora, with a hint of Adrian here and there.

“Do you love my mom?” She said, finally opening her eyes.

“I do.” He replies rather quickly. She doesn’t answer, just staring at him with an expression he can't understand.

“You turned my dad. You killed my mom. And now you fucked me. Isn’t it too much of a kink even for you?” She whispers.

“You tempted me. You let me.”

“Did my dad permits you to turn him? Or my mom to kill her?” She propped her head with her elbow, placing one hand on his chest.

“No. But you permitted me,”

She chuckles, “I did. I must be sick. I let you cum all over me.”

Gaius choose not to comment on that. His hands unconsciously caressing the younger vampire’s skin. She is so warm, too warm for a vampire.

“How- how did you happen?” He asked.

Lily-Rose gives him a ‘what the fuck’ look at his question, “Seriously? How did I happen? Sex of course. We just did it.”

“No, Lily-Rose. I know about intercourse. But how? Both of them are vampires. Vampires can’t bear children,”

“I am a miracle.”

You are.

“How?”

“I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to have more knowledge than I do? I’m only 50 years old.”

A wife. A child. Adrian gets everything. Is this God showing him mercy?  After all, Adrian did lose everything.

A pang of jealousy hit Gaius so hard, he had to flinch it away. Did he not suffering enough too? He loses everything too. When will God, if there's any, show him some mercy?

“I’m the product of your sins, Mr. Augustine.” She whispers. Is she? She looks more like an angel than a sin.

“Gaius. It’s Gaius. You called me Gaius earlier and I like it better.” he said. Lily-Rose shakes her head, “Gaius is only when your cock is deep inside me, Mr. Augustine. My endearment to you.”

Her hands already stroking him again. His heart clenched when her hand tightening around his shaft and her lips already down on the tip. He can feel he is tempted again.

Shame. Guilt.

“What are you doing to me?” He whispers and she licks him.

Lily-Rose managed to look so innocent as she looks up, “Me? I’m simply sucking your cock, Mr. Augustine.”

Both knows that it’s not what he asked and both knows it’s not the answer.

v.

Every time they met, they fuck. In his office, in his house, in the museum, in the park, in front of Adora's painting.

Just let him die.

They fuck like their time is limited. When they fuck, his intention is to break her. To find reasons why she keeps doing this. Why she let him cum all over her? Inside her, on her face, on her back, on her chest, there's no more fucking spot he hasn't let his cum drip on her already. 

She smells like him.

His heart is full of guilt and shame after they fuck. Looking at the much, much, younger one, laying down on the floor, spent, red skin between her legs and his smell all over her. Why?

He feels guilty for fucking her.

He feels ashamed.

But he couldn't stop. Not when she looks at him like he is her savior. Like she worships him. Solemnly, only him.

"Stop, fuck- Stop-" His breath hitched as he holds her hip, Lily-Rose rocking on top of him, bouncing eagerly as her world depends on it.

"No. I can feel your cock twitching inside me. Here, Gaius. Here." Her hand guides his hand to her navel while she sits on his cock. Red blood eyes staring at him, clouded with arousal and yearn. She yearns for him. 

Does he look like that every time he stares at Adora's painting for 50 years?

"What are you doing to me?" he grunts as he can feel his cock on her navel every time she bounces.

"Make me come, please. Please. Hurt me." She cries as her movement turns clumsy. "What are you doing to me, Lily-Rose? What the f- fuck... are you doing to me?" Gaius moves his hips upwards to meet her movement. 

"Tell me, what the fuck are you doing to me?!" He groans as he flips their situation. Frustrated. Having her crying under him, moaning as her life depends on his cock, his thrust, his decision.

"Please- please make me come. Spill your cum inside me like you usually did. Please. Mark me. Please, please, please."

He wraps his hand around her neck, fastening his pace. Break her. You must break her and you will no longer feel your guilt, Gaius.

Lily-Rose wraps his legs around his hips, claws his back like she's afraid he will stop.

"Tell me and I'll cum inside you, whore."

She opens her eyes as he said that, teary red blood eyes and.... solace?

"I let you taste your own sin, Gaius. I make you do what you love the most. Making sins."

And he comes. He comes so hard inside her, he cries.

She wanted to hurt him.

And she did.

[halorocks1214]

roa: side stories - the good, the bad, and the hydrofoil

AO3 Link

Word Count: 5423

Summary: Gordon just wanted to spend time with his dad, even if it meant fake smiles and boring conference parties. He didn’t want to think about his traumatizing past, especially not during a hostage negotiation.

AO3 Series Link

oh my god i really just vomited this out. holy crap. i originally was planning to write, like, all of the character parts before i started this no lie. ‘side stories’ was really supposed to be a tiny bow on top of a nicely wrapped gift, buuuut then shit started happening and i felt crappy and just needed to do what i do best and beat the fuck out of fictional characters. hope you enjoy this one! i sure as hell did lmao

Warnings for mentions of minor suicidal idealization

Gordon hated tuxedos.

They were stingy, uptight and physcially tight things that made him look like he was some asshole snob that complained when the champagne wasn’t the right temperature. He would rather wear his awesome shirts or cool tennis shoes any day of the week, also, did he mention these things were tight? Holy cow did his threaten to choke him more than once tonight, and if you made a drinking game based on how many times he readjusted his collar you would need to go to the fucking hospital.

He felt this was important to bring up because the damn thing was choking him, again, but he couldn’t adjust it like he wanted to because he didn’t want to look like a dumbass to all the eyes that were on him suddenly. He wanted to hang out with his father and they both promised to be on their best behavior. Gordon can’t help but wonder if he messed up somehow if his dad’s horrified face was anything to go by.

Gordon hated tuxedos because they had to be the reason he was choking right now. Not the man holding an AK at his face, or the men doing something similar to the other guests. The guests and his father were watching him with beady eyes because he was sweating like a dumbass monkey in a rental bowtie, not because the leader was simultaneously glaring at him while eyeing him down like a piece of meat.

Seriously, suits suck.

Hahaha.

Fuck.

Gordon shoved his hand further out in front of him, “Guuuuuuys, please. I’m sure we can talk about this like reasonable adults--”

The man jutted his gun further out like Gordon did his hand, not budging in the slightest, “Yes, Mr. Adult, I want to speak with you specifically. My boys and I here weren’t expecting there to be a huge party at this establishment right as we robbed it, must have been a last-minute planned one, so we need some extra help getting out of here. You, boy, seem to be our best bet.”

Jeff, in all of his fatherly grace, tried jumping past the two men keeping all the guests at bay, “Leave him out of this you animals!”

Gordon glanced over at his father with a look of indignation in a way that said Really?! You’re gonna do this now?! Rolling his eyes and hoping his dad got the message, Gordon gave the leader one of his best ‘IR Operative Smiles’, “Please, ignore my--”

“Augustine Holland Puckett.”

And there went that grin for the rest of the night.

Gordon found himself choking again, and he couldn’t even blame his outfit. He knew that name. Now he had a look of fear on his face, and he made sure to not look at his father right this moment. His trembles were small, but damn if they weren’t obvious. So not representing IR well right now, panicking in the middle of a job, heh.

Puckkie was his partner during WASP.

The only other partner in crime Gordon had outside of Alan.

Virgil had met him one time when visiting Gordon, made an offhanded comment about how Puckkie could have been his long lost twin.

Gordon scraped through his accident. It fucking sucked, but he eventually started living again.

Puckkie was dead on impact, never suffered, never was in pain. It was one of the few solaces Gordon had throughout all of his bullshit therapy.

The leader was oblivious to that turmoil, assuming it was just because Augustine was freaking out over his identity being known, “You thought you could escape us, huh? Got into WASP, thought the military could protect you, as well as some facial surgery along with it. Thought you could leave your past behind, right? We might have dropped tabs on you when you got accepted, but we always knew where you were.”

How in the fucking coincidence-- Gordon was suddenly aware of some horrifying truths. Puckkie, you little shit, is that why you knew how to lockpick? The fuck? If they never thought to look Puckkie up after they knew he joined it at least explained why they didn’t know the man was fucking dead--

The man suddenly barked, and Gordon felt ten times smaller than before, “Answer me!”

“Yes!” Gordon snapped before he could help himself. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. He could easily tell them they were wrong, that he was Gordon Cooper Tracy, his father right over there could prove it, but he was playing along. At the same time his mind was telling him he was an absolute fucking dumbass, the other was telling him that he could save these people. He might not be the person they were expecting, but he was in WASP. He knew how to do what they probably wanted.

Jeff, however, didn’t know what he knew, which didn’t help at all, “What? No, Gor--”

Right before his real name could be spoken out, one of the henchmen got tired of this man being rowdy. Before Gordon could blink or send another nonverbal shut the fuck up to his dad, Henchman #1 raised the butt of his gun and brought it down, knocking Jeff out cold.

“HEY!” Rage filled Gordon’s veins before he could help it. Not only did he just watch his father get beaten, who knew what that one hit could cause. He’s been back for a few months, but they could never be too careful. Could never avoid a repeat of the Zero-X enough.

The leader didn’t like how Augustine was fighting back, “Excuse me? Why do you give a shit about that man?”

Gordon’s stomach was turning inside out and doing somersaults in his gut. His hands were back down to his sides, fists clenched as his shaking was from a mixture of barely controlled anger and terror, “Don’t beat up the civilians, sir. They haven’t done anything.” Don’t let your true relations show too much. They will abuse that weakness until it doesn’t exist anymore.

The leader simply smirked at the display, “Ah, trying to play protector, are we? Fine, here’s a deal: you come with us quietly and help us escape, and we’ll leave these poor hapless civilians alone. Sound good?”

Gordon felt like he swallowed a giant rock. With sweat dripping down his face at the speed of bullets, he rapidly nodded.

With that response, the leader was suddenly in Gordon’s bubble and gripping his upper arm, shoving the gun under his chin, “Now then, we’re right next to the bay, as well as right next to a hydrofoil dock. That’s our exit.”

The man tried yanking Gordon alongside him, and, for the most part, was successful. He just probably wasn’t expecting to drag such a deadweight. As soon as the word ‘hydrofoil’ was said, Gordon blanked and his ears were ringing. He was subconsciously aware that was what they wanted him to do, but to actually hear it… God, the last time he even thought about touching one was when he and Puckkie were asked to test them. Then he ended up in the hospital for a couple of months, followed by the chair of utter helplessness.

Hell, Gordon was so out of it he wasn’t aware of when the salty air started blowing his hair in every direction, nor the actual vehicle getting closer and closer. The leader gave him a shove, which was enough to give the strawberry blonde clarity to hear his next order, “You get in first, don’t think about running off.”

Gulping, Gordon shakily made his way into the vessel. He looked over at the cockpit and felt a jolt of electricity rush through him. Before he could think about what this all meant, the gun was jutted into his back roughly, “Get moving, August. If we get out of this alive we might consider letting you back in.”

The men’s evil chuckles did absolutely nothing to ease his frazzled mind. He wasn’t even sure how he heard them to begin with. The blood rushing to his ears was as loud as the sea outside, and the ringing his mind was making only minorly quieted since it started.

Another jut of the gun, “Move.”

Juggling the empty air in his hands out of panic, he was suddenly in the seat with the steering wheel, the leader’s AK-47 poking the back of his neck just a little bit more than he would’ve liked. He aggressively took off the jacket part of his suit and ripped off his bowtie for maximum flexibility, leaving only his suspenders over his dress shirt.

He wasn’t sure how he remembered as much as he did, but he wasn’t even thinking as he flipped the switches and turned all the knobs to get this baby roaring. Muscle memory, what a finicky beast. The boat was suddenly purring, and it brought a strange mixture of relief and horror to Gordon’s ears.

Brushing his hands over the top of the steering wheel, he shakily gripped the circle of rubber and exhaled. He was here now and there was no going back. They all sat with bated breath, but before Gordon took off, he managed a cheeky smile as he turned around ever so slightly, “So, about that weather?”

The tip of the gun brushed his nose, “You think this is funny?”

Gordon flinched in on himself and refocused on the world outside, “O-Okay, geez. Tough crowd...”

And with that, they were moving. It was slow going at first, Gordon had to get re-used to the sensitivity of such a craft, but the leader wasn’t happy with it, “Hey, are you stalling?”

Gordon barely heard the question, “W-What? No, I just--”

The leader was as up in his face as much he could be without obstructing his vision to the outside, “Then why the hell are you driving like my mother is the one behind the wheel?”

Where the hell was Gordon getting his bite from? And why was it only coming now? “Dude, I promise to get you out of here, but if I start pushing it now we could break something. Hell, we’re still in the harb--”

Damn, don’t poke his eye out with that gun if you want him to see to drive, asshole, “I don’t care. At this rate, we’re practically sitting ducks. Start moving it or we can dump your body with one bullet hole in it for them to find instead.”

Gordon was left no choice but to listen. The hydrofoil was gunning it as they exited the docks, the already huge and vast sea getting bigger and bigger.

Henchman #1 was whooping in excitement, “Woah, look at this baby go!”

Henchman #2 was utterly seasick, “God, why did you want to join this branch…”

The leader groaned. He must be used to working with idiots, “Both of you shut your asses up and let little August here do his job.”

Gordon was going to retort with something to lighten the dark cloud in his mind, to make these guys regret forcing him to help them by being an annoying little shit, but instead, he took one teensy moment to blink, and with it, a GDF ship was in their way, them careening right towards it.

The three robbers were screaming behind him. Gordon autopiloted to try and dodge, but it wasn’t enough. They crashed right into the side, stopping them in their tracks.

What really happened was that Gordon’s attempt to dodge was enough to make the vehicle only scrape the side of the boat for a few seconds, the friction slowing it down. The hydrofoil and the gigantic ship were parallel-ly touching one another, both sitting as still as they could in the crazy waves of the ocean.

But Gordon didn’t know that. All he knew was that he crashed.

Was this it?

Would he be able to walk? Would there be more therapy?

Or were his hopes dashed? You could only have one miracle a lifetime after all.

“--et him go! Put down your wea--”

“--re not suicidal! Let us leave and may--”

Oh God, everything hurt.

His spine, his chest, his arms that gripped the parallel bars.

All the poking and prodding and scraping and surgery-- he can’t do it again. He can’t.

“--ot breathing! Jesus, let him g--”

“--ts his problem, not ou--”

The only thing he couldn’t feel were his damn legs, the most important limbs he had.

God, he was useless. No more swimming. No more running away after a prank.

It would’ve been better if he was the one that died.

“--t an oxygen mask! Quickly! Gor--”

“--ght away, sir! You heard the ma--”

Dammit, he wanted his dad.

His dumb, stubborn father who was dead like Gordon should be.

His father could fix anything, even this mess, yet he was gone, out of this world, never to return again--

“--sus, Squirt. Gordon, hey--”

Hands and arms were suddenly gripping him, laying him down on gravely ground, except these arms were familiar. Safe and warm. Gordon gained enough clarity to at least see who was holding him. The sight made him choke even more.

Dad.

He wasn’t dead, he was right here. Regardless if he could make it better, Gordon just wanted to see him again. Hallucination or not, he was going to abuse this moment till the end. Springing up from his back, he wrapped his arms around his father and held on tight. His fingernails were sharp, he forgot to clip them last week (couldn’t worry about clipping them when he needed to focus on walking again), so he was probably causing an ungodly amount of discomfort in his father’s back, but he just couldn’t help but feel everything in front of him.

Meanwhile, Jeff just simply returned the favor, keeping his arms around Gordon in an attempt to ground his son. He wasn’t sure what he was wincing over, his son ripping the skin off his back through his shirt or the way he just wouldn’t stop sobbing. Gordon was practically screaming in his arms and there was nothing he could do except try and squeeze him back to reality.

Eventually, the squad of GDF soldiers was back with an oxygen mask and a hypodermic needle. The highest-ranking one gestured toward the needle, “It’s your decision, sir.”

Jeff could barely think over the way his son was losing it in his arms. He was going to snap himself if he had to listen to the heartbreaking noise any longer. He placed his chin on Gordon’s head, jaw clenching in emotional pain, “Do it.”

It was a blur what happened next. All Jeff was sure about was that the squad got to work as he told them to. It hurt as Gordon was taken from his arms, his sobs getting worse at the loss of contact. Still holding his hand, Jeff grimaced at the way Gordon tried finding him again, “D-Dad, no--” he cried out, and he only got more hysterical at the sight of the needle coming toward his arm.

God, he was a terrible father.

Holding Gordon down, they were finally able to give his son the sedative and slip the oxygen mask over his face. Tear tracks were dripping down his face, the snot tracks not much better, but at least his eyes were closed, and the constant murkiness of the oxygen mask reminded Jeff that Gordon was still breathing, albeit very heavily.

The next few hours were an even worse blur. At some point, paramedics came and put his son on a stretcher. He doesn’t really need a hospital, but we’re being safe. Unless you object? Jeff remembered blearily shaking his head no, not letting go of Gordon’s hand at all, not even as they situated him in a private hospital room.

Now Jeff wasn’t holding his hand. The hospital had insisted on checking out the father’s head, which he begrudgingly let them do, but as soon as they were done, he was right back in his son’s room waiting for him to wake up, This time, however, he was afraid to regrip his son’s hand. As if Gordon were fragile, made of glass.

The thought made Jeff chuckle. Gordon? Fragile? No way in hell.

The chuckles ever so slowly turned into sobs before Jeff could help himself.

He’s cried a lot since being back on Earth when learning what his sons have been up to. Crushing hugs given to his no-longer kids in the spur of the moment, but as selfish as it was, he never remembered outright sobbing at any of the admissions of horrors.

At least, not until right now.

---

Each brother had a turn to watch over Gordon, even Alan, who had the excuse of still being able to do homework in a hospital room, but now it was Scott’s round to brave the uncomfortableness of these damn chairs.

He was reading one of those awful gossip magazines to get a good laugh. What could he say, some of the shit they came up with was priceless. The laughter distracted him from everything that threatened to take over his mind. His despair at Gordon’s physical state, his rage at The Chaos Crew for causing this: he read something about the latest Bachelor of the Year’s secret weight loss trick and forgot all about it.

It was as peaceful as the situation could be, that is until Scott heard moaning from the bed.

Subconsciously gripping the magazine a little tighter, probably leaving permanent creases, Scott slowly looked up with wide eyes, and he meant slowly. Some bleak part of his mind hoped that if he took long enough what he was expecting to see wasn’t actually happening. Too bad, it was.

Gordon was laying in his hospital bed (as if he could go anywhere else), bandages and casts adorning just about 90% of his body. What made this sight different was the glassy, whited-out eyes to go with his white medical garments. Scott was pretty sure Gordon would be shaking his head even more if there wasn’t a neck brace in the way, “No… can’t… stop… no feeling… anything…”

Dammit dammit dammit-- worst older brother ever.

Shooting out of his chair but carefully meandering to his little brother’s bedside, trying not to scare him any more than he was, Scott gulped as he tried bringing his brother back to planet Earth, “Hey, buddy… it’s going to be okay. You’re not…” That word shouldn’t be dirty, why was it dirty? “Paralyzed... You’re in a lot of pain, and you’re gonna need a lot of rest, but you won’t need therapy.” Not this time, thank God.

For a second, Scott thought he did it. Gordon’s eyes were still glassy, but his eyebrows were more creased in a way that said he was thinking about something, not in that way that said he was in pain. Scott inhaled, but then choked on that breath as he watched Gordon’s crease immediately go back to the latter kind, “No, I can’t… not here… please… no more…”

Gordon hated hospitals ever since WASP and Scott was an absolute fool for not thinking that it would come down to this.

Taking a deep breath and leaning back away from his brother, Scott panickedly pulled out his watch and conceded, “John, fuck, help me out.”

The ginger shook his head and blinked. He was about to try and joke, after all, Scott called him rather abruptly, but then he saw the way Scott was practically disheveled and got serious, “Okay, what’s the situation?”

Scott ran a hand through his hair, “Shit, it’s Gordon. He’s stuck in a pretty bad flashback of some sorts and it seems like I’m not making it very far, or maybe I’m not trying hard enough. God, fuck, I’m awful, I just can’t--”

“Woah, okay, back that right up, Scott,” John held his hands in a surrender position. The last thing anybody needed was two brothers deep in a panic attack, “First of all, you’re not awful, pretty sure seeing Gordon in that state would freak anybody else out, you just have the added benefit of knowing that it feels like absolute shit, and second of all, back to the important thing you literally called me for: is he struggling in a way that is hurting himself or destroying his surroundings?”

Scott swallowed the metaphorical rock in his throat. He knew John was probably reciting stuff he and Virgil did for the eldest when he had an attack and he hated it, but John didn’t need to know that, “N-No, he’s just glassy-eyed and can’t hear a damn thing I’m saying.”

John sighed. Or maybe hissed. Scott wasn’t sure and he didn’t want to really find out. The astronaut explained, “Alright, this is going to suck a lot, but the only thing you can do is watch Gordon and make sure he doesn’t break himself or anything around him. If you’re feeling lucky, you can maybe touch him if you don’t think it’ll make it worse, but otherwise, murmur quiet reassurances and don’t leave him until you are one hundred percent sure he’s back in reality, okay?”

Scott could feel the sweat dripping down his back as he nodded, “Okay. Thanks, John.”

The ginger simply nodded before flinching at the alarms that blared in the background, “Dammit, got to go, Scott, duty calls. Virgil, Alan, and Kayo are doing just fine, just so you know and before you panic over anything else like you probably want to, got it? See you soon.” With that, John saluted and cut the call.

It took Scott a few seconds to bring his wrist down to his lap. Staring at said lap, he was reminded of the task at hand when Gordon mumbled more pleas. The only one Scott was able to make out absolutely ripped his chest in half, “Pls… jus’ wan’ Dad…”

Barely stopping the tears from falling, Scott shakily reached one of his hands out and gripped the wrist that wasn’t in a cast, gently squeezing his younger bro’s arm and immensely relaxing at how it genuinely calmed the swimmer down, “Just hang on buddy, you’re gonna be fine.”

He had to be. Scott couldn’t handle a repeat of the hydrofoil.

Nobody could, least of all Gordon.

“Just hang on…”

Scott hoped his thunderous steps didn’t scare anyone, whether it was the private landing strip employees or the hospital ones, he didn’t know. The Colonel called them about an interesting situation she had landed herself in. Notice: replace interesting with horrifying and you’ll get the gist of how Scott was feeling.

She professionally listed off all the facts: serial-robbers that were too sneaky for their own good robbed the place the business party that Gordon and Jeff were at was being held without knowing a dang party was happening. Scott’s father mentioned it was spur of the moment, so maybe that’s why they never considered it. Regardless, as they tried leaving, security saw them and that left them to panic and take control over the place.

They saw Gordon and mistook him for a different WASP officer (Scott desperately tried holding back a snort at that statement) and promised to leave everyone unharmed if he helped them escape in a goddamn hydrofoil. Those bastards were lucky they got locked up. Scott had such wonderful ideas for releasing stress if he ever met them in person.

It didn’t help that the Colonel said his father was injured in the process. Total killer stress relievers those men would have been.

Shaking his head, Scott asked the receptionist where Gordon Tracy’s room was and took no time getting over there. The door was shut, which Scott was grateful for. Taking a deep breath, Scott slowly entered the dark room and prepared himself for whatever he was about to see.

To be honest, it wasn’t as bad as he was expecting it to be. It was still a little rough, but he did have an entire plane ride to think of the worst to come, so if there was anything to be wrong about tonight…

Shaking his head once more, Scott tiptoed into the room and fully grasped the situation. Gordon was physically okay for the most part. He looked like he was thrown through a Kentucky Twister and back, and the oxygen mask only highlighted his paler-than-normal skin tone, but for the most part, he just needed some sleep and familial care.

Jeff was also okay. He was going to have an awful crick in his neck with how he was sleeping in that chair, but the square bandage that adorned his forehead was all that Scott could see was wrong. Realizing the world wasn’t ending, Scott exhaled a relaxing breath and walked over to sit next to his father.

Right as he did, Jeff stirred, and Scott simply waited for the older man to fully wake up. Once he did, he practically jumped at seeing Scott but also sagged his shoulders in the same movement. Scott could always help him form proper thoughts, “Scotty, thank God… it was--”

“Awful? Terrible?” Scott finished for him, and he was only partially right. The eldest continued for a little bit more, “Aunt Casey explained some things. Geez, one of your first business excursions back on the planet and it ends with you getting beaten over the head, heh, I… Father?”

Scott stopped at Jeff’s shaking head. The father looked at Gordon for a little bit before turning back to look at Scott with wide eyes, “Jesus, Scott, I-- he-- Gordon was practically screaming when we got him back from those robbers. Terrible is barely scratching the surface.”

Scott full bodily flinched at Jeff’s confession. God, he kept being bad at this. Of course, Gordon would have a major freakout over being forced in a hydrofoil again. Totally not like one didn’t nearly wipe him off the face of the Earth or anything, “Yeah… Listen, I know this gives off the wrong vibe, but sorry you had to see that. Man, you’re just having a bad time finding out about what we’ve been through while you were gone, huh?” Scott leaned back into his chair and formed a loose grin on his face.

Jeff somewhat relaxed at his son’s words. He was reminded that this could be a lot worse, and since it wasn’t, he felt that it was easier to truly let go, “Don’t worry, I get what you mean.”

Scott shrugged before sitting up again, just so he could make his words more professional, “This is Gordon’s story, but I will give the general details to ease your mind, as well as that concussion. Right after he got his gold medal and after his first few months into college, he decided to apply for WASP. Needless to say, he got accepted and it, uh, didn’t end well.”

Now it was Jeff’s turn to full bodily flinch. Trailing away from his eldest child, he absentmindedly examined Gordon once more. It felt odd seeing him so peaceful after what had to have been the worst panic attack of his life. Swallowing his spit, Jeff wasn’t looking at Scott as he spoke, “Thank you, Scotty. For watching over them. I know you probably think you didn’t protect them as much as you could, but from my eyes, you did more than enough, and I will never display enough gratitude for everything you must have done in my absence.”

Nodding, Scott wasn’t sure how much he believed those words, but they did feel nice to hear, especially from his father, “Thanks, Dad, that means a lot.”

The two men glanced at one another with toothy grins, telling one another that panic time was over and that everything was alright. Like a mirror image, the two leaned back into their chairs at the same time, both watching the bed in front of them the whole way.

Now it was time to wait.

---

Oi, hangovers were the worst thing on the planet.

Groggily sitting up, Gordon shook his head as he tried remembering what the hell happened and why he felt like he got squashed by Virgil in ‘Two. Right before asking himself how much he had to drink at that party, he was suddenly aware of the oxygen mask over his face.

Oh fuck.

That’s right. That happened.

…

What else was he supposed to say? Other than wanting to sag back into the pillows behind him, which he did, he was truly lost. He probably knocked off whatever few years his dad’s lifespan had left after his eight years in space, so that was great. Bringing his hand up, he rubbed his eye in annoyance.

Taking his hand away, he looked to his left to see two figures in his room with him: Scott and his dad. Heh, figures Scott would be here. Probably thought Gordon lost a leg or something. As for right now, the brunette was fast asleep and somewhat drooling on his chest, which brought momentary joy to the blonde. He shut his eyes and chuckled a few times.

Gordon abruptly opened them after realizing something. Looking back at his family, he blinked and finally noticed that his dad was, in fact, not asleep like Scott. He was awake, his wide eyes only rivaled by how hard he was gripping the chair’s arms.

Before Gordon could say one of his famous one-liners or potentially start screaming at the top of his lungs like a bad comedy, Jeff was over him and wrapping him in a giant hug. Oh. Not sure how to process the situation, Gordon simply hugged his father back, albeit much softer. He was still pretty exhausted from previous events.

It was a few minutes before Jeff’s voice rang out from his back. It was husky in a way that Gordon knew the man was barely holding back everything that wanted to spill out, “Before we go forward, before we decide what to do from here,” Jeff leaned out of the hug and kept his hands on Gordon’s shoulders. Gordon youthfully gasped at the sight of tears on his father’s cheeks, “I just want you to know how damn proud I am of you boys, how proud I am of you. You all became fine young men, and I couldn’t be any more excited to call you all my own.”

Gordon was glad the oxygen mask was still on. Tears were leaking down his face, and his waterworks tasted significantly salty, so that could at least be averted for now, “Thanks, Dad, I’m happy to call you my father too.”

Jeff could only grin and squeeze his shoulders. They stood there in that position for a while, neither wanting to move or look away from the face in front of them out of fear the peace would be shattered. Gordon was going to need to tell Jeff how the man nearly came back to one of his children in a wheelchair, and Jeff was, of course, going to cry his heart out just like he did over Scott’s mission or John’s isolation.

But for right now, everything was okay, which something all of the Tracys wondered if they would feel again.

The click of a camera could be heard. Jeff turned his head slowly while Gordon peered around his father’s side.

Scott was cheekily grinning and holding his phone horizontally, “Oops, did I accidentally take a picture? My bad.”

The other two men rolled their eyes, and before Jeff could tell his eldest off, Gordon shook his shoulders to loosen them and reached behind him, “Alright, fair enough, Scott, you got me on that one. But can you,” with the speed of a dolphin, Gordon yanked one of the pillows out from behind him and chucked it right at Scott, “Take this?!”

For one with such good reflexes, Scott didn’t do much in avoiding the soft projectile that nailed him right in the face, nearly making him drop his phone. Gordon started laughing his ass off as the fluffy object slowly slid off his brother’s face like badly made slime, and Jeff couldn’t help his laughter either.

Scott always did lower his defenses around his younger brothers.

Too bad those same younger brothers loved abusing that fact.

Jeff grinned to himself.

Nah, not abuse. Playfully take advantage of.

That was more Gordon’s style, and Jeff was just glad that didn’t change about him, no matter what he’d been through.

[chchanging]

I wrote too much about Lily being dead, and it made me sad—here’s an alternate universe where things aren’t as bad but are somehow just as bad (this was supposed to just be cute, I’m sorry skfsjdfk)

MC: Rossi Mayhew, the one who ruins everything

“I love our job,” Lily stands amidst piles of ashy vampire remains, stroking her crossbow lovingly as if it were a cherished pet rather than a deadly weapon. Fangs flash through her bright grin, adding a wicked glint to her otherwise childlike glee. “Have I mentioned lately that I love our job?”

She spins around lightly to face her two companions, the inhuman grace of vampirism woven into her every move after spending a whole year among their ranks.

One of the others—a supermodel-tall, amber-skinned woman with long dark braids falling down past her shoulders where her bun had come undone—yanks savagely on the hilt of her sword. The blade comes lose, spraying blood from the chest cavity of the woman it had previously been buried in. With a dying yowl, the injured party crumbles into nothing more than a pile of dust.

Rossi stands triumphantly, shoulders heaving with effort, and tosses a tired, amused look towards her best friend.

“I’m glad you’re having fun.” She titters good-naturedly, “Frankly, I’m getting a little tired of clean-up duty.”

With every supervillain, there were sure to be those few blindly devoted followers cropping up like weeds just asking to be plucked—at least that’s what Lily had pointed out after Rheya had been defeated and Jax had been laid to rest. It had only taken a little bit of investigating to prove her right. Neither Adrian nor Kamilah had been content to just let them be, to stir up trouble wherever they please—but both have been increasingly busy as of late.

Luckily the great majority of Rheya’s remaining followers had been none too bright, and therefore rather easy to track down. Lily had been all too pleased to put together her own little strike team, setting out to put an end to any potential danger while the other two held things down on the home front.

“Yes, such a shame that ‘Senator Raines’ was too busy to join us this morning.” Their third pipes in, brushing the coating of ash off of his hands. He bends down to retrieve his sword from where it had been knocked to the ground, sliding it back into place in its scabbard. “It was wise attacking in the daytime, when they had nowhere to run—that does not mean I have to like it.”

Lily gives him a sarcastic smile, “You’re on evil vampire probation, Gaius, you don’t get to choose jobs that you like.” Gaius clicks his tongue in response and rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue. She has a point, after all.

He’d been surprisingly well-behaved all this time, save for the occasional snark. Given how rough things had been when they’d worked with him the first time, Rossi had expected some friction. She’d been hesitant, but Kamilah had pulled her aside the night they’d decided to let him live.

We can’t just let him go out in his own and trust him not to fall into...old habits. She’d said, rather tightly. Rossi knew that the decision had been hard on her, but as much as she knew that, she also couldn’t just ignore how wrong it would’ve felt to sentence him to death after he’d played such an integral part in Rheya’s defeat. He’s tasted the Blood of the First, and we haven’t seen how much of that power he still holds. If he goes off the deep end again you’re our greatest contingency plan.

Rossi hadn’t minded the idea of playing babysitter—she was the main reason he was allowed to live, and it wasn’t a problem if she had to take responsibility for that. Not to mention he is unstoppable in a fight, which had worked in their favor more than once since these little excursions had begun. More than once she and Lily had been forced to admit they’d been glad to have him along when things got messy.

She glances over at him, watching has he rolls his shoulders and neck to loosen up his muscles. He’d long since ditched his old-timey getup for something more modern—slim, dark pants and a grey long-sleeve v-neck. It suits him, she’d decided—and keeps deciding, often while her eyes are lingering on the muscles of his forearms where he’d rolled up his sleeves, or on the defined line of his collarbone.

He’s smirking like the cat who caught the mouse, pleased with himself after what was no doubt another overly simple battle. There’s a little extra color to his cheeks, and a lively light in his eyes. He can complain all he wants, but she knows that he is fully in his element, here—looking more alive than he had even after Rheya’s demise.

It takes a little too long for her to realize that she’d been staring—long enough that she isn’t the only one who does. Lily watches her with an incredulous brow raised, a hand on her hip. Rossi balks, swallowing hard and averting her eyes from the both of them.

Lily’s gaze weighs on her for a few more moments before she finally clears her throat. “I’m gonna check the rest of the place out—see if these guys were in touch with any other pro-Rheya groups.” Gaius nods at her, and she disappears into one of the back rooms of the dingy little hideout this particular group of insurgents had chosen for themselves.

It’s little more than a shack in the middle of the woods a few hours outside of the city. It’s dark, the walls creak with the slightest breeze, the windows are terribly drafty, and the whole place reeks of mold and mildew.

Unable to focus on much else now that she isn’t preoccupied with being attacked, Rossi can’t help but wrinkle her nose.

“Ugh,” she grunts unhappily, “why can’t anyone ever start an evil goddess cult in a five star hotel? This place sucks.”

Gaius scans the room as if making sure Lily isn’t about to pop out of the room right this second, and once he seems satisfied his face softens into a genuine smile. It’s gentler than Rossi is used to, even now.

He gives her a slow once-over, noting her rumpled clothes and disheveled hair.

“That would make our being inconspicuous a little more difficult, don’t you think?” He asks lowly, amusement in his tone. She rolls her eyes.

He approaches her slowly, a fondness in his eyes that makes her heart skip a beat. She notices belatedly that she’s holding her breath.

“Ah,” She begins, watching him closely, “we know all about being inconspicuous, don’t we?”

Her teasing tone earns her a rumbling chuckle. The sound of it warms her, makes her smile without really meaning to. He comes to a stop right in front of her, eyes sparkling, and extends a hand to her with his palm up.

“Here.” He says plainly, voice soft.

She glances down at it, then looks back at him, grinning quizzically. She lays her hand in his, the warmth comforting. “What?”

There’s a spark of confusion that flits across his face, his smile growing infinitely wider. He looks like he’s just been let in on the world’s greatest joke, and he couldn’t be more delighted. “I...was offering you the hair tie.” Her eyes blow wide, shooting back down to where she still holds his hand and finally noticing the black band he wears around his wrist.

More often than not he ties the majority of his wavy hair up in a stylish knot, so she can always count on him to have extras if she loses her own.

She feels her entire face heat up with a blush so intense she could probably fry an egg.

Of course...

She refuses to meet his eyes even once in the time it takes her to accept his offered hair tie and redo her previous bun, just stares holes into the ground as the embarrassment eats her alive and silently curses herself for being an idiot.

She hears his breathy laugh, feels him step a little closer.

“I liked your idea better, though.”

Her cheek tingles under his touch, his fingers tracing softly along her skin until they hook under her chin. He lifts her face, waiting patiently until she finally gives in and meets his eyes once more.

“Such a shy little thing, aren’t you?” He murmurs, voice smooth and sweet like honey. Indignation flares, and she opens her mouth to tell him off quickly and cleverly. She would have, too, had she not been promptly distracted by his lips brushing lightly against the corner of her mouth.

Righteous anger forgotten, she attempts to turn her head and catch him in a kiss of her own, but he is already pulling away before she can get a better angle. His eyes fill with a tender amusement while hers linger on his smile. The pad of his thumb stops her from leaning back in, his hand still warming the spot beneath her chin.

“Not here, lovely.” He rumbles, sounding as though he wants it as much as she does. “Inconspicuous, remember?”

Rossi lets out a mighty groan, pouting up at him without shame.

“Gaius Augustine, you’re nothing but a bully!”

It’s more than a chuckle, this time. His laugh is light and melodic in a way that sends the butterflies in her stomach fluttering. He looks so uncharacteristically happy right now that it warms her heart even as she frowns petulantly up at him.

Their relationship had been a rather recent development. When others are around he keeps mostly to himself—polite but distant with everyone—but it had seemed that even someone such as himself craved companionship, because Rossi had noticed that when left on his own he often sought her out.

She doesn’t suspect it had started with any romantic intentions. Gaius had spent the previous millennia surrounded by those he considered friends, family, and even lovers—it only made sense now that he’d be a little lonely. Rossi had been the one who’d shown him kindness, who’d vouched for him back when she’d had no reason to. Not only that, but her argument for keeping him alive is likely the only reason he still is. She must’ve seemed like the safest bet.

But days turned into weeks turned into months—the more time they spent together, the more they found they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. Rossi didn’t treat him like the plague, and Gaius didn’t treat her as though she were an old glass doll ready to shatter at the slightest provocation.

In their down time he’d told her stories of the past, and she’d shown him her favorite spots around the city. He’d trained her, and slowly he’d learned what it was like to live a normal life, again.

“Come, now, none of that.” Once more, he dips his head down. Their lips meet, a searing, passionate kiss that leaves them both breathless despite its brevity. He hums as he pulls away, cheeks pink. “You know all my weaknesses.”

Rossi giggles, light-headed.

“We’ve got a two hour drive back home—we should take what we can get.” She rises up on her toes for just long enough to give him another peck.

He huffs, rolling his eyes and frowning. “Lily’s going to make me drive again. She’s realized I can’t argue once she brings up my ‘probation’.” With a heavy sigh, he lets his forehead rest on her shoulder. Rossi laughs and strokes the back of his neck. “If you had all just killed me that night, at least I wouldn’t be stuck with all the grunt work.”

“Ooooh, poor baby!” Rossi trills, endlessly entertained by his dramatics. “If you’re really that tired, I’ll drive back.”

He turns his head just enough to peer up at her from the corner of his eye. “Truly, you are the best of us, Rossi Mayhew. I know not what I would do without you, only that it is too bleak to even consider.”

She shoves him off, watching as he stumbles with a pleased little smile on his face. “Lily! We’ll be waiting out in the car!” She shouts back towards the door Lily had disappeared behind, flipping her lover the bird all the while. She hears a muffled shout of acknowledgement in response. “Hurry, before I string Gaius up in the sun for a laugh!”

“Never have I known a kinder soul than you,” Gaius croons, wrapping his arms around her waist as she turns her back and heads for the door. “Your mercy knows no bounds.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she deadpans, stifling her laughter. “Just hand over the keys.”

——

Rossi knows Lily too well to believe the silence they drive in is benign. She’s been tapping away at her keyboard ever since they’d started the long drive back into the city. Nothing unusual about it, save for the fact that she hadn’t said a word the entire time.

It had been an hour and a half, Gaius was reclined in the passenger seat with his arms folded over his chest and his head resting off to the side. The slow, steady rise and fall of his chest led her to believe he’d fallen asleep. He’d relaxed as soon as they’d returned back to the safety of tinted windows and luxury leather seats—a gift from Adrian to Lily when this had all started to make her job a little easier.

Rossi’s eyes keep drifting back to him during the more boring parts of the drive. His head is turned away from her, but every once in a while she can just slightly see the way his eyes flutter in a dream.

Her lips quirk up a bit when it happens again, and she turns her eyes back towards the road.

“So, what is it with you two?”

Lily’s tone isn’t accusing, not even a little betrayed, but there’s a little edge there that’s almost akin to panic. She’s noticed how close they’ve been, and she’s begging Rossi to make it make sense.

Rossi winces imperceptibly, keeping her eyes on the road instead of meeting Lily’s in the rear view mirror. She’s afraid of what she might see there, but not really all that surprised that the cat is clawing it’s way out of the bag.

For as long as she’d known her, Lily had always been the smartest person in the room, regardless of said room’s size and/or population—that’s always been a fact. It had just never worked against Rossi, herself, before.

“What do you mean?” It’s painfully obvious, even to herself, that she’s stalling. She hadn’t expected this little fling to happen in the first place, so she hadn’t spent much time coming up with a reasonable explanation in the event that one of her friends so happened to stumble upon the truth. She doesn’t know what to say, or even if there’s anything that she could say at this point.

Lily scoffs quietly, “Girl, don’t insult me, ok?” Rossi expects to see anger in her eyes when she meets them, but really she just looks tired. “You two aren’t nearly as subtle as you seem to think you are. Maybe I wouldn’t have noticed if we haven’t been spending literal days together at a time. We spent those couple days investigating that tip in Jersey and you guys were holding back so hard I thought one of you was gonna sprain something...”

Rossi bites her lip, chewing at it nervously.

“Honestly, at this point I was just waiting to see how long it was gonna take for you to tell me.”

She glances guiltily over at the passenger seat, muted surprise tingling at the edges of her mind when she sees that Gaius’ eyes are open. She wonders how long he’d been awake, but now isn’t the time to bring it up.

“I’m...I’m so sorry, Lil, I just...”

She doesn’t want to admit that she’d been the slightest bit ashamed, especially not when he is awake to hear it.

But she had been, hadn’t she? Why else would she have struggled for so long to keep it a secret. She can’t deny how he makes her feel—whole, and happy for the first time since Jax had died. They’d been in a strange place since she’d come back from the dead—and Rossi’s stubborn refusal to admit to herself that anything had been different had ensured that they’d remained in that place without closure up until the moment he’d turned to ash.

Had that been what she was running from all along? Was she just hiding away from it in the arms of someone new?

Does she love Gaius? Or does she like the way he lets her forget her guilt?

The silence that permeates the car is heavy, oppressive. Rossi doesn’t know how she planned to finish her apology, and she doesn’t continue. Whatever she says right now, with her thoughts and feelings in a jumble like this, will be terribly hollow. Too hollow for words between best friends. Between sisters.

Her eyes sting, but she blinks a few times to clear them. Gaius says nothing, grip on his own arms tightening as his brows knit together in discontent.

She knows she’s letting them both down, right now. She can’t give either of them what they want; she can’t give them a clear definition of her relationship with him. Can’t explain what it is she hopes to gain.

Lily sighs heavily when she resigns herself to the fact that she won’t be getting an answer today. “Don’t worry,” she promises, “Adrian and Kamilah won’t hear a thing about it from me. But for the record? You should talk to him. He’s not just some guy, Rossi—not after what he’s done.”

Rossi’s grip tightens on the wheel. Lily is right. Of course she is.

Dread settles heavily in her gut, its home there already well-established. The conversation that awaits her at home is not going to be an easy one.