#feel outdated + now that I draw ears think of all the new possibilities I can give sier peircings now like cmon

[chisatowo]

Thinks abt eternal gales

[blog4snape]

What if I Meant it? (2)

Pairing: (young) Severus Snape (M) x Reader (F) 

Genre: Fluff with some soft angst

Rating: Citrus (very safe for work)

Summary: A follow-up from the previous chapter. After Severus leaves your classroom, you notice he left his book behind.

Warnings: *spoilers* invasion of privacy

Word Count: 1.7K

Date Written: 9/10/2020

~~~~

June 18th, 1978

After Severus left your classroom in a huff, you sighed, turning your gaze over to the indentation he had left in the pit. He had forgotten his book. You pulled yourself up from your chair and crossed the room to the fortress of pillows, gingerly picking up the discarded item. The book opened naturally to an outlined message, the words smudged from constant touch. Several pages were folded into the shape of a heart with notes written hastily into the inner margins. Curious, you squinted your eyes trying to read the blotched and scribbled writing in the inner corner of the book. Your face flushed, immediately snapping the book shut and holding it farther away from you.

After a moment of collecting yourself, you stared down at the cover of his book. It was an outdated divination book, one he must have gotten from a secondhand book shop for next to nothing. ‘But then again,’ you thought to yourself, ‘all of divination is quite outdated.” You scratched your scalp. 

In your syllabus and throughout the first week of classes, you had expressed that there was no need for any of your students to buy the books. You didn’t require any of your students to purchase divination books, as most of the lessons you taught were hands-on anyway and the books were frankly full of rubbish. Tracing a finger over the worn-out cover, you smiled softly to yourself. Severus was an excellent listener--it couldn’t have been a mishearing--he must have taken an interest in the subject to go out of his way to purchase a divination book. 

‘Or in you.’ The words floated in your head, reminding you of the notes you had just seen scratched into the book still in your hands. 

You sighed, laying in the pit. It was still warm from where Severus had been resting, and you caught a hint of the scent of pine and lavender that would tend to cling to him. You opened the book once more, flipping through the notes he had written.

“That dunderhead Potter wasn’t paying attention to the lesson on Ichthyomancy. He got slapped by the fish we were working with today-”

You laughed, remembering the giant trout that smacked James Potter’s face last week when he decided to mess with it during your lesson after your instruction not to. “You deserved it, Potter,” you laughed, causing other students to follow your footsteps. You said it then and you’d say it again now. 

“-It was pretty great, even the professor laughed at him. She has a cute laugh.” 

As your eyes traveled further down the page, seeing what Severus thought of your laugh made it halt in your throat. Your cheeks burned as you continued to read the comments he wrote. The majority of all of the writing was about divination class- most of them were notes he had written from the lectures. You allowed yourself to have a new teacher’s proud grin, seeing that he was getting a lot out of your lessons. But as you kept turning pages, you found yourself appearing in the margins more and more. Not all of the words were about you, but many of them mentioned you in some way or another. 

‘I told her I had taken quite a liking to ferns. The next week she waved me over after class with a huge smile on her face. She looked so excited. She gave me a tiny fern plant whose sparse fronds had yet to unfurl.’ 

Next to the note was a small doodle of a baby fern. You grinned, it was the cutest drawing you’ve ever seen.

‘She tutored me after class today. She told me to “keep up the good work” and hugged me afterward.’

You nodded, glad to help your students feel more confident in their abilities and glad that Severus Snape was one of them.

‘She baked us biscuits because we all got high marks on the test last week. They tasted good.’

You smiled, happy to know your students liked your gifts. For every test they aced, you would give your students biscuits as a reward. You figured the upperclassmen deserved a treat every now and then, as they’re usually stressing about the OWLs and their NEWT classes.

‘She has pretty eyes.’

Your smile faded. You had to read that line again. You adjusted the book in your hands, moving one hand to your temple. Were you reading that right? 

‘She held me while I cried. It was all I’ve ever wanted. I want her to hold me again.’

‘She doesn’t want to tell me about who she saw that night. But, she didn’t ask me about the werewolf. So I guess I’ll stop asking her. For now.’ 

That night a boggart was in your classroom. You bit your index nail, images of your boggart pressing into your mind. With all that had been happening lately, you didn’t even realize he had stopped asking you but you instantly felt gratitude blossom in your chest. You read the past two notes again, feeling regret at the way you handled the situation. You wished you had been harsher. Any other teacher wouldn’t have given in to his demands. But he wasn’t just your student--he was your old friend.  

‘Her hands are soft.’

Was he just your friend? Your heart thumped, wondering if he only thought of you as his friend, also.

‘I like her plants. She’s got a bunch all over the classroom. Whenever I ask her about one, she gets so excited and tells me all she can about it. I already knew most of it, but I haven’t the heart to interrupt her. I like when she gets passionate about something, and the way she rambles about plants is cute.’

The note was surrounded by small drawings of the plants around your classroom. You stroked the ink outlines of the leaves with an appreciative grin. He was rather talented.

‘She’s so cute when she’s setting something on fire.’

Despite the flush on your cheeks, you chuckled a bit. Divination allowed you to set a lot of things on fire, and sometimes you seemed just a bit too eager. ‘So are you,’ you murmured, thinking of Severus’ passion for learning.

‘She smiled at me today and told me something. I was too focused on her mouth to remember what she said.’ 

You absentmindedly stroked your lips. You took a moment to swear at yourself- urging yourself to stop reading this book, to stop reading Severus’ private feelings, and to stop feeling your own feelings, but you just kept going. 

‘She named one of her plants, “Snargs.” I don’t know why, because it wasn’t even a Snargaluff, but it made me chuckle anyway.’

You smiled at the mention of your plant. Next to the note was a drawing of Snargs, your forever-flowering cactus with the name ‘Snargs’ written in a curly font above the plant. You looked up, seeing Snargs sitting on the high windowsill with his petals dancing in the soft summer breeze. You blew a kiss to him, placing his weekly watering schedule at the back of your mind as you kept reading.

‘She gave me a gift last Christmas. It was a new bag for my books. I saw her staring at the holes in my old bag the month before. The box didn’t have a sender, but I knew it was her. I could smell her perfume on it and it was her handwriting on the note inside.’

Embarrassed, you scratched the inside of your arm. You tried to be sneaky about your gift but it was certainly difficult getting anything past someone as observant as Severus. The two of you didn’t participate in the holiday’s secret santa event, but you could tell he desperately needed a new bag. His previous bag looked a century old, full of holes and nearly falling apart at the seams. His materials constantly fell out of his bag, and you had grown sorrowful every time he had to backtrack with downfallen eyes and a red face to retrieve his dropped items. You knew he didn’t want your pity, and you were afraid if you gave the bag to him in person he’d reject it, so you decided to be as anonymous as possible. You were glad he decided to use it anyway despite knowing where it came from in the end. Smiling, you wondered if he’d accept the gift if it came from anyone else.

Then, for the next few pages shaped like a heart, he had written your name in the margin in his best calligraphy, with pulsing hearts, twinkling stars, blossoming flowers, swimming fish, and tiny sketches of tarot cards. You stared, mesmerized at his magicked art, caressing the moving lines with your fingers. He wrote your names together in a heart, side by side with his. You couldn’t help the smile bubbling onto your curious face as you slowly took in every addition, fiddling with the corner of the dog-eared pages that had been shaped into a heart. You flipped the page, confused--there were tiny hearts drawn around an inky black mass. The mass was a jumble of rough sketch-lines, but they started to move. Your breath caught in your throat as the lines scribbled down on the paper formed an image of you, turning around and smiling. Nothing but astounding brightness was in your features, a direct contrast to the next notes he had written down. 

‘I wonder if she feels the same as I do. She has to, right?’

You just couldn’t answer that question right now. You bit your lip, glancing up at the door as if Severus could burst in at any moment. You sighed, thinking about him as your eyes dropped back to the writing. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stroked the next horrible words beneath your finger, feeling his self-doubt emanating from the paper.

‘But who could ever like someone like me?’

The next note was a long paragraph, but whatever words you could see were smudged and crossed out. Ink had been spilled on top of the page, the black streaks marring the yellowed pages. The corner of the page was brandished with scorch marks. 

~~~~

A/N: Thank you for reading!  These “one-shots” (lol) are from a series called Afterimages of You. Here’s the masterlist for all of the one shots I have posted in the series. a big ol thank you to @thats-mrs-snape-to-you​  @bush-viper-cutie​ and @littl-prince​ for helping me, i love you guys!!

[echonidae]

let’s talk commission stuff!

hey folks !!  so i’ve been reorganizing myself to get commissions back on track, and i’ve got some things i’d like to get your input on, if it isn't too much trouble !! ;v;

it’s a long one, so under the cut it goes sdfghghj

a slightly too long tl;dr because apparently this is a 10min read (i'm so sorry): commission revamp on the works! no date for it yet. gonna be easing myself back with just icons for a while at first (no date for that either thoug, not yet), then the revamp will be in full swing with all the other commission options, and the pricetable for them will be changed in the future as well. 

some questions: 

1) i’m rethinking commission types, is there anything you’d like to see as a new option?  2) considering i tend to open only a handful slots every batch, i'm thinking about implementing a waitlist (with a bit of a twist: it's split between Current Batch and Next Batch; a little more complicated than a regular ol' waitlist, allows me to get through some of the waitlist queue as work gets done). would that interest you or is it too much of a headache? 100% open to suggestions! 3) i’m organizing a board on trello for commission stuffs !! any suggestions or specific things you’d like to see there?

so! it’s already been over a year since i last opened commissions and i’d very much like to get back to them ;o; it’s been way too long! i miss working with you folks aaa

i don’t have a reopening date yet, but i’m planning on opening only icons for a while to ease back into the process. later on, i'll open the other commission options too. you see, i’m working on a full revamp of the whole thing, including the terms of service and that info image with the examples (because looking back, i think it no longer really represents my current style and how i really do commissions in terms of just... plain old rendering and polishing), so i’ll be working on new drawings and a new layout too, and all that good jazz :D

for full disclosure, along with this overhaul of the terms and such, i will be updating prices too c: i’m still working on the new values though, since i need to figure out what commission types/options the overhaul will have. which brings me to the first question here: what would you like to see as a commission option? for reference, here’s the og options:

(hoo i need to redo those examples *sweats*)

also, one more thing i’d like to note about this revamp situation: there isn’t a whole lot that’s changing really haha it’s just been a long, long time since i last did commissions, so i’m reviewing terms and i might change stuff that’s become outdated, or that needs clarification. if you’ve commissioned me before, the process itself is still the same so no worries! once the revamp is out, i’ll point out anything that has changed too c:

in regards to price changes, those first icon-only batches will be in their original price, and the new prices will only take effect once the revamp with the other options is out. it will be quite a while before until that, but if you have any concerns, feel free to message me any time ! either way, i’ll keep you folks posted !! i guess i also could post the new prices before implementing them, if that helps!

so, moving on! now to the waitlist situation <:3c as in, i’ve never had one, a while back someone asked if i did, and now that i’m reorganizing things, i’m wondering if it would be good to implement one :3c feel free to send any questions !! or suggestions!! i'm all ears!!!

usually i only open a handful of slots for each batch, right, and once they're all claimed, the commissions are closed until all the slots are finished. folks who missed the slots have to wait until the next batch, and sometimes those batches take a while to come back, and i usually just message those who missed the opening once the new batch is announced.

what i'm thinking for the waitlist is, i'll open it along with the batch of commissions, and limit it to a specific number of spots or close it by a specific date, whichever comes first. to apply for it, people would just need to send the form and i can tell them immediately whether or not i can draw their request, and then they'll be placed on the waitlist in the order they’ve been accepted c: pretty standard stuff.

here’s the important bit: that list is basically split in two. the first handful of people on the list, corresponding to the amount of slots for the current batch, will be reached out to as i finish working on the claimed slots, and then anyone else on the waitlist will be contacted shortly before the next batch. if, by the time the list closes, not all the opened slots have been claimed, folks on the list will simply be moved up the queue accordingly c: all of it would be discussed individually, of course, and very well disclosed in the commission info!

there are other points to it as well: anyone would be able to request a spot on the next batch's waitlist instead of the current one, and anyone can leave either list at any point. folks who had already claimed a slot when it first opened would only be able to apply for the next batch's waitlist (to give everyone a chance of getting one), and people on the list, either for the current or the next round of commissions, can be skipped up to a limit if they're unable to continue the order once i get to them.

oh and, before i forget, with the waitlist in place, i think i’d no longer be able to put slots on hold as i used to (as in, before paying the first invoice), as it’d be unfair to folks on the list. in that case, the person would be placed on the list as well if they want to, and contacted as soon as possible : )

also the "up to 2 slots per person" thing would be on thin ice too haha

anyway, this is kind of what i intended to do back then, with reopening slots as work gets finished, but never got around to. i want to make sure i don’t swamp myself with work, but also have it so that folks who want slots have a good chance of getting them, whether for the current batch or the next, as there's only so many slots i can open and work on at once, and time zones and irl things are to be considered too for anyone interested c:

it also makes it easier for me to keep track of messaging folks about new slots and such, and the list would be made public and easily available for consulting too : D more on this later!

so how's this looking? i've never done waitlists before and barely knew how they're supposed to work before starting to reorganize things, so please do feel free to voice your thoughts !! i’m 100% open to suggestions !!! do you think this system would work out for you? any concerns? if anything is unclear feel free to point it out, i'll do my best to explain the process or change stuff that doesn't quite work!!

so!!! now to the very last thing i wanted to talk about ! trello! 

i’m making a little trello board for updates on commission stuff! my commission info page here on tumblr and on deviantart both have this little section for updates on each slot’s progress, but i admittedly didn't do a good job keeping them updated (and constantly updating two things in different places just. kinda sucks.), so i’ve been diving into trello to unify that update section in one place and keep things nice and organized and transparent : ) it would be super useful for keeping track of the waitlist too, if that becomes a thing, or for updates on commission status and such!

so far i’m only testing things out, so it’s looking like this right now (sorry for the tiny image!):

(the board is lying btw, commissions are very much closed haha) (also if it’s basically unreadable, here’s the upload on sta.sh)

with all those little lists, the “available slots” and “sketch” and “lineart” and whatnot, i would be moving the card along the process : D and adding the appropriate labels, of course

this way i can have those halfsteps labelled too (working on/halfway through/finishing), since there’s only so many colors i can use without making it confusing (and tbh i’m already not too thrilled about color labels as it is, but it beats typing each individual status, and i’d imagine it’s more readable for folks consulting the list as well)

i really like how this looks so far in terms of organization but i’m unsure if the horizontal scrolling is anything but annoying, specially to folks on mobile (with the way i divide my screen on desktop, it certainly isn’t ideal either), so if you have any experience with that, feel free to let me know your thoughts!! there are a thousand different ways to organize this, and this is all a work in progress too c:

so! anything specific you folks would like to see on trello? i know this is a fairly common tool for commission queues and info and such but i’m super new to this platform, so please feel free to send suggestions! ♥

anyway yeah! that’s it! ;0; !

i’m sorry for the super long post, i’ve just been thinking about a lotta stuff haha i feel like i don’t interact a whole lot as it is, and since commissions are very much a team effort, i do want to get input from you folks on it c: it’s good to get a fresh perspective as well!

thank you so much for reading this far !! let me know your thoughts !!! :D ♥

[justreadingfics]

His Girl (Revamped Version)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You’re perfect. Anyone who could read his thoughts would say he’s cheesy, but he genuinely can’t find a single flaw in you. Well, maybe the only problem is the man by your side.

Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Love Triangle, Pining, Smut, Revamped version of first fic written by the author, 18+.

Word Count: 4k.

A/N: Hi!! I’m sorry to say but this isn’t something entirely new. I’ve been thinking about revamping the first fic I’ve ever wrote for a while now. I love the story, but every time I read the original, it made me cringe for several reasons. I like this version better, but I haven’t sent this to a beta and you all know English isn’t my first nor my everyday language, so you may still find a significant number of cringy stuff, lol. If you read it and like it, don’t hold back on the feedback 😊 I’m tagging my permanent list.

Masterlist link on description.

He pays no mind to the loud beating of the music thundering into his ears, nor to the sea of dancing bodies and cheerful laughs around him as he makes a beeline for the bar. Another one of Tony’s big shindigs, one he can barely remember the reason for, if there ever has been one to start with…

He has lost count of how many he had to attend since he had joined the team. He hates it, of course he does. Everybody knows it… Bucky Barnes hates parties. He hates so many eyes which cross path with his, some condescending, some pitiful, others gleaming with fear… or hatred. He hates them all, but he knows he still deserves them all.  

It has been a slow process after he came back from Wakanda, where Shuri has finally found a treatment for the trigger words and other horrors Hydra had seen fit to grace his mind with. He still struggles… with social events, with talking to people, with letting them in, showing himself… What could they see if they really look?

He hates parties, yeah… but he goes to all of them. For one and only reason. He takes a seat by the bar and, while he waits for the whisky he just ordered, his gaze roams and search through the crowd, looking for the reason he’s there after all…

You.

It’s been like this from the moment he laid his eyes on you. His gaze always searching, seeking you, longing that the sight of you can ease the ache in his chest that comes with the absence of your touch. To be honest, Bucky can’t understand why you have this effect on him,  you two have barely exchanged more than two words and, even if his gaze is always sneakily on you, he shies away whenever you draw near. He rather keep his distance… he needs to.

But he’s completely and utterly infatuated by you. Not like he remembers much of his life, but he’s damn certain he has ever felt this way about anyone. Ever. He can’t stop thinking about how you held his left hand with no sign of hesitance when you two were introduced.  He was so entranced by you that he’s sure he has held on to your touch longer than socially acceptable, and yet you didn’t make a move to let go before he did. He’s obsessed by the way your hips swing from side to side when you walk,  by how you always looks straight into the eyes of whomever you’re talking to, the way your nose crinkles when you laugh and a small and adorable snort comes out of you… yeah, your laugh! The most amazing sound Bucky has ever heard. And there’s always a smile on your lips, for everyone.

Except for him.

Why, after that first time you two met, wouldn't you speak to him again?  Fear… That’s the only possible explanation in Bucky’s mind. Of course you would be frightened by him…The Winter Soldier, the Fist of Hydra, the Assassin… He may be called the White Wolf now, but it doesn’t erase what came before…  

With the whiskey now in his hands, his lips barely touch the glass when he finally spots you.

There you are, his reason, across the room, laughing while Sam says something. At that moment and every other moment, Bucky wishes he could be the lucky bastard who’s able to make you laugh like that. He takes a minute to take in the sight of the woman who he keeps up all night thinking about. You have your hair styled on that way you always have at parties. Bucky knows you choose that style because it’s easier and then you can do your hair yourself, oblivious to the fact that it drives him crazy with want to dive his fingers through your locks and tilt your head so he can ravish your neck with kisses and intake the sweet scent of you…

He gulps as his gaze falls down your body and he notices what you’re wearing that night. A long black dress. The side slit goes high enough to make Bucky’s heart speed up as he takes in the exposed skin of your thigh. The deep V neckline isn’t doing any good to his mental state either…

God, you’re perfect. Anyone who could read his thoughts would say he’s cheesy, but he genuinely can’t find a single flaw in you.

Well, maybe the only problem is the man by your side. Holding your hand the way Bucky only can in his dreams. The lump is thick on his throat at the reality.  

Steve Rogers. Captain America.

His Stevie. Bucky’s best friend and brother, the punk who started a fucking war with the rest of the World to defend him. The one who introduced you to Bucky.

You…

His girl.  

And that’s the reason why, besides the fact he damn sure scares the shit out of you, Bucky would never get to touch you, feel your skin on his. Breathe you in… Taste you…. The reason why he avoids any kind of close contact and is happy to worship your image from a distance. He can’t , by any means, give in to his feelings or get closer to you. He can’t take that chance.

He’s been fighting… against himself. He’s been dating around, trying hard to get you out of his head out of his very soul if he’s going to be honest.  But all he accomplished is to compare every single woman he’s seen with you, and wonder how it would feel if you were the one he was holding, kissing, making love to.

“Jesus, you’re so screwed.”

Drowned in his thoughts Bucky has missed the redhead approaching, martini in her hand, sitting on a stool next to him with a smirk on her lips.

“What are you talking about, Romanoff?” He tries to play the ignorance card, knowing damn well that it would be pointless. The stunning spy is able to read his mind like no other, Steve included. Maybe it’s their shared past, the one they never speak of, but lingers in the air. The ex-assassins simply understand each other.

“Please Barnes, you’re wounding me.”  Natasha rolls her eyes and brings the drink to her lips.  

Bucky bites on his lips before letting out a humorless chuckle, “That obvious, huh?” He says, defeat in his voice and a hint of worry that his secret may not be as hidden as he thought.

“To me, yes”.  She shrugs before spending a moment observing him, while he goes back to watching you across the room, hand in hand with his best friend.  With a sigh, Natasha kindly places her empty hand on the soldier’s shoulder. “Just be careful, Bucky. Neither of you have been much discreet lately. Everyone else is a bit dumb, but I don’t know…”

Bucky snaps his head back to her, as his eyebrows knit close together, spotting the rare sympathetic smile on her tightened lips.

“What do you mean? In what way she’s not being discreet?”  

The empathy on Natasha’s face falls and is swiftly turned into a familiar glare. Letting out a huff, she stands up and turns her back to him, leaving Bucky behind, mumbling words that his enhanced hearing catches as “Stupid Super Soldiers. No Serum in the brains, for sure”.

He’s left confused as he watches Natasha joining the rest of the gang who is now sitting by a round table close to the dance floor. As usual, she takes the chair next to Clint and orders for another drink. Bucky moves his eyes to Steve, who has his back to him, sitting across the Widow, leaning forward to say something to her. She responds by pointing to the bar where Bucky stands.

Steve turns his head to his best friend and whey their gazes meet, the blonde grins and waves, calling Bucky towards the gathered group.

Finding no way to decline the offer, Bucky sighs before he nods and heads to the table that is also accommodating Sam, Wanda and Maria Hill. Getting close, his heart rushes to his throat when notices that the only empty seat is the one next to you, who have your back turned to him.

“Hey Buck, come here and take a seat, the food is amazing,” Steve says with a mouthful, pointing with the fork to the mountain of food in his plate.

The fact that his fellow Super Soldier is the only one eating – the exorbitant amount of food- makes him think of the skinny kid from Brooklyn who could barely finish a whole glass of milk. The memory brings a warm smile to Bucky’s face, which fades as soon as he spots your stiffened shoulders as you glance nervously at the empty seat beside you, still avoiding to look at him.

“Ahm, I don’t know pal, I’m not really that hungry” Bucky replies, brushing the back of his neck. The last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable by imposing his closeness.

“Oh, come on Tin Can, grace us with your broodiness… It’s not like you have somewhere else to go. Or do you already have a broad waiting?” Sam asks, emphasizing the outdated slang in an attempt to tease his centenary friend.

Missing how you take a long sip from your own whiskey, Bucky pretends to be amused by the conversation and makes a face to Sam. He can’t find it in him to prolong the subject or to say no the puppy eyes Steve always wear to break him and never fails, so he pulls out a chair and takes his seat. Right beside you.

Steve goes back to his food and the group goes back to chatting. The words are far from the focus of his attention as it’s so damn easy for him to feel the heat irradiating from your body, so close to him all he has to do is... Bucky’s glad for Sam and his never stopping mouth as no one seems to notice how his whole body flinches when his right thigh ever so lightly brushes against yours under the table. He quickly pulls his leg away, but not before goosebumps spring unbidden across his skin at the brief yet burning touch.

He’s expecting you to move the chair closer to Steve, to prevent any kind of contact with him to happen, but… but instead, she leans back on his touch, seeking the overwhelming sensation again, brushing her leg against his and leaving it there.

All the sound around him fades away, replaced simply by the thundering sound of his beating heart.

Every single inch of him is completely stiffened when he rests his hand on his leg and by the corner of his eyes he sees you furtively doing the same thing. Feeling a rush of boldness and a lack of better judgment, he moves it closer to yours until your pinkies link between your laps. He feels dizzy when you softly caress his finger with yours and all of a sudden, like it’s the most natural thing to do, he has all of his fingers tightly interlocked with yours.

His holding hands with you under the table cloth and it’s so damn hard to breathe now. Bucky’s mind runs in full speed, matching his heart, but yet, for that moment, time seems to freeze and everything’s slow motion as a forbidden, yet beautiful promise takes over his senses.

No… It wasn’t fear the reason why she kept his distance from him… She’s touching him, he has her soft hands on his. And it feels so right…

“Are you ok, Barnes? You’re as pale as a ghost.”

Bucky’s stupor is swiftly interrupted by a familiar voice in the far distance. It’s Natasha, of fucking course.

The unwanted attention makes you quickly remove your hand and back away your leg.

Bucky feels empty.

“Ahm, Yeah I..I guess I need another drink, I’ll be right back” Bucky’s chair screeches against the floor as he stands up and leaves the table, choosing to ignore Natasha’s suspicious look. To his relief the rest of their friends are apparently unfazed and oblivious to anything.

In need of a place to calm his restless state, he heads to the rooftop. Getting out of the elevator, he takes in the fresh air, relishing into the breeze of the night and, watching the city lights, the puzzled events of the last couple of minutes keep running over in his mind.  You touched him… he can still feel the burning where your skin met and he knows that you were as much affected by it as him… What the hell’s happening?

The quietness of the rooftop is broken by the elevator ding behind him. His heart jumps when he turns his head and spots the person coming out of it. He can’t. He can’t hold back a second longer anymore, and without even thinking, he takes two quick steps, closing the distance between you and him to press his lips against yours. As he pulls you to him, you immediately kiss him back, one hand tangling in his lose locks, while the other snakes up his chest.

Without breaking the sloppy and needy kiss, Bucky pins you against the nearest wall. He’s so drunk in your taste, he doesn’t want to let you go…Not again. Not now. He feels the whiskey you’ve been drinking mixed with your Chapstick and something sweet, that he knows it’s all you and he thought he would never get to taste.

Finally…

Both of your arms circle his neck while one hand still holds the back of his hair in a grip. You gasp for air and Bucky takes the chance to ravish your collarbone with a trail of hot kisses, reaching your pulse point to lightly bite on it. You let out a moan and while you tighten  the hold on his locks, Bucky realizes he has never listened to anything as beautiful.

“I need you… Please.” You’re breathless when you whisper the words to his ear, reaching down between your bodies to palm the bulge straining his pants.

If Bucky had a tiny bit of control until then, it is completely lost now with the husky plea coming from your lips.  He captures your mouth once again, and moving quickly, he travels his hand up your exposed leg through the dress slit, burying his fingers under the band of your underwear to find the velvet skin already damp. He lightly brushes the little nub there and the sensation pulls a primal groan from him and a deep sigh from you through the kiss.  

Tangling his tongue into yours, he pulls the black lace material down and when it falls to your knees, you wiggle your legs to let it drop to the floor before you step out of it. Without breaking his lips from yours, Bucky quickly goes to his belt, as you pull the skirt of your dress by the side slid up to your waist. When his erection springs free, Bucky holds your leg up to open you for him and just can’t waste anymore time as he guides his impossibly hard cock to your wet entrance.

It’s almost too much… the sensation of being inside you, so damn close, the velvet heat tightening around him…a kind of intimacy he only dreamed about. You cling to him as he slowly pushes himself further and the air leaves him a sharp exhale when he bottoms out. Only then, your lips detach from his as your breaths come out short.  

Keeping your leg locked around his waist, he uses his metal hand to support himself on the wall, while you maintain a firm grip on his shoulders.  You two exchange gazes for what feels like the first time and for a moment you just stay like that, staring to each other, studying every little inch of each other’s faces… Getting acquainted… Body and soul, Bucky suspects, as something entirely new and powerful grows inside him. A sense of calm, of peace, of belonging…

When he starts to move, he goes slow at first, allowing you two to adjust to the overwhelming sensation. You fell so damn good around him, better than any day and night dream he ever had, he realizes, as his flesh hand leave your leg, secured around his waist, to pull down the shoulder straps of your dress. One, then the other, dropping down your arms and exposing your breasts to him.

Beautiful, so damn beautiful, it makes him breathless…

He watches as your eyes close and your lips part a little, whimpering in sheer ecstasy, when he grabs one of your breasts into his hand, never stopping the slow and deep move of his hips. He gently massages the soft flesh, and can’t take his eyes off your face as the slight shift of expressions in synch with his actions shows how much pleasure he’s giving to you.

“Oh, Bucky…”

Hearing the whisper of his name in your mouth, especially in such a sinful way, makes his heart melt and his cock twitch inside of you.  His thrusts grow faster and the two of you become a mess of heavy breaths and moans. Bodies glued together, your skin is hot against his and your breathe tingles over his neck. It’s perfect. And it feels so right, so damn right, when your pussy clenches around him…

He needs to feel it again and the frenzy you both share boosts when Bucky’s flesh fingers meet your clit.  He circles the nub in fast, harsh circles as you tighten your leg around him for support.  A slight change in the angle and the extra stimulation makes you let out a scream of pure ecstasy. He feels it coming as your cunt grips his cock in the most delicious way.

Your whole body shakes against him as you let out a wanton moan, signaling your climax. As you fall apart, Bucky’s fingers leave your heat to hold you tightly by your waist. He  knows he isn't going to last much longer, he just can’t, even if he wants to have you like this forever, breathless in the pleasure he’s provided you with while he can feel your heart thunders against your chest and your tongue brushing over the skin of his neck.

“I need to taste you,” you breathe and it startles him for a second when you push at his chest, forcing him to pull out of your pulsing heat.

His mind goes blank when you sink to your knees and grip the base of his cock, coated in your arousal, and your mouth wraps around the throbbing tip. He watches down in awe, supporting himself with both arms on the wall. Your soft lips around his cock makes him lose his fucking senses and a few bobs of your head is already too much for him to handle.

“I.. I’m … gonna…. ”, Bucky tries to warn you, only making you grab his ass and clutch his hips still, not letting him pull away from you.

He groans loudly and can’t hold back anymore before you take everything he has to offer, not missing a single drop of the most powerful orgasm he ever had.

Struggling to breathe and gather his thoughts again, Bucky offers his hand to help you get on your feet and pulls you in a tight embrace as his forehead leans against yours, sharing the blissful state.

He loves you.

If he didn’t know that before, it’s pretty damn clear now. He loves you and this love will ruin him. Of that he’s sure, while he holds your half naked body to his.

When breathing  isnt’t so hard anymore, you’re the first one to speak.

“I love Steve… I really do.”

Bucky’s eyes close and he sighs at the mention of his friend’s name.

“Yeah, I know, I love that punk too,” he responds matter-of-factly in a sad smile.

“You must think I´m a-” A sob breaks through your lips before you have the chance to continue.

“Shhh,” He whispers as he cups your face and uses his thumb to caress your cheek and wipe the tears falling down. “Never,” he assures you, shaking his head, “I would never think anything like that of you.”

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” you add, pleading for him to believe, and Bucky hates to hear the sorrow in your beautiful voice.

“I know sweetheart, I know…” He tries to sooth you, even if his own heart is breaking at how ashamed you seem to be of what just happened, prompting his own guilt to tighten his throat.

“I don't want to hurt him,” You add. “But you…” The whisper is low as you lean your face against the touch of his hand, shutting your eyes.  “God, I can’t take you of my mind ever since I first saw you, not matter how hard I tried. I’ve been going crazy,” You breathe hard as your eyes open and you look up at him, gripping hard the back of his suit with your hands.

Bucky’s heart beats harshly against his ribcage at your confession. “I know the feeling,” he says in the steadiest voice he can manage, keeping the brush of his thumb on your cheeks. “All I think about is you, all the time.” He almost can’t believe he’s actually telling you this, “I-I´m in-”

You don’t let him finish when you abruptly part from him, ceasing any kind of touch. The pained expression in your face is nothing but a plea, one that begs him: “please don’t say it”.

He doesn’t. He sulks in a breath and doesn’t say he’s completely and desperately in love with you and it feels so right even if he knows how damn wrong it is.

You bite on your lips and a heavy silence falls upon you as you fix your dress and hair, allowing him to put himself together, too. Your head drops, before you lean down and take your underwear from the floor.  

“This can’t … won’t happen again,” You manage to make your words convincing, standing up in front of him as your jaw clenches, holding the small piece of black lace tightly in your hand.

Bucky shuts his eyes and nods. He knew this was coming, but the fact does nothing to ease the pain of hearing those words.

When he feels your grip on his chin, his eye pop open. You two stare at each other for a long moment, sharing the words, the ones forbidden to be said out loud, before you lock your lips together again.  

As he pulls you to him, he focuses on every move, every touch, every sensation. Your tongue brushing against his, how he can feel himself and you through the sweet taste of your mouth, your skin, the shallow breaths and small whimpers, your hand into his hair… He clings to all of it. Memorizing how you feel, holding the sensations into his mind… his heart.

Bucky feels your hand slipping inside a pocket on his pants before you break the kiss and, without looking at him again, you run past him towards the elevator.

He sighs, bringing his fingers to his lips, as if this way he would make the phantom of your touch last longer… His gaze turns to the city lights when he hears the elevator going down and he places his hands inside his pockets.

His lips turn up in a longing smile, already missing the touch of yours, while his fingers play absent-mindedly with the piece of lace he finds inside his pocket.

He knows it would all come eventually, the sorrow, the guilt, the heartache. The pain. But at that moment, all he feels is you…

You….

His girl.

~~~~~~

The end. 

[lochrannn]

AU-gust: Walk a mile in my red boots

Read on AO3

No warnings

prompt no 8: Character Swap

Characters: Lila Pitts, Diego Hargreeves, Five Hargreeves

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

-

“Five, I have to find him! I just don’t understand why you can’t see that!” Lila throws her hands up in the air, exasperation with her oldest brother hitting a boiling point.

She’s been having this argument for days now.

After they returned to 2019, to an empty mansion, no mom, no Pogo, they had spent a good few days talking about what they had experienced and how they would go on. It didn’t take too long for them to split up, though. Allison wanted to get to LA as quickly as possible to see Claire and Vanya decided to travel with her. Having left Sissy back in Dallas and learning about how her life had been leading up to her causing multiple apocalypses had been tough on her, and she said she needed some time to re-evaluate where her life should go.

Lila isn’t ready to let go of her experiences back in Dallas yet, though. She feels like it’s her responsibility to find Diego and see if he’s ok.

“Lila, he’s a lunatic who manipulated you and tried to kill our siblings. Really, really wants me dead! Why are you so desperate to go after him? What are you going to do if he tries to hurt you? You know there’s not that much you can do if we're not there for you to copy our powers. And Diego’s a highly trained assassin!” Five is trying to be understanding, but Lila can tell by the way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet that he’s going to try any tactic he can to dissuade her.

“God, Five, why don’t you get it? You told me all about the loneliness you experienced in the apocalypse. Diego’s just lost everything. Everything he believed in has been taken away from him, I can’t imagine a place more lonely than that, except for the apocalypse, maybe. And I know he’s dangerous, but I don’t believe he’ll hurt me. And wouldn’t you rather know where he is and what he’s up to than have to wonder whether he might not come back to finish the job?” Lila knows that’s a low blow but she’s desperate. She can’t quite put into words why she feels so strongly that she has to find him, she just knows that she does.

“I’d like to see him try,” Five mumbles off to the side, but Lila can see that she’s slowly getting through to him.

It’s not like she needs his permission. She helped the little gerbil from the Commission, she’s sure she can wangle a favor out of him, she doesn’t need Five. But after everything they’ve been through, she’d much rather he was on her side on this one.

There’s a tense moment between them and then Five lets go of a long breath and nods once and Lila smiles broadly at her brother.

Before leaving the kitchen she ruffles his hair and earns herself a pretty hard slap to the hand in return.

-

In the end it’s not hard to find him.

Of course Herb has been keeping tabs on him. Not only is Diego a rogue Commission agent now, but the new interim head of the board is genuinely sympathetic towards the catastrophic loss Diego’s experienced and when Lila makes contact with Herb, he presses a pre-programmed briefcase into her hands and wishes her good luck.

-

Lila studies the sign outside the cantina. Her Spanish is a little rusty but she’s quite certain that it says no women are allowed inside.

Well, fuck that.

Usually she’s not too concerned about local customs, different strokes for different folks and all that. And it’s not like she’s traveled, really, outside of missions with the Umbrella Academy when they were children. But this sign can fuck right off. She hasn’t come all this way to find Diego to be turned away by outdated gender norms.

So she walks in holding her head up high and instantly draws everybody’s attention.

But all she can focus on is the figure that scrambles in a blur to what seems to be the back of the large room with its wooden ceilings.

He’s out of sight before she can even start running, but in her pursuit she swipes a knife off of a table and flings it out of the back door before she sprints through it herself.

She hasn’t had any real opportunity to practice using this power as she only found out Diego had it when he had repelled Vanya’s attack and had toyed with Five by whizzing a knife fractions of inches away from his head when they were fighting in the barn. At least that’s how Five tells it.

Well, Lila decides to simply wing it. Intuition has always served her quite well in copying her siblings’ powers, so why not now?

And at the same time as she bolts out the back door, she hears the sound of a knife imbedding itself in a clay wall and a loud yelp.

She turns to the noise and there he is, knife pinning his jacket to the wall, a line of blood welling up along the tear in the material - oops - and he has her leveled with a deadly glare. But he doesn’t move, just stares her down.

“Gotcha!” Lila says, trying to ease the tension between them, she thinks she deserves at least a bit of co-operation from him, seeing as she de-escalated the fight between Diego and Five back in Sissy’s barn. With her words no less!

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Diego spits out at her, his expression still murderous, but he also still hasn’t moved, so Lila continues approaching slowly while she says, “Oh you know, I’ve been jonesing for a bit of a holiday so I thought to myself ‘Where’s that bastard who played and manipulated me while I was at one of the lowest points of my life? Would really like to know what he’s up to these days.’”

For a second something almost a bit like guilt flashes across Diego’s face, but then his scowl deepens and he doesn’t say anything, nor does he make a move.

So Lila chances it and steps up to him, only to regret that the second he pulls the knife pinning him out of the wall, launches himself at her, slams her back against the wall and presses the knife to her throat.

Shit, she may have misjudged this. Maybe snark wasn’t the right choice after all.

There was a time when she thought he was quite charmed by her sharp tongue, but right now she remembers that she can’t actually be too sure about anything concerning Diego. However, there’s a feeling deep down inside of her that still believes that he won’t actually hurt her, but maybe Five is right and she’s just desperately naive.

Diego is towering over her breathing heavily, not from exertion, but clearly from rage.

“Why the fuck are you here, Lila? Is that little murderer you call a brother with you? Cause he can see what he gets for hunting me down!” he snarls.

Entirely out of options Lila decides the only way forward is with the truth. “Five’s not here. I came alone.” Oh you idiot, the voice in her head that sounds a little too much like Five chimes in. “Came to make sure you were ok,” she says, staring up at him imploringly.

That’s clearly not what he expected as she can feel his forearm twitch where he has it pressed to her collarbone and his grip on the knife at her throat falters for a second.

“Why?” he whispers. For the first time she feels like there might be a tiny bit of uncertainty in his voice.

“Cause you’re all alone, Diego, and I made you a promise and I’m not sure you really heard me… you know, the whole family thing?” Lila had made an impassioned speech back at the barn, but even though every word had been completely sincere, she feels a little awkward about the whole thing now.

A nasty grin stretches across Diego’s lips and he sneers, “I don’t believe for a second that all of your siblings feel the same way. Doubt they’ve forgotten about how I tried to kill them. Came pretty close, as well! And what the fuck makes you think I’d even want to be part of your family, anyway?”

He’s leaning against her heavily now and Lila knows he’s trying to intimidate her, but if he wanted to hurt her he would have already done so. Clearly he’s not actually willing to just leave this conversation either.

“They’ll get over themselves,” she says with as casual a shrug as she can manage with a knife to her throat, “and I care about you, Diego, the same way I think you care about me. And I don’t believe you actually want to be alone. But beyond that, it’s up to you.”

At her words she sees something crumble behind his eyes and suddenly they seem to fill with unshed tears. “Jesus, Lila, I drugged you and took you to the Commission against your will. You’re fucking crazy to be anywhere near me!”

“Yeah you did. And maybe I am. But what can you do?” Lila just says gently.

Apparently that’s how easy it is. Diego closes his eyes, presumably to stop the tears from falling, tips forward, and knocks his forehead against hers.

Then the knife is gone and Lila uses the opportunity to wrap her arms around him and he melts into her hug.

And while they stand there, Lila with her back against the wall, slightly struggling to hold a sobbing Diego upright, she rubs soothing circles into his back and whispers into his ear, “It’s gonna be alright! We can make it alright, I promise!”

[rudysrings]

Adapt or Die (Prologue)

A/N: This is a new series I’m trying out. If it’s a go then yay! If not--Well, I’ll let it fade away into nothingness then, I guess... :(

Summary/Blurb Here

SO, the main character/reader was essentially inspired by Darwin from the Marvel comics/X-men. However, I will be adapting (HAHA adapting, get it? That was totally by accident I swear) the abilities and back story to fit what I’m writing; so, die-hard Darwin fans, please know I’m not trying to misportray (is that even a word? Eh, I don’t care. I think y’all know what I mean) the original character, but I simply wanted to draw from the bomb-ass root idea of what he can do. 

For those of you who don’t know who Darwin is, here’s a quick blurb from Wikipedia on what his abilities are:

Darwin has the power of "reactive evolution"; i.e., his body automatically adapts to any situation or environment he is placed in, allowing him to survive possibly anything; the exact nature and limits of his powers have not been revealed.

Examples of his powers include: gaining night-vision after a few seconds in the dark; functional gills after being submerged in water; fire-proof skin after being exposed to flame; increasing his own intelligence; converting his body into pure energy; no longer requiring oxygen after being sucked into space; morphing into a sponge when shot at with a weapon designed to destroy the subject's nervous system; and acquiring comprehension of the Shi'ar language merely by looking at written samples. His power may concern itself with more efficient methods of survival than Darwin himself might choose; for example, instead of continually increasing Darwin's powers when taking punishment from the Hulk, his body simply teleported him away from the fight.

His power can also work when dealing with non-immediately-life-threatening situations, such as rendering it impossible for Darwin to get drunk by allowing his body to process alcohol faster than humans would normally.

It’s pretty fucking cool, right? Let me know what you think. By the way, this part is pretty short because it’s the prologue, but I expect the other parts to be longer. 

Oh! I almost forgot: the reader is desi :) Thanks to @parkerpeter24​, who wrote an awesome Peter Parker imagine here for Holi, I felt inspired to post this WIP. 

I realize that makes the writing not truly an all-inclusive one, but I thought it would be cool to bring this aspect in. Obviously, you don’t have to be desi to read it and the whole thing won’t be about being desi. Just a little background I felt like adding to the character. If you absolutely hate it... then maybe don’t read it? :) please and thank you.

Anyways! Sorry for the rambling. Enjoy and thanks for reading if you’re still here <3

Warnings: There’s for sure going to be some swearing in this series :) Also, It’s gonna be a little steamy ;-; But it’s not revolved around smut and probably won’t be all that graphic. Probably. No promises O.O Only implied sexual happenings and for once, no swear words in this part.

Words: .957 k

ON WITH IT:

You blink your eyes against the startling light that is pouring through the thin curtains. Surprised that it’s morning, you sit up quickly, looking to your side to see no one there.

Ok, so that’s two surprises in the first ten seconds of the day. We’re off to a great start today, Y/N.

You sigh, brushing your hands through your unruly turquoise hair and swinging your legs out of the bed. You slip on your jeans and look around for your shirt. The black lacy thing you had worn the night before is laying over a lamp and you quickly shuffle over to it. Your eyes flick down to the nightstand and see a flip phone. Confused, you pick it up, opening it to see a single message from a private number.

We’ll be in touch.

Your stomach drops and you hastily pull your shirt over your head and clear the hotel room. Your better judgement tells you to get rid of the phone. Toss it in a river. Run over it. Throw it into a passing car.

For some reason, against that better judgement, you tuck it into your pocket and check out of the hotel.

You remember the previous night perfectly; the alcohol that had done absolutely nothing to dull your acute senses.

                                                                ~

You slam the shot back down on the bar counter, not even wrinkling your nose at the sharp taste of tequila that should have burned your throat.

The bartender gives you a look of obvious judgement. Next thing you know, he’s asking for your keys.

“I don’t have ’em. I walked here,” you lie.

“Wasn’t that you on the motorcycle?” There’s a smooth voice behind you and you turn to see a woman with fiery hair and an enticing smile.

“No.” You reply shortly.

She shrugs. “Hmm. I could have sworn…You know,k I always did have a thing for a woman on a motorcycle.”

She approaches the bar beside you and asks the bartender for some sort of fruity concoction.

She has an accent. Italian, maybe. It’s obviously fake. She’s doing a helluva good job of over-enunciating every single word an Italian would. However, no Italian who’s lived in London for more than a week would continue to cling to those pronunciations. So, you decide she’s either a tourist or a spy.

When you smell metal—vibranium—on her, but don’t see it, given it’s probably hidden underneath her tight-fitting clothes, you decide it’s the latter.

“Do you ride?” You asked her.

“Motorcycles? Nah. I just hang on to the one riding,” She flirts.

You finger the rim of your drink. You can hear someone speaking to her through her earpiece.

“You got her, Natasha. Close in.”

“Y/N.” You stick your hand out, unafraid.

Natasha takes it immediately, giving you a firm shake and lingering on your ring a little too long.

“Sienna.”

You can’t help but giggle out loud. Wow. She had to choose the most cliché Italian name to ever exist. You covered your outburst with a cough. “Beautiful,” you complimented her fake name.

“Classic.” She shrugged. “So, what’s a gal like you doing in a bar like this?” She asked, gesturing to how run down the area was. The bartender gave her an incredulous look, but even he probably knew the kind of reputation the place had. You had to admit that it was unkempt and clearly not maintained--not to mention the types of sleazes that seemed to frequent it.

“I could ask you the same.”

“Deflect,” said the voice in the earpiece. You furrowed your brows slightly; you could usually judge by the timbre of the voice what a person’s age was, but this one stumped you. The inflections were outdated for sure, but the man spoke like velvet, far too young to be using that old-time Brooklyn accent.

“You first,” Natasha pushed.

Shrugging, you replied, “It’s more low-key, don’t you think? Wouldn’t want to run into anyone I know when I’m clearly trying to escape the real world right now.”

The bartender slid over her drink in a cocktail glass and Natasha took hold of it, taking a sip and staining the edge of the glass a deep burgundy. “And what exactly has the real world done this time?” She asked.

You smacked your lips thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s more about what the real world hasn’t done this time. Or maybe about what it did the other time.”

“Oh,” Natasha said simply.

“Can you get her somewhere alone, Nat?” The wannabe 40s Brooklyn man in the ear piece asked.

You smiled, showing your teeth. “How would you feel about helping me escape the real world a little bit more, Sienna?”

She moved closer, brushing your elbow. “Y/N, are you suggesting we get out of here?”

You were a couple of inches taller than her and you leaned over, close enough that locks of your ocean hair brushed her forehead. “What I’m suggesting is that I know a hotel with nice sheets not too far from here.”

Natasha smirked. “Nice work, Romanoff.” 

Romanoff? Sounds more Russian than Italian, you thought.

                                                               ~

It wasn’t the first time that somebody had attempted to con you, be it for information or for money. You didn’t mind the game. So, you let it happen. Undeniably, you enjoyed the spy’s touch and the numbing feel of her pillowy lips on yours. 

However, you did not expect to fall asleep. That had never happened before. Your body didn’t do that. Your body never failed to do something that would strengthen you. You had never, not once, fallen asleep in the presence of another.

That scared you.

You had been careless.

You straightened your shoulders as you walked out onto the streets of Southwest London. No big deal, you just had to be a bit more careful now.

я иду за тобой Natasha Romanoff.

A/N: я иду за тобой = I’m coming for you (Russian) 

(I used google translate, which is probably wrong; so, if anyone catches a mistake in that, please let me know, and I will change it :) )

*PSST*: Isn’t Natasha so fucking stunning in that picture on my sucky ass moodboard? Those eyes? That barely there smile? I’m melting. 

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 33 – Nice to See You at Last, You Rat

“Lady Lunark...?”

The voice could not be softer, but the werewolf warrior jerked as if she were touched by fire.

In turn, she caused an almost identical motion in the young warrior who addressed her.

“Uh... Your order, please...”

She turned her head, doing a terrible job of hiding that she is dreadfully keen on her leader’s mood.

Lunark directed her eyes towards the two rookie warriors, who were just as conscious of her as they stared in waiting.

They happened to be standing in one of Union’s facilities, officially dubbed as “dispository.”

Based on the Union dictionary, “disposal” comes with a definition different from its counterpart in the civilian world.

The process of disposing something does exist, but irredeemable, permanent disposal is a highly rare case in Union.

Because it is Union belief that even the most useless, outdated file or source could one day shine in the future.

For this reason, every file or source deemed “to be disposed of” follows two steps: (1) its online copies are deleted, and (2) it is duplicated into physical, hard-copy format to be disposed-slashed-stored.

And this is when a dispository comes in handy.

Although she was once an elder of the Union, Lunark could not remember the last time she was at a dispository.

She was back to her main task: discovering and shutting down Union’s facilities, especially those that were in possession of Crombell.

She remembered how she could only suck her thumb as she came across one facility after another already shut down by someone else.

However, for once she landed upon a facility with its doors locked, not sealed for good.

Which is why the three young warriors assigned for today’s mission seemed clueless about what to do.

“First we must get rid of all evidence that could hint our presence. Judging by the location and the order of shutdown for each of the facilities we ran upon, the rat who had been ahead of us all this time will be here. So let’s get ready for our guest.”

The warriors immediately got busy, and so Lunark was given time to get engrossed in her thoughts.

Her reasons were hammering her head that she should not let herself get distracted when she is outside for business, but her head was beyond her control.

She could not help but recall once again the conversation she had prior to this trip.

*****

In spite of the invasion by Union’s weapons against noble heads of clans and failure in initial activation of QuadraNet, werewolves regained peace.

Or rather, they could shake off the confusion, which unfortunately did not apply to everybody.

For instance, a certain werewolf who ended up thwacking her human crush’s lips with hers was still very far from peace.

The problem was that she had to make it so obvious that something was bothering her, and wherever she went she made the occupants tiptoe with nervousness.

In the end, Muzaka summoned her in privacy for a talk.

“Are you really planning to zip your mouth for good?”

“...I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, my lord.”

“Playing pretend, are we? Well, I should’ve known, based on your atmosphere for the past few days.”

Her eyes were sore, and her tongue was tied. However, her head had never been nimbler.

‘What do I do? Did he notice that I’ve feelings for Frankenstein?’

Lunark was aware that Muzaka does not take kindly the relationship between human and wolfkind. She would not be surprised to find out that he was outright opposed to the idea.

And she would rather make herself Maduke’s stepdaughter than to have Muzaka look into what lies in her heart.

Plus, she knew Muzaka would rather give Maduke a peck on his face than to offer his blessing for her and Frankenstein.

“Is it because of Frankenstein?”

And just like that, Lunark started to wonder if she should start calling the dead werewolf daddy.

Muzaka smirked at how Lunark’s face turned stony.

“Honestly, it’s not that hard to guess. There were only a very few changes in our land lately. Union’s invasion. That blondie’s visit. And trouble with the QuadraNet. But since that blondie happened to have gone around the time you changed, anybody would be able to guess he did something to you. So, is it because of him?”

Despite knowing that silence is definitely not the remedy right now, Lunark could not utter a sound.

Muzaka, on the other hand, was quite unfazed by her silence, which made her question whether she should take it as a good sign.

“I’m sorry, but I say no.”

Muzaka yielded what Lunark had been predicting from him all this time, although the fact that she saw this coming did not stop her mind from crumbling to pieces, to the very bottom of her stupefied body.

“I know I don’t get to play a vote in your relationship. And it’s not like I have power to officially ban you from a relationship. But if I dare give an advice, I do not think this is recommended, Lunark. And I’m sure you know why I can’t say yes. Racial difference serves as no bars in love. I truly loved Eileen, and Ashleen was a gift like no other. To me, they were my entire world.”

Lunark could feel her heart throb as she watched how Muzaka spoke of their names without the slightest flinch.

She could not imagine how many rakes in heart and how much the magnitude of pain he would have gone through until his own family’s names turned mellifluous upon his lips.

Which is why on the other hand, she felt guilty as hell. She actually made Muzaka bring out his deceased family.

“However, our story did not meet a happy ending. Yes, there were bastards that intentionally set fire upon our path. But it does not change the fact that our story is a masquerade of blood, tears, and death.”

Muzaka’s voice remained as placid as it was, but Lunark could not even dare make a face that she wanted to comfort him.

“And as far as I know, I am the starting point of our kind’s taboo regarding relationship with humans. It’s been alive ever since my first era of reign. And I do not wish to see you suffer even little by eyes and ears against relationship with humans.”

“My lord...”

This time Lunark spoke; she did not want to keep her mouth relieved of its duty for the rest of their meeting.

Nonetheless, she could not manufacture any sound afterwards.

“And I have a practical reason as well. As you’d know, Frankenstein is in no situation to get involved in a relationship. Let’s be frank here – and I’m not trying to accuse you – you don’t think you can strike up a good relationship with him at this moment, do you?”

Lunark’s chest seized even harder; this time Muzaka sounded much more legitimate.

“And it looks to me that your feelings are already taking effect upon you. Need I remind you, you’re a warrior – the most influential one, next only to Garda. You should know that you have tons of work allocated to you, and I believe you’re smart enough not to make yourself a hindrance in our kind’s pathway due to unrequited love. However, should you make yourself a hindrance because of your feelings, I must take proper measure as your lord.” 

Muzaka sounded strict, stern, pulling down Lunark’s head even further towards the ground.

Lunark even felt dizzy because his words were as veritable and unbreakable as they could be.

The only reply she could produce was a confirmation, a gratitude, and a promise to be careful.

Her reply was halfhearted, but he would anticipate her to stay true to her words.

And she knew that. She knew that awfully well.

*****

Now that she returned to her field work, she could see that Muzaka was right.

She happened to be agonizing over her feelings at the very scene where she is supposed to get bustling.

She virtually scolded, slapped, and slammed her head to knock it off. She recognized the problem, and she wanted to fix it.

Alas, an elephant is bound to dance in one’s head the more they try not to think of it.

‘Frankenstein... What would you tell me if you figure out what’s with me?’

Would he poke fun at her with that oh-so-impish face, making a condescending show of how he did not expect her to fall for him?

Or would he snap at her that he will have none of her feelings whatsoever?

Lunark could only roll her eyes in her shoes, hopelessly tied to her heart racing to the far end away from her head. That was when the new warriors returned to her.

“Lady Lunark...”

“We just finished the job.”

“Now what should we do?”

Lunark barely managed to hide her wince and answered them.

“Now let us wait. Brace yourselves, all of you. It could take us hours, days, or weeks until we get what we want. But we are not leaving empty-handed. This time we will catch that rat still going about and nipping away what should be our duty.”

Lunark regained her stance as a senior warrior, tall and proud and authoritative.

The new warriors, overwhelmed by her posture, bowed their heads in mixture of anxiety and motivation.

“Now, positions, everybody. You know what to do.”

The three werewolves sang “understood” in synchronization before they jumped into the air, and Lunark followed suit, sneaking into the corner of the dispository that provides the best view of the entire space.

She wished, however, that they would get to stay as long as possible.

She knew that there is no good in taking so long until they could leave.

Yet she wanted to return as late as possible; otherwise she would get to meet Frankenstein again rather too soon.

Lunark grit her teeth in the lowest volume she could pull off, feeling how her lips would boil with heat every time she thought of him.

Sadly for her, it turned out that Lady Luck was certainly not on her side for the day.

She could hear clicks of heels, drawing nearer and growing bigger every second.

In reaction, her muscles tensed with automatic alertness.

After she waited to make out the profile of someone who had been ruining werewolves’ tasks all this time, she got to stare at and scan from head to toe the said someone.

Then suddenly, the visitor’s head violently rotated to a corner of the dispository, and Lunark’s eyes enlarged as she reminded herself who happened to be hiding there.

Bam! Came a thundering noise and a groan of pain.

“What are you? Who do you think you are to spy on me? Well, doesn’t matter. I don’t know how you found me in this place, but you saw my face. Which means you just earned yourself a death sentence.”

Clenching the least competent warrior in the room by the throat, the unknown figure sliced the air with her other hand.

Thud!

Dust and wind were whipped up one more time, along with the impact from Lunark’s feet, when she jumped in just in time to stop a potential carnage.

“And who do you think you are to lay that filthy paw of yours on our warrior? I hope you’re ready for your consequence.”

The woman’s eyes twitched, in clear recognition of the former 5th Elder.

“Nice to see you at last, you rat. You might wanna call your parents right now; you won’t be going home tonight.”

As Lunark bickered, Helga did not even cringe, instead squinting her eyes in a way her eyeballs would bulge out with hostility.

(next chapter)

At last, Muzaka noticed lol. And at last, Lunark found Helga. I may be the writer, but I feel kind of bad for throwing Lunark into two troubles at once. I really wish I can write something fluffy for her very soon! By the way, “dispository” is my creation for this fic. There is a reason why I came up with this facility; however, I will save the reason why for later, for as of now it could serve as a spoiler. Please stay tuned to find out why!

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 33: “I love that about you.”

Lance and Keith have separate 'moments' in regards to each other as the Frost Ball kicks off

Also, if you want you know what Keith's chirps sound like, check out this video. Be warned, it's CUTE!

First  Previous  Next

Lance skids to a halt on the wrong side of the side doors. “Okay! Fires are out, crises are averted, Adam, I need a high five.”

What he really needs is a hug, but Lance knows Adam would rather die that indicate he feels things other than glee at the suffering of others.

The attendant adjusts his glasses, lifts a hand. Lance claps their palms together, grinning.

“Excellent high five, your Majesty.”

“Shiro,” Lance whispers, hovering in the hallway. The captain raises an eyebrow. “I need you to keep an eye out for any suspicious characters. There’s been one assassination attempt on myself and my husband; I don’t want another. Keep Adam close. He is at your disposal and will follow your orders.”

“Thank you, your Majesty.” The mountain of a Galra glances to the Altean, who bows respectfully.

“Adam, if anything happens, come find me immediately. If it’s an emergency, handle it at once and send for me as soon as possible.”

“Yes, your Majesty. Now, the doors are opening for presentation in five doboshes. Go. ” Adam shoves him toward the door. “And for the love of the Ancients don’t flirt with anything. Except your husband.”

“Thanks, Adam! Love you too!” Lance bursts through the side door as his friend groans in disgust.

Lance all but runs for his throne, taking his seat next to his father. The gold hanging from his clothes chimes as he moves. His face feels heavy from the paint under and around his eyes and on his lips. It had taken more than a few doboshes to hide the shadows under his eyes, but eventually Adam and Vetroneius managed to make him look refreshed and awake.

Refreshed and awake Lance is not. He’s exhausted. One of his current responsibilities is to write and change legislation to be enacted on the first thaw. A lot of laws are outdated, contradictory, or just plain useless, and it’s Lance’s job to change them. It’s vargas upon vargas of mind-numbing work that he’ll be doing long after the thaw. There's no way to get it all done in time, but he wants to at least make a dent in it.

Then, upon hearing that he’d invited Lotor, Alfor had placed him in charge of finishing the arrangements for the ball. It was an important opportunity for him, a sign of trust that Alfor rarely ever afforded him. It was also petty, but that was pretty normal. At any rate, he couldn’t say no. So here he was, barely on time, thoroughly drained, and stressed beyond belief.

"Hey, beloved."

A small hand slips into his, applies sweet pressure. “Are you okay?”

“Everything’s fine. I took care of it. Just a few minor disasters in the kitchen, barracks, courtyard, and cloakroom,” Lance promises, pressing a kiss to his spouse’s cheek. “How are you?”

Keith visibly swallows an anxious chirp. “F- Fine. I’m fine.”

“It’ll be alright. The first varga or two is just being introduced to new court members. Basically, it means they’re of age to-”

“-be traded as breeding stock for their families' material gain?”

“...Essentially, yes. We just sit here and look untouchably beautiful. Then we eat small amounts of food every varga or so while going around talking to people. And we have to dance a few times, of course.”

“Okay.” Keith’s fingers tighten in his. A chirp slips out, sets his ears trembling with embarrassment. Lance is only just catching on to exactly how much Keith hates crowds. He hates them a lot. He'd probably rather spend an evening alone with Alfor then be here.

“So you have a little table with food in the corner away from everybody else for when you get sick of these idiots. I will retrieve you when my father starts giving me pointed looks. Right, father?”

“Indeed. Prince Yorak, I do expect you to socialize, at least with Prince Lotor and Princess Allura. It is necessary for appearances.” Alfor’s eyes scan the room, searching for something. “Lancel, please keep an eye out for anyone you don’t recognize.”

“Of course, father. I’ll have some idea of who might be out of place once I make the rounds, but thus far I have seen nothing out of the usual.”

“Should we expect anything unusual, or are we being paranoid?” Keith murmurs.

“Always proceed on the side of caution,” Alfor whispers. On the king’s other side, Coran groans, rolling his entire head back. Lance bites his lip against a laugh.

“Don’t worry,” Lance whispers, leaning to Keith’s ear. “Nothing's going to happen, it’s one night, and then you won’t have to worry about any of it until next winter-”

“Or until your first child is born,” Alfor murmurs.

“Oh, excellent, a party is exactly what I’ll want after laboring for vargas to push a child out of my vagina.” Keith's scowl is magnificent, ears flicking back tight against his scalp, teeth glinting in the warm lighting Lance set up for the event.

Lance leans over, laughs into Keith’s shoulder, rests his head there. “Relax. Everything will be fine.”

“I know, but I-”

“Boys. Enough now. The doors are opening.” Alfor straightens in his seat.

Lance sighs and lifts his forehead from Keith’s shoulder. He takes a moment to admire his spouse. Despite his visible discomfort, Keith looks exceptionally beautiful, with gold thread resewn into his hair, braided over his shoulder. His clothes are fine too, the white side paneling filling him out, giving him a stouter frame Lance imagines Keith likes. He has the natural poise to dress like royalty and look like it. Lance reaches up to fix Keith's bangs, and the kit leans into the contact just a touch.

“It’ll be alright, beloved. If you need me, come find me. And if we need to disappear for a few moments, the court will invent a filthy excuse for us. We'll have Lanval do it. He's exceptionally talented.”

Keith dredges up a smile. “Thanks.”

Lance nods, turns to face the doors. As youth after youth steps forward to introduce themselves to the rest of the court, he keeps ahold of Keith’s hand. The Galra prince brightens when Lady Gloriana is presented by her mother. The lady beams at the princes, the golden scales gleaming, pale pink hair woven on top of her head, crystals glittering in an elegant arrangement.

Keith leans over. “I should find her and Lord Lanval later to say hello.”

“We'll go together.” The princes nod in agreement, turn back to ceremony.

By the time presentations are over, Keith’s muscles are stiff and tight and he wants to stretch his arms above his head. Lance doesn’t stretch at all, his movement lackluster with exhaustion, inactivity, but he hides his discomfort well. Keith keeps hold of his hand as they descend the dais.

Lance raises his free hand, gradually gaining the court’s attention. “Before we begin, I want to thank you all for coming. This is a celebration of everything we have accomplished in the last decaphoeb. We have built new lives, brought children into the world, started families. We extended the hand of friendship to our closest neighbors, replacing milophoebs of war with a new era of peace and prosperity.

“The last decaphoeb has been huge for me, personally. Between getting married-” Lance raises their joined hands, kissing Keith’s fingers. The blue and gold paint on his lips doesn’t budge a spot as the jewels and gold in his ears twinkle in the light. “-and taking over municipal duties, I could say it has been the most important of my life thus far. I thank you all for sharing in this journey with me. It’s been difficult, but each and every one of you has made this time a little easier.

“Thank you for sharing this past decaphoeb with me. I look forward to everything we will accomplish with the next one. But for tonight, let us celebrate in each other’s company. I will surely celebrate in yours.”

The throng of courtiers applauds, smiles from ear-to-pointed-ear. Keith smiles too, edges closer to his spouse. It’s that humility again, the thing Keith loves most. The prince is vain to be sure -he spends way too long on his skin and hair-, but he reaches out to his people so gently, draws them in. He lifts up the people around him, lets them feel included, like they’re valuable, like they belong.

Keith loves that. He loves it so much.

Music picks up from the orchestra in a corner of the massive room. The courtiers disperse, finding friends within the crowd, food, drink. Lance tugs Keith over to a corner where a small table has indeed been set up for him. “How are you?”

“As well as can be expected for someone who hates crowds more than they hate being in excruciating pain.” Keith smiles. “I liked your speech.”

“Really? Are you lying? Was it terrible? It was terrible wasn’t it! Oh, my parents are going to kill me-”

Keith leans over, rubs their cheeks together -careful to go with Lance’s scales-, presses their brows together. “Relax. You did wonderfully. I’m sure they’re impressed. I am.”

“Hm. It takes a lot to impress Prince Yorak, or so I’m told..” Lance’s blue-and-pink eyes sparkle with mirth, inches from his.

“Not a whole lot. Just you.”

“Well I think-" Lance blinks. "Wait, what?”

Keith looks far too satisfied with himself as he draws away, a sly smirk glittering in his dark eyes. “You always impress me, Lance. And all of this is impressive.”

Lance takes a steadying breath, eyes finding the werelights hovering above them like stars, crystals glittering where they dangle from the ceiling like drops of frost. There are fountains of wine, tables of food. The people are smiling, dancing to the music.

Everything is fine. All his hard work is paying off. Keith’s just put an arm around his waist, tucked his head under his chin with a soft purr.

“You’re… cuddly,” Lance mutters, wrapping his arms around his spouse. “Have you been drinking or something?”

“No, not yet. I just-” Keith sighs, pulls back. “Nevermind.”

“Hey, beloved,” Lance grumbles, tugging on the end of Keith’s braid.

The Galra prince sighs. "We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

“Really?” Lance knows for a fact his spouse would rather be anywhere else. What he doesn’t know is what’s prompted him to suddenly become so affectionate. But his willingness to set this aside seems to do something for Keith, because the young prince snuggles up to him again.

“Yes. I- I intend to do that, actually.”

“Very well, then.” Lance rubs a circle into Keith’s back, listens to him purr, makes a split-tick decision. “I need to speak with you, as well.” Lance sighs, squeezes Keith tight, lets his arms fall. “But right now, we have duties.”

“We always do,” Keith mumbles, stepping back. He grabs an oblong fruit and eats it quickly. “Oh, we need to dance. Ladies Renli and Seran are looking at us like they might come over and 'chat'."

Lance grins, takes his spouse’s hand. He can’t help but smile at the determined glint in Keith’s eye. Keith throws himself into everything, even when he hates it.

Lance loves that. He loves that so much.

[mysticmelove]

Jumin week- day 3:

Soulmate AU

(Slight NSFW under the cut)

.

Soulmates: an outdated, superficial idea in Jumin’s opinion. Love, itself, also fell along those lines as well. It was all a concept that people relied all too heavily on. Though, you couldn’t blame him for thinking that; growing up with his father was bound to leave him with negative connotations of ‘love’ and what it meant to have a soulmate. His father had spent the better part of his life searching for that perfect woman, yet he knew better to follow in those footsteps.

That being said, Jumin’s soulmate made it almost impossible for him to ignore who they may be. It would have been nice to ignore their existence but they were always this constant tiny presence to his daily life. He was thankful that they weren’t the reckless type of person- they had no serious markings that would plague his own skin, like those horrific tattoos he’d seen a few people sport- but they drew on their skin incessantly. They were either very forgetful or the artistic type in Jumin’s opinion, but either way there were always smudges of ink on his hand.

He’d dealt with it for years, probably the best part of twenty if he was being honest. The small but prominent black blotches on the backs of his hands; obvious words to his other half but no more than unappealing marks to him. It looked awfully unprofessional and in the first few years he’d make desperate attempts to scrub off the ink, yet they were all far fetched attempts and he soon gave in. They were just a part of his life. Though that’s not to say he didn’t with they’d just use a diary to remember things. Still, the ink had its few upsides. On occasion, they’d draw more detailed, intricate designs, stretching the length of their forearm and hand. They were still unsightly from a professional stand point, but they’d bring him a change of scenery every now and then. Their designs were easier to make out than the odd words and they’d even inspired him every now and then, the true details lost to him but the beauty behind them apparent.

Jumin was ok with all of this. His soulmate was someone who he could ignore in the most sense and their minor presence bothered him less with each passing day. That was until they threw a curve ball his way. A tattoo. Small and delicate, yet a tattoo none the less. It just appeared there one day, the outline of a daffodil on the side of his rib cage, with the words ‘Forever, my love’ written carefully underneath. He was outraged, to say the least. The last thing he wanted was to be permanently marked by ink on someone else’s accord. That was the first time and the last time he ever tried to contact them, a single scribble of his pen marring his hand before he cleaned it off with haste. Who?

Flash forward a few years and his so called soulmate was something of the long past. He’d found love. True love. Soulmate or not MC was his other half, he completed her like no one else possibly could. She was everything he could have asked for, without even knowing he needed it, and the only link he had to that other person was the ink staining the skin under his arm.

Their relationship moved slowly, giving Jumin the time to explore everything he never understood. Their love was passionate, caring, gentle, so many words he couldn’t possibly voice. All he could possibly want was to hold her in his hands, encapture every essence of her and just be with the person he loved.

It was their first time that solidified everything for Jumin, much more than he had expected it to. Things suddenly made so much sense as he found himself almost dumbfounded by the feeling which overwhelmed his entire being. He’d never held something with such care as he did with her, her hair spread out across pillows around her and her cheeks ever so slightly flushed. MC leant up on her elbows, kissing at his lips tenderly with a pure hum. “I love you,” she whispered lowly, here eyes scanning the length of his body before her.

Jumin couldn’t seem to draw his gaze from her reddened lips, his hand carefully shifting the hair from her face and behind her ear. His voice was tender, as caring as his actions, as he spoke: “Are you sure this is what you want, my love?”

“More than anything,” MC assured him, threading a hand through the short, black strands of his hair and planting her lips upon his once more.

With passion, Jumin welcomes the kiss, his hands coaxing her to sit up and come ever closer to him. Her legs were straddled either side of his thighs, her hands tracing over the outlines of his chest through his shirt. The two only stopped to breath, Jumin grasping at the hem of her sweater before pulling it up over her head with ease. Their lips were together in another instant, both parties too wanting and needing of the other’s touch and love.

He tried his best to take things slowly, savour every moment like he had with their relationship, yet he just couldn’t hold back. His fingers ran over her skin gently, his touch barely tickling the surface of her skin, as he mapped out every inch available to him. Eventually, his hands wandered to her back, fiddling with the lace material hugging all the way around her chest. He broke the kiss, his darkened gaze locked on to her shining irises. “May I?” MC nodded in response to his baritone voice, her cheeks flushed and seemingly glowing in the dim light. It didn’t take him long to undo the clasp, the fabric becoming loose from her chest before Jumin discarded it in silence. His gaze only left her own for a few seconds, basking in the sight of the new found flesh as he smirked. With his eyes locked on to her’s again, he ran his hands up her bare sides, guiding her to lay amongst the quilts once more. He kissed her brashly, “You’re so beautiful.”

MC snickered at his comment, her eyes drifting to the side as Jumin sought out to make her his and his only. His hands traced the map of her skin once again, his view following along to make a visual of the supple flesh. The room was silent, apart from the occasional humming from the man above her as he admired the sight before him. He’d slowed down now, his movements more refined and delicate against her skin that felt almost paper thin in his hands. “Beautiful...” he mumbled under his breath as his hands trailed back down his sides.

The feeling was bliss against her skin, until he’d come to a sudden halt. She looked to him and then where his eyes seemed to be locked on to on the side of her chest. “What’s wrong? Jumin?”

His hand drew away from her slowly, his figure not moving. “What’s this?”

MC sat up, looking to where his hand had traced. “Oh...” she fumbled with the words in her mouth: “It’s... it’s not a soulmate tattoo if... if that’s what you’re worried about.” She attempted to cover her chest, the passion of the situation seeming to die down and her embarrassment growing.

“No.” Jumin pulled her arm away, getting a better look at the ink etched into her skin. “I’d never really realised how stunning and elegant it was...”

“What?” Her eyebrows furrowed, watching in utter silence as he began to strip off his own shirt before her. He placed the top down on the bed beside them, turning slightly until the side of his chest was also on display. MC found herself in awe, unsure of where she should have been looking; the impossibility that was a mirror image of her own tattoo, or the softened features on his face. Hesitantly, she held out a hand to him, tracing over the petals on the flower intricately laced into his skin. “It... can’t be...”

“You don’t have to say it twice,” Jumin’s voice had changed from that of when they started, so much softer and caring, “Tell me, what it means.”

“Oh...” her eyes fell to the sheets, “They were my mother’s favourites... Those were the last words she spoke to me.” He was quick to comfort her, threading a hand through her hair and cupping her cheek- ready to apologise for hitting a soft spot. However, she was quicker to stop him, smiling to herself, “Don’t be sorry; I’ve come to terms with it. It was fitting really. It was the first time you’d ever written back to me.” MC rested into his touch, the silence filling them once more.

Jumin brought her closer, wrapping her arms around her smaller figure and smiling to himself in what seemed like the first time in years. “Forever.”

[marshmallow-phd]

Innocent Intentions

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Tao x Reader

Summary: There was one thing you couldn’t stand in all your years at college: playboys. And the campus was riddled with them. So when Tao - a player with a particularly well-known reputation - inserts himself into your life, you come up with a plan to get rid of him, whether he makes your heart race or not. But the more he’s the around, the more you just might find there’s a hidden layer underneath all the rumors, including a secret you never could have guessed….

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I Final

**

You woke up sweating. It wasn’t the kind that soaked your pillowcase, but it was enough to dot your forehead and upper lip, making you slightly uncomfortable. A weight laid across your hips. It held you in place so you couldn’t move from the spot you were curled up in. Letting out a groan, you pressed your face into the pillow. You didn’t want to get up no matter how overheated you were getting.

A light pressure drifted across your face, tickling your skin and making you smile.

Finally, you opened your eyes, just by the smallest of fractions. Tao was beaming at you, his features the softest you’d ever witnessed them. And that was saying a lot since his whole face seemed to melt whenever he looked at you. It was odd and not something that you were used to. You didn’t even realize that it was possible, for someone’s face to conform like that. It made your heart flutter.

It was only then that you realized part of the reason you felt like you were in a sauna was because you and Tao were under the thick comforter. Warmth radiated off of Tao like a human space heater and you couldn’t take it anymore. You threw the comforter off both of you, giving you some fresh air to breathe.

“What’s wrong,” Tao frowned as you both sat up.

You pointed to your perspiring face. “I was dying under there.” Curious, you reached out and place the back of your hand against his forehead. It was warm to the point of concern. “Are you sick?”

Playfully laughing, Tao lowered your hand. “No. I just run warmer than most.”

“Why do people say that like its normal?” No one “runs a little warm”. Every human body ran at exactly ninety-eight-point-six degrees. If your internal temp was higher or lower than that, something was severely wrong.

“Well, if I’m sick, then you should take care of me.” Tackling you, Tao took you both back down onto the bed, trapping you in his arms and holding you close to him so you had no escape.

You were happy for his playful spirit to be back in full swing, but dwelling on that took your mind to the reason he was here in the first place. “Tao?”

“Hm?” He was barely paying attention to your voice, focusing more on burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Are you better now? You know, with what happened to your brother?”

You felt the way every muscle in him stiffened in a second. He didn’t open his eyes too look at you, instead keeping them closed as he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

“It still hurts,” he whispered. His voice was so low you could almost sworn you were making it up in your head if you didn’t feel the wisps of his breath against your arm.

There was a long pause, the silence weighing down the air in the room. It was moments like this that you truly didn’t know what to do. You wanted to comfort him, but you weren’t sure of the best way to do that. Slowly, you began to reach out towards him to maybe pat his head or stroke his cheek, you weren’t really sure. But as soon as his eyes opened up, you dropped your hand back down, your heart leaping from the startle.

“I feel better with you, though,” Tao confessed. He lifted his head so his chin was now poking into your shoulder, but you didn’t dare move to a more comfortable position. “I always feel better with you.”

You were just stunned at the heartfelt admission. None of his words were sugar-coated or flourished. You’d heard enough from him by now to be able to tell the difference when he was being truly sincere.

What did you ever do to have this person drop into your life like this? In the beginning, you thought you were being punished, but the more you were able to get to know Tao, the more your viewpoint changed from punishment to gift that you didn’t feel like you deserved. It didn’t matter how much you snapped at him or tried to push him away, he came back to you like a boomerang you tried to throw away. And even when he got upset or acted in a way that normally would make you sever ties completely, you still accepted him back with open arms.

There was some sort of pull he had over you that couldn’t be explained. It grew stronger every time you saw him and you didn’t even bother to fight it anymore. Perhaps it was a little crazy, but you felt like Tao was the missing piece you’d been absentmindedly searching for your whole life. It was always there in the back of your mind, the longing for someone… not to complete you, but to be there. To be there when you were upset or had good news to share. To be your anchor when you felt like the world around you was falling apart. If you’d been allowed to pick this person out of a line up on your own, you would have skipped right over him. Funny how the universe could be, wasn’t it?

“Come on,” you patted his arm as you sat up. “Why don’t I make you some breakfast?” That was how you knew how to comfort. Make him something to eat. What was that popular phrase? The quickest way to a man’s heart was through his stomach? A very outdated term and one you would never speak out loud – not to mention you were no five-star chef – but food was a comfort, no matter who you were.

Tao’s face morphed into an expression of fear. He gulped. “What about your parents?”

You laughed. “They’re gone for the weekend. It’s their anniversary so they went away for a short vacation. They won’t be back until Tuesday night.”

Something shined in Tao’s eyes, making your stomach summersault. You ignored it, though, pretending to remain unaware as you slipped out of bed. You said nothing else as you left your bedroom. Behind you, you could hear Tao scrambling to untangle himself from the sheets and follow you down the stairs.

You paid him no attention as you took out the eggs from the fridge and heated up the pan, slicking it up with butter to make clean up a little easier. All the focus was on preparing the food. The only words you spoke to Tao were to ask him to put bread in the toaster and pour a couple glasses of juice to wash breakfast down with. After you’d plated the finished product and sat down at the table, the two of you ate in silence, just enjoying the unrushed quality time together. Your parents definitely wouldn’t be thrilled if they knew about Tao spending the night, but you figured that was a bridge you would cross if you ever actually came to it.

When the plates were clear of food once again, you took the dishes over to the sink and began rinsing the off. Tao came up behind you and encased his arms around your waist.

“I feel like I should be doing that,” he chuckled in your ear.

Deciding the dishes could wait, you put down the sponge in your hand, drying your fingers before turning around to face him. “It’s fine. You’re a guest here anyway. It wouldn’t be right for you to clean up my mess.”

“Guest or not, you shouldn’t have to do everything yourself.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m a perfectly capable human being, Tao.”

He brought his hand up to your face to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “Yes, you are.”

Rolling your eyes, you wiggled out of his embrace and headed for the living room. You sat down on the couch, going about your normal Saturday morning routine. But before you could turn the TV on, Tao fell down beside you and shuffled you over into his lap. He didn’t respond to your weak protest, just going back to gently stroking your face as he stared down at you.

If there was ever a more perfect moment to finally kiss him, this was it. So, you waited, thinking that he would lean in first, like he had in the past. But he didn’t move. He just kept staring at you with those dark brown eyes as if trying to study your features for a future drawing. Your patience was wearing thin the longer the two of you just sat there. Why wasn’t he kissing you? Your eyes kept flickering down to his lips and your breathing was becoming shallower as your heart sped up. Were you not giving off the right signals? Was something being lost in translation?

Taking initiative was not your usual strong suit, but in this case, a strange determination egged on by a newfound bravery was building up inside. You were going to have to take what you wanted.

With slightly shaking fingers, you reached up and took ahold of the collar of Tao’s shirt. He looked startled at your sudden move, but you didn’t give him time to process it fully before you pressed your lips to his. The bravery you’d gathered quickly dissipated and you pulled back, your face feeling as warm as Tao’s had earlier. Clearing your throat, you released his shirt and even tried to lean back, but Tao’s arms prevented you from doing so. His shocked face didn’t do anything to help your nerves. Should you not have done that?

That worry soon melted away, however, as that signature smirk grew on his lips once more. Taking you by surprise, Tao pushed you down all the way into the couch cushions, leaving you no room for escape. Then he dived in for more.

By instinct, you followed his every move, wrapping your legs around his waist while your arms did the same around his neck to bring him as close to you as possible. With his variating pressure and little nips at your bottom lip here and there, this boy knew exactly what he was doing. And in the past that might have bothered you – in fact, his many escapades had indeed made you very insecure, but no thoughts of that nature came to you now. Because he was yours. From now on, he would only kiss you like this, hold you like this. Why you had ever resisted this connection, you’ll never know, but you were going to cling to him with a fierceness that no one could match.

One of Tao’s hands slid down from your hip to your thigh, squeezing it gently before pulling you in even closer. You didn’t even know how that was possible, the two of you were already molding into one.

You pulled by only the tiniest of fractions to get a fresh, lung-filling breath before continuing the kiss, but Tao apparently decided that was enough.

“(y/n)?”

Your lungs were working so hard to catch up and restore the lost oxygen supply that it took you a few breaths to answer. “Yes?”

Tao swallowed visibly. You’d never seen him so timid, so unsure before. “Can I- can I stay with you again tonight?”

The laugh that came out of you couldn’t be helped. You definitely hadn’t thought that far ahead and if you had, you figured he’d want to go check on his brother. “If that’s what you want,” you told him.

“No,” he tapped the end of your nose with a giggle of his own. “Only if you want me to.”

You chewed on the bottom of your lip, weighing your options. Not that there too many cons to this situation. More uninterrupted time with Tao sounded like heaven. You could get to know him more without worrying about a certain someone catching you. Right now was definitely not the time to accidentally reveal your relationship to your best friend yet. You weren’t sure when or how that conversation would take place, but you knew - now that things were getting even more serious - you would need to have it soon.

But you’d push that aside once again. That didn’t need to be immediately addressed. It could be put off another day.  

“I would like you to stay.”

Tao loved that answer, pulling you back in to continue the kiss, deeper this time and much more heated. You weren’t even sure how long the kiss lasted. You just wanted to keep going. Your heart was racing the whole time and you could feel Tao’s own beating through his shirt. They were in perfect sync and that just solidified your resolve even more.

**

Tao didn’t want to move from this spot. You were still fast asleep in the bed next to him, face smooth and content, while he was wide awake, enjoying every second he was able to just take in your features.

The weekend had simultaneously been one of the worst and the best of his life. Having a brother attacked by a faceless hunter to the point where he almost died was enough to cause him physical agony. But you let him stay with you, here in your bed where you comforted him and reassured him that it would be alright, even though you didn’t have the slightest clue as to what had happened. He never wanted to leave your side. The wolf egged him on, rambling about how easy it would be to steal you away to the farmhouse. You’d love it out there, surrounded by trees and nature, far from the noise and crowdedness of the city.

Sighing, Tao sat up, letting the sheet fall down into his lap as he ran a hand over his face. No, he couldn’t just snatch you up and run for the hills. It had to be your choice. And he wouldn’t be surprised if you took the same route as a majority of the mates, preferring to stay within the city limits, close to your family and the school. Besides, he still shared a room with Sehun and there was nowhere else for the youngest wolf to go. At least until the second house was finished and they weren’t supposed to break ground on that for another week or so.

Maybe he was getting ahead of himself. Scratch that. He was getting ahead of himself. You didn’t even know about wolves and mates yet. And he didn’t quite know how to go about telling you. That wasn’t something you just casually slipped into a conversation. Maybe he should ask Kris for some advice.

Tao snorted, a little too loudly. He watched you for a second to make sure he didn’t wake you up. The sun was just barely beginning to peek over the horizon outside and the two of you had stayed up talking much later into the night than he had intended; you needed your sleep.

Once he confirmed that you were still drifting away in dreamland, Tao turned back to his thoughts.

He really probably shouldn’t ask Kris for advice. His own situation with his mate had been a rollercoaster nightmare. Tao hadn’t liked Evie at first, because of it. But all he’d known was that she’d rejected Kris and that Kris was at risk of dying. Once he got the whole story, however, he was quick to apologize. This whole mate thing was much more complicated than he’d ever imagined. The fact that most of them grew up thinking that werewolves and monsters were just scary stories didn’t help.

There was one person, however, that Tao felt comfortable and confident enough to ask, though. He just hoped they were up for the talk.

Laying back down, Tao pretended to get a little more sleep until you were ready to get up for the day. He tried to act normal as you made breakfast for him once again down in the kitchen.

Never did he think he would actually enjoy the little domestic moments like this. He’d always scoffed at their simplicity, but now he understood the magic in these kinds of scenes. Whenever the others tried to explain it to him, he just couldn’t grasp how they could be in awe of such mundane events. But now he understood. Now he truly appreciated the finer moments in life like this. Spending time together in the kitchen wasn’t complicated or heated. He could just watch you without worry, take in your smile and memorize your laugh. The way the sun shined around you, creating this angelic glow just made you even more beautiful in his eyes. He was so lost in his thoughts that – while he could see that you were moving closer to him – his brain didn’t register that you were done cooking and were putting the plates down on the kitchen island for the two of you to enjoy.

“Tao?” You waved a hand in front of his face, making him jump back into the present.

Blinking several times, Tao looked up at you. “Yeah?”

You laughed at him, making smile. “What were you thinking about so hard?”

“You,” he answered honestly.

Pink dust exploded across your cheeks. You said nothing as you sat down, keeping your face hidden as you started on your meal.

This time when you were done, he helped you with the cleanup, drying the dishes and putting them away (with lots of direction from you since he had no clue what went where). After putting away the now shining pan, Tao leaned up against the counter, arms folded over his chest, and kept his gaze steady on you.

“What?” You looked down, inspecting yourself to try and find what he was staring at.

He motioned to you. “Come here.” You obliged, slowly making your way towards him until you were close enough for him to pull you in the rest of the way. He kissed you softly, drinking you in like his life depended on it. When he finally gave you back your breath, he whispered, “Thank you.”

You tilted your head to the side, confused. “For what?”

“For letting me do that whenever I want now,” he replied cheekily. You gave him a playful punch to the shoulder, just making him laugh harder.

For a while, he just held you as you laid your head against his chest. He rested his own cheek against your hair, the strands tickling at his nose. Your scent was now his favorite; a mix of a floral shampoo, pencil lead, and something else that was just undeniably unique to you alone. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t stay in this moment forever.

“I have to get back home,” he told you softly, immediately wishing he’d given himself a few more minutes before making that statement. In response, you buried your face in his chest, your own little form of protest. He patted your head, his heart aching from the thought of leaving you. He’d been able to spend over twenty-four hours straight with you and he hated the fact that he was the one ending it. “I need to go check on my brother.”

The excuse was more to get him moving than for you. Minseok had ten other wolves to look after him, not to mention Jiyeon and the other mates. The farmhouse would probably be much gloomier than here, but he still had to go.  

You blew a raspberry out of your lips before taking a step back. “Okay,” you sighed. “I understand. But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

You nodded and headed out of the kitchen to the laundry room where you’d washed his clothes the night before. Tao was feeling a bit uncomfortable considering all he was wearing was a pair of your father’s sweatpants, but you insisted he’d never know. Still, a sense of relief washed over him when you came back with his familiar shirt and jeans. He kissed your cheek before heading off to change privately, for your sake. The image of your embarrassed face when he’d taken his shirt off in front of you before bed last night would forever be burned into his memory.

You saw Tao to the door, a pout sported clearly on your lips. Unable to resist, Tao kissed it away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised.

“Okay.” You placed your hand on the doorknob, but couldn’t bring yourself to turn it. This wasn’t goodbye forever and yet it felt like it for both of you. With sparkling eyes you looked up at him and smiled. “You know, I used to think that you were no good. But now… I know that’s exactly what you are: good.”

Tao let out a short, unbelieving laugh. Good? Could he really be described in that light? Sure, while he hadn’t killed anyone, he wasn’t an angel, either. But if you saw him that way, then there must be some redeeming qualities about him.

“You made me this way,” he confessed.

You shook your head. “I don’t think I’m that special.”

“You are the most special person in my life.”

All these words that were leaving your mouths felt so heavy and intimate, especially in a moment like this, but they needed to be said. You needed to know what you were to him.

“Alright there, tiger,” you chuckled, opening the door for him. “You should probably get going before you start spewing more nonsense.”

“You started it,” he reminded you. Stealing one last kiss, Tao made himself walk out that front door before he changed his mind. He heard the click the door behind him. Don’t look back, he ordered to himself. If he did, he’d be climbing up in your window again.

There was a spring in his step as he made his way down the driveway and to his car that was parked right outside your house. He hadn’t bothered to park down the block this time, his only thought that night being to get to you as quickly as possible. Twirling his keys in his hand, he jumped behind the driver’s seat and took off down the road.

Back at the farmhouse, most his brothers and his mates seemed to be around, discussing mundane things to occupy their time. Kun’s pack was there as well, stuffing the already full house even more. He caught a glimpse of Lyn sitting on the couch with Lanie. The two of them seemed to be getting along given the friendly nature of their body language. Tao only spared them one glance before heading up the stairs.

Just as he reached the second floor, Junmyeon, Kris, and Kun came out of Junmyeon’s bedroom.

“Is he okay?” Tao asked as soon as they realized he was there. When he’d called Jongdae last night, he’d been told that Minseok was on the mend and just needed more rest. He wasn’t even in as much pain as they’d predicted, probably due to the wolf’s tolerance being even higher than most.  

“He’s doing just fine,” Junmyeon reassured him with a smile. The expressions on all their faces told him that they’d just been discussing something serious.

Tao frowned. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Kris ordered. “You’ll know in time, along with everyone else.”

That answer made Tao want growl at him, but he wasn’t in the elite alpha club and therefore had to wait for answers like the others. As much as he hated to admit it, Tao actually missed the days when it was just the three of them. Kris, Luhan, and him. At least then, Kris just told them everything outright instead of this “due time” bullshit. But being back here meant more than that so he’d just have to learn to deal with it.

Junmyeon motioned to Minseok’s door with his head. “You can go see him. Just a warning though: Jiyeon’s in there with him.”

Oh, goody. Tao doubted the oldest mate was going to be her normal chipper self right now.

The three alphas passed by and headed down the stairs, leaving Tao alone in the hallway. At first, he was excited to see Minseok, but now… well, he kind of wished you were here for him to cower behind while entering the bedroom.

As soon as the door was open and Tao began to stick his head inside, a pillow came flying at his face. Barely in time to avoid being hit, Tao ducked back out into the hallway.

“Jiyeon, did you really have to do that?”

At least Minseok was awake. And not the one who threw the pillow at him.

“Yes. It made me feel better.”

“But I didn’t do anything!” Tao whined as he risked entering the room a second time.

Jiyeon’s scowl eased slightly when she caught sight of him. “Oh, sorry, Tao. I thought maybe you were Junmyeon or Kris again.”

“I think you’ve gotten your point across with them,” Minseok mumbled. He was sitting up in the bed, leaning back against the headboard with a mountain of pillows behind him, which was a good sign. There was still a slight pained-look in his eye, but he was doing his best to cover it up. Turning to Tao, he managed a smile. “Where have you been? I think you’re the only one who hasn’t come to see me yet.”

“I, uh,” Tao scratched the back of his head, feeling just a tad bit guilty. “I was with (y/n).”

“Ah.” Minseok nodded in understanding.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.” Tao’s eyes flickered to Jiyeon for a second in a subtle attempt to ask for privacy.

Minseok seemed to get the message. “Jiyeon, can you get me a glass of water?”

His mate frowned. “You have one right there on the nightstand.” Minseok stared at her pointedly until she got the message. Rolling her eyes, Jiyeon headed for the hallway. “You know, you can just ask to talk to him alone. It’s not that hard.”

Minseok just laughed as she shut the door behind her. “So, what’s going on?”

Tao took the now empty seat by the bed, leaning forward on his elbows as he tried to articulate his worries. “I just… need some advice.”

“And you came to me? Wow.” Minseok grinned widely, truly appreciative to be thought of in that way. “Don’t you usually go to Kris for this sort of thing?”

“I do, but I didn’t think he’d have the best advice for what I need,” Tao admitted.

Minseok snickered until he winced in pain. “Ow. I should probably not do that.” After adjusting his position to something a little more comfortable, he said, “Okay. What’s going on?”

“I don’t….” Tao cleared his throat. He didn’t even know how to voice what he needed help with. It was a simple question, but he felt ridiculous asking it, because he was sure he already knew the answer. “I don’t know how to tell her everything.”

“You mean about us and being your mate?”

Tao nodded. “I mean, how do you even start that conversation? When do you start it?”

“There is no right answer,” Minseok shrugged. “We’ve all kind of done it a different way, some were forced into it, others had really crappy timing. Just make sure the two of you are alone and explain everything slowly, giving her one thing at a time.”

Leaning back in his chair, Tao gave out a huff. “That’s not exactly the magical answer I was hoping for.”

“Nothing about having a mate is easy.”

Yeah. That was a phrase Tao had heard a lot around here lately. Even after the truth came out and the couple was living happily ever after, it still didn’t get any easier. The mate’s instincts were still human based, still needing their space and independence while the wolf struggled to fight being by their side twenty-four-seven.

“When do you think I should tell her?” Tao asked, wanting to keep his mind on the present and not your possible future.

“That’s up to you,” Minseok replied annoyingly. “But if you’re already asking about telling her, than that might be a good sign.”

Well, at least that was somewhat of an answer. And Tao agreed with it. If he was beginning to agonize over it, then that was clear sign of where the two of you were in your relationship and it was only fair for him to tell you before going any further. You needed to know the truth, reason you were so special to him. And he had the perfect opportunity in front of him. Your parents weren’t supposed to be back until Tuesday, giving Tao time to tonight to prepare and then he could come over tomorrow and talk to you. His stomach was already churning with nervousness, but this was something he had to do. And who knows? Maybe he’d get lucky and you’d take him being a wolf fairly well.

He could hope, anyway.

“By the way,” Minseok smirked. “How’s Kris’ eye?”

Tao cocked his head to the side. “Kris’ eye? What are you talking about?” Then it dawned on him. “Please tell me Jiyeon punched him in the face.” Served him right for not telling her about Minseok getting hurt right away. Nothing was scarier than an angry mate.

Minseok shook his head. “No.”

“Oh.” Tao slumped in his chair, disappointed.

“She threw her cell phone at him and told him to see if it worked.”

Tao fell out of his chair, unable to control the laughter erupting from his lungs.

**

Tao waited anxiously in the courtyard for you. He’d made sure to get to the university early enough to not miss your arrival. Leaned up against a tree near the water fountain in the middle, he checked his watch every five seconds. Typically, you were at school a good half hour before class to give yourself time to go over your homework. Such a responsible student. But as the time ticked past that half hour mark and you still were nowhere to be seen, he began to worry.

Had you gotten sick again?

“Tao!”

He perked up at the sound of his name, but immediately deflated when he saw that it was Kendall stomping towards him. Pushing off the tree, he raised an eyebrow at the girl who hadn’t spoken to him since their date. He thought at first that maybe she was passing a message on to him for you, but then Tao remembered that you’d told him over the weekend that Kendall didn’t know about the two of you quite yet and you were worried about telling her. Tao had reassured you that if she was your friend, everything would be fine, but you insisted you weren’t ready yet.

“What’s up?” Tao asked.

Kendall scoffed. “You are such an asshole, you know that?”

What the hell? Tao looked around as if evidence of him being pranked would jump out at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Listen,” she hissed. “I knew what you were in the beginning. But my best friend? Are you insane?”

“Kendall,” Tao groaned. “Can you actually explain what you’re talking about, please?” He was simultaneously trying to be nice and keep an eye out for you.

“Don’t play dumb!” she snapped. “I saw you leave (y/n)’s house early yesterday morning! And don’t give me some lame excuse like homework, I saw you kiss her.”

Tao’s jaw dropped. The two of you were so busted.

[petertheparker]

Runaways [one shot]

Requested by @wolkenlichtblitz

Summary: Could you do a Peter Parker imagine with 16 and 27 You ran away from home and you bump into May and she took you to their apartment and gave you clothes and stuff and then Peter comes home and sees you (you both are in love with each other but don't know it)?

16 "is that my shirt?"

27 "Why'd you take so long?"

"GO TO FUCKING HELL"

You couldn't stand another moment in that apartment with her. That God awful woman. You gripped harder on your bag strap, practically bolting out of the door while slamming it back into the door frame.

That's it, that was the last straw.

The crisp air attack your exposed skin as you walked along the sidewalk. You could feel angry tears start to well up in your eyes but you let them fall. Hot, salty drops dripped onto the pavement. You felt like screaming. You wanted to scream until your voice turned horse or until your lungs gave out. Either one was okay with you.

You didn't even know where you were going. The only thing you wanted to do was to get as far away from her as possible. Stephanie. Your step mom. More like step monster.

Fights between you to become a regular. Every opportunity she got she'd knit pick at you. You're wearing that? Fix yourself. Sit up straight. What would your father think if he saw you actinglike this! I'm the adult, you're the child. Don't talk back! You're an embarrassment

It was as if someone lit your blood on fire, you couldn't take her abuse any longer. You needed to leave that toxic environment before you did something you'd regret.

Stopping at a cross walk, you finally took in your surroundings. Absorbing the New York weather,taking in the cloudy morning and accessing the people around you. You catch a reflecting from a window nearby.

I look fucking awful.

The cool breeze sent your hair into a slight frenzy ruining whatever hairstyle you had it in, your crying caused your face to flush and eyes to puff up. Not to mention how your nose was running. How attractive.

But that didn't really matter right now. All that you could concentrate on was the pure rage that coursed through your body, the absolute furiousness you felt.

You gripped your hands until you felt them bleed, you clenched your jaw until your teeth screamed at you to stop. You wanted her to feel your pain and hopelessly. The lonelness God, you wanted your dad back. So so bad.

The waterworks started again, and this time you couldn't stop it. All the suppressed feelings resurfaced. The angry, sadness. Everything. It felt like the whole world had stopped and it was just you and the endless void of tears.

"Y/N?"

A quiet voice filled with concern brought you back to reality. You're face to care with Mrs. Parker. Peters aunt.

". . .May?" You hated that your voice cracked.

She was carrying grocery bags and holding an umbrella. It started to Rain and apparently you didn't feel a thing.

"Are you okay hun?" Her soft voice made you want to cry even more.

"No, not really" you wrapped your arms around yourself. Suddenly feeling cold.

"Come on honey, let's go back to my place."

And with that, there you were. Sitting at the Parkers couch. It wasn't like you haven't been here before, it just this was a different circumstance so it was a bit intimidating. On the walk to her apartment, you completely fell apart into May's arms. Telling her everything. You never felt so vulnerable. But it felt nice to finally get everything off your chest. This heavy feeling on your shoulders started to lighten.

You could finally exhale.

May was currently getting you some dry clothes. Everything you had was socked and she said she'd just toss them into the dryer.

"Okay, so everything I have might be a little outdated for your choice so I just grabbed some things from peters room. Is that okay?"

"Uh-yeah, that's fine"

"Great, here you go. The bathroom is down the hall first left." She said as she handed you some clothes.

Grabbing the clothes you set off to the bathroom. Locking the Door behind you, you finally took in your appearance. Your hair was stuck to your face and eyes were a little less puffy. It could be worse.

Stripping off the wet clothes you looked at the graphic tee May had given you. It read 'I lost an electron. Are you positive?' Peter's favorite shirt. Bringing it to your nose you smelled in Peter's familiar cologne. Hazelnut and vanilla. It was your favorite.

You pulled the T-shirt on and noticed that it was a size to big. The end seem went mid thigh and the short sleeves covered most of your upper arms. You loved it.

You grabbed the dark leggings May had given you and put those on. You took one last look at yourself and exited the bathroom. You placed your wet clothes in a basket and headed back into the living room.

The sound of jingling keys brought your attention to the front door as it swung open. Peter a second after sauntered in with headphones dangling around his neck "Hey May, I'm hom-"

"Is that my shirt?" He pointed.

You look down at the shirt and look back up. Hoping Peter doesnt see your gradually growing red face. "Oh yeah this uh" Your mind was drawing a complete blank.

"Pete your home. I assume you got my texts."

Thank Goodness. You mentally thanked May for saving you from that awkward moment.

While they conversed you took that opportunity to settle back into the living room trying to calm your nerves. You took out your phone and saw the screen display 53 missed calls and 47 messages all from Stephanie.

You turned off your phone and tossed it to your left side. You brought your legs up and hugged them. Staring at the coffee table.

"Hey Y/N" Peter stood near you with a blanket and a smile.

You could of won an medal for the flip your stomach just did. You loved his smile. The way it light up his face. Making his freckles beam even more. Gosh.

"Mind if I sit with you?" He gestured to the empty space to your right. You nodded.

The couched dipped due to his weight. He shifted for about a minute. Trying to make himself comfortable and not touching you. Once he settle in he draped the blanket over both of you. "You comfy?" He gave you a nervous smile while his face glowed a soft pink.

"Uh not quite" You moved your legs so you were resting them on his lap and snuggled deeper into the blanket. "Now I'm comfy"

Peter smiled that smile at you again. Anything that boy did made you weak in the knees. And you couldn't help but smile back. You felt him tense up as he looked away. He reached for the remote turned on the TV. You both mindlessly watched what was on but clearly, you both weren't interested.

Peter was the one to break the silence. "May left for work and won't be back until later tonight." He glanced over at you. "So it's just going to be us today"

"Oh uh-cool"

Oh my God, could you get anymore awkward!! Say something else!!

"You-you wanna watch a movie!"

"Yeah, that sound great. I know the perfect one" Peter moved from the couch carefully moving your legs and made his way to the movie section. You felt a bit disappointed from the lack of contact but insantly felt better when he flashed you Star Wars.

"Oh my god Peter Parker, you could not get anymore nerdy!!" You covered your mouth as you laughed. Something you haven't done in a while.

Peters ears reddened as he through a pillow at your direction. "Says you!! Have you seen the shirt you're wearing!!" It was your turn to blush.

But with that comment you both broke out into fits of laughter. Anymore awkward moments were no more, you both eased right into each other's company. Spending the rest of the day watching movies, snacking and teasing each other relentlessly.

By the sixth or seventh movie you both were exhausted. Peter took that chance to lay his head on your lap. Which you didn't mind. You subconsciously racked your fingers through his hair. Feeling the soft curly locks and appreciating the reaction you got from him.

Peter felt so relaxed under your touch. He could stay like that forever. It wasn't long until Peter fell asleep.

His soft snores made you giggle. Gosh, you loved this boy. With him laying on your lap, you looked at his profile. His defined jaw line, that one scar on his cheek slowly fading away. His beautiful freckles. Everything about him made your heart stop.

You couldn't take it anymore, so you bent your head down and kissed his cheek. It was short and sweet.

"Hey" Peter's tired voice startled you.

"Why'd you take so long?"

You're faced burned a deep scarlet. "I-I thought you were asleep" You stammered.

Oh my God oh my gOd

Peter locked eyes with you and watched you ramble. He lifted his hand to your cheek and pulled you down towards him. Connecting his lips with yours. Stopping you from finishing your sentence. It was pure bliss.

He pulled away for a moment to catch his break. "Stop Talking Y/N and just kiss me"

And so, you did.

A/N: well I wrote that in like 2 hours it's currently 23:59 oops. Hope you like it @wolkenlichtblitz I tried my best to follow the prompt!! If you like this one request another!! (Didn't proof read/edit sorry for Grammar mistakes!!°°°°)

[ohlovelywar]

Stark and Parker

a/n: this took me forever to get out ANON SWEETIE I AM SO SORRY, this takes place right after civil war and italics are flashbacks!  

request: hi so I tried to write a fic but it didn't come out good, so can you do it? because yours are so good!! The reader is Tony Starks daughter and she can't tell anyone for her own safety. she is dating Peter parker, and they don't know about each others secrets until one day he is recruited and see each other at the compound :) I know this is really specific :))

paring: peter parker x fem!stark!reader

warnings: playful teasing and banter, peter being an awkward shy mess that we all love, edited but i haven’t slept all night or day or let’s just say unedited to be safe, cursing cause ITS MEEE, some angst somehow, some fluffy moments, i miss the avengers fam

word count: 2,473

He was late...again. It was the third time this week that he was late for patrol. Peter mentally scolded himself, knowing that he should be helping out more. He was running, running through the bust sidewalks of New York city. Typically, Peter just stuck to watching over Queens. He rarely even went into Brooklyn. But something told him that he needed to be there today. He couldn't figure out why, his spider-senses only telling him to be alert. He tried to decipher his feelings as he squeezed through the crowd of people. He was nervous and...giddy? Well that makes no sense. Right then and there, Peter's body collided with another person, a hot liquid spilling on both of them, causing them both to cry out in pain.

Peter looked up and was met with a girl, no older than he was, now covered in coffee.

"I-I'm so so sorry!" Peter apologized, further scolding himself. She tucked her slightly long, dark hair behind her ear and smiled at him.

"It's okay! It's crowded here so it would have happen regardless," She tried to make the situation better even though she lost all of her dysfunctional families coffee including her own.

"Still, I'll-I'll buy you some new ones! And, uh, a new shirt. Shit. I'm really really sorry." He pulled out his wallet to hopefully reimburse the poor girl for the spilled drinks and spoiled shirt, only to find no money. "Just my luck," he thought to himself.

"Seriously, it's okay! Accidents happen! All the time! Especially here in New York." Sure her skin was burned from the give or take 64 ounces of fresh, steaming coffee poured on her, but she was just as clumsy and she didn't want this poor guy to suffer.

"But," Peter looked down at his watch. He was really late for patrol now. He groaned as he struggled with what to do. He knew he need to start patrol as soon as possible and get to his backpack where his homemade superhero suit was waiting for an adventure and justice. But, he also knew that he couldn't just leave this girl after ruining her day.

She could sense that he was in a hurry. To where? Who knows, but she decided to make this easier on the both of them.

"Give me your phone."

"What?"

"Give me your phone."

"Why-"

"Just do it!" Peter reluctantly handed her his phone, absolutely clueless of her plan. She added her contact into Peter's outdated iPhone, smiling as she returned it to him. "There. You seem like you're in a hurry so you can make it up to me on a date," she winked at him. Peter began to blush as he stuttered. She laughed and waved bye to the boy, hoping that it wouldn't be the last time that she gets to see his cute face.

Peter looked down at the phone and found her contact. Y/n. He smiled as he watched her figure retreat down the sidewalk, further and further away from their little coffee accident. A pretty name for a pretty girl.

Y/N walked into the huge compound, instantly being met with the loud clamor of her expansive and not all completely related family.

"Little Stark!" Wanda greeted, drawing the team's attention to the teenage girl who entered the building.

"Yo Stark! Where's the coffee?" Sam yelled asked.

"Ha. About that-"

"She's wearing it," Natasha pointed out, a teasing smile now on her face.

"Ms. Stark, what happened?" Vision asked, concerned as to why the young was suddenly covered in coffee but still seemed in a fabulous mood.

"Ran into someone."

"Damn kid just cause we have money doesn't mean that you can go spilling it and wearing it," Tony looked at his pride and joy, trying into to laugh.

"Steve doesn't like that language Tony," Rhodey joked.

"You know what? For a Colonel-"

"I'm fine by the way. In case you case were wondering ya know. Just some minor second degree burns no biggie," y/n interrupted Steve.

Wanda gasped, ”You met a boy!"

"You met a boy?!" All the adults formed a chorus. Tony, Steve, and Rhodey were all concerned, protective parents, Vision was trying to figure out what was so specially about meeting someone of the opposite sex, all while Sam and Nat were happy that their niece was finally going to get some.

"Wanda you snitch!"

"I'm sorry! I'm trying to control it I swear! It's just, your thoughts were so loud I couldn't help myself!"

"Who's the boy?" Tony questioned, a million emotions flooding his system.

"Dad-"

"Who's the boy?" He repeated.

"No nobody! No one! Wanda," y/n sent glares to the other young girl in the house.

"Guys stop with the third degree. It's obvious nothing happened. She's literally wearing coffee."

"Jee thanks Sam."

"Anytime y/n/n. Anytime." At that moment, a small ding came from y/n's phone.

"Hey y/n! It's Peter the guy that ran into you earlier today. Would you might to maybe like go out sometime this weekend?" A smile followed by a blush took over y/n's face. How could she say no?

And thus was the beginning of their beautiful relationship.

Five Months Later

The compound was quiet, far too quiet. Y/N hated it with a burning passion. She missed all the clashing and banging from the training center. She missed the awkward, flirting tension that would follow Wanda and Vision everywhere. She missed Sam yelling at Steve to stop running so fast. She missed Nat trying to teach her basic combat skills behind her dad's back. She missed showing Steve all the new things about the internet and watching the greatest movies of all time that he didn't get to see due to the ice. She missed bantering with Sam about who's Steve's best friend was: her or Sam. She missed Rhodey and Sam ranting about the "two crazy white boys" in their lives. She missed her dysfunctional family more than she ever thought possible. And she was so incredibly pissed at both Steve and Tony for not finding a common ground for the accords.

Tony was just as upset. He hated silence, he always knew he did. But he never knew he could hate it so much. He never thought that he could miss Steve, or Wanda, or Clint, or Sam, or Nat. He never knew how much he could miss his daughter yelling at Vision for barging into her room. Or her and Wanda screaming Taylor Swift lyrics at the top of their lungs. Or Steve's thousand questions as they watched some classic movie that he never got to experience. Or the mess the team would leave the kitchen, training room, living room, hell, practically the entire compound. He missed catching Nat teaching y/n how to fight. He missed the dysfunctional family he never knew he had, until Steve and Bucky left him to die in the snow, all alone and cold, bleeding out, wondering where the hell did he go so wrong. Seeing the after math of the Avenger's "civil war", Rhodey struggling to walk on his own and y/n barely leaving her room, made him feel even more guilty. Even thought the fight was both of their faults, Tony couldn't help but feel that it was all his. That he could have, should have, would have done more to fix it...but he did it. And now everyone, even Clint: the retired Avenger, Scott: the man that suddenly entered the team's lives during the fight, and his own sweet daughter: y/n, are facing the consequences.

He sighed, checking his phone while hearing the news blare from his daughter's room to make up for the quietness of the compound.

"Sir, Mr. Parker is here," FRIDAY informed him.

"Send the kid in." He put away his phone and put on his "I'm Tony Stark and I have my shit together" mask.

Peter was, well, to best explain it: the love child of the emotions excited, nervous, anxious, and worried. No matter how many times he had talked to Tony  Stark, he could never get over the fact that he was talking to Tony Stark, THE Iron Man himself. He wondered what Ned would say if he knew. Probably something extremely fanboy-sih like: "Oh my god what did he smell like? If you don't say iron than I give up supporting him." He then thought about what his girlfriend would say to all of this. She didn't exactly know that her boyfriend was the spider vigilante. Or that he had superpowers. Or that Tony Stark had taken him under his wing and had him fight alongside him to stop Captain America. She didn't even know that he left the country just a week ago per Mr. Stark's request. He didn't know what her reaction would be. And he didn't get much time to think about it as the elevator doors opened up to the compound.

Peter's eyes widened in a childlike wonder. He was so caught up in his surroundings that the doors almost closed on him. He stumbled out, still looking around.

"Hey underoos," Tony greeted, putting his phone away.

"H-Hey Mr. Stark. This place is amazing!" Peter exclaimed, his eyes still roaming around the room.

"This used to be the Avengers compound."

"Used to? Oh! Right! Berlin."

"Yeah...Berlin. Let me show you around."

While Tony took Peter on the grand tour, Rhodey thought he'd pay a visit to his favorite Stark.

"How you doing y/n/n?"

"I hate this," she grumbled, lowering the volume of her television.

"I know."

"No offense Rhodey, but you guys are adults. Grown adults. Why couldn't you guys have come to an agreement or something?"

"It's not that simple. You know that."

"But it should have been." She looked down at her lap, trying to hold back the tears. "I'm sorry bout your legs."

"You can't expect to come out with everything in a war like that."

"But it's your family."

"Makes it just a little worth it."

"So, why are you here? Don't get me wrong I love your company Rhodey but I'm sure my dad would prefer you in his sight."

"Came to check in on you. Also, to tell you that the new recruit is here."

"New recruit?" She perked up.

"Yeah. I think you'll like him too. He's your age."

"My age?" She started to laugh. "Rhodes there's no way in hell that Tony Stark, the Iron-Man, my father, would ever recruit a kid my age."

"Well, why don't you just come see for yourself?"

"Is this an attempt to get me out of my room and to face my dad?"

"No, but I'm saving that for future reference. Just come see."

"I'm going. I'm going."

Tony stopped the tour in the living room as soon as he heard his daughter's giggle.

"Pete, there's someone I want you to meet."

As soon as she walked in, Peter froze. Y/N turned her gaze from Rhodey to the two people in front of her and her eyes widened.

"Peter?" she gasped, a smile finding her face for the first time in a week.

"Y/n?" Peter's brows furrowed. He was trying to figure out how the hell his girlfriend got here. Tony looked between the two kids and then back to Rhodey, mentally asking what was going on. Rhodey shrugged his shoulders, just as confused.

"What are you doing here?!" she gave him a hug. She had missed him, esspecially with all the crazyness that had taken over her life the past week.

"Mr. Stark invited me," he hugged her back, also missing the way her voice sounded and how soft her skin was. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here. Wait, invited you?"

"Y/n, this is the new recruit," Tony informed her, scared that she was going to tear him apart.

"Wait what?!" She looked at her dad.

"Wait, why do you live here?"

"She's his daughter," Rhodey answered.

"YOU HAVE A KID!?" Peter yelled.

"Yes.." Tony took a step back, the whole scene feeling too much for him suddenly.

"AND YOURE HIS KID?!"

"Yeah wait why is he recruiting you?"

"He's Spider-Man. How do you two know each other?" Rhodey was more than curious to figure out the drama going on before his eyes.

"YOURE SPIDER-MAN AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME!!!"

"IM SORRY!! YOURE TONY STARKS DAUGHTER AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME!!"

"...YOU HAVE A POINT BUT IM SORRY!"

"Screaming kids," Tony snapped his fingers in-between the two, "yeah, hi! How do you two know each other?"

"Oh, well, uh, y-you see Mr. Stark. The thing is..." Peter scratched the back of his neck nervously.

"He's my boyfriend," y/n cut him off. 

"I did NOT see that coming!" Rhodey exclaimed, laughing. "He's the guy that spilled coffee on you two months ago??!" Y/n nodded sheepishly as Peter blushed.

"You told them!?"

"Pete, I was covered in coffee. What did you want me to do? Say I threw up coffee?"

"Really underoos? My kid?" Tony asked, still refusing to believe that his work child and his blood child were dating.

"I DIDN"T KNOOOW!"

"Really y/n? My underoos?"

"Really dad? My Peter?"

"Hey I found him first."

"Actually, I did."

"Actually the spider did," Rhodey intruded.

"Am I being fought over by Tony and y/n Stark?" Peter asked, still confused as to what was going on.

"Yup. It's a pleasure isn't it?" Rhodey teased.

"Listen, as much as I want to be mad I really can't cause you're both good kids so, knock yourselves out...but not up. Please, not up. But Peter, if you hurt my daughter, I will hurt you. And y/n, if you hurt Peter, I will hurt you. Alright?"

"Yes dad."

"Yes Mr. Stark."

"So wait. Is Peter, like, living with us now?" y/n asked.

"For a bit. Just so we can train him." Peter and y/n looked at each other with huge smiles on their faces.

"Let's give them a moment Peter," Rhodey dragged the teen boy out.

"So, do you forgive me?" Tony looked at his daughter with hopeful eyes.

"I'm still upset with you...but I guess I'll forgive you're letting my boyfriend stay for a bit."

"I love you y/n/n, you know that right?"

"And I love you too dad." The two shared a hug for the first time since the spilt of the Avengers, finally feeling as if they had a family again.

"Is this a bad time to ask: where exactly am I staying?" Peter interrupted.

"Jeez kid, can't you see we're having a moment?" Tony rolled his eyes.

"Come on," y/n laughed, "I'll show you to your room."

"Remember to use protection!" Rhodey called out after the two teens. He received a shove from Tony and a middle finger from y/n. Yup, all was finally going to be right in the compound again.

[stormquill]

Misconduct, Ch. 11 [Soldier 76/Reader]

You have an extremely inappropriate crush on your commanding officer. Maybe if you work hard enough, you’ll stop having feelings.

[ AO3 Link ]

Author's Notes: Collaboration with @antiloquist. Follow the blog @ http://miss-conduct.tumblr.com/

Chapter Notes: look man it's been a solid year and a half i don't really have anything to say for myself lmao

The dead of night gave you plenty of cover as you kept perched atop your roof, overlooking the harbour.

Several days of recon had pointed to the indication that Amélie would be prepped for transport tonight, smuggled aboard one of the many ships bound for the Atlantic the following morning. However, some last-minute digging had uncovered Amélie herself—safe and sound in suspended animation—hidden away in a repair dock on the opposite side of the harbour.

You and 76 had the upper hand for three simple reasons: first, you were aware of the trap waiting for you at the harbour; second, you knew the real location of your target; and third, they weren’t expecting your Commander to be approaching the situation with backup.

76 was advancing towards the repair docks at that very moment. All you had to do was sit tight and pay attention to their presence at the harbour, in case there were any additional circumstances you hadn’t accounted for.

Surprisingly, getting out was the easy part.

The dropship was already in-range. Your handheld evacuation devices—the ones you’d developed with Winston to make your technology more portable—would transport its wearers to the main evac apparatus, installed safely on-board. One of the major flaws of the new tech was that, like its outdated, bulkier version, all nodes had to be activated at once, and once they were activated, it took several hours for them to recharge.

There were three devices in total—one with you, two with 76—and as soon as he confirmed that he’d affixed one to Amélie, you would activate the devices and transport all three of you onto the dropship.

Wait for 76’s confirmation. Hit a button.

“Easy,” you reassured yourself.

You were so tired.

Maybe it was a good thing, you thought. The unholy mess of stress and exhaustion numbed your fear and steadied the grasp on your rifle. At the same time, however, it dulled your senses, making you feel unreactive, and slow. As much as you didn’t want to dwell on the idea, you couldn’t wait to be rid of this mission.

You didn’t tell him that, of course.

Your Commander had glanced down at you before you parted ways, the glaring light of his visor back to the familiar cherry red that suited him most. When you held his gaze, a sinking feeling dropped heavy in your gut, with the inescapable anxiety of absolutely everything going wrong. You’d completed enough training and gone on enough missions throughout your lifetime to be able to control these last-minute fears, but within that moment, you couldn’t shake them off as easily as normal.

“Nothing reckless,” was all you said, “we promised.”

He nodded.

You felt stupid for thinking it at a moment like this, but you wanted to nestle against him again until your raging nerves ebbed to a crawl, until his scent was all you needed as reassurance that everything would be alright.

A few moments of awkward silence passed before you realized you were holding your breath.

“Good luck out there,” you settled on.

“You, too.”

And that was the last you saw of him.

Sudden noises drew you from the memory.

A box truck pulled into the streets below, near one of the boats docked along the harbour. Once they killed the engine, four men rushed out of the vehicle and rounded towards the back of it, hoisting the rear door and prepping to transport something out.

“Athena,” you whispered, voice still feeling too loud in the chill of the early morning. “How many heat signatures in the back of the truck?”

“Calculating...” The female tone was cool and even in your ear. “Detecting six additional heat signatures in the back of the vehicle.”

Four in sight, six in hiding.

Hissing urgent commands at one another, the four visible agents worked together to ease a massive crate from the truck onto a large metal dolly.

“And how many signatures that crate?” you asked.

“Zero.”

As expected, you thought. The crate was a decoy. They were expecting 76 to muscle his way in—and maybe, if you weren’t here, that’s exactly what he would’ve done, only to be met with an empty container and an ambush.

...you both should’ve been gone by now.

You touched the communication device clipped to your ear. “Commander, do you read me? Do we have an ETA on evac? Over.”

The silence sent your mind racing.

“Athena, can I get a status report on the Commander?”

“Vital signs: stable. Communications online. Evacuation node two is prepared for activation. Evacuation node three is prepared for activation.”

Then why the hell wasn’t he responding?

The answer was obvious—he must have encountered enemy interference, either en route or at site. However, the agents below were still maneuvering the decoy cargo towards their ship docked at the harbour, meaning neither them nor the ambush in hiding had been notified of the compromise.

That meant you could still buy him time.

“Commander,” you started, “assume contingency 32B. If I do not receive orders within five minutes, we abort without payload. Athena?”

“Understood. Initiating contingency 32B.”

A split-second later, several cracks shattered the air like fireworks, as every hidden camera your Commander had planted in the immediate area self-destructed.

Neighborhood dogs began barking. Windows of nearby apartment complexes lit with newly woken civilians. The agents below surrounded the dolly, drawing their own guns in response.

Amidst the sudden confusion, you balanced your rifle along the edge of the rooftop, charged your shot to maximum power, and fired at the ship—another crash echoed through the harbour as you blew a hole in the ship’s main hull. The damage wasn’t enough to sink it, but it was enough to keep it from disembarking—more importantly, it was enough to get their attention.

The hidden agents were already piling out of the back of the box truck, while those guarding the dolly shouted and pointed towards your rooftop. Though the shot had given away your position, you immediately lined up another, this time aiming for the vehicle’s engine. The explosion tore through the air louder than any disruption that had come before it. You ducked for cover just before automatic fire began spraying in your direction.

The self-destructing cameras had woken up half the neighborhood, so French authorities would be on their way. You made yourself out to be someone making a play for the fake cargo, which would buy 76 a few extra minutes. And you’d crippled the agents’ ground transportation, meaning they couldn’t fall back to your Commander’s current position, even if they were called to retreat.

Rifle slung around your shoulder, you fell back. You could already hear the heavy footfalls of enemy agents scrambling up your fire escape; you headed for the opposite side, instead, using your grappling equipment to hook onto the roof’s edge and scale down the side of the building.

Three agents were standing guard at the bottom of the fire escape.

You hit the ground running.

Enemy fire sent your heart rattling inside your chest like a bell in a cage, but you kept focused. You’d studied the layouts of these alleys a hundred times over, and outmaneuvering the enemy was child’s play—but the knowledge of what was behind every corner did nothing to ease the sound of their bullets ricocheting as they missed, blasting off bits of brick and concrete around you.

Behind this dumpster. Through this door. Right turn. Left turn. Right turn. Right.

You couldn’t let yourself get hurt again. Not after last time.

“Payload secured,” came the voice you were waiting for, like music to your ears. “Requesting evac.”

“Copy.”

And you hit the button.

Teleportation felt like being yanked by a set of wires tied to your ribcage—it always left you feeling disoriented and unsteady on your feet, even as you made solid contact with the floor of the dropship.

The sight of the unconscious woman jarred you to your senses. Though she was unarmed and barely out of stasis, you weren’t about to underestimate the lethality of a known Talon agent held in such high regard.

Falling over yourself with urgency, you rushed over to the side of her unmoving form. You lifted her body, bridal-style, to the small holding chamber in the back of the dropship, and sat her upright.

You sealed the door shut, and stumbled backwards with the shock of what you’d just done.

You did it.

You rescued her.

As your adrenaline-fueled haste died down, the electric excitement vibrating within your chest replaced itself with a cold, harrowing realization—that the dropship was far too quiet, far too empty around you.

You knew what was behind you before you bothered turning around.

A spent evacuation node sat on the floor where your Commander should have been standing.

“Athena,” you near-whispered, voice weak, “status report?”

“Vital signs: unstable. Communications offline. Evacuation node two, offline. Evacuation node three, offline.”

You took a deep, shaky breath.

You knew what you had to do.

-

To say you hadn’t planned for this was a lie.

Of course you’d planned for it—you’d planned every iteration of every possibility of any combination of the three of you becoming compromised. The contingency of this scenario was clear: neither one of you would leave without the other. Surely, he’d know that.

Surely, he knew you were coming.

All three of your evacuation nodes were spent, which meant you would have to get him out the good old-fashioned way. The question gnawing at you remained: what could have happened that necessitated him removing the transportation device from himself? The node was an instant get-out-of-jail-free card, one which hadn’t been damaged or malfunctioning at time of transport, so why would he ever take it off?

You didn’t have much time to wonder.

Athena dropped you off as close as she could to your Commander’s last known coordinates on the dry docks.

If your positions were switched, you had little doubt 76 would’ve come after you, guns blazing, regardless of enemy numbers or positioning, but you couldn’t afford the same bravado. If you were too heavily outnumbered, trying to get him out on your own would be nothing short of suicide. For 76 to have been taken down, you expected to be faced with an army.

But the dry docks were barren when you arrived. Almost serene.

There were no signs of recent activity in the area, let alone of a recent fight. Aside from 76’s signal pinging you from across the docks, Athena confirmed there were no other heat signatures in the immediate area.

Had he been abducted, maybe? Taken to a secondary location without his tech?

You shook your head, doing your best to parse contingency from paranoia. You were approaching the cargo ship where Amélie’s body was being held mere minutes earlier—unfamiliar enemy territory—and you needed to pay attention.

Readying your weapon, you ascended the set of metal stairs along the side of the ship; already, your footsteps sounded far too loud.

The large, open deck of the cargo vessel was crowded with storage units—massive, rectangular metal boxes of identical shapes and sizes stacked on top of each other like multi-coloured building blocks. As you approached 76’s signal, you kept your steps light and your wits about you, checking your corners while keeping your back pressed to solid surfaces. The deck was dark, claustrophobic, terrible grounds for a fight—if it weren’t for Athena’s confirmation there were no other living souls on-board, you wouldn’t have stepped foot in here without backup.

The pinging in your ear grew more rapid as 76’s signal became stronger on your radar.

To your right, an open storage unit containing the now-empty stasis machine, still running, casting an ice-blue light across the deck and illuminating the scene before you.

Several toppled cargo units crowded the area, all of which were heavily damaged with massive dents and bullet holes. The path of destruction led to the rear-most area of the deck.

A splash of blood was illuminated brilliantly against the dark surface of the ship, awash in the stasis machine’s ice-blue glow, as if it were under blacklight. Another spatter, smeared along the side of a storage container. Several drips along the metal flooring, rounding the corner of another open unit nearby...

You checked your corners before checking inside.

Inside the open storage container sat the form of a man in the glow of his own cherry red visor, hunched over with a hand pressed to his thigh, a pool of his own blood seeping beneath him.

“Don’t,” 76 croaked, sounding weaker than you’d ever heard him, “it’s a trap—”

Reflexes kicking in, you raised your weapon and did a swift 180, aim landing on the head of the other man standing behind you.

And you fired.

You thought you missed, at first—your laser burned a hole in the storage unit behind him—but you realized your shot had gone through him, as the man’s entire body morphed into a cloud of black vapour before your charge made contact.

This didn’t make any sense. There wasn’t anyone else alive on this ship.

You’d checked.

“Athena?” you whispered.

“Target possesses no heat signature. Target possesses no pulse.”

The insinuation of her words sent your mind reeling.

You had no contingencies for this.

The swirling cloud solidified into being once more. Hooded and broad-shouldered, the man towered before you, the sharp edges of his bone-white mask glinting in the blue light. His gloved hands—every finger clawed with a sharp silver talon—carried a mammoth pair of black shotguns you could’ve easily mistaken for cinder blocks. He was black leather and red adornments. He was dread and absolute foreboding.

The partner in more ways than one.

The one he cared about finding.

And Gabriel Reyes laughed at you, his voice as ethereal as the rest of him. “You’re late.”

You blurted out the only words that came to mind. “What the fuck?”

“...eloquent.”

As much as you were trembling, you didn’t lower your gun. “You’re here to kill us, then?”

“And if I am?”

“Anything happens to either us, Amélie is dead,” you snapped. Your voice was much steadier than you were. “The dropship is already en route to headquarters—if we don’t both check in within the hour, it’s set to self-destruct.”

“That so?” His claws readjusted their grip on his shotguns. “How were you planning on getting out of here?”

“Dunno.” You swallowed, hard. “Didn’t think that far ahead.”

He made an amused noise, low in his throat. “It’s been a while since you’ve had someone so willing to die for you, Jack.”

...Jack?

Attention faltering, your blood turned to ice beneath your skin. Pieces of the puzzle were jamming themselves into place, violently, all at once, and as the big picture revealed itself to you, you felt more and more like a complete fucking idiot for not having seen it earlier.

As if reading your mind, Gabriel tilted his head to the side.

“Oh my god,” he chuckled, darkly. “You didn’t know.”

You stood there, facing each other—his guns still at his side, yours still pointed at his head. If your Commander was Jack Morrison, that meant the Gabriel Reyes in front of you wasn’t just any Gabriel Reyes—this was the Gabriel Reyes, ex-commander of Blackwatch, public scapegoat for the first fall.

You suddenly found yourself in the company of men who were killed in an explosion nearly a decade ago and you no longer knew what was real.

“Congratulations, Jack,” said Gabriel. “You managed to find the one person on the planet who bought into the world’s worst-kept secret.”

“Leave them out of this,” snarled the voice behind you. “Your fight is with me.”

“Oh, but this is so much bigger than you and I. Why shouldn’t your new lackey come along for the ride?”

Your desire for an explanation outweighed your caution. “I thought you died, Commander Reyes.”

You could tell the use of his name gave him pause.

“He did,” he replied. “It’s ‘Reaper,’ now. Or did he leave that part out, too?”

Your breath caught in your chest. So not only was Gabriel Reyes still alive, but it was the true identity of the infamous terrorist you’d only ever heard rumours of. The ghost of the battlefield, the shadow of death, the one rumoured to steal the very souls of his victims until their bodies were nothing but dried husks—here he was, standing before you, dismantling your worldview one word at a time.

And yet, you didn’t want him to stop talking.

You lowered your rifle by an inch or two, just enough to better meet his gaze. “What did Commander Morrison do to you?”

He sneered beneath his mask. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would.”

Though you continued aiming at him, Reaper still had not yet raised his weapons against you. He seemed to consider you for a moment—your quivering hands, your unblinking gaze, your steadfast positioning in the face of common instinct screaming at you to run. The sounds of your Commander’s laboured breathing seemed to do little to break your resolve.

Were you really so curious?

Reaper took a few steps forward, his footfalls heavy against the ship deck.

“War is a game,” he said. “A game you can’t win if you’re the only side playing by the rules. But Jack was never one to get his hands dirty. That’s where I came in.”

He continued his approach. The closer he came, the less you could move.

“You’ll do what they ask. You’ll do what is needed. Then they’ll orchestrate your downfall, and deny they had anything to do with you.”

He was inches away from you, now.

He smelled like a battlefield—like death and decay, like earth and gunfire.

“There will always be war,” he continued, “and there will always be people they need to do their dirty work. People just like you.”

“I haven’t—”

“You’ve taken Lacroix. You already are.”

Though you managed to keep your rifle raised, your subconscious had already surrendered, knowing full well you posed no semblance of a threat to this anomaly of an undead man who could dissipate at will.

Slowly, carefully, he pushed the aim of your rifle off to the side, as if he were drawing a curtain in his way.

He closed the distance between you by pressing the tip of his shotgun beneath your chin, tilting your head up until you were gazing into the black sockets of his mask.

You hear your Commander’s voice call out one of your names. You can’t tell which one.

“Remember, when you leave this place.” His gravelled voice was low and deliberate. “Every breath you take is air I’ve let you swallow. Your every heartbeat is a gift from me. From this moment on, you are living on time I’ve allowed you to borrow. And I will be back to collect my dues.”

You barely registered the next words that left you. “I’ll be waiting.”

To your surprise, Reaper laughed. “You don’t deserve them, Jack.”

To your surprise, 76 responded. “I know.”

And Reaper was gone, dark plumes of smoke vanishing into thin air.

Once again, you didn’t have time to wonder.

You immediately unslung your rifle and yanked your jacket off, rushing to 76’s side, the floor of the storage unit scraping hard against your knees.

“...Reader.”

You reached for the side of his belt and pulled out the Biotic Field canister yourself, slamming it onto the ground and activating it. Reaper had prevented him from using it, you figured, in order to have 76’s unstable vital readings lure you here faster.

“Reader.”

You bundled your jacket and helped him apply more pressure to his thigh to stop the shotgun wound’s bleeding. The blood loss had made him several shades too pale, you noticed, but the flow already seemed to be easing as the biotic yellow glow knit his insides back together. It wasn’t going to be a complete recovery, but it would be enough to keep him stable until you reached headquarters.

A gloved hand brushed your bangs out of your face and tucked your hair behind your ear.

You looked up to meet the light of his visor.

“Hey,” he offered, sounding almost playful.

“Hi,” you said back, still feeling numb.

“I know asking if you’re okay is a stupid question, but I’m asking it anyway.”

“I’m...compartmentalizing.” You took a sharp breath. “We’re not safe, yet. We need to get out of here.”

“Mm. How are we getting out of here?”

“Dropship’s on standby. Should be here in a few minutes.”

“I thought you said the dropship left.”

“I lied.”

With your jacket soaked through with blood, the fabric as a whole became easier to twist around; you wrapped the wet jacket firmly around his thigh, tying the sleeves into a tight knot to keep the makeshift tourniquet in place. He reacted little to the pain—he must have been exhausted.

“You took off the evac node,” you said, dully. “You took off the evac node to go after Reaper.”

You didn’t need to see the look on his face when his silence already spoke volumes.

“We promised.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Nothing reckless.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You promised.”

“I know.”

As hard as you willed against it, tears stung the corners of your eyes as you tried to look down to hide them, down at the rapidly blurring vision of your hands covered in his blood. The memory of you turning the corner and finding him sitting here, bleeding to death, rewound and replayed in your mind’s eye. What if he was hurt just a little worse?

What if you got here just a little too late?

“You promised.” Your cracking voice gave your tears away. “But you don’t give a shit about dying, do you?”

“Not until I met you.”

“Don’t give me that.” Your chest felt tight. “Not after what you just pulled. We could’ve gotten killed—Commander, I almost lost you—”

His hands reached for you, moving up to hold the sides of your face, and your words died in your throat. You could feel the blood in his gloves pressing against your cheeks—everything around you smelled like it now, smelled like him now, like regen and blood and leather—but he leaned his forehead to yours, and the warmth of his skin steadied you.

You’d never felt him tremble, before.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he breathed, and the way his voice broke on the words shook you to your core. “I’m sorry.”

The sound of his faltering only made you break worse. Your shoulders shaking, tears still streaming down your face, you held your hands against his, keeping them pressed against you—he was holding onto you as if he needed you to anchor him in place, as if you were the only thing on this earth keeping him tethered to it.

For the briefest of moments, he touches your lips to where his would be.

He passes out against your shoulder before you can register what happened.

And your dropship arrives.

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (103/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous Chapters conveniently available here.

[8 February 233 Before Age.   Planet Quadzityz.]

There was a long, complicated story behind the war currently raging on Quadzityz    It told how the whole thing began over outdated laws and the government failing to collect taxes from the wealthiest members of its society.   It told of several regime changes as the people revolted against the corrupt ruling class, only to find they had no idea what new system to install in its place.     There were some fascinating side-stories about individuals who tried to ride out the chaos.    A princess who went from hero to villain to martyr all in the span of a month.   An idealistic leader who declared war on his neighbors rather than accept the need to address domestic unrest.    A charismatic general who saw the conflict as a chance to build an new empire on the ashes of the Old Quadzityz.  The general's husband, who turned against him when fortune tellers convinced him that he was prophesied to usher in the end of the universe.    It was all very fascinating stuff.   Over the next two hundred years, historians would make entire careers out of sifting through everything that happened.

Luffa didn't care about any of this.   Her own personal account of the Quadzityz War was this:  "I was busy dealing with other nonsense in other sectors, or I would have settled this a long time ago.   Then some fool decided to bring slorgs into the fighting, and I have to kill them all before they start to breed and infest other planets.   I am furious about this."

To be sure, Quadzityz was well beyond Federation space, the part of the galaxy that Luffa had staked as her home turf.    Officially, her policy as Federatrix was to settle internal conflicts within its borders and to defend it from external invasions.    Unofficially, Luffa pretty much did whatever she pleased, though she did try to stick to her mandate as a general rule.  The Federation alliance was her idea, after all.   But even from three sectors away, the presence of weaponized slorgs was a clear and present danger to the Federation, so it became her top priority as soon as she learned about it.  

Making landfall on Quadzityz was no simple matter.   The entire sector was involved in the war, and so Luffa had to fight all the way to the planet.   Her star yacht, the Emerald Eye, lacked some of the defenses that a standard military transport would have, but Luffa had customized it over the years, and it had held up reasonably well in numerous war zones.  Flying through hostile space was easy enough for her. Landing the ship, however, was a more difficult proposition, as it would be vulnerable to hostile fire from both air and ground forces.   So Luffa plotted a course that would skim the atmosphere of the planet just long enough for her to travel the rest of the way on her own.    The approach vector carried certain risks of its own, but it was so unorthodox that most of the other combatants were caught unawares, and neglected to attack.  

Luffa stood in the cargo bay of her ship as it completed its descent into the atmosphere and began to level off.    Once it started to point upwards to ascend back into space, she would make her jump.  

"Any photographers around?" Luffa asked into the communicator she wore in her left ear.  

"No, but we're about a hundred miles in the air right now," replied the voice on the other end.   Her wife, Zatte, was on the bridge, and would mind the ship while Luffa prepared a landing site for her.  

"Wouldn't put it past them to follow me here,"  Luffa grumbled.    "There were enough of them on the last three planets in this sector.   I'm starting to wonder if the correspondents start these wars just so they'll have something to report on."

"It wasn't that many," Zatte said.   "And the shot of you smashing that armored transport was really cute."

Luffa winced at the word 'cute'.   "It made me look like a chump," she said.   "Any normal Saiyan could lift one of those things.    And my eyes were closed, so it looks like I was straining myself."

"You worry too much," Zatte said.  "I can promise you: nobody saw that photo and thought you were a weakling.   But if it makes you feel any better, the only thing waiting for you down there are about fifty slorgs armed with cybernetic assault weapons."

"That's why I married you," Luffa said with a smirk.    "You always know the right thing to say to cheer me up."

"See you soon," Zatte said.  

The ship began to climb out of the atmosphere, and this was Luffa's signal to make her jump.    With a deep breath and a running start, she leaped out of the cargo bay door, through the force field that maintained the pressure inside the ship, and into the thin air of the planet's thermosphere.  In a single fluid motion, she contorted her body to face the Emerald Eye, and fired a beam of crimson light from her fingertips, which passed just over the dorsal hull.   A moment later, an explosion could be seen in the distance, indicating that she had successfully destroyed her target, which was an enemy ship that had strayed a little too close for her liking.    

Drawing her arms to her chest, she allowed herself to freefall head-first to the planet's surface, and then she transformed.     Her normally black hair flashed into a gleaming golden color, while her brown eyes glowed an eerie green.   Luffa applied her own immense ki energy to increase the speed of her descent, rocketing down to the planet like a missile.  She slowed just enough as she reached the ground that her impact left only a small crater in the ground, though this was still more than enough to disrupt and confuse the enemies waiting for her.    

Just as Zatte had promised, there were several dozen slorgs in the area, and she tore into them first, ignoring the Quadzity soldiers and their alien allies.    Luffa's primary strategic objective was to remove all traces of slorgs from the sector, in order to ensure that they wouldn't breed and spread their population into Federation worlds.    Her second objective was to find any Saiyans that happened to be participating in the war.   She would interrogate these for any information she had concerning King Rehval, her most hated enemy.  Her third objective was to put a stop to the fighting.   Zatte didn't necessarily agree with the order of those priorities, but Luffa considered the matter academic, since she felt she could accomplish all three simultaneously.    The sector was a mess, and the slorg problem was just a good place to get started.  

Slorgs were not sapient creatures, though it was possible to train them to perform certain tasks, and certain rogue scientists had found ways to control them with cybernetic implants.  These particular slorgs were of a self-sustaining product line.   The initial batch contained cybernetics that would self-replicate, and when the slorgs mated, they were programmed/trained to install additional cybernetic implants into their young.    In theory, any military who purchased these slorgs was supposed to have complete control over them, and they could shut them down or command them to self-destruct if needed, but Luffa knew that war wasn't as neat and tidy as munitions dealers and defense ministers liked to think.   She had once fought another line of cyber-slorgs that were supposed to auto-sterilize after a certain period of time, but there was a bug in the program, and the slorgs managed to breed out of control anyway.  

As she smashed her fist into the face of one, shattering its six-inch teeth like a pane of glass, another slorg grabbed her from behind with its tentacles.    Slorgs usually tried to perform a "death-shake" on their prey, lifting a creature up over its head and shaking it violently to break the animal's neck.   The technique was probably millions of years old, but whoever had designed the cybernetics added a new twist: the plasma cannons mounted on the slorg's back would automatically train on the victim once the slorg raised them above its head.   All of this was only a minor inconvenience for Luffa, however.    Using her ki as a shield, she deflected the cannon fire into another slorg, and flipped herself around to drag her "captor" by its own tentacles, and slamming it into a third slorg.     Even as she completed this maneuver, a fourth one came up from behind and grabbed her arms.  

Now the Quadzity soldiers were getting involved.   Taking up positions around her, they fired into the horde of slorgs, confident that the cybernetics would prevent the creatures from turning on their masters.   Luffa found their tactics laughable.   Just because the slorgs wouldn't go wild over friendly fire didn't mean that she couldn't use them as cover.   The smart choice would have been to use the slorgs as a diversion and regroup to a more favorable position.   That, or to call in air support.     Truthfully, Luffa wasn't entirely sure what the best move would be for her opponents.   Surrender, perhaps.  

Bored with the slorgs, she cried out and increased her ki, generating an explosive wave that fried most of their circuits and drove them away from her.    This was mostly to separate the live slorgs from the ones she had already killed.   Before they could recover, she rushed each of them at breathtaking speed and fired a focused ki blast through their vital organs.   Satisfied that there were no more for her to kill, she turned her attention to the conventional forces that now surrounded her.   Thirty seconds after that, she used the lull in fighting to focus her senses on any ki signatures in the skies.    Any manned airships would be detectable by their pilots, and she used this to aim her ki blasts.    Drone weapons were still an issue, so she contacted Zatte on her earpiece to find out what the Emerald Eye's sensors could pick up.   Zatte liked to flirt on the line, but her tactical reports were otherwise very clear and concise.

Luffa repeated this process for several more minutes, until at last she had pacified enough land and airspace to safely escort the Emerald Eye to the ground.    There were risks in leaving the ship unattended, but Zatte had work to do on the surface, and Luffa was confident that she could secure alternate transportation if the star-yacht ended up being destroyed.  

"Enjoying yourself?" Zatte asked when she stepped off the ramp leading from the entrance.  

Luffa wiped the slorg blood from her arms before answering.   "Yeah, this isn't half-bad.    You need a lift to the command center?"

Zatte scanned the terrain with her one good eye.   She drew her pistol, and Luffa turned to see if there was a target, then realized Zatte was only making use of the telescopic sight mounted on the barrel.  

"Nah, I can make it," she said.    Tapping her earpiece, she added: "I'll give a shout if anything goes wrong."

An explosion suddenly rocked the ground beneath them.    Zatte took that as her cue to get moving.     "You probably want to check that out.    Have fun, okay?"  

As Zatte ran, her body faded from sight.    Her ability to manipulate energy allowed her to become virtually undetectable except by sound or smell.    Luffa smiled as she watched her vanish, then she took off for her next target.  

*******

"This is ridiculous," Lesseri said as she and Endive ran through the bombed out streets of Inoy, one of Quadzityz larger cities.  

"You had no objections to the plan  before we landed," Endive replied.  

"Oh, I had objections," Lesseri said, "I just didn't bring them up because I didn't have any better ideas.   This is probably our best bet, but it's still ridiculous."

With Luffa on the planet, it was only a matter of time before the war would come to an abrupt end.   All three sides of the conflict had turned their attention on the Super Saiyan, and yet she had still managed to carve out a demilitarized zone on the planet's largest island.   The only thing slowing Luffa down now was the need to defend her newly acquired territory, though she still found time to make raids deep behind enemy lines.    At least the warring factions were keeping Luffa busy... for now.

All of that would change, however, if Luffa were to sense Saiyan power levels on the planet.  That would happen almost instantly, unless the Saiyans suppressed their ki.   The moment they used their powers for any feats of strength or speed, Luffa would notice it and come after them.   There was a slim chance that she would be distracted by whatever she was doing, but Lesseri and Endive both knew that Luffa was obsessed with interrogating Saiyans in her search for King Rehval.  Whatever Luffa was doing, it was almost certain that she was keeping an eye out for Saiyans, just in case any of them happened to show up.

The safest bet was to wait for Luffa to finish her business on Quadzityz and leave, but this carried risks of its own.  Lesseri and Endive were counting on the war to act as a smokescreen.   Once the planet was pacified, it would be difficult for them to move around on the planet without attracting attention, and even if Luffa left the planet, she would only be a subspace radio message away.   Lesseri's group would have a head start if Luffa came after them, but they didn't like the idea of attracting Luffa's attention at this stage of their quest.  

Endive's plan was dangerous, but it was the only logical course available to them: They would make their way to Quadzityz, and carry out their mission without using their ki at all.  This meant that if they ran into serious trouble, that they wouldn't be able to defend themselves, but Endive reasoned that they could ease that burden by scavenging arms and armor from dead soldiers.   She had hoped to secure a vehicle as well, but so far all the transports they had encountered were damaged beyond repair.    

"Slorg up ahead," Lesseri said as she checked her binoculars.  

"Can we go around it?" Endive asked.    

Lesseri pulled out her handheld sensor device and pulled up an interactive map of the section of the city they were in.   "Too many blues that way," she said as she pointed in a westerly direction.  Then she gestured at the green markings on her own helmet and Endive's body armor.   "It'd be tough to bluff our way past them with all this enemy gear we're wearing, and if we have to fight, I'd rather take my chances on the slorg.  At least he won't call for help."

"What about that way?" Endive suggested.   She pointed to a road leading northeast.    

"Greens had a command post that way," Lesseri said.   She tapped her finger on the part of the map she was referring to.    "But the Blues knocked it out yesterday.   Lot of rough terrain to cover, and then we'd have to climb in and out of a pretty big crater."

Endive smiled.   "We could always wait here," she said.  "Sooner or later, Luffa will fly in and kill the slorg for us."

"And she'll just fly off as soon as she's done, right?" Lesseri grumbled.   "You don't know how she thinks.   She'll try to get as much done here as she can before moving on.   If she spots us, she'll think we're more enemy soldiers to round up.   Once she's close enough to take our guns, she won't need to sense our ki.   She'll know we're Saiyans from the smell of our body odor."

"True," Endive said.    

"Well, I say we fight it," Lesseri said.   "You with me?"

"Very well, it is just one slorg," Endive said, patting the sidearms she had strapped to her waist.    "The Reds wouldn't have brought them into this unless these Green weapons weren't formidable.   Let's try to set up a crossfire."

*******

Two hours later, Endive was beginning to think they should have waited for Luffa after all.   There had been three slorgs, not just one, and there were at least twenty soldiers and mercenaries in the mix as well.    This worked to their favor somewhat, as they could count on their enemies to fight each other, but it also made it that much harder for the Saiyan women to advance.    Even without ki, the pair still had enough muscle to turne over a wrecked truck and use it as cover while they shot at the slorgs, but the cybernetic implants on the creatures allowed them to coordinate their attacks, which made things much more difficult.  

"If we don't get out of here soon," Endive shouted over the blaster fire, "Luffa really will drop in on us!"

"I've got an idea," Lesseri said.   "Cover me!"

Endive did as she asked, and laid down fire to keep the others from trying to pick off Lesseri as she leaped out from behind the truck. She jumped to a broken barricade, then to a lamp post, which she used to propel herself to a third-story window of a building along the intersection.   The Greens and Blues were unsure how to proceed, since Lesseri was wearing parts of both of their uniforms.  The slorgs ignored her completely, as they still had plenty of targets to shoot at.    Endive waited, and for a moment, she began to wonder if Lesseri had found some way around the battle and left her behind.  

Instead, there was a series of explosions from the building.  Before anyone could react, a large chunk of the wall facing the battle tore away, and fell down upon the Greens.   Some of them might have survived, but it would take them a long time to dig themselves out.    The slorgs then turned their attention on the Blues, since they no longer recognized the buried Greens as a threat.   In the time it took for their cybernetic implants to reconsider the battle, Endive managed to slip out into the open and scramble over the wreckage that now covered the Green position.   She found Lesseri waiting for her on the other side.  

"Why didn't you do that in the first place?" Endive asked.

"I didn't think I had enough explosives to pull it off," Lesseri said.   "Then I realized I didn't need to bring down the whole building, just a big enough piece to take out one side.  Probably just as well that we thinned the herd a little first."

They continued on their way, and were pleased to find that the rest of the journey was relatively clear of obstacles.   At last, they arrived at an apartment building, with a penthouse comprising the top five floors.

"Should be a simple smash and grab," Lesseri said as she shot the lock off the service entrance and kicked the door open.   "Or it will be, if Guawar and Treekul can tell us where to look."

Their ultimate goal was a thing called "Jindan", a rumored technique that would greatly increase a Saiyan's strength.   While searching for the truth behind the rumors, Lesseri had met Treekul, and alchemical historian who recognized the term "Jindan" from her research.    They formed an alliance, which eventually expanded to include Endive, and finally Guwar, a Saiyan mathematician.   Without any real leads to speak of, Treekul had directed the Saiyans to locate ancient alchemical texts, which she believed contained techniques and formulae which would have been refined to create the Jindan power of today.   To pursue this line of reasoning, she relied upon a mystic ability to track scrolls and other relics by extrapolating their position, using the known locations of other artifacts.    Treekul's geomantic compass had led them to Quadzityz, and as they approached the planet, she had managed to narrow down the search to a single building in the city of Inoy, but this was the limit of Treekul's precision.   However, Guwar believed that his skills could help refine her calculations, and so they had remained behind while Lesseri and Endive handled the mission.  

"I'm sure our resident mathematician will come through for us," Endive said.    She reached into her ruck sack and withdrew a bone from the gravesite they had robbed on their last mission.  

"He'd better," Lesseri said as she took out her communicator to call their ship.    "Because we don't have time to search this place room by room."

To his credit, Guwar was able to improve Treekul's precision, but only enough to narrow it down to the top three floors of the penthouse.    For anything better, they had to take new readings, while Endive held the bone in the building, and then again after she had jogged one hundred yards due east of it.    By the time she returned, Lesseri had the coordinates.

"68th floor, probably some kind of trophy room or private art gallery," she said as they took the elevator.   When it requested a security clearance to go beyond the 60th floor, they simply opened the top of the elevator car and climbed the cables the rest of the way.   Eight stories up, they forced the door to their destination.

"Be careful," Endive said as they got off on the 68th floor.   "This building may be abandoned, but anyone rich enough to own a private collection of ancient artifacts may have invested in a security system."

"As long as it isn't slorgs," Lesseri said, "I think I can deal with that." She led the way as they crept through the hallway.   Every so often, Lesseri would stop to check their position against the coordinates they had received from Guwar.    "There it is," she said, pointing at what appeared to be an ordinary wall.   "Must be some sort of secret entrance, but our prize is about seven feet beyond that wall."

"Fortunately, I have just the thing to open the passage," Endive said with a chuckle.   She took a pair of her plasma weapons from her belt and assembled them into a larger gun.    "I will only need a moment to angle the shot so as not to hit what we came for."

"Aim away from the floor," Lesseri said.   "There might be pressure sensors to detect footsteps."

"Let's hope not," Endive replied.    She stepped to one side and ended up straddling a chair as she chose a suitable trajectory.  "We can't fly over them without using our ki, now can we?"

"We'll figure something out," Lesseri.    "Go on, take the shot."

As soon as Endive did, the entire floor filled with the obnoxious shrill of an alarm system.   Realizing the damage had already been done, Endive continued firing at the same portion of the wall, until she had destroyed a large enough piece for one of them to climb through to the other side.

"See if you can find a way to shut that damn thing off!" Lesseri shouted.    "I'll take a look inside!"

Endive turned and went to search the rest of the penthouse, and Lesseri crawled through the hole in the wall.   Since the alarm was already triggered, she threw caution to the wind and walked casually to the exact coordinates Guwar had given her.    There, she found an old copper retort on a stand.   A series of sigils and runes had been engraved across almost every square inch of its surface   Nearby, she saw a scroll in a transparent plastic display case.   It had been unrolled enough to read part of its contents, though Lesseri could make no sense of the handwriting or jargon.   That would be up to Treekul.  It frustrated her to be so dependent on someone else to interpret these clues, but she hadn't come this far to stop now.   She changed a setting on one of her pistols, causing it to function more like a cutting torch than as a weapon, and used it to remove the scroll from its case.    Then she scooped up the retort and made her way to the secret door into the foyer, which was clearly visible from the inside of the gallery.    She had hoped that Endive would have found a way to shut off the damned alarm by now, but she supposed it didn't matter now that they were ready to leave.  

As Lesseri stepped out into the foyer, she was suddenly grabbed from behind by some sort of mechanical arm.  As she tried to shove it aside, it was joined by another arm, and then another.  She twisted her body away from her assailant, and saw that it was a robot.  

"Submit!" it cried over the blare of the alarm.  Its design somewhat resembled a humanoid, but its torso was long and thin, with ten long, spindly arms attached to either side.     The speaker on its head was located roughly where a person's mouth would be, and instead of eyes, it had two pairs of blinking lights.   It had four legs, each about two feet in length, which now carried the machine forward as it continued its attack on Lesseri.

"Submit!  Submit!" it repeated.    Lesseri dropped the stolen items and reached for her sidearm, but just as she was about to fire on the robot, something else came from behind her and grabbed her arm, spoiling her aim.    The plasma bolt went over the robot's head and destroyed a chunk of the ceiling.    

Instinctively, Lesseri raised her free arm to try to hit her second opponent in the face with her elbow, but then she noticed the first one was still coming towards her, so she went limp instead, dropping to the floor.    She was pleasantly surprised to see the robot pounce forward and strike its comrade, a second robot of the same model.    It stilll hadn't released its hold on her arm, but neither robot could exploit that advantage, as they both struggled to untangle their other limbs from each other.    

Lesseri wondered where the things had come from, and how they had managed to get so close to her without her noticing, and then she happened to look down and saw a third robot emerging from the floor.   There was no opening; the machine seemed to rise up from the carpet like a swimmer coming up for air in a pool of water.

"Submit!" it cried as it grabbed hold of her left boot.  

Lesseri remembered her sidearm and pointed it at the robot's face.   She fired, destroying its entire upper body, but it's grip on her ankle didn't loosen at all.   In fact, its other nine arms still seemed to be reaching for her, though more aimlessly than before.   She changed the weapon's settings to fire a narrow beam, hoping that this would be enough to cut herself loose without hurting herself in the process, but before she could try, another metallic arm grabbed her.   She looked around and found the first two robots had managed to get their act together.  

"This is getting complicated..." she said under her breath.    

Lesseri managed to roll clear of the other robot arms, though she was unable to free herself from the ones on her arm and leg.    It would have been easy to rip them apart with her ki, but doing this would bring Luffa on them, and the situation hadn't gotten that desperate yet.   Her muscular frame still had enough power to drag the robots along the floor, and for a moment she considered trying to escape this way.    She even briefly thought about scooping up the copper retort and the scroll she had dropped, until she saw a fourth robot emerging from one of the walls.    The mission could wait.    

She moved as quickly as she could, and made it out of the foyer and around the corner to the hallway that led to the elevator.    It was there she found Endive, who had run into a group of robots herself.   They had already gotten the better of her, and had wrapped enough of their arms around her to immobilize her completely.    

"They're coming out of the walls!" Endive shouted when she spotted Lesseri.    The warning came too late, and if Endive had anything more useful to say, the robots stopped her before she got the chance.    One of them unfolded its head into a long strip of metal, and wrapped this around her head, covering her mouth completely.  

Lesseri moved closer, as she had no other idea on what to do.    She would probably need Endive's help to get out of this mess, and even if she didn't, Endive was between Lesseri and the elevator.   Endive's muffled screams were barely audible over the alarm and all of the robots chirping "Submit!" over and over.    Lesseri wasn't sure if Endive was being hurt in some way, or if she was simply upset about being captured.  

Then Lesseri felt two more robots grabbing her from behind, and she realized that Endive had been trying to warn her.   Now that the reinforcements had arrived, the robots clinging to her boot and arm managed to right themselves and work together.    Their forty limbs quickly linked together and wrapped themselves around Lesseri like a spider wrapping up its prey, and once they were finished, one of them unfolded its head to gag her, just like Endive.  

Somehow, the robots were still able to move, despite being clustered together around their prisoners.   Each group lifted the Saiyans into an upright position, and carried them back into the foyer.   Lesseri found all of this humiliating, but decided that it would be rash to break free, since the robots hadn't actually hurt them yet.    Eventually, someone would release them, if only to put them into some confinement cell, and she and Endive could figure out their next move from there.  

"Capture complete!" one of the robots announced to no one.  The alarm fell silent, and Lesseri was grateful for that small concession.  

"Perimeter secure!" the robot continued.   "Preparing prisoners for disposal!"

Lesseri wasn't sure what that meant until she noticed Endive convulsing from within her restraints.   She noticed a faint scent of ozone, and once she listened for it, Lesseri thought she could hear a slight buzz coming from Endive's position.    

The robots were administering electrical shocks to her.    

Lesseri wasn't sure why they had started with Endive, or what the ultimate purpose of this was.    Was this meant to kill intruders, or was it part of an elaborate interrogation?  Or were they simply being tortured to satisfy the penthouse owner's warped sense of justice?   And how far could they let this go before they had no choice but to use their ki to escape?

"Physiological responses measured!" one of the robots said.    "Preparing proper dosage!"

Lesseri looked on as one of the other robots holding Endive unfolded its head to reveal yet another arm, with a hypodermic needle attached to the end.   From what it had said, she could only guess that the shock treatment was some kind of check to see how Endive's body would fare against whatever was in the needle.   Was it poison?  A sedative?    Drugs to ensure her compliance?   Lesseri was finding it more and more difficult to justify holding back.     To hell with worrying about Luffa.    At least the Super Saiyan was a known quantity.    At least, if Lesseri used her ki, they would survive, and there was at least a chance they could run back to the ship and take off before Luffa caught up to them.   Surely Endive understood that just as well as Lesseri did.  

Then why hadn't Endive summoned her power to break free?   Did she not realize the danger she was in?    As the needle moved closer and closer to Endive's throat, she simply stared straight ahead, her eyebrows knitted into a tight frown.    Did Endive had a plan, or was she just waiting until the last possible moment to make a move?

And then, just when Lesseri couldn't stand the suspense any longer, just when she was about to use her own ki to get them out of this mess, she felt it.     It was a Saiyan ki, but not Endive's, or Lesseri's, and certainly not Guwar's, or even Luffa's.  

She had no idea whose power she was sensing, or what it might mean...

NEXT: The Apostate

[spectral-buni]

📺Alice Moon in different Villainous AUs📺(OUTDATED)

I was reading some Baby Hats collection comics(ADORABLE, by the way, should check ‘em out), and thought, I wonder what Alice would be like in those AUs and some... and here we are. So, far I only got a few, so I’ll keep reblogging to add on if I find any cool ones. Also, if you guys have AUs you think I could possibly use, feel free to share them with me, I will credit you!

☀️🐺Heroic🐺☀️AU:

I’m not sure who initially created this AU, but I’ll use @qtarts designs because I love them to death!

Here, Alice Moon is instead Malice(Ma-less) Sun (put a lot of time in that name, not really).

Malice is a holy demon. She died under mysterious circumstances, and accidentally redeemed herself when she saved a life. To this day, she tries to earn her spot back as the strongest demon in Hell

She has a stubby grey tail and can make ears like a wolf’s pop on the top of her head

A notable power of hers are her poisonous tears and her incredible strength

She cannot fly, however, for her wings were ripped off long ago

She owns a small bakery called Bitters N’ Death. It was started to sell villains pastries filled and made with unpleasant ingredients to either give to their heroes or eat them themselves. Unknown to her, her pastries made for great heroic products. She sold it to White Hat, who offered a large sum of money for her small business and cooperation. She makes cakes that can heal, donuts that can increase strength, and some that can wash out evilness to an extent. She had no idea all those bootleg spices she bought off a market would make such good pastries, but continues doing it

Her colors are black, white, and some blue

Her frame is the same as Alice’s, and has light grey eyes with black scleras. Her pupils are inverted crosses. Her teeth blood-stained and sharp(claims it’s blood, but her cherry scented breath tells another story). Her long, grey-white hair is greasy and straightened. Her skin is white, but completely smooth.

Malice is a rude and arrogant woman, closeminded on all aspects and believes her opinion is the only one that counts. She’s got a silver tongue even villains get scared of, and simply put isn’t a nice person. Malice doesn’t follow anyone, she has no ruler or ‘god’ to look up to, except White Hat who she has to respect due to him being her boss

She's very nonchalant, and doesn't show emotion to pretty much anyone. Malice isn't one to react to even the smallest things

White Hat isn’t very giddy about her, but he can tolerate her enough to hire her for her bakery. Sometimes White tries to convince her she’s a really good person, but Malice always denies him that. He’ll ocasionally try to compliment her, only to have to dodge an incoming kick from her

Clemencia has a grudging respect for Malice, but doesn’t like her too much. It’s sort of like stepsisters forced to like each other, but far better than what Demencia and Alice have. For one, Clemencia has never tried to kill Malice. They have their occasional chats about stuff

Slug has respect for her abilities and snark, but he doesn’t enjoy her presence. Trying to get the two to get along is like trying to join two negative poles together, it just won’t work

6.6.6 doesn’t at all like Malice. But 6.6.6 doesn’t like anything

🌕🦉Apathetic🦉🌕 AU

Apathetic AU by @nivilliain and @themcnobody

Here, her name is Alibi(A-ley-bye) Satellite

Alibi is a seraph, but doesn’t take her ranking very seriously(claims she does, but doesn’t)

Her six wings are dark brown and her lips are naturally dark. Alibi’s hair is horned like an owl’s

Two notable powers of hers are invisibility and teleportation, therefore making her impossible to track down

She doesn’t own anything, not a bakery nor a medical degree

She’s very quiet and introverted. She’ll never initiate conversations first, and is cold to others. But Alibi has a very flexible moral code. She has no patience for idiocy and will not give her enemies a second chance

Her colors are yellow, brown, and grey

Her skin and body are the same as Alice’s, scars included. Her arms, however are entirely bionic. Her eyes are also robotic, with the cross- shaped pupils the cornea being a glowing yellow and the rest a metallic grey. Her brown hair is straightened and reaches her chin

Grey Hat was rather annoyed by her presence. She claimed to have gone down from heaven to guide them, but she does very little and none of them have been ‘enlightened’ as she claimed they would be. Full of promises, but no action. Though, she has proved to be a good hitwoman...

Yamencia isn’t at all fond of Alibi. Alibi is also attracted to Grey Hat, so she’s a rival. Only she deserves Grey Hat! Not that seraph scum!

Clug honestly doesn’t really notice her. She’s mostly quiet around him. Though, he’ll catch her do something awful. Clog enjoys this sadistic side of her

E.0.3 appreciates that she’s pretty much indestructible. Alibi is surprisingly patient with him, since he’s a sweet heart with incredible strength like her. They get along fine

⭐️🦊Cowardice🦊⭐️ AU

Cowardice AU by @skribblie

Alisabeth(A-lee-sah-beth) Star

Alisabeth is a cherub

She allows her fox ears peek out, and has a fluffy fox tail

Her colors are orange, grey, white, and green

Similar to the Heroic AU, she’s got a bakery that Fraid bought to sell her ‘heroic pastries’(Well, Glorf was the one who negotiated). She also has experience in the medical field, so no matter how atrocious she may be with the scalp, she manages to do something good out of it

She’s a lazy woman with very little kindness in her heart. What she does have of kindness, she uses it on the gang. She’ll ocasionally say something bordering on straight up cruel, but claims it to be her being honest. She is honest, and a little sadistic. But she tries to be nice for Fraid’s sake. She’s constantly tired, as well

Same physical build as all the other hers. She has her long, orange hair simply braided. She has bright green eyes, and claws. She’s paper white, and is covered from head to toe with scars of all sorts, so she bundles up in bandages

Fraid Hat is a bit frightened by her. She’s still new to the team, but she’s managed to do great with her bakery, no matter how terrifying her cooking process and ingredients can be. But he appreciates that she tries to be nicer around him

Sanity is okay with Alisabeth. She doesn’t really like how she always frightens Fraid Hat, but Alisabeth tries to fix it on her own, so there’s that. They’re iffy with each other

Dr. Glurf and her are on good terms. They both try to protect Fraid Hat while also playing a prank on him every now and then. I mean, one of the two doesn’t do it entirely on purpose

4.0.4? They don’t really talk to each other much, but sometimes the pink bear’ll eat the stuff that’s about to go bad in the bakery, so....?

🌎🐸Inked 🐸🌎AU

Inked AU by @the-mighty-sorceress

(Tell me if I need to change anything about the character)

Ally(Ah-lie, like the word)Earth

She doesn’t have any frog-like appendages, but always rocks a frog hood

Generally, a hippie nerd who loves to recycle. She’s really chill, and doesn’t care about you unless you bring her some Burger King or Carl’s Jr. She likes Java Juice smoothies, and small creatures. She’s asexual and the same romantic orientation as the other hers. She also has a ton of consipracy theories about everything(“I hear Java Juice is secretly governed by a grey alien”)

Her colors are green, blue, black, and yellow orange

Her specialty are some body modifications. Her main job is still making gourmet pastries and drawing, though. She also has a degree in surgery and nursing, so it’s useful in her modifications

Ally has the same frame as all the other variations of her. Her hair is long and dyed a light shade of blue. She wears darker blue cross earrings. Ally has a split tongue, and wears yellow-orange colored contacts. She also has only one tattoo, a small crescent moon on one of her shoulder blades. Ally often draws little crosses on the apples of her cheeks with a eyebrow pencil

Black Ink is chill with her. She can remove body parts and make humans look grotesque! I mean, it’s voluntary, but still! They’ve also been dating for a week, so there’s that too

Demencia adores what she can do. Body modifications?! Sign her up for teeth sharpening and tongue splitting!

Plug likes her. She was nice after he brought her a Java Juice cup, so yeah

8.9.8 doesn’t have an opinion on her. He’s just a dyed bear. But she likes him very much

[the-amour-scientia-series]

I don’t know what sent me to the meeting-place that day, because for once my visit was unannounced even to Eleazar. A pounding in my ears roared over the loading trucks' engines at the wharf, and the workmen who greeted my familiar figure were ignored. I couldn’t be blamed; the knots in my stomach had completely constricted my capacity for coherent thoughts, let alone coherent sentences. I walked past the industrial complex and was compelled to hurry. The crumbling Sillante outhouse, still dipping two of its posts into the water, seemed to be leaning closer to the edge than usual. The sight made me more breathless as if I’d been running. 

He gave a start as I almost fell through the doorway. A kind, heart-shaped face on a stocky body, Eleazar, for once, regarded me with silence. His wide, smiling eyes were intense with emotion; they burned across the small room. We stood there, transfixed—his back to the open water and my back to the open door.

I couldn't imagine what he saw through the doorway—a manic, desperate lover? A best friend needing comfort for the uncertain future? Whatever shock that must have registered on my face made him say nothing, smile sadly, and bite his lips. His posture was grave—defeated—but the glint in his eye made him seem more regretful than bitter. Like he had almost given up chasing a cat who kept jumping out of reach.

Except that, the cat had slunk back to him.

And yet he turned his back to me, back to the water, and sat cross-legged on the shed's narrow wraparound balcony. His light-caramel chopped hair was pulled back in a low tail—a notion that, I realized, was the mark of preparing boys for amour. The knot tightened in my chest; when did he finally accept this fate?

I took the unspoken invitation to join his solitude. Each step across the shed was loud in my ears, but it was a welcome distraction from that gilded red envelope bringing the dreaded news: an invitation that I crumpled immediately upon reading, and a love letter—a love letter from a stranger.

A part of me was already expecting it. To be sent to amour scientia with a familiar face was unheard of—if not discouraged. It would ruin the courtship process of firsts: love at first sight, first kiss, all that. Yet with a sinking feeling that labored my breathing even further, I never imagined having those firsts with anyone else but Eleazar Sillante.

Could this possibly be the amour without scientia?

I looked to his silent profile: eyes closed behind rectangular glasses, thick brows furrowed,  the same summer suit from yesterday. He was resting his chin on his knuckles like a child, too deep in thought to remain unremarkable. 

He spoke as I got settled beside him. "He's really smart, isn't he?"

The love letter sank deeper in my pocket. It was our partner's self-introduction, written in our own hands to feature whatever qualities we deemed attractive about ourselves. It didn't really matter what we wrote; the school could already find compatibilities based on every student's family background and disciplinary records. I penned mine in the most despicable way possible by talking about anything but myself: the slow country life, the inaccuracy of penmanship, the sheer incredulity that even a school for amour scientia could keep marriages together and unturbulent.

Unfortunately, Angelo Raphael Sorrell's letter was just as contemptuous. 

"Well," I told Eleazar, "if you think saying things like 'I'm sorry if this ends up in your hands' or 'not gonna lie, I don't know myself either' is a smart move, I guess it's better to call him an idiot."

He smirked, the tiny pull of a muscle on his cheek. "It sounds like something you would say."

"Really," I shot numbly, momentarily ripping my gaze from him. Words spilled out before I could stop them. "And I guess your match already knows you just as well?"

"She's a Monterizobel," he replied quietly. "Iris Felicity."

The dread just kept coming. Eleazar's favorite nonfiction had been locally distributed by the Monterizobels, being a family of book publishers and literary agents. His anti-academe parents had burned his secret collections in a bout of near-disownment, yet his high regard for the Monterizobels' journalism was never one I found the need to contest. 

"Ir—" her name stuck a lump in my throat. I couldn't even say it. "How is she?"

He leaned back, gazing out at the water. He might have been imagining her then, as he spoke with a hint of longing in his voice. "She used to dress up as a boy to avoid the scandal of being seen with her brother and his friends. She got away with a lot of troubles thanks to that," he chuckled dryly. "Reminds me of someone I know."

I looked at him. Andrew was my self-proclaimed pet name. It was a common childhood phase of disobedience, yet ultimately the last. Eleazar and I had shared those years in this slow tropical town. My American father, a politician, chose money and mistresses over my mother and my upbringing, and Eleazar was too antisocial to flirt as well as his amour-inclined family. The Sillante outhouse—our hideaway—was our true home.

For the last time.

Tomorrow, Angelo Raphael Sorrell will present himself to my family as a courtesy, afterward, I'll join his ride to meet his parents. Eleazar will do the same to his much-admired family of literary aficionados. The injustice of drawing the shorter straw curled my fingers into a fist—maybe if I took my love letter more seriously, I wouldn't be matched with someone as obviously unstable as myself. Nineteen years of growing up with this boy had changed me into someone I already loved—a Maiandra Michaelis that no classroom could ever mold. But Eleazar was a man now—Iris Monterizobel's man. 

Heat rose behind my eyes as I held back tears—of anger at the unquestionable compatibility of the amour matches, at my continued hesitation of believing that Eleazar was ever a perfect match for me. One year in amour scientia was designed to create happy, productive marriages that upheld the traditions of highest moral caliber, and the country's colonizer-ripped culture was desperate for such conservation. Whatever Eleazar and I shared was ancient, backward, and most of all, outdated. 

A tear must have broken through the dam, because Eleazar gently touched my cheek with his thumb. His expression was pained, made more palpable by his staggered breathing.

He placed his arm across my shoulder, and not a single cell in my body resisted his embrace.

By the time I found the courage to hold his hand, dusk had arrived and found us sobbing in the dark.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash