#him so i did and because i only saw and understood his very outer shell i was able to capture his voice very well

[kubb-is-a-swedish-lawn-game]

i've encountered a strange phenomenon in which it is easiest to write a character's voice the less you know and care about the inner workings of their mind

[weixuldo]

Allow me// ch 9

Vader x Reader

a/n: this ch is mostly for the purpose of furthering the connection btwn vader and the reader… lots of fluff (oops)

The mask finally comes off

warnings: cursing, anxiety, self hatred/loathing, cannon disabled character, emotional vulnerability

_____________________

The tension in the room was thick as he sat up to remove the final shell of his suit-

His helmet.

Vader’s heart was racing and he was sure his temperature regulating system was working overtime to make sure he wouldn’t overheat.

He was skeptical of your eagerness to see his unmasked face, did you have ulterior motives?

No, what was he thinking? 

He hadn’t shown himself to anyone in a very long time and he cared about you…so much. So he was afraid that- by showing himself to you- you would leave.

He did not think he would be able to handle it if you left him. 

But those same emotions were urging him to take it off- he wanted to share himself with you

And it was one of- if not the most intimate things he could give you. He felt so wanted by you that he would do anything you asked…

even this. 

So with a final deep breath he lifted his gloved hands to the sides of the outer shell of the helmet. 

Slowly his face was revealed; first you saw his nose- a paler color than you expected- but to be fair, he doesn’t really see much sun.

Then his eyes- the trademark piercing yellow of the Sith. They were much less intimidating than you expected, instead they looked scared. 

Finally he had the whole helmet off and held it in his lap. Your eyes widened as you observed his face: he was deathly pale, had no hair, his ears were basically just stubs, and scars littered his whole face.  

At first you were a little taken aback, only because you had no reference of what to expect, but as you continued gazing at his naked face you kept finding more and more that intrigued you.

His face told a story- a story of a man who had been through hell and yet still persevered. His scars looked like those of burns (which checked out because of the loss of hair and the withered ears).

His eyes were so captivating… you could hardly look away. 

You understood why he was nervous to show you, anyone else may have had a bad or even insulting reaction to his face. But you were so deeply invested in the man in front of you that nothing physical could change how you felt about him as a person.

You had feelings for Vader- not just the body he inhabited.

Even with all of his ‘flaws’ you could still tell how handsome he was; his jawline was strong, his eyes were beautiful, and his lips (no matter how scarred) still looked perfectly kissable.

His eyes scanned your face as you gazed over his features- what were you thinking… you had been staring a long time- you thought he was hideous, didn’t you. 

His yellow eyes twitched and narrowed for a moment before he spoke: “This was a mistake”.

He lifted his helmet and began to put it back on when you caught his hand. 

“Wait” you lowered his hands and he skeptically watched as you gently placed his helmet on the nightstand next to your bed. 

“What are you-” 

Soon his thoughts were interrupted by the warmth of your gentle hand on his scarred cheek. When was the last time he had felt something so tender on his own skin? 

You brushed your thumb up and down as he shakily breathed through his nose with closed eyes. This sensation felt so foreign yet so right to the Sith- he wished he could save this feeling forever. 

“y/n…” 

He slowly opened his eyes but you were surprised to see that they were no longer yellow, instead they were a captivating light blue. He blinked a few times and they began to tear up. 

“Here, let's take this off too” you said as you unclasped the bottom piece of his helmet in the back. 

You set it down as well and watched as his irises faded back into their standard yellow- interesting. 

“What are you thinking? I cannot read your force signature” he asked anxiously. 

Without a word you scanned his features once more before placing both of your hands on his face and drawing him in for a gentle kiss. 

He flinched at the sudden contact- it was not something he was used to. But once he realized you were willingly kissing him, he returned the favor. 

Your eyes fluttered open as you broke away.

Vader was at a loss for words; all he could do was bask in your perfect presence. 

“W-was that alright?” you asked, worried you had upset the man with your sudden kiss. 

His scarred bottom lip trembled as he answered, “more than”.

You kissed him once more and he reveled in the feeling of you smiling into his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist. 

After a while of admiring glances and soft kisses you leaned back into your pillows, inviting him to do the same.

Once the two of you were settled (he leaned against the headboard and pillows as you rested your head on his shoulder); you spoke again, “thank you, V”.

His brow arched as he tilted his head; some of his raised scarred skin pulled at the motion.

“For what my dear?”.

“For showing me your self, I know that wasn’t easy for you.” you smiled.

He nodded, “thank you for your kindness”.

You knew what he was referring to; what he really meant was ‘thank you for not running at the sight of my face’. 

“No need to thank me, I would never leave for such a miniscule reason” 

He hummed in response and gazed at the floor before asking, “is it…alright?”.

You reached for the hand that was idly lying in his lap and looked up at him.

“You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen”.

He looked away, “Please do not lie to me, y/n. It is cruel”.

Gently, you turned his face back to you and shook your head with an awed expression. 

“darling, I would never lie to you”.

His heart fluttered at the endearment. 

You kissed his forehead, his nose, and then finally his lips. 

He sighed and his eyes jumped between yellow and the light blue you had just recently discovered.

“A few months ago, I would have never imagined you would give me the privilege of looking upon your face” you said. 

“A few months ago, I wouldn’t have imagined that I would be showing myself to someone so…special,” he responded. 

With a small smile you thanked him. 

“For what?”

“For being vulnerable enough to be yourself with me. It means the galaxy to me V”

You saw an inkling of blush creep onto his scarred cheeks.

“I only opened up because I feel comfortable with you”.

You knew that was his way of telling you that he was just as grateful to you, for being as open as he was. 

His eyes drifted between your eyes and your lips until he initiated a kiss, much to your surprise.

It wasn’t as hesitant as the first; this one was sure and true- yet still tender and soft. 

It was perfect.

Afterwards he reclined and closed his eyes at the relieving sensation that washed over him; he felt light (not just because he didn’t have his troublesome armor on), he hadn’t felt this at ease since who knows when. 

All thoughts of his meeting with the emperor left his mind; all of his worries subsided.

Nothing could go wrong in this moment: he was in a comfortable bed, the air pressure allowed him to be without his helmet, you were at his side, and he just kissed you. 

Everything was right in the galaxy.

______________________________

Vader had to leave pretty early to go back to his own chambers and not long after, your work day (technically) started.

But of course with Vader as your boss, he gave you a pretty simple task so that you could finish early and take a well deserved nap. 

He was so thoughtful- you caught yourself throughout the day still amazed at the fact that you actually cultivated a relationship with the almighty Sith. All of your “unprofessional” thoughts (scandalous or not) weren’t just delusions…

The man you literally dreamt about was now coming to your room in the middle of the night!

It was crazy.

Vader’s agenda for the day was a bit different than yours; he was to have his audience with Palpatine (though he wasn’t quite sure what for).

Nevertheless, he headed into the throne room that Palpatine retired to once he arrived aboard the Executor; hopefully this would be quick. 

“You wanted to see me master?” Vader said, as he knelt before the Emperor.

“Yes” he hissed.

“I’ve heard that you have been entertaining a rebel… is this true?”.

Vader had enough experience masking his thoughts around his master after he disappointed him one too many times throughout the years. 

And he could lie well too.

“Those rumors must be just that… rumors. I have done nothing of the sort”. 

There was no way Palpatine would have evidence of his collaboration with Sabe. 

He no longer felt bad about lying to the man who was supposed to be on his side, after years of torment and belittling.

Vader had enough. 

Especially now that he had you; there was more to life than simply existing to carry out his master’s dark deeds.

Now there was a light at the end of the tunnel, someone to cherish and protect. 

“Ahh… I am pleased to hear these rumors are not true.” Palpatine said with a grotesque smile. 

“Is there anything else I may be assistance for?” Vader asked, hoping to leave soon.

“That is all for now, you may go apprentice”

Vader cringed at the title “apprentice”, but regardless- he bowed to the cloaked man and quickly headed out the door.

Hopefully that would take care of any more speculations (Plus all of that happened a while ago, no sense in digging up the past). 

***

a/n: just reminder, reader and V have not outright expressed their feelings yet, they’ve both said things but neither explicitly told the other what they want or how they feel… (we love emotionally constipated baddies). Also reminding-when I was saying “visits your room at night” I don’t mean in the sexual context- yes both parties are physically attracted to eachother, but this story is more rooted in deep emotions and the psychology of a relationship rather than just smex. 

taglist: @vadersassistant @sxoulohvn @khaleesihavilliard @kashasenpai @darling-murdock @beautifulbearpolice @salvatoresister1 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @blueninjablade3 @jujuba096 @missmannequin @jellydodger @mirastark @wyvernthekriger @duckyhowls @monada43 @lauriidoesstuff @vienettacream @ray-rook @itswhatever06 @ilovenielperry

[kimageddon]

A Prince of Dathomir - Chapter 95

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Maul x Nightsister OC (Zaiya Valessa) - Slight Canon Divergence - Prince of Dathomir Masterlist

Word count: Approx 3600 Contains/Warnings: Violence, death, blood, injury, self doubt, negative self-talk, intense negative emotions Chapter Summary: Zaiya and her ARC Troopers face the invaders and Sith Assassin Ventress Notes: Strap yourselves it... this one hurts. (More notes at the end)

Mistakes - Part 1

Alarms were blaring, the screams of metal deafening. The very outer shells of Tipoca City’s pod-like domes were being torn and ripped apart by squid-shaped ships, latching to the side and drilling a central pointed pillar down into the building as though juicing a ripe fruit. 

Alpha heard voices in his comms; the Generals, and Ver’alor Siren. She’d known something would happen, like some kind of fortune teller. He’d seen enough of her power to trust her and back her up. He’d seen her in battle. She fought like some kind of demon, like she was invincible. As though blaster bolts might just bounce off her. Even though he knew they didn’t. 

She’d taken a shot for him once. The Captain had also seen the injury report after her three day incarceration by the Seppies. That had taken some intimidation to get a copy, Siren had not wanted anyone to see it. But he saw the scans. She’d nearly died. She was reckless and angry. She was as fierce as the rancors she claimed to hunt. 

Alpha had never felt more safe with her at his back. He hadn’t thought much of her at first, but after seeing her determination; the way she had changed tactics when her training methods caused more harm than help. He was convinced. This outsider… though she may have started as such… she was now one of them. And he was not about to let her down. 

The gruff Captain relayed orders as the City shook around them. He had a company of ARC Troopers with him, along with the four unique clones that had adopted the nickname “Bad Batch”. They were young but he had seen them work. Not only did Siren pride them as her best students, they were just as determined as she was. They were also ready to join the fight. Like his chance had come in the last invasion, he believed theirs would come today.

There wasn’t much in the way of protection in the smooth white hallways, so the boys had dragged out tables, crates and anything else they could use to provide some form of cover. They were all positioned, waiting for the enemy to arrive.  

He stood at the ready when he heard footsteps. Fast, light and growing louder. The men around him tensed as they heard it but he waved a hand. 

“Stand down,” he murmured in what was almost a grunt. 

“Sir?” asked Caboose, from behind him. A few moments later, the woman herself flew around the corner, her braids, coat and red sash a flurry behind her. Her pace slowed as she approached, her breathing a little heavier. 

“How did you know?’ another Trooper named Sol asked. Alpha smirked. 

“We’ve been workin’ together for so long, if I didn’t recognise her steps by now I oughta be demoted!” Siren flashed a grin at them, hearing the comment. He’d warned her not to smile like that, it made the men practically moon over her because of it. Even he had to admit, her smile was stunning. Even he wasn’t immune, but he was not about to ever let that slip. 

“I’m flattered you pay so much attention to me, Captain,” she said as she drew nearer. “I might start thinking you like me or something.” Alpha almost scoffed. If only she knew or understood how “liked” she was. She didn’t seem to see it. At first he thought it was deliberate, but she seemed utterly confused by any form of affection. 

He felt a little bad for the silver-haired twig. Alpha had noticed that the cadet sniper was almost floating any time she walked in the room. He was not as subtle about it as he thought. Alpha had to roll his eyes. 

“Not a chance,” the Captain smirked back. She just laughed. The tense mood among the men lifted a little, only for another jolt through the entire facility had many of them sprawling. The zabrak woman gave a growl and Alpha could not help but mirror her feelings. Both of them wanted to be on the front lines. 

“We have incoming,” Hunter said suddenly, and pointed to a hallway to their right. It was then they heard the steps of droids filling the halls. A sound that still gave Alpha nightmares after the first invasion. Now it was happening again. 

“Here we go, boys,” Siren muttered, her gaze hard as she drew those long curved knives. He didn’t know how she did it, but the blades ignited into a bright green flame, much like her eye. Alpha swore  he saw a wicked little grin on her lips, moments before she charged. 

----

Maul had managed to stagger to his feet, slowly, he had pushed himself to walk, and through sheer force of will, he was moving forward. Slow progress around the room when suddenly the whole room shook. He barely managed to catch himself in time, one foot slamming into the ground and sending shocks of pain all the way up. It took everything in him not to scream. 

He needed to know what was happening. Scanning the room, he spotted a terminal on the far console and made his way over, his steps far slower than he would like. Sitting didn’t hurt as much, it seemed, though it was still uncomfortable. 

He began to tap through the controls in order to find some form of assessment on the situation. Maul was no expert, and he had not had to break into such a system in a very long time, but his memories were intact enough that he could recall how to do it. 

After only a few minutes there was a schematic pulled up on the holoprojector and he could see a red flashing warning about a breach. Strange ships shaped like some kind of sea-dwelling creature appeared to be attached to the sides of several of the buildings of the city. 

They were under attack, Zaiya was right in her apprehension… it seemed her senses were incredibly well-attuned to the Force and its visions. 

Now he had to find her. There were small dots on the map in various points, reaching in to tap one, he discovered they were surveillance locations and he could see what was happening. It took some time, but finally a flash of a while braid on one of the feeds drew his attention. His yellow eyes focused on her, standing among a group of mostly identical men… aside from four individuals just behind her. 

She carried herself well, her back straight and head high, the men seemed to be watching her, as though waiting for instructions. She wore power like a cloak, he could almost see it. 

Suddenly one of the men, a shorter individual with longer hair pointed and the entire group seemed to tense. Maul watched as Zaiya dropped into a defensive stance and he couldn’t help but smirk. He was looking forward to watching her destroy everything in her path.

----

Zaiya was like a wraith. She had not mastered the magick of teleportation as some of her Sisters had. But she was fast enough that it mattered little. With a few rapid steps she had met the battledroids in the hall, slicing down the first one before they could even fire off the first shot. 

A hail of blaster fire exploded from the droids, each of them walking forward in regimented lines, as though they were all a part of the same machine. 

[Hangar 7 is breached! The droids are everywhere!] she heard through the comm, a quick glance told her it was Havoc’s frequency. 

“Keep your head down! Fall back to better cover!” Zaiya cried, a tightness in her chest. It was then she heard another voice, a soft one she recognised. 

[I-I came to help…!]

[Ninety-Nine get to cover!] Havoc retorted. [This is no place for--arrgh!] Zaiya heard the sound of a thud and a cry of distress. 

“Havoc?” she called. “Havoc!” She cut down the droid closest to her as she strained to hear the comm. 

[...s-sorry, Ver’alor…] She heard Havoc groan, [I don’t think… I can--]

“HAVOC!” she cried. The line went dead and she knew, even without seeing him, that he was too. Her chest felt tight and the nearest droid was suddenly destroyed with her fist through its power bank on its chest. She screamed a vicious word in her native tongue. She should have been there. She should have stopped them! 

“A-all teams, regroup to cover,” she managed to say into the open channel. Her hearts ached. She shouldn’t be here. She should be at the front, facing the sith assassin Ventress and ensuring more of her -- of the clones did not perish unnecessarily.

[Anakin and I are on the way,] she heard Kenobi’s irritating voice through the comms. [I will engage General Grievous near the barracks, and Anakin will join you in the DNA room.]

“Understood,” was all Zaiya could manage. 

There was pain in her, and she did the only thing she could think of… what both Talzin and Maul had taught her to do. She dropped into it, feeding off it, letting her pain twist into rage that would allow her to fight harder, and destroy every one of these worthless pathetic walking scrap piles! 

With a snarl her blazing green mila hanska drove deep into the chassis of the nearest two droids and she whirled, cleaving them in twain as she dropped into a defensive stance. If Grievous was headed for the barracks, then Ventress was on her way here. 

Finally. 

Zaiya would be able to face her, bring her to heel and destroy another of Sidious’ pawns. The less power Sidious held, the better. The more she thought about them, these enemies of hers… the angrier she got. 

She could hear the shouts from her men behind her, and the Force hummed in warning. With a gasp, she darted to the left, swinging her blade upward, narrowly able to deflect a blast and glanced back to where it would have gone had she not been paying attention. Tech blinked at her owlishly for a moment and she offered a nod which he returned. She heaved a sigh of relief and returned to the battle. 

“Has anyone got eyes on Ventress?!” she called into the comm as another wave of battle droids and destroyers  came thundering towards them. 

[Ver’alor! She’s infiltrated the city! My men and I have engaged!] It was Colt, and he sounded breathless. If she was there, and Skywalker was not--

“Colt, pull back! Get your men out of there!” Zaiya cried, as fear clawed its way up the inside of her throat. “That’s an order!” 

But it was too late.

There were screams, blasterfire and then the buzz of a lightsaber. 

Then nothing.

“Someone talk to me! What’s happening down there?!” the Nightsister roared. There was some static and then-- 

[This is Corporal Sands… Colt… is dead. Ventress got him, through the heart with her saber, I only saw a glimpse as we retreated.] His voice was heavy and once again Zaiya found breathing difficult. Two of her ARCs now… and she could not protect them. 

“Regroup with us Corporal…” she said hoarsely. The comm disconnected and she let out a scream of rage. The sound was like some kind of ethereal howl; the utter force of it mixed with her power and one of the droids was sent stumbling back, sparks flying from its audio processors. 

There was a lull in battle, the remainder of Colt’s men diverted to support other areas and she heard through the chatter that Cody and Rex had reached the barracks, and met up with Fives, Echo and Ninety Nine. Apparently some wayward cadets had gotten lost and ended up there too. She didn’t know how, they weren’t supposed to be there! Colt’s men were unable to provide back up, having pulled back from that location and Zaiya felt her throat tighten. She gave the order for them to make their way back as soon as possible, though they were pinned by more droids. 

Kenobi had apparently engaged Grievous, but Zaiya has seen neither hide nor hairless head of the traitorous Sister of hers. But neither had she seen Skywalker. Her heart thrummed in her chest and it was as though there were sparks of electricity under her very skin. 

It was in this moment that Alpha approached, while the others were quickly patched up. She had not lost any men, thank the Winged Goddess, but they weren’t out of the swamp yet, so to speak. The clone Captain, somehow seeming broader and larger than all his brothers, came to her side and laid a big broad hand on her shoulder. 

“Need you to focus, Siren,” he said quietly. Her head snapped to face him and she barely suppressed a growl. 

“You think I am distracted, Captain?” she snapped. More of an accusation than a question. In the back of her mind she realised how she sounded just like someone else she knew. But she could not think of that now. 

“You can mourn later,” he pressed, undeterred by her tone. He was right as per usual. She was seething and grieving on the inside, but it did little to aid her right now. No, she needed to focus in the right direction, let the pain make her senses shaper, not duller. She met his dark eyes for a long moment before giving a slight nod. 

In his eyes it was obvious he felt the same pain, the same rage. Those were his brothers and batchmates slain. His kin. His pain probably eclipsed hers. She had to be Ver’alor first, and big sister second. It still didn’t sit right with her. 

“Skywalker, come in, where are you?” Zaiya asked suddenly into her communicator. This brief respite would not last long. 

[I’m-- being held up…!] the Jedi grunted back in exertion, she could hear the sounds of battle through the tiny speaker. [I’m nearly there, any sign of her?]

“Negative,” she replied. 

[Good, if she does, don’t engage, you can’t handle her alone,” Skywalker began but Zaiya made a sound of indignation.

“We’re in position, we must protect the DNA room. If she--” Zaiya cut off as she spotted a figure appear around the hallway. “Guns up!” she cried and gave one last response into the comm. “Target approaching.” 

Asajj Ventress held a deactivated saber in each hand as she sauntered closer to the troupe. Zaiya quickly stepped to the front, feeling Alpha bristle with a deep rage… and a little fear just behind her. She could say nothing to him for the moment, her attentions levelled at the other Nightsister. 

“So, we meet again, little witch,” she drawled and Zaiya’s tattooed lip curled in revulsion. Ventress said it as though she looked down on her, a smug arrogance that Zaiya recognised. It was something uniquely Sith. 

“Indeed,” Zaiya replied flatly, not sure where she got ‘little’ from as Zaiya was easily the same height as her and more built in frame than the willowy Ventress. 

“Are you going to run away like a coward again?” Ventress’s voice was dripping with venom. 

“That would not suit my purposes this time, assassin,” Zaiya spat back. The bald woman ignited her scarlet lightsabers, a cruel grin crossing her lips. 

“Then this might actually be fun.”

Ventress was on Zaiya a second later and Zaiya met her strikes with her own ceremonial blades. They might not have been lightsabers but the fire pouring into them though her nexus powers stayed the plasma blades and met them in a vicious hiss. The clones opened fire as Ventress dodged a counter slash at her middle. A second later-- a battalion of droids appeared around the corridor, where Ventress had come from. 

The white haired zabrak spun out of the path of one blade, striking upward with her dominant hand. Only for Ventress to block it and push her back. She could feel rage bleed through the Force from the other woman and Zaiya’s only increased. 

How dare Ventress feel such rage! For what? She had caused so much pain, so much loss and tragedy and violence. All she lost in this war was droids! Zaiya had lost friends! Had lost years of her life because of the Sith! How dare this Ventress claim such power through anger! She did not deserve it! 

What had she to be angry about?! Losing a droid?! It was absurd to Zaiya in that moment that Asajj Ventress would have the right to feel anything at all, let alone using her hatred in order to give herself power! It was vile! 

[This is Captain Rex of the 501st battalion.] His voice was measured in her ear as she dodged another blow. [Commander Cody and I are in trouble, we need backup!] There was a strain to his voice that made her chest tighten again. 

[Corporal Sands… how far away are you?] Alpha’s voice spoke through the comm channel as she blocked another blow from Ventress that nearly took one of her braids off. 

[We’re pinned down! Until we push these clankers back, we aren’t going anywhere!] Sands replied and Zaiya cursed under her breath. Ventress laughed at her. 

“What’s the matter? Are your little Republic pets dying as they were bred to do? Pathetic!” she sneered and Zaiya let out a scream of outrage, shoving her back, the green flames flickering and sparking in Ventress’ face. She reeled back with a snarl and Zaiya began to advance.

Again and again Zaiya struck, her blades glancing off the lightsaber beam and sparking a mix of scarlet and neon green. The white haired Nightsister’s face a twisted vision of rage. She had Ventress on the defensive, pushing her back. She was only vaguely aware of Skywalker informing her he had to defer to stop part of one of the pods collapsing. It was all just noise to her at that point. Ventress grit her teeth but Zaiya’s attack was too strong, her emotions fuelling her, guiding her strikes. 

Then she heard the comm again.

[We’re holding, but low on ammo-- if we can--] she heard a soft warm voice in the background, full of excitement, loud enough to hear he would get them more ammunition, then getting quieter. 

Zaiya felt like she had been struck. 

No.

[Ninety-Nine!] she heard Rex scream, the comm left on in his distraction. She moved out of instinct, and barely blocked the attack that did strike her. One of Ventress’ lightsabers slashed her across the thigh as the other was held by her blades -- burning against her shoulder, barely having stopped herself from being decapitated. Her jacket was burning where the plasma blade strained, too close to her, her skin blistering beneath. 

But it was nothing as she heard the screams of Cody, Fives and Rex, trying to rouse Ninety-Nine from where he had presumably fallen. 

Fallen, and would not wake. 

Zaiya felt it… a ripple through the Force as she too dropped. Ventress flung her back and she hit the wall, her head cracked on the white wall, something warm seeped over her skull and under her hair. The world went hazy, and for a moment she couldn’t see. She didn’t even hear the screams from the others as she slumped against the wall. 

She felt him fade. 

The sweetest, kindest and most gentle person she had ever met… fading from this world and into the Living Force. Of all the people that may or may not have deserved death… not him. Not Ninety-Nine. 

All the times they had spoken, had tea, chatted while working, or while she trained… all those moments flashed in her mind. Of all the beings in the Galaxy that should die before her. That should suffer such a fate instead of her. After all she had done. 

It wasn’t supposed to be him. It wasn’t supposed to be Ninety-Nine. Her teeth grit and heat burned its way up her spine. She couldn’t protect him. She didn’t save him. Yet another that was taken from her. Another that did not deserve the life that was given. Another star --bright in the darkness of this cruel galaxy-- that was snuffed out too soon. 

Her breathing was laboured, her chest heaved. Mismatched eyes rolled and closed, there was a warm hand shaking her but she could barely feel it.

Failure. 

Yet again. She didn’t save him. Any of them. Just watched as he was taken away. She didn’t-- but she could avenge him. 

Zaiya’s eyes shot open. The world went still and silent. 

“Where?” she hissed, a low growl as her eyes snapped to Alpha. The big clone jerked back slightly at the molten heat of her gaze. 

“What--?” he began, then returned to the moment. “She got past us, she took the DNA canister, she’d headed back to the hangar!” 

Zaiya stood and shrugged off Alpha’s hand to help her up. The sound that escaped her was like an animal’s snarl. She walked forward toward the hangar, as more droids appeared. 

“What are you going to do?” It was Wrecker’s voice, speaking to her through the comm. She paused in place and turned back. Her expression was distant, disgusted with everything, though it softened slightly as she looked at her comrades. 

“What I should have done from the beginning,” she growled and threw out a hand toward the droids. A wave through the Force and they were all thrown back, shattering to pieces as she stalked down the corridor. She paid no attention to the gasps and shock behind her. She had a witch to slaughter.

Notes: Hello my lovelies! …please don't hate me. This is a painful one. T^T I contemplated changing their destinies but it kind of felt necessary for the plot and character development. It hurt me tooooooo T^T

Next week in Part 2 we shall see if Zaiya catches up to Ventress and whether she will be in trouble for using the Force. Do you think anyone noticed? … They might have noticed. <.<

As for me, I am still writing away and drawing as well of course, I am very excited for the upcoming chapter 100, I have had one or two questions come in but please, if you have any, leave them in a comment and I will answer it in a special post when chapter 100 comes out! Even if it's a small one, I'd love to hear it! I always love any comments, questions or not so if you are able please please, leave me a comment or feedback! I love love love hearing what you have to say.

I think that's all I need to say for this week, so until then, hope you are all happy and well! <3

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[devil-in-those-eyes]

A Break(Up)? Mat Barzal

Wow, okay, so I thought about this last night and it turned out to be a lot more angsty than i thought it would be. Hope you enjoy!

~

           You weren’t really sure how you and Mat got to this point, you haven’t even been dating that long but the fight was something else. You and Mat never seemed to fight, but then it meant all your past problems seemed to fester and roll into this big row. You didn’t mean for it to happen and you kept asking yourself how you got to this point. Thinking back on it, you understood where he was coming from, but now you weren’t angry, instead you were heartbroken because you didn’t know if the relationship could be saved.

           As you stood in your kitchen, you could hear the fight begin all over again. It was loud and heartbreaking from the very beginning, unsure of how it even started the tears breached your eyes but it didn’t stop Mat in his tracks, it just made him fight harder.

           You followed him from his bedroom and into the family room, his suitcase rolling behind him as he walked in his suit. “Mat, just stop.” You begged.

           “Christ, Y/N, she’s just an old friend!” Mat blew up, tossing his bag of gear by the door and turning to face you.

           “She’s an ex-girlfriend, not a friend!” You argued. “And you’re going out of your way to see her!”

           Mat rubbed his forehead, groaning. You stood there, worry building inside your stomach because Mat didn’t tell you, no you found out because she texted him saying she cant wait to see him. You didn’t believe Mat would have told you and that was continually hitting you square in the chest. You knew Mat wouldn’t cheat, but it made you wonder if he was unhappy in the relationship and it was making you second guess everything.

           Eventually, Mat looked up at you. There was sadness inside his eyes and his jaw unclenched as he watched you reach up and quickly wipe at a tear. “Maybe we should take a break.”

           His words hit you like a ton of bricks. A break?

           “When I come home, we can talk.” Mat breathed.

           You tightened your jaw until it hurt, looking to your left and at anything but him. What could you possibly say? You didn’t want a break, but you weren’t going to keep showing him weakness. Not when he had a pretty blonde waiting for him in Vancouver.

           Mat lingered for a second, waiting for you to respond. Wondering if he made the right choice, but seeing you standing there and looking so small in his blue Islanders shirt made him want to ditch the road trip coming up and stay here with you.

           Eventually, he moved. He took his bags and was out the door.

           To you, a break meant break up. Especially when you haven’t really spoken to Mat. His trip was only a week and a half long, but you visited his apartment to get his mail and when he texted you, asking if you had, you answered simply with one words. You didn’t want to think about him visiting his ex-girlfriend, and how seeing her might be the grass is greener on the other side. But you figured since neither of you talked about the fight, he didn’t call and you certainly didn’t, you figured it might really be over between the two of you.

           Your friends told you to just wait until he came home, urging you to just pick up the phone but what did you really do in the first place to deserve a break(up)? You asked him if he was really thinking of seeing his ex-girlfriend and then it started in on how he had no space. You two didn’t live together and for the most part you only stayed over on his rare days off.

           Despite the two of you maybe over, you got together with the other WAGs to watch the last game of the road trip. They ended it with a game in New York, playing against the Rangers. You didn’t tell anyone what happened, but they could tell something was up, especially when you stayed quiet when they were all swapping stories of what the boys had gotten up too.

           You felt like you were just walking around life. You went to work, went home and hit the repeat button. You just wanted Mat to be happy and you prayed that it was you he would be happy with, but if it wasn’t, you didn’t want to stand in the way.

           Maybe you two were moving too fast. You were twenty-four and he was a year younger, he was a hockey player and gorgeous. Maybe he should be out exploring life with other women, instead of planning for a future with you. You held back the tears when the realization hit you, watching Mat skate around and play the game that ended up being his life.

           When you got home, you held the tears back until you got into bed. It took you a long while until you stopped crying and your body gave into exhaustion.

~~

           “You going home to Y/N?” Tito asked after him and Mat walked out of the arena and to the bus that’s been carting them from city and city and would bring them back to their own arena, where their cars have been sitting.

           Mat felt his chest collapse in on itself when he remembered what he was going home too. He had been praying since the moment he left Long Island that you would at least stay at his apartment while he was gone, and the more the hours ticked into days the more he wished he was coming home too you.

           “Yeah, Grace said Y/N was at her place, watching the game.” His reasoning was that his place was closer to Anders than your own.

           In all honesty, the second he walked out of his apartment, dropping a bomb in your face, he texted his ex-girlfriend and cancelled on her. For a few days, he was carrying around the weight of what happened, but then that weight brought itself into the games and he just couldn’t get his head in it. It was then that his captain pulled him aside and made him talk about it. It was a long talk and after, Mat felt better but he didn’t know how to make things better with you.

           He didn’t know how to bring up what happened, so he settled for asking if you would bring up his mail whenever you had time to swing over. He asked silly questions, things he knew didn’t matter but he was looking for any reason to talk to you, but your replies were short and distant and you didn’t pick up the one time he tried to facetime you.

           When he walked through the door of his apartment, it was too quiet. Normally, if you were there he walked into warmth. The apartment would smell like the dinner you made, the lingering scents of coffee, maybe even an uncorked half bottle of wine. Instead, your shoes weren’t at the door. Your keys weren’t hanging up and his doorman told him he hadn’t seen you in days.

           Mat walked further into his apartment and found a cream basket sitting on the coffee table, the only light came from the kitchen, but from what he could make out, it was his things. Three sweatshirts, ones he gave to you because he knew you’d get more use out of them. A few ties he had been missing and wondering where they went, forgetting he left them at your apartment. And his cologne he kept there for nights you missed him while he was away and for when he slept over at your place.

           This was you returning his items.

           This was you taking the break as a breakup.

           Losing you suddenly felt more real to him, you had been slipping through his fingers before he even had the chance to try and hold on to you. Mat felt like the apartment was closing in on him, his heart shattering into a million pieces. He could no longer wait until the next day, he didn’t care that it was 1 in the morning.

           None of it mattered if it meant losing you, all because he was an idiot. Mat rushed out of his apartment and got into his car, taking the fifteen minute drive to your place. He didn’t mean for seeing his ex-girlfriend to be a problem for you, nor did he feel like you were suffocating him in the relationship when he reminded himself of the nights he secretly wished for you to be more clingy. He took your cool and self assured outer shell for granted, believing it was okay, when he should have known that reconnected with an ex and not warning your current girlfriend was a huge fat no.

           By the time he was banging on your door, tears filled his eyes. He couldn’t stop feeling like he was going to faint. He didn’t care if he woke up the whole building, he was seeing you, even if someone called the cops on him.

~~

           The banging wouldn’t stop and for a while, you thought it was your headache, but when you rolled over, you realized the banging wasn’t in your head and it sounded like your front door was going to fly off the hinges.

           Thinking it was an emergency, whether it was family or a friend it didn’t matter, but you flew out of bed. Snatching a sweatshirt off the floor and running to the front door. You unlocked it and ripped it open, but what you saw in front of you stole your breath away.

           Mat was panting, like he just ran thirty miles. His eyes were rimmed with red and his cheeks were pale.

           “Mat, what’s wrong?” you asked, just shocked to see him at two in the morning.

           “You’re not leaving me.” he stated, shaking his head. “You’re not.”

           “Mat,” you started.

           “I don’t want a break, I don’t want a break up, I don’t want you to pack up my things and give them back to me. I don’t want to be strangers with you, I don’t want,” Mat’s voice broke and he cut himself off.

           Your own tears filled your eyes and you squeezed the doorknob to keep yourself grounded. You didn’t have any time to prepare for Mat as he stepped into you and grabbed the back of your thighs, squeezing them until they wrapped around his waist and he dug his face into your neck.

           A quiet sob raced out of your mouth as you wrapped your arms around his neck, one of his hands touching the small of your back. Your fingers dug into his long hair and you felt him shiver into your body, his breath tickling your skin.

           “I love you, baby.” He whispered into your neck, holding you as all the other emotions rippled through you. “I’m never letting you go.”

           “Don’t walk away from me again,” you whimpered, getting shirt damp with tears.

           Mat pulled his head back and touched his palm to your cheek, wiping at the tears the way he wanted too 10 days ago. His heart broke at the sight of you, eyes swollen and crying, lip worried raw. “I’ll never do it again, I promise.”

           You nodded and Mat leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth. When you pulled back, you dug yourself into his neck again, squeezing his body. Mat stepped further into your apartment and kicked your door shut.

           “You gonna let me stay the night?” He asked, reaching and flicking the lock over after realizing neither one of you wanted to let go.

           “You can stay forever.” You grumbled, your words muffled by his skin.

           Mat smiled softly to himself, heading towards your bedroom. “I’ll take you up on that invitation.”

[ptersparkers]

boston

summary: as a recurring visitor from boston to the outer banks and one of kiara’s childhood friends, you get to know the pogue gang for the summer. oh, and it seems like jj has a thing for you.

warnings: mentions of alcohol and typos, probably.

a/n: i hope boston doesn’t throw people off because i used it as nickname (i think it’s cute). and im not even from boston. ALSO WTF THIS IS 4K WORDS.

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this is my gif, please credit if using!

You’re starting to think that coming to North Carolina for the summer wasn’t as fun as you remembered. 

The water touched your fingertips as you leaned away from the boat, sticking your hand out to dip it into the cold water. It was too humid for you, for starters. You were used to the colder weather of Boston and often found yourself in long sleeves and jeans with boots with an extra sweater in your car. When it got warm, a pair of leggings and a t-shirt sufficed. North Carolina’s outer banks required swimming suits, shorts, and see-through shirts in order to avoid overheating. That wasn’t exactly your style. 

Your parents insisted on having you do something with your summer instead of lounging around and hanging out with people you’d see on a daily basis during the school year. There wasn’t much to do here other than drink and help your relatives on the boat with their fishing company, and the idea of working for free didn’t seem so amazing as it did when you were a child. This was the first summer you’d be spending in the outer banks for the entirety. While you and your parents travelled here for a few weeks, you were the only one staying behind until it was time to go back for school.

In all honesty, you hadn’t recalled much about the place nor the people who lived here. You were aware of the “Kooks” and “Pogues,” and the unofficial war raging between the two groups. What you gathered was that your family lived civilly between the two, not quite in either territory. If you weren’t mistaken, you were welcomed on either side of the island without drawing too much attention to yourself. 

Kiara, or Kie, who was your childhood best friend, was the only person you were even remotely close to, and that was overstating it. She resembled the summer camp friend who you barely spoke to until it was time to go away for summer camp. She lived in Figure Eight but hung with the Pogue crowd, from what you understood. 

You recalled meeting her for the first time at age eleven, the first time your family had made it a tradition to travel to North Carolina. Your family had wandered to The Wreck, the restaurant her family owned, and became friends because you were the only child in the building and her father had forced her to escape from her shell of a bedroom and spend some time outside. Eleven-year-old you was ecstatic to find another person to spend your summers with, and thus a friendship was born.

“Y/N, you okay there?” your uncle had asked. Pulling yourself out of your daydreams, you whipped your head back and wiped your hand on your shorts. 

“I’m fine, Uncle Jim. Just thinking, is all,” you replied. Uncle Jim laughed and pulled the rope from out of the water and asked you to open the ice bin for him to put the fresh fish he had caught. 

“Special order for the Camerons,” he explained. “Ward offered to pay me double if we could have this in by this afternoon.” 

“So that’s why you pulled me out of bed so early,” you teased. “Mom and dad just left and you’re already putting me to work.” 

You closed the ice chest and watched as Uncle Jim put away the cage neatly in the back before wiping his hands on a white cloth towel. 

“You know this job like the back of your hand. Might as well put you to good use.” 

“Yeah,” you said, sighing. “It’s weird being here without them.” 

“Good weird or bad weird?” 

You shrugged. “It’s just different.” 

“I know you wanted to spend your summer in Boston, but your Aunt Camille and I are happy you’re staying until September.” You smiled and gave him a side hug. 

“Yeah, I’m happy to see you two. It’s just that I’m growing up and want to spend time with my friends before we all leave to college, you know?” Uncle Jim started to steer the boat top the main land and nodded. 

“I hear ya. Mind dropping the fish off at the Cameron residence after I clean it up?” 

You shook your head and watched as the island grew bigger as the boat approached the dock. When Uncle Jim docked the boat, you jumped out and told him you’d be getting a bite at The Wreck, hoping to see if Kiara happened to be working. The door chimed and you could see a few people seated at tables with she was preparing smoothies behind the juice bar. 

“You always look like you’re thinking so deeply,” you said, taking a seat at the bar. 

Kiara looked up and dropped the banana she was holding and wiped her hand on a towel, the biggest smile painting her lips as she ran behind the bar to embrace you. You laughed and reciprocated, giving her a gentle squeeze as she held you in a near lockdown. 

“Two years, Y/N. It’s been two very long years,” she said. 

“I wish I could’ve stayed longer last summer,” you said. “My grandpa called us to say my grandma had broken her hip and we flew out the next morning.”

“Is she okay?” she asked. 

You nodded. “I think he was just scared but it was probably for the best that we went back home.”

“So I hear you’ll be here for the whole summer, right? I heard our dads talking last night.” 

“I can’t tell whether I’m excited about that or not. Happy to be here with you but not happy about working on a fishing boat. You know how sensitive my stomach is.” Kiara laughed and walked back behind the bar, resuming making the smoothie she had halted to welcome you. 

“Don’t I know it. Well, when you and I aren’t working we can hang out and I can introduce you to my friends,” she said. “I think you’d really like them.”

“God, I hope so. I’m gonna need friends if I’m going to be here for three months.” 

“John B’s kind of like our ring leader,” she explained before turning the blender on. She poured the drink and continued. “He’s kind of like you. A little mischievous but he’s keen for leadership. Pope’s the smart aleck. He knows everything about anything and overthinks when we do something spontaneous.” Kiara gave you a look. 

“That’s because my parents were always here!” you said in mock defense, raising your hands. 

Kiara laughed. “Then there’s Sarah, who you met before. She’s cool though, not like her Kook friends. We weren’t friends before you left. Then there’s JJ. He’s kind of all over the place and there’s not really a way I can describe him. You just have to experience him for yourself.” 

“As long as I have a fun summer without getting in trouble, I think I’ll be fine,” you said. 

“Smoothie?” Kiara asked. You nodded and took out your wallet, but she shook her head. 

“I’m pretty sure my dad would bite my head off if you paid for anything here,” she said. “Your mom did help advertise for us.” 

“How about a tip,” you said, putting a five dollar bill into a glass jar. Kiara rolled her eyes but grinned. 

“The Pogues and I are gonna hang out on Pope’s boat, if you wanna come. We’re just gonna hang out and eat, probably.”

“I’ll have to ask my uncle but I’m sure he’ll be fine with it,” you said, taking a sip of your smoothie. 

“It really was nice getting to see you again,” Kiara said. “I think you’re probably my only other girl friend, aside from Sarah. God knows a girl needs her time away from testosterone.” 

“I’m gonna be at Sarah’s later this afternoon to drop off some fish. I think her dad paid a lot of money for it, and I will never understand that.” 

She laughed. “Well with that kind of money, I guess you wouldn’t need to think twice about paying for fish.” 

You hopped off of the seat and waved goodbye before heading home. 

***

When the sky turned into a shade of deep orange, you double checked to see that your phone was fully charged before slipping on your shoes and grabbing a blanket plus the bag of snacks you had purchased earlier that day. You waved at Uncle Jim and Aunt Camille, promising them you’d be safe with Kiara before you locked the front door and slipped the keys into your bag. 

From your recollection, Pope’s boat was fairly large and Kiara told you it would have lights strung up so it wouldn’t be too hard to miss. The dock was quiet with the exception of fireflies buzzing in the air and the faint sound of laughter in the distance. 

You could see a group of boys and Kiara lounging around with beer in their hands and you were unsure of how to approach them. Luckily, Kiara saw you in the corner of her eye and rushed down to greet you. 

“Thank God you’re here,” she said. “Boys are annoying and I need some company. Here, let me get your bag.” 

You handed her the bag and climbed onto the boat, aware of three pairs of eyes following you. Suddenly feeling a little self conscious about yourself, you waved awkwardly at the three boys. 

“Don’t be weird, you guys,” Kiara said, rolling her eyes. “That’s Pope. Brains of our operation. You two are more alike, I think.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, tipping his hat at you.

“That’s John B,” she said as you waved at him. “He’s kinda of like you when you start talking about something you’re passionate about.” You began to blush at how Kiara was introducing you to her friends. 

“Any friend of Kiaras is a friend to us,” he said, grinning. 

“And that’s JJ,” she said, pointing at the blonde who was too busy looking at you to speak. “He’s, well, JJ.”

He scoffed. “These two get great introductions and I get ‘that’s JJ’?” he asked, using his fingers as faux quotation marks. Kiara shrugged. 

“I happen to think I’m great, thank you very much,” he said sarcastically before winking at you. You gave him a soft grin and sat next to her, unfolding the blanket and placing yourself on it. 

“And this is Y/N Y/L/N, probably the smartest one out of the five of us. She’s from Boston and comes here every summer with her parents.” 

“It’s usually for a week or two to visit my aunt and uncle but this time I’m spending the entire summer here,” you explained. 

“Why’s that?” asked Pope. 

“My parents thought it would be good to not spend my time indoors and God knows my uncle will put me to work.”

“She’s Jim’s niece,” Kiara said. 

John B’s eyes lit up. “Jim’s niece! That’s right, I remember he said you were coming to work for him this summer. He’s such a legend. How he and Camille live between us and the Kooks is beyond me. Love that guy.”

You beamed, opening a bag of popcorn. “He’s pretty great, isn’t he?”

“So how’d you and Kiara meet?” JJ asked. 

“We were the only kids in The Wreck when it first opened,” she said. “Dad forced me to go outside and Y/N’s parents forced her to do the same and we just clicked.” 

“So what’s Boston like?” John B asked. 

“Jesus, one question at a time,” Kiara said, rolling her eyes. 

“Cold, for the most part. I live on the edge of the city so I’m between suburban area and the metropolitan. It’s kind of the best of both worlds.”

“Outer banks is a wake up call,” Pope joked. 

“It’s really different than what I’m used to, but this is my sixth summer out here,” you said. “And this time I came prepared with the right clothes.” 

Kiara bursted out laughing. “When we were twelve, she insisted on bringing sweaters and jeans because that’s all she owned. For two weeks straight she had to borrow my clothes.” The boys chuckled. 

“I’m not all that used to wearing shorts,” you said, gesturing to your clothes. “But I guess I like to lounge around in oversized shirts, so it’s a win-win.”

“Beer?” JJ asked, holding a bottle. You shook your head. 

“Nah, I’m good. But thank you for offering.” He quirked his eyebrow but put it back in the cooler. 

“Damn, I’ve never been off of this damn island,” said John B. “Let alone a big city.”

“It’s great, honestly,” you began, “I feel like I’m unimportant and that leaves me with so much room to grow. Nobody has any real expectations from me because I’m just another stranger. And I’m starting to sound like a cliche.” 

JJ chuckled and shook his head. “Not a cliche. It’s nice to get to know someone who’s not from here.”

“God knows the Kooks aren’t welcoming,” said Pope. “But never mind them.”

“Sarah’s not coming,” Kiara said, looking up from her phone. “Said she’s too tired to make the ‘treacherous’ walk.” 

“Bummer,” you said, pouting. “I haven’t seen her in so long. She wasn’t at the house when I went earlier.” 

“I’m sure you’ll see her soon,” said Kiara. 

“Oh goodness,” you said, shivering. “I didn’t think it would be cold tonight.” You rubbed your upper arms with your palms and tried to move to feel some friction. 

“Take my jacket,” JJ said, reaching behind him to grab his discarded windbreaker. 

“Thanks,” you said softly, a little confused that a stranger would let you wear his jacket. 

“Damn, JJ. You’ve got broad shoulders,” John B joked, looking at how big the jacket was compared to you. 

“It’s two sizes bigger than I am,” JJ said said, taking a swig of his beer. 

“It’s perfect,” you said, looking between JJ and John B. “Thanks, JJ.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said. You looked away to speak to Kiara and didn’t notice JJ checking you out with the jacket you had put on.

“So you think Y/N’s attractive,” Pope said, leaning in and whispering. 

“Pfft, what?” JJ asked, shaking his head. 

“C’mon, dude. It’s just a matter of time before you and her, you know,” he said, making a crude gesture before laughing. JJ shoved him and laughed along. 

“It’s not like that,” he said. Pope raised his eyebrow. 

“Oh?” 

“It’s not like that either! Jeez, Pope.” 

“Whatever you say, man,” said Pope, leaning back and opening another bottle of beer. 

An hour had flown by and you yawned, the entire group silently understanding that it was probably too late to stay up. Pope had left ten minutes earlier after his dad had called and promised to see the rest of you tomorrow. 

“This was fun,” you said to Kiara, John B, and JJ. “I really like you guys.” 

“But I’m the best,” said Kiara, striking a pose that made you laugh.

“And no one’s taking that title away from you,” you replied. You folded the blanket and began to walk off of the boat with JJ offering his hand for you to step down. You took it and noticed how unusually soft they were. You started to walk back to your house before abruptly turning around. 

“Oh, JJ! Wait, let me give you your jacket back,” you said, dropping the bag you were carrying. JJ laughed and shook his head. 

“Keep it for tonight, Boston. It’ll give me a reason to see you tomorrow,” JJ said. You grinned at the nickname. 

“Okay,” you said, picking up the bag you dropped. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” JJ smiled. You could grow to like seeing his smile. 

He winked. “See you tomorrow, Boston.” 

***

As the weeks went by, you starting to feel disappointed whenever you thought about going back to Boston, which meant leaving your new friends behind. All the adventures you had raked up were memorable ones and it would feel weird not seeing the four rambunctious teens nearly every day. 

It was a hot Thursday morning when you sat on the dock. Uncle Jim had given you the rest of the day off after helping him load his cargo, offering to make the rounds that afternoon if you were willing to go to the grocery store to pick up ingredients for that night’s dinner. 

You couldn’t help but think about JJ and all the times you two had been near one another. Kiara had made an innocuous comment the prior night before you left her house about how he was much gentler when he was around you and didn’t seem to be as loud as he was when you were there. JJ, she said, was always so outspoken but whenever you were near, it was like he was censoring himself. 

You were sure Kiara didn’t mean anything bad by it, but you weren’t really sure how to interpret what she said. You and JJ, aside from Kiara, had hung out the most since you met. You two spent the afternoon together at The Wreck the day after you met him, partially to give him his jacket back and partially waiting for Kiara’s shift to be over. You could feel yourself letting loose and confessed to feeling extremely nervous and self-conscious about meeting Kiara’s friends. JJ reassured you that he (and the others in the gang, of course) really liked you. 

He would accompany you home and save you a seat next to him. He’d hold your bag and wait for you if the gang was running ahead. JJ would volunteer to come get you if you weren’t answering your phone and he’d make trips to visit you while you were helping Uncle Jim at work. 

If you were being honest, you would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t developed feelings for him. It was minor and fleeting, but it was there. The blonde made you blush without having to try too hard and you were sure Kiara knew, but she never said anything. JJ was attentive to you and let you speak when you felt your voice be drowned by someone else. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard running footsteps on the dock, only to turn around and see JJ running towards you. He peeled his shirt off and jumped past you and landed in the water, splashing you in the process. 

“JJ, what the hell!” you yelled as he came up for air. He shook his head and wiped his face, grinning at your surprised reaction. 

“What a morning, huh?” he said, swimming closer to you. Your legs dangled in the water and he came up, pushing his body upwards to let his arms rest on your lap. “You thinking too hard again, Boston?”

Boston. There was that nickname again. You think you hid your blush pretty well.

“You know I’m always thinking,” you replied. 

“Someday I’m gonna get inside your head and know everything you think about when you disappear,” he said. “I’m sure you have a lot of good stories to tell.”

“Maybe so,” you teased. “I was just thinking about how I have a month and a half left before going back home.” 

“Don’t think about that,” he said, pouting slightly. “I’ll - we’ll - miss you tons. It won’t be the same until you come back.” 

You laughed. “I wish I could bring you guys back with me. I don’t have that many friends I consider close.”

“And you consider us your close friends?”

“I might even say my best friends,” you said with a smile. 

“Well, well, well. I’m honored to hear that, Boston. Truly.” 

“Why’d you jump into the water, anyway?” you asked. 

He shrugged. “It’s a hot morning and the sun is shining. Plus, I got to scare you, which was pretty priceless.” You shoved him back into the water and laughed as he came up with a feigned surprised expression. 

“Oh, come on! It was hilarious.” 

“You’re so mean to me, JJ,” you said, sticking your tongue out. 

“Why don’t you join me? The water’s cool and it’s hot out.” 

“I think I’m good from where I’m sitting,” you said. JJ swam closer and caressed your legs before trailing his fingers to your lap, resting his chin on your knee. 

“Please?” 

It was times like this when you were grateful you developed a habit of putting a swimsuit underneath your clothing. You stood up from your spot and took off your shirt and shorts, slowly dipping in the water beside him.

“Okay, you’re right,” you confessed. “Very refreshing.” 

JJ swam closer to you and smiled, finding your hand and pulling it above the water to give it a kiss. 

“I’m never wrong, Boston.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, keep telling yourself that.” 

JJ was quiet for a moment. “You’re so innocent.”

You raised your eyebrow. “Oh? How so?”

“I don’t know. You have a purity to you. Maybe it’s Boston or maybe it’s just that you’re better than us and the Kooks combined.”

“Well, I’m definitely better than the Kooks,” you said. JJ chuckled. He pulled you closer to him to the point where your chests were almost touching. 

“I just mean that I don’t know how to act when I’m around you. Usually I’m reckless and an idiot, but I’m not that way when you’re around.” 

You frowned. “I don’t ever want you to be anyone but yourself around me, JJ.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s that. I think you pull this calmness out of me. I don’t think I’m not being myself when you’re around. I just think that I’m much more of a person than ‘reckless’ JJ who gets into too much trouble.

“What I’m trying to say is,” he began with a deep breath, “I like you. As in, more than a friend. John B and Pope have been teasing me about it all summer but I never took it seriously until you talked that Kook’s ear off about not being a racist and sexist piece of shit.” You took a moment to recall and laugh at the memory. “There’s never a moment where I don’t want to be with you or tell you things. I’ve never felt this way with anyone before, honestly.” 

“JJ,” you said softly, your hand giving his bicep a squeeze in reassurance. “You know, I’ve been overthinking these past few weeks. Last night, Kie said something about how you were so aware when I’m around and how you’re less reckless and I didn’t know what to make of it.”

“I just,” said JJ, “I like you a lot. More than I thought I did.” 

You looked into his gaze and his arm wrapped itself around your waist, pulling you closer so your chests were touching. The sound of the waves was the only noise in the vicinity and the sun made JJ’s eyes look more impeccable than they already were. His lips were plump and you noticed he had stolen a glance down to yours, squeezing the small of your back as if to ask for silent permission. You inched your way closer and he followed suit until his lips had landed gracefully on yours as if it had belonged there all along. 

His skin was hot under the sun and the water around you felt like it moved to push you two closer together. JJ let this kiss be a simple one, unlike the other girls he had been with before. His eyes remained closed until he pulled away and looked to see you in your entirety. You did nothing but smile and bite your lip, reaching out to kiss him once more. 

“I like you too,” you said. “And I like kissing you.” JJ laughed and leaned in to kiss you a third time. 

“You’re real cute, Boston,” he replied. 

“Do you think we could go and get some sandwiches from The Wreck? All this swimming and all this kissing has me starved.” You shared a laugh before pushing yourselves out of the water and hoped the sun was hot enough dry you both before you reached the restaurant. 

You were already counting down the days you would be coming back to the outer banks. 

[snapdragon-mina]

Big 3 Mermaid AU Headcanons

A/n: I actually managed to do it at like 5am, so it's here sooner than later 👀.

Nejire Hado

Her tail is teal with royal blue fins

Wears a light, flowing material as a top that has pearls decorating it

Also wears a small yellow stone and a small purple stone around her neck

The two of you met when you decided to go for a swim in the ocean

Coincidentally, she decided to swim closer to the shore

At first, you thought she was just another person swimming around nd enjoying themselves

Until you noticed the little teal scales that were next to the outer corner of her eyes

Then you noticed the tail

That obviously gave it away

The two of you actually got along fairly well

She asked you a shit ton of questions

"Why is your hair like that?" "Where's your tail?" "Wait are you a human?" "That's so cool! I've only ever really heard of humans, never seen one before. You're weird."

After knowing her for about a month, she decided that she trusted you enough to lead you to her ~special cave~

It had various things that she'd collected over the years neatly organized

Everything ranging from seashells, to jewelry of all types, to like,,,, glass bottles

You two would meet there routinely

As you got closer, she would let you meet tamaki and mirio

When she developed a crush on you, you knew immediately

Very blunt with the confession

"Hey, I like you a lot. Be my mate please?"

If you agree, she'll work out a way to safely get you underwater for a long time so she can show you around

If you don't agree, it'll hurt her feelings, but she'd ask if you want to stay friends.

Nothing really changes about her treatment towards you

She'll get more affectionate if you do decide to date her

Tamaki Amajiki

His tail is dark purple with white accents

Wears a small yellow stone and a small blue stone around his neck

You met when you got shipwrecked

A real bad storm hit and you got washed up by a cave

But it seemed,,,, sorta lived in?

That ain't sit right with you, but there wasn't really anywhere else to go

You were drawing in the sand when you heard gentle splashing in the water

You looked up only to see a lil head pop up to look at you

Took you a few days for you to get him to actually talk to you

You explained your situation nd he understood

He'd already been helping you by giving you access to food and drinkable water

When he developed a crush on you, you had a hunch already

"Did you bring me extra food last night?"

"H-Huh? N-No, last n-night I wasn't even h-here"

"Yes you were, I saw your tail as you were leaving."

"I-I don't know what you're t-talking about."

You don't let him know that you know about his crush

It'd only make the poor guy panic

Eventually he works up the courage to confess

"So I've been t-thinking about this for a while n-now… but I really l-like you, so p-please be my mate?"

How could you say no to that face?

But if you do say no he'll probably disappear for a while to seek comfort

He'll come back of course, but things are a lot more awkward

If you say yes, he gets the biggest smile on his face

Meeting his friends was the biggest milestones tbh

Mirio and Nejire were the most excited about the meeting

Mirio Togata

His tail is white with red splotches covering it

Wears a small blue stone and a small purple stone around his neck

You were living your best life on a relatively secluded Island

He had managed to tangled up it some sort of net

You helped him get out of it

You tended to any wounds he'd gotten

Boy was instantly whipped

He visited your island regularly from that point on

You meet tamaki and nejire super early on because he really trusts you

Would bring you pearls and shells for the hell of it

"Y/n! I found more of those shells you really liked. Y'know, the spiral ones? This one has a 'marble pattern' I think that's what you called it."

Although he's whipped, you can't actually tell

He's just as bright towards you as he is towards everyone else

Confession comes outta nowhere

You're out here swimming at like midnight when mirio pops up, scaring the shit outta you.

"Hey, y/n! I really really like you, it'd be awesome if you liked me back."

Took you a moment to process

If it's a no, he'll look a little heartbroken, but ultimately decide that your friendship is worth it

If it's a yes, he laughs and hugs you tightly.

Definitely will spin you around while in in the water

No noticeable changes except for him becoming more affectionate physically

He will absolutely make you jewelry if you ask

Very protective of you despite him only being able to stay in the water

[vagabonds-art]

Lost

Summary: This is basically how I see Kebechet (my guardian) reacting to the start of the this season and the emotional fall out of that cutscene. 

A/N: Major spoilers if you haven’t played up until the second cutscene, be warned! Also, I am aware of the Wolftone Draw lore tab but Kebe isn’t. So to her, Saint could be right.

Characters: Mara Sov, Osiris, Savathûn, Kebechet (OC Guardian), Demon (OC Ghost), a bunch of mentions like Saint, Ikora, Lakshmi

Word Count: 1,699

Warnings: Canon typical violence (its kinda there) and angst. 

She should have known. From the very moment she found him wondering about the inner Hive structures on the moon, Kebechet should have known. Vaguely, she recalled telling herself that Osiris’s mannerisms and actions were unfamiliar because of his grief. 

He had just lost Sagira. There was no way he could have been thinking clearly, anyone could understand and sympathize with that. More often than not sorrow and anger mixed together in volatile and self-destructive ways. 

That was what she told herself. And now here Kebechet stood regretting it. 

Saint’s screams of anger and sadness still echoed in her ears long after he had left. It’d been long enough that he probably made it back to the tower by now. Back to tell Ikora and Zavala everything that happened while it was fresh in his memory. Not that he would ever be able to forget. 

Kebechet knew she wouldn’t. 

That thing. That frozen construct hovered a few inches off the ground, trapped between two glowing triangle shapes created by Queen Mara was once Osiris. Though inanimate, the posture it had taken before being stopped made Kebechet feel as if it were mocking her. Locked in a position akin to something trying to rip itself free of an outer shell, head tilted upward toward the sky surrounded by wisps of swirling light. A constant reminder of what should have never happened. 

“You may speak to it.”

Mara Sov’s authoritative tone snapped the Hunter out of her thoughts. Hazel eyes finally tore away from the barely open grated door off to the back of the room to meet luminescent blue ones. 

“I’m not sure I want to…”

It was true. Kebechet wanted nothing more than to run and hide, to fall asleep and wake up from this horrible nightmare. If only that was all this was. 

“I’ve told you before, your father still lives.”

“And I’m just supposed to believe that? With everything we saw?”

Realizing her tone, Kebechet took a small step back and looked at the helm held in her hands for a moment. A small apology came on the back of a quiet sigh. Mara said nothing in return. Not that she needed to. Based on the subtle shifts of an otherwise stoic face, Kebechet knew she understood. Or at least, led on that she did. 

“It… Can’t hurt me… right?”

“Not in its current state.”

With a small nod, Kebechet put her helm back on and turned, starting to walk toward the chamber that housed the construct. She was sure to give the Techeun in the center of the room a wide berth as she passed. She’d barely rescued the tech witch from the ascendent plane and trust was a little hard to give at the moment.

What was only a minute or two at most felt like hours the closer the Hunter got to the frozen statue. When her footfalls fell silent was when it started speaking to her. 

“I am at your mercy, Guardian.”

Just like before, Savathûn’s voice was nothing like what Kebechet had expected. Not that she really knew what to expect other than low guttural growls or ear-piercing shrieks. Instead the Witch Queen’s vocals were gentle, almost welcoming in tone. 

“This construct protects me, from those who wish me harm. From my worm’s hunger. But it is a prison too. Quite elegant… Don’t you think?”

It took a moment for Kebechet to register the familiar taste of copper on her tongue before a stab of pain pulsed from where she had bitten through her right cheek. From that point on, she focused solely on that as a means of distracting herself. Distracting the growing rage and want to destroy the construct. 

For the most part, it had worked. A little too well. Savathûn was going on about her regrets, being called a liar and having skepticism. Kebechet had missed most of the one-sided conversation until she heard something about interpreting truth.

That was when the Hunter noticed everything around her starting to blur. At first, she thought it was just the visor of her helm acting up until visions of scenes past flashed before her eyes.

Savathûn’s voice acted as a narrator of sorts as she explained who she was and what she had been doing all this time. She claimed to be a friend, acting as a sort of protector when it came to the pyramid ships. The Black Fleet as she called them. When that didn’t work to her liking she took to finding a form that allowed her to gain trust among the Guardians. 

To Kebechet, it all made sense now. 

Osiris was the optimal target. He was the former Vanguard Commander, one of the heroes of the city. The means to Saint-14 being alive today. If those facts alone didn’t win over guardians and citizens alike then surely his ties to Ikora and Kebechet would. And they did. 

The current Warlock Vanguard had no issue trusting her former mentor, especially after the loss of his light. She was only trying to look out for his best interest and keep him safe within the city’s walls. And the Young Wolf? Not only was Kebechet the guardian, she was also the only one Osiris trusted to send back in time and bring Saint back alive. Being his kid must have been an added bonus when the Witch Queen found out.

As if Kebechet needed even more reason to feel absolutely horrible, Savathûn continued. 

She mentioned how it was her who brought Crow to the city for his own redemption. How she was the one to look out for Zavala when Caiatl was a threat. It even seemed as if she was bragging when she stated she was the reason House Light sought out aid from Ikora and the guardians. She was the reason for discovering Lakshmi-2’s betrayal and causing her death. 

“You may disagree with my methods,” Savathûn said with a smile evident in her tone, “but you can’t argue with results.”

Now was when Kebechet really wanted to tear away from the visions. 

Seeing the way the Witch Queen carelessly and effortlessly carried out her plan all while masquerading as Osiris was bad enough. But now the Hunter was being forced to see her father dead on the ground with the lower half of his face rapidly decaying while dozens and dozens of ink colored moths flew out of his mouth. 

“I am no villain,” Savathûn declared as the vision mercifully shifted upward, “and you are no hero.”

The imagery ended with Kebechet looking up at the Traveler being surrounded by clouds that strongly resembled a Worm God. 

“We are paracausal.”

There was a gasp that wanted to jerk out of the Hunter’s chest when her vision finally returned to normal. It took every ounce of restraint not to open fire on the construct with her auto rifle. But she did it, even managed to turn and start walking away.

With a final glance over her shoulder, Kebechet exited the chamber with as much poise as she could muster. 

She’d barely gotten a few feet away from the door before bringing Demon out of his pocket to sit in the palm of her hand. “Please…” she whispered lowly, desperately avoiding Mara’s expectant stare, “get us out of here.”

Gladly, the Ghost did so, transmitting the pair back to the ship they came in on. Once safely inside and settled, Kebechet ripped off her helm and chucked it toward the back of the cockpit. 

Demon could only watch as she fidgeted in her seat, staring at the console as if to decide what the hell to do next. Gathering his own courage, he hesitantly floated in front of her face. 

“I got a couple messages while you were dealing with… that.”

When the Hunter said nothing he continued, “One’s from Saint, the oth--”

“Play it.”

With a twist of his shell, Demon let a ball of light expand from his core. 

“My little bird, do not blame yourself for what has happened today. That thing is known as Queen of Lies for a reason. I do not trust that it ever had Osiris to begin with and neither should you. I will find the real Osiris and bring him home, this I promise you as a Titan and your second Father. Stay strong, Kebechet and remind Ikora of the same.”

The planes of Demon’s shall retracted back to his core as the message ended. His optic was downcast as he spoke, “The other was from Ikora, she just wants to talk.” 

As if realizing what he had said with the fragile nature of his guardian’s current emotions, Demon’s optic shot up to look her in the eye, “Like a Warlock and not a Titan!”

That managed to get a small scoff of a laugh from Kebechet. Already Demon could feel himself relax until she sniffled a moment later. Not even a second after that was when the water works started. 

Her chest jumped with sobs as she tried in vain to wipe the tears from her cheeks. 

“De--Demon… How-- What’re we gonna do? How can we-- Is th--there any… Can we even fi--fix this?”

“I… Kebe, I don’t know…”

Demon knew that wouldn’t help, even saw it when Kebechet’s face contorted with distress. Her head thumped softly against the back of her chair before she started to curl in on herself. The heels of her boots planted firmly on the seat of the chair as she wrapped her arms around her knees. 

Wordlessly, Demon set the flight path back to the Tower before managing to squeeze his way under his guardian’s chin in an attempt to comfort her. When she shifted he worried he’d upset her further. His concern was put to rest when she grabbed the scarf Osiris gifted to her years ago and took it off to wrap around his small drone-like body. Then her whole form shifted. 

Now sitting sideways in her chair, Kebechet tucked Demon between her shoulder and neck. Her hands cocooned around him and the scarf like she was trying to protect one of the few things she had left. 

Because she was. 

[redrosesartcabin]

The cave incident: Kenji x first perspective reader pt. 2 of 2

(Link to part one https://redrosesartcabin.tumblr.com/post/641312472793546752/the-cave-incident-kenji-x-first-perspective )

“Looks like we are stuck here”, Kenji said with a calmness, that however had that kind of underlaying tone that suggests a storm of panic coming soon.

“Hey hey hey: Not so fast. Let’s not give up just yet”, I answered softly, “Maybe if you could stabilize the motorcycle whilst I climb on top I could reach the edge of the cave”.

“Ok”, he said sceptically.

He held the vehicle whilst I stood on top. My fingers reached to the edge, but I was definitely still too far away. I knew that had been the only option, but still I tried contemplating.

“Ok, maybe if you sit on top and I get on your shoulders-“

“Y/n”, he interrupted that thought process bluntly.

“What?”, I grunted

“Stop. This may not be the deepest of caves…holes…cave-holes, but this ain’t a three feet puddle. Face it, we are stuck. We have nothing that could us even close”

“Yeah yeah, ok, you’re right”, I had to admit. Not something I liked to admit, but he was. But I sure didn’t do it without a glare.

“What are you looking at me like that for? Did I suggest riding the motorcycle?”

“Oh I see: now you want to blame it on me! The macho man finds himself in a bad situation and needs a scape goat. Ain’t that typical for you”, I hissed back.

Usually, or especially in the beginning, he would’ve kept on discussing and defending his greatness, but this time, to my surprise he flinched.

The quiet settled in faster than a second could pass.

He sat down on the ground and seemed to space out for a moment. I couldn’t move for a while, that’s how much that reaction surprised me.

Finally my body obeyed me again. I got down on my knees before him, trying to catch his eyes.

“Kenji, are you ok? I’m sorry I-“

“NO”, he interrupted me, “you’re right. I did try to act like I was better. I can’t seem to stop it… It’s a wonder anyone likes me at all”

“Oh hey now: What’s with the sudden change of attitude?”, I asked concerned, “didn’t you consider yourself the charming glue that holds the group together? Where has that Kenji gone?”

He let out a sad sounding laugh, “That Kenji did a run for it. That Kenji did call himself that but … did anybody ever say that about me because they genuinely thought that about me?”

“Did they ever dispute it?”, I asked, trying the lighten the mood, though I was starting to get his point.

He however still didn’t look convinced. I sighed in deeply, “Look: You might’ve started off as a jerk. Maybe even a major one. You might’ve come off as a rich, spoiled child. Which in many regards, is what you are: But you’ve proven, that that was just your outer shell. You’ve proven, that you are compassionate and understanding. And you know it.

We all have flaws. Some more than others. Some appear more undesirable and annoying than others. And especially those are hard to get over, because those have been acquired by default of how you grew up”

“Oh wow”, he simply answered, “I didn’t know you understood me… that well”

“I like psychoanalyzing people”, I answered with a bemused smile before I returned to the appropriate serious expression, “but besides that: I think we connected… or at least I thought so”

“No no … you’re right: We have but… I just… nobody ever even tried to understand me that way so deeply like you have, not even our other friends”

“It’s a gift I suppose”, I smiled, a concerned frown planted on my brows, “but I might have just also taken a liking in you”

“That’s the thing: I have taken a liking in you too. That’s why I realized more quickly this time, that this thing that I keep doing is just such an asshole move. I’m sorry”

“It’s ok-“

“No! It’s not ok.”, he interrupted me. The pain he had in his eyes almost hurt: I had never seen him so serious and broken, “I didn’t want to be like this. Not with you anyways. I know It’s not impressive or great. Yet that has been planted in my brain for so long. Like a tumor you can’t get rid of. And I just don’t know how to be different. How to connect to others my age that way.”

“But you do. You’ve shown who you are. You see: Getting out of a habit is a process. There are high and low points. Moments where you succeed and some where you slip again. But eventually you won’t slip at all. It’s a matter of patience and, you could say, practice. But eventually: eventually you’ll be the version you’ve always aspired to be”

He looked at me directly now. His gaze struck deep as he gifted me the most honest and cozy kind of smile he had ever mustered up, “How are you this understanding and patient with me? How do I deserve it?”

“I love you, that’s-“, I interrupted myself as he stood up in an abrupt motion and stared at me with his eyes wide open.

“Oh”, I whispered, “I slipped”, I said out loud, “that confession was way too sudden. Sorry”

He ignored my blabbering and asked instead, with a voice as quiet as a mouse, “When did you plan on telling me that?”

I chuckled saying, “probably never”, and averted my eyes as quickly as I could.

“So, it took us falling into a cave and an accidental deep talk huh?”, he said, seeming a little stunted at it all.

“I mean: I was afraid. I’ve always been someone afraid of rejection and I didn’t think you’d like me. And you apparently-“

“Do”, he interrupted me. Now I was the wide eyed one.

“I’ve been afraid too. And not even that cave made me slip You just seemed too kind, too smart for me”

“Oh wow”, I could only say.

I stood up as well again now.

The wind was cool down here and with the sun setting. The pink and red hues of the sun set crept down the hole and lay on Kenji like a bright shadow surrounding him making the moment even more surreal. He literally looked like I was looking at him through rose colored glasses.

I had to chuckle. Luckily, that loosened the tension and he laughed back.

Kenji dared to step forward now. He came closer and closer until I could feel his hot breath on my face. I looked up at him curious and expectant. He gave me that look with half lidded eyes, knitted eyebrows that suggested a certain gesture.

I closed my eyes and led myself be led by the motion he had initiated until I could feel soft lips on mine. A moment I thought I could only ever dream of had settled and I felt at peace.

“There you are! Guys I found them, they are more than fine!”, Kenji and me suddenly heard Sammy yell.

We broke apart quickly, a little embarrassed to be caught in the moment of our first kiss, yet very happy to be found.

We looked up where we saw Sammy and Bumpy standing. One second later Ben followed who scratched Bumpy’s head and whispered something I could decipher as “good girl”. Bumpy apparently was the one who had discovered us.

At last, the others came as well, who brought a big rope with them.

“Come on you guys. I fear we got to leave the motorcycle behind, but we’ll get you out in no time”, Yaz said and we kept it at that.

And in a matter of second we were up again, holding hands as we stood before our rescue squad.

Brooklynn smiled, “I knew it”

“I can’t believe I didn’t believe you. Again!”, Sammy had to laugh as well, “but there they were smooching it away”

“We were not smooching”, I pouted

“Wait: You two?”, Ben and Darius asked in chorus.

“Am I really the only one who noticed? Come on guys!”, Brooklynn asked. We all laughed at that heartily.

I had to give it to her: She really had a feeling for people. Not even I had noticed his feelings for me or vice versa.

“And that’s why you are the unboxing girl and not us”, Kenji chuckled.

“Very funny Kenji”, Brooklynn retorted, “but seriously: It took you both to fall into a freaking hole to confess. You both are chicken”

To back up that point both Darius and Ben made chicken noises at which Sammy laughed and Yaz rolled her eyes, but with an endeared smile as she looked at Sammy laughing.

‘Those two should confess too’, I thought but kept it to myself: They’d figure it out eventually.

“Ok enough of us and kissing in a cave…hole…cave-hole”, Kenji announced, “let’s get home”

“Let’s do”, I smiled.

‘Best accident ever!’, I thought, and I’d like to think, so did Kenji…

(I hope you liked it!) (please leave feedback if possible. Also: Feel free to send requests for one shots if there is something specific you’d like to read in regards to Kenji x reader fanfics (though I won’t accept every suggestion if its about something I have little to no experience with I hope you understand <3. With that I wish y’all a great day!)

[am-i-right-marines]

Prompt: A Random Idea I had

Rain.

Mud.

Lightning.

Darkness.

The epitome of trench warfare.

John-117 wasn’t a stranger to these natural elements, but admittedly he didn’t typically experience them in this context all together.

The Spartan walked along the five foot wide trench with his MA5B Individual Combat Weapon System at the ready. To his right was a concrete steel-reinforced firing-step about four and a half feet off the ground, as to allow Marines to fire over the parapet of the ten foot deep concrete trench. To his left, a concrete wall occasionally broken up by the entrance to a dugout containing a few dozen bunks or ammo crates. He watched a pair of marines climb up onto the firing step and take position by a mounted machine gun. The Master Chief recognized them from last week.

“Will you shut up?”

“‘Who’s Bob?’ The hell kinda question was that? Haven’t you heard of a first name?”

“Your first name is Private, you’re gonna be Private all your life.”

Private Schmegeggy and Private Rosen.

The pair had charged a trio of Elites that had pinned down a Corpsman in a shell crater as he tried to help the artillery officer that had been caught in the blaster. With a few close calls, the pair of Privates had rescued both men and returned to friendly lines.

John could respect that bravery. As such, when Rosen glanced over at him as he walked by, he nodded at the young Marine, who’s face broke into a smile and nodded back.

John understood that he was considered a hero to the ranks. A very long successful mission record, plenty of eyewitness accounts of “heroism”, and the Office of Naval Intelligence’s Section Two hyping up his achievements with propaganda had led to him being one of, if not the most revered human alive.

Just because he understood it didn’t mean it didn’t confuse him. A soldier didn’t deserve the title ‘hero’ just for doing his job. But, he did what was needed of him. Sometimes people needed a hero, be they real, fictional, willing, or unwilling.

The Spartan walked down a set of stairs to pass under a pillbox that spanned over the top of the trench and was partially buried to hide it from Covenant air strikes. Inside the pillbox was an M68 Gauss Cannon along with two M247H Heavy Machine Guns, capable of being manned by just four marines; Two for the M247s, and two for the M68. There were several dozen just like it in the outer defense ring of Firebase Romeo.

Firebase Romeo may have been called a Firebase, but it was more like a fortress. Three rings of trenches with a dozen pillboxes each, artillery batteries between those trenches in concealment holes, several dozen M79 Multiple Launch Rocket Systems mounted on the base walls, countless heavy machine guns, ten M808C Scorpion Main Battle Tanks, a dozen M12 LRVs, the list went on.

Making a turn down another trench, John made for the main section of the Firebase, only to stop. His instincts started screaming at him.

Something’s wrong

Something’s wrong

Somethi—

“Incoming!”

The trenches sprang to life, Marines diving for cover, looking out for incoming fire, dragging comrades to safety.

John’s eyes immediately found the barrage of incoming plasma bombs, and subsequently deduced where they had come from.

A nearby ridge line with heavy foliage concealed the dozen or so Wraith tanks that had fired the barrage, and he could already see readying a second barrage. He blinked into his HUD and connected to the comm channel the artillery crews used to communicate.

“Romeo Battery Command, Sierra-117. Eyes on hostile armor. Request One Round, followed by Battery Fire For Effect at following coordinates.” The Spartan blinked again and transmitted said coordinates to the Battery Commander.

“Confirmed Sierra, standby.”

A pause. Then a single boom.

“Shot! Over.”

A few seconds.

“Splash! Over.”

The Wraith rounds finally landed as he saw the single artillery shell land in exactly the right place. Crouching down against the trench wall just to be safe as dirt and residual plasma washed over him, he spoke again. “Splash confirmed. Fire For Effect.”

“Understood, Firing For Effect!” And a second later, deafening booms started echoing over the trenches as Romeo Battery opened up with everything it had. John saw fire erupt over the Wraith line followed by a second plasma barrage before several explosions in the tree line as the line of Wraiths went up in purple flames.

Blinking into the open-comm frequency, John caught the next major problem.

“Pillbox 17, hostile infantry in sight, north-by-northwest. Contact. Contact.” Followed by the sound of both heavy machine guns in the pillbox opening up.

From closer to him, John heard Private Rosen scream. “Here they come!”

As he quickly made his way back to the outer trench, John reconnected to the Artilerry Frequency and examined the open field the UNSC Corps of Engineers had created when constructing Firebase Romeo that the Covenant were now crossing. Open, muddy ground with little to no cover. Hundreds upon hundreds of Covenant infantry and vehicles charging across No Man’s Land.

“Battery Command, Sierra. Recommend adjust firing position by twelve degrees East.”

“Understood Sierra, adjusting. Keep your heads down.”

Shells started flying overhead leaving trails of fire in the sky, slamming into the Covenant lines.

John shouldered his MA5B and added his own fire to the roaring staccato.

No shots missed. Two Grunts. An Elite. Even a Brute.

He heard the anti-air cannons on the base walls open up, followed by the sound of Banshee engines screaming. “Strafing run!”

John dozen to the ground as his shields started draining from high-power plasma strikes. As he stood up, he watched a pillbox detonate in a ball of green fire as a Fuel Rod blast detonated the M68’s power cell.

The Master Chief spotted Private Rosen staring in fear at the fireball approaching and then turning to run.

He’s not gonna make it.

The Spartan launched himself down the trench and grabbed Rosen’s wrist, flinging him into one of the dugouts and covering the entrance with his own body to protect the other marines inside.

His shields shattered. Heat washed over him. He heard a grunt of pain escaped his lips as small bouts of flame slipped past, but nothing more. When the flames passed, he moved away without another word and returned to the firing step.

“Master Chief, we just received an E-BAND transmission from a Ranger unit on a nearby hill-“

And then leaped out of the trench as he spotted a Brute Chopper zipping towards him. He sprinted towards the vehicle, sidestepped the spikes it shot at him, then grabbed the Brute in the driver’s seat as it drove by. He tore it from its seat and took its place.

“-assist if you can.”

“Mayday! Kilo 279, I’m hit!”

“-Delta Two Bravo, Mine Strike!”

John spotted the flaming Pelican descending through the clouds, and knew he had a decision to make.

Kilo 279...

or the Rangers.

Not enough time.

John revved his engine as Kilo 279 slammed cockpit-first into the dirt, running over Covenant troops in the process. He depressed the triggers on the handles and mowed down more. Then he spotted the Locust.

Pulling a grenade from his belt, he primed the detonator and shoved it into the wheel-well before leaking into the air and pulling backflip as the Chopper slammed into one of the Locust’s legs and detonated, destroying the siege-platform.

John landed at a kneel with one fist on the ground and tilted his visor upwards.

“The Demon-!”

Spartan Time kicked in.

His MA5B practically teleported into his hands.

Body after body dropped to the dirt.

The Spartan shot forward and grabbed a Jackal by the throat, throwing it at a pair of Sangheili that were charging him in slow motion. As the Jackal took flight, John whirled and emptied and entire magazine into a Brute, then tossed his rifle onto his mag-clamps on his back.

No time to reload.

Magnum in his hand without even realizing, he downed three Jackals and a pair of Sangheili with one mag.

As time sped up again, he became aware of a shout from behind him.

“Cover the Chief!”

He didn’t have to look behind him to hear the dozens of marines and the crew of Kilo-279 rallying behind him.

Then engines screaming. Shouts of joy.

“Hell yeah! Air support!”

John looked up as a flight of B-65 Shortswords swooped low over the valley and dropped napalm on the Covenant advance. A second flight focused on the Covenant armor, dropping Mark 208 High-Yield Gravity Buster bombs.

And then nearly all of them exploded.

Covenant point defense weapons had shot them down. A Covenant frigate lowered through the clouds, and John tensed. Not even he could deal with that. Not from the ground.

“Sierra-117, Vindication-Actual. Standby for MAC strike.”

—————

So, this is a thing. I don’t know what it is but I like it.

See if you can spot the movie references I dropped in here!

Also, @ladywolvesbayne , I think you might like this one because of how badass John is.

And you asked to be provided with this, @cloakedinfall !

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh Ep 29 S4: Joey Wheeler, Dead Again

It took me kind of a while to get around to recapping again, been some drama on this end due to a couple natural disasters all happening in conjunction with eachother, but thankfully we are back in the green (sort of) there’s still wildfire smoke out my window but at least...at least the fires aren’t getting any bigger.

And it’s a shame we didn’t get to it sooner, because this episode has so many wild things in it, I don’t even know where to start. There was a lot of dueling, so I didn’t have to cap a whole lot...but even within such few caps, there’s some stuff to talk about. Like first off, the Kaiba’s inability to walk five feet without getting attacked by someone.

Seto still winning Brother of the year award even after nearly shooting his bro with real ass lightning. Because remember, this lightning is 100% real. None of these are holograms.

And by the way, a “hologram” just grabbed Mokuba with real ass hands and Seto was like “Clearly still a hologram!” Because that is how deep his denial runs.

Anyways, this is where the Kaibas will be until the remainder of this episode, so we’ll just leave them where they are.

(read more under the cut)

Back at the duel between Mai and Joey, we’re slowly working out what it is the Orichalcos even does.

We have had very little indication you can break the Oricalchos control on people’s minds up to this duel, but because Joey showed heart and bravery or whatever--he’s been slowly chipping away at Mai’s crusty, neon green, outer shell.

(I had a littttle bit of a hunger for some Taco Bell Baja Blast, not gonna lie. A little bit tempted because of that weird color. And now that I’ve eaten popcorn, I am 80% itching to drive to Taco Bell and make some mistakes. But I won’t.)

Comparing this to Pharaoh and Kaiba and their Oricalchos duels (even Rex and Weevil’s) it kind of makes you wonder why this never happened.......to anyone else? I mean, obviously it’s plot reasons, but it would have been a little neat to have some character development for the other villains.

But this unnecessary duel to the death between Joey and Mai spends most of the time screaming about how deep and real their love friendship is. Just a whooole bunch of aggressive friendzoning for the lady who just aggressively hates everyone.

(Haven’t seen much of Yugioh Abridged because it’s spoiler territory but everyone who retweets Joey stuff puts “Brooklyn Rage” in there so I have learned the lingo through osmosis.)

So because, someone’s absolutely going to die, lets start going through all of the flashbacks to remind the audience to feel something when they biff it. Lets recite the times we all spent with Mai.

Remember how they brushed Mai under the rug for 3 seasons, and now that they actually need her, they’re shooting themselves in the foot because there’s actually very little evidence that they like eachother at all?

But they do show those few times they hung out: the camping trip where they almost got burned alive by PaniK, that time that Joey caught her smelling her own cards, that time that Yugi had a panic attack because he was convinced Pharaoh would murder her during a card game, that time that she almost got hit by a fireball and then Joey jumped in front of her.

PS, that fireball scene--they keep going back to that fireball scene but they cut out the part where, yes, Joey jumped in front of her--but then Yugi jumped in front of Joey, and then Yami took over and was like EFF YUGI DAMN IT while he got pegged with fireballs. Like...c’mon, Yugioh, there was a lot of fanservice in that particular episode, and you’re leaving out a majority of the ships.

Partial truth, Yugioh--you’re telling partial truths. If we’re saying friendzoning is a good replacement for some sort of romance, then this show is just a giant geometric shape of “who might possibly like who if they weren’t so addicted to friendship.” This show has “friendship” as the underlying tagline of every episode with every person.

In the process of removing romance--they accidentally made SO MUCH MORE romantic implications in this show. I just feel like this backfired in so many ways. Or...maybe this was exactly what they wanted. And by “they” I mean that one writer who stans Seto Kaiba in the back--just sitting there in the corner of the writer’s room tapping his fingers together and cackling like an evil villain. He knows what he did. Genius mastermind, slipping in his favorite ships by making every ship Yugioh-legal.

And, also the Joey/Mai duel was a lot of this type of questionable content:

Joey Freakin Wheeler.

So I forgot if I mentioned this, but my bro had this friend in college who go struck by lightning not once, but multiple times in his life. He lived in like Virginia or North Carolina--one of the monsoon States, and he’d go on this hike to the top of this mountain--and on two different occasions at the same spot, he got stuck by freakin lightning. So like...Joey Wheelers do exist. There are people out there who just...

They’re just lightning rods wherever they go and their brain is somewhat scrambled eggs because of it.

(PS fun fact I googled just now because I couldn’t remember which state Virginia was, a Virginian by the name of Roy Sullivan was supposedly struck by lightning 7 different times and survived all of them. The more you know. ((PS still on the Google deep dive and the same guy also claimed to have been attacked by a bear 22 times (he’s a park ranger, so that checks) and once he was attacked by a bear immediately after he got struck by lightning which is like some pretty pro strats by said bear.)))

But like...kinda weird that Joey’s now kinda into this, and got super into it during a lovers friendship quarrel.

Anyway, all things come to an end, so Mai decides after enough cards have been played and Joey is clearly about to die...maybe it’s time to just accept not being 1st in the world in cards. Which...would have meant she should have been playing Yugi during this duel but, wtv. She clearly wants to be mad at Joey, specifically.

And I think the show didn’t do such a good job explaining why she was focused on Joey and not any of the other duelists until the very end, but we’ll get there. We’ll finally get to an explanation of why she was so fixated on Wheeler, we just have to wait for him to die first.

Because after the lightning strikes, and after putting so much effort into punching Valon right before this...Joey is too sleepy to continue.

So he’s just gonna die here instead...

2nd time he’s passed out in a duel by the way. Remember that Joey almost beat Marik, but was too damn sleepy after the electrocution? Same situation here. Look at that parallel.

Reminder that Joey STARTED this duel.

It’s like when you’re playing a game with a toddler and then it just passes out halfway and without any warning with it’s face just flat into the carpet.

Anyway, Mai grabs him in her arms sobbing all over him like she just did with Valon and it’s like...damn, this girl can just turn it off and on huh? Like she’s only 100% or -100% when it comes to the relationship meter, huh? No in between?

Mmmm cue that irony that Yugioh loves so much, this entire duel was unnecessary, because all you had to do was yoink that necklace.

Really the solution to dealing with a lot of assholes in Yugioh, to be honest.

This really is what Seto says in the show, by the way--a glitch. I like that Seto does not accept that dragons can feel sadness, and is just ITCHING to patch that out in the next release of duel monsters. I imagine that he’ll make a meeting once this is all over with his code team and at the top of the list will be the demand “Make The Dragons Stop Crying.” triple underlined, bold, and in bright red font. The entire code team will side eye eachother, unsure if this is a literal bug or something that Seto just hears all the time but no one else can hear.

So back at the Joey death fort, Mai decides to finally illustrate with words why she had to go so hard on killing Joey wheeler.

It was because she saw his kindness and his help as a weakness and a failure on her part. Mai, who always wants to be independent and in charge, could not accept that someone else had saved her or would want to save her. Which was apparently why she decided to peace out back at the end of the Marik arc.

It’s a bit of a complicated character for a kid’s show, I’m not sure how many kids understood the pride situation here, but it’s nice they stuck in something that wasn’t just “I want to be the best.” It was more that she didn’t want to be helped in order to become the best.

(PS, there’s this flashback scene where Joey’s like “bye” as she drives away and it was unintentionally a very awkward and funny cut and I may grab that little quip. I have to cap a couple of animations, tbh, I haven’t done that in a while)

So, now that she is fully recovered, she decides to complete the parallel of when Joey saved her in a death coma and now she will do the same (although it is SLIGHTLY different since in this version she kind of absolutely killed Joey Wheeler but...still works). She decides to do the job these stupid boys have not been able to do for the entirety of this season.

(these boots are REALLY well drawn, by the way. OBSESSED with Mai’s boots.)

If only she swooped up Pharaoh and just stuck him on the back of her bike to get this final fight going.

But Pharaoh’s too busy getting lost in San Francisco, and stumbling upon Joey’s dead body.

That this is the season where Yami can do nothing right and it just keeps happening.

No idea how we’re going to resurrect Joey in so short a period of time, but we’re completely out of spooky necklaces, so I guess we can’t do the Pharaoh solution to just...stick him back in there.

Anyways, I’m off to recover from the trauma of my house burning down last week, so I’m gonna go eat a pint of ice cream while I dream of a life before quarantine (was there a time before quarantine? I honestly don’t remember)

If you just got here this is a link to these in chrono order.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[slywrites]

Show Me What You’ve Learned - Leon Kennedy/Reader

THIS is my 300th post on this blog! *fan fare* With it being my 300th post I wanted to make it special with Leon. I’m back at it again this time because of @residentsbeingevil​ with the CLEVER line “show me what you’ve learned” when I told them some ideas for a RE4 Leon fic. Here we fucking are with just SMUT. 

This is technically a sequel to Best Two of Out of Three but can be read on it’s own since it’s mostly....smut so yeah. 

This is my first time writing RE4 Leon bc I’ve only written our baby RE2 Remake Leon. SO this Leon is a mix of the two before you know the whole RE4 thing. 

ANYWAYS 

Enjoy. 

Warnings: Strong Language, Smut (18+ only!)

The moment you walked into your apartment, you knew something was up. Those special candles that you didn’t want to burn because they cost too much were lit in the center of the small kitchen table. The table was set with those fancy dark blue cloth napkins and silver woven placemats you got on sale because you thought they’d be cute for an anniversary dinner. 

But it wasn’t your anniversary or your birthday. It wasn’t Leon’s either, and it wouldn’t be for a while. 

So why was the apartment so nice? Not that Leon didn’t treat you well, it’s just he was more subtle in his love than this bold display. You wouldn’t complain just yet. 

The door closed quietly behind you as you locked it. You shrugged out of your jacket and hung it on the chair that sat next to the door. You slipped your shoes off and kicked them under the side table next to the chair. 

Your foot falls softly on the wooden floor. The kitchen was a mess but whatever he cooked up, or ordered and reheated, smelled delicious. If Leon put all this work into this dinner and the setting, something was up. You just didn’t know exactly what. 

“Leon?” You called out. 

“I’m in the bathroom,” He responded. 

You tiptoed to your shared bathroom that was settled in the back of the apartment in the master bedroom. Leon left the door cracked. You peaked through to see he was messing with his hair. His hands kept running through the long locks, he was in need of a haircut. Your soft giggles were heard as his headshot back to look at you peaking. You almost jumped out of your skin at how quick he threw the door open. 

“Were you spying on me?” He asked. 

“What would you do if I said yes?” You teased. 

Leon leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over his broad chest. He shrugged, “I would probably have to arrest you. It’d be my duty as an agent. Can’t have any of my secrets getting out.”

You scoffed and laughed, “What secret Agent Kennedy? That you use products in your hair?”

Leon moved, a whole lot faster than you expected and tackled you into your bed. He pinned your wrist above your head. His fingers dug into your skin that only made you arch into him. 

“That is classified government knowledge, sweetheart,” he smirked. 

“Oh really? Well, it looks like you’ll just have to shut me up.”

Leon titled his head. The tips of his hair brushed against your cheek. He dipped and gave you the lightest kiss and immediately hopped off the bed as if nothing had happened. Leon just left you on the bed as he made his way out of the bathroom. 

Before he made an actual exit, he turned to look at the flustered look on your face and fucking smirked. You blinked, did that really just happen? 

“Come on, before the food gets cold. I worked hard on it,” Leon chided. 

You sighed and got up from your spot on the bed. 

“Atta girl,” he said as he reached for your hands. 

You pouted and intertwined your fingers with his. Leon gave you a small smile as he dragged you out to the kitchen. He led you to the table. You moved to sit as he pushed the chair in for you. His warm hands rested on your shoulders as he kissed the top of your head before moving to the kitchen. 

“Did you make dinner or did you buy it?” You asked as you brought the napkin to your lap. 

Leon hummed, “I’ll let you decide.”

You laughed at his remark. Then he came out to the table with a large dish in his oven mitt covered hands. The dish was still steaming as he set it down on the trivet that was already prepared on the table. 

“Well,” you started, “Regardless of whoever made it, it smells delicious.”

Leon rolled his eyes and shoved the spoon in what looked to be like Shepherd's Pie. You reached for a spoonful and dished it on the bowl in front of you. Leon reached for it once you were finished. 

“Shit,” he jumped up from his seat, “I forgot the wine.”

Leon half jogged around the small island to get to the bottle that was in the door of the fridge. It was already half-drunk by the both of you as he poured you and himself a glass respectively. 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face. 

“Okay, what are we celebrating?” You asked once he sat down again. 

The lack of a quick response made you nervous as he picked up his spoon. 

“Nothing, we can’t have a nice dinner without celebrating something?” 

You mulled over his statement as you took a bite. It was divine, he probably bought it, but you weren’t going to bring that up. Instead, you thought about the setting around you. Leon was very precise in the way that he showed you appreciation and love. He always wanted it to be simple without the necessity of grandiose gestures on the daily. You couldn’t recall a random special dinner in the years that you had been together. It was only on specific occasions that he would do this, to actively show his emotions. 

“It’s not that Leon, it’s just…” you trailed off, did you really want to question this nice gesture?

Leon reached for his glass as he studied you. Something he didn’t do before the government stuff. You usually didn’t mind it but something about the situation made you feel like you were being locked in an interrogation room before the detectives would come in. Leon’s eyes were the single light in the room. 

You forced a laugh, “It’s nothing, I guess I’m just reading too much into this.”

Leon shrugged and continued eating, “You’re just surprised at how loving I can be. It’s intimidating.”

You balled up your napkin and tossed it right at his face. You knew he could have caught it effortlessly, he just took the hit instead. That garnered a laugh out of you and him. 

“That is so not it,” you said. “I know just how loving you can be. With the fact that a scarf is now permanently a part of my wardrobe.”

Leon just chuckled and continued eating. 

The Leon you first met all those years ago after the Racoon City incident would have been flushed at a comment like that. The Leon that sat in front of you was so different. He just smirked as he ate, though you could see the fire behind his eyes. It was crazy to think that you two have been a constant in each other’s lives ever since the motel. Though you two only started becoming serious two years ago. You’ve watched him grow from that innocent rookie into a hardened secret service agent. 

“What?” Leon asked. 

“What, what?” You shot back. 

“You’re staring at me like there’s something on my face.”

“There’s nothing on your face but your face,” you stated simply. 

“It’s a nice face though.”

“Leon, I will beat the smug look off your nice face in a minute,” you tried to sound serious but you just laughed at the end. 

Leon joined in and laughed, “I’d like to see you try.” 

“I would, but I don’t want to set our apartment on fire. Plus the food is good,” you settled. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I said I cooked it myself.”

You finished your last bite and sipped on your wine, thinking. 

“If I had never experienced your previous attempts, then I would believe you. But since I have eaten, and somehow survived all your cooking I’m going with no.” 

“I am hurt,” Leon said as he gulped the last bit of wine.

“You’re just hurt that I saw through your ruse,” you smirked. 

You pushed yourself back and stood to take your plate into the kitchen. Before you could even grab your plate Leon had already gotten up. 

“Let me,” he whispered as he gathered up your used dishes. 

Okay, you thought, this is now suspicious. 

“What are you hiding from me, Leon Kennedy?” You asked your hands firmly on your hips. 

Leon looked at you from over the island. He did that cute head tilt at you, and you knew he was just trying to get your mind off the question at hand. He knew just how much that simple action made you want to smother him in kisses. But he wasn’t going to win you over that easily. 

“I’m not hiding anything,” He said over his shoulder as he focused on shoving the strewn dishes into the sink to be washed later. 

You let out a loud sigh and leaned against the island. 

“Leon, you know you can tell me anything - well - anything you are legally allowed to tell me,” you joked. 

The way that Leon turned and rested his hands against the counter gave you deja vu. You’ve seen this before. The way that he stood, his weird mannerism where he waited on you hand and foot. Made up a special dinner. You knew this, you’ve experienced it a few years prior. Before he left for South America. 

“You’re leaving aren’t you?” You whispered. 

Leon hung his head then his hand went to rub the back of his neck, “Was it that obvious?” 

You smiled sadly, “I know you better than you think. Was all this to soften the blow...like before?” 

“I didn’t mean for it to be that way,” he said sincerely. 

You walked around the island to stand next to him. Gently you pulled his arms away from the counter and sat them on your hips. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Your hands rested at the base. 

“It’s okay, they wouldn’t pick you unless it was a special mission right? They need the best agent possible don’t they,” You gave him your best smile. 

Leon gripped your hips like his life depended on it. It was rare moments like these now where you truly understood the turmoil he has gone through. He started to develop that tough outer shell and wore it as much as he could so it felt like second nature. But he didn’t have to be like that around you. You think he did it on purpose so you wouldn’t worry as much as you did. This only made you worry more, but you weren’t going to tell him that, at least not right now. 

“Wish I wasn’t as special as they see me as,” he muttered. 

“That’s what you get for being you,” you sighed. 

Leon shook his head and engulfed you in a hug. He wrapped his arms tight around your waist and rested his head atop yours. You squished your face to his chest and brought your hands down to massage his shoulders. He sighed into your touch. You’d miss this. 

Great, you thought, I’m already missing stuff and he hasn’t even left yet. 

You didn’t even know when he was supposed to leave. Last time he did this he left the next day, which you were absolutely pissed about. Especially since that was your first month really together after you two went your separate ways, though against your will. The government just had to recruit both of you for very different departments.

Leon more than made up for his bomb drop when he got back, but that didn’t lessen what he did in the first place. If you didn’t pose the question now then you’d never get an answer until it was too late. 

“When are you supposed to go?” You mumbled against him. 

A hand came up to cup your cheek as he pulled away, “I don’t know, I just know it’s soon.” 

“That means you could leave at any time,” You whined, “How long have you known?”

“Only a few days,” he was being honest. 

“That’s not good,” you pouted and rested your head against his shoulder. 

Leon rubbed his thumb up and down your cheek. Then he leaned down ever so slowly to plant a kiss on your lips. It was a sweet embrace in your kitchen. He pulled away first and looked at you. 

“Well we should use our time wisely then,” Leon smirked. 

“What-” you couldn’t even finish your sentence. 

Easily, Leon bent and wisped you off your feet. One arm wrapped around your back and the other cradled the bend of your knees. You clung to his neck as he carried you through the apartment to the bedroom. 

Leon pushed the door open with his foot the biggest smile on his face as he laid you down on the bed. He didn’t give you a chance to react as he straddled your waist pushing your arms above your head. Just like he did before dinner only this time he pressed his lips to yours over and over. 

You giggled in between the quick little kisses. Then you wondered just how much he’s changed. 

“Leon,” you groaned against his lips. 

“What?” He whispered, moving his kisses from your lips to your jawline. 

“Show me what you’ve learned,” you smirked. 

His ministration stopped. His lips froze against your jaw. Slowly, he rose up and stared at the look on your face. Then everything changed. There was a different fire in his eyes now than you’d ever seen before. Leon pressed open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck to your collarbone. His hands left yours and proceeded to rip every single button off the button-down shirt you were wearing. Leon didn’t act like it was that much of an effort as he glided his hands down your chest to squeeze your breasts then down to your waist. He massaged circles into the exposed skin. 

You pouted at your work shirt getting destroyed, but quickly you didn’t even care as Leon nipped at your collarbone with his teeth. You couldn’t help the whine that left your lips and the way that you arched into his touch. You could feel his smile on your skin at your reaction. His hands moved to lift you up slightly and toss the useless shirt to the side. 

The way that he studied you made you squirm underneath his thick thighs that held you tight to the bed. 

“You won’t need this,” Leon said nonchalantly. 

Your brows knitted together as he unclasped your bra with one hand. He held it up like it was a trophy to show off, then threw it over his shoulder. Now with your chest fully exposed to him, he dipped down to continue his trail of kisses. Ever so fucking slowly, he dragged his lips to the valley of your breasts. His fingers ghosted across your stomach to the underside of your breasts. 

Goosebumps erupted across your skin. Your mouth hung open as your breathy moans filled the room. Leon was eating this all up. He took your statement to heart. He trailed his lips to your left breast. He cupped it with his hand and gave you a gentle squeeze before he took your nipple into his mouth. Almost fucking expertly he swirled his tongue around. He started off slow like he was curious about how you’d react. When you pushed yourself closer to his mouth he took his queue to speed up his lapping. 

Heat pooled in your stomach hard and fast. Your eyes screwed shut just enjoying the way he was taking care of you. Your hands skirted up his arms and settled in his hair. You tugged lightly on his locks and the moan that came out of his mouth vibrated throughout your chest. 

“Fuck,” you whined. 

Leon pulled away and you wanted to protest until he raised his head and smirked. Leon’s mouth formed into an ‘o’ as he blew on your sensitive nipple. The noise that left your mouth made Leon’s pants just a little bit too tight for comfort. 

All he could think about was you and having you make that sound again. But he was getting restless, he wanted to really show you what he’s learned. Leon’s hands covered both of your breasts. He gently massaged them as he kissed down your torso. Eliciting small moans from you. The sounds were his favorite to hear as he got to the waistband of your pants. You were still wearing your work clothes, he didn’t even give you time to change. He already ruined one of your work shirts, and you were sure he was going to ruin your pants too. But he didn’t. 

Instead, he let his hands explore the expanse of your naked skin until he got to your hips. Carefully, he unbuttoned your pants. He fluttered his eyes up to yours as he pulled the zipper down with his teeth. 

Holy shit. 

Your face was flushed and your mind was on fire at just how sensual that one movement was. Leon’s hands traveled up your covered thighs until he grabbed a handful of your ass. You shot your hips up and he took that second to dig his fingers into the waistband of your pants and pulled them off your legs. You gasped at how smooth and easy that was for him to do that. 

Leon stood up and pressed a hard kiss to your lips. You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him close. Your hands stayed in his hair as you deepened the kiss with a tilt. One of his hands ran up your thigh and the other to your shoulder blades. Leon took your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled gently. Then he pulled you to the edge of the bed in one swift motion. Before you could protest him breaking your kiss, he was already pushing your legs apart and settling on his knees in between them. 

Was this the same Leon you had sex with after Racoon City? That question kept buzzing in your head the more he surprised you. 

Your thoughts left you as you felt his fingers ghosted over your entrance. His light touch felt nonexistent, but the warmth was still there. You made a move to scoot down closer to his touch. Leon stopped that with a hand on your stomach. 

You couldn’t see the smirk on his face but you knew it was there. 

“So eager,” he whispered to himself. 

Leon placed soft kisses along the inside of your thigh. He started at your knee and got close to your core then moved to the other thigh and did the same. This teasing was going to ruin you, and he knew it. His hand stayed ever so close to where you wanted them to be, but he didn’t place enough pressure to make you feel anything other than anger. 

Your legs started to shake on the edge of the bed. Leon took the hand that held you down and adjusted you to where your thighs rested on his shoulders. You crossed your ankles that rested against his back. 

He was trapped. Or were you?

Leon gently pressed his forefinger against your cloth-covered entrance. Your underwear was soaked. He didn’t care as he drugged the finger up and down at the slowest possible pace known to man. It was just enough to have you feel something. You rolled into his touch, desperate for anything. 

Leon tsked, “Relax, and let me take care of you.”

You took a deep breath and did exactly what he said to do. Relax. 

You actively had to let the tension in your body go and just focus on him. You slowed your breathing down and just let yourself feel. The arbitrary thoughts in your mind of where he’s going or when were forced away to a distant spot in your mind that you’d unpack much later. 

It didn’t take Leon long to see the change in your demeanor. A small smile tugged at his lips. Leon placed a bit more pressure against you as he flicked his finger up and down. Your breathing quickened over the slightest change. He did it again. Your thighs tensed slightly on his shoulders. Which made him chuckle quietly. Leon just wanted to tease you as you do to him, and it was working.

When he saw how you balled your fist and your knuckles started changing color, he thought you’ve probably had enough. Leon fiddled with his pocket and pulled out a small folding knife. 

“I hope you don’t care about these,” Leon stated. 

You lifted your head and your eyes widened at the knife that was in his hands. The cool tip of the blade was pressed flat against your skin and under the band of your underwear on your left leg. Your heart ran like a fucking racehorse as you quickly nodded your head. 

A smirk played on his lips, then the ripping sound of fabric filled the room. Leon cut the other side in a quick motion like it was nothing. Within a second he pulled the fabric down and threw it below him. You were fully exposed to him. Leon pulled you just enough off the edge of the bed were your ass hung off. He kept you up easily as his arms wrapped around your hips, his hands splayed out on your stomach. 

You took one look down to see how blown his eyes were. Leon kept eye contact with you as he moved closer to your core. You could feel his breath on your thighs and you shook as he placed the flat of his tongue against you then dragged it all the way up. The loudest groan erupted from your throat and that just egged Leon on. Steadily he did it again. And again just as slow. Your hands reached for his hair and tangled in his soft locks. You gripped on him like your life depended on it. 

And it did. 

Leon stuck his tongue inside you and moved ever so slowly up and down. His tongue sent electricity throughout your entire body with how slow he was eating you out. The slow build of your release coiled in your stomach. It felt like a wave washed over you. You didn’t even realize that your thighs had closed around his head. Leon didn’t even seem to care as he just focused on you. 

One of his hands stayed splayed on your stomach as the other dropped to your entrance. Leon took his time as he pushed one finger easily inside you. Your legs twitched. Your back arched, but his hand kept you locked to the bed.

Loud moans filled your lungs as he pumped his finger in and out, twisting and curling it around your walls. This felt just like heaven as he pushed another finger in and you gasped. 

Your head was in the clouds with how well he was treating you right now. It was almost too much as you felt the heat all too apparent all over your body. You were so close to one of the most enjoyable highs of your life, getting off from Leon’s tongue and fingers. Just as you were about to scream his name he abruptly pulled away from you. The waves that washed over you pulled you under and you started drowning. All the wonderful sensation that you were riding out crashed into a wall. 

“Why,” you breathed. It took all of your strength to mutter that one word. 

Leon licked his lips so nonchalantly, “I want to give you more.”

That line knocked the wind out of your chest. That’s what you said to him all those years ago. He still remembered. You were baffled, you couldn’t even speak. Leon parted your legs and stood from his position. Easily, he lifted you so you were fully on the bed. Your entire body was hot and flushed from the euphoria you were experiencing before he decided to stop. 

Leon kept his eyes on you as he lifted the edge of his shirt and tossed it to the side completely unapologetic. You ran a hand through your hair and watched him unbuckle his belt and slide his pants down his thick toned legs. The tent in his boxers was evident as he snapped the waistband. You followed him as he walked to his side of the bed. He went to the top drawer and pulled out a condom. 

You shivered in anticipation as he took his previous spot at the end of the bed in front of you.

Leon took a small breath and ran his hand through his hair. He bit the edge of the condom wrapper and held it in his teeth. Both of his hands dipped into his waistband to push the boxers off his body. You bit your lip, your boyfriend fully naked in front of you. You pushed yourself up on your elbows to take him in his full form. Little scars covered his body from the years of training and the few missions he had gone on. Though the most prominent was the little circle on his left shoulder where he got shot almost six years ago. Every time you saw him shirtless your eyes would first travel to that spot with your shitty patch job that probably made the scarring more apparent. 

That was one of the first real moments you two shared and you smiled at your reminiscing until you felt the bed dip. You stared as he put one knee on the edge. He had his cock in his hand and was softly pumping it as he watched you. Leon’s beautiful lips were hung open as he ripped the condom open and slid it over himself.

Slowly, he made his way in between your legs again. His erection laid heavy on your stomach as he dipped down to capture your lips in a rough kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut. You cupped his cheek and held him close, deepening the kiss with a slight tilt of your head. Leon groaned and you swallowed the sound, wanting nothing more than to just be close to him. 

He pulled back and caged you with his hands next to your head. 

You smiled, “I love you.”

Leon shivered at your proclamation. You two rarely ever said those words out loud; you had other ways of expressing the concept of love. Leon only ever saved those three words for anniversaries and when...he...left… 

He dipped down for another kiss. He dragged his lips across your cheek, down your jaw, then to the curve of your neck. 

Leon kissed the shell of your ear and whispered, “I love you.” 

The words were husky and thick with emotion and the realization that he’d be leaving at a moment's notice hit hard. 

“Love me,” you whimper. 

With that, Leon stood back upon his knees. He settled himself between your legs. The tip pressed against your entrance softly, like he was afraid to break you. Leon adjusted his hips slightly and pushed himself fully inside you. You sighed as he bottomed out, his hips flush with yours. 

Neither of you wanted to move just yet. You were connected in the most primal sense. You let your head dig into the pillows to stare up at Leon. He looked so content, the flush on his face complimented him well. 

With the slightest movement, he pulled out then back in at an agonizingly slow pace. Every nerve in your body was overloaded at this point. Leon wanted to spend as much time with you as he possibly could. You knew he would drag this out as long as you both could tolerate, but you were already edged once and you didn’t think you could survive that again. 

You whined as he leisurely pushed into you as far as he could possibly go then pulled out at the same pace. It was slow going, the heat in your stomach felt like lava burning through your skin.  

As your hips met again, you enveloped your legs around his waist and locked your ankles tightly at the small of his back. Leon fell forward at your force a moan falling from his lips as he caught himself with his hands. You smirked. He looked at the smug look on your face and wiped it away with his lips devouring yours. 

Your brows furrowed together at the intensity of his kiss. Then your entire being shook as he moved his hips quickly and slammed into you. You felt the entire bed move at that one thrust. 

Fucking hell. 

Then he did it again and didn’t stop the relentless pace. You were sure there was going to be a hole in the wall where the headboard rested and you didn’t fucking care. All you could focus on was how his hips slapped hard against yours. How he filled you so deep and so fully. You wouldn’t ever feel this way with anyone else. Leon really showed you what he had learned and you were soaking up every moment of it. 

The wave of pleasure drenched your body in a layer of sweat. The heat in your stomach morphed into electricity that sent shocks through your body you could barely feel your fingers. You screwed your eyes shut and reached for Leon’s wrists that were by your head. You dug your fingernails into his skin and he hissed, but neither of you cared. You needed something to hold onto for dear life. 

Leon captured your lips and you lost it. Your toes curled as your walls clenched. The dam broke and your orgasm hit you hard and all at once. You moaned deeply in Leon’s mouth and he drank it up easily as he came with you. You could feel it inside you. You both breathed hard, not wanted to let go immediately. Leon peppered kisses on your cheek. After a minute, he slowly pulled out of you and sat back on his knees. 

With a look, you could tell how drained he was, but the corner of his lips tugged up slightly as he saw how ruined you looked. Your legs visibly shook and your chest rises rapidly. 

You lick your lips, “I’m going to need a shower now.” 

“You’re welcome.”

Leon peeled the condom off him and tied it into a knot. His legs wobbled as he threw it in the trash in the bathroom. 

You stretched out your legs and sighed at the feeling. 

“Well?” Leon asked. 

You turned your head to see him leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed which just accented his toned muscles. You held your bottom lip in your mouth tightly, then smiled. 

“You’ve certainly...blown my mind, Leon, what happened to that shy rookie?” You pouted as you sat up. 

Leon rolled his eyes, “You happened. You ruined me.” 

You scoffed and feigned innocence. 

“Me? I could never,” you smiled. 

You stretched your arms out towards him. Leon took the few steps to the bed and entangled his fingers with yours. With a tug, he pulled you up and dragged you to the bathroom. He turned the water on. In the meantime, as the water warmed up, he engulfed you in his large arms trapping you against his body. Leon’s hands rested on the small of your back. 

“What would I do without you?” he questioned. 

Your fingers followed the curve of his collar bone then to the small scar. You mused for a moment. 

“Probably would have gotten tetanus and lost a limb by now if it wasn’t for me.” 

Leon pinched you and you giggled. The water started to steam and fog up the mirror. He pulled away only to drag you both into the shower. You two stood under the stream still intertwined together. The warm water soothed both of your aching muscles. 

You pressed a kiss to his exposed neck and leaned against his shoulder. 

“Promise me you’ll come home,” you pleaded. 

“Promise,” he replied. 

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 25: Vilify

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Twenty Five: Vilify

Note: *Nervous laughter transitions into nervous crying* I just- shit. I’ve got nothing.

(-~-)

The door loomed at the end of the hallway, black and oozing clouds of icy mist from its center and outer edges like the maw of some unknowable beast. The thick layer of frost that had once been on the windows that were present in the middle of each side of the door had now migrated upwards towards the ceiling, freezing the windows solid. For a moment, they entertained the idea that the doors might very well be frozen solid and that there may not actually be a way to open them. But one thing was for certain: whatever was on the other side of this door was cold. Very cold.

As they approached, a flicker of light could be seen from the other side of the door as if someone or something had just gone past. The light moved from right to left in a quick burst as though something had quickly dashed past, but had made no effort to conceal itself. They stopped dead in their tracks as they waited to see what would happen, unsure as to what they might be up against. A low rhythmic thudding could be heard from some unknown place, each step they took seemingly bouncing off of the impossibly echoey walls and amplifying the sound of the accursed thudding. It grew louder and louder until it began to double up, indicating to them that the rhythm of the sound was, in fact, that of a heartbeat, its speed quickening as they inched closer and closer to the door.

V examined the door for a moment as they finally got up close to it, noting the thick layer of film-like ice that had started to cover the doors. It reminded him of pond scum, or the skin that formed on top of a pot of soup if you left it for too long. The only difference was that this was on a vertical surface and was mostly see-through, easily falling away towards the floor and shattering or melting under food when he brushed his hand over it. When he tried to wipe away the surface of the door handle, he noticed that the ice had formed on the door again, seemingly unwilling to go without its protective layer of frozen condensation. A quick test tug at the handle yielded the unsurprising result that the door wasn’t going to budge.

Seemingly realizing the fact that they were not going to be able to open a frozen door, Sirrus stepped forward, gently gesturing for V to move so that he could examine the door closer. He looked at each of the handles before migrating to the hinges on both the left and right sides of the two doors, his eyes studying them carefully as he seemed to try to come up with the best possible solution to this problem. After a moment, he put his left hand on the left side door and held it there for a moment, closing his eyes. The door handle began to smoke, and a strange sizzling noise could be heard as plumes of white mist rose up into the air. V got the impression that Sirrus might be doing something that involved heat to the door, but he honestly couldn’t be sure. It was hard to see what the tall redhead was doing with his back turned to him.

“My powers are seemingly mundane, all things considered. He shouldn’t suspect much if he sees me use them.” Sirrus said quietly under his breath as he focused his attention on opening the door. Despite his best efforts to get the door to open, the handle was heating up, but not as much as it should. “This door is being held shut by something stronger than just ice. I should be able to break through it at this temperature, but alas, I am having very little success. Perhaps if I try the hinges…”

He stepped back out of Sirrus’s way, taking a look at the door himself. The moment that the tall man with the vibrant hair had stepped away and released the door handle, it had begun to cool off. Already there were droplets of condensation forming on the door handle, the cool air had not so much as slowed down. V was easily willing to believe that his companion’s assessment of the situation was correct. Everything about this door was just wrong, even in a situation like this.

“Do you think that we could try removing the hinges, or something akin to that?” V asked as he folded his arms, contemplating the situation that he found himself in. This wasn’t something he had too many ideas in regards to. After all, there were only so many ways that you could open a door. “In truth, I can’t say that I really know any other way that we could open this door. I don’t think we can fit through these windows. Maybe the door is locked?”

Sirrus turned to face him, waggling his finger at him as he nodded in apparent agreement, his satisfaction evident. “Yes, that just might work. At the very least I could break one of these windows and make sure that the door isn’t locked from the other side. That could be part of why this door is giving us such trouble.”

With a quick heel turn, Sirrus stood in front of the window to the right of V, peering through it. They both possessed instruments that were blunt enough to be able to break a window, especially one that was frozen. And while V was correct in his assumption that they could not fit through the windows in the doors, his arm could, and that might be just enough to accomplish what he needed to. The worst-case scenario was that they were already unlocked but were frozen shut, or that the doors required a key, but just knowing what they were working with was a good place to start. They would take what they could get at this point.

As V pondered the proper way to stand in order to break the ice with his cane without falling on his face or slipping, Sirrus wrapped the bottom of his jacket around his arm and slammed his elbow into the glass on his side of the door, shattering it easily in one fell swoop. V gave him a blank look, mentally kicking himself for not having thought of that sooner. If the glass was that easy to break, then maybe he was just overthinking this. It would be totally understandable with the state that his mind was in at the moment. That borderline mental breakdown that he had almost had a few minutes ago had genuinely negatively impacted him.

“I believe that I should be able to check if the door is locked or not. Give me just a-” Sirrus started, but he didn’t get the chance to finish his statement.

Reaching up to knock the glass out of the window as he listened to the other man’s statement, V had just enough time to make eye contact with him before a loud boom could be heard from the other side of the door. Sirrus looked slightly alarmed and attempted to withdraw his arm for the hole in the glass that he had made moments ago. But before he could do so, the door was snatched open, the two doors peeling down towards the floor in opposite directions as a loud screeching noise penetrated the air between them. A large, almost transparent hand adorned by a set of long, razor-sharp nails could be seen from the other side of what used to be the doors as it managed to grab the entire door that Sirrus had his arm through and drag it to the depths that it had emerged from. The redheaded man let out a startled yelp before disappearing into the yawning abyss along with the hand and out of V’s line of sight.

V’s mind was racing at a speed so rapid that made even the fastest supercomputers look like they were being operated by dot-matrix cards as he considered the horror of the situation that he was now in. Was Sirrus alright? It was unlikely, but he held on to the small shred of hope that he kept buried deep within himself that he might find his companion alive. He couldn’t break that news to Magnolia, and although he was odd at times, Sirrus was not unkind to him. And yet somehow that was still the least pressing issue at hand.

 What in the hell was with that giant, seemingly transparent hand?! It looked almost like a clear shell with black smoke inside of it, but he was sure that it was probably a bit more complicated than that. The appendage had been gigantic, one finger being nearly as big as he was. One could only hope that whatever the hand belonged to didn't decide to crush Sirrus and dispose of him like so much refuse on the side of the road, because it was most certainly capable of doing so. Anything that could destroy a metal door like that was vast and powerful, and at the moment, V was almost afraid to ask himself what that appendage might belong to. Or should he say “who”?

He was alone now in this strange environment that didn’t have any rime or reason to it, and the only thing he could do was press on and hope for the best, being sure to be careful as he went. He was nearly certain that he was no longer alone, and while he didn’t doubt that he could protect himself, he had no idea what he was up against in this place, and that gave his opponent a clear advantage over him. Not that they really needed another one to begin with. He was already in their territory, and it seemed to possess the ability to change that territory to do what they saw fit. That was a frightening prospect.

“Gees… You think that guy is dead, V? Because if I was the betting type, and I am, I’d be willing to bet that he is.” Griffon chimed in quietly, admittedly taking V off guard. He jolted slightly, his head pirouetting from side to side as he looked for the source of the voice, only to realize a moment later that it was coming from inside of his own head. It seemed that he had a few too many of those these days from what he understood.

“Let us hope that he is not,” V said calmly under his breath, addressing no one in particular as he slid carefully around the crushed wreckage of what used to be the door and stepped into a cold, dark room. The area was shaped like a plus sign with doors going to other areas to his left and right, but he had no interest in exploring them if he did not have to. In front of him was a doorway that he assumed might have actual doors, but from what he could see from where he stood, they had either been removed, or they were pushed back against the adjoining walls so far that they were no longer visible. There was, of course, the third option, but it involved the gigantic evil hand that he had seen earlier, so he was going to just pretend that that option didn’t exist. He had no desire to interact with something like that.

Moving onward at a quick but careful pace, he considered his current options. He knew that the spectral hand had taken Sirrus. That much was a fact, and there was no avoiding it. But there was still the question of his own perception. Some elements were physical in regards to the space that he was currently in, but what parts of those elements actually existed in his current reality, and what was the nature of that reality? Was this place in the human world, the underworld, or something else entirely? Did entities in this reality actually possess the ability to control or affect elements of the space around them, or was this all smoke and mirrors? He was willing to believe that at least some part of this situation was influenced by actual reality since Belial needed fragments of his memories to construct this place, but then how did he explain the physical presence of things such as the groceries that he had been able to pick up and touch, or the doors that he could and could not open? What were the limitations of a place like this, and how much did his adversary know about him and his allies? There was so much that he did not understand.

A part of him wanted to believe that he might somehow still be in the human world, and it was simply his understanding of his surroundings that had changed. In spite of everything, he cracked a brief smirk at the mental image of other random shoppers in the store watching him and Sirrus scramble around in a massive hurry, knocking over things and practically climbing up the shelves in distress and confusion, but somehow he just knew that wasn’t the case. They might have walked through the doors of the store, but this place wasn���t physically part of that building. But that raised another important question, didn’t it?

His mind went back to a previous conversation that he had witnessed between Nero and Lucia’s mother back in her homeland. What had that lovely older woman’s name been? Matier. That was right. It had only been a few days, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Well actually, how long had it been? Everything had been perfectly fine just an hour ago. He regretted the fact that he had ever felt the need to eat food. If not, he could still be at his house, safely within the confines of their warm, not at all cursed walls. But what she had said stuck with him at that moment, and he was admittedly taken aback by the validity and relevance of the answer that she had given his younger brother when he’d asked her such a standard question.

“Why would that knife even be able to do something like that? It is cursed or something? We’ve had it for a while now and nothing like that has happened before.” He had asked.

“Nothing that you know of, young one. If what he describes is true, who among you would be able to tell? After all, we have very little insight as to how the Arcana functions.” She had stated.

Cold, deathly chills ran down his spine as he considered the gravity of that statement for the first time. How would he be able to tell? How far was Belial’s reach in regards to his illusions? All he needed access to was V’s sense of perception to be able to replicate something as complex as a grocery store. Random street signs that he only half-read when he passed them, and buildings that he didn’t pay much attention to could change day to day and he would have never noticed. The people that did and didn’t pass by him each day were of little to no consequence. How well could he fake another person without him noticing, and was that something that he was even capable of doing in the first place? What else had this demon faked without him knowing, and for how long? Just how long could he have been doing something like this without him realizing it? If Sirrus had not clued him into just how strange the store had been initially, he would still be shopping, minding his own business, and going about his day as if nothing was wrong. What was the true extent of his lack of perception in this case? 

Normally things didn’t escape his notice easily. He liked to think that he was at least somewhat intelligent and keeping a close eye on his surroundings was something that he had done his entire life, even when he hadn't wanted to do it. That was one of the only reasons that he had made it as long as he had. But now that he was up against this demon, this unknowable powerful individual who had amassed a cult and sent them after him for reasons he still didn’t fully understand only to then carefully set a trap that he had been non the wiser about, he had no choice but to begin to wonder just how much he could rely on his own mind to fill in the blanks around him.

Paranoia was not something that he could afford to entertain, but in the case of a demon that could easily mimic an entire building, what other choice did he have but to doubt his own sense? He couldn’t trust his own eyes, and his body was reacting to the bitter cold caused by something that probably wasn’t even entirely real to begin with. Those were two sources that were unreliable in a situation like this. All he had left was his ears, his sense of smell, and his touch. Tasting literally anything in this place was completely out of the question. But upon considering that, something occurred to him. There was one thing he could try that pertained to that sensory category that just might work.

Awash with doubt and thoroughly shaken, he raised his hand up to his face and touched his pointer finger to his tongue, holding it there for a second. It was a longshot, but this was something that he might be able to do. He could practically feel Griffon sighing in exasperation as he tried to comprehend what his master was up to now, but unless it worked, he didn’t really have a whole lot to tell him.

Concentrating on his finger as hard as he could in order to be able to tell what he was doing, he felt the air blow towards him. It was a slight thing, but it was present, and as he took a step forward towards the doorway, he could feel the strength of the breeze grow slightly. But just a moment later, the air pulled backward, going in the opposite direction. It then repeated, pushing and pulling slowly as he stepped closer towards the doorway and through the hanging plastic that obscured his view. His blood ran cold for a moment as he realized the terrifying implications of what he had just discovered.

This wasn’t a breeze… it was breath.

Stepping further into the room, he was met by utter darkness, the yawning black abyss seemingly absorbing him as his pulse picked up. There was no telling how large this space was, and that alone was enough to make his already tired legs slightly weak. But that didn’t really matter at this point. One way or another he was going to have to get out of this place, and this imposing room was clearly the way forward.

His blood pumped heavily through every available pathway his body contained, flooding him with a potent mixture of adrenaline. At this point, his body practically distilled the stuff on command. Unfortunately, he found himself in perilous situations often enough for that to be a distinct possibility. He took another hesitant step forward before stopping. Somehow he could just tell that he was standing in front of something, and whatever that something was, it was colossal.

And then they opened. First one and then two, both on opposite sides of the room. Thin slits with long black slits in the middle of them, each about half the length of a train car. Then two smaller slits opened, each higher up and flanking the first two, followed by a smaller one in the very center, forming a sort of fin pattern in the darkness, mere feet away from the young descendant of Sparda. And then they closed, two sets of large sliding flaps, both vertical and then horizontal as they closed briefly before reopening. 

He blanched slightly as he stepped back, turning pale as his stomach hit the floor. Eyes. These were eyes. And then a moment later, the rippling darkness moved closer, revealing a large almost liquid-like surface that matched the iridescent, transparent black surface that was oh so reminiscent of the hand that had taken his companion mere minutes ago. He had found the source of the darkness. And although he was too paralyzed with disbelief to say as much, he knew exactly what this creature was.

“Excellent. I was hoping that you would come eventually, and you didn’t disappoint me. In fact, you took less time than I imagined you would to arrive. Good. I do not tolerate disappointment.” The being spoke without speaking, its voice somehow echoing through the space that they both occupied as it bounced off of unseen walls. V fought the urge to flinch, but gritted his teeth in discomfort regardless, unwilling to break eye contact for even a moment. That could easily spell his doom. 

“Did you think there would be no consequences for what was done to bring you back here? That you could take without giving back? I doubt you had much say in the matter. But that is irrelevant now. I see everything, and now I have you exactly where I want you.” It slid forward in one long, swift motion, forcing him to step back in order to avoid touching the gargantuan face that he was presented back. One could only imagine that it was extending its neck, if it had one. As he took one step and then another, he reached backward, grasping towards the door. Against his better judgment, he stole a glance in the direction of the door, only to find that, to his horror, it was no longer there. Only the endless expanse of darkness that now surrounded him. Whatever this place was, he was now in it, and there was no clear way out. What was he going to do?

“You seem uncomfortable, child. Let me fix that for you.” It said, its booming, dark voice vibrating the walls as it almost laughed in amusement at this situation that it found itself in. The floor beneath V rippled like the surface of the face before him, tendrils of blackness suddenly erupting from beneath him and insnaring him, pulling him upwards and coiling around him like the roots of a tree. He was anchored in place, and there was no fighting back. 

Every muscle in his body tried to fight his restraints, but they failed virtually the moment they even manifested the will to attempt to combat such immense otherworldly strength. He briefly imagined that this was what it would feel like to try and move a cinderblock wall up a steep mountain with your teeth, but it wasn’t like he had any baseline to compare that to. And although he was glad for that, he couldn’t say that he was looking forward to whatever was going to happen next.

With a wispy wheeze-like gasp, V coughed, suddenly feeling the breath leave his body as the tentacles clasped around him tightly. He got the impression that this was being done to restrain him instead of smothering him to death, but it was borderline painful regardless of the intention behind it. Looking forward, he locked eyes with the large face as it loomed over him, inching closer as it nearly touched him. He could feel its breath despite no apparent opening. It seemed that Vergil had been right in that assessment. Oh, how he desperately wished that wasn’t the case… 

“Ah yes,  where are my manners? You are my honored guest, after all.” V got the impression that the entity before him was grinning ear to ear, and the fact that it possessed no mouth somehow made that a million times worse. Introductions then. I am Belial, your host… And we have business to discuss.”

(-~-)

Nope nope nope nope nope! I’m going to go hide in the comment section where it is still at least a little bit safe. I’m telling you now, next week is going to be WILD. I spent so much time editing the final draft for the physical release that I think I’ve gone mad from sleep deprivation... 

[inspirationdivine]

The Piano, Revisited || Simon and Lydia

Timing: Current Parties: @inspirationdivine, @inconvenientsimonstrocity Summary: It’s never just about a piano, or a dog. 

Simon had to make several conscientious efforts to not go out of his way to make the place look unnaturally immaculate though he did the very best he could with what he was given - the couch was still worn but it now sat against the far wall next to the doorway that led to his bedroom. One could no longer tell there were birds in the house as every downy feather had been collected and discarded, his old television set having been disposed of and replaced with a small but superior one that was placed opposite the couch, next to the front door. His kitchen still needed to be remodeled but at least it was clean now with functional utilities. The beautiful piano Lydia had given him admired the sun coming through the fixed window that faced the wall entirely made of bookshelf. He himself sat at that piano patiently as he waited for his guest to arrive, learning a new melody from a random piano book he bought during his outing for supplies for his dog and pausing every now and then to collect the ball Beans brought him with obvious excitement, throwing it as far as it could go - he usually aimed under his bed as that encourage Beans to burrow. All things considered, given what happened last week, he was determined for this to be a light visit. The only thing keeping it from being perfect (aside from things he couldn’t control) was his near-constant sniffling. 

Even when she wasn’t being petulant about the state of affairs, Lydia wasn’t… thrilled with the outer appears of Simon’s home. Rustic was a generous word, but one that local hipsters might have used, but Lydia wouldn’t have. If it hadn’t been for the man who lived here, she wouldn’t have given the place a second look. There was a bounce in her step as she walked up to his door, a gentle thrill. There had been a most welcome gap in her life in his absence, but it was still a gap. She’d grown accustomed to his gentle ways. Not immediately spotting a doorbell, Lydia gave a gentle knock. Well, it made sense that there wasn’t the sound of a doorbell because Simon took that bad boy out as soon as he moved in - that was high up on his priority list given his own… sensitivities. Both of them heard the knock almost simultaneously and Beans, not quite trained yet that knocking on the door did not constitute yelling at it, excitedly bounced around and yapped. Simon, who had trouble containing a smile in spite of the dog’s less-than-stellar behaviour, gently shushed his new companion and went to the door to open it for his old one; forcibly bonded once, now separated only from that invisible tether. He felt his heart flutter at the aspect of seeing her again though he still couldn’t figure out why. Scooping up the white terrier and holding him in one strengthened arm, he swung open the door. “Hey, Lydia,” He breathed, his smile widening for her; it hadn’t been that long but he felt an uncharacteristic longing to just… be near her again. “Er… come in,” He stepped aside to give her room, still holding the dog as he squirmed with… such excitement. SO EXCITED.

Despite, in theory, knowing that there was a dog there, Lydia still startled at the sound of excited yapping behind the door, although she’d smoothed her face by the time Simon had opened the door. His smile was a mile wide, and she smiled  in return, in a lopsided smirking way. “Hello Simon,” she replied, before turning her gaze to the fluffy white dog in his arm, snuffling at her curiously. She offered her hand, gently curled, for the pup to sniff. She’d never had a pet in her life that didn’t answer back, but Lydia understood the simple, sweet pleasure of dogs. After a long, curious sniff and a quick lick of her knuckles, she seemed to have just enough of Bean’s approval to deserve a small pet. Lydia stepped inside, her glamour unfurling around her like sepals around a flower as the door was closed behind the two of them. “Wow,” Lydia said softly, looking around the space, transformed completely in the week since Simon had been back. Lydia turned to compliment him, but only then noticed the puffy red around his eyes. “Simon? Is everything alright? Have you been crying?” Once the door was closed, Simon carefully set Beans down where the dog proceeded to zoom around the house, passing by Lydia and stopping every time to sniff at her briefly as though every time was the first before rushing off again. Simon found it easier to keep his gaze on the animal than other people, even ones he knew like Lydia or Ariana but he managed to put his eyes on Lydia’s natural state once more, having since grown used to her ethereal beauty. His smile, though not dissipating, did falter ever-so-slightly when she asked about what he had been doing. He thought, for a moment, about telling her that he had been - every other wolf in their makeshift pack had been through an ordeal in some form or another, each one only bothering to tell him when he reached out… it wasn’t about him, it never was and that was fine but he felt like he worked really hard to maintain communication and, ironically, it always seemed to fall on deaf ears. He would’ve been lying. “No. Er, I mean-- yes, everything’s fine, relatively speaking” He stuttered out an answer, deciding to dodge it altogether though the mention subconsciously made him reach up to rub at one of his eyes with the heel of a hand as though that would fix it - but really, his eyes just itched. All the time. “Sorry.” And there came the first apology. “It’s really nothing.” He dismissed and looked away from her, motioning about the house. “I, uh… did some rearranging.”

Lydia crossed her arms, raising one sharp eyebrow. “Simon, I don’t believe you.” Relatively speaking meant that anything could be true. Relative to being dead, relative to being actively tortured. It wasn’t a lie, so it didn’t heat up any rage simmering inside her, but that didn’t make it true. He rubbed at his eye and perhaps without noticing, sniffled. She looked down to the dog, sniffing at her ankles, perhaps for all the solvent scents and human lingering on her. The dog tilted its head, as if listening for something, but then darted off to try to get off and under the couch. “My dear, your eyes are red. You don’t look well. If it’s really nothing, is it drugs? Are you unwell?” She wasn’t taking the bait. Well, it wasn’t even bait, it was just a distraction from himself, again, as usual. Even when Simon was at work, he kept his eyes on his hands in the bathroom due to lingering neglect for how he looked but she wasn’t the first person in the past couple weeks to say the phrase ‘you don’t look well’. Frankly, part of him didn’t understand; he didn’t think he ever looked particularly well between his wrecked diet and lack of good sleep. How far into denial was he willing to wade, was his new question. “It’s not… drugs,” He replied first, taking a step back and looking at the floor, his smile now only half-present and half-hearted. If anything, it was the LACK of drugs - nasal spray had been a bust, and he’d be ashamed if someone saw the veritable collection of different bottles he’d acquired and stored in one of his cabinets, none of which were prescriptions and all of them were at varying levels of empty; for the record, he DID take a… generous dose of… he couldn’t be arsed with remembering which one it was, anymore. Suffice it to say, his empty stomach didn’t agree with it. Maybe he should be honest; after all, it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s just alle-- uhm… Rhinitis,” He cut himself off with a harsh clear of his throat as if the word was uncomfortable in his mouth. Whyyyy did he say that. He rubbed his eyes again followed by his pointed nose and his nervous tic called his hand to the gnarled scars on his shoulder where he started to scratch at them. “Can I, er… get you anything to drink?” Take three. He wanted to move, he HAD to move but he found himself stuck in place as he was being scrutinised by Lydia, almost as if some part of him deep down was desperate to be confronted. He didn’t want that… did he?

“Don’t lie to me,” Lydia replied curtly, her eyes narrowed, her lips pursed. “You don’t have to tell me, but do not lie. I can’t stand it.” She huffed, turning her scrutinising gaze to the dog, the worn couch, anywhere but him. Of course he had secrets, she did too, and their time of sharing so much didn’t mean they had to share now. She’d crunched her teeth together without even noticing it, her wings shifting under the shells of her elytra. The piano was there, open and in use, but Lydia was no longer so excited to see it. Clearly, she had misjudged, inviting herself into a space Simon didn’t really want her. She’d never loved talking on the internet, it was so hard to judge, and he was the type to not ask for anything he wanted unless she pushed it on him. He was also the type to never say no if she pushed something on him. “You can get me whatever you want, but I don’t drink.” Lydia replied, perhaps a little too sharply fae for the man she knew was only barely wolf.

"Lydia, I am terribly allergic to dogs." The sentence rumbled out of Simon’s mouth in a growl accompanied with the loud sound of ripping fabric before he had a chance to stop it and the millisecond the sentence ended, he brought a hand to his mouth similarly to how he did when he raised his voice to Nora. Her body language hadn't gone unnoticed by him as he felt her presence change; he upset her. "I-I'm sorry," he apologised quietly, feeling that his breathing grew erratic, the familiar sense of being confronted making him panic. Did HE want that or… Did the other one want it? "I shouldn't have snapped." He could say all he wanted in the way of apologies but he already snapped and it was his turn to avoid looking at her, glancing at the dog that had tilted his head at the noise and now pranced over to Simon as if smelling something very interesting to him. "I remember you don't drink." he gave a liquid sniffle and he pulled out a half-empty packet of tissues. "I wasn't lying, either, " he added just as quietly. "Rhinitis is scientific terminology. ‘Perennial Allergic Rhinitis’ is the full name." He didn't know why he added that but since he was already wearing on her nerves, he might as well go all the way. 

Lydia took a step back when he growled at her, and fabric ripped around him. His trousers hung on his hips strangely as he backed up, and from one moment from being a towering pillar, he suddenly looked as small as she was, shrinking in on himself like a flower at night. She watched the way his long, wiry fingers dug into his pocket uncertainly, sniffling again, and his eyes looked like they might water. She swallowed, her ice blue eyes softening to brown glamours for a moment. Guilty. That was the name of this particular feeling. "Simon, I think this time I should say sorry, for accusing you of lying. You don't need to apologise for snapping, either. I was in the wrong. But…" Lydia hesitated for a second, looking back to Beans. "Simon, why did you adopt a dog if you're allergic? Why try to hide that?" It wasn’t Simon’s intention at all to scare her or even to get her to apologise; if he had just been honest with her in the first place, this whole thing wouldn’t have happened. If he were honest with HIMSELF, it wouldn’t have happened. The way she said his name seemed to calm him down, though he wasn’t sure why. He gulped and kept his head low, his brow furrowing. “Because… Deirdre couldn’t keep him,” He started; that was the reason for taking the dog. “And… I just--” He wiped his eyes with the tissue, feeling emotional tears starting to well and mix with the allergic ones that spiked his eyes as he forced himself to answer the rest. “This dog is the first creature I’ve ever interacted with that seems… happy to see me.” His voice wavered. “He doesn’t talk about me behind my back. He’s always excited to spend time with me, he looks forward to when I come home… He trusts in me, depends on me.” He wanted to stop everything; stop talking, stop being on the verge of crying, stop itching and sneezing and thinking, just stop. But he didn’t; couldn’t. “He makes me feel like I’m needed.” Every tear he wiped away on his face was replaced with a new one as he kept his gaze on Beans. “No one’s ever made me feel like that before.” He said with a timid certainty, even as he talked to Lydia because he knew she certainly didn’t need him. No one in what they called a “wolf pack” did, no other people he called friends in town did… “He makes me feel like I’m not so... alone.” Once he was done with his confession, he coughed out a broken laugh and blew his nose. “Sorry… ‘me me me’. I’m being selfish.” He gave a watery smile as he kept trying to clean up his face. “You weren’t in the wrong.”

Her hands curled over his. Lydia had stood still, listening to him as everything he’d hid fell out through crumbling walls. She’d taken in his tears, the way his head ducked and his chin trembled. At the end of all this, it was all she could really do, taking his hand in hers.Lydia opened her mouth, once, twice, and swallowed herself. There was a crease between her brows as she looked at him. Really looked at him, beyond the stickiness and the job and the musical skill. “Yes, You, you, you. I imagine that’s more you’ve said about Simon Donovan than you have all year. You don’t sound selfish, my love, you sound like you’re in need of someone to listen. Well, that and more tissues.” Lydia swallowed, and tugged him, gently, toward the couch. She thought of the message from Ariana, implying that they were wolves together. She thought of Regan, cordial at best. Nora, who was currently without name but had been taking care of Simon’s home. How she’d left when he’d snapped at her. “Simon, it’s okay to talk about things when you’re upset. I know… I’m not exactly approachable, but you can talk to me. It’s okay.” Simon felt her hands on his, how strange it felt but how it was something gentle against his white knuckles from how tightly they had balled. That was perhaps the first time someone who wasn’t in the process of hiring him had said his whole name and he gave another small laugh at her mentioning needing more tissues; she certainly wasn’t wrong with the mess he must’ve looked. He easily allowed himself to be led to the couch by her, feeling for a moment as heavy as the pressure was evident in his sinuses but the second he started to actually sit down, he felt a sharp pain as though someone had tried to pull on a limb so hard as to dislocate it. He felt his pelvis jerk forward to distance himself from the couch and felt something unfurl behind him, which gave him the okay to actually sit down this time as a long, thin, scraggly tail, very deep brown in colour, rested on the cushion next to him - and one he hadn’t paid ANY mind to and had no idea was there. They hadn’t sat for very long when Beans welcomed himself into Simon’s lap and tried as he did to get his tongue to connect to Simon’s face, the werewolf managed to keep the excited dog at bay gently. He listened to everything Lydia said carefully and though she said it was okay several times, he was having immense difficulty justifying his confession, hating that he put her on the spot like that. “It’s not right of me to put that burden on you,” He said, his voice scratching through the congestion and the buildup in his throat from crying. He cleared it and licked his bottom lip in thought, keeping his head down but looking at Lydia tentatively. “I’m not-- I shouldn’t be upset. I have nothing to be upset about,” He exhaled. He was silent for a long moment. “S… Thank you, Lydia.” His tone was… his. “For, uh… tolerating my childishness.” The timid smile that lingered on his face crept back on shyly. “You came to hear the piano, not to entertain my emotional outburst.”

Simon may not have paid any attention to the long tail he had suddenly sprouted, but Lydia sure did, eyeing it with concern for a long moment before looking back up at him. It wasn’t nearly sunset, nor near the full moon, so surely it was fine, right? Not a problem. She was interrupted by the little white fluff ball jumping onto Simon’s lap, clambering all over him. Lydia huffed a small laugh at Beans, but returned her keen eyes back to Simon himself, as he finally began to talk. “That’s funny,” she replied, her eyebrows raised. “It sounded like you had a lot to be upset about.” She leant back a little, against the back of the couch, and slowly put her hand on his shoulder. Slid it across his back. “Well, yes, I did come for one and not the other, but I also came for the pleasure of your company, Simon. All of your company, not just one convenient facet of it which suits my nebulous desires. If you don’t want to dwell, then we shan’t. Just don’t dismiss yourself for my comfort.” Simon hesitated to respond at first and only felt himself relaxing subconsciously when she put her hand on his shoulder, moving it to his back and he closed his eyes for a moment. He wanted to stretch into her hand like, well, a dog nosing into the palm of their human to pet them some more but he refrained and took the simple gesture as it came; sweet, gentle, her connecting with him this time. “I, uh… enjoy your company, too,” He replied, opening his eyes again. He was still being honest and he didn’t even mean it in an intimate way; he just liked being around others. He always liked that. “I think I’m okay,” He responded after another pause. He gave her another smile. “Thanks again for--” And he suddenly stopped, his head tilting sharply as he heard what sounded like a rhythmic thumping next to him. He glanced down and almost jumped up from surprise when he saw the-- HIS tail wagging beside his leg. Was that his? Why did it look like that? WHY WAS IT HERE? He had some questions but not as immediately as the gasp that got caught in his throat pricked into his nose and he jerked his head sharply away from Lydia and the dog that had since lounged on his lap to sneeze. Twice. Three times. Four-- nope, only three. “Sorry,” He gasped, using a new tissue this time as Beans glanced up as if to ask what was going on and why his bed was suddenly spasming. “Th.. uh. This is new,” He remarked with a sniffle, pointing to the tail that stopped wagging. “I’m… sorry, that’s-- this is-- yes, I’d rather just… play the piano for you.” He concluded lamely. 

“All right, my love,” Lydia said softly, patting his back before she carefully let him go, hand and back at once. She wouldn’t pry further, not when she’d caused this most recent bout of distress. He said he was okay, and she believed- Simon startled away from her as he noticed his own tail, and Lydia sat back to give him space as his whole body tensed. Was he about to shift? No, merely sneeze. “Indeed it is. Simon, darling, are you allergic to… yourself?” She asked curiously, and then nodded. “I’d love to hear you play.” For all intents and purposes, tail and ruined jeans aside, Simon did feel better. He dwelled in his thoughts often because he was the only person he had to share them with but even sharing them with Lydia accidentally relieved some of the pressure he had been feeling for several weeks now. And even if it was psychosomatic, that she had been lying through her pearly teeth, she told him that he could talk to her or at least mention when something was upsetting him. He still had trouble grasping the concept that it was okay for something to bother him to the effect that he should tell someone what it was but he attributed that unnecessary stubbornness to his not having anyone to talk to except for his parents for the duration of his life and it was something not worth discussing today after he had already accidentally broke down in front of her. He gave a couple pats to Beans’ hindquarters and the dog stood up in his lap, stretching for a moment before hopping down and he stood up shortly after, tail swaying down to rest behind him - that explained why his pants suddenly felt weird. He didn’t know he’d have THAT to look forward to. He… needed new clothes, anyway. “.... . Unfortunately, I am.” He hesitated, as usual, before answering her, finding that that was almost the most embarrassing thing he could’ve admitted. Despite not liking attention, it was hard to actually embarrass him - a lot of things rolled off his back but that one just… it irritated him mentally and literally. “It’s not usually that bad but I think--” He sneezed again. “The dog is exacerbating matters.”  

Lydia tried quite hard to resist the smile that crept up across her face at his admission, so much more shyly admitted. She could almost see him flushing, Lydia thought. “Well that is rather ironic, I must say, and unfortunate. With or without the dog” Not quite as unfortunate as the gaping hole in his trousers, which was rather hard not to look at. The tear was much, much more bizarre than the tail that had caused it - fae had all sorts of anatomical peculiarities relative to many other species, and each was more beautiful than a plain human form. His discomfort was inescapable, but with time perhaps he’d adjust. Lydia trod carefully as Beans tried to follow them over to the piano, twisting in between their legs - in particular Simon’s - and smiled warmly at his set up. Her eyes drifted along the spines of the bookcase, all the sheet music he’d collected over the years. She’d been right to choose for him a piano with brown wood, not black, it would have stood uncomfortably in his home, whereas this fit in with everything else. “So what will you play?” Her patience with him was insurmountable, something Simon was sure to retain as far into the future as his memory would allow. His reddened gaze followed her astutely as she moved with her grace, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he noticed her active care in avoiding Beans, who was probably being a challenge by getting right in the way of where one’s feet should go. It was unfortunate, wasn’t it. He was unfortunate. He had snapped at people, not been available to help them with their problems, offered kind words but nothing else in the way of actually being assisting. He was infected with a parasite that disagreed with his genetic makeup; he was a right mess to look at and deal with, doubly so since the introduction of the dog, which she now knew why he clung to Beans so adamantly. His misery was worth every second so long as he had something… someone to spend his time with. He felt a weight, small but sharp, lifted off of him now that Lydia was sufficiently ‘up to speed’, at least in terms that immediately mattered. “I was thinking of Chopin this time,” He suggested, going over to the piano and sitting on the seat, lifting his tail as though it were the tailcoat on an expensive suit to drape over the back. He was not about to think about how long that would be out or what he’d do to hide it, not right now. Right now, he wasn’t lonely. Not with her and his dog near him to tolerate him, pretend to care, listen. As he rested his fingers on the keys and sifted through his mental library for the right song, he felt a sensation through him gently and a rhythm behind him, feeling the soft brushes of air that a wagging tail dispensed.

[s-j-ace]

The Same Question

Chapter One

Characters: Shuichi Saihara, Ouma Kokichi

Words: 6738

Summary:

After Detective Shuichi Saihara encounters mysterious thief Kokichi Ouma for the first time, a game of cat and mouse ensues as both men ask themselves the same question. Why exactly does the elusive phantom thief do what he does?

Sequel to the events of That’s the Thing About Airplanes and New Plan!

Read on AO3

 Kokichi Ouma had always found it strange how he could sit in a room full of people yet feel utterly alone in the universe at the same time.

 The thought occurred to him once more as he sat among his crew in a little hole in the wall cafe tucked in the shadows of the city of lights, and it was very much out of character. The scenario Kokichi described to his crew, as they drove away from the Louvre in the beat up looking SUVs they had secretly loaded up with stolen plumbing parts, was that of a birthday party. They were all twenty something Parisians who had gotten out of bed extra early to take their friend out for a birthday surprise. How fun! How quaint! How unsuspicious!

 … but in reality it was just an excuse for Kokichi to try and shake off the weird mood he was in with decadently sugary crepes. He had pitched it to DICE as a sort of celebratory feast of a heist well done, but honestly Kokichi had never felt so bored after stealing something in his whole life.

 For some reason or another he had felt exhilarated on the plane ride in, but as soon as he got to the actual stealing part everything felt all samey and routine again. He even let Queen make off with a painting of some big dumb flowers that he wanted, hoping that it might spice things up, but now it was just lodged under the seat cushions next to a bunch of fancy looking elbow pipes.

 Ugh.

 Now that he really thought about it the painting would probably make escaping Paris even more boring…  News outlets wouldn't run the headline "Pipes and toilets stolen from the Louvre," when they could run the headline "Priceless painting of pretentious looking flowers stolen from the Louvre." It'd make it easier to sell the plumbing because interpol would be keeping their eyes on the fine art black market instead of Craigslist offers for scrap metal.

 Well maybe that was a good thing. Kokichi didn’t want them to get caught selling the pipes, after all. DICE was a bit of a scrappy group from the start and their heists had been decreasing in profitability recently for the expense of spectacle. Bishop told him that their accounts were doing fine and they had enough cash saved up for some frivolous heists, but Kokichi could do math too and thought Bishop’s accounts were slightly suspect.

 They were probably just telling him that to make him feel better. Maybe they had noticed that something was off with him. Maybe they were planning with the rest of DICE to overthrow him as the boss and put someone less stupid and predicable in charge instead.

 No, Bishop couldn’t do that to him. They weren’t a good enough liar. None of them were good enough liars. Kokichi knew them too well. For instance, right now he knew that Bishop and Ace were having a conversation that Rook was waiting to butt in on, Spade and Club were talking about Mario Kart and Spade was acting like she agreed with what Club was saying even though she didn’t, Queen was pretending to be doing some important coding but was definitely on reddit,  King was planning to shove some whipped cream in Rook’s face as soon as he finished his crepe, and Hearts and Jack were leaning in the corner of the four person booth they had all crammed into like a clown car with their legs on top of everyone else’s with Hearts on top of Jack’s lap about to fall asleep while Jack was very noticeably not noticing even though she definitely did notice because Hearts’ boobs were right in her face.

 There was so much lying happening, so much play acting, yet everything added up into an equation that seemed all the more sincere. DICE were genuinely celebrating another successful heist. For them, nothing was wrong.

 That was so bizarre.

 Everything seemed wrong to Kokichi. He felt trapped. He felt like they were all trapped. How could he ever know that his people were genuinely happy when to his knowledge people had to question everything that they found themselves doing. Take, for example, the crepe he had eaten moments ago. He had eaten it in an odd way where he started from the bottom of the crepe’s fold and ate outwards, preserving a perfect ring of outer crepe rind. It didn’t really enhance the taste in any way, seeing as the crepe had a completely even cook, but Kokichi had insisted it did as he ate it regardless because he knew that was in character of the person he had established himself to be. He was the kind of guy who just casually committed food crimes. It’s not that it didn’t still bring him joy to see the faces of his crew scrunch up in disapproval, but it made him wonder if the rest of them realized the same thing about their own behaviors. That they acted a certain way and thought a certain way because of a tacit, invisible social code of who they should be and how they should act towards others, regardless of their own intrinsic motivations.

 It made it hard to tell what lay behind their faces. If they were really happy behind the smiles.

 They had to be happy, right?

 Yeah, if he looked up happy in the dictionary he’d probably see a photograph of King shoving whipped cream in Rook’s ear. Like he was doing right now.

 Everyone was safe and having a good time, and yet Kokichi felt like he was watching it all happen from a far away place.

  Was Rook really angry as they slugged King in the arm or were they just pretending to be angry because they knew that was the part they had to play in the overall scene of this social interaction?

  Kokichi glanced at the other DICE members’ faces. Spades and Clubs were still having their own conversation about a Blue Shell conspiracy theory, but everyone else seemed to be laughing at or pretending not to laugh at King. The thought occurred to Kokichi that he should probably try to match their facial expressions, but upon inspection he found that he was already grinning full force.

 Weird.

 He let the lie lay flat.

 Immediately everyone turned to look at him. That was normal, he was their boss. If he wasn’t happy it meant something was wrong. Except it was also weird. There used to be times when Kokichi was very young where he could be in the middle of a room full of people say anything he wanted at the top of his voice without being heard. He wasn’t the same person on the outside of his head as he was on the inside of his head and he knew that and he used it to his advantage. But would he ever be able to escape it?

 …

 …

  Okay! That was a series wrap on overanalyzing shit and having memories! Time to not think about any of that ever again!

 “I’m bored of crepes.” He whined. “We should go somewhere else.”

 Instantly everyone’s face lit up with excitement. “We should go somewhere else” had become a sort of ritual phrase that now meant “Convince me what our next heist should be.”

 Everyone started talking at once.

 “There’s this casino-”

 “The Taj Mahal! We should do the-”

 “Fort Knox! I wanna-”

 Kokichi raised his hand and the clamoring voices stopped instantly.

 “One at a time, shortest to tallest, and not so loud.” He nodded slightly to the woman sitting on a stool behind the cash register. They probably didn’t have to worry much about her. It appeared that she only understood french when she took their orders earlier and now she seemed to be checking her phone disinterestedly. They had also chosen to sit in the booth furthest from the register so really there was very little chance she would overhear them say something that would get them in trouble, but you could never be too sure.

 “Well, boss. Most esteemed mastermind. You lovely bastard you,” Spades, the shortest of DICE save for Kokichi himself, schmoozed exaggeratedly. Kokichi could tell she didn’t really have an idea but wanted to draw out her turn as long as possible because Clubs had an idea and she was teasing him like an annoying older sister. She was probably going to pull Buckingham Palace. “I have the best idea. The most creative. The most innovative.” Buckingham Palace was so ridiculously easy to get into that there was entirely no point in wasting a trip to Britain on it. There was some drunk guy who just wandered into it and found the Queen’s bedroom. Twice. “It’ll be tough, but with our unique set of skills I think we’ll be able to pull it off.” So when someone didn’t have an idea, to pass they’d say Buckingham Palace. “And it’ll be well worth it. Our names will go down in history.” And then Kokichi would give a funny excuse why they weren’t going. He should probably start thinking of one now while Spades was still blabbering. “The biggest heist of all time.” Hmm… How about… Yeah that was a good one. “Home of her royal majesty herself, Buckingham Palace!”

 Everyone groaned as if this weren’t an entirely predictable twist to Spade’s monologue.

 “Uggh, Spade you know I can’t go back to Buckingham Palace.” Kokichi groaned. “Last time I was there I saw Prince Phillip dressed in a corgi fursuit being tugged around by the queen on a leash. I’m still trying to erase the image from my mind.”

 That got an easy guffaw from Ace and a smattering of giggles from everyone else. Not bad, but he’d come up with funnier before.

       Jack giggled longer than the others. Kokichi knew that meant she was waiting for everyone to quiet down so she could one up him with her own bit.

       He raised an eyebrow. “Something to say, Jack?”

       “Ooh… Well… I was just wondering if that’s the real reason we can’t go back.”

 She paused for a second as if expecting him to “yes, and” her, but he decided to let her fend for herself on this one.

 “I mean. What was it you said to      your     husband on the plane?” Shit. “Didn’t you tell him you wanted him to beg like a dog?” How much of that conversation did she hear? “I don’t know, sounds like Prince Phillip might’ve awakened something in you.”

       “Awwww,” King crooned, “Boss Baby’s first fetish.”

       Kokichi wasn’t really bothered by this implication beyond the fact that, judging from the smattering of snickers, it was getting better laughs than his original comment. He needed to swing this.

       “Puhlease. Who would be into pet play when feral rats are clearly the sexiest creatures on the planet?”

       “Is that why you spend so much time trying to look just like one?”

       “Why Jack, I’m flattered you think I look just like the sexiest creature on the planet, but I’ll have you know I’m married.”

       Hearts was nice enough to take the bit. “To who?”

       “Not that plane detective?” Bishop prodded. Or maybe they said “plain” detective? Maybe it was a pun. Good on you Bishop.

       “No, heavens no. I’m married to Ratatouille himself.” Kokichi’s rather strangely eaten crepe was about to work out pretty well in the grand scheme of japery. He unfurled the remaining ring of crepe edge and put it around his wrist. “Want proof? Here’s the ring. Isn’t it beautiful?”

       “Gorgeous!” Queen enthused. It didn’t seem like he was really paying attention, with his eyes glued to his laptop, but Kokichi appreciated his support nonetheless.

       Jack frowned. “Isn’t the rat from Ratatouille’s name Remmy?”

       “You’re right it’s not Ratatouille, it’s Ratatouille’s monster.” Rook chimed in, definitely quoting a tumblr post.          “No, no, no, I’m not married to the rat, I’m married to the concept of Ratatouille.” He made a romantic gesture. “The one we hold dear in all of our hearts.”

       “Oh, of course, of course.” Ace tried to nod sagely, but the effect was ruined by the big grin on their face. Ace had a hard time not laughing at everything, especially their own jokes.

       Club had been pouting this whole time. With this whole thing about Kokichi being into dogs diffused it was probably time to hear out his suggestion. Kokichi was about to say as much, but before the mirth died down long enough to change the subject, Queen interjected.

       “Uh, boss.” He said, turning around the laptop he had been fiddling with the whole time. “Speaking of rats… There’s one on the news making himself a loose end...”

       On the screen was a distressed looking headline in french accompanied by a picture of the detective himself, Shuichi Saihara.

       Kokichi’s heart leapt.

       Then he noticed that it leapt.

       And that his hand had begun moving to fiddle with the bandage on his finger.

             He stopped himself just in time.

         ---

       Shuichi Saihara had always found it strange how quickly his body could turn on him.

       He had been fine, on the plane untangling his seat belt while alarmed chattering spread like wild-fire throughout the plane.

       He had been fine, explaining to a frazzled flight attendant and captain that no he was not in fact married to the gentleman who jumped out of the plane, who was, as it turns out, an internationally wanted thief.

       He had been fine, making the call to 112 and explaining to the respondent that yes he knew all the police cars were busy with a high profile break-in and that the incident he was reporting was, in fact, related to said break-in.

       And yet, when he sat down, alone on a bench in front of the Paris-Charles De Gaulle airport surrounded by the crisp night air the thought crossed his mind that DICE had robbed the Louvre by now. That they had gotten away, and it was all his fault. All his fault.

       And then Shuichi pulled out his phone and dialled the number of his very good friend Kaito Momota because he was having a panic attack.

       *Beeeeeep….*

       Shuichi knew he was having a panic attack because it felt like the world was ending for no good reason.

 *Beeeeeep….*

       His breathing got shorter. An immense pressure built up behind his eyes, trying to force tears to leak out from underneath them. His hands locked in a vice grip around his phone.

       *Beeeeeep….*

       Three words repeated in his head over and over again like a broken record.      All your fault. All your fault. All your fault.  

             *Beeeeeep….*

       If Shuichi had any presence of mind right now, it might occur to him that there was, in fact, a reason behind this panic attack. That he’d been privy to and partially responsible for so many high stakes cases in his career that the idea of failure made his imagination sick with all the horrifying outcomes his mistakes could cause, including the ones that had actually come to pass. A man looking at him with hatred in his eyes as the police car door shut on him.      All your fault    . A fourteen year old girl hanging from a noose.      All your fault    . The sound of a gunshot in an alleyway.      All your fault    .  The phrase was like the slightest twitch of a finger that could pull back the trigger of a gun loaded with every horrific thing he’d ever seen, heard, or felt. Everything hit his brain in one compact shot and Shuichi didn’t have time to respond in any way except try desperately to avoid going into shock.

       It felt like the world was ending and when the world is ending you call Kaito Momota.

       *Beee-*

       *Click.*

       “...”

       “...”

       “Shuichi?”

       Kaito’s voice sounded groggy and confused over the phone.

       “...”

 “You there, man?”

       Shuichi tried to answer in the affirmative, but he couldn’t seem to force himself to speak. God, he was an idiot. He should’ve just texted. Kaito probably hated him anyway.

       “What’s up, dude? Something the matter?”

       No, Kaito is his friend and things are fine and he just needs to calm down right now.

       “Hello?”

       Okay. Okay. He was just trying to talk the wrong way. His throat was tensed to accommodate his heavy breathing instead of human speech.

       “Shuichi, is that you breathing weird into the receiver?”

       Yeah, okay, see? He was breathing weird. He should… stop that…

       “Ok, dude, whatever’s going on I’m gonna need you to not asphyxiate. Here, breathe with me. Inhale. Two... Three... Four... Five... Exhale. Two... Three... Four... Five...”

 Oh yeah. Shuichi was definitely breathing too fast right now. Panicky fast. Like close to hyperventilating fast. The kind of breathing fast that started squeezing liquids out of your face if you weren’t careful. Not doing that was like the first thing on the not having a panic attack checklist but somehow it was always the one Shuichi forgot first.

 “Inhale. Two... Three... Four... Five... Exhale. Two... Three... Four... Five...” Kaito repeated the rhythm and Shuichi could hear his friend matching it with his own breathing as Shuichi struggled to do the same.

 Inhale. Two... Three... Four... Five...

 As Shuichi counted in his head he felt almost every part of his body loosen to some degree.

 Exhale. Two... Three... Four... Five...

 With the exhale the pressure behind his eyes began to dissipate.

 Pretty soon Shuichi was breathing in a way that the kids these days would call normal. While breathing normally was something human beings needed to do to not asphyxiate, it was quite shocking how physically helpful it was in preventing Shuichi from crying on a bench in front of an airport in Paris.

 He could still feel his heart pounding in his head, but at least his breaths weren’t fighting to outmatch its volume.

 The pounding went away by about the third exhale. He felt his power of speech return after the fourth.

 “... Sorry.” He murmured into the receiver on his cell phone.

 “Nothing to apologize for man. What’s going on?”

 “I. Uh. Am having a panic attack in front of the airport for some dumb reason.”

 “Gotcha gotcha gotcha.” Some shuffling, as if Kaito was repositioning himself on the other side. “I bet it’s not as dumb as you think man. You wanna talk about it, or do you want a distraction?”

 A woman bleeding out on the floor, her face eternally frozen in a scream.       All your fault    .

 “... A distraction is good. Just having, like, intrusive thoughts right now.”

 “Yeah, okay. Gimme a sec to make myself sociable, it’s pretty late here.” Shuichi heard some more shuffling through the speaker. He’d probably woken Kaito up.

 “Sorry.”

 “It’s all good man.” Kaito shuffled around some more. “Hmm… Oh yeah, I had a question at dinner, no one was around to answer.”                “Oh, is Maki out again?” Maki was Shuichi’s friend, Kaito’s partner, and a professional bodyguard. She stood next to people and looked intimidating in a suit for a living. Sometimes she stood next to Shuichi and looked intimidating for free.

 Maki holding a pipe, the end coated in blood.      All your fault    .

 Inhale. Two... Three... Four... Five... Exhale. Two... Three... Four... Five...

 “Yeah, that’s our Maki Roll. Busy as a bee.” There was a scritching sound over the phone that could’ve been static or Kaito itching his stubble. “Since I was cooking for one last night I made Saturn-ghetti.”

 Shuichi wrinkled his nose instinctively. “Ew.”

 Saturn-ghetti was what Kaito called regular spaghetti with one big meatball in the middle. It sounded tame enough now that Kaito made the big meatball on his own, but when he first introduced Shuichi and Maki to the concept it was in their college’s cafetorium and he had just taken all the meatballs from a regular spaghetti and meatball dish and mashed them all together into one big ball in the middle. Shuichi had quite literally seen murder scenes less gruesome.

 “Hey man, I don’t judge Maki Roll for dipping fries in shakes or you for dipping bread in soups.”

 “Dipping is normal Kaito. You’re supposed to dip carbs. Everyone does it. You’re the only person in the whole world who mushes meat.”

 What about that guy who used a meat tenderizer to mush his victim’s faces in…

 “Why would you want to eat tiny meatballs?”

 “So you can eat them with the spaghetti.”

 “Can’t a guy just have a separate meat and noodle experience? You can’t even process the flavor if you eat both at once!”

 “They’re supposed to go together. Otherwise, you would just make a meatloaf.”

 “Well I don’t have a recipe for meatloaf Shuichi, I have a recipe for meatballs.”

 “Do you mean meatball, singular?”

 “Yes, I do. Glad we can both agree that’s what I mean since it’s the best way to eat spaghetti. Anyway, back to my problem.”

 “I thought this was the problem.”

 “Saturn-ghetti is not a problem it’s an art. My problem was that when I was making the noodles I realized that I had forgotten what that metal bowl thingy is called. You know, the one with the holes in it.”

 “If only that had stopped you.”

 “Yo, I’m serious! I have no idea what it’s called and it’s been driving me insane all night.”

 “Do you mean a strainer?”

 “No, I know it strains stuff but like there’s a different name for it. Like. It sounds like cauliflower? Except not because it’s not a vegetable.”

 “A colander?”

 “Yeah, that’s it! Jeezus Louizus that was driving me crazy. You’re a lifesaver man, where would I be without you?”

 “Uh probably googling ‘another name for noodle strainer.’” Shuichi didn’t really see how knowing what the metal strainy thing is called could save a life. Maybe if you were getting murdered and had one chance to write down the name of the culprit and you knew their name was the same as what that metal strainy thing is called but you forgot what it was. Wait, no, in that scenario you still got murdered. God, what was wrong with him? Did his brain always have to jump to murder right away?

 “Nah,” Kaito said with conviction. “I wouldn’t be half the man I am without my awesome sidekick around to back up.”

 At the familiar phrase, Shuichi felt his heart warm and the tight ball of anxiety in his gut loosened in turn. “Sidekick,” was admittedly an odd term of endearment for a friend of almost ten years, but if you knew Kaito you knew it was a word that meant something to him. To him, having a sidekick means having someone who you backup no matter what. Even if they make mistakes or aren’t sure of themselves quite yet. Because you believe in them. No matter what.

 “I wouldn’t be where I am today without you either, Kaito.” He sighed. “Not that that’s saying much…”

 “What do you mean by that?” Shuichi could hear the frown in Kaito’s voice.

 “Ugh. Nothing. Or. It’s just.” Inhale, two, three, four. Remember to breathe. “It just feels awful to be having a freak out like this again. I haven’t had a panic attack in like a year. It just feels like sometimes that I’m doing okay and I’m not still some stupid teenager still freaking out because I feel a little guilty about a guy being in prison and my parents not being around because of me and then I have a panic attack at an airport and it feels like I’ve made absolutely no progress at all in dealing with any of my anxieties at all and even though I’ve tried so hard to change who I am I’m still the same pathetic kid I’ve always been.”

 Keep breathing. Exhale, two, three, four.

 “Hey man, it’s okay. We all get those days sometimes. You feeling up to talking about it now?”

 “Which part?”

 “Like, why you were freaking out. It’s usually not for no reason, even if it seems like it.”

 “Uh.” Yeah okay. Breathing was really helping to clear out his head. He was feeling more in control of his general brainspace than he was a second ago, which was good. “Honestly it’s not the worst thing that could’ve happened. No one died. All that happened was the Louvre got robbed.”

 “Yeah, okay that doesn’t sound that bad.”

 “But on the other hand, it was the      Louvre     that got robbed. It’s a national treasure here. The whole country is going to blame me for it.”

 “Wait, sorry, what’s the loo in French again? I know it means the toilet in the UK, but does it mean something else in French?”

 “No, not the loo. The Louvre. The famous museum.”

 “Oooh, yeah. Right, right, don’t listen to me I’m tired.”

 “Oh, sorry-”

 “No, no, keep going. Listening to my sidekick’s problems is more important than catching forty winks.”

 “Uh. Right. So I’ve been tracking DICE for a while now, right?”

 “Uh-huh, the clown guys, I’m familiar.”

 “And I know Maki thought I was crazy, but I knew that they were going to pull this job on the Louvre, right? And so I get on the plane and this weird guy sits next to me. He breaks my seat and pretends to be married to me so that the flight attendant upgrades us to first class.”

 “What the hell?”

 “Is that weird? I couldn’t tell if that was weird or not.”

 “No yeah, that’s shady as shit. Do I need to come to Paris and tell him to step off for you?”

 “No, uh, you’d probably have a hard time finding him, because it turns out? He was the thief the whole time?”

 “Whaaaaaat.”                “Yeah, apparently I was just shooting the breeze with a criminal mastermind and I’m such an idiot I should’ve jumped out of the plane after him without a parachute.” Like that guy they found impaled by a lamp post...

 “Hey man that’s on him, you can’t blame yourself for the existence of criminal- wait did you say he jumped out of the plane?”

 “Yes.”

 “Like, while you were in the air?”

 “Uh, yeah, through the emergency exits.”

 “Duuuuude that’s super dangerous. I don’t know how high up you were but the pressure change could’ve caused all of the oxygen to suck out of the cabin.”

 “That’s… Alarming…”

 It also brought up some interesting questions. Shouldn’t the pilot of the plane have been able to tell that there was a life threatening pressure change in the cabin? Or did DICE do something to tamper with the equipment? Did they manage to jump out at an altitude that wouldn’t be lethal to everyone in the cabin through chance or calculation? In the latter case that might add to the traits profiling the group, the ability implying at least some form of higher education. What about other sources of information? Maybe they bribed the pilot? He’d need to be interviewed. Shuichi would need to make that suggestion when the police got here. They’d probably also want to do a forensic analysis of the drug that was used on the passengers. There’d most likely be some trace of component that they could utilize to locate possible business contacts or country of origin for the thieves. Knowing their flight information was also a great advantage, it meant they could track down several forms of ID. Even if they were faked it would allow for higher scrutiny on future flight paths if Interpol decided to pursue this investigation seriously. Toilets wouldn’t really keep their attention, most investigators at the Smithsonian were more concerned about the mammoth than all the stolen picture frames, so unless DICE made off with something more valuable this time around Interpol probably wouldn’t waste time sending agents over. Then again Agent Ishimaru was the agent in charge of the DICE case now and he was very thorough when it came to his investigations. If Interpol showed up, maybe Shuichi would get a chance to look at the next note when it was sent to them, like he had in America...

 “Hey, am I supposed to be able to track everything it is you’re muttering to yourself there or is that just for you?”

 “Oh, uh,” Hghk he was muttering out loud. “Just for me, sorry. Stuff about the case.”

 “Oh, yeah, okay cool, cool, cool.” Kaito paused for a moment. “Wish I could be there to back you up in person, man. Hurts my soul as a man and your friend that I didn’t support you all the way on this Louvre thing when you brought it up before.”

 “What?” Oh, he meant that thing that Maki said about him needing a vacation. “No, no it’s understandable. I was running on like… fifteen minutes of sleep and fourteen cups of coffee when I told you two about my theory.”

 “Man, I just want you to know that no matter what we’re always here to support you. Even if we get it wrong sometimes we’re just worried you know. Also, you need to sleep more.”

 Shuichi frowned. “You make it sound like you and Maki are my parents.”

 “Nah, parents suck. We’re your friends. Much better.”

 Shuichi laughed at that. “Yeah, okay, fair.”

 Was that a siren Shuichi heard? Maybe?

 “Kaito I think police are gonna be here soon. I gotta go.”

 “Oh, yeah, okay. You feeling better now?”

 Shuichi paused to take mental stock of himself. He tried to remember how he felt before he came outside. Things were fine, he was just doing some damage control. By all means this incident was a break in the case rather than the wrecking ball to his career his more panicked thoughts were trying to convince himself of. He was fine. Things were fine.

 Except…

 “Uh. Yeah, mostly. I guess maybe I’m just tired?” Yeah he was definitely tired.  His eyes felt like they’d just spent the last ten years trying to watch the wind on a mountain peak. “I dunno. Logically I know that everything is fine and I’m doing alright, but that part of me that feels like I’ve failed and I’m going to mess everything up forever is still there no matter what I do.”

 “Hey man, you know what I always say. There’s nothing you can do about the past, but you will always have the power to change what’s happening right now. You’re my sidekick and a brilliant detective to boot, you can do anything.”

 “Right. Yeah. You’re right.” It didn’t really matter that DICE had gotten away with the heist on the Louvre. Plumbing parts and paintings were replaceable. What Shuichi’s investigation had always been concerned with was the amount of unregulated capital DICE was accumulating and what exactly the shady organization was planning to do with it.

 “Now tell me what it is you wanna do right now.”

 “I… I’m gonna track down those thieves.” That would have to be the next step of course. There’d probably be some evidence at the Louvre if the police would let him take a look…

 “Heck yes you are!”

 “And I’m going to figure out what they’re up to.”

 “Hell yeah you are!”

 Shuichi laughed a little at Kaito’s unwarranted enthusiasm, but he let the mirth drained from his expression when he looked up to see the police cars he heard before pulling into the lane in front of the airport. An officer stepped out of the first one and Shuichi stood to wave her over.

 “Ah, the police just got here. I gotta talk to them.”

 “Fuck yeah you do!” Kaito exclaimed with the same level of pep talk energy he’d said every other encouragement with. “Go get ‘em Shuichi!”

 “I will.” Shuichi said, not entirely sure.

 “You will.” Kaito said, completely certain.

     I will.     Shuichi repeated to himself as he hung up and made his way over to the police officers. It seemed like there were three cars. That was kind of odd considering the 112 responder said it’d be two cars. Wait, was that last one a news van?

   Shit.

---

 Parisians are in shock after the theft of Dutch painter Van Huysum’s priceless, centuries old  painting “Vase of flowers in a niche” from the musée du Louvre just this morning. The following interview was conducted with M. Saihara, a private eye known for the recovery of a stolen mammoth skeleton from an american museum, called the Smithsonian, just a few weeks ago.

 Journaliste: What can you tell us about the robbery at this time?

 M. Saihara: It is the working theory of the Paris Police force that the culprits behind the break in at the musée du Louvre are the internationally wanted criminal group known as DICE. These police sketches have been released of two members of this group. If you spot anything or anyone suspicious, please report it to the Paris Police Prefecture.

 Journaliste: Are these the same criminals who robbed the Smithsonian in America a few weeks ago?

 M. Saihara: I believe so.

 Journaliste: Is it likely that the robbers are still in Paris?

 M. Saihara: Very likely.

 Journaliste: What are the chances that the stolen piece will be reclaimed?

 M. Saihara: We don’t have enough information to determine that at this time. Just know that the Paris Police Prefecture is doing everything they can to return it to the people of Paris.

 Journaliste: What of the criminals? Is it likely they will be caught?

 M. Saihara: If I have anything to say about it, yes they will be.

 Journaliste: M. Saihara, do you know if-

 M. Saihara: Je suis désolé Mademoiselle, I must be going now. The Paris police will most likely release a more elucidating press statement when more information is received. Bonne journée.

 Journaliste: Merci, M. Saihara.

       Kokichi Ouma exited out of the google translate tab he’d opened up on Queen’s laptop. At the end of the article were two police sketches. Jack’s didn’t look all that accurate (thank god for contouring) so Kokichi supposed they could all breathe a sigh of relief on that front. Now, the sketch of him on the other hand…

       King whistled and Kokichi realized the taller DICE member was leaning over his shoulder to peer at the screen in front of him. “That detective really got a good look at you.”

       Kokichi scoffed, not wanting to raise unnecessary alarm. “Please. The nose and eyebrows are all wrong.”

       “He really got down the bird’s nest though.” King pointed out, reaching to muss up Kokichi’s effortlessly stylish coiffure.

       “What’d I tell you?” Kokichi preened. “No living creature could forget a face like mine.”

       “You’re right,” King quipped back “It’s a face that haunts nightmares.”

       “A face only a mother could love.” Rook chimed in.

       “And yours gave you away after just one look!” Chirped Bishop.

       “Hey maybe that Saihara guy wants to try lovin’ it instead.” Queen interjected suggestively

       “Okay, okay, can it everyone,” Kokichi raised his hand to silence the spontaneous roast. “I’m thinking.”

       “Club,” He pointed at his second shortest croney.. “Where are we heading?”

       Club, who to his credit had been extremely focused on being polite and waiting for his turn and had definitely earned a heist after mixing ten liters of knock-out drugs in the back of a plane, exclaimed, “Theresthiscasino-” like he had been holding his breath, “-andtheyjustgotthesefancynewlightfixtures and, and, alsothesevintagearcadeconsoles-”

       “Sounds cool.” Kokichi’s tone didn’t give away the fact that he had no preference as to where their next hit was and only had getting out of Paris in mind. “Where’s it at?”

       “Uh. Like, Reno. Which is in Nevada. I think.”

       Kokichi frowned. “Nevada? Is that like a country in South America or something?”

       “Nah, it’s one of the United States.” Informed Ace, the only member who ever got genuinely interested in sight-seeing and therefore the only one who looked at maps that weren’t building schematics.

       Kokichi squinted at that. “We were just in the states. You know I’d rather jump off a building than rob the same place twice.”

       “Boss, you know, actually Nevada is further from D.C. than France is from Ukraine.”

       “What? But aren’t they in the same country?”

       “Yeah, the U.S.A. is just broken like that.”

       Ugh. Weird. Maybe Kokichi should also look at a map of the world some day.

       “Fine, okay, I guess since you twisted my arm, we’ll have to go to Reno.” If Kokichi remembered correctly telephones calling from France started with the area code of one of five regions. Paris had the code of 01, but if they were on the western outskirts it may be 02, or 03 on the eastern outskirts. Then the rest of the phone numbers were eight more randomly assigned numbers. “Let’s head out. Queen, do you still have that program for a spam call bot you showed me three months ago?”

       “Uhh maybe, but I’d need wifi for that.”

       “Okay.” He stood up, pulling out his phone to do some quick googling. “We’re gonna split in two groups. Red smiles with me in group one, we’re driving out to the Tours Val de Loire Airport down south. Make sure you have the right cover story IDs, it’s a three hour drive so prepare yourselves. Bishop, you’re going to have to do my makeup in the car. Everyone else will be in the other van with Queen, group A. After you’ve found a source of wifi, you five will be calling in some false reported sightings. Not too many, but enough in specific places we won’t be going that it’ll misdirect the police. I’ve written down the phone number rules for France on this napkin. If it seems like we’re in the clear you can overflow the system if you want to. Message us with progress updates and we’ll confer about flights and cargo control after group one has reached Tours Val de Loire. Group A will take off from the Orly airport and we’ll meet at Reno-Tahoe International in a few days. I've sent a message in the groupchat with everything I’ve just said, so don’t worry if you missed a detail it’s all there verbatim. Let’s get rolling.”

       “Yes, Boss!” The members of DICE said with varying levels of conviction.

       Kokichi handed Queen the napkin he had written on as the rest of DICE started to stand up from the four seater cafe booth they’d all crammed into like a clown car. He grabbed another napkin that he would use to write the next note to interpol. What would the six layers of cipher be this time? What about a set of random symbols equated to numbers that would represent the coordinates of katakana strokes in a one unit box which would then translate to english letters in a polyalphabetic cipher which would reveal the riddle? Wait that was only five layers. Eh, he could work on it in the-

 Kokichi saw detective Saihara’s photograph on the monitor out of the corner of his eye and his swirling thoughts came to a momentary hallt..  It seemed like the picture had been taken hurriedly outside of the Paris de Gaulle. It was blurry and a little dark. All Kokichi could really see was that his shirt was half untucked and his hair was so messy you could hardly tell he had eyes. Kokichi found himself wishing he could get a good look at those eyes. Just to tell what the detective was thinking.

 Not that it mattered.  

       Kokichi closed the computer and slid it over to Queen as he exited the booth.

       As he handed it over, Queen gave him an odd look, like he had noticed something. “Where’d you get that cut, boss?” he asked.

       “I punched through a window with my bare hands, just to feel something again...” Kokichi replied, putting on an exaggerated grimace.

       Queen gave him a look that said ‘what did I expect’ and followed the rest of the gang out of the shop.

       The Louvre heist was as good as over. He’d gotten away with it already.

       Kokichi wondered if any of the heists to come would be at all helpful in the war against tedium he had been fighting his entire life.

 “If I have anything to say about it, yes they will be.”

 Kokichi realized he was fidgeting with the bandage on his finger.

 …

 Good bye, Paris.

[piccolina-mina]

Something Unexpected

Fandom: Roswell, New Mexico

Teaser: He stepped into her space slowly and deliberate. His voice husky as he tucked strands of her blond hair behind her ear and whispered, “You flirting with me, Evans?”

His lips brushed against the shell of her ear, and Kyle chuckled when her breath caught in her throat.

She wet her lips, and his eyes tracked the motion before meeting hers.

“When I really flirt with you, Kyle,” she breathed, making the hairs of his neck stand on end. “You won’t need to ask.”

A/N: For @craashdowns and @queenrikki because … apparently, this is something I do. Like a freaking squish. Shut up! Anyway, here goes. I only skimmed over it, so excuse any and all errors. 

———

She recognized that stride anywhere.

It was all easy confidence and swinging arms, and nothing but swagger. He moved like a panther, slick and quiet down the hallway masterfully shifting his body to accommodate gurneys rushing past and aides pushing wheelchairs.

The coffee cup in her hand burned her palms as she pushed through a break in the hallway and power walked down the hall hoping to catch him before he disappeared.

Fortunately, he stopped at the nurse’s station. He leaned against the counter smiling and signing paperwork.

He must have gotten off of shift. His bag was slung over his shoulder. Scrubs and a lab coat were replaced with fitted jeans and a worn leather jacket draped over a henley.

He smelled divine, as usual. Scent was always a weakness of hers, and Kyle Valenti smelled downright edible.

“I need a favor,” she blurted out without decorum. “No worries, I came bearing gifts.”

She slid the coffee across the counter and flashed a knowing smile. “So, about that favor…”

He released a surprised puff of air, but his eyes crinkled in the corners. His lips curved slightly upward in amusement.

“You need a favor,” he stated rather than asked. “Again.”

It had become a dance of theirs in the months since they spoke at the hospital. Shockingly, they had built up something of a rapport. It was unexpected.

They didn’t exactly run the same circles, but Kyle was kind to her. He was comforting and genuine.

It wasn’t something she forgot. When the latest project or person led her to the hospital halls, something she didn’t want to consider nor name led her to him.

To his credit, he surprised her by never turning her away or appearing the slightest bit put off by her either. It seemed to be just his nature; a Valenti one, she presumed.

“You know, you could always say no,” she teased him. She leaned in and raised a brow mockingly. “You don’t, though.”

He scoffed in surprise or annoyance, she couldn’t figure out which and grabbed the coffee. He studied her quietly while he took a long sip, nodded and headed to the exit knowing she would follow.

Naturally, she did.

“You got my coffee order right,” he observed.

“Maybe I’m psychic,” she deadpanned. “Call it intuition.”

He snorted and shook his head. “How can I be at your service this time?”

“I need the name of the anonymous donor who contributed to the pediatric wing last year.”

He tossed his bag in the backseat and turned to face her, leaning against his car. His jaw was clenched, and she could see faint signs of his exhaustion from coming off of a long shift.

“Funny thing that anonymous part. It means they don’t want their name known,” he crossed his arms and stared at her.

“Is that what that means?” She purred. “I had no idea.”

“Listen, I-”

“Sick kids, Kyle. The committee is putting together a fundraiser, and it would help if someone with deeper pockets could provide some more funding.”

“I understand that, but-”

“Dying children, Kyle. Think about the children!” She blinked unapologetic in her methods of persuasion and inwardly smiled when she saw his resolve falter right before her eyes.

“Fine,” he sighed. He rubbed at the crease in his forehead, and she too wanted very much to smooth it out. “I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise anything.”

“See? I always get my way somehow,” she joked.

“Yeah, I bet.” He flashed her a small smile that turned into an embarrassed chuckle when his stomach growled.

She smiled fondly at him as he joked about the long shift and poor quality of cafeteria food.

She wouldn’t know; she avoided cafeteria food like the plague. Was she a food snob? Absolutely, and she didn’t bother hiding it.

But there was something about Kyle that made her soften. Maybe she wanted to extend him an ounce of the kindness he extended her.

It seemed natural for him, too. Genuine. He was a good guy – a decent man, and she marveled at how he didn’t need to try, he just was.

It’s a quality she somewhat envied – something she sought out too. It was part of what attracted her to her husband, or at least she thought it was, now? Now she wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

“Are you alright?” He leaned in and studied her face, his warm hand burning her arm, and she almost flushed at the gentle contact.

His eyes darted back and forth, scanning her eyes and face with that concerned frown of his etched on his countenance.

He was tired and hungry, but there he was worried about her.

“How about we grab something to eat?” She stepped back, walked around his car, and unlatched the passenger door.

She met his eyes over the top of the car and watched the perplexed expression disappear as quickly as it came.

“You can pick, but I’ll buy.” She slid into the leather seat and shut the door.

His car smelled like him. By the time she was clicking her seatbelt on, he was sliding into his seat too.

“Um,” his throat worked hard with each swallow, and she could tell she caught him off-guard.

“Don’t make this weird, Kyle.” She cleared her throat, and it was like all of her confidence was stripped away in the confinements of his car.

She clutched her purse, held it on her lap, set it down, then moved it back to her lap again. She wanted to adjust the seat that felt like it was leaned too far back for her taste, but there was no sense in embarrassing herself.

She could sense her rigid posture, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t convince her body to loosen up.

She felt his eyes burning on the side of her face and heard his soft snort as he started up the car. Loud hip-hop blasted through the speakers.

He turned down the volume and turned the dial to change the station.

“You don’t have to change it on my account,” she responded only slightly affronted.“I like Izzo.”

“Lizzo,” he corrected his eyes darting back and forth from the rearview and the road.

“It was a joke,” she supplied.

She couldn’t tell if he believed her, and suddenly she regretted jumping into his car instead of taking her own. It was as though he could read her mind.

“Hey,” he stole a glance her way. His eyes darted back and forth between the road and her face until she looked back at him.

Don’t mind me, it’s not you …“ his voice trailed off for a moment, and his eyes softened.

She couldn’t make sense of his expression, but then he shook his head as if shaking off some deep thoughts and continued.

“It’s not you. I’m just tired, and I didn’t anticipate this or you for that matter.”

She did her best to control her expression. They weren’t close, or even friends and they were so very different.

Maybe she had overstepped some boundary. She didn’t think, she just acted, and if she was being honest with herself, that’s something about him she found alluring.

He was easy to talk to and be around, even briefly. She didn’t think about who she was or wasn’t. She didn’t think about what impression she was giving off or if her carefully curated image was perfectly intact.

He saw through that, and it had been a long time since anyone saw through her perfectly put together exterior.

“I’m sorry, maybe we shouldn’t–”

“Hey,” he grabbed her hand and squeezed it. He cleared his throat and pulled his hand away just as quick.

“That’s not what I meant. Besides,” he flashed a smile as they pulled into a dirt lot in front of a BBQ shack. “ We’re here.”

She raised a perfectly arched brow at what she could only describe as a dump in front of her. Chipped paint and rust-covered the old building.

Half of the lights had blown out in the sign, and all she could make out was a few letters etched on a pink pig.

“Charming.”

“I thought so,” Kyle replied, biting back a smile. “Best BBQ in town.”

“Doubt it’s as good as mine, but whatever you say.” She was not impressed with the outer appearance, but she was still learning the exterior didn’t mean very much anymore.

“You make BBQ?” He was annoyingly shocked by this, and it irked her.

“You don’t have to act so surprised.” She was indignant, and she knew it, but she couldn’t help herself.

“I figured you went for cucumber crest sandwiches and salads or something,” he admitted only slightly ashamed.

His judgment surprised her and yet didn’t.

“That’s your impression of me, and yet you brought me here,” she gestured at the shack and stifled her disdain.

She was well aware that the worst looking places were usually hidden gems, but she never understood why people couldn’t put in more effort.

Never let anyone see you slip and all of that. It was just sensible.

“I’m hungry. I don’t eat cucumber sandwiches, and you said you were buying, so …” he laughed getting out of the car and startled her by opening the passenger door for her.

“Jackass,” she muttered as she climbed out and adjusted her clothes.

“You wound me,” Kyle grimaced gesturing in an “after you” manner as they walked down the gravel path to the restaurant.

“Not yet, but the night is still young,” she feigned a smile that seemed to amuse him more than anything else.

“And so am I,” he added pulling the door open for her.

“Cute,” she muttered.

“I think so,” he quipped back. His eyes sparkled with humor, and she chuckled.

The shack was bigger than it looked on the outside, and they stopped at the bar to order a drink before settling in at a table.

Kyle flagged down the bartender and gestured at her to order. She leaned against the counter and cringed at how sticky and grimy it was.

Some unfamiliar residue coated her hands, and she recoiled, wiping her hands down her things and trying not to gag.

“Lady?” The bartender was not amused, but Kyle certainly was.

His eyes grew wide as he bit his lip stifling laughter.

“Skinny Cosmo, please,” she demanded, only looking up when she sensed both men were staring at her.

The bartender look scandalized, and Kyle, the bastard, could barely contain himself.

His amusement was irksome, but his eyes were soft and kind, and she exhaled and let herself go.

“Corona with a lime,” she flashed a bright smile that caught both men off guard. “And a tequila shot.”

If she surprised Kyle with her order, she damn near caused him to spontaneously combust when she consumed her shot.

She grabbed his hand without warning, but he didn’t resist when she licked the skin between his thumb and index finger and salted it.

She sucked it lightning quick, downed her shot, and bit into the lime wedge with the barest hint of a frown.

His eyes were dark – pupils were blown as he stood there speechless while she grabbed her beer and sauntered over to a small table on shaky legs.

If he wanted to make her uneasy, even in jest, then she could do the same.

Moments later, he slid across from her with his own bottle in his hand.

He opened his mouth to say something, but an older woman with a weathered face from too much sun came to take their order.

“I’ll have the rib special. Extra sauce, please,” she slid the menu across the table, and both women turned to look at Kyle pointedly.

“Uh, same, please. Thank you.”

She took a long pull of her beer and made eye contact over the bottle. “What?”

She leaned back into the crackly booth and willed herself to relax. The tequila helped.

She hadn’t drunk tequila in some time. She usually opted for whatever specialty drink was served at whatever gathering she was attending or a glass of wine.

“Nothing,” Kyle responded. He studied her intently while he sipped at his drink. “You surprise me.”

“You keep saying that.” She rested her elbow on the table and ran her hand through her hair before resting her head on her palm.

“I’m sorry,–” he started.

“You keep saying that too,” she interrupted. She loved the way she threw him off and made him uncomfortable. It made her feel like the power was back in her hands. These days, all she could remember was being powerless around men.

“People are rarely how they seem. Even then, there’s more to them than what you see. Sometimes …” her voice trailed off as she swallowed back tears she didn’t know she conjured up.

“Sometimes you think you know them, and you find out you don’t know them at all,” her voice cracked, and she attempted a watery smile as she took another gulp of her beer.

“I’m …” Kyle’s voice was as sincere as his eyes, but he shook his head not wanting to extend another apology. “I know. I heard.”

“Small town and all,” she joked weakly.

“And that sucks.” He paused as their food was placed in front of them. “How has that been? Do you–”

“Miss him?” She offered. She tore off a bone from her slab of ribs and dove right in. “Mmmmm.”

Her moans bordered on obscene if Kyle nearly choking was any indication.

“I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him.” She grew quiet – pensive.

“And everything I thought was true was a lie. That’s what it feels like, like maybe he never loved me at all. Years of being together, and he probably never loved me. But I still miss him and what we had. Like a fucking idiot, I still miss that lie.”

She blinked rapidly, forgetting her surroundings and embarrassed at displaying open vulnerability.

She felt exposed and uncomfortable. He must have noticed because his hand shot out again and grabbed hers.

Even when she tried to pull it away, he wouldn’t let go. He squeezed her hand firmly and with reassurance.

Her eyes followed the gesture and then slowly rose to meet his.

He ducked his head down refusing to break eye contact with her.

“You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to be embarrassed about, and you’re not an idiot for daring to love,” his voice was soothing.

She pulled her hand out of his after one final squeeze and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. She ducked her head down and buried herself into her meal unable to take Kyle’s sympathy.

Somehow it felt infinitely worse than if it was pity.

“So,” she cleaned another bone with a moan. “How’d you find the second-best BBQ place in town?”

“Your moans are confirming it’s the first,” he teased, giving her the change of subject she desperately needed.

“Watch yourself, doc. You still haven’t tried mine,” she tossed another bone on the platter and sucked her fingers. “And I promise it’s the best you’ve ever tasted.”

To her amusement, his face heated up, and he cleared his throat.

“Um, my, uh,” he stuttered. “It used to be my father’s favorite place. We would come at least once every couple of weeks.”

He had a faraway smile as he recalled the fond memories, and seeing him so wistful made her smile too.

“We had some of our best conversations over a meal here,” he laughed softly recalling a memory. “Some over that pool table too,” he nodded at a table in the corner of the room.

It was old but durable and had some good years still left in it.

His eyes were sad for the first time all night, and it pierced her heart.

“You want to go a few rounds?” She canted her head toward the pool table. “Or are you afraid I’m going to kick your ass?”

The last part got him, and he again snorted in surprise.

“You play?”

“I dabble,” she shrugged. She tossed her napkin down and slid out of the booth looking down at him and waiting for him to acquiesce.

“OK,” he climbed out of the booth and stood toe-to-toe with her. “I’ll bite.”

“Promise?” She narrowed her eyes at him, ignoring the double entendre even though a blush crept up his neck around the collar. “I like a challenge.”

“Apparently, so do I,” he huffed. “But first,” he leaned in close to her, their noses inches apart, before he looked down and grabbed her napkin.

He brushed it across her lips and face wiping away smears of BBQ sauce with that confident smirk of his. “You got a little something.”

He took some joy in how mortified she was and left her at the table to gather her thoughts while he grabbed another drink for her and got the pool sticks ready.

She welcomed the new beer and used it to cool herself down.

He called his play as he leaned over the pool table. He had the dexterity of a surgeon, for sure. He had the precision too.

“What happened to ladies first?” She asked as she grabbed the stick.

“Lady?” He scoffed. “I know a hustler when I see one.”

She leaned over the table to line up her shot, the stick gliding smoothly between her manicured fingers. When she glanced up, she caught him eyeing her cleavage. She fought off a smirk of her own.“Who says I can’t be both?”

She took her shot, and even though she was rusty, she couldn’t have executed it better.

“Shit!” Kyle scratched the back of his neck and whistled impressed.

She sidled up to him brushing past, heat and electricity thrumming between them. “I’m really handy with a stick.”

He stepped into her space slowly and deliberate. His voice husky as he tucked strands of her blond hair behind her ear and whispered, “You flirting with me, Evans?”

His lips brushed against the shell of her ear, and Kyle chuckled when her breath caught in her throat.

She wet her lips, and his eyes tracked the motion before meeting hers.

“When I really flirt with you, Kyle,” she breathed, making the hairs of his neck stand on end. “You won’t need to ask.”

He swallowed hard, and she laughed loud and carefree in a way she hadn’t done in a long time.

She knew she flustered him when he missed his shot. He could hardly make eye contact as he took another timid sip of the same warm beer he got when they arrived.

“Not much of a drinker?” She asked as she walked around the table and took another shot with success.

“Not really,” he shrugged. “With my father and all … ” he trailed off.

She nodded in understanding, but the mention of Jim’s addiction must have thrown him off. He scratched the table.

“Dammit,” he swore under his breath. She patted his shoulder.

“You’re not bad, just easily distracted,” her voice took on a playful tone that made his lips turn up slightly. “You need to work on your form,” she gestured at him.

She adjusted his stance, her hands resting firmly on his hips before she even thought about it.

For a split second, she thought of what the other patrons would think. How they would react to her and him and how intimate they looked together?

She wondered what people would say when word spread that she was getting cozy with the sheriff’s son. She thought of the rumors that would spread. The whispers and the judgment.

Then she decided she was too tired to care. She slid her hands down his arms and adjusted his grip on the pool stick until they were holding it just right together.

She was pressed firmly against his back. Her face was nearly touching his.

“Inhale,” she ordered gently pulling their hands back, “and release on the exhale.”

The sounds of balls clinking together and sinking into pockets were those of triumph.

“Good boy,” she whispered in his ear as she smacked his ass.

“OK, now you’re definitely flirting with me, Evans.”

“Maybe,” she laughed, polishing off the rest of his beer.

She lost track of time playing pool, joking, and flirting with Kyle, and it was the lightest she felt in months.

She felt like she was walking on air while strolling down that gravel road with Kyle’s jacket draped over her shoulders and his arm entwined with hers.

Their conversation on the drive back was lighthearted and easy. The awkwardness long abandoned.

She was so wrapped up in their flirty banter that she failed to realize he bypassed the hospital and took her home.

Her buzz gradually wore off at the sight of her dark home, and the loneliness washed over her as if she had been doused with cold water.

“You brought me home,” she sighed pulling his jacket tighter around her as if it served as an embrace.

“I brought you home,” he echoed. “Sheriff’s son, remember?” He cut off the car. “I would rather be safe than sorry.”

“Careful, Valenti. I might think you cared about me.”

“Careful, Evans. I might think you wanted me to.”

Fortunately for her, he jumped out of the car and missed the effect his words had on her. She hoped it had dissipated by the time he opened the passenger door and enveloped her hand in his.

“Walking me to my door, too?” She shouldn’t be surprised his mother raised him right.

“You get the Valenti special,” he teased as they stopped outside of her door. “Thanks for dinner, and … ” he leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “I’ll get that name for you tomorrow.”

“Thank you for …” she laughed to herself as she realized she wanted to thank him for everything.

For being kind to her and being good company. For not judging her. For seeing her in a way she hadn’t felt seen in awhile.

For making her feel comfortable and safe, and for never making her feel self-conscious or different.

“Thank you for everything,” she breathed.

She slipped out of his jacket and handed it to him already missing its warmth and the way his scent clung to it.

Their fingers met with the exchange, and a spark between them nearly caused them to pull away. Except she didn’t want to pull away. No, she wanted to be closer.

She did what she had done all night; she stopped thinking and just felt.

She crashed her lips to his, pulling him closer. She ran her hand through his hair and gripped his shirt with the other kissing him hungrily.

There was still the faint taste of beer on his tongue and the mint he ate after dinner.

She feared he was only indulging her at first, but he kissed her with purpose. His hands slid up to cup her face, and his lips chased after hers between stolen breaths.

She pressed him against the doorframe, her lips sliding across those sharp cheekbones and along his jawline before finding his mouth again.

She slid her leg between his with purpose, and she ran her hand beneath the hem of his shirt dragging her fingertips along his ridiculously hard abs.

His hand enclosed hers, their fingers tangling as he spun her around so she was pressed against the door instead.

He caged her in, pressing their entwined hands above her head as he kissed her slow and sensuous.

She wrapped a leg around him, pulling him forward until they were damn near joined at the hip.

He slowed their kiss down, then ended with a soft peck and ran his nose along her neck.

“We have to,” he was out of breath as he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. “We have to stop.”

Rejection hung heavy in the air, but she tried to tamp it down.

“I’m sorry.” She kept her voice as neutral as possible considering the circumstances. “It’s weird, right? It’s … with me, it’s weird.”

“What?” His voice rose an octave as he tried to catch his breath. “No! Hell no. It’s decidedly not weird. It’s so far from weird.”

He pecked her lips again in reassurance.

“Uh,” his hips inadvertently jerked forward as he dug into her hips to steady her while extricating himself from her leg lock.

She felt him hard against her and bit her lip trying not to laugh. He stepped back and yanked his jacket off the floor before his eyes met hers.

They were dark and stormy as if a war was brewing behind them. His lips were swollen as he darted his tongue out to wet them or maybe savor the taste of her on them.

“I have an early shift,” he said almost regretfully. “And I don’t make it a habit of spending the evening with women who have been drinking.”

He ducked his head and gave her a shy smile.

“Right,” she said. “No operating heavy machinery.”

“Did you-” he let out a startled laugh that matched the deer in headlights look.

She laughed too, and it released the tension between them. He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Get some rest.“He pressed his lips to her forehead tender and sweet and exhaled. “Goodnight, Ann.”

She smiled. All these months later, and he finally took to using her first name.

He stepped off the porch backward, not taking his eyes off of her until he climbed into his car.

“Goodnight, Kyle,” she whispered while pressing her back to the door and watching him pull off. She sighed contently to herself. “Until we meet again.”

—– Fin —–

[fanficmoi]

The Fool By The Seaside Chp.3

Paul didn’t go back to the beach for a week. He tried to distract himself from all thought of the merman. MerMAN. Paul wasn’t queer, half fish or not. Yet, at night in his dreams he couldn’t escape the image of John being pleasured by Paul’s hand in his tail. It was a gorgeous sight, and Paul had woken up many times with the effects of it clear on his body. But it couldn’t be! Paul had always liked birds, had never so much as looked at a boy twice. Not even Elvis. Yet, here he was getting hard over a merman. Which he figured was even worse because John wasn’t even human. And yet, those cries of anguish that had followed Paul as he ran away? They had sounded pretty damn human.

Those cries haunted Paul as well, and he cursed himself as time went by. He had used John, made him trust Paul and then abandoned him. God, he was such an arse. He had been selfish, and he doubted John would ever want to see him again.

And Paul was right. When he finally gathered enough strength to go back to the beach, John wasn’t there. So Paul sang a song, but John didn’t come. He stayed there until nightfall and his merman never appeared. He left feeling distraught.

But he came back the next day, and sang a different song. But John didn’t show up. And he didn’t show up the next day either, or the next.

Shit. Paul had really screwed up.

“You let him do what!?” Stuvartk exclaimed, moving his hands away from his sculpture.

John groaned and buried his head in his arms. He was visiting his friend Stuvartk, who wasn’t a Marrow but a Marine Man. They were very similar to Marrow, but they didn’t have a tail. They still had fins and gills but they had two legs. John had always envied Stu’s legs. If he had them, he could go to the human world. Stu had several times tried to explain to him that it didn’t work like that, Marine Men legs were covered by a thin coat of an epidermis very similar to a jellyfish’s, and it would make it impossible to walk unless they ripped it away. Which would obviously be very painful. But John never listened.

Right now John was thrown upon a bed made of a polished rock that served as a bed for Stuvartk, his tail curled up and his head buried in his arms. He had come to Stu hoping to find sympathy and comfort, but of course his friend would yell at him instead.

And yell he did, “How could you be so stupid, John?” Stu swam closer, “He could have killed you!”

“No!” John’s head snapped up, “Paul isn’t like that!” Wasn’t he? He first had wanted to touch John’s tail, but then? Maybe he would have wanted to take a piece of it with him.

Stu scoffed, “How would you know, John? You barely know this ‘Paul!’ For Poseidon’s sake, he’s a human! Humans want only one thing from Marrows,”He leaned close, “Their beauty.”

John flinched back and curled up even more. He buried his head in his tail and put his arm around it.

Stu sighed, “John, you know I’m right.”

John didn’t speak.

Stu sat close to his friend and brushed his floating hair with his hand, “You have to forget about this man. Stay away from the surface, you know the rules.”

John made a keening noise, “But he sang to me.” Singing meant affection, everyone knew that.

Stu put his slimy arm on his friend’s shoulder, “Singing is not special for humans, John. They do it all the time.”

John was shaking as he launched himself at his friend and buried his head on his shoulder, “I miss him.” He wailed.

Stu hugged his young friend, “Don’t worry, John. You will forget about him soon.”

Paul had decided that singing the same old songs to make John come to him wasn’t going to work, he made up his mind to write a special song. A song just for John.

It took him awhile, but every free second he had he spent writing. He wrote on the beach, thinking about their encounters and about what John meant to him. He wanted the merman to know that Paul cared not only for the creature’s beauty, but also for his personality. He wanted to get to know John. Even if that made him queer.

Finally, he had it. A song fit for demonstrating his affection. Maybe it was too much affection, but it was honest. And John deserved honesty.

Wanna give you my heart

Wanna tell you my story

Go and take it to another level, you and me

Wanna give you my word

Let me give you my promise

I will try to make it happen

You can guarantee

Hand in hand

Walking through life and making our plans

Hand in hand

John perked up, this was a new song. It was beautiful. He was near the beach, picking up shells for his Auntin’s collection, but he was also there because he wanted to be close to Paul. He had heard him everyday, and had longed to go to him everyday, but he had controlled himself. Yet this song was something different, it was...honest, Paul sang it not like his other ‘love songs’ but like he actually meant it. John was sure that it was for him.

Without meaning to, he swam closer to the surface to hear better.

Paul kept on singing, pouring his feelings out.

Let me into your light

Wanna show you my passion

We can make each other happy if we get it right

Hand in hand

Walking through life and making our plans

Hand in hand

Taking our time and making a stand

We can make this dream come true

Only if we wanted to

We can make this dream come true

Only word we understood

Everything in life is planned

Can we make this dream come true?

John could see Paul through the water now. He closed his eyes at the beauty of the song. A little fish bumped into him, it looked at him with knowing eyes.

“I can’t.” John told him, his heart beating fast in his chest.

The fish swam around John in circles, telling him that the Merrow should make up his mind already.

John groaned. The fish softly bumped him again. Have courage, it told him, be brave.

Paul had closed his eyes, he didn’t want to see the empty sea. He had been so sure that his song would work! But Paul didn’t stop, he couldn’t give up.

Wanna give you my heart

Wanna tell you my story

Go and take it to another level, you and me

Hand in hand

Walking through life and making our plans

Hand in hand

Hand in hand

Finally, the song ended. Paul wondered if he should sing it again as he opened his eyes but lost his breath as he saw a pair of familiar dark eyes peering at him over the water.

He stood up frantically, “John!” He called, but slowed down as he saw the merman move back. “John.” He said, “You came. God, you came.”

John did nothing.

Paul squared his shoulder, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for running away. I know letting me touch you was a big deal and it took a lot of trust, and I was an arsehole about it.” He kneeled down to better look at John’s eyes, “I was just afraid, not of you, but of myself and how I felt.” He looked down, “I didn’t want to admit that I liked touching your tail not because it was a foreign thing, but because I was touching you.” He saw John emerge a bit more from the water so Paul kept going, “And I meant what I said, you’re beautiful, John. But that’s not why I’ve been here for days singing to you. I sing to you because I want to get to know you, beyond the outer beauty and into the inner.”

John blinked. That was a lot of words. He understood most of them , but some were too foreign. Still, he had to smile at what he did understood. Paul was sorry! Paul didn’t want him for his tail, he wanted to know John. He could hear a voice that resembled Stu’s saying that John shouldn’t trust the human, that he was lying. But John trusted Paul’s words to be true.

Paul continued, “Give me another chance, John. I won’t run away again.”

John got very close to the sand, “Promise?” He whispered in a hopeful tone.

Paul smiled and offered a hand, “Promise.”

The Merrow grinned and took Paul’s hand, using it to haul himself to the beach surface, half his tail still in the water. He put his arms around the human in joy, grunting when Paul fell due to the large weight.

Paul laughed even as his back hit the sand. He hugged John back, “Thank you.” He said.

John raised himself on his elbows so he was looking at Paul’s chest, he dragged himself further up so that he now looked at his face. He examined it for a few moments. He was rejoicing, but he also felt drops of insecurity clouding his happiness. He had to give Paul an incentive to not run away again, but what? He had an idea and he moved away to grasp at his belt. Paul frowned at him.

John grasped one of the blue stones in his belt and yanked it off the chain. Paul gasped beside him and gaped as John offered it to him with a wet, shy hand.

“No, I can’t possibly-” Paul protested.

“Please.” The merman interrupted him, “I have many stones.” The blues had belonged to his mother, to a lovely hair net that she had worn. But John had used it as a belt, and it wouldn’t look incomplete without of of its components.

He moved his hand closer, “For song.”

Paul took it, it was smooth and heavy. He put it in the pocket of his jacket. “Thanks, John.”

The merman smiled, and Paul didn’t flinch away from the sharp teeth, he just smiled back.

Little did they know, there was somebody watching them from the distance. Observing with disbelieving eyes, was Paul’s brother, Michael.