#i like to think she sneaks down to the lower decks a Lot those first few weeks aboard and just. tries to regain some semblance of the

[vancalox]

close enough welcome back fallout 2 dialogue

[rostovs-lover]

dalí on tuesday

charlie dalton x reader | cursing, smoking, brief mentions of sexual things, charlie (probably) has daddy issues, cameron | she/her pronouns | fluff | wc.2562

i am in love with charlie, this is now a charlie dalton centric blog, also ignore how terrible the title is please

anon : Hi!! I love your blog! can I request a charlie Dalton x reader fluff where reader is an artist and he visits them while they're painting? (maybe they end up wiping paint on his face?) I don't know, something really sweet at cute <33333

Charlie Dalton had been resigned to relish in small pleasures to keep himself sane at school, never did he think the library would be one of those. More specifically, the painter tucked into the basement of the library. 

                            ───☮︎───

     Charlie Dalton was a connoisseur of many things. Pretty girls, expensive wine, shitty poetry, and hand rolled cigarettes - to name a few. His imprisonment at Wellington made only one of those things readily available. So he settled - boxes of cheap smokes bought through upperclassmen, bottles of grocery store wine someone would sneak in from a party, and the two girls that occasionally came with Knox. The shitty poetry was always on deck, he had that at least. It was a tragedy to be resigned to such a bland life, there was absolutely no carpe diem-ing happening in a school that held adolescent boys to uniforms.

      It was miserable, truly, but Charlie scrapped by on the thought that soon enough there would be no more stuffy Catholic school and he could finally have a taste of freedom. In the meantime, he would have what little fun he could. The meets in the cave were always the highlight of the week. A place where he could talk and people would listen, and not because they had to but because they enjoyed it. They enjoyed his words and thoughts and presence. No one else had ever really seemed to enjoy Charlie’s presence. They could tolerate it, handle it, but they always had more pressing matters. A business meeting to attend, a bill to pay, a dinner to go to. Always something just a little bit more important and never quite enough time for Charlie. But the other Dead Poets, they valued him. He wasn’t just a kid, a college tuition to pay and a life to layout. He was a person, with interests and hobbies.

      It had been there, in the safe haven of the cave, that the idea for the library first came up. Meeks had already talked Pitts into coming, Neil didn’t take much convincing at all, Todd was also easy to lure, Cameron groaned about leaving school grounds but refused to be left out, and Knox agreed to go but only if Nuwanda came too. Charlie had already started to cover what there was to do at a library, read?

      Meeks dove into the technical manuals and Pitts followed tentatively, cradling their science project in his arms. Todd had followed Neil to the S authors, Cameron was trying to chat up the woman at the register, and God only knew what Knox was doing. He had been stranded with few options. He could find the geniuses and be talked over for the next hour or third wheel Neil but that guaranteed intruding on something he probably shouldn’t. The polite thing to do would be to rescue Cameron from making a complete fool of himself, throwing bad pick up lines at a clearly uninterested college student, but it was amusing to watch.

      Charlie settled on trying to find Knox, at least then he could have some company. Said company was absolutely nowhere to be found. The rows of shelves wound in a confusing maze and Charlie was lost before he could even begin to look. Weaving around he did come face-to-face with a rather large picture of Charles Dickens that made him recoil. It was perched just at eye level above a short staircase and it seemed to judge his every movement. Charlie followed the carpeted stairs down to escape Mister Dickens’ strange little beard and beady black eyes.

      The further down the steps Charlie descended the brighter it appeared. The lower level was the children’s section. Considerably more fun than science books or Shakespeare. The big oak counter was abandoned but the lights were still on. He was alone, still.

      Charlie sighed, sitting down in one of the bright red wooden chairs. He was much too big for it but it held well under his weight. A sad stuffed bear stared dully into him from the green glossy table.

      “Well hello,” He mumbled, picking it up under the arms, “And you must be?” He cleared his throat to take on a gruff baritone, “Mister... Bearington,” Charlie sighed, that was bad. He dropped the bear into his lap, “This is so stupid,”

      “Bearington?”

      Charlie shot around in the chair, tipping himself off center and stumbling to his feet, bear still clutched in his arms, “Where the hell did you come from?”

      “A few blocks over, walked here actually.” You turned back to your work. A painting. Not just a painting, Charlie realized, a mural. It stretched the length of the wall, roughly sketched in pencil and waiting to be finished.

      He blinked, “That’s good. The wall I mean,”

      “Thank you,” Your face flustered and Charlie took notice, “It’s not much of anything yet, just an outline. It’ll look better painted.”

      He took a few steps closer, sidling up to you, “What’s it supposed to be?”

      “A forest,” You pointed to a rotund blob perched on a long line, “That’s an owl, and there’s going to be a fox somewhere down in the grass,”

      Charlie grinned, “That’s an owl?”

      “That-” you tapped the blob, “Is a shape, objectively. Subjectively, it’s an owl.”

      His brow creased, “Subjectively it’s an owl? That's like saying Mister Bearington is a rabbit, subjectively,”

      You stared at him, baffled. It was almost irritating that he could so casually come down to your domain and invade your creative bubble. And it was even worse that he talked to himself as a stuffed bear but now he was challenging your judgment on what was and was not subjectively an owl. But he had a wonderful smile and it lessened the intrusion. Plus, you had never seen a teenage boy develop an attachment to a stuffed bear as quickly as he had, “What’s your name?”

      “Nuwanda,” He grinned, setting his chin atop his bear’s plush head.

      “Nuwanda?” You blinked at him, “That’s… neat. I’ve never heard that before.”

      “What can I say? The only Nuwanda this side of Vermont. What’s your name?”

      As you opened your mouth to answer several sets of footsteps thundered down the stairs. Knox spun around the corner first, closely followed by Pitts and Meeks.

      “Charlie!” Knox called, “We gotta go before Cameron proposes to the clerk.”

      You looked at the boy in front of you, “Is Charlie short for Nuwanda, or just a nickname?”

      He shrugged, “I’m Nuwanda, subjectively. It was truly a pleasure meeting you. Can’t wait to see your thing DaVinci!” He set the stuffed bear back on the table as he made his way out of the room. With Charlie’s energy gone it became much quieter and you were plunged back into the impressionistic outline of your artwork.

      The next time a library trip was suggested Charlie didn’t completely dread it. Yes, it was still numbingly boring because it was a library and he didn’t have clerks to fall in love with, people to write love letters to, anyone to kiss in the aisles, or a spaceship to build, but he did have his own personal Van Gough to torment.

      The lower level was the first place he went, not even hanging his coat on the rack inside the big double doors. He made his way past Cameron’s preoccupied receptionist and under Dickens’ hard glower. Halfway down the steps, the smell hit Charlie. Wet paint.

      You had just picked out a brush when he pulled one of the wooden chairs next to your station. He sat in it backwards, holding Mister Bearington out in front of him, “Never got your name Monet,”

      “Well, it's not that. Or Da Vinci.” You stroked the brush up the grassy outline.

      “Do you want me to guess?”

      You had yet to look at him, “Nope,”

      “Are you gonna tell me?”

      “Should I?”

      “Obviously, I told you my name.”

      You set the brush down and turned to face him, “(Name).”

      “Pretty,”

      Charlie Dalton liked many things and the musty old library uptown had never been one of them. It had ancient red carpets and gaudy gold ceilings and it was trying too hard to look regal. So it was a sheer shock when he began to leap at the suggestion of going and even more so when he chose to go by himself one afternoon. Naturally, the other poets followed him, they had to.

      Charlie didn’t dally upstairs, waving hi to the clerk and rushing down to the children’s section. A sign was posted outside the entrance warning of wet paint but he stepped around it.

      “You’re making progress Picasso!” He set his hands on his hips and took in the wall.

      You turned back to look at him, “Did you not see the caution: wet paint, do not enter sign?”

      “Oh no I saw it,” He pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head, “It's bright orange, hard to miss, really,”

      “So you just chose to ignore it?”

      He nodded, making his way over to sit by you on the ground, “I choose to ignore lots of things, it really makes life easier,”

      You shook your head, “Are you just going to sit here and bother me?”

      “Yes, that's actually the whole reason I came today, believe it or not.”

      You blubbered in vague disbelief, “Please tell me you’re not serious,”

      “Dead serious,” Charlie grinned, leaning closer, “I had to see how your weird owl was going. And also make sure you hadn’t gone mad and cut your own ear off yet,”

      “You’ve already used the Van Gogh joke, Charles,”

      “Maybe I want your ear,”

      You paused, “You… what?”

      Charlie’s confidence cracked, “That was bad. Shit, that wasn’t supposed to sound that way. It was like, a bad pickup line? Because Van Gogh cut his ear off to send to his girlfriend,” He sighed, shaking his head, “Sorry,”

      “I mean if I had to pick someone to give my ear too I guess you would be my first choice?”

      Charlie looked at you, eyebrows pinched together, “Why?”

      You shrugged, “No one else has asked, first come first serve.” You dipped your brush back into the blue paint and went to work on a patch of flowers.

      “Huh, well I do appreciate it,” Charlie scooted closer, leaning over your shoulder. He was close, very close. When you took a breath you could smell his cologne and whatever it was he used in his hair and you could feel the edge of his sunglasses brush your ear. He brought an arm around to dip his finger into the soft sky colour on your palette. And then he wiped it on your nose.

      You gasped sharply at the foreign feeling, snapping your head to the side to glare at him, “Why?!”

      Charlie snickered, leaning back, “The opportunity presented itself, how could I just let that pass?”

      You reached back, squirting a touch of purple paint over the palm of your hand, “That was truly a horrible idea,”

      Charlie shot up just as you did, stumbling backwards, “I’m sorry-” He stuck his hands up in surrender, “I regret my actions and if I could take them back I would,”

      “Hmm, but you can’t” You took a step closer, “Surrender now and it doesn’t have to get any messier than this,”

      He pointed towards your paint coated hand, “Do not,”

      You grinned, “I might,”

      “I’m begging,”

      “Fine-” You offered him your other hand, “Truce?”

      Charlie mulled it over for a moment, “Fine, truce,” He grabbed your clean hand and you used it to pull him towards you.

          “Why on earth would you trust me?” You tugged him even closer as he shrieked and smeared your hand down his cheek, “There, now we’re even,”

      Getting distracted by your triumph gave Charlie the upper hand. He pulled you to him the same you had done to him and pressed his cheek flush to yours. The paint was cold against your skin and you jolted back, away from him.

      “Vile,” You hissed, “You are vile and evil. That's so cold. You will pay, I hope you know that.”

      Charlie snorted, “Oh please, what’re you gonna do?”

      “You underestimate me, you ass, I’ll figure something out,”

      “Will you?” Charlie grinned, “I will be waiting in anticipation,”

      “You better be,”

      Meeks elbowed back into Cameron’s ribs, “You’re going to knock me over,”

      Cameron craned his neck further to peek around the corner into the children’s section, “I just want to see, let me look,”

      “Nothing is happening-” Meeks snipped, “They’re just talking now and I might be able to hear if you could can it!”

      Cameron rolled his eyes, “Of course, whatever you say,”

      “Will you shut up?” Knox batted at Cameron’s shoulder, “They’ll see us, we’re not super well hidden,”

      “If you don’t stop talking they’ll realize we’re here,” Pitts mumbled, rolling his eyes. Cameron started to rebuttal, turning to look at Gerard but the motion knocked Meeks out of place and he gasped, stumbling forwards. This did indeed draw Charlie’s attention.

      “Meeks, what the hell?” Charlie snapped. He was in a state, sunglasses askew in his hair, paint smeared from his cheekbone down to the corner of his mouth, and his shirt was wrinkled away from his collarbone.

      Meeks stared, “Hi Charlie. Are there any textbooks down here, uh… the science ones?”

      Knox groaned, stepping out from behind the wall as well, “We wanted to see why you came here on a Tuesday afternoon by yourself,”

      Charlie blubbered, “Did you all come? Is Keating there too?”

      “He could be,” Meeks shrugged.

      Charlie rolled his eyes, “Will you leave, I’ll be upstairs in a second,” The other poets nodded, scampering up the steps to the first level.

      “Assholes, should have known they’d come,” Charlie sighed, adjusting the sunglasses atop his head, “I need to go before they decide to intrude again. I’ll see you soon though, anxiously anticipating payback,”

      He was almost out the door when you bucked up the courage to call out to him, “Charlie, wait.” You let him turn back to you before continuing, “Could I have your phone number?”

      He clicked his teeth, “Don’t have one, private school. But I’ll find the library number in the books and try to shoot you a call sometime,” He winked and started back up to his friends.

      Knox was waiting at the landing with a handful of tissues, which he shoved into Charlie’s hands, “So you’re gonna read your stupid poem about tits at a Dead Poets meet and then not tell us you’ve got a girlfriend?”

      Charlie grabbed the tissues, “Not my girlfriend, I meet her like two weeks ago,”

      “Didn’t stop Knox,” Neil elbowed him.

      Charlie wiped at his face, “Well I’m not Knox. I like her painting, she's good.”

      “It looks like she was painting you,” Cameron slapped at Charlie’s chest and he threw the tissues at him in retaliation.

      “Shut up, at least my library worker actually talks to me,”

      Cameron fumbled with the dirty material, batting it away from his chest, “You dick!”

      Charlie grinned, pulling his glasses down and starting towards the door. Something about it was thrilling, having this to himself. A little secret that he and you shared. His personal Salvador Dalí, something to look forwards to besides bad tobacco and Keating’s eccentric lectures. It was bright and exciting and he felt seen. He felt important. The blue paint he had stolen from your tray was still on the tip of his pointer finger and he wondered how long it would be until he could see you again.

 ( @interwebseriesfan24 )

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Rain Check

Spencer Reid x (gender neutral) Reader

Word Count: 2860

Warnings: Lots of sexual tension and pining and ~heated glances~ or whatever but no actual sexy times. Author plays fast and loose with the canonical details of Spencer’s teaching sabbatical, as well as the logistics of grad school. There’s a teacher-student thing going on, but no weird age gap or whatever. Excessive objectification of Spencer’s hands, because really, what else do you expect from me? 

A/N: For the “mutual pining” square on my @cmbingo​ card! 

You trail off. Spencer’s staring like he’s waiting for you to say something else, even though you’ve been rambling for a while now. 

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. 

“For what?” 

“You probably didn’t need to know all of that.”

He blinks, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. 

Something about him makes you want to open up; it’s been almost an hour of nonstop conversation, and you haven’t told him what you’re studying or even where you’re studying, but you feel like you’ve known him for years. You’ve talked about your favorite books and assorted high school traumas. He keeps insisting he’s not good at small talk anyway. 

“I really like listening to you talk,” he says, soft and sweet. “I just… I like watching you talk, too. I noticed your eyelashes and — and I got distracted.” 

Your cheeks feel hot, suddenly. You know the feeling. 

“Oh,” you manage.

There’s something about his hands; they’re just very fucking distracting, and every time he tucks his hair behind his ears, you lose your train of thought. It doesn’t help that he keeps absently-mindedly twirling a pen as he talks, long dexterous fingers moving with precise little movements, and — yeah. Distracting is putting it mildly. There’s this constant low flicker of want in your gut. 

“It’s been a long time since I enjoyed myself this much in a bar,” he admits, with a self-conscious little half-smile. 

“Me too.” 

Probably helps you’re not actually inside the bar. You’re tucked in the corner of the deck, leaning on the railing, and even though it’s crowded, you’ve barely noticed your surroundings. Every time you look at him, the rest of the world feels distant, like one of those perfect movie moments where the crowd parts and the hero and heroine walk toward each other in slow motion, meeting in a spotlight as everything else fades away. 

It’s just… those moments don’t happen, not in real life and certainly not to you. It’s never as simple as that: see — want — have. 

You can’t help but hope that this time might be different. 

Spencer’s smiling, and the way he looks at you with those big soft eyes makes you feel like you’re standing in a spotlight. It’s not a bad thing, necessarily. It’s just unusual, this jittery, excited, not-exactly-stage-fright thing happening in your chest. 

You have to remind yourself to breathe. 

The pause stretches a bit too long, and in an effort to fill the silence you blurt out, “What are you thinking about?” 

He hesitates, and his tongue slides along his lower lip, drawing your attention to his plush pink mouth as he says, “I was thinking—”

“Spence! There you are!” someone says loudly, and you’d be embarrassed by the way you jump, startled, if Spencer didn’t do the exact same thing. 

“Hey. Emily. Um… what’s up?” His voice cracks. He looks like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar; it’s flattering and oddly endearing. 

“We have a case.” The woman seems to be holding back a smile as she glances apologetically at you. “Meet you up front.” 

Spencer is visibly disappointed as he turns back to you. He gives you a helpless sort of shrug, and for a second, neither of you say anything. 

Your throat feels tight as your eyes lock on Spencer’s parted lips again. It’s been such a long time since you felt this drawn to a person; his closeness feels hypnotic. 

“I’d like to see you again,” he says shyly. “I — can you—” 

“Phone number?” you supply. His hands flutter and his eyebrows rise, like he forgot, for a second, that cell phones exist. Then he pats his pockets, pulls his out, and passes it to you. Once your number is saved, you give it back with a small smile. 

“I’ll probably be out of town for a few days, and then — maybe next weekend,” he says. 

“I’d really like that,” you admit, trying to make yourself take a step back. “This was — yeah. I’m glad I met you.” 

“Spencer!” someone says, from the door, and he waves them off without turning to look. 

“Earlier, when you asked—” He pauses, frowning, shifting his weight like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. “I was thinking about how much I’d like to kiss you.” 

His voice is soft and husky, and it cracks on the last word like maybe his throat is tight too. You feel hot all over. 

You never even shook hands; there’s been no physical contact whatsoever between the two of you, and now your head is spinning with the urge to reach out, to touch, to get closer... but it feels like you missed your opportunity for that — it doesn’t feel right, not when you know it’d be over much too quickly. You can tell Spencer feels it too. 

Once two magnets snap together, it’s a lot harder to separate them. 

“Rain check on that,” you say breathlessly, and he nods, raising one hand in an awkward wave as he steps back. 

-

This is Spencer, by the way. I’m really glad I met you.

The text comes in just an hour or so later, when you’re sitting in the cab on your way home, and you smile so wide it feels like your cheeks might split with it. 

-

The giddiness lasts until Tuesday morning, when you walk into the first session of your six-week-intensive graduate seminar and see Spencer at the white board, writing down page numbers for your reading assignment. 

Your eyes lock, and there’s another of those moments where you can’t see anything other than him. It’s not so pleasant this time, though. 

Spencer drops his pen, and you promptly forget how to walk, stumbling and spilling coffee down your front. You curse so loudly that the rest of the class turns to stare at you. 

To add insult to injury, the only open seat is directly across from Spencer’s. 

Fantastic. 

You spend the next hour and a half trying very hard to avoid eye contact, and for the most part, you’re successful. He doesn’t seem to want to look at you either. 

You do sneak one glance, though, and he’s just as pretty in the harsh fluorescent light of the classroom as he was in the golden glow of the bar lights. It seems really fucking unfair. 

If it were any other class, you would consider dropping it, but you were lucky to get a spot; this is big for your resume. It’s a special, one-time-only class, and your advisor had described the guest professor as “a genius, and one of the leading names in his field.” 

...fuck. 

Spencer dismisses the class. You start packing hurriedly, convinced he’s going to ask you to stay back, but you get out the door without incident. You’re already halfway down the hall when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. 

Can we talk? 

It’d be so easy to lie, say you have somewhere to be, put the rejection off for another day, but instead you take a deep breath and turn around. 

Spencer is sitting right where he was, except now he’s cross-legged in the chair, twirling a pen and frowning at it like it contains the mysteries of the entire universe. He gives you a twitchy attempt at a smile, eyes wide with worry. 

You move closer, sitting down next to him, trying to ignore those fucking fingers as he plays with the pen. This would be a whole lot easier if he would stop doing that, because it’s just like the bar — the same hot, fluttering sensation low in your belly, no matter how much you try to ignore it now. 

“I thought you worked for the FBI,” you mumble and he lets out a laugh that sounds more like a sigh. 

“I do,” he says ruefully. “I just — also teach, sometimes?” 

“Yeah. I got that.” 

His tongue does that slow swipe across his lower lip. You bite your own lip, trying not to stare, and Spencer drops the pen with a clatter. 

“Sorry,” he says, shoving both hands through his hair. “I’m so sorry if I — if this is — is this going to make you uncomfortable?” 

You frown, looking at him blankly for a second, because that was so not the reaction you expected. “Uncomfortable?” 

“Knowing that I — that I’m attracted to you? I’m aware of the power imbalance inherent in the situation and I promise I would never—” 

“Present tense?” you blurt out, and Spencer stops, blinking at you. 

“Well… yes. I thought that was obvious. I meant it, you know; I don’t just meet people like that,” he says, agitated. “It’s usually difficult for me to talk to strangers, and you’re — you’re just — yes. I’m attracted to you.” 

“I figured you would think I was immature, and — I mean, it’s such a fucking cliche,” you laugh, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. “I usually try to avoid modeling my life on Van Halen songs.” He gives you a blank look and you add hastily, “Never mind. Point is, a student with a crush, throwing themselves at a professor? Seems like a recipe for embarrassment.” 

“Oh,” he says, as a smile spreads across his face. “So… maybe after the class is over, we could—” 

“Yeah?”  

Spencer is blushing. Jesus pogo-jumping Christ, you want to kiss him. 

“It’s just six weeks. We’ll keep it strictly professional — appropriate — for six weeks.” The words are quiet, all husky and promising, and you can’t tell whether it’s intentional or not, but something about that tone sounds very fucking inappropriate. “And then… we’ll take that rain check.” 

You nod and clear your throat. “You’re on.” 

SIx weeks, two classes a week, ninety minutes per class. Easy enough. 

-

It’s not easy. Not in the fucking slightest. 

Part of you wishes he could be a bad teacher, or something. If he was boring — if he had an obnoxious laugh — something. Instead, every goddamn minute spent in his classroom seems like another reason to fall for this guy. 

And yeah, sure, he’s pretty. You catch yourself staring, sometimes: his long lashes, the hint of gold in his eyes, the sharp angles of his jawline, the messy hair… and you’re not the only one. It seems like the entire class is crushing on him by the end of the second meeting, boys and girls alike, and maybe you would make fun of the Indiana Jones-style lash-fluttering that’s aimed his way if you weren’t guilty of doing the same thing yourself. 

Once word gets around that there’s a cute new professor in the criminology department, rumors start to fly left and right. You’ve heard other students talking about him, speculating about the apparently “way more badass than you’d think” Doctor Reid. You hear stories about how he got shot once — was kidnapped and tortured — overdosed on heroin — saved a train full of people by talking down a lunatic with a gun — hooked up with a movie star — went to jail for murder — you name it, every story more far-fetched than the last. 

Well, he did mention getting shot one time, but you’re pretty sure the rest are too absurd to be true. 

Either way, it’s not the looks or the legends that have you hopelessly head-over-heels. 

It’s the way he lights up when he gets started on a subject that interests him. It’s the joy in his expression when a student asks a good question, or when they draw the right conclusion; his smile is bright and brilliant every time. 

The first time one of those smiles is aimed in your direction, along with a half-shouted, “Correct!” and an excited wave of his pen, you’re just about blinded. It quickly becomes one of the driving goals of your day-to-day life: make Spencer smile. 

He’s beautiful, in those moments when he’s grinning and enthusiastic, but the quiet moments are even worse. 

Sometimes he stares as you work your way through a train of thought, eyes glinting as he fixes them on you with a breathtaking intensity and this fierce pride. Sometimes, his voice is firm and sharp, and sometimes when he says things like, “Yes, exactly like that,” it sounds so much dirtier than it should. 

Sometimes — sometimes — once or twice or a dozen times — you fantasize about that voice. You’re only human. 

You never realized there was such a thing as a “praise kink,” but… yeah. That about sums it up. 

At first you worry that he’ll lose interest: that you’ll say something stupid or he’ll find someone else, because in your experience with men, they don’t wait around for six hours, let alone six weeks, once they’ve realized they can’t immediately have what they want. Instead, it only gets worse as the weeks pass. 

It’s nothing obvious, nothing that could be labeled as inappropriate — you still haven’t touched Spencer, not so much as an accidental brush of his hand against yours when he passes back a graded essay. It’s just that his gaze lingers, whenever he looks in your direction, just a moment longer than it would on anyone else. Every time your eyes meet, you have a hard time remembering that the rest of the world exists. It might as well just be the two of you. There’s this heat between you, this crackling electricity, like touching a live wire every single time, like you can’t pull yourself away to break the current. 

It’s the longest six weeks of your life. 

-

“That’s our time,” Spencer says, glancing at his watch. “I’ll get your essays marked and returned to you before break, and on Sunday evening, I’ll submit your final grades, at which point—” His eyes flick to you, and you bite your lip. “— my responsibilities as your professor are complete. It’s been a pleasure.” 

-

“Hi,” Spencer says, without preamble, when you pick up the phone on Saturday evening. “This is — um. This is Spencer?” 

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning so hard you can barely say, “Yeah, I know.” 

“Right. Um… where are you?”

“Just dropped off a few library books.” 

“I got grades done a little early,” he says hesitantly. “Do you want to… meet me at my office, maybe? We could go out for dinner?” 

You’ve never been there before, but you know where it is. Open office hours with Spencer always seemed like a disaster waiting to happen, because your self-control only goes so far.

“Sounds good,” you say, voice strained, heart racing. “Be there soon.” 

You walk fast. 

The building is mostly deserted, at this hour, and as you walk quickly down the hall, the catch and release of breath in your lungs seems too loud for your quiet surroundings. 

You might be panicking a little bit. There’s still a part of you that’s just waiting for him to change his mind, to realize how dorky and awkward you are, to find someone more polished or accomplished or… something — fuck, this seems to good to be true. 

Spencer has one of the old, cramped temporary offices used by visiting professors, and even though he’s only been here for a month and a half, he’s amassed quite a collection of books in the small space. When you step through the open door, he’s got his sleeves rolled up as he places a couple books gently in a box. He runs his hands through his hair with a sigh, making it even more hopelessly touseled. 

“Hey,” you say, and he turns around, wide-eyed and nervous for a moment before a smile — one of the brilliant too-bright ones you’ve become so fond of — transforms his face. 

“Hi! Um, I’ll come back tomorrow to finish cleaning, I was just — we could go out, I don’t have to — dinner? Are you hungry?” He picks up a pen from the cluttered desk, twirling it like he just really needs something to do with his hands; he seems just as anxious as you feel. It’s comforting, for some reason. At least you’re both awkward dorks. 

“Not hungry,” you say shyly. You close the door, slow and deliberate. 

Spencer’s eyes widen and then go dark, all heavy-lidded and heated. 

He drops the pen, closes the distance between you in two long strides, and cups your face in his hands before kissing you, deep and urgent, dizzyingly perfect. It’s desperate, after all this time, all that pent-up longing and suppressed electricity surging through you all at once, making you gasp at the sharp incredible sting of his teeth nipping your lower lip. 

It’s one hundred percent worth the wait. 

You’re both breathless when he breaks the kiss, but you sway closer anyway, trying to follow his mouth, and blink like you’re coming out of a trance. His lips are red and swollen. 

“Rain check on dinner?” he asks. His voice is suggestive and smoky — there’s nothing appropriate about it. 

When you nod, he just reaches behind you and locks the door. 

.

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Smutty bit is now here!

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More CM fic here! 

[miraculouswolf99]

Grand Festival Showdown

The Miraculous gang as Pokemon trainers. All of them are the same, but their dreams have all been modified to include pokemon. Kagami, Kim, Alix, and Ivan are all battlers. Marinette, Adrien, Luka, Nino, Chloe, Nathaniel, and Lila all do contests. Juleka, Rose, and Mylene all do showcases. This all takes place in the Sinnoh Region.

Includes my favorite Lila Salt as well as Alya Salt.

My original characters are included in this story as well. Lyon being a champion grand coordinator, Vallia being a pokemon nurse in training, Apollo is a contest contestant, Mason being a gym leader, and Lena is a friend to the twins.

This is a long one, about 6000 words, so buckle up people.

*****

If there was one thing that Adrien loved, it was competing in pokemon contests. Since his father usually forced him to model for his fashion company, he appreciated the beauty that he saw in the pokemon that his father made matching outfits of for the photoshoots. And from watching the Pokemon League on television, he definitely also knew that they had power. So contests were the perfect blend of how he saw pokemon as the beautiful and powerful creatures that they were.

Not that his father even knew that he participated in them. Gabriel Agreste wanted his son to be a proper heir to Gabriel Pokemon Fashion. And that did not include anything involving contests, battles, or even showcases. He forced him to do all kinds of photoshoots, had him model with humans and pokemon alike, not to mention the fact that he would not have gotten his starter pokemon had he not sneaked out of the house. But he did it anyway, and his adorable Turtwig had managed to evolve into a Torterra.

But if there was one mistake that Gabriel made, it was letting him have lots of privacy. There may be cameras outside his bedroom door, but none inside of his room. That certainly helped when he had to sneak out to meet his friends, capture more pokemon, train his pokemon, or compete in a contest that was nearby. Plus, he also was able to sneak away to contests that were in the same town as a photoshoot that he was doing. He just had to lie and say that he was staying in his hotel room for a few hours. His life may have been mostly controlled, but that did not mean he was not sneaky when he was getting what he wanted.

Since contests were televised, he did have to keep his father from finding out. So he donned a disguise. He became Cat Noir, a mysterious pokemon contest prodigy that no one knew the real name of.

Only three people knew about his second life as Cat Noir. His best friend Kagami, who shared the same type of sheltered life as he did but she preferred battles to contests, and his other two friends Lyon and Marinette. Lyon is one half of a set of twins, his sister currently working under a Nurse Joy in order to become a pokemon doctor, and he was already a top coordinator back in his home region of Kalos. Marinette is a coordinator like him and also came from the Kalos region like Lyon, but she is usually shy and also has desires to become a pokemon fashion designer.

He had met Kagami during one of the social events they were both forced to attend by their parents. They got along great and both had the same desire to be free. If they were in the same town, which happened more often than one would think, they would often use each other as an excuse to sneak away for a gym battle, contest, or training with their pokemon. He met Lyon by chance when he had been training and his Turtwig almost hit the Top Coordinator with a razor leaf gone wild. Lucky for him that Lyon was a lot more down-to-earth than one would expect from a person with as much success as him while he was so young. Marinette, being a fellow coordinator, had been at a contest which she had lost to him. She had seen him take off his Cat Noir mask and recognized him from his father's magazines. She had been a great friend to him and understood why he used the mask.

There were few things that could actually make him smile so carefree other than contests. His constant photoshoots, dealing with stuck-up models, and his seemingly careless father did not make him smile that way. He hated modeling and even though he loved being all the pokemon that he modeled with, he wanted to see pokemon just as free as he wanted to be. He wanted to be famous for working hard like legendary trainers Ash Ketchum, Gary Oak, and Steven Stone. Or coordinators like Fantina, Wallace, and Zoey.

But he was now was at the top pokemon contest of the Sinnoh region. The Grand Festival. He had earned his ribbons and now Cat Noir was at his first Grand Festival. What he looked forward to most of all was that he knew that Kagami was going to be in the audience, Lyon was a special guest, and that Marinette was also competing.

He did not like the idea that he might have to battle his friend at some point, but these things do tend to happen. Especially since he was also aware that other friends of his had also made it to the Grand Festival. They had all attended the same pokemon school before it was time for their journeys to begin. He knew his friends Luka, Nathaniel, and his childhood friend Chloe were also all competing.

So, he was just getting ready backstage before all of them would have their qualifying performances before the battle rounds started. He was in his Grand Festival outfit of a black suit with green details, a black and green coat with a cape-like back, shiny green dress shoes, "cat claw" gloves, his signature cat-eye mask, and fake black cat ears on his head.

"My, my, don't you look fancy," Adrien heard near him.

The model almost jumped out of his skin but calmed down when he saw that it was just Lyon. And from looking at him, he definitely saw why people called him the White Wolf.

Lyon was in an icy outfit that almost gave him the illusion of having his own ice powers. He had on a fancy white vest over a blue short-sleeve silk shirt. It matched the white pants that he wore with his shin-high blue boots. He also wore a white hooded cloak with snowflake designs all over it. On his lower arms were silver arm-band bracelets with snowflake and wolf designs on them. His midnight-black hair also had fake wolf ears in it.

"Oh, Lyon," Adrien let himself breathe again. "For a second, I thought my identity had been discovered."

"Well, you may need to get a little better at hiding when you change," Lyon chuckled. "If you win and become Top Coordinator, the press will be even more ruthless with trying to find out your identity."

"I deal with the press on a regular basis already, Lyon," Adrien reminded him.

"Yeah, but I can tell you from experience that when it comes to being a Top Coordinator, people pay more attention to us," Lyon said.

"Well, I can see why that would happen with you," Adrien not-so-subtly flirted with him.

"Careful, kitty," Lyon teased him. "Wouldn't want the wolf to eat the cat before his big performance."

Adrien chuckled, always having liked how they could always joke around with their chosen performer names of cat and wolf. There were so few people that he could act like himself around and he certainly enjoyed Lyon's company.

"So, you here as just a special guest or also as a surprise judge," Adrien asked him.

"My dear Cat Noir, now that would be telling," Lyon smirked as he teased the teen coordinator.

"Oh, thank Arceus that I found you," they both heard a female voice.

They both turned and saw Marinette running toward them. Lyon recognized her from pictures that Adrien had sent him and of course, Adrien would recognize his best friend even if she was decked out in her Grand Festival dress. Probably a dress of her own design as well.

She was in a beautiful dress that was in a ladybug design with a little pink mixed in. It was a knee-length dress that was mostly red with black spots all over it. Under it was a crinoline that was colored pink that helped her dress by more poofy. The sleeves of her dress were elegant bell sleeves that ended at her elbows and lower arms instead of her wrists. Her hair was also extended and placed into a long ponytail coming from the top of the back of her head with roses tied where the ponytail started. On her feet were red wedge-heel boots that went up to her knees.

"How you can run in those heels is beyond me," Lyon said.

"Especially given that one of the first things that you told me about yourself was that you are extremely clumsy," Adrien added.

"Well, I was running with a purpose," Marinette said.

"That purpose being to find one of us if what you had said means anything," Lyon says.

"It's about Adrien, or rather Cat Noir really," Marinette said.

"Oh, great," Adrien sighed, having expected the fame of his mysterious identity to cause some type of drama at the Grand Festival.

"Do you remember when I was telling you about that liar, Adrien," Marinette asked him.

"Yeah," Adrien nodded. "Lila is what you told me her name was. The girl that lies with every breath she takes and has an ego bigger than a Wailord."

"Well, she somehow got her five ribbons and is going around telling people that she knows who you are," Marinette tells her friend.

"What," Adrien's eyes widen.

"Not just that," Marinette continued. "She is also saying that she is dating you and you're apparently head over heels for her."

Adrien could not help but facepalm when he heard that.

"Here comes the headache that I did not know was going to happen," he groaned.

"Here's some aspirin," Marinette gave Adrien the medicine. "I thought that if the liar managed to get here, I would need some myself. I've already had three headaches because of her. And that is just today."

"Am I missing something," Lyon asked.

"Yes," Adrien said before popping the medicine into his mouth.

Marinette rolled her eyes as she took the liberty of explaining.

"Lila Rossi is a pathological liar that I ran into after I won my first two contests," she says. "At first, I had believed her tall tales until she said that she knew the designer for Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale."

"MDC," Lyon raised an eyebrow. "As such a private designer, I highly doubt that a random girl would know her. Especially if she is bragging about it to anyone that will listen to her."

Marinette nodded. "Exactly. So I then immediately knew that Lila was nothing but a liar. Especially since she said that MDC is a boy when anyone with common sense, and access to the internet, know that MDC's only given clue to who she is that she is a she."

"Yet, people actually believe her," Lyon put a hand on his hip.

"As I said, she is a pathological liar," Marinette says. "One that uses people's knowledge to make her lies sound realistic. Like how my friend Rose is friends with Prince Ali, and my boyfriend Luka is Jagged Stone's son, and even how Adrien is Cat Noir. Lila uses people's own experiences to give her lies credibility. Like a situation of 'if I can know celebrities then so can she."

"Weirdly enough, I can see how that makes sense," Adrien said.

"What can we do about her," Lyon asked. "Can we just have Adrien call her out as Cat Noir?"

"Since Adrien has to keep his identity a secret, she could just pull out another lie about him protecting her or that they got into a fight," Marinette said. "It's how she explained when MDC posted on social media that she had never met Lila before."

"This is gonna be a disaster, isn't it," Adrien guessed. "There is no way someone like how you describe Lila would go down without a fight."

"She may be lying, but won't she lie herself into a corner," Lyon asked. "Especially if 'Cat Noir' actually does enter a relationship."

"The problem is the damage that she can cause along the way," Marinette said.

"Trust me, I was on your train of thought as well until Marinette explained things more to me," Adrien said. "Lila is not just lying about herself, she is also lying about what she can do for others. Saying that she can put a good word in for people to get certain jobs, internships, or futures in careers that they want. When it actually comes time for them to her to fulfill those promises, a lot of people will be met with disappointment. Plus, with her promising these things, they will not apply to other jobs, colleges, or internships on their own. It would take a long time for them to recover from her lies."

"I see," Lyon understood what they meant. "Guess this just gives me more reasons to not come out in public more if I have to deal with people like her."

"She hasn't happened to make any lies about Lyon, has she," Adrien asked Marinette.

"Well, she apparently was trained in the art of contests by Lyon and was supposedly the muse that inspired him to chose his 'White Wolf' look," Marinette said.

"And... now I have a headache," Lyon pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Here you go," Marinette handed the top coordinator some aspirin.

"Thank you," he took it immediately.

Adrien had known Lyon for quite a while now. Lyon had come from a rich family just like he did. But while he had been almost forced to model, Lyon's parents let him choose his own path. He was known for being the youngest ever grand coordinator out there. But since he had met him, Adrien also knew that Lyon generally was very humble and kind, but was basically an ice prince to anyone that tries to use him for their own gain.

So if Lila was not in trouble before, she sure was going to be now that Lyon knew about her lying about him. And that was troubling enough without Lyon's twin sister, Vallia, hearing about this. She might have the nickname of the Flower Princess and might be trying to become a Pokemon doctor, but that did not mean she was not dangerous on the battlefield.

"If she is still telling lies, I am guessing that she still has her regular audience," Adrien looks at Marinette again.

She nodded sadly. "Alya is still her most loyal sheep and there are also a lot of other friends of ours that are under her spell as well."

Lyon looked at the two with a raised eyebrow, silently asking for more details.

"There are times where I can escape photoshoots even if I do not have a contest to sneak off to," Adrien explained. "I would meet up with Marinette as much as I could and she introduced me to a lot of her friends. I have especially gotten along well with Nino, Kim, Juleka, and Marinette's boyfriend Luka."

"And before Lila came along, my friend Alya was my best friend," Marinette said. "I went to our town pokémon school with them before we all started our journeys. But when Lila showed up with all of her tall tales and false promises, they follow her like sheep following their shepherd. Most of my old class is under her spell. Only Adrien, myself, Luka, Kim, Juleka, and our other friends Nathaniel, Marc, and Kagami know that she is nothing but a liar."

"Alya used to be a reporter hopeful," Adrien tells Lyon. "She ran a very popular blog about up-and-coming battlers and coordinators. But then Lila came along with her tales and now most of Alya's blog is about her. She basically takes Lila's words as gospel and attacks anyone that so much as even hints that they think that Lila is anything less than a perfect angel."

"Wow," Lyon gasped. "This girl sounds worse than an angry Darkrai, and you never want to run into one of those."

"Yeah, Lila is a piece of work," Adrien sighed. "She really needs to be silenced before her tales get someone into trouble."

"Yeah," Marinette said. "She has been saying how Jagged Stone wrote a song about her and that Clara Nightingale stole dance moves from her. Those types of lies can ruin their careers."

"Well, I have no secret identity," Lyon says. "She won't be able to lie her way out of me saying that I have no idea who she is."

"Just be careful how you explain how you heard about her lies," Adrien warned him. "Lila has been trying to turn people against Marinette because she knows about her lies. At a few past contests that I had won, I heard a few other coordinators insulting her all because of lies that Lila told about her."

Lyon looked disgusted by the behavior. Coordinators and battlers were both very large families. Yes, there were some bad seeds in each family, but this girl was something way beyond a bad seed. How can one person just be such a selfish liar that she is willing to ruin another person's life just because they did not believe their lies?

But before they could continue their conversation, an announcement was made over the backstage speakers. It was for the coordinators that were competing to get ready since the first round was going to be starting soon.

"Just do your best, you two," Lyon tells them. "And if that liar gives you any trouble, she won't be much of an issue for much longer."

With a "Whoosh" of his cloak, Lyon left to go down the hallway. He had his own business at the Grand Festival that he needed to take care of before he would be able to help his friends.

"He always did like to make dramatic exits," Adrien chuckled.

"I just hope we actually won't have to deal with Lila for much longer," Marinette says.

The two of them went the opposite way down the hall, to the locker room where the contestants have to stay when they are not on stage. Adrien went to the side and leaned against the wall to keep up his appearance of the mysterious and quiet Cat Noir. Looking around the room, he noticed some familiar faces. Like Marinette had gone to stand next to her boyfriend, and fellow coordinator, Luka. There was also her friend Nathaniel and his boyfriend Marc along with her former friend Nino, Alya's boyfriend. Adrien also noticed his childhood friend Chloe as well and, unfortunately, Lila.

Soon, on the screens, appeared Marian, the usual contest announcer for Sinnoh. And from the audience that was seen in the background, Adrien could make out Kagami in the crowd as well as Alya. He was surprised to see Kagami there, but it was a very welcome surprise.

"Welcome, everyone to the beautiful waterside town of Lake Valor for this year's Grand Festival," she announced into her mic, making the crowd cheer. "Sixty talented coordinators from all over the Sinnoh region have joined us here to perform and battle their way into becoming the newest Top Coordinator!"

"And that will be me," was muttered all around the locker room, from confident and cocky contestants.

"Over the next few days, these talents coordinators will perform and battle their way into being named the next Top Coordinator," Marian continued. "The first stage is the Performance Stage, where our contestants will show off the beauty of their pokémon and their moves in double performances. After this stage, we will boil down our contestants to the lucky thirty-two for the Battle Stage where they will fight in double battles to win the chance to be named Top Coordinator."

"We got this, Torterra," Adrien whispered to the Pokeball in his hand.

"And to help us, let me introduce our judges," Marian continued again. "First is the Chief of the Pokémon Activities Committee, our head judge, Mr.Contesta."

"I look forward to watching all these coordinators doing their very best," the judge said as the spotlight shined down on him.

"Next is the President of the Pokémon Fan Club, Mr.Sukiza," Marian introduced.

"Remarkable," the next judge used his catchphrase.

"And, of course, Nurse Joy," Marian announced. "She is a very special guest all the way from the Kanto region."

The spotlight shined down on the pokemon nurse.

"It's an honor to be here and to help judge these amazing contestants, I called my sisters from Pewter City and Cerulean City."

Two more Nurse Joy seemed to materialize from behind her.

"We're very happy to be here," they all said at once.

"And last, but definitely not the least, our guest judge," Marian announces, making the crowd and contestants curious as to who it might be. "He is the youngest ever Top Coordinator of three regions and has graced us with his presence from all the way in Kalos. He's known as the White Wolf, it's Lyon Garden!"

A fourth spotlight shined down and Lyon was presented, making the crowd erupt into cheers.

Adrien was both shocked and not shocked at the same time. He figured that Lyon was here for a reason, but he suspected that it was for a guest performance, not as a judge. But he did smirk as he saw Lila pale a little at the sight of one of the people that she lied about.

"Ladies and gentlemen, coordinators of all ages," Lyon says. "I hope to see plenty of creativity, skill, passion, and most of all, I want to see good sportsmanship. I wish you all the luck in the world, but I will still tell you the cold hard truth about everything you and your pokemon do."

Adrien chuckled under his breath. Lyon would always be Lyon, and that meant that the Ice Prince, which all of their friends called him, would come out every now and again.

"The performance stage will be divided into three separate stages," Marian announced as all three male judges went to a separate stage with one of the Nurse Joy's. "Blue, green, and red. And the performances will be happening simultaneously. Let's get this first round started!"

The crowd cheered. In the locker room, the three first contestants were called out for each of the stages.

Adrien certainly got the meaning of the three stages. It was an extra challenge to be able to do a proper performance when there were two others happening at the same time. It was all about being able to focus on what you were doing and not get overwhelmed.

As the performances started and coordinators showed off their skills, Adrien definitely saw a few that would be his main competition. Such as when Luka took his turn on the blue stage, he did a very enchanting performance with his Sunflora and ghost-type Oricoro. As Marinette has told him, Luka loves music and almost always includes sound in his performances. And as he heard the sound and saw the glowing musical notes of Luka's performance, he knew that boy was going to be a challenging opponent.

There was also Nathaniel and Marc. They worked on a pokemon comic book together, so both of their creative and artistic skills showed in their performances. And it was also an amazing sight to see how Nathaniel had a rare Phione that he paired with his Piplup for his performance was stunning aquatic moves. And Marc was definitely no slouch as he gave an incredible display of nature with his Meganium and Cherubi.

But that was to say that there were not some fails as well.

Sadly, this list of fails included Nino. Adrien might have once called him a friend, but that certainly stopped when the guy started believing Lila's lies about Marinette. And by how badly he failed his performance, Adrien had to guess that Nino had probably taken some of Lila's "advice" about what he should do. It certainly was not a good look to the green stage judges when his Buizel went flying back from a Will-O-Wisp from his Drifblim was too powerful for the combo he was trying to do.

When Marinette got her turn on the red stage, Adrien was proven right when he had guessed that she would do a flawless performance. It was an amazing combination of her icy Amaura with her beautiful Vivillon. Especially when she had beautiful glowing snowflakes falling all over the stage with a combination of icy wind and silver wind followed by a morning sun.

Plus, it was certainly nice to see Lila so angry over Marinette having done nothing wrong in her performance one bit.

But even Adrien had to admit that even though he hated Lila as a person, she did pretty well during her own performance. Sure, her combo moves were a little predictable with the pokemon that she chose, but they still worked out in the end for her. But Adrien had a feeling that like the liar that she was, she was probably just using combo moves that she has seen in the past and using them herself but with different pokemon so that it is not obvious that she is just a copycat.

Then, Cat Noir was called for the blue stage. Adrien took a deep breath as he went out toward the stage. He passed Marinette on his way and she gave him an encouraging hug. He knew that Lyon was the judge for the blue stage along with the main Nurse Joy guest judge from Kanto. But he knew that Lyon would not judge him any easier just because they were friends. If anything, he'd be judged harder since Lyon knows how hard he had trained for this.

"And next on the blue stage is the talk of the Grand Festival," he heard Marian announce. "A masked coordinator that has been taking the contest world by storm. The pokemon contest prodigy himself, Cat Noir."

There was loud cheering as he ran out there and pulled out his pokeballs.

"Torterra, Togekiss, claws out," he threw their pokeballs into the air with his signature catchphrase.

With the star sticker on both the pokeballs, both of the pokemon came out in a swirl of stars. Most would doubt using a pokemon as big and tough-looking as Torterra for the Performance Stage, but Adrien was not most people.

Togekiss lands gracefully on the tree of Torterra's shell. There was a reason why Togekiss were known as some of the most graceful pokemon in the world.

"Togekiss, sky attack. Torterra, leaf storm," Adrien commanded.

Togekiss shined with a white aura as it slowly floated into the air. But at the same time, Torterra's tree let out its storm of leaves and green wind. Since Togekiss was right on the tree, as it flew into the air, the storm swirled around it and followed it. The leaves and window giving off an incredible light that was a result of the combo of the light of the sky attack with the flow of the leaf storm. Togekiss then flew higher into the air.

"Safeguard," Adrien commanded.

Togekiss then unleashed the blue and sea green force field that the protection move grants. It caused the sky attack and the leaf storm to disperse in a gorgeous flash of light.

Lyon and Nurse Joy both looked impressed by how he so effortlessly made a beautiful start to his performance.

"Torterra, sunny day. Togekiss, aerial ace," Adrien commanded.

Torterra's tree glowed with sunlight as it then threw a ball of light into the air. It headed right toward Togekiss as it was surrounded by streams of white energy as it flew around to use its move. The sunny day move was hit by Togekiss, resulting in a bright flash of light.

And the crowd and judges and fellow contestants gasped as Togekiss emerged from the light. The aerial ace and sunny day had merged together and had created a stunning rainbow trail that followed it as it flew around the stage. It was one of the most stunning things ever seen in a contest in ages.

Togekiss then did an aerial twirl before landing right back on Torterra's tree and causing the rainbow trail to burst into rainbow-colored sparkles that fell all over the stage.

Adrien took a bow as his performance ended. The crowd and judges were all on their feet as they gave him a giant round of applause. Lyon caught his eye and gave him a look filled with pride and congratulations.

"I don't think I have ever seen a performance like that," Lyon says, doing his judging. "A true mastery of both the power of a Torterra and the elegance of a Togekiss. Truly the best performance I have seen in a long time."

"It was indeed incredible," Nurse Joy added her judging. "To combine two pokemon so different from each other and making them work in such harmony really is a breathtaking piece of art."

Adrien could not be prouder of himself as he returned Torterra and Togekiss to their pokeballs and then started to walk back to the locker room. He was about halfway there when Marinette basically tackled him with a hug.

"I have never seen anything like that," she practically yelled in excitement. "You're Torterra was so well-trained and Togekiss was beautiful. I will never know where you get your time to train performances like that, but that was so awesome."

Adrien chuckled at the enthusiasm of his friend.

"Thanks, Marinette," he said. "I loved your performance as well. Those snowflakes were such works of art and they were almost like fairies floating around the stage."

Marinette blushed at the compliment.

"Thanks," she smiled. "I knew that ice moves and flying-type moves are usually a good mix, so when you add in the light from the silver wind, it creates the snowflakes."

"I just know that I will see you in the finals," Adrien grinned at her. "I may not want to beat you, but I'm going to."

"In your dreams, kitty," Marinette giggled as she knew that it would be one hell of a showdown.

"Get your hands off of Lila's man, Mari-brat," a female voice was heard.

"And, here we go again," Marinette groaned.

Marinette turned around as Adrien looked at who was yelling. It seems that Alya was as much of Lila's attack Growlith now as she always seems to be since the liar showed up in their lives. And it looked like Lila was fake crying behind her while Nino was trying to comfort her.

"Uh... who are you," Adrien asked.

Now, Adrien had done some voice acting for a few movies that his dad wanted him to do. So, he was a pretty good actor. Adrien might know who Alya is, but Cat Noir has never met her before.

Alya looked at Adrien, smiling at him. But he could still see the rage in her eyes over something that Lila probably lied about. This was probably about the lies about him dating Lila with the liar probably also throwing in some other lies to make Marinette look even worse.

"Oh, I guess Lila never mentioned me," Alya said. "I'm Alya, your girlfriend's best friend."

"Uh... And who is..." Adrien tried to reveal Lila as a liar.

"Oh, don't worry about lying to protect her," Alya interrupted him, proving that they were right about how Lila would lie her way out of Cat Noir saying that he did not know her. "But I should warn you that this girl that you're talking to is nothing but a giant bully."

"Excuse me," Adrien had to stop himself from snapping at Marinette's former best friend.

"She is nothing but a bully, liar, and cheat," Alya glared at Marinette. "She is always bullying Lila and trying to steal her pokemon. She always calls Lila a liar when she is no such thing. Plus, she drugs all her pokemon to make sure her performances are good. Plus, she steals Lila's contest ideas. So, get your hands off of Lila's boyfriend, Mari-brat."

"You know, Luka used to tell me that you're heart song screamed that you were a bad friend," Marinette crossed her arms. "I did not believe him, but I will never doubt him ever again since you have ditched me for a liar."

"SEE," Alya yelled as she looked at Adrien and pointed at Marinette as if she had just been proven right. "She just called Lila a liar. She is a total bully."

"Well, she obviously is..." Adrien was interrupted again but by a different person this time.

"Hello, kitty," Lyon says as he approached the group.

"Wolfie," Adrien was immediately back in a good mood as he saw his friend.

"I have a reward for you for such an incredible performance," Lyon said.

Before Adrien could ask, he was suddenly kissed by Lyon. But the shock soon wore off as he melted into the kiss.

Marinette looked ready to burst in excitement as her ship has finally sailed. But she did now owe Luka a batch of his favorite caramel and chocolate scones since he had bet her that the two would get together at the Grand Festival while she thought it would happen after it. But she did not care.

Alya looked ready to burst in anger. Lila looked like she wanted to either cry more fake tears or just throw a monster tantrum. Nino just stood there with his mouth hanging open.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF ARCEUS ARE YOU DOING," Alya screamed.

That made them break apart from the kiss. But Lyon just put his arm around Adrien's waist.

"I believe that I was kissing my boyfriend," Lyon said. "We've had to keep it secret because of the media, but we've been together a few months."

Adrien and Marinette both knew that he was lying, but they did not care. Besides, this was to both expose Lila and have an excuse to start dating.

"You've been cheating on your girlfriend for that long," Alya continued to scream.

Lila then chose to speak up, also choosing to fake cry.

"How could you do this to be, Noir," she cried to fake tears.

"Oh, so this is the girl that you were warning me about, Marinette," Adrien decided to join Lyon in his act. "The one that was going around and saying that I was dating her?"

"Yep, that's her," Marinette played along as well.

"Well, then," Adrien started, facing Alya. "As I was about to tell you, I do not have a girlfriend. I never have and I never will. As you can plainly see, I am gay and I have a wonderful boyfriend."

"Lila is not a liar," Alya continued to scream. "You're just a cheater that is trying to make her look bad."

"Wow, this girl is a piece of work," Lyon rolled his eyes.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," Alya yelled at Lyon. "She was the one that gave you the inspiration to be the White Wolf and you trained her to be a coordinator. How could you betray her like this?!?"

"Her? Inspire me? As if," Lyon gave Alya an icy glare. "This is the first day that I have ever met this girl. I became the White Wolf because my sister used to call me a wolf because of how loyal I am to my friends and family. They also all call me the Ice Prince, so White Wolf was born out of my two childhood nicknames."

"You need better friends since Marinette is most definitely is right," Adrien said. "This Lila girl is, most definitely, nothing but a liar."

"Let's go before our IQ gets any lower from being around a liar and her loyal sheep," Lyon held Adrien's hand as the three of them left. "And if someone is accusing you of drugging your pokemon, Marinette, I will lend you my family lawyers to sue that liar for slander."

Marinette wanted to laugh so hard as she saw the look of horror on Lila's face as they passed. She did start laughing once they were out of earshot.

"This is turning into the best day of my life," Marinette looked so happy.

"You're welcome," Lyon smirked.

"Won't you now get accused of favoritism when Lila will probably spread that you two are 'together' as revenge," Marinette asked Lyon.

"Everyone saw Adrien's performance, so I doubt that will happen," Lyon was confident.

"Okay," Marinette accepted that. "Also, it is about time you two got together. Adrien's had a crush on you forever."

"MARINETTE," Adrien yelled as he blushed.

All Marinette did in response was smirk and giggle.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Unexpected Places (Pt. 10 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 2.7 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

<- Previous part (09)

Next part (11)->

{Vikings Masterlist}

×

A Lot To Celebrate

You're not a poet, and you surely weren't born with literary talents. But if that's something you learned after coming to Kattegat, is that you can feel. And you feel it, the distance, the days that don't seem to pass by. Aslaug takes you to everything she has to do, alongside Helga, Torvi, and some other women. The weather is quite nice, and you're not cold all the time. Kattegat is a completely different place, but you do find ways to enjoy it. The town is empty, less loud than it used to be. And it doesn't help when Ivar's absence hits.

It usually happens in the morning, or the evening. When you wake up, with nobody lying next to you, and right before falling asleep. You miss Hvitserk too, and even Ubbe. Bjorn... Not really.

Aslaug started talking about marriage after a while, making you blush so hard you feel like you'll burst into flames. You haven't spoken to Ivar about it, and you don't want to take things too fast. But secretly, you enjoy making plans, and you even give some ideas of what you'd like. The celebration is quite different here, and you can actually have a say in what you want and what you don't.

You start getting impatient when the winds start blowing colder, a sign that summer is passing. And you can't even begin to describe your happiness when the news arrive of the boats returning. The town bursts into life, and you decide to pick up some flowers in the woods to make yourself a crown. Helga comes with you, happy her husband is coming back. Searching through the forest, you put the flowers you like on a basket, holding the bar of your dress out of the way as you climb a small slope.

“What do we have here?” The voice doesn't belong to Helga, that's obvious, and it makes you turn around, freezing when you find two men standing some feet away.

Looking at the sides, you see Helga, way too far among the threes, oblivious to your company. “What do you want?” You ask, fingers holding the basket a little tighter. “The warriors are returning from England.”

“We know.” The tallest says, walking over you. “We were heading to Kattegat but now that we found a pretty girl like you...” He smiles, and his friend circles around you, making it impossible for you to run. “...We thought we could use a little distraction.”

“(Y/N)?” Helga calls, and you look her way. She comes running, grabbing your arm when she reaches you.

“One for each.” The one standing behind you says. “That's an improvement.”

“If you touch any of us, Ivar the Boneless will know.” You speak fast, holding Helga's hand.

At the mention of Ivar, the one before you steps back, squinting his eyes. “Ivar isn't here.”

“He's on the boats about to arrive.” You explain, trying to keep your voice steady. “I belong to him now, and I'm sure you know Ivar is very possessive of the things he owns.” Pulling Helga with you, you start walking.

“Are we going to let them go?”

“I won't piss Ivar off.”

“We'd be done with both of them and far away from Kattegat before he even gets here.”

“Run.” Helga whispers and you both set in motion.

You're not sure if they're following you or not, but you don't stop until you're back in town. The basket and the flowers were left behind, you're not sure where, but it doesn't matter. Once you're surrounded by people again, you try to catch your breaths.

“Are you alright?” You ask, running a hand through your hair.

“Yes. You did right back there. Talking about Ivar.”

“It wouldn't stop the other one.” Taking a deep breath, you start walking again. “It doesn't matter. Not now. They're almost here.”

“You tell Ivar about that. They'll probably come to Kattegat.”

“I will.” But not now. As you walk to the deck, the first boats are already here, and you're immediately looking for Ivar.

The fear from moments before vanishes when you finally spot his boat, sailing way too slowly for your taste. When it finally stops, you push some people out of the way, unable to just stand there and wait. When you see him, you get the same feeling you had on the first time those blue eyes met yours. Smiling, you watch as two men help him out of the boat, putting him on the ground. You're not sure why he's not with the clutch but you don't care. Kneeling, you sit on your legs as Ivar crawls over you. Your heart is trying to beat its way out of your chest it seems, and you feel relieved to see he's not wounded.

“Hi.” He says, a funny smile on his lips.

“Been a while.” Ivar settles down, hands resting on his lap.

“Sorry if I'm not standing, princess, but–”

Grabbing the collar of his leather vest, you pull him into a kiss. Standing, crawling, it doesn't matter. Ivar is back, alive and well, and you'll have him all winter.

“Do you have to do that here?” A very annoyed Ubbe complains, making you pull away and laugh.

“Hello, Ubbe.” You stand up, giving him a quick hug. “It's good to have you back.”

“It's good to be back.” He smiles, walking away, and greeting some people.

“Hvitserk?” You ask Ivar, at the same moment you see him coming your way with his father.

“I'm still here,” Ivar complains when you step away a little to hug Hvitserk and Ragnar, welcoming them back.

”Don't be jealous.” You tell him, keeping his pace as he crawls through the deck. “Let's get you cleaned up. You have some blood on your clothes that I know it's not yours.”

Ivar simply giggles, and that's all the answer you need.

Ragnar's house is very, very loud tonight. You hear them from inside your bedroom as you dress up for the biggest feast they have here. To celebrate those who came back alive and to honor those who didn't. Once you're ready, in a new, beautiful dress, you sneak your way to the main hall, but you stay behind the leather-like curtains, a few feet away from Ragnar. He glances at you, smiling.

“Ivar isn't here yet.” He says, and you raise your eyebrows.

“What makes you think I'm looking for him?” Shrugging your shoulders, you're happy he's too far to see your blushing cheeks.

“I know a lovebird when I see one.” He mutters, giggling.

“Fine, old man.” Rolling your eyes, you step back, waving at Ragnar before turning on your heels and heading for Ivar's bedroom.

The halls are empty, obviously, and your footsteps echo. You're not sure why Ivar isn't at the feast yet, so you softly knock on his door instead of just pushing it open.

“Who's it?”

“Me.” You answer, wondering what's about with his angry tone. “Can I come in?”

“I'm bathing.”

“And?” Your brain is somehow slower than your body because you only process what Ivar said when you're already inside. “Oh.” You mutter, seeing Ivar in a huge tub. Pushing the door close, you clear your throat. “Sorry... I can leave if you want.”

“No, I...” Stuttering, Ivar settles down again, his back at you. “There are just some things you don't have to see.”

“Like your legs?” You decide to just say it, noticing, even though he's looking away, that he nods. Slowly, you make your way to where he is, and you can't help but notice his tub is like three times the size of yours. For the legs, probably. The closer you get, the more restless Ivar gets, as if he's trying to hide himself. “Your hair is dripping.” You whisper, stopping behind him. “The floor is all wet.”

“They'll clean it up after.” He snaps, turning his head to look at you. “You don't have to–”

“To see you?” Walking around the tub, you just look. You know why they call him Boneless now, but you were expecting something far, far worse. Slowly, you raise your stare until you meet his eyes again.

Ivar expects you to leave. You can see it in his eyes. He expects you to leave and be with someone else. Probably, Bjorn, you think. But no. You don't want anyone else, and you need to show him that.

Taking a deep breath, you pull the skirts of your dress up to your thighs, stepping inside the tub. “What are you doing?” Ivar asks, a low chuckle escaping his lips. As you lower yourself, the water spills out, and you pity whoever will have to clean this up.

“This tub is huge. It fits two.” You answer, settling down, straddling his hips. A smile breaks through his lips, and you feel your heart warming up. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sigh. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” Ivar brings a hand to caress your cheek, and you close your eyes.

“And I need you to know that I don't want anyone else.” Whispering, you place a lingering kiss on his lips. “I want you, Ivar. Crippled and everything, I love...” Your voice fades as you realize the word you just said. Biting your lip, you clear your throat. There's no reason to hide it, it's true. And he has to know. “I love you.”

“Marry me.”

Whatever you were going to say next, it gets stuck in your throat. You can't help but wonder if you heard him right, and then, you just expect him to laugh, to say it was a joke. But Ivar just stares at you with a serious face. “A-are you for real?” You stutter, looking for any signs of doubt on his face.

“I am.” He nods, his thumb caressing your lower lip. “I want you to be my wife.”

Smiling, you pull him into a kiss, fast and passionate, that leaves both of you breathless in no time, forcing you to pull away. “Yes, I want to be your wife.” You tell him, unable to keep the smile from your face.

“Then buy a new, pretty dress, and make a flower crown for the wedding.”

“Well, I was going to make a flower crown to welcome you back but...” Helga did say you should tell Ivar, but you don't want to ruin the moment, it just happened that the conversation flowed this way.

“What?” He inquires, already aware something is wrong.

“I went to the woods with Helga when we heard the boats were coming to pick up some flowers but these two men showed up and surrounded me.” You speak in a low voice, not really pleased on remembering it. “When I said I was with you one of them backed off immediately, but the other said they could be done with both Helga and I before you got here. So we ran.”

Ivar's expression changes and you get now why people fear him. It feels like he could burn those men alive by just thinking about them. “Are they here?” He asks, voice clouded by fury.

“They said they'd be coming to Kattegat so probably yes.”

“Then let's get out of this tub and join the feast.” Ivar kisses you on the lips before holding your waist and pushing you up.

It's not like you could stop him, so you just do as he says. Your dress is ruined, so you go back to your room to put on a dry one. Half an hour later, you're entering the main hall, hand in hand. Ivar gives you a look that you already know what means. He wants to know if they are here, so leaving him standing by the thrones, you walk around, eyes scanning through the people. You're about to give up, thinking they had the decency not to show up when you eye Helga, and she tilts her head to the side. And there they are, chatting, unaware of the rage that will rain upon them.

Turning around, you find Ivar's eyes set on you. Feeling brave, you walk over to the two man, with their backs at you, touching both their shoulders. They stop suddenly, curiously looking at who's behind them. But when they see you, their expression change, as if they've just seen a ghost.

“Hello again.” It's everything you get to say before some men, ordered by Ivar, come to take them away as they desperately try to fight, saying they're sorry. But it's a little too late for that.

“Now that the trash was removed...” Ivar raises his voice, and a silence falls on the hall. Making your way over him, you blush a little, taking his hand. “...I want to announce that Princess (Y/N) and I are getting married.” The hall bursts into cheer as people raise their cups and celebrate.

Aslaug comes to hug you and her son, a smile that means she already knew this was coming. Ragnar comes next, then Helga, Floki, Torvi. Hvitserk comes running, hugging, and spinning you around, a bright smile on his lips. Ubbe does the same, telling his brother something you couldn't hear. Bjorn only nods from a distance before walking away. You're so happy now that it hurts to see him so bad. Sighing, you grab Ivar's arm.

“I'll go speak with your brother. I'm sure the news didn't sit well with him.” You know about the growing jealousy between the two brothers, but everyone will have to learn to deal with it. Nobody is going anywhere, and the best you can do is try to make things work out.

Ivar gives you a look, not happy about it, but sighs and nods. “He'll try to convince you to marry him instead.”

“Then he'll lose his time.” Placing a kiss on his lips, you smile and go where you saw Bjorn walking to. You find him outside, drinking what's left of his cup before letting it fall to the ground. Pulling your cloak tighter, you slowly approach him. “I'm not the only princess out there, you know it, right?”

Bjorn turns around suddenly, furrowing his eyebrows. “Came to make me feel better?”

“I came to tell say that you don't love me, Bjorn.” Walking over him, you stop when you're closer. “You love the idea of the prophecy being fulfilled.”

“Don't act as if you know me.”

“I may not know you, but I know this.” Raising your voice a little, you take a deep breath. “Maybe the Seer wasn't talking about me.” You don't believe their Seer or the things he says, but if it's to make Bjorn feel better, to put some sense into his head, you don't mind bringing him up. And, you did learn a lot about their culture, and you know how things work here. “If it was, I wouldn't have fallen for Ivar.” Friendly, you touch his arm. “I assure you who the Seer saw wasn't me, so don't waste the time you could use finding love. This... This is what was supposed to happen, Bjorn. And what's supposed to happen to you will come, I know it.”

Despite the nod, you don't think he's convinced. “You're very beautiful.” Bjorn says in a low voice, and you blush, looking down and muttering a ‘thank you’. “I never thought anyone would really love Ivar, and to know someone looking like this chose him over me.” He giggles. “It's insane.”

“Well, thanks for the compliment. But it's not about choosing him over you. And it's not about him being a crippled and you having normal legs. It's about the heart.” Shrugging your shoulders, you see when Bjorn looks at something behind you, and you know who it is. “The heart is a wild creature, Bjorn, it loves who is loves and... Mine loves Ivar.” Giving him a small smile, you step back. “Yours will find someone too.” Turning around, your smile grows bigger when you see Ivar, walking over him and taking his hand on yours. “Let's go back in there. We have a lot to celebrate.”

×

@multific @revolution-starter @crackhead1-800 @youbloodymadgenius @clown-boyyy @kitten0394 @castielsangelx-blog @goldlion07 @midnightmystic @readsalot73 @xvxcarolinexvx @momowhoo @fangfoxy @msrawog @walkingonshunshine @alytavzla @anotherfan07 @heavenly1927 @msrawog @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

[writingsonawall]

Falling, fallen chapter 1

Pairings: Spencer Reid x OFC

Story summary: Spencer randomly meets Leah at the library and their first encounter was supposed to be just that; a random one-time occurance. When an unsub lands Spencer in the very same hospital she works at, she feels obligated to take care of him. But what happens when his team notices her everlooming presence and theorises that perhaps she could be the unsub they’re looking for?

Chapter summary: The guy Leah had met at the library just an hour ago suddenly gets wheeled into the ER where she works. 

Warnings: Mention of blood, but not a lot.

Wordcount: 6,6 k

Prologue, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7,

Leah hadn’t even been on call for half an hour when a stretcher was rolled in through the doors of the ER, someone shouting “Male, early thirties! Gunshotwound to the lower abdomen.” That was about all she was able to concentrate on. The ER was a mess of chaos, every available doctor and nurse running between patients. People were running into each other, medicalequipments crashing onto the floor every now and then, some patients screaming out in pain… Leah could feel the beginning of a migraine sneaking up on her. She almost never worked in the ER, usually sticking to Post Op. or the ICU, but there had been a masscollision on the highway that night so it was kind of like an all hands on deck situation. 

Leah was currently working on picking out broken glass from the arm of an elderly woman. It wasn’t a terrible wound, but judging by the way it was bleeding she’d probably need stitches. Still, Leah had no idea why she was there. Her injuries weren’t lifethreatning and the ER was overcrowded with other patients who actually needed their attention more than this woman. She’d be just fine if she had gone to an urgent care, but Leah wasn’t about to argue.

 “Leah, I’m gonna need you with me in traumaroom 2.” Dr. Ruiz called over the noise and it gathered her attention. She caught his glance across the room and saw that he was following the stretcher which had just been brought in by the ambulance. Leah quickly mumbled her apologies to the woman, pulled off her gloves and started to navigate through the sea of chaos. She eventually pushed the doors of traumaroom 2 open, rubbing her hands dry from the sanitizer she’d covered them with. 

“What’s his status?” Leah asked once she entered, quickly making her way over to the man laying across the stretcher. She knew why Dr. Ruiz had called her in here. The patient was a gunshotvictim, which usually meant a lot of blood. Typically, in cases like this, there were two doctors to check the injuries and make medicaldecisions. Gunshotwounds were always messy and it was hard to know what to expect, so two doctors in the room was always ideal, just in case the patient were to crash or there was a lifethreatning injury. But currently all doctors seemed to be otherwise occupied, so Leah understood why Dr. Ruiz had called her in. Blood and gore never bothered her, it actually made her calmer. The more pressure she had on her shoulders, the calmer and more collected she stayed. She was on the traumateam for a reason, although be it as a nurse, so she had seen a thing or two in her past. 

“Oh my God, Spencer!” She exclaimed, surprised to discover the identity of the man sprawled out in front of her. She stood there frozen in place for a moment, wondering what had happened. She had left him at the library not even an hour previously and now he was here, blood pooling slowly from the open wound in his abdomen. 

The surprise only shocked her for a split second before she shook herself out of her thoughts. Stroking a hand over his forehead, she matted his mop of curls out his face. Using a thumb to force one of his eyelids open, she grabbed a small flashlight from the pocket of her scrubs. 

“Spencer, can you hear me?” She asked him, shining the light into his eyes a few times, watching for any sort of unusual reaction of his pupils. She did the same with the other eye. “Spencer?” She asked once more. He was out cold, but his pupils responded as expected so that made her a little more at ease. 

“You know him?” Dr. Ruiz asked over his shoulder, roaming through the cabinets to find all the equipments he’d need to fully check the injuries. 

“Well, kinda,” Leah answered, not knowing what else to say in that moment. There was no use to lie about the fact that she’d met him an hour earlier, but she didn’t exactly know him. 

“Are you gonna be okay with this or do you need to step out?” Dr. Ruiz asked her, finally returning to stand at Spencer’s other side. 

“I’m good,” Leah told him, probably a little too fast to sound convincing. But it was true, she was nothing if not professional. 

“Okay,” Dr. Ruiz nodded. “Ready to move him?” He asked and it was Leah’s turn to nod. She pushed the stretcher closer to the bed in the room as Dr. Ruiz got out of the way. Locking the breaks of the stretcher so it wouldn’t budge, she grabbed a tight hold of the sheet underneath Spencer as the doctor did the same on the other side. They locked eyes and counted. One, two, three. In a split second they had Spencer lifted onto the bed with such ease it looked like they had done it a hundred times before. Which they actually probably had. Dr. Ruiz was one of the doctors Leah worked closest with, since he was typically stationed at Post Op. When they were both on call, Leah was nomally the person Dr. Ruiz would call for if he needed help. They were kind of a dream team; a force to be reckoned with whenever they worked together. 

As the doctor started to cut Spencer’s shirt open, Leah wheeled the stretcher out into the hall to give them space. Locking the door behind her again, she quickly took a look at his medicalfile which another nurse had just delivered in her hand. 

“This is gonna hurt. Let’s push for 10mg Oxycodone,” Dr. Ruiz told her once she returned to Spencer’s side. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Cave morphine,” Leah told him as she started slicing Spencer’s shirt open from his sleeve up to his shoulder. 

“Addiction or allergy?” The dortor asked. 

“Addiction. Dilaudid,” Leah informed him, having just read it in his file. She had already snapped gloves onto her hands and was working on getting the IV-kit ready. “Tramadol would be a safer option, right?” Tramadol was usually the kind of drugs they’d give to patients after minor surgeries or injuries to manage the pain. It was hardly as effective as Oxy-preparations, but it  was usually still enough to take the edge off. They hardly ever used it before they were able to assess the pain level of the patients, but it still seemed to be the least addictive morphinecontaining drug they had at hand. And given Spencer’s injuries some sort of morphine was needed despite what his medicalfile said. He needed something for the pain and NSAIDs weren’t going to cut it in that moment. They could handle whatever addiction-problem he had later; when he wasn’t in a potential life-threatening situation.

Dr. Ruiz nodded his head acutely, ordering her to administer 50mg. Leah worked quickly, finding a usable vein in Spencer’s hand and poking the cannula into it. Taping it down onto his hand, she hooked a bag of ring acetate to the pole by the bed and connected the tube to the IV. She noticed Spencer twitching a little at that and she moved to stand over his head. 

“Spencer, are you awake?” She asked, once again matting his hair back. She noted, even through the gloves she was wearing, that he was warm and sweaty. “I’m gonna give you something for the pain, okay? It’s Tramadol, so I hope that’s okay,” she informed him, even though she highly doubted that he was coherent enough to register her words. She did as she’d said she’d do, pushing a needle Dr. Ruiz had readied for her into the IV-tube and slowly administered the drug. While the painkillers worked its way through his system, she leaned over to help Dr. Ruiz. She put pressure on the wound on his abdomen while the doctor probed around with an ultrasound, trying to look for anything that could indicate whether Spencer had an internal bleeding. 

It didn’t even take a minute before Spencer calmed down, his twitching stopping completely and his breathing evening out. She was glad for that, not wanting him to be more uncomfortable than necessary. 

“You paged me?” A woman's voice startled Leah and she turned to the door which was now wide open. She was another doctor, but Leah couldn’t really recall her name. Not that she really cared either. 

“Yes!” Dr. Ruiz said, tightening the bandage they had just wrapped around Spencer’s wound. It was still bleeding, but the wrappings should be able to hold for the transport to the OR. “GSW to the lower abdomen. Patient is non responding, but stable. No sign of internal bleeding, but I’m sure he needs surgery to remove that bullet,” Dr. Ruiz informed the other woman who nodded along. She moved further into the room and cast a quick look at Spencer, checking the vitals, pupil responses, making sure the oxygenprosentage of his mask was correct before she once again nodded. 

“I agree. He’s stable enough to be moved? Then we should wheel him down to Pre Op.,” she concluded. 

“I’ll go with him,” Leah found herself speaking before she could even register those thoughts. 

“No, no, no, Leah,” Dr. Ruiz said, laying a clean hand on her shoulder. “I need you here in the ER. I’ll go with him and I’ll keep you updated. Don’t worry, he’s going to be fine.” His words reassured her a little. It’s not like Spencer was a friend or anything, but she knew him enough to put a name to the face and that brought this whole case a little closer to home. But she let him go, knowing she was needed more in the ER. 

She kept her hands busy for the next two hours before Dr. Ruiz finally returned, hovering just behind her as she was working on trying to determine if she should send the teenager in front of her up to radiology or not. 

“He’s in surgery now,” Dr. Ruiz informed her, not giving a care to the boy Leah was inspecting. He cried out in pain when she moved his foot at an odd angle. 

“I think he needs to take a trip over to radiology. Do you mind signing the papers?” Leah asked the doctor, not wanting to talk about Spencer right now, especially not in front of another patient. She let Dr. Ruiz take over the patient, but she hovered around until they had sent the boy on his way. She cleaned up after herself and took a glance around the ER. It was getting quiet now. The rush of patients had died down now and she spotted several doctors and nurses just hanging around, chatting and taking a well deserved minibreak. 

“Come on,” Dr. Ruiz said, putting a gentle hand on Leah’s shoulder. “Let’s grab a quick coffee and then you can head up to the ICU.” Leah had never felt more relieved by the idea of a cup of the shitty coffee the hospital had to offer. She really needed coffee now. 

Leah had always liked Dr. Ruiz. She considered him a friend, at least a workfriend. It’s not just that they worked well together, but he was always very considerate; always being there if she needed a shoulder to cry on at the end of a hard day, pushing her to take a break because she always refused to, bringing her powerbars if there was a busy day and they didn’t have time for a real meal. He was nice and she liked how she could always lean on him. 

“I don’t actually know him,” Leah finally spoke up once they had both filled up their cups with the cheap stuff the vendingmachines wanted to pass as coffee. Dr. Ruiz didn’t say anything, just gave a gesture of his hand for her to continue. He leaned back against the wall of the corridor and Leah mirrored him. “We just met earlier today, actually. I forgot my librarycard at the library and he found it, handed it back. We just had a small conversation, nothing big. But then I got called in for the accident, so I had to leave. I mean, I’d seen him just an hour ago and then they wheeled him in,” she explained, not really knowing what to feel. 

“And what? You blame yourself or something?” He asked, clearly reading her mind. 

“No, not really,” she told him, which was an obvious lie. “I guess it just shocked me. I don’t know. I mean, maybe it could have been me. I don’t even know what happened to him, but I keep thinking that it could have been me. Or maybe if I had stayed a little longer then this wouldn’t have happened at all.” She hadn’t heard anything about what had actually happened. Maybe it had been a robbery gone wrong, or maybe there had been a shootout and he was in the middle of the crossfire. She didn’t suspect the last one since they hadn’t received any other gunshotwound-patients, but the possibilities were still endless. All she knew was that he was brought in with a bullet in his abdomen and that he would hopefully pull through. 

“You know, you should really stop thinking like that. It’s not healthy,” Dr. Ruiz told her and it was exactly what she needed to hear. No bullshit excuse about how it wasn’t her fault or that there wouldn’t have been anything she could’ve done. Just a plain and simple command to stop overthinking. It made a small smile play on her lips. 

“Yeah, well… How can I not?” She asked him, glancing up. He gave her a sad smile, knowing it was hard to let those thoughts go. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his body. Leah sighed, leaning her head back into his shoulder while taking a sip of her coffee. He didn’t say anything else and neither did she. They just stayed there in silence for another few moments before he started leading her down the corridor. They said their goodbyes in front of the ICU, Dr. Ruiz promised he’d keep her updated on Spencer’s surgery. 

Leah prepared for a long night. Nightshifts were usually crap because it was so quiet and she was the kind of person who needed things to do. If she didn’t, she usually got all fidgety and restless, which was also why she never liked reading. She couldn’t sit still for longer periods of time. The more things she had to do, the better she felt once she got home at the end of the day. She had also prepared for a doubleshift, knowing the morning would be busy with doctorvisits, family coming to see their loved ones, breakfast coming around and helping certain patients go to the bathroom and get cleaned up. Yeah, she looked forward to the morning, but for right now she dreaded the long night ahead. 

Dr. Ruiz came up a little after two in the morning to let her know that Spencer was out of surgery and was recovering nicely. He’d been lucky, the bullet not hitting any major organs, but it had nicked his bladder so they were afraid of how his bladdercontrol would be. They wanted to keep him catheterized for a few days just to make sure everything was working properly. Apparently, he was also risking the development of internal bleeding and infections. Leah knew that, there was always a risk of that when it came to injuries like Spencer’s, but it rarely ever happened, not unless the bullet had nicked something or the surgery went wrong. But there was still a chance, so they always informed each other of it. She still knew that chances were slim so she wasn’t overly concerned about it. She was mostly happy he was going to be fine. 

Spencer was rolled into his own room at the ICU around 3:30 A.M. and Leah made it her personal business to check up on him. She finished the rest of her round rather quickly after that. Once she finished up the most important tasks she grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and some food from the cafeteria. For the next hour she hid out in Spencer’s room, figuring she’d deserved a nice, long break since she was going to pull a doubleshift. It was a quiet night anyway so she didn’t even feel remotely bad about it. 

He woke up a little before six in the morning, groaning softly from the bed beside her. Leah glanced over at him, giving him a moment to orient himself. She knew that her position was highly unprofessional; sitting a chair beside him with her feet propped up on his bed next to his. But she didn’t care. Her feet were aching and she loved being able to relieve the pressure for a little while. So, she played it cool, deciding it would be worse to drop her legs down in embarrassment. 

“Well, hey there, Stranger!” Leah decided to greet him with the biggest smile she could master. Spencer seemed to be more alert now and he had glanced everywhere imaginable; the door, her feet, the heartmonotor, the IV-bag, the ceiling. Still, his eyes wavered between her feet and her face. 

“You’re wearing mismatched socks,” he finally said. Leah couldn’t help but chuckle at that. That was probably the strangest thing anyone had ever said to her after coming out of surgery. 

“You know, we ruled out braintrauma pretty early on, but maybe we should still call neuro?” She teased. She could see a blush creep up his cheeks, taininting them in under half a second. His eyes roamed around again, finally locking in on the clock hanging above the door. 

“No, that won’t be necessary,” he told her bluntly and Leah felt like he probably wasn’t in jokingmood. “Where are my things? I need to call my boss,” he said trying to move up into a sitting position. Leah decided to just watch him struggle for a moment, finding it highly amusing even though she was still a little worried about him. He was probably still woozy from the anesthesia so sitting up appeared to be a struggle. Finally, Leah dropped her feet from his bed when he groaned out in pain. She walked over to him, putting both her hands on his shoulder and pushing him firmly back. 

“Don’t pull your stitches,” she told him. She took a seat in the chair again, grabbing the remote to bed and began to raise his back. He groaned out again when he was almost sitting, so she lowered the back a few notches again. “Don’t be a baby now,” she teased, but her voice was probably a little harsh. She couldn’t help it. She’d had a long day and she had been really worried about him. 

“I’m not a baby,” he whispered and Leah could see a pout on his lips. It only made her smirk. 

“You sure about that?” She asked, leaning over to snatch his file from the holder at the end of the bed. “You know what they say, right? About doctors being the worst patients?” She raised an eyebrow at him to give him the indication that she knew he was a doctor. It was in his file after all. 

“I’m not that kind of doctor,” he informed her and Leah just chuckled.

“Yeah, I figured that much out. I’ve been around enough real doctors, so trust me when I say you’re definitely not the type,” she laughed. “No offense, of course,” she decided to add as an afterthought. 

“None taken,” he replied, a little slurred. Leah looked over at him. “Can I call my boss now?” He asked and Leah sighed. 

“Spencer, look… they’re already here, your friends I mean-” He cut her off before she even had the chance to say anything else. 

“They’re not my friends. They’re my team.” His words surprised her. She hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to them yet, but she’d heard that they had all been really worried and constantly asked for updates on his condition. They seemed genuinely worried about his wellbeing. 

“And they can’t be your friends because they’re ‘your team’?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. 

“Are you friends with your coworkers?” Spencer asked back, and it should’ve been a witty comeback, but he actually sounded interested in knowing. 

“Can’t say that I am,” she said after pondering the thought for a second or so. “Touché, by the way. But my point is, just take a minute to wake up a little bit. I’ll go get them later so you can see them, okay? Just please… take a breather, alright? And I want the doctor to take a look at you first as well. Do you even remember what happened? You just woke up from surgery after getting shot. Let that sink in before I call them in.” 

“I’m fine,” Spencer insisted, but Leah just shot him a stern look. She stared him down for what felt like too long before he finally caved, leaning a little further back in his seat with a sigh. 

“Good,” Leah smiled. She took a moment to really study him for the first time. He was actually really handsome, with these greenish eyes which got more honeybrown towards the middle and shaggy brown hair which she suspected was always unkept. His nose was straight and his lips slightly plump, skin clean. He actually looked like a specimen. The only negative thing she could point out were the dark circles under his eyes and she felt her heartstring tug a little, wondering what nightmares kept him up at night. The nasal cannula going into his nostrils made him look even sicker than he probably was, but it was still a sight for poor eyes. 

“So, you’re… a nurse?” He asked after a few more moments of silence. Leah couldn’t help the bashful smile that stretched across her lips. 

“Well, isn’t that kind of obvious?” She laughed, adoring how cute he was when he got all awkward. She took a sip of her coffee and decided it was time to call for the doctor, so she reached over Spencer's head to press the green button on the wall. Spencer was giving her a strange look and she had no idea what that meant. “What?” She asked him, cocking an eyebrow. His intense stare was kind of making her uneasy, but there was no way she was going to show him that. 

“I just didn’t take you for the nursing-type,” he mumbled. “No offense,” he quickly added, just as she had done previously. But he looked almost terrified about it, as if he was actually afraid he’d insulted her. Leah could only laugh. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she assured him. “I wouldn’t exactly picture myself as the type either, but here we are. I’m damn good at my job, though.” As if on cue the door to the room opened and Sophie, a young girl who happened to be Leah’s intern, stepped through the door. She decided to have a little fun with that. “Ah! Dr. Reid, meet my intern. Sophie, this is Dr. Reid. You’re in charge of him when I’m not here. Got it?” Spencer gave her an uncertain glance and Sophie had a look of pure horror on her face. She locked eyes with Leah, the ‘Oh dear God, he’s a doctor’ kind of look written over her face. Sophie was a sweet girl, but kind of slouch, and Leah had a tendency to play small little tricks to get her to work just a little harder. Knowing that the patient was a doctor (she didn’t need to know he wasn’t a medical doctor) would definitely nudge her to go the extra mile. 

“You, um, you called?” Sophie asked a little uncertainly and Leah found herself pleased when she noted the not so subtle way she leaned over to take a pump of the handsanatizer hanging on the wall by the door. It had been one of the many things Leah had added to her list of improving areas; always sanitize your hands before entering and leaving a patient’s room. 

“Yeah,” Leah tried to hide her grin. “Who’s on call right now?” She asked, knowing she could just as well walk out the door and find out herself, but she loved torturing her interns just a little bit. She never crossed the line, but she always pushed them around just enough that they’d remember who was in charge. She loved it, a little innocent fun. 

“Uhm, well… There’s you, obviously… and, uh, me and-” Sophie started and Leah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. 

“Sophie, calm down. It’s fine. I mean doctors, who’s on call?” Leah smiled up at Sophie, trying to reassure her that she’d only been joking. Well, at least half-joking. That was another one of Sophie’s flaws; she was too uncertain of herself and could hardly handle a joke. 

“Oh, um. I’m not sure,” Sophie mumbled, but didn’t make any move to find out. Leah just stared at her until she lifted her eyes to glance back. 

“So?” Leah asked and Sophie looked even more confused at that. “Are you gonna find out for me?” That seemed to startle her because she almost jumped. 

“Oh, right! Yes, I’ll be right back.” She was out the door so fast Leah couldn’t help but laugh. She shook her head to herself and stood up from the chair, leaning closer to the heartmonitor and noting down Spencer’s vitals on his chart. 

“That was mean,” Spencer mumbled. Leah looked at him for a second, pausing her hand which was still writing. 

“It’s a bit of innocent fun. I’m their boss and you see that pager behind you,” she pointed her pen at the wall behind his head. She didn’t even wait for him to try to turn around to look at it before she continued. “It makes me their God,” she finished with a smug smile and gave him a wink. Spencer narrowed his eyes at her. 

“She’s your intern. You’re supposed to teach her, not scare her half to death.” He sounded almost angry, despite the uncertainty in his voice. Wow, this guy really couldn’t take a joke. Leah sighed. 

“Look, it’s a bit of innocent fun. We have a good relationship and we always have a little debriefing at the end of the day. She’d tell me if I was being too harsh on her,” she said. She finished the chart and put it down in the holder by the end of the bed. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed a little. “You probably think I’m too rough on her or whatever, and sure, I probably am. But here’s the thing, and I probably shouldn’t even tell you this, but she’s insecure. She needs to learn how to stand on her own two feet. She’s probably gonna lash out on me one of these days and I’m gonna be so proud of her the day she does. She’s a snowflake and she really needs to learn how to stand up for herself.” She decided it was best to just be honest with him. In all honesty she shouldn’t care what Spencer thought of her, but she did. She didn’t want him to think that she was some heartless bitch. She loved being a mentor and loved looking out for her interns. Sophie, despite all her flaws, was her favourite. Leah could see her potential, if she just worked past her insecurities she’d be a damn fine nurse one day. 

“So, you’re… bullying her to make her, what, stand up for herself?” Spencer asked, surprise lacing his voice, but he didn’t sound angry anymore. That was a good thing, she guessed. 

“I’m not bullying her. Just pushing her buttons a little. Call it reversed psychology or whatever. It always works.” Leah grabbed her zipup hoodie which she had draped over the chair and stuck her arms through. She shook the hood in place so it wasn’t one giant ball in the back of her neck. Spencer gave her a small smile and she wondered what he was thinking. She didn’t want to stay long enough to figure out though. “Okay, well… I’ll go see about that doctor. I’ll go get your friends in a while, so hang out and try to, I don’t know, relax I guess? Call if you need anything,” she told him, placing a gentle hand on his arm just because she could. Grabbing her coffeecup under her armpit she took a few pumps of handsanatizer on the way out. She made her way to the nursesation just as Sophie came practically running down the hall. 

“Jameson’s on call right now,” She said, almost sounding out of breath. Leah wondered if she had been running all over the Goddamned hospital to figure that out. 

“Okay, did you tell him to take a look at 104?” She asked and Sophie’s eyes went wide. Leah realized quickly what that meant. “No, no! Sophie, it’s okay. Seriously. I’ll go find him. Don’t worry about it,” Leah gave her a reassuring smile, reaching out to squeeze both her shoulders. “Did you finish your schedule yet?” She asked, knowing her interns had some kind of schedule, like a plan, they were supposed to follow.

“Uhm, well, I still have to take out the trash in 109 and I have some other small things I haven’t done yet, but-”

“Don’t worry about that,” Leah cut her off with a dismissive wave of her hand. She threw away her now empty papercup and hung her hoodie over the chair by the computer. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. Take a break or something, get some air, whatever.” Sophie seemed a little reluctant to the idea, but nodded her head acutely. 

“Would you, uhm, like me to bring you back some more coffee? Black right?” Sophie asked and Leah couldn’t help but grin at her. 

“Yes, please. Take your time, though.” With that Sophie took her leave and Leah went to find Dr. Jameson to let him know that Spencer was awake and needed a quick check. She then went back to the nursingstation to check what was next on her to-do list. She finished her round rather quickly, even with Sophie’s small list of things she’d neglected to do, or hadn’t gotten around to do or for whatever other reason just hadn’t done yet. It was just minor things, so she didn’t mind. Sophie seemed to have been doing alright with everything else. 

When she once again returned to the nursingstation there was a steaming papercup with her name on it, decorated with a simple smileyface. Leah smiled at that. She sat down by the computer and started documenting the most important details of the nightswatch so the morningshift would know what had gone down. Just as she was about to finish up, Sophie approached her, fidgeting a little. 

“Thanks for the coffee, Sophie,” Leah told her, hoping that would ease her nervousness a little. 

“Oh, no problem!” Sophie smiled. “Uhm, Jameson took a look at the good doctor in 104 and-” Leah had to cut her off with a chuckle. 

“That’s what we’re calling him now?” 

“Well… he hasn’t yelled at me yet for screwing up and he’s actually been kind of polite, so… I guess?” She sounded so uncertain again. 

“Well, what did you screw up?” Leah wasn’t mad. Everyone made mistakes, even her, and she just needed to know if it was a major blowup she had to document or if it was a small thing that could hardly be called a mistake. 

“Oh, nothing I think? I’m just really afraid of messing up,” Sophie told her, rather nonchalantly and Leah felt a little proud of her for not freaking out.  

“Okay, good. Look, Sophie… You don’t have to be afraid of messing up. Everyone messes up and I won’t get mad or anything, alright? You know I’m only teasing you, right? I don’t mean anything by it.” Leah always felt good about having these heart to heart talks with Sophie. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s just, uhm, I’m kinda awkward, I guess.” Leah laughed at that and Sophie gave a soft chuckle as well. Good thing for her that Spencer seemed twice as awkward as her. Maybe that would help boost her confidence. 

“Anyway, sorry I cut you off. What were you gonna say about the good doctor?” Leah really liked that nickname, it seemed to be suiting him. 

“Oh, yeah! Uhm, Jameson said that everything seemed to be alright, but wants to keep him here under observation at least until tomorrow just to make sure. And he’s still on antibiotics four times a day and we can amp up his painkillers, but he doesn’t want any morphine.” That last part didn’t surprise her whatsoever. “And he decided to switch off the oxygen for now, but to keep it on standby just in case his saturation decreases.” That wasn’t a surprise either. Most patients receive oxygen after surgery because the anesthesia could make them sluggish and their breathing labored. Once it wears off they’d be taken off oxygen as well. 

“Okay, that’s good,” Leah said, nodding along. “Anything else?” 

“Oh, yeah. He, uhm, wants to see his coworkers now and I told him he could only see two at a time, because that’s still the rule, right? He wanted to see Hotch and J.J. first. I guess you could get them?” Leah nodded her head and gave Sophie a pat on the back before returning to finish up her reports. It was around 6:45 A.M. when she headed out to the waiting area with her coffeecup in hand, recently refilled after she’d downed the one Sophie had brought her.

“Do I have a Hotch and J.J. for Spencer Reid?” Leah asked, scanning the waitingarea. She somehow knew the people she was looking for before they rose from their seats to come greet her. The whole group of, wow, six people practically came running for her. 

“Is he okay?” One of the women, dressed in a very colorful dress and an excessive amount of accessories asked, almost screaming out. She must have been very worried. Leah noted the flowers in her hand and grimaced at the thought of having to tell her later that flowers weren’t allowed in the ICU.

“He’s fine. He’s fully awake now,” Leah tried to reassure her. “He’s given me permission to share the specifics of his condition, so I can do that now, or you can wait for the doctorsvisit later today to get some more details. He’s just been checked out by a doctor now, though, and everything seems to be alright. He’ll probably stay in the ICU until tomorrow at least before we consider moving him.” She gave them the rest of what she knew and they seemed pleased that he was doing okay. So was Leah. Bulletwounds to the abdomen were typically gnarly cases, but Spencer had been really lucky. 

“Can we see him now?” The darkhaired woman asked, sounding just as worried as the other one had been just a minute ago. 

“Sure, but he’s in the ICU and we only allow two visitors at a time. We’ve asked and he wanted to see Hotch and J.J. first,” Leah told them, still having no idea who the respective ones were. 

“What, so I don’t get to see him?” The dark skinned man asked. He sounded angry, annoyed and frustrated, but Leah didn’t find him intimidating whatsoever, even despite the fact that he towered over her. 

“As I said, only two at a time. But he can have visitors all day for all I care, so you can take turns to see him, I don’t care how you do it. But only two at a time.” She tried to sound stern, but she also had sympathy for them. They’d been worried sick all night and they probably wanted to storm his room and hug him.

“Come on! That’s a bunch of bullshit!” The man yelled, obviously getting a little agitated. Leah wanted to step forward forward, put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down or something, but before she got the chance the tall man in the suit, yes a Goddamned suit, stepped forward. 

“Morgan,” He raised his hand in a stopmotion which immediately calmed the man down. “We’ll be quick. You’ll get to see him.” That seemed to do the trick because he sighed in defeat and stepped back. 

“Alright then, follow me!” Leah said and turned on her heel, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. She had other things to do, not really, but she could at least pretend she did. Standing in the waitingroom and arguing with friends and family of patients was not something she wanted to spend her whole day doing. 

“Wait, Sir. Can you bring him these for me?” Leah noticed that it was Flowerwoman who had spoken. 

“Actually, Ma’am… flowers are not allowed in the ICU either. I’m really sorry. If we move him to another unit tomorrow, you can bring him whatever you want, but as of right now I’m gonna have to say no,” she said, turning her body to give the woman an apologetic look. 

“Oh.” She sounded utterly wrecked as she uttered the simple word and it made Leah a little sad. These people cared so deeply for Spencer. How could he possibly claim they weren’t his friends?

She brought J.J,, a young woman a little taller than herself, and Hotch, the man who had calmed down the black man earlier, through the doors of the ICU. She quickly located Spencer’s room and knocked on the door a few times before entering. He seemed pleasantly surprised to see his colleagues following right behind her. 

“Oh, Spence!” J.J. exclaimed, rushing over to his bed. Leah rubbed some sanitizer on her hands as she watched her bend down to give him a gentle hug. She grabbed his chart from the end of his bed again and noted down his vitals as the three of them exchanged their greetings, also reading through what the doctor had written earlier. 

“Dr. Jameson was in here earlier. He explained that we’ve taken you off oxygen, right?” She hated to break up their happy reunion, but she had to give him some information before she bid her farewell. They all turned to look at her as she disposed of the chart again. “You understand that if you experience any shortness of breath, any dizzyness, anything at all you have to call, right?” She asked, looking directly at Spencer. 

“Well, I’m a doctor, so, of course I understand.” His response brought a smile onto her lips. 

“Well, you’re not that kind of doctor,” Leah laughed, throwing his previous words back at his face. “Do you need anything before I leave?” She asked and Spencer shook his head. “Well, if you do, don’t hesitate to call,” she told him seriously while pointing at the caller behind his head. She turned to leave when Spencer spoke up again. 

“Does, uhm, does that mean I’ll be your God?” Leah was stunned a little, not fully understanding what he meant, but then she remembered how she’d previously joked about being a God to her interns. Wow, her brain was working slowly. She needed more coffee. 

“Hey! Don’t push it now.” She tried to be stern, but her lips tugged upwards on their own accord. She then bid her goodbyes, shutting the door on the way out.

[gracegriller949]

Shining Devotion

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing: DinLuke, Luke Skywalker/Din Djarin

A/N: Read the full fic on Ao3 here

Chapter 5

By the time the three arrive back at the hut, Grogu is well into his nap, snuggled warmly in his new sling. The Mandalorian reaches his hands into the sling to carefully pull out his son.

Luke watches as they disappear into the hut. He walks the short distance to the beginnings of the new hut and is met with a familiar beeping that instantly makes him break out into a grin.

“Hey Artoo, I need your help.” Luke says as he lowers to one knee and puts one gloved hand on the top of the little Astro droid.

Artoo chitters and bounces in response.

“Yes, I know, I’ll finish it soon. Something’s come up. I need to comm my sister.”

Artoo lets out a few more beeps to signal that he has started the comm to Leia. Luke rises from his knee and stands with his hands pressed together, waiting for the holo to connect. He feels a figure come up behind him and stand next to him.

“What is this?” the Mandalorian grunts as he comes to stand next to Luke, his arms crossed over his chest plate.

Just then, a holo of Leia Organa appears in front of them.

“Luke!” she says. “I’ve been meaning to comm.”

“Me too, Leia. It’s good to see you.”

And it is. Even through the Holo, Leia is gorgeous. Her hair is in her usual braid, her clothes impeccable to the last stitch. There’s a glow about her that Luke can’t quite place. Leadership looks good on her.

Her eyebrows furrow.

“Luke, what are you doing with the ruler of Mand’alor?”

Luke is taken aback.

“You recognize him?”

“Of course, Luke. He’s one of the most powerful rulers in the galaxy.”

Luke glances over at the Mandalorian, still stoic, his stance unbothered.

“That’s why I called you,” he says.

“And here I thought you just wanted to drop in on your dear old sister. It’s always something.” Leia shakes her head, but she doesn’t look angry, just amused.

“Do you have news of what’s happening on Mandalore?” Mando cuts in, finally breaking his silence.

“I would think you would know more about that subject, Mand’alor. Why do you ask?”

“There’s been an uprising. I’ve been removed from the throne.”

Leia looks mildly shocked.

“This is the first I’ve heard of this, but I guess it shouldn’t be a surprise since Mandalore is a part of the Outer Rim and is not under New Republic jurisdiction.”

“And for good reason,” the Mandalorian says, his tone icy.

Leia bristles but keeps her composure.

“If you are no longer the Mand’alor than who is?” she asks.

“We were hoping that you could tell us.” Luke cuts in.

“Well, I’m sorry, I don’t have much information for you. As I said, the New Republic doesn’t have much pull on Mandalore. But I think I know someone who can help.” Leia says as she smiles knowingly.

“And who might that be?” asks Luke.

“Never mind that. I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Thank you, Leia.”

“May the Force be with you,” Leia responds, smiling gently at her brother.

“May the Force be with you,” Luke says as he smiles back at her.

Leia dips her chin to the Mandalorian, and he nods in return as the holo ends.

“Thanks, Artoo,” Luke says.

The droid chirps in return. Mando uncrosses his arms and looks down at the droid in front of them.

“And this is?” he asks.

“This is R2D2. This little droid and I have been through a lot together. Isn’t that right Artoo?”

Artoo beeps in affirmation then whirls around and returns to his place inside of the unfinished hut.

“I’m not big on droids,” the Mandalorian says.

“How could you not love Artoo? He grows on you, you’ll see.”

Mando scoffs through the Modulator and takes a step towards the unfinished hut. He inspects the intertwined vines and the messy foundation.

“Looks like this structure could use some work,” he says.

“It’s a work in progress,” Luke responds, examining the hut himself.

The Mandalorian finishes his inspection and walks over to the fire pit area in front of Luke’s home. Mando sits down on a log near the pit. He picks up his damaged rifle and starts to fiddle with it. Luke lingers by his project before sitting on another log across from the Mandalorian.

“I’m sorry you had to sleep out here, that couldn’t have been comfortable,” Luke says.

The Mandalorian shrugs and continues working on his rifle in silence.

“Once I get the new hut up and running, you can stay in it.”

Mando looks up.

“That’s okay Luke, I—”

“I want you to, Mando.”

“Thank you,” the Mandalorian says, hesitating before accepting the offer.

Luke nods, staring at Mando’s visor for a few beats before rising from the log and moving back towards the unfinished hut.

Closing his eyes, Luke concentrates on the foundation of the hut. He listens to the wind, the rustling of the leaves, the metallic clicking of Mando’s gun as he works on it a few meters away. Luke reaches out his hands and imagines the branches and vines of the hut building up towards the sky and interlocking together. He opens his eyes to watch as the vines twist together and up. Little leaves popping up all around it, littering the roof.

“How did you do that?” a voice says from behind him.

Luke whips around, startled.

“You know, not many people are able to sneak up on a Jedi.”

“I’m not most people,” says the Mandalorian.

Luke laughs. Mando doesn’t.

“It’s something new. I’ve been working on it for a little while. I don’t know what it is. All I know is that I can feel the flow of the Force through all living things, and with that, I can make things grow.”

Suddenly, Luke feels slightly faint. He stumbles a little and the Mandalorian shoots out a hand to steady him, gripping his arm. Mando walks Luke over to the log and sets him down in front of it with his back propped against it.

“Does this usually happen?” asks Mando.

“That’s the most I’ve done at once. I’ll be alright, just give me a few minutes.”

“Kind of like the kid?”

Luke feels a small smile dance on his lips.

“Just like the kid.”

-

After those first few days, time seems to go by leisurely.

They fall into a rhythm.

To Luke, it feels like everything has changed and yet still everything is the same. Him and Grogu train every day. They spend hours on their respective meditation stones, concentrating on furthering their powers. Luke takes him through a few physical exercises as well, but Grogu isn’t always as cooperative for those.

The main difference between then and now is that now, there’s fresh meat in the conservator when they get home. There’s a rifle propped against a log in front of a fire. There’s an extra crate pulled up to the rickety old dining table. There’s a Mandalorian walking out of the hut to greet them when they get home after a long day of training.

Mando sleeps in the new hut, a refuge for him to take off his helmet and relax. He spends most of his time hunting for food and scavenging for parts. So far, he’s only found a circular barrel that he cut in half and made a comfortable bed for Grogu. He himself, however, sleeps on the floor of his hut on an old piece of cloth and a waded-up shirt as a pillow. Luke has offered multiple times to find him something more comfortable, but the Mandalorian always refuses.

Grogu is as meddlesome as always, choosing to sleep either in Luke or Mando’s hut, depending on whose arms he finds himself in by the end of the day. He’s also taken to playing with Artoo. He will whip around and beep at Grogu as he chases the droid on his tiny little feet.

Artoo has found a new home in Luke’s hut, fitting snuggly between Luke’s bed and the conservator.

Luke comms Leia as often as possible.

She hasn’t had much word of what’s happening on Mandalore. Apparently, the whole planet has gone dark since its Mand’alor was forcefully removed. Leia assures Luke that her contact is going to pull through, but Luke doesn’t have the utmost confidence.

Sometimes the trio will take a break from the monotony of their newfound routine. These are Luke’s favorite days. He dons his makeshift sling, carefully sliding Grogu into it.

Since his outer shirt was ripped when he was stabbed with the glass, Luke has taken to wearing just a white undershirt and his black pants, opting for a more casual everyday look. It reminds him of his time on Tatooine, often an unwelcome reminder.

But Mando makes it worth it.

On their walks, the Mandalorian is decked out in as much armor and weapons as he can possibly get his hands on. Sometimes also carrying a bag of food in case the little one gets hungry during their miniature adventures.

As the days go by, Luke finds himself being able to read the Mandalorian’s body language more and more. He can tell that he’s uncomfortable by the stiffness of his shoulders. His happiness can be seen from the way he scratches Grogu’s head or when he’s sitting relaxed out by the fire. Luke also catches the way the Mandalorian looks in his direction sometimes, but Luke can’t always interpret what exactly this means. But most of all, Luke can see his frustration from the hours the Mandalorian spends looking for a way off the planet by the way he stomps ever so slightly and hangs his head heavily when sitting with Luke and Grogu.

Finally, on one walk, Luke takes them closer the remains of the Rebellion than he had dared to go to before. Most of the structures are dangerously unstable so Luke never had the courage to get them any closer. The walk is also a lot farther than any other that they’ve taken up to this point. Grogu always seems to get fussy before Luke can even get them there. But today, the tiny Jedi has decided to take his nap early, snoozing lightly in his sling.

The three stand in front if the pyramid-looking building, its vast walls scaling upwards towards the sky. There doesn’t seem to be any visible entrances from where they’re standing, but there are some fallen structures that lead up to a large hangar platform. The crumbling yellow brick is smattered with vines and leaves, making the whole structure look eerie and ancient in all its massiveness.

“This is all that remains of the Rebellion,” says Luke, scanning the outside of the pyramid.

“Why haven’t you shown me this before?” asks the Mandalorian, switching something on his helmet.

“I’ve already been through most of the building. The Rebellion cleared out all the valuables. There isn’t much to see. The only thing that I was able to get out of it was the conservator back at home. It took a lot of work to get it from here. The building is very unstable, so be careful.”

The Mandalorian takes a few cautious steps towards the pyramid, scanning it up and down.

“There doesn’t seem to be an entrance at this level. It’ll involve some climbing to get up to the hangar,” he says.

“I know a way in.”

Luke spots the place that he’s looking for and walks confidently towards the side of the building. He waves the Mandalorian over to his position. The overbrush is thick near the side of the building, concealing a well-hidden door from the average glance. Luke pulls the bushes and other plants to the side and approaches the metal door, inspecting the keypad on the wall next to it. He types in some numbers then waves the door open using the Force.

They step into a small, cramped chamber that has been packed with dirt, overgrown plants, fallen ceiling tiles, and low hanging wires. Being careful not to bump into anything, Luke leads them to another door that opens up into a larger control room. The control panels are covered in dust with many of the buttons missing and the monitors smashed. Luke hears a faint scurrying come from one of the corners of the room.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” says the Mandalorian.

“You sound like Han,” Luke remarks.

“Who?”

“Never mind.”

Luke strides over to one of the control panels and presses a few buttons. The lift in the back of the room lights up and starts its dull beeping.

“There is only one backup generator. I don’t know how much power it has so we need to be quick.”

The lift opens and Luke and Mando step inside. The lift opens again to a massive open room. The massive hangar opens to a beautiful view of the tops of the trees of Yavin-4. The planet looms overhead, the promise of darkness approaching soon. The hangar that was once filled with Rebellion ships from all across the galaxy, now stands quiet and vacant in the heat of the late afternoon. The metal floor is covered in debris, some empty crates strewn across it. There are vines growing on the walls and a few even on the ceilings soaring above.

The Mandalorian seems to take it all in carefully, once again adjusting the settings on his helmet. He walks slowly towards the gaping opening of the hangar, almost in awe.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it.” Luke says, coming up to stand next to him.

Mando turns to look at Luke then back to the view in front of them.

“It is.”

[enigma-im]

Sucker Punched

Rating: Mature Relationship: Alien X Female!Human Warning: Dirty talk, strong language, Alien/human relationship, mention of blood

Word Count:6163

         I punched an alien and now he wont stop following me around

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bustle around the office was gratuitous and migraine-inducing. Crowds were never my thing, to begin with, now the opinion is evermore justified. The undistinguished murmur wasn't as calming as the ocean sounds its similar to. It just made me tense and strive to leave as soon as possible. Sadly my wants didn’t matter to my responsibilities. I had papers to collect and people to see.

The ESA has been visited by the Tatze, a race of peaceful bipedal beetles. They come to talk about working with ESA to help some refugees have a place to be kept. According to the few reports I had a second to review, a planet on the verge of being near a soon to be supernova star needed to uproot. The planet wasn’t too large, but it held a good diversity of beings. It was a hospitable planet that hasn’t evolved into intelligent life, so it was taken as free real estate. I knew nothing else about the situation, I just knew I had a lot of work to do.

I'm in charge of running around like a chicken with its head cut off. In other words, I run paperwork around to get signed. Mainly to accept relocations and housing. There is ample room for a good portion of these refugees but that still meant a lot of paperwork. Most of the issues being assigning people for specific jobs. I had to get approval for supervisors to run the dorms. Get people to stock the dorm, needed translators available, and empaths to help evade future problems.

As much running around I have to do, I feel worse for the people processing each individual. That’s who took up most of the room in the office. The printer has to be going nonstop since we got info on the newcomers.

I shoved around the group, holding the folder of papers close to my chest. I quickly push to Becker's office, making it through the door. I slam it behind myself, caught my breath, then got straight to it.

I caught Becker's eyes as I walked to his desk. He was standing behind his chair and on the phone. His pose was tense, which was understandable.

"I need you to read over this and assign workers for the first three decks," I spoke quickly. I toss the first folder onto his desk.

He looks down at the papers with a glare," I don’t have time for that. Give it to Regina."

"Regina already assigned her workers, now it’s your turn," I slide the folder closer. He huffs and slams his hand onto the papers.

"Fine," He snaps, "No not you, do you have Kurtis down there?" He went from snappy to pleasant in a second. Knowing the conversation was over I turn and walk out the door.

I storm through the crowd, catching a few elbows to the ribs on the way out. I cut out the offices and into the not so quiet walkway. I speed down the hallway towards the elevator, just catching it as the door closes. I stop a few feet away, debating my options. These elevators take a year and a half to respond. Which balances out the pros and cons with the capacity of the cabin. I cut my losses and turn to the stairs, the floor I need wasn’t that far.

I rush down the stairs, feeling like a missed a few on the way down. As I cut the corner for the next bout of steps. My foot slides on a mysterious wet patch. My leg slid and I didn’t have time to correct. I reach for the railing, managing to catch myself but drop the papers in the process.

"Fuck," I snarl. I right myself and make quick work of lifting the papers. Some managed to soak up some of the floor fluids. "Fuck," I groan. I drop my head to my shoulder and allow myself a second of frustration. After the second I get back to work.

I round out the door, shoulder checking some alien on the way. Not bothering to look I continue onwards. I make it to the storage office. Heading directly to the front desk I set down the folders with unorganized and slightly damp papers. I look up at the human working the information desk.

"I need everything on this sheet sent to E17 and dealt with by Sabrina," I sort through the folders before handing the worker one.

"Well absolutely, it will be my pleasure," the worker smiles brightly. The smile was anything but infectious. If I had to choose some words they would be 'damn disgusting'. They look up at me and pout, "Aw, where's that smile?"

"At home," I sneer. I turn and bolt from the room. Damn people who work in storages have it so easy. Everything is sorted and mostly automated by bots. They don’t deal with this traffic. Their smile was like a slap, making me envious of their simple work.

The next hour goes in a rush, my folder pile dwindling. I'm damn near ready to break down with a childish tantrum. I'm tired and in need of some food. I want nothing more than to roll up in my little nook of blankets. Turn on some cheesy monster flicks and pass out near some microwaved dinner.

I had one more folder, it just needed to be given to processing so they know what room is meant for the newcomers. I walk from the surprisingly quiet hallway into a less surprisingly loud waiting room. Any other time the area is covered in chairs and generally, those chairs are empty. Now you can’t even see the chairs, the room was a sea of people. Lots of Aliens, mostly staying consistent with only a few types. Varying only slightly.

I slide around the room, hugging the walls. With humans, catching some elbows it fine. With aliens, that could mean a concussion. I reach the door I need, open it with some strife. I walk into a conjoined office. The room separated by a partition wall. Some human-looking aliens were sitting behind both desks. One had a visitor and the other, the one I need, is alone. Easy in and out.

I sneak around as to not disturb the large alien sitting with the desk worker. I get behind the partition and catch Ja'Leah's eye.

"Oh hey, Phoebe," She greets as she hangs up the phone," What do I owe the pleasure?"

I walk over and set the folder down," Last one of the days. Housing, enjoy." I let go with a flourish.

"last one of the day? You must be ecstatic," She half-smiles. Ja'Leah grabs the folder and thumbs through it.

"Yes, I’m going to pass the fuck out," I sigh at the thought.

She looks up for a second," Day that bad?"

I give her a warning look," It been awful. I'm five seconds away from a breakdown."

"Sounds bad, great to look forward to. My day just started," She laughs.

"Girl, I mean this from the bottom of my heart. Good luck," I chuckle. I hear a thump from behind the wall.

"I’m going to need all the luck I need. What's that saying you have about luck," she asks. I cock my head behind the wall but ignore the noise as she asks.

"Tons of saying. Kiss for luck, luck of the Irish, um beginner's luck," I ramble.

"No, not those," she ponders," oh well, I won’t keep you." with a wave I turn to walk out.

As I pass into the other office I’m blocked by the large alien. He is snarling something out at the poor worker. As rude as it was, I didn’t care. I need to get home before I snap.

"Excuse me," I push lightly against their arm. He has a threatening protrusion from his elbow. It is attached to the padding on his forearm. I give it a wide breadth.

He turns and snarls at me, then back to snarling at the poor man. I try to sneak around again but their arm swings out, blocking the way.

"Hey, move," I snap. Reaching my final nerve. The man growls. When I press softly against his arm to move, he turns towards me fully. He crouches down so we are facing level and lets out a ground-shaking roar. His hands are posed claws out near his bent knees. I tense up and scrunch away from the air escaping his mouth. Once he is done, I turn and glare at him. Then before he could say a word, I deck him the nose.

I knew as I lifted my arm it was a bad idea. It was impulsive and without my command. His head barely moves but his jaw did shut. His hands drop as did his shoulders. Dark fluid began to drip from his nose, dripping onto the hard floor. He looks bewildered, which was impressive given his permanent scowl caused by his lowered brow. I could feel the silence in the room along with the pulsing of my knuckles. Man has a sturdy face, or I have weak bones.

Nobody said anything as he straightens. He presses his fingers to his nose, collecting the blood. He glances down at it, raising an eyebrow before looking back at me.

I lean back; afraid he is going to lash out. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes to mind. I quickly close it and point to the door. Then as fast as I could, I walk out. Leaving everyone to the tense silence.

Oh god, I'm going to be fired.

<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>

The day ended in constant fits of anxiety. Every task was done in a mundane fashion, almost like I was in autopilot. My mind went a mile a minute. Thinking about every outcome of my boneheaded impulsion. If anyone in that room said something to my boss, I was surely doomed. This job is all I have, and I love it. Not everyone can get this kind of job, it took months of screening just to be considered. Government jobs are hard enough to get planetside but to be carted off into space to do it is almost impossible.

I walk into my office the next day, tense for the soon to be lecture and inevitable departure. Trying to be a goody-two-shoes I went straight to work. Perhaps if I seem valuable that I’d just get a warning. I found some work that needed to be handed to my supervisor. I looked it over then promptly avoid it as long as I could. Feeling the minute I let them acknowledge me I was in for trouble.

After I procrastinate as much as I could I drop my shoulders. Looking at the stapled pieces of paper.

"Guess there is no avoiding that," I huff. With a quick breath of bravery, I grab the stack and march to their office. Perhaps if I treat it like a band-aid it will somehow be less devastating.

I knock on their door, then enter when I hear their invitation.

"Phoebe, watcha need," Tyler asks. He is surrounded by stacks of folders and binders. I do not envy his job. Mine may be an over-glorified delivery person but he was the one who had to approve everything. No thank you.

"I, uh, this is for you," I lost some of my courage. He reaches out his hand ready to take my offering. I quickly hand it to him. Standing there patiently for the tongue lashing.

Yet nothing happens. He thumbs through the sheets then looks up at me with a curt smile and nod.

"Need something else," he asks.

"Uh, no I guess," I smile confused. Then I turn and walk out of the room. Closing the door behind me.

Does he not know? Did no one say anything? Why wouldn’t the large alien I sucker-punched not report me? I made the man bleed for crying out loud!

I sigh as I lean against the wall. If they didn’t say anything I won’t. I'm not going to throw myself under the bus if not necessary.

<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>

I continue with work like normal, not letting myself think about possible outcomes or reasons they didn’t say anything. It would be a dark hole to fall into. I'll worry about it later.

Today is less crazy. The offices aren't cramped, and the copy room is empty. A nice calm after the storm but I’m sure housing is losing their minds.

I hear the shuffling of people outside my door. I look up and see small groups of people leaving, looking at the clock I notice its lunchtime. Glancing at my work I figure it be a good time for a break.

Saving my work on the computer then organizing my paper, I leave. I check my pocket as I stroll to the hallways, making sure I have my money on me. The lunch here isn't expensive or good but you can’t expect the money to go to fancier things. Some alien vendors here serve some savory smelling food, making me wish I dared to eat it. The human food general stayed bland, except on Fridays. They have special meals on those days, but it was as flavorful as boxed dinners.

I enter the cafeteria and order a simple ham sandwich. I just need nutrients, so I don’t get woozy while working. Figure I don’t need to enjoy my meal. Not that I would anyway.

I grab a random table towards the back of the room. Wanting mostly to be alone today. I have friends, some being in the room, but I'm just emotionally exhausted. I’ll just think for a while. Reflect on the event of today and future work I should finish before days end.

As I stare down at my phone, I hear a chair screech in front of me. I glance up and find someone sitting across from me. Realization strikes me when I look at their face.

"Uh," I drop my hand to the table, setting my phone down. I lean back in the chair and stare at the alien who is now lacking blood from their nose.

He sits relaxed against the chair that seems comically small to his herculean stature. His torso was bare save for a dark green sash. It seems to hold some tools, serving an actual function besides cosmetics. He looks like he is wearing pants, but I can’t tell from the table. Either way, he was large and in charge. Horns that blend away from platting on the side of his head strikes me immediately when I look at his face. His dark hair was shaved into a faux hawk. Despite it being fluffy and soft looking, it did not take away from his intimidating physique. He was scary, but he sat like he wasn’t about to kill me. Which I guess is a start.

"Hey, I'm sorry about yesterday. It was uncalled for me to hit you like that," I began to apologize. He stares at me with a blank face. Seeming like he isn’t getting my words. He opens his mouth and lets out some grumbles and growls. "I did not get any of that," I stare back. Is he trying to talk?

He growls some more but when he notices I’m staring just as blankly as he was, he stops. Leaning forward onto his forearms he points to his mouth and ear. I shake my head, so he repeats. Still not getting it he sneers then holds out his hand. Motioning for me to come closer. I shake my head, not wanting him to be near my head with his clawed fingers.

He drops his hand to the table with a loud thud, giving a frustrated look. Thinking for a second before he turns his head and points at the small box behind his ear. It is a translation battery. The little computer is generally implanted behind the ear, leaving the battery exposed for easy access. We may be in the future, but no one has figured out how to keep the damned thing charged.

"Is it broke," I ask forgetting he can’t understand me. So I point at his ear then mime breaking a twig. He shakes his head. Alright, not broke. I ponder for a moment. What else could stop him from understanding? Mine isn’t broke so I should understand him. Unless his language isn’t common therefore not input into the system. I look up at him to explain my guess but remember he can’t comprehend me. How do I mime that?

I simply nod. Hoping he figures I know what he is trying to say. He nods back, leaning back into the chair. Ok, now what? He crosses his arm and looks me over, growling out some words.

"You have a weird language," I mumble to myself. He speaks some more, probably getting a little liberty as saying whatever he wants. Probably cursing me, I can’t imagine I'm his favorite person right now. I shrug and lift my phone back up.

As I swipe through my social feed, I hear him growl some more. Then growl a little louder, gaining my attention. I shift my phone aside and look at him. He points to my phone. I twist it to ask if this is what he means. He shakes his head then gestures to his hand then points at mine.

"Oh, my hand," I say mostly for my benefit. I set my phone down and look at my very bruised knuckles. For as hard as I hit him, I’m surprised I don’t have any cuts from the skin splitting. The last two knuckles were still swollen as the first two are just bruised. Guess I have a crooked punch. Not that I’ve ever really punched someone before, don’t exactly have a technique.

He reaches out and snatches my hand. I wince as his thumb presses on the several bruises. His hold loosens as he peeks up at me. He grimaces for a second, like an apology. I nod. He looks back down at my knuckles, softly tracing the bone with his thumb. He smiles and huffs before bringing his head down. He pecks at each knuckle, shocking me completely. I jerk my hand away, cradling it against my chest

"Hey, what the fuck are you doing," I snap. He leans back in his chair with a smirk. Showing off his canines that sit on either end of that smile. He crosses his arms and laughs when I glare at him. Is he making fun of me? I can’t even begin to comprehend what is happening. I also cannot deny the blush streaking across my cheeks. Being too caught up in my unease I don’t notice him reaching across the table. Using his forefinger and thumb he grabs my chin. Turning my head to face him, he smirks. Growling out something I couldn’t comprehend. Seeing how flustered I am he laughs again. Dropping his hold he leans back again.

"If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are flirting with me," I mumble. It was meant as a joke, but it came out worried. I’m not someone who has to learn about different alien cultures, just some 'learn this to not offend' kind of stuff. Flirting, or courting as some people call it, isn’t something I learned. Perhaps this was a challenge, fight me for hitting him. It didn’t seem right. id imagine a threat comes out more, well, threateningly. Don’t see warriors kissing people's hands.

He sat with me in silence for the rest of the meal. Which I won’t lie, I kinda rushed my lunch. I pack up my trash and with a nod, I leave. His eyes follow me the entire time, all the way to the door.

<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>

The next week he continues showing up at lunch, flirting more. At least I assume its flirting. He is very touchy and loves growling at me knowing I can’t understand. I see him a few times in the hallways, following me to my office before he leaves me alone. It’s a rinse and repeat week for him. If I’m late I catch him outside the offices in the hallway.

I try to push him from my mind for the rest of my workday. Throwing the memory from my head as I indulge my workload. I actually got a lot of work done, perhaps I will have an early day as well. Completely invested I don’t hear the door open. But I do hear a chair scrape across the floor.

Looking up I see the buff alien. I push against my desk, flattening myself to the chair. He grabbed a chair and slid it beside my desk. Where he then plants himself down. I watch completely caught off guard and confused. Once he makes himself comfortable, he looks over at me. Looking me over he cocks an eyebrow. He has never entered my office before.

"Hi," I quirk an eyebrow as well. He waves before crossing his arms. Sitting there casually, leaving me the only one freaking out. Why the fuck is he in here?

I look around the room then back to him. He abandoned looking at me and is investigating my desk. Touching a few paperweights and desk toys. Regarding the few pictures, I have framed. I watch him as I sit in shock, if not confused.

Realizing I’m staring he looks over. He waves again a little confused. I glare at him then point at the door.

"Get out," I snap. He looks at the door then back at me. He shakes his head. I stand and point again. He also repeats his actions. He points at himself then the chair. I stretch my arms out," Why are you here!"

He stares blankly but amused. God, he is infuriating. I might just punch him again.

"We are getting your fucking translator fixed," I growl as I storm out the office. I can hear the chair screech and can only figure he is following me. As I march through the room, I see some people giving curious glances. I ignore them as I make my way to tech support.

<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>

I parade into the room, slamming the door against the wall in the process. The few techies in the room snap their heads up at my outburst. Their faces go a little more fearful when they see my unwanted companion.

"I have a favor," I snarl. My venomous streak should be a little worrying. It has just been a stressful week, I need the weekend.

One of the techies jump up and walk over," Y-yes, how may I help you?". He was an extremely thin and mousy looking man.

I grab the big buff boy behind me and drag him forward," His language isn't translating." to emphasize my point the alien growls out a few words. The slim man looks up at him and nods.

"Alright, um, sit over here," he fidgets his hands as he walks back to his desk. We follow and I point to the chair for Hercules to sit. He does as he is commanded but does so with an annoying smirk. Damn annoying cute smirk.

The mousy man spits out some growls to my surprise. It seems it’s also to the large man's surprise too. He tilts his head and growls back. They talk back and forth.

"You can understand him," I ask. They both turn to me, the slim man nods.

"Yes, his language is old, but I learned it during my learning years," he answers, "it's uncommon and needs time to be added to the system so it can be understood."

I grab on to the back of the large man's chair, "Then can you do me another favor and ask him why he has been following me around?"

He nods and grumbles out some words to the man. As the slim one turns to tell me the large one grabs his arm stopping him. They talk some more before the slender one finally speaks to me.

"He doesn’t want me to tell you," he answers. I glare down at him then at the large one.

"Ask him for his name then," I sneer. It takes a second for the techie to realize I’m talking to him. The large one turns to me with that damned smirk. He answers the techie.

"His name is Ker'chak, or Kurt for short," he answers. I glare down at Kurt. Keeping my gaze he reaches for my hand and brings it up to his lips. Once his lip meets my knuckles, I drag my hand away. Letting go of his chair and stepping back. He snickers then turn back to the slim man. They converse and I see the techie blush. Once again, I assume so. I’m not educated in alien emotions.

"What did he say," I ask folding my arms. The slender man looks up at me then back at Kurt.

"Uh, I rather not repeat it," he hesitates. I raise my eyebrow then look over at Kurt who is still smiling. He even winks at me. How universal is that?

"So he is flirting with me," I ask. The techie nods as he hides his face in his palm. "Ask him what do I have to do to get him to leave me alone," I cock my hip. He does as he is asked. Kurt growls, sneering at the mousy man. Then he shoots up and stalks towards me. I snap back in shock and step backward. Feeling distressed at his demeanor change.

I back up till I hit a wall, wincing as my head bangs off it. Kurt doesn’t stop till he reaches his hand over my head to the wall. His chest presses against mine. I raise my hand and push against him. My other hands staying flush against the cold wall. He grabs my fist on his chest and holds it still. Even thumbing the skin of my wrist. He growls, sounding more like a purr. His head dips so his nose brushes against my temple. He rumbles out some words.

Across the room the techies chirps up to translate," uh, he says he won’t be leaving you. Not till he can explain himself. No moment sooner." Kurt growls some more, "I'm not repeating that," the slim man calls out. Kurt chuckles as he noses my hairline. My heart beating a mile a minute and my stomach fluttering. My eyes couldn’t stop flickering as I fought against closing them. They finally won out as he kisses my temple, I sigh. I couldn’t stop myself from nuzzling back against him. Kurt chuckles as he brings my hand up to kiss.

Getting perhaps a little too caught up in the situation I barely hear the awkward coughing of the other people in the room. My eyes snap open, horridly embarrass at being seen in such an intimate situation. I rip my hand from his hold and push both hands against his chest. Raising his own hands in surrender he backs up. Laughing as he does so.

Kurt growls some more, "He is such a raunchy man," the translator said behind him. Kurt gives me a once over with a satisfied smile. He then drops his hands when he is a reasonable distance away. Turning around and sitting back in the chair. He speaks to the slim man some then look at me expectantly.

"He hopes that made it clear what his intention may be," the slender man sighs. I feel a little bad for the man, I came here for pure intention. Well mostly pure, I just wanted the lug gone. Now I'm not a hundred percent as before. God, I'm so deprived.

"I’d have to say it does," I huff. Looking down at his pants there was a slight tent. I guess that does explain his intentions.

<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>

The techie explained that getting his language into the system would take some time. Also that his translator needed to be updated. Which is good that is has been worked on since he first got here apparently. So it’s any day now when it will be done. I knew his translator was returned and just needed to wait for the update to be sent to it so he can understand everyone around him.

I did everything in my power to avoid him. His constant nearness has begun to break down my defenses. The day in the tech support was like he took a sledgehammer to my walls. I didn’t like the fluttering in my stomach at seeing him at lunch the next day. One day when I stood to get ready to go to lunch, I thought better of it. I just need some space.

It was no surprise that he didn’t care about my avoidance. When I didn’t show up for lunch, he would just come to the office and sit. After the first two times, he started bringing food with him for both of us. Just stuff to snack on, a lot of fruits or wrapped bars. It was kind of him, but it just made me more constricted. I don’t want him around, that lie tasted bitter after the second week.

As we both sat at my desk, him trying everything in his power to be distracting, I try to work. He has taken to touching me as much as possible. Like now, he is tracing the seams on my jeans. It was distracting around my shins but easily discarded. But when he got around my knees and thighs I jumped. That was like jump-starting a car because he did everything he could to make me jump after that. Right now he was tracing behind my knee, smirking up at me as I stare daggers into the computer. I’ve gotten better at acting like I don’t care. He has also stepped up his game.

Not getting the reaction he wants he grabs behind my knee and twists me to face him. I lift my hands, so I don’t sweep my keyboard off the table. Then I glare down at him.

"May I help you," I ask. He still can’t understand me, but he has gotten better at discerning the tone. Kurt smiles before he grabs my other leg and jerks me forward. I was airborne for a terrifying second before I land on his lap. Straddling him and clenching his shoulders. He growls out something then purrs as he noses at my hairline. Running his hands up the back of my thighs. Before he could grope my ass, I grab one of his hands.

"No," I slide his hands down. He pouts out the corner of my eye but goes back to smiling. He kisses behind my ear and massages my thighs. I bite into my cheek to stop the sigh that wants to escape. Having picked up on the nuances of my tone he also figured out that my little sighs were a good sign. Despite my best attempts when he nibbled on my ear, I let out a sigh. Even a small moan. This man is both infuriating and arousing.

"God, I can smell your cunt," he growls. I tense.

"What," I ask as I push back. He too tenses staring at me wide-eyed.

"Uh," he starts.

"You are vulgar," I huff with a start of a smile.

"Then don’t smell so damn good," he laughs. I squirm out of his hold to get on my feet, but he holds strong, "Where you going?"

I manage to get out of his hold and sit back in my seat, "We are going to have a nice long talk."

He huffs, "I’d rather be doing something else." I give him a once over.

"Yea, I didn’t notice," I quirk a brow. He laughs as he sits back and crosses his arms.

"Well, beautiful, it seems the translator now works. Ask away," he flourishes hand. I straighten my shirt as I get comfortable. I lean against the arm of the chair as I give him another once over.

"Why are you following me around," I start.

He tilts his head, "I feel I've answered that one."

"Not really," I respond, "I punch you in the face and suddenly you are around constantly."

He chuckles as he absentmindedly rubs his nose, "Quite the punch it was too. It was a little crooked so goddess only knows how much harder you could have hit if it was proper." He groans at the memory, running his hand over his thigh.

I look him over, "Did that turn you on?"

He snaps his head straight," Of course. Love me a woman who can put me in my place," he groans again.

"Perv," I hiss as I look away. Staring at the wall, calming my nerves a bit.

"I just know what I like, and you are it," he smiles. He reaches over and pulls my chair closer, so my knee is between his.

I glance at him from the corner of my eye, "So you just want to get into my pants?"

His hands grab my knees, "Your pants, your bed, your heart. I want to be in all of them."

I turn fully towards him, "you want to date?"

"To the divines, yes," He moans. His hands go further up my thighs, thumbing the seam. I stop him when he gets too close to my crotch.

"We are talking, stop distracting me," I reprimand. He looks from his hands to me.

"So it is distracting," he cocks an eyebrow. I glare down at him, not wanting to give up my interest yet.

"Why follow me around, I showed my disinterest very early on," I change the subject back.

"I don’t believe that was fair, I didn’t get a chance to woo you with my words," he answers," even though I believe I'm doing a great job with my body in its stead."

"Cocky aren't you," I ask as I slide his hands away.

"Damn straight, I'm a very worthy male and you are a very, deliciously strong, worthy female," he lays it on thick. He stands and presses his hands to the top of the chair. Framing my head between his powerful arms. He leans down, leaving a small space between us. "I want you, that has been very clear. Which makes me the only one being very clear. So to be completely transparent I offer this. If you want me, even a little, kiss me. If you don’t then I will walk out that door and leave you alone," he proposes.

I stare up at him, quick glances at his lips. My mind is completely blank, not offering me any words of wisdom right now. He lays it all out, it’s my choice now. If I want him to leave, he will go, be out of my hair. That thought was bitter like all the lies I told myself all week.

Fuck it.

I jump up, wrapping my arms around his neck. I press my lips to his, forceful and telling. He sucks in a breath in shock before wrapping his arms around my back. Lifting me out of the chair and holding me against his chest. Tilting his head, our nose brushing against each other, he sucks on my lip. Giving it his all; his joy, his wants, his desires.

He wraps my legs around his waist, resting his hands on my rear. He parts and gives me a warm smile. Gropes my ass and cocks his eyebrow. I chuckle at his questioning look.

"No, you are taking me out on a date and wooing me properly," I scold as I pet his hair. It is as soft and fluffy as it looks.

He pouts, " not even some hand stuff?"

"No, not in my office," I pull his horn. Tilting his head to the side and kissing him. He groans into my mouth, his hands massaging my cheeks.

He pulls back, " Then let’s go to your room, problem fixed. I've been tortured by your arousal all week. The most divine of torture but it must be remedied soon." I jerk his head back, exposing his neck.

"And you have been driving me crazy all month, live with it big boy," I kiss his neck. He hisses, baring his teeth to the ceiling.

"Goddess, you are pure torment, my sexy female," he growls. He tries to drop his head, but I jerk it back. I bite down hard onto his taunt neck tendon.

"Good, you deserve it," I laugh. I sit up straight and catch his eye, "Dinner at my place tonight."

He nods, "then sex?"

"Woo me with those words you promise and maybe," I smirk.

"I look forward to it," He grins.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Might make another part, might not. either way check out my archive. Follow for more stories, i have way too much free time with my new job.

[katymacsupernatural]

When Push Comes to Shove

Dean Winchester x Reader

3600 Words

Written For @amanda-teaches and her 2K Reader and Writer Challenge.

My prompt: “I saw you staring at each other, I just wasn’t sure if it was sexual tension or murderous rage.”

Summary: A bad fight years ago between Y/N and Dean had her running off. Now, five years later, they need her help. But when she arrives, all things left unsaid are brought out into the open.

Warnings: Lots of angst, mentions Dean with the mark, other warnings in the tags because of spoilers. 

When you had first received the phone call, you immediately hung up, your heart racing as memories from five years ago came crashing through the wall you had so carefully erected.

“No, I can’t,” you whispered, staring down at the phone laying on your bed as if it had bitten you. And truthfully, it had.

It started ringing again, Sam’s name flashing on the phone, and while you wanted to toss it into the nearest trash can, you knew he would only call in an emergency.

“Hi Sam,” you whispered, your voice shakier than you realized.

His voice crackled through the phone, the connection not the greatest. “Y/N, it’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” you agreed. You had missed him. You had once considered him your closest friend. But after your disaster with his brother, well….

“Listen, I’d love to catch up, but we have quite the problem going on here,” he yelled through the phone. You could hear gunfire and yelling in the background, immediately putting your rusty hunter senses on high alert. “How fast can you get to Indiana?”

“That’s five or so hours away,” you measured in your head. “But Sam, I haven’t gone on a hunt in..well...since you know.”

Sam forgot about the phone call for a moment as he yelled in the background, the gunfire even closer. “Listen, I wouldn’t have called you if this wasn’t an all hands on deck kinda deal. So please. Get your guns and get your ass over here. Pronto.”

He hung up, and you stared down at the phone in dismay. “Hey honey, is everything okay?” Tyler called from the doorway, and you glanced up at your boyfriend, hoping your poker face was in place. “Is everything okay? Who were you talking to?”

“Just an old friend,” you answered, knowing that Tyler wouldn’t be able to handle any aspect of your old life. “Wanted to do a little get together tomorrow.”

Tyler strode forward, pulling you into his arms. It was comforting and safe, but nowhere near as exciting as...you refused to even think it. “Honey, I think you should go!” He exclaimed. “After all, I’m heading down to Vegas for the weekend with the boys. I was worried about you being here all alone, and now I won’t have to worry.”

He pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek before taking his duffle bag from the floor. “Let me know when you get there. K?”

You nodded, watching silently as he left the room, knowing that while your heart wanted you to stay here, where it was safe, you couldn’t leave Sam in Danger. Or Dean.

Even thinking his name was enough to send a pain straight through your heart, and you wondered how you would ever get through the next few days.

Everything was as you had left it. Gathering a fine layer of dust, but the guns were still in good shape. Your ammo was a little low, but that could easily be fixed. You took the entire toolbox, the heavy weight welcome in your arms as you pushed it into the back of your classic old pickup. “Ready to ride again girl?” You asked the classic 1970 Ford, patting her tailgate fondly. You had painstakingly fixed her back up until she looked and ran better than ever before. Tyler had thought it odd but had never said anything.

With one last glance back at your normal life, you climbed into your truck, pulling out of the driveway and turning it to the highway that led straight to your past.

With the radio quietly playing country music, you thought back to the last time you had seen Sam and Dean. It had been horrible, parting with anger and frustration. Tears had filled your vision as you had driven away, not only from the man that still held your heart, but away from the only life you had ever known.

But you had been given no choice. Dean had taken your heart, ripped it in shreds, without even realizing he was doing it. Later you had heard it was the Mark that had caused it, but you had been too scared to turn back.

You noticed the black Impala immediately as you pulled into the only hotel in the tiny town. It was dusty, but otherwise just exactly as you had remembered it. All the times spent in the passenger seat, listening as Dean sang along to the music. The other times in the backseat with his body covering yours.

The thoughts swirling through your mind were quickly becoming melancholy, and you forced them away, parking beside the car. “It’s just a car,” you whispered to yourself, but you still wondered how many women Dean had laid down in that back seat since you’ve been gone.

“Y/N!” Sam exclaimed as he pushed open the door to room 112. “I’m so glad you decided to come.”

“Didn’t seem like I had much of a choice,” you muttered. “But you look okay.”

“Barely made it out of there,” he muttered. “And tomorrow we try again.”

He took your duffel bag, tossing it over his shoulder. “It’s a mess in there. Demons everywhere. They ambushed us, and we almost...if it wasn’t for Cas.”

He shook his head. “But we can talk business later. I already booked you a room. It’s right next to ours. Hope that’s okay.”

You placed your hand on his arm, stopping him. “Sam, does..does he know that I’m here?”

He sighed. “Yeah, he does. I figured I’d give you two some privacy later if you want it.”

You weren’t sure if that’s what you wanted. Sure, it would help to clear the air, but you weren’t exactly ready for a confrontation. “Sam, I..,”

“Sam! Get in here!” Dean’s voice yelled through the thin walls, and you shuddered back slightly in fear, all sorts of emotions rocking your system.

“Y/N, that was years ago,” Sam offered. “He’s changed. Just give him a chance.”

He gave you his goofy, sideways smile, not realizing that you had already moved on. At least your head had, even if your heart hadn’t. Sam took your hand, pulling you into the room where Dean was sitting at the table, his head lowered as he glared at the laptop in front of him.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him. His hair was wet and unstyled, slightly longer than you remembered. His shoulders were just as wide as you remembered, encased in a simple maroon flannel. A black t-shirt stretched across his chest, his strong thighs encased in roughed up denim. He looked good, even with the nasty gash above his eye. “Hey Dean,” you spoke softly, wincing as he glared up at you.

“Sam said he called you,” his voice rolled, even deeper than you remembered. But still cold. Oh so cold. And it hurt. “You didn’t need to come.”

“Dean, we talked about this,” Sam sighed. “Those Demons have us outnumbered. At least this way we have a fighting chance.”

Dean closed the laptop sharply. “A fighting chance? One more person against all those Demons? How is that going to help?”

“I can go,” you offered.

He ran his fingers through his hair, completely agitated.  “No. Don’t go. I’m just...we do need your help.”

You sat down across from him, offering him a small smile even though you were shaking inside. Sam took that opportunity to sneak out the door, yelling over his shoulder that he was going for dinner. “Guess it’s just you and I,” Dean mumbled.

Sitting there quietly, you stared at Dean who seemed to look anywhere but at you. And while you didn’t want to do it, you knew the air needed to be cleaned before you finished off the hunt. “Listen, Dean, we need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what? There’s nothing to talk about!” He exclaimed, pushing back from the table, pacing the small hotel room. “I was an Ass, you left like you should have. You’re here to kill some Demons, that’s it.”

“That’s not it,” you answered softly, just the memory of it enough to bring tears to your eyes. “Dean, if we don’t talk about it, then…,”

Dean sighed, tucking his hands in his jeans. “Y/N, I wanted to call you. Every day, for over a year, I typed in your number but hung up because I was too chicken. How could I call you and expect you to understand? To forgive me?”

“I wish you had,” you whispered. “After I left, I was so lost, so heartbroken. I wanted to turn around, head back, but I thought everything was too broken. I was too broken.”

“Damn it Y/N, I never meant to hurt you. You should know that. I hate to blame it on the Mark, but it changed me. In ways I never imagined.”

“Dean, it wasn’t just me,” you finally admitted. You had never spoken the words out loud. Never told anyone. You had taken the loss and buried it deep inside.

“What do you mean?” He asked, stopping in front of you.

“When we had that argument, I don’t know how much you remember.”

“I remember every little moment of that day. They haunt me in my nightmares. Every word, every time my hand connected with your skin. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget that.”

Your mouth opened, the words ready to be heard for the first time, but Sam burst through the door, the forgotten dinner bags squished in his hands. He froze, glancing between you and Dean.

“What?” Dean growled, annoyed that your intimate conversation had been interrupted.

“I saw you staring at each other, I just wasn’t sure if it was sexual tension or murderous rage,” Sam muttered. And if you hadn’t just been ready to bare your soul, you would have laughed.

“Neither, Sam,” you assured him, but the moment between you and Dean was gone. Maybe forever.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’ve got to move. Now!” He exclaimed, tossing the food on the table. “The Demons are getting ready to move.”

“Damn it,” Dean grumbled. “Let’s go.”

Sam filled you in as you climbed into the backseat of the Impala. “Missed you girl,” you whispered, patting her leather seats fondly. Dean glanced at you through the rearview mirror, his expression full of regret. “So these Demons have Jack.”

“Who’s Jack?” You asked, hearing the fondness as Sam said his name. Making you realize how much you’ve missed these last few years.

Sam tried to smile, but it faltered. “He’s like a son to us. But in reality, he’s the son of Lucifer.”

“What?” The word came out louder than you wanted, but what Sam had just said, it shocked you more than you cared to admit.

“I know what it sounds like,” Sam spoke quickly. “But he’s nothing like his Dad. Cas is more like his Dad than anyone. We’ve known him since the day he was born, and he’s a good kid. Needs guidance, but he’s...uh..he’s getting there.”

“So how old is he?” You asked as Dean rounded the corner, parking in a dark alley.

“Typical human age doesn’t work for Jack,” Cas said as he appeared on the seat beside you. “Y/N, it’s good to see you again.”

“Cas!” You threw your arms around his shoulders, giving the Angel a tight hug. He returned it awkwardly, before turning his attention to Sam and Dean. “I’ve been surveying the place. With Y/N’s help, we should be able to infiltrate in and save Jack.”

“What’s the plan Cas?” Dean asked as you all climbed out of the car.

“I believe Sam and I should head through the south side. There only seems to be only three Demons on that side. You and Y/N shall head through on the North Side. There are more Demons there, but if you keep them occupied, Sam and I can retrieve Jack.”

“I think we can handle that,” Dean didn’t even look your way as he made sure he had all of his weapons ready and loaded. You had the Angel Blade that Cas had given you years ago, along with a couple of Devil’s trap bullets. You were as ready as you could be.

Sam and Cas took off, rounding the corner, while you and Dean stayed to the front. Shadowed by the brick wall, Dean pulled you to the side. “Y/N, I know we ended that conversation on a cliffhanger. But you’re good for this hunt, right? How long has it been since your last hunt?”

“Five years,” you whispered. “But I will be fine.”

“Five years!” He seemed completely taken back. “But that’s when…, you mean you haven’t hunted since then?”

“No. But we need to go,” you insisted, pushing past him and rounding the corner. The house stood in front of you, dark and foreboding. Sam and Cas were just rounding the back. Pushing ahead of Dean, you led the way to the front. He wouldn’t believe your words, so you would just show him that you were still capable of hunting.

And then, maybe you could go home. Back to your normal life. With your normal boyfriend. Who, you had to admit, never created the same butterfly effect that Dean always did to you. But at least it was safe.

“Damn it Y/N, slow down,” Dean growled low as he came rushing up beside you. “Do you want to mess this whole thing up?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the door swung open, and the fight quickly began. Three Demons greeted you at the door, no doubt ready and waiting for your arrival. They swung knives and blades, but weirdly enough didn’t use their powers. Stabbing on through the heart, you turned to see Dean grappling with two big and surly men. However, as you headed over to help, two more came down the stairs, and you were once again fighting for your life.

You were quickly overwhelmed, one holding you roughly by the shoulders, the other one laughing as he swirled the blade around his fingers. “Is this all you brought with you, Winchester? A slight girl, her fighting stale. We expected more of a fight.”

Dean had just killed one Demon, and with a growl, he stabbed the other before facing the ones holding you with murderous rage. “Let her go now!”

“Or you’ll what?” He chuckled. “You take one step towards me and I’ll have this blade so deep in her skin before you could even blink.”

You struggled against the Demon’s tight hold, your breaths short. Dean’s gaze caught yours, full of anguish and fear. His words earlier rang in your mind. You had come into this so unprepared. This was all your fault. “No. I will not let you control this,” You muttered, dropping all of your weight. Surprising the Demon, he let you fall, and it gave Dean a chance to stab the first one. As you started to stand up, the other Demon gasped in surprise, his eyes burning yellow before he slumped to the floor.

“Is everyone alright?” Cas asked, wiping his hand on his trench coat. Behind him stood a young man, a little bloody, his right eye swollen but otherwise unharmed.

“Yep. We’re good,” You answered, ignoring Dean as Cas helped you to stand up. “This must be Jack.”

“You’re...you’re Y/N,” he spoke, coming forward, his gaze almost too much with its intensity. You wanted to look away, but you were caught up in it as well. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” You whispered before Dean was gently grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Let’s go before any more of these black-eyed sons of bitches come back,” he insisted and led the way out the front door. Cas and Jack were not far behind you, Sam shutting the door and taking up the rear.

Once you were safely inside the Impala, you found yourself sitting next to Jack. Sam and Dean were talking softly in the front seat while Cas smiled happily as he stared at Jack. Jack’s attention was on you though. “I am glad to finally meet you,” he offered, reaching for your hand. You thought he was going to shake it, but he simply held it, his eyes widening. “Jack?” Cas noticed the strange look in his face as well.

Suddenly Jack let go of your hand. “I’ve never felt such heartbreak before,” he muttered. “Y/N, how do you keep going with all that pain in your heart? I felt pain and sadness directed at Dean. But there was something else.”

You could feel Dean’s gaze on you through the rearview mirror, and you tried to stop Jack before he said too much. But you were too late. “I’m so sorry for your loss. A miscarriage was it?”

Dean slammed on the brakes, parking in front of his motel room. “Everyone out! Now!”

You started to climb out of the car as well, but one look from Dean had you staying where you were. Sam was the first one out, smiling reassuringly to you before he disappeared with Cas and Jack into the room, leaving you alone with Dean. Alone with the big news that Jack suddenly decided to let everyone know about.

“I didn’t realize he could read people like that,” you started talking as Dean turned in his seat to face you, your hands tugging on the loose thread of your shirt. You were nervous and unready to have this conversation.

“He has a lot of powers that even he doesn’t know about,” Dean explained. “But what he said. Was it true?”

You thought back to that horrible day. You had barely left the bunker when the pain hit. Cramps that had doubled you over, making you swerve your car. You had been alone and scared in the hospital when you had lost an important part of your life. “Yes. It was.”

He ran a hand along his chin, a sure sign that he was upset and unsure. “Dean, during that fight. When..well..something happened. I didn’t blame you for that. After all, I hadn't’ even told you the news yet. I wanted to wait until things were back to normal. Our normal. To tell you that I was...pregnant. But then…,”

“We fought, and it was because of me you lost the baby,” he whispered. “Y/N, I’m so freaking sorry.”

The tears were falling down your face before you even realized you were crying. “It’s nice. Finally being able to tell someone. I’ve kept it buried inside for so long. Dean, please know this. I’ve never blamed you. You had the Mark, it changed you. You didn’t know.”

“That doesn’t excuse it!” He bellowed. “Y/N, I ruined your life, and mine with that freaking mark! I just wish that..,”

“Please don’t,” you spoke softly, wiping away the tears. “Can we just forget any of this ever happened? You can go back to hunting with your brother and his friends. I can go back to my normal life and…,”

“What’s his name?” Dean asked.

“Tyler. We’ve been dating for over a year now.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Is that what you really want? To air all of this out and then run away..to Tyler and whatever normal life you’ve made for yourself? Because I don’t know about you, but I still love you Y/N.”

“I love you too,” you admitted. “But sometimes love isn’t enough to push past all the pain.”

You reached forward, brushing your knuckles against his cheek before you slid out of the car. Dean only watched as you climbed into your truck. Tears streamed down your face as you started to pull away.

“Is this the right thing?” You cried as you pulled onto the highway. Sniffling back tears, you tried to look forward. Back to your simple job, and the fact that you and Tyler were thinking of taking a vacation next month. But all you could see was your memories of Dean.

Dean, with his cheeky smile who had captured your heart the moment you saw him in Harvelle’s bar. Dean, who would wake you up in the middle of the night to take you to some empty field to look at the stars. The man who had always kept his promise to come back to you. And yet here you were, running away.

Slamming on the brakes, you flipped the truck around, knowing you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t run from Dean again. You turned your truck into the parking lot, your tires squealing at the speed. Dean was just getting out of the Impala, walking towards the hotel room.

Turning the engine off, you jumped out. “Dean!” You screamed. “Dean, wait!”

He turned but made no move. Smiling, you raced forward, throwing your arms around him. “I can’t lose you again.”

“But what about Tyler? And that normal life?” He asked, but you could see the hope shining in his eyes.

“It was never meant for me,” you assured him, and with those words, his mouth crashed against yours, and everything was right with the world once again.

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney​ @akshi8278  @bebravekeeponfighting  @bi-danvers0​ @brindz30 @cap-just-said-language​ @colette2537   @deansgirl215  @flamencodiva​ @hamiltrash1411​ @its-not-a-tulpa​ @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @justanotherwinchester​ @just-another-winchester​ @karouwinchester​ @keikoraventeller​  @krys198478​ @librarygeekery​ @magssteenkamp​ @misspygmypie​ @mlovesstories​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​  @mrspeacem1nusone​ @nothinbuttrouble2​ @ria132love​ @ruprecht0420​     @sortaathief​ @superseejay721517​ @squirrelnotsam​ @team-free-will-you-idjiot​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ @torn-and-frayed​ @tricksterdean​ @wonderfulworldofwinchester​ @woodworthti666​

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[luthorao3]

I swear I'm going to send this and then I'm suddenly going to notice several grammatical mistakes immediately after, but here's that longer-than-intended summary for MC and Nadia meeting in the Pirate AU!

MC slips onto a merchant ship one night as a scout to check if the merchant has a particular treasure the Poppy is after. She sneaks over the side after Leon uses a small row boat to get close to the side of the anchored ship (the Gilded Poppy itself is hidden some distance away so nobody in a crow's nest can raise the alarm, and row boats are much harder to spot in the dark and less threatening anyway). Leon rows back, and is meant to drop back to pick her up after an hour or so to give her time to map out the place, assess if the treasure is there, if it is work out security measures, guard numbers, etc.

It's just MC's luck that the merchant ship is attacked by The Flashpoint within that exact hour, when Leon's too far away to do anything and the rest of the Poppy is blissfully unaware.

Nadia does not believe in the Gilded Poppy myth. Like many others, she finds the notion of a ship only ever appearing out of the fog and pirates who leave no casualties ridiculous. So, when amongst the chaos fighting she finds a woman who is clearly not with the merchant or the standard crew of the ship, she's intrigued but doesn't even consider the idea of the Poppy symbol she wears meaning anything significant. Her first thought is stowaway, which she taunts MC with as she smacks her cutlass with her own, thinking that MC had just picked it up during the battle.

But MC surprises her by fighting back, and it's obvious that MC has been taught by someone how to fight, even if she isn't as practiced as Nadia is. It's enough of a surprise to intrigue her even more, and while they're fighting (sparring really, Nadia isn't about to kill a beautiful woman when she hasn't worked out the mystery of her yet - she wants to know and it's the challenge of working it out) MC isn't losing control despite clearly being irritated, but she keeps up with the banter Nadia throws her way, trying to verbally distract her, and when the ship's starting to sink Nadia takes the opportunity to disarm MC and knock her out.

Which is how MC wakes up in The Flashpoint, in a cell with shackles around her wrists. Nadia visits, smug and obnoxious and prodding, asking questions that MC either evades or twists around on Nadia until Nadia realises five minutes later that she never answered.

And Nadia loves challenges, so even if the mysterious woman in her cell is frustrating as hell, she's still curious and determined (and amused, when MC gets particularly annoyed or flustered - isn't that blush a nice colour on her? And maybe Nadia's also flirting a bit despite MC saying that she's taken). Maybe she even arranges a dinner between them, partly to flirt, partly to lower MC's guard and try to get some information out of her.

And she does. MC warns her that her crew will be coming to rescue her. Nadia pays attention to the newfound knowledge that MC's a pirate, but dismisses the idea that The Flashpoint would be attacked. They had open waters on all sides bar some cliffs on starboard's side they were using to hide, and the alarm would be raised if the lookout saw a ship gunning for them, and someone would have noticed if a trail was being left behind (pity she never thought that a Hippocampus could track a boat unseen and lead another ship onwards). She offers MC a spot on Flashpoint which is firmly declined and Nadia's sure that she'll change her mind given enough time when her crew don't find her.

MC smirks a little at that.

Two nights later, fog descends. Nadia can barely see a thing as she barks orders to her crew - the navigator needs to stop so they don't steer straight into a rock for fucks sake, and someone deal with the sails so they don't pick up the wind. Then she's noticing movement in the fog, and she's squinting to try and see but the fog keeps getting thicker.

"Looks like I win our bet, Captain."

MC's on the upper deck, looking down at her grinning, and she should be in a cell, not up there, but then her words register and Nadia spins around, trying to see if it is a ship and what the sail looks like because what lunatics would sail in fog this bad?

A Poppy sail stares back at her for two seconds before the fog thickens until she can barely see the outline. The enemy ship is faint, a ghostly image as it bears down on her. For a moment she thinks she can see a silhouette of a man at the helm, and she sees a shape on his shoulder but it's not a parrot being used by someone trying to fit the stereotype, it's a cat. A freaking cat is standing across his shoulders.

Gunpowder lights up, exploding in an empty part of The Flashpoint - courtesy of Jett who slipped on board unnoticed not long ago through the same row boat technique MC used with the merchant's boat. He hadn't even needed to bring his own gunpowder because Nadia keeps an extreme/dangerous amount of it onboard. In fact he had done away with some of it to keep the explosion from being too large. Nadia's crew is in chaos and people are already diving overboard to swim to shore as the boat gains water, and someone has just used a rope to swing over her head like some heroic figure from an old fable to land at MC's side.

"Ready to go, darling?"

MC tosses Nadia a grin and a wave as Vivienne (who wears a half-mask that leaves her mouth and lipstick uncovered), wraps an arm around her and they leap over to the Gilded Poppy as it steers dangerously close to the sinking ship. Nadia memorises MC's face, the woman with the red-painted lips, the Poppy sail, and the look of the ship as best as she can in the fog as she dives overboard to swim for shore.

She memorises anything that could help her track down the ship again.

HIHIHIHIHI IM LOVE THIS A LOT!!

i can just perfectly picture the stank look on nadia’s face at the end— and then it twisting into an excited little smile. nadia’s never had the patience for mystery but, oh, she enjoys a challenge…

nadia obsessing over the poppy, figuring out their m.o., the trail of slaver vessels that mysteriously lose all of their cargo and then sink to the bottom of the ocean, never to be used again… the poppy certainly isn’t without her enemies, and nadia keeps an ear to the wind for those, too. when the poppy actually get themselves into a bit of a pickle, nadia is there. flashpoint would be known for her guns - for nadia’s tendency to blow anything that’s coming her way out of the water (the gilded poppy were lucky that they caught her crew by surprise, that night) - and nadia runs bloody riot on those who come to track the poppy down. and it’s a bloodbath. the poppy would be so turned off. but in the midst of it, a sliver on uncertainty. had flashpoint meant to ally herself with the poppy, or was nadia simply bearing her teeth?

i want the mental image of nadia and mc sword fighting etching into my eyelids, thanks! nadia with those god awful old pistols, too. and covered in scars. aaaaah, baby baby…..

[poorlytunedukulele]

Day 15 - Live by the Sword

September 04, 2494; Twilight Gap, Earth

Azra leaned and the blade missed by bare millimeters.  It was taking all of her effort just to keep up with Shaxx, never mind beat him.  He wasn’t slow like Titans were supposed to be.

The next swordstroke she could not dodge, so she brought her own blade up.  Solar and Arc crashed together with a shriek and a shower of sparks.  She didn’t have the arm strength to push him back and disengage, so she slid to the side.  She had to hit the deck as Shaxx’s uppercut whizzed by.  She managed to get back on her feet while he checked his momentum, but then he was on her again, pressing her for her space.

“You fight a lot different than a Swordbearer,” she grunted.

“How so?”  Shaxx didn’t even sound winded.  He leveled a thrust at her abdomen.  She stepped aside and threw an elbow into his face.  The helmet protected him from the worst of the blow.

“They’re not fast.  Or subtle.  Their swords-“ she paused to block an overhand cut, feeling the impact in her bones.  “They don’t thrust.  Just swing.”

“And Crota fought the same way?”

The air screamed against her exposed skin.  Everything here was screams.  The ground was suffering folded onto itself, the walls were dripping with pain and despair.  And before her, a towering Knight, the realest thing in this place.

The sword in her hand was death.  She didn’t know if it was her own death or the Knight’s.  Or both.  Probably both.  It seemed fitting.

She was hit with a blow, cleaving through armor and muscle alike.  She rolled with the force of it and ended up face-up in the dirt.  The pain was so intense for a second that it blinded her.

She didn’t have time to think.  The strike had rendered her right arm useless.  The sword went to her left hand as she reached for the Light.  The Knight was on top of her, fast, too fast-

She rolled to the side.  A blade sheared through the earth where she’d been just a millisecond earlier.

Then she was on her feet and the Arc hit her.  The sword in her hand rang like a bell.  She could feel every imperfection in the metal, how they stopped the Light from singing true, how the blade would shatter itself if she pushed even a fraction harder.

The Knight was struggling to free its weapon, stuck in the slow-motion of normality.  Bolt-Caster in her hand shrieked like a Deathsinger.

That wasn’t a Knight.  That was Lord Shaxx.

He freed Raze-Lighter from the clutches of the earth and rounded on her.  She tried to find the words to tell him stop, but the Arc screamed too loud in her head and Shaxx was already bearing down on her (he had no right to be that fast).  She knew what to do.  Even a glancing cut with Bolt-Caster would kill in this state.

But she didn’t want to kill Shaxx.  For a moment she had; she’d looked at his outline and thought only of the best way to end him.  Azra was not okay with crossing that line- the one between sparring with someone and trying to destroy them.  Not when the air was still sparking with his genuine excitement and curiosity.

She hesitated, slowed by pain and indecision.  She had enough wits to see the uppercut coming, but no more.

Then, fire and nothingness.

Her Ghost raised her on her feet.  Lord Shaxx stood ready on guard, chin tilted up in challenge.

Azra shook her head and plunged her sword point-first into the earth.  She pulled off her helmet to let the mountain air wash over her face.  Shaxx lowered his blade in turn.

“You panic when you lose control," the Titan intoned.  "You need to keep a level head, even when you’re losing."

“I forgot where I was.”  Azra ran a hand through her hair to hide the shaking.  “You asked me about Crota and hit me hard and I just acted on instinct.”

Shaxx eyed her critically.  “I find it curious your instinct is to freeze,” he said, voice carrying doubt.

“My instinct is death,” she said, a little bitter.  “It’s never going to be anything but that.  But I’m… not comfortable with those intentions around people.”

“You must control your instincts, not the other way around,” Shaxx said, inclining his head in judgement.  “Still.  You are better than I expected.  I did not think staff-work would translate to edged weapons that well.”

“I trained with the best,” Azra said.  “Tevis got on the sword bandwagon centuries ago.  Fencing with him always helped clear my head.”

“I would have liked the opportunity to spar with him,” Shaxx said.  There was a tinge of regret on his voice, in the air- one which Azra pushed aside.  Tevis was dead not three months now, but so much had changed- the Battle of Saturn, sneaking onto the Dreadnaught, killing Oryx, then ending him in his throne world, that it seemed like it had been years.  He wouldn’t have stood for the moping, anyway.

“In a way, you just did spar with him,” Azra said, rolling her newly-healed shoulder.  “He taught me everything I know.”

“Not everything,” Shaxx said.  “Never everything.”

Azra shrugged and picked up her blade.  “Bet you a hundred Glimmer I win next round.”

“I do not bet,” Shaxx said, raising his sword again.

Azra’s eyes sparkled with mischief.  “Coward.”

When he witnessed Bolt-Caster’s true design (throwing Arc bolts from range, a subversion of the close-range combat swords were supposed to be used for) he laughed and handed over a hundred Glimmer.

She lost the next two bouts, but eked out victory on the fifth, which counted her two more wins than she had been expecting.

“Next time I will not go easy on you,” Shaxx warned as they climbed the stairs to the exit of the Crucible arena.

“That was you going easy?  Jesus.”  Azra was sore, even though Spark had healed all of her injuries.  Her ears still rung with the clash of metal on metal.

“Nevertheless, this has been enlightening,” Shaxx said.  “I would very much enjoy a next time.”

Azra stretched her aching arms.  Lord Shaxx was too loud and too enthusiastic, but he was smart, and he was honest.  She figured she could get used to the noise.  “I’m sure I can make some free time,” she said.

AO3 Link

[concealeddarkness13]

WHG Post Games Nesri Part 5

Tagging: @ratracechronicler (also thanks for Elvira and Rebecca!), @maple-writes (also thanks for Asher and Cirrus!), @nightskywriter, @rhikasa, @pen-of-roses (also thanks for Rowan!), @aeslin-writes, @the-moving-finger-writes, @knmartinshouldbewriting, @makeitmonstrous, and @timefirewrites!

Zenith glanced at the overturned furniture and crossed his arms. “Now, we’ve got to get this furniture back to where it was before.”

I shook my head. “Nah. It’s more comfortable this way.”

No one objected. Rowan asked if anyone wanted food, and they went into the kitchen to make the food. I followed to make some more popcorn for the extra special announcement. When I came back into the living room, Asher and Cirrus were sitting beside each other. I grinned at them and sat on the other side of Cirrus, and I offered him some popcorn as I turned on the TV. Rebecca had moved to the chair she had sat in previously, and Elvira was sitting on the floor in front of her.

The stupid Capitol fanfare started up, and I sighed and leaned against Cirrus, glancing over at him to make sure it was okay. He didn’t seem to mind. Caesar was standing up, energizing the crowd as Evie and Lynn were seated behind him. They looked profoundly uncomfortable as another “wonderful” guest sat beside them. President Snow, the smug bastard, was smiling vaguely at the crowd.

Caesar laughed. “Welcome to another special interview! This time, our esteemed President Snow has decided to join us! So, let’s get going!” I frowned as he looked over at Snow, across Evie and Lynn. Were they just props? Why were they even here? “So, I heard that you are planning something special for the tributes who survived the arena!”

President Snow laughed. “I want to celebrate the ones who survived the arena: the Victor: Poli, Lynn, and Evelynne by hosting a party with them as special guests.” The crowd roared.

“How generous, putting them on display like prizes or cattle for the Capitol to fawn over even more, and here I had somehow believed they couldn’t sink any lower,” Rowan muttered. Asher nodded.

Caesar waited for the crowd to quiet down before continuing. “But it’s not going to be just any party, is it? Could you give us all the juicy details?”

“This party will actually be a cruise on my personal yachts, and the party will last two nights, with special guests being able to stay overnight near the tributes who survived the arena. And this was suggested by Alastair, who will also be a special guest at the party. It will be a themed party. Everyone is encouraged to dress as a pirate to fit the theme.” Evie hid a smile behind her hand at the announcement, and I grinned as the crowd roared again.

Rebecca sat up straighter. “I bet my stylist influenced that choice cuz of me.”

I laughed as Cirrus looked excited. “This is brilliant! Triel won’t believe it!” I grabbed out my phone and texted her about the cruise and the costumes.

Rowan looked thoughtful. “That’s good, Lynn can swim, he’s a very strong swimmer, that’s very good.”

“Captain Skeates will likely turn up uninvited,” Elvira muttered, rubbing one of her temples. I felt a thrill at that. Triel had mentioned Captain Skeates in the past.

Asher looked thoughtful. “Does he mean, on the ocean?”

I shrugged, trying to remember what Triel said about the geography of the Capitol. “Probably at the lake neighboring the Capitol. I hope they wouldn’t go to such extremes to go on the ocean. But, this is the Capitol, so I could be wrong.”

Zenith nodded. “The president’s yachts are outfitted to go on the lake.” He looked embarrassed and added quickly, mumbling, “I was invited there when I was working for the Capitol before.”

“They won’t recognize you and give us away, will they?” Elvira asked carefully.

He paused. “”The only people I really interacted with before I left was my team and some high ups in the Capitol. If I avoid them, I should be safe. Well, as safe as a former tribute could be. Any other person would recognize me as a former tribute instead.” Rebecca winced and nodded at that.

“Yeah, but that’s also a problem, isn’t it?” Cirrus added. “If they know we’re all tributes?”

I waved it off. “Triel has the best disguises.” Then added in a mumble. “But she’ll probably make us all wear wide brimmed hats and long coats.”

“For your entire faces?” Elvira asked.

I nodded. “She knows how to hide in plain sight. The hats will help too.”

Cirrus sighed. “We’re all going to look like umbrellas with those hats.”

I laughed. “Nah. The hats always flatter the person wearing them. I think you, especially, will look good dressed as a pirate.”

“It’s umbrellas or being spotted and as someone who’s done my best to avoid being noticed, I’d rather be an umbrella.” Rowan winced. “Though I’ve never actually stayed hidden for long.”

“Fine.” Cirrus leaned back into the couch. “If I have to.”

Caesar, luckily, had to wait longer for the crowd to quiet down. “So, how does one get these special tickets? And regular tickets, for that matter!”

Snow clasped his hands and smirked at the camera. “You will sign up for a drawing, and you will be pulled from the pool at a later date. Think of it as our own Hunger Games.” He chuckled at that. “Only fifty lucky guests will be able to stay overnight.”

My phone buzzed. It was a message from Triel. I relayed it to the rest of them. “Triel says this is fortunate for us. She’ll be able to get costumes for all of us. And she says that Alastair already contacted her, saying that he pulled some strings and secured the special guest tickets for us.”

“And we’ll be overstaying our welcome.” Rebecca chuckled darkly.

“Well, that’s part of the plan taken care of. ‘Our own Hunger Games.’ I’ve known animals with more humanity,” Rowan said.

I grinned. “And we get to screw with them and show them how stupid and not in control the are! Excellent!”

“That’s a lot of days undercover.” Asher was looking nervous. “There’s a lot that can happen.”

Zenith was frowning. “So, we go in our disguises, stay overnight, and what? How are we going to get them out from under the Capitol’s nose? And how many people are we going to get? I would assume the other person they showed off, Laurel I think, will be there too. Who knows who else will be there?” His eyes flickered over to me. “What if Churi is there?”

I kept my face neutral, even as I tensed against Cirrus. “Then I’ll avoid him.”

He shook his head. “What if you can’t?”

Cirrus shrugged. “Beat the shit out of him if he gets close?”

While I appreciated the sentiment, that wouldn’t work. I swallowed hard. “He’s not exactly a…physical being. It won’t work as well as you’d like. He can recover from any injury to his physical body in a second.” I looked over at Zenith. “I could ask you the same question with avoiding your team. But…I’ll try to figure it out.”

Elvira cut in. “We can spend the first day doing recon on our targets, then split ourselves between them to spring them simultaneously, hopefully with guards of our own to spare for whatever goes wrong.”

Zenith nodded, tearing his scrutinizing eyes away from me. “That is a good plan.”

I took a deep breath, composing myself. I forced a smile. “We’ll have to blend in. And that means dance lessons! Who’s already learned?” In the background, Caesar was asking Evie and Lynn what they thought about the party, and they were giving the expected, fake excited responses.

Zenith raised his hand. “Arque thought it was good training.”

Rowan raised their hand. “From my mother.”

Rebecca’s mouth dropped open. “That means dance lessons, why?”

I laughed. “Because we have to pretend we’re fancy Capitol idiots. We have to act the part. They depend on dancing for their daily exercise.”

Rebecca thought about it, grabbed her sword, swung out her leg, and made a motion as if to chop off her own leg. She already had the dramatic part down for pretending to be a Capitol idiot. Elvira sighed and pulled the sword away. “I’ll teach you. Behave and I’ll even let you lead.” Rebecca scowled but lowered both the sword and her leg.

Cirrus smiled at Rebecca. “I’ve never danced like this before but it can’t be that hard.”

“Speak for yourself,” Asher added. “I had to do it once way back in school and it didn’t go well.”

I leaned forward and grinned at both of them. “I can be your lead while Triel teaches!”

Zenith frowned. “So, we have the costumes, the dance lessons, and the tickets. Is there anything that we’re missing?”

“Snorkels?” Rebecca suggested. “How’re we gonna bail once we got the bounty? Is it a hit-and-run-and-hope-we-can-outrun-them thing, or do we try and keep it quiet and let them figure it out in the morning?”

Shine texted my phone, and I relayed their message. (Yeah, the author did not know that Shine was nonbinary, preferring he/him and they/them pronouns until last week, and Shine had indicated that they preferred they/them currently over he/him today). I relayed the message. “I have a machine that can keep our airship invisible, so we can get away without the Capitol noticing if you can figure out how to sneak them onto the airship.”

“If it’s a fancy yacht it should have an open air deck or something, right?” Asher leaned forward to look at me. “Could we pull them up from there?”

I nodded. “That would work, if the deck is crowded. If we want to be sneaky about it.”

“Definitely a lido deck at least, and they should cover the pool overnight to prevent drunken passengers from falling in. Whether they actually will remains to be seen,” Elvira pointed it out.

“Right, it’ll be a possibly crowded ship.” Rowan ran a hand through their hair.

“Maybe we can push some of them in before we leave,” I mumbled before I spoke louder. “That would work too! Shine will be piloting the airship, and he can bring it anywhere we need it.” I looked over at Rowan. “Then we’ll just have to make sure that they’re all drunk before we head out!” I gave him a thumbs up while I grinned.

They laughed a little uneasily. “If anything, having them drunk might make it worse and they’ll accidentally stumble in on us.”

“They won’t understand what they’re seeing, and then they’ll forget it all by morning!” I said.

“We can lure them away by smuggling some moonshine aboard and whispering that to a few people and make sure the word gets around by telling people not to tell anyone,” Rebecca offered. “Stash it or distribute it far off from the pickup point or the targets or whatever, huh?”

Zenith nodded. No hint of a smile or levity. Wow. “That would work. The Capitol citizens are suckers for alcohol. But I’m worried that the captured tributes might have too many visitors overnight.”

“Why shouldn’t such visitors include ourselves if we are, after all, esteemed guests from the Capitol?” Elvira asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It could lead to the Capitol learning they’re gone sooner than we’d like,” Zenith said.

“If they’re something more entertaining they’ll probably flock towards it.” Cirrus shrugged. “Might give us an opening.”

“That’s a good point, we need to make sure there is enough time to actually get everyone, somehow get everyone to the same spot, get rid of the shockers, and get away,” Rowan said. Rebecca winced at the mention of the shockers.

Zenith cocked an eyebrow. “What could we do that would be more interesting than the stars of the party?”

“Man overboard?” Cirrus suggested.

Brilliant! And at the same time Rebecca, me, and Asher spoke.

“Caesar overboard,” Rebecca breathed, with stars in her eyes.

I grinned. “President Snow overboard!”

Asher grinned. “President overboard?”

Rowan considered the suggestions. “Alright, how do we get  to the most important person on the ship to push him over?”

Rebecca rubbed her chin, thinking, but I spoke up first. I eyed Elvira. “The non-tributes. Triel and Elvira won’t be as easily recognized, so they should be able to get closer. How about that?”

A faint smile played on Elvira’s lips. “I accept.”

Perfect! Everything was getting figured out well! Just as I thought that, Rowan paled. “I just had a truly terrible thought that I hope is years of paranoia speaking and has no actual basis in reality because how could it right?”

Zenith tensed. “What was it?”

“What do they know about us escaping?”

“The Capitol probably didn’t tell them the truth about what happened to us. They could actually be using us against them.”

“Like, our friends think we got captured too, maybe, and the Cap’s threatening us, so that’ll keep them obedient? Or something like that?” Rebecca asked, sounding confused.

Zenith nodded. “Possibly. I’ve heard of the Capitol doing it before.”

“Would they believe us if we told them we aren’t captured?” Asher asked. “Or would they be suspicious?”

“Would the Capitol at all expect us to be looking to help them?” Rowan asked.

All this guesswork went way over what I wanted to think about. So, I just stayed quiet. Zenith nodded, looking thoughtful. “I think we could prove to them that we weren’t captured. We don’t have shockers like they do, for example. But Rowan brings up a good point. The Capitol will be expecting us to do something. Alastair getting extra tickets for special guests could already look suspicious to them.”

“Or I could be wrong really, that’s still a possibility, after all they’re the Capitol maybe they think they’re invincible and, Goddess, please let me be wrong.” Rowan runs a hand through their hair.

“If they’re expecting us to be active in undermining them, I feel they would’ve found us by now—or at least we’d know they were looking,” Elvira pointed out calmly. “The fact that we haven’t been approached means we aren’t seen as a threat.”

I sat up and nodded, actually trying to look serious. “That’s a good point, and also, we’ve already defied the Capitol once, when they were watching. We can do it again!” I smiled now. “Zenith knows all these people, so he can just scowl at them, and they’d be intimidated!”

He scowled at me, and I was super intimidated. “That wouldn’t work. Most of them don’t know me.”

“You don’t need to recognize the caliber of the bullet in your skull before it can kill you,” Rebecca snorted.

Cirrus shrugged. “If we don’t get recognized we don’t have to worry about suspicious anyway, right?” He glanced at me. “If Triel can disguise us all we have to do is act the part.” He paused. “How many of you have been to anything like this? Any of you know how to order a servant to do something for you without sticking out?”

“Usually the one being ordered,” Rowan muttered.

Zenith frowned. “Kind of. But I wouldn’t be too proficient at sounding rich. I was there as a soldier.”

I laughed. “I have no idea. Triel knows from pretending to be rich to get information, though.”

Rebecca cringed, chewing on knuckle. “I’ve…seen it happen. If that counts. I stalked an upper-class guy for two years cuz I thought we were in love. It’s morbidly fascinating. They just play gods twenty-four-seven.”

Cirrus nodded. “We’ll work on it then.” He smirked. “I was a prince once, you know.”

Asher laughed. “And an entitled ass.”

Rowan frowned. “You were? Wait, right, not important right now.”

“Technically still am, but it’s a long story.”Cirrus sighed.

Wow. Made more sense why he lost his cool so easily when I teased him during the fight. I grinned. “Thankfully, you’re not one of the annoying ones. At least not too annoying.”

“Do you play harpsichord?” Rebecca whispered suspiciously.

Cirrus twisted to face her. “The what?”

She relaxed. “You’re fine.”

Cirrus looked confused, but shook it off. “Anyway, I can help you out with that.” He pointed at Rowan. “You and Asher especially.”

Aw. I wasn’t part of the list. He believed in me. I grinned. “I’ll throw popcorn at you during your training, and you’ll have to ignore it!”

“Me?” Rowan asked.

Cirrus nodded. “You’re…” He thought for a little bit. “You seem like a considerate person and all but you don’t want to come off as too nice, not in front of the other guests.”

“Of course that’s the reason.” Rowan sighed but nodded.

I nodded, but my eyes were starting to feel heavy, and my brain was moving slower. “So, that’s all figured out! We can get started tomorrow. I’ll have to make sure to make a lot of popcorn!”

Cirrus mumbled something about me eating too much popcorn, but he agreed. I just made sure to make a face at him before we left to go to our own rooms.

[rosemaidenvixen]

A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 9: Darci

Ao3

Darci shifted the bag onto her hip, leaving her hand free to knock on the door.

“It’s open,” Claire’s voice called from inside.

She quickly opened the door so she could better grip the bag, and headed into the house. Everyone else was already there, Jim and Mary were messing around in the kitchen while Toby fiddled with a pile of cards. Claire waved her over from her seat on the couch.

“I brought the guac, you have the chips?”

Darci held up the tote bag “Right here,”

Claire patted the spot next to her “We’re almost ready, Toby just needs to finish shuffling,”

Toby flashed them a thumbs up without taking his eyes away from the cards flying through his fingers.

“So as soon as our chefs finish we’ll be ready to start,” she gestured towards the kitchen.

“It would go a lot faster if someone ,” Jim’s voice wafted out of the kitchen “Would hurry up with the fancy apple juice,”

“Hey, I don’t tell you how to make those little meat pies, you don’t tell me how to do my mocktails,”

“They’re called pasties and more effort goes into them than you’ll ever know,”

“I’m sorry, do you want to play our new years cards against humanity tournament without mocktails? Because if you keep it up that’s what’s going to happen,”

Claire made a face and Darci had to stifle a giggle. She didn’t quite succeed and it came out as a snort.

Fortunately the bickering didn’t last and soon Jim and Mary came into the living room with their respective refreshments.

“We’re good to camp out here all day,” Jim said while carefully setting down his tray “But remember to try and be quiet, Mom just got off a graveyard shift and she’s trying to sleep,”

Darci nodded at this, normally they prefered to hang out at Claire’s house where they had a lot more space and didn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone, but since her parents were having a bunch of people over to work on the new nursery they’d been forced to come up with alternate plans.

Toby grabbed the plastic bucket and plunked it down on top of the coffee table “Like we agreed guys, everyone ante up,”

Darci reached into her bag and pulled out the package of sparklers, briefly rereading the label before setting them in the bucket. Around her everyone else produced some kind of firework and put it in the offered bin.

Those were the terms they’d agreed on, everyone chipped in some of their leftover fireworks from last night, and the winner got the pot.

Now that the stakes were set, Toby started dealing out to each of them from the pile of white cards “Just to make sure everyone remembers, no throwing in the towel, we go until we drop. The winner’s the last one standing or the one with the most black cards by five o'clock, whichever comes first,” he flashed them a feral grin “Let the games begin,”

Claire returned his predatory look “You’d better bring your A-game TP, because I’m going home with those bottle rockets,”

The two of them stared each other down, Darci glanced over to Jim and Mary. The three of them rolled their eyes simultaneously.

It wasn’t like it really mattered who won, whoever it was would just end up shooting them all off at the end of the year bonfire with everyone else.

Jim apparently decided he’d had enough of Toby and Claire’s standoff and gently nudged his friend in the shoulder to grab his attention “Ok you dealt so I’ll draw the first black one,”

All eyes were on him as he picked up a black card from the top of the deck, flipped it over, and started reading it out loud “Arby’s, we have….”

The sound of shuffling filled the room as they all started rifling through their cards. Darci scanned through her hand before one in particular grabbed her attention. This one, this one was perfect. She couldn’t control the grin that spread across her face as she set her white card down with the others.

Her card did in fact win the Darci first round, and she won many rounds after that. Though not all of them. Steadily growing piles of black cards grew besides each of them; a visual reminder of each victory. Some rounds were over quickly with a winner being declared in seconds, others took a while, the judge having to choose between multiple very good choices or all bad choices. Some rounds were extended simply because they were all laughing too hard to function.

Their game passed in a blur of giggles, laughs, tears, and groans. So by the time Darci got around to checking her phone, she saw that it was already almost 2pm.

Toby lifted a card from the top of the black deck “Ok, the class field trip was completely ruined by... uh Darci, why are you raising your hand?”

“Hey, uh, not that I’m not having a blast,” she slowly lowered her hand “But all those mocktails are catching up to me,”

His eyes widened by just a fraction “Ah,”

They all looked around at the empty glasses and plates surrounding them. Jim was the first to set his cards facedown on the floor “How about we take a quick five minute break?”

“Ok,”

“Sounds good,”

“Fine by me,”

They all set down their cards and started getting to their feet

Darci glanced down the hall “Hey Jim, where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall past the kitchen, first door on the right, the other door’s just the basement,”

“Thanks,”

Mary started gathering empty glasses “I’ll go ahead and make more mocktails,”

Claire raised her arms above her head and stretched, no doubt working out the kinks in her back from staying seated so long “I think I’ll use the facilities too,”

“Make that three,” Jim added.

Uh oh, sounded like a line was forming.

Wasting no more time, Darci scurried off to the bathroom as discreetly as she could. She had to go bad and did not want to get stuck behind Claire and Jim. A few minutes later she walked out feeling very relieved, but was surprised to see no one waiting by the door.

Where were Jim and Claire? They’d said they had to go to, so why weren’t-- ah, the upstairs bathroom. That must be it.

Looking over to her right revealed that Toby, busy stacking haphazard piles of cards, was the only one in the living room. Sounds of pouring liquids and clinking glasses came from the kitchen, which meant Mary was still in there making drinks. It looked like Toby had the cards under control, so Darci opted to go into the kitchen to see if Mary needed help.

She poked her head through the entryway “You want an assist with those mocktails?”

Mary glanced over to her while still pouring two cans into the large pitcher “I’m just about done, but if you could put the empties in recycle that would be great,”

“Will do,”

Dacri started collecting empty cans and bottles from off the counters. But it was only when her arms were full that she realized she couldn’t see a recycling bin anywhere.

“You know where the bin is?”

“Just put them in the paper bag hanging off the back door,” Mary replied without looking up from stirring the pitcher “They have some other kind of plan,”

Walking over to the back door, Darci found the bag Mary was talking about with no issue, except for one slight problem. She stared at the narrow opening of the paper bag and then back down at the brimming pile of cans in her arms.

This was going to be a challenge.

Unwilling to admit defeat by setting the cans down on the counter and putting them in one at a time, Darci leaned over and held the pile of cans over the bag. Slowly, she loosened her arms and adjusted her grip so that only a few cans fell into the bag at a time.

She was down to five cans and already congratulating herself for pulling this off when the cans shifted unexpectedly, causing four to fall in the bag while one slipped free and started rolling away. Swearing under her breath, Darci chased after the runaway. The can had a headstart on her and rolled straight towards the cracked basement door.

Don’t go through the door, don’t go through the door, don’t go through the door.

The can slipped perfectly through the crack and she could hear it start bouncing down the steps.

Well darn.

Darci hesitated at the basement door for a second. Jim hadn’t specifically said that the basement was off limits, but it always felt weird going into new spaces at other people’s houses, especially without explicit permission. It always felt like she was sneaking around.

Berating herself, Daric opened the door and headed down the creaky wooden steps towards where the can had landed at the bottom. Why was she making such a big deal about this, it wasn’t like she was looking at anything private, it was just the basement, not someone’s bedroom or home office. Besides, leaving garbage just laying around someone else’s house was a lot worse than accidentally snooping.

Having reached the bottom of the steps, Darci bent over and wrapped her fingers around the wayward can; but before she could even stand back up, the already dim basement suddenly became much darker.

She let out a squeak and whirled her head in the direction of the door above her. It was shut, but only partially, the narrow line of light was proof of that. Probably just swung shut by itself because of the way the house settled. Darci let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. What was with her today? She really needed to quit being so jumpy.

Adrenaline fading, Darci turned and walked back up the steps towards the door. But three steps from the top she paused, squinting to try and peer through the gloom.

It looked like there was some kind of weird...pattern on the door. Or was there? It was mostly clustered in one area and didn’t look like any kind of decorative pattern she’d seen before. From this distance in the dark she couldn’t really tell.

But there was something on the door, that much she was sure of.

Curious now, Darci came to the topmost step and leaned in close, cracking the door wider to let in more light.

What she’d first thought was an engraved pattern on the door was actually scratches. Dozens upon dozens of overlaying scratches clustered just below the middle of the door. Darci’s eyes flitted across the numerous grooves. These marks didn’t look like a one off thing either. They were so deeply layered on top of each other, something must have scratched this door over and over again for a long time. In fact they looked almost like--

Her heart stopped.

Darci raised a hand up, desperately hoping to be proven wrong as she lined her fingers up with a group of the scratches. To her horror they aligned perfectly.

She realized her fingers were trembling.

“Mary!” she hissed, not wanting to shout but needing someone else to see this “Mary come check this out!”

“What is it?”

“Just get over here!”

Mary’s footsteps came towards the basement as Darci pushed the door open and stepped out into the hall, putting the scratches on full display.

Mary came around the corner, frowning, no doubt unhappy about being called over so hastily. Not even bothering to try and pacify her, Darci worlessly pointed towards the scratches. It took Mary a few seconds to notice what Darci was pointing at, but the instant she did her jaw dropped and her eyes got huge “What the hell is all that?”

Darci lined up her fingers to the scratches to demonstrate “I think these are claw marks,” she whispered “Someone was locked in the basement,”

“Holy shit….” Mary said with hushed incredulity, pulling out her phone and snapping a few pics of the scored wood.

Darci moved from examining the door itself to the knob. She was stunned to see it didn’t have a lock in it, meaning that it should have been impossible for anyone to be locked down there. And the knob matched all the others in the house so it wasn’t likely that a lockable knob had been replaced with a lockless knob.

So why had someone been clawing at a door that shouldn’t have been stopping them in the first place?

Her brain chased itself in circles, trying to come up with a solution to the paradox in front of her. Winding Darci into a tighter and tighter spring of anxiety and confusion, and ultimately getting nowhere.

Maybe a different perspective was what she needed to solve this puzzle.

Stepping fully back up into the hall, Darci shut the door all the way. Glancing at the walls surrounding the door for anything odd. It took her a little while but eventually she noticed something.

Something that would have otherwise appeared more or less normal, if not for what was on the basement door.

An exercise band was hanging on a hook attached to the wall just over a foot away from the door, the hook was exactly level with the doorknob.

Not even realizing what she was doing, Darci lifted the free end of the band, reached over, and looped it over the knob. It fit, but just barely, tension in the band keeping the door firmly shut. Lock or no lock that would keep someone in the basement.

Mary was almost manically snapping more pictures now, shaking hands barely able to hold her phone up “Holy shit holy shit holy shit!” she hissed.

Darci forced herself to reach out and slip the band off the door, needing to see the scratches again, even though their image was already burned into her retinas. To force her brain to accept the fact that what Darci was looking at was real.

Looking at the layers of claw marks again something else clicked.

Something that made Darci start to feel physically ill.

How low they were on the door. How tightly clustered the marks were.

Whoever had been locked in the basement had been tiny .

“Oh my god,” Mary whispered “It was Jim...”

It took Darci a few seconds to actually process what Mary had said “What are you talking about?”

“The weird curfew, the way he freaked out when he was late, what do you think!”

Darci immediately wanted to say something denying that, but all she could do was stand there with her jaw hanging open.

This house looked fairly new, twenty, thirty years old tops. And Jim said he’d lived here since he was born, that still left a ten year gap when someone else lived here and could have left the marks….

No. The marks didn’t look brand new, but they didn’t look thirty years old either. If she had to guess Darci would say they were made about ten years ago. Right about the time Jim would have been in elementary school.

And the hook with the band, those were definitely a recent thing.

A wave of cold dizziness washed over her. Her head was light and her knees went weak. Darci still couldn’t believe this was real, she didn’t want to believe this was real. She was barely aware of Mary looking frantically back and forth between her phone and the door. These things were only supposed to happen to far off strangers on the news and in magazines. Not here right in front of her face, not to someone she went to school with every day.

How had they not noticed-- how had she not noticed? All the weird rules, the crazy hours, why had it taken this long to put it together? And according to Toby this had been going for years, years for crying out loud! How could Jim have lived through years of...this...

Darci was so out of it she barely noticed the sound of footsteps from behind the bathroom door.

Heavy adult footsteps.

Adrenaline surged, snapping Darci out of her state of shock. Lightning fast, she shoved the basement door shut with her left hand and grabbed Mary’s arm with the right. Ignoring her friend’s squawk of protest and yanking her away from the basement. Just before the bathroom door swung open and out came--

“Hi girls, you having fun with your card game?”

“Oh yeah for sure,” Mary said chipperly.

Darci was beyond grateful that Mary could still act casual after what they’d seen. It was all she could do to force a smile on her face and nod, desperately hoping she didn’t look as nervous as she felt.

“Well don’t mind me, I just came down here because there was a line upstairs,” Dr. Lake flashed them a smile before turning and heading towards the staircase “Now it’s back to bed for me,”

Without warning Mary shoved two mocktail glasses into Darci’s hands, picking up the other three herself “We’ll just grab our drinks and get back to our game,”

Dr. Lake spared them a quick nod as she went up the stairs “Sounds good, and help yourselves to anything you need,”

“Will do,” Mary replied, herding Darci towards the living room.

It was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other.

Standing in front of them in pajamas and slippers, Jim’s mom seemed so nice, so normal , how could she be the type of person who would…

Darci took one final glance at the door as they walked by, catching a brief glimpse of the scratches, confirming that she hadn’t just hallucinated it.

“Don’t worry, I still have the pictures,” Mary whispered, barely audible, into her ear.

Oh. That’s right. Darci was so busy being shell shocked she’d forgotten all about that.

Stepping back into the living room she saw that everyone else was already there and waiting.

“Hey guys,” Toby piped up “You ready to get started”

“Totally,” Mary said while passing out mocktails, if Darci didn’t know better she would have believed the enthusiasm in Mary’s voice was genuine.

“Darci?”

All eyes were on her, expectantly waiting for a reply.

“Yeah...you’d better believe it...”

The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze. Mindlessly putting down cards when she was called to, not even bothering to read what was on them.

Mainly she was focused on trying not to stare at Jim. To turn to him and ask why. Why hadn’t Jim said anything, why hadn’t he asked any of them for help? They’d sat next to each other every day at lunch for six months and he’d never let on that any of this was happening. Did he think no one would believe him, or was he scared of what his mom would do if he told? She would have thought that they trusted each other enough by now, so why...

The coppery tang of blood filled her mouth as her teeth cut into her tongue with the force Darci was biting it. If she started now there would be no stopping the flood. Right now Darci just had to get through this afternoon and talk about what she’d seen with Mary later. That meant she needed to stay calm, keep her head on. Not giving in to the urge to scream ‘What the hell?!’ at Jim every time she saw him out of the corner of her eye. And it didn’t help that she had to fight the urge to jump every time she heard Dr. Lake moving upstairs. Not. At. All.

Their game seemed to drag on so long that Darci thought it would never end, but eventually it did, not soon enough and far too early at the same time. She joined the other’s in cleaning up, moving like she was in a fog. Robotically picking up stray cards and putting away dirty dishes. And soon, far too soon, Jim was shutting the door behind them.

What would happen to him now that the door was shut and they were gone?

Toby jogged over to his own house, gazing forlornly at the plastic pail in Claire’s arms as he waved goodbye. Dacri jerkily raised her hand and moved it from side to side in an effort to mirror the gesture. Something that Mary pulled off much better and Claire didn’t even have to fake.

Lucky her.

Claire was the last one to turn away, still beaming and waving at Toby even as they rounded the turn and he vanished from sight..

“I don’t know about you guys, but we need to do that again, before next year,” she paused, no doubt waiting for them to chime in in agreement, but Darci couldn’t speak past the massive knot in her throat. And Mary looked grim and gaunt, no longer maintaining the mask she’d had for the last few hours.

When her friends didn’t reply Claire turned and faced them “Is everything ok? You’ve been pretty quiet all afternoon Darc,”

Mary stopped in her tracks, laying a hand on Claire’s shoulder to halt her as well. Darci stopped right along with them. She glanced towards Darci, the two of them sharing a knowing look.

Claire’s gaze flickered back and forth between them. Mouth crumpling into a frown when she recognized that they were in on a secret she didn’t share “Guys, what’s going on?”

“Claire…” Mary spoke up softly, she looked over at Darci for approval. Darci nodded back at her. Claire deserved to know the truth, but if Darci tried to explain she would just end up crying.

Looking grim, Mary pulled her phone out “Claire, you need to see this…”

[spectraspecs-writes]

Leviathan - Chapter 102

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 101. Chapter 103.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma @strangepostmiracle thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

--------

One hour earlier…

“Well, if we’re going to pick someone to save our skins, we’d better do it quick,” Carth says, “In another minute we’re going to have Sith troops marching up our loading ramp!”

I can see Rena quickly turning over all sorts of ideas in her head, but come on, how many of them are actually going to work? We’re totally screwed!

Unless…

I raise my hand. “Ooh! Ooh!” I’ve got an idea! Rena, I’ve got an idea! She looks at me. “I can break out of anything! Maybe I can goad the guards into making a mistake!”

She cocks an eyebrow. “What sort of mistake?”

Well, I don’t really know for sure yet. But I know I can do it! “If I get them mad enough, they might put me in a separate cell to punish me. With them focusing so much on you three I might be able to sneak out of my cell and come rescue the rest of you!”

Big Z doesn’t like my plan at all. I appreciate him worrying about me and all, but I can do this! “No, it’s too dangerous!” he says.

“It’s a risk we have to take, Big Z!” I say to him, “I can slice my way free from any security cell! Don’t worry, I can pull this off!”

Rena’s concerned, too, I can tell. I’ve gotten that look from a lot of people for a long time. But it was always because they saw me as a kid. Rena sees me as a friend. She’d give the same look to anybody, even Jolee. “Mission,” she says, “are you sure?”

I am absolutely positive. I mean, sure, the Sith are dangerous, but they’d be dangerous to anybody, not just me. They’re more likely to underestimate me than they are anybody else. “Yeah, Rena,” I say with a nod, “I want to do this.”

The ship shakes suddenly. “Hold on!” Carth says, “They're dragging us into the docking bridge!”

Rena steps over to me. “Get to the starboard quarters,” she says, “Make them come to you, fight on your own turf.”

Ooh, good idea! “Got it.”

“Fight dirty, curse, piss him off. Insult his mother, if you run out of ideas.”

“Absolutely.” Like a bar fight!

And she hugs me. I wonder… is this what it’s like to have a sister? “Good luck,” she says.

All right! This should be fun! And of course serious, I know that, but totally fun. As I start to move off to the starboard quarters and we all scatter, Rena stops me one last time. She touches my shoulder and smiles at me. “Go get ‘em,” she says. It’s nice to hear someone be proud of me, you know? To have confidence in me. I never had that from anybody before. Not even Griff or Big Z. I know Big Z believes in me, but he’s more the strong, silent type, you know? He’d never say it. And Rena hasn’t said it, either, but, I mean, she’s shown me. She cares about me. I knew I could do this, of course, but knowing that she believes in me makes it all better.

I pass Canderous on my way to the starboard quarters. He’s positioned himself by Davik’s swoop bike. “Good luck, kid,” he says as I pass him. Man, these guys, this crew, they really are my family. More than I’ve ever had before. Not that Griff neglected me or nothing. He taught me everything I know. He has his faults, sure, but I know he cares about me. Same with Big Z. We take care of each other. But it’s different with these guys. Rena, Canderous, Bastila, even Juhani and HK-47 in their own way. And they’re all counting me to rescue them. I won’t let down my family. I’m going to make these Sith wish they were never born!

I hear their armored boots clanking along the deck plating. I try not to be scared. It’s not the first time I’ve dealt with Sith troopers - they used to come around the Lower City sometimes. Plus I think they designed the armor to make that sound. It’s a really loud, metallic clank. I’ve never heard that sound from any other boots. But I don’t hear any blaster fire. Good - nobody’s hurt. Not yet, anyway. Nobody's come to see me yet. I hear the order to search the ship. Come get a piece of this.

Right when the Sith trooper opens the door, I scream and jump on him. He doesn’t even have time to raise his gun. I curse at him in Twi’leki while trying to pull his helmet off. He tries to throw me off but my legs keep a tight grip around him. It’s like a rodeo! I manage to pull his helmet off, throw it aside, and bash his head with my fists. And for him that’s the last straw. “Get off me, you mad Twi’lek!” he shouts, “I need reinforcements in here! There’s a little girl who’s gone mad!”

“Who you calling little, you nerfherder?” One of his arms comes up to grab me and I bite him through his armor. Maybe I don’t break the skin or nothing, but I totally hurt him based on his screaming! Another trooper comes in and pulls me off from behind. Big mistake! He’s obviously never grabbed a Twi’lek before - he doesn’t know to avoid the lekku! I slap him in the head with them and step on his foot. I knew this would be fun!

But that’s when the other one grabs me by my lekku and cuffs my hands behind my back. Well, that didn’t last as long as I wanted it to. The second trooper looks real mad. So I spit at him. He’s even madder now! “You little punk,” he sneers as the first one grabs his helmet back.

“Look in a mirror, you kriffing pig!" He slaps me hard across my cheek. And that really hurts! But I can’t show it. Even though I think there’s a bruise forming. I’ve been in worse fights in Javvyar’s Cantina, and I’ve had worse than a slap across my face.

“Let’s see how Admiral Karath deals with you,” the first one says as he puts cuffs on my lekku.

They shove me out into the hallway, holding their rifles at me. “Wow, guess you’re real brave with those rifles, huh?” I jibe, “What, are you compensating for something?”

“Be quiet, girl!”

“Make me!”

I can’t tell whether it’s the first or the second one, but one of them raises his rifle like he’s going to shoot me in the head. But the other one stops him. “Stand down,” he says, “She isn’t worth the paperwork. Besides, Admiral Karath wanted to question all the prisoners. We can’t do that if she’s dead, can we?” I stick my tongue out at him and he groans. “Don’t!” the other one says. And the trooper lowers his rifle. Looks like part one of this plan is going perfectly!

They escort me out of the ship and I see everyone else being led out of the hangar. There’s a silver trooper talking to a red trooper. He looks like he’s in charge. “Bastila, Carth and the crew have been taken prisoner as you ordered, commander!” the silver one says. So the red one is definitely in charge.

“Ensign!” one of the troopers behind me calls, and another trooper comes over. “Keep an eye on this one. Do not let her out of your sight.” I hiss at him, and he leans back in shock. The two troopers start to walk over to the commander.

“Excellent,” the commander says, “Have you searched the ship thoroughly? Admiral Karath warned me to be on alert for any kind of treachery.”

That's when the two troopers I tormented come in. “We found a young Twi'lek in the back,” says one, “She's got quite the mouth on her! She swore at me and spit on my uniform!”

“She pulled my helmet off and bit me through my armor!” says the other, “And you should have heard what she said about my mother! Of course, it was in Twi’leki…”

“Admiral Karath needs to teach her the proper respect for the Sith!” the first insists.

“The Admiral doesn't have time to bother with some Twi'lek girl!” the commander sneers, “Take her away to solitary confinement. I'll leave it up to you to teach her the proper respect for the Sith!”

“Yes, sir,” they both say, almost simultaneously. What dorks. They come take me back from the ensign and escort me out of the hangar.

That’s part one complete! Made them angry enough to put me in a separate cell from the others. Now I just have to get out of whatever cell they put me in, find out where they’re keeping the others, and get everybody out! Only… there will probably be a lot of Sith I’ll have to fight when I get out. And, also, sure, I’m real good and breaking into and out of stuff, but when it comes to computers, I’m not that good. But I can do this. They’re counting on me.

[ericsonclan]

A Bullheaded Danger

Summary: Marlon and Sophie and Mitch and Brody decide to get away from the ship to go on a double date. But it seems like a sea creature has other plans.

Word Count: 4341

Read on AO3:

Brody looked out at the open sea as the slow, quiet waves of it gently rocked Ol’ Kickass back and forth. They weren’t near any sort of port town. The auburn doubted they would find a port town any time soon but she could tell that the crew was getting a bit antsy about that fact. Luckily for her, Marlon had spotted a small island not far from the ship. He and Sophie immediately shared this information with Brody and Mitch, suggesting that it could be a fun, relaxing double date. Just the four of them off on their own private island, relaxing under the shade as they feasted on snacks while they talked and laughed.

It didn’t take much to convince Brody and Mitch; both of them were ready for some time away from the ship. All it would take was a quick hour rowboat ride and they would have their own private island. Of course Brody didn’t want to leave the ship unmanned with both Ruby and Clementine well into their pregnancies but Ruby had reassured her that it was okay. She told the auburn pirate that going out and getting some space from all the chaos that was the Ericson pirates would do Brody some good.

Still Brody couldn't help but worry about her two friends. The auburn turned around and leaned against the side of the ship, her gaze quickly turning up to the cloudy sky. Sophie and Marlon said they’d be able to sneak below decks and snag some food from the kitchen. Brody wasn’t sure how smoothly that would go but Sophie swore her thieving skills were sharp. “Once a street rat, always a street rat” were the words the redhead pirate said with a confident grin.

“You take that back!” AJ’s annoyed tone made Brody look over to see the twelve year old pirate frowning up at Allison. She was busy spinning around a knife in her hand and didn’t seem fazed by AJ’s tone at all.

“Can’t take back the truth,” Allison had a small smirk on her lips as she saw AJ fume. His fists curled up and he stormed towards his friend.

“My parents are stronger than yours!”

“It's not true, but believe what you want,” Allison tucked away her blade and watched in amusement as AJ huffed angrily.

“Clem and Dad are the strongest pirates!” AJ walked over towards a barrel with wooden swords that had been left out after Aasim and Ruby’s sparring match. Picking out his special sword he pointed it at Allison. “Say I’m right!”

“Why?” Allison hopped up on the side of the ship and began to lazily kick her feet. “My moms are stronger than your parents. They’re probably the strongest of the Ericson pirates.” Allison’s words ticked off AJ and he shook his head wildly, making his afro sway slightly with the movement.

“No, Prisha and Violet aren’t the strongest! Louis and Clem could beat them! A lot of the pirates could beat them! They’re not that strong!”

Those statements made Allison stop kicking her legs. A small frown formed on her lips. “Whatever, I know you’re wrong,” She looked over at AJ who held out his sword again.

“Then prove it with a match!” The younger pirate got into his fighting stance.

“Aren’t you like two? Are you even old enough to spar?” Allison’s smirk reappeared when she saw her words had gotten under AJ’s skin.

“I’m not two, I’m twelve!” AJ stomped his foot then marched over to get Allison a training sword. With a harsh toss he sent the wooden sword flying over to his friend who caught it with ease.

“A two year old, a twelve year old, either way I’m going to win,” Allison hopped down and strolled over. After a few seconds she got into her own fighting stance.

“I’m gonna prove that my parents are stronger!” AJ dashed forward and swung out his sword at Allison. The pirate sidestepped the attack before giving one of her own. AJ barely blocked it in time.

“Prisha and Violet are the strongest and I’m gonna prove it by being the better pirate,” Allison stated simply, her stoic eyes shimmered with confidence as she moved to perform her next attack. Both of the pirates got overly competitive in the fight. Allison’s patience was her friend in this fight as AJ continued to lash out with a flurry of attacks. The sounds of their wooden swords clashing against each other rang across the deck.

“Fuckin’ A!” Mitch strode up the stairs that led to the lower decks. The wind blew through his deep V white shirt. “What’s got Allison and AJ so riled up?”

“They’re fighting over whose parents are stronger,” Brody commented and was pleasantly surprised when Mitch hugged her from behind. His head lay on her shoulder and he took a deep breath.

“Sounds like something worth fighting over. Who do you think is gonna win?” Mitch’s question made his wife think for a few seconds.

“Probably Allison. She has the patience to endure a long fight,”

“Yeah, but AJ’s a tough little guy. He can kick the shit outta you if you aren’t careful,” Mitch hugged Brody tighter and felt his heart flutter as she gently brushed her thumb on top of one of his hands. “Anyway, are you excited for our double date?” “Yeah, I can’t wait,” Brody looked back at Mitch and smiled. The two shared a quick kiss before returning their attention to the fight.

Allison was carefully studying AJ’s attacks while he focused all his attention on trying to shatter her defenses. The fight lasted for a couple more minutes before Allison spotted AJ’s weak point. Patiently waiting for an opening, Allison struck, disarming the young pirate before kicking his legs out from underneath him. AJ landed with a sharp thud. “You lost,” Allison pointed the sword at AJ’s throat.

“Shit!” AJ huffed angrily before his eyes widened. “I meant shoot!”

“Uh huh,” Allison tossed her sword back into the barrel. “Either way I’m going to tell Clem,”

AJ jumped up and ran towards his friend who was busy climbing the rigging to visit her crow, Crowbar. “Don’t tell Clem!” AJ called out to Allison who looked down with a small smile.

“I won’t. I already won today,” Allison resumed her climbing and AJ began to climb after her.

“I’m gonna win next time! Just watch!”

Mitch and Brody watched for a moment before turning their attention elsewhere. Mitch gently kissed Brody’s neck which made the auburn’s face grow red. Glancing back she could see that Mitch was blushing lightly too. “How do you think Sophie and Marlon are doing with getting us the food?’ Brody leaned against the ship and intertwined her fingers with Mitch. Her heartbeat quickened when she saw Mitch’s deep V shirt before she looked back into his eyes. Mitch had a teasing look in his eyes before Brody playfully whacked his arm. “I think they’re doing fine. Soph was pretty great at snatching food when we had to steal and shit when we lived on the streets,” Mitch took a spot beside Brody and smiled softly.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Brody looked over at the stairs. Marlon and Sophie would make sure they got some good food for the double date.

Marlon could feel his panic rising as he tiptoed closer to the rolls. He glanced over at his wife who was watching the sleeping chef. Sophie gave a thumbs up to show that it was all clear and Omar wouldn’t notice. Carefully Marlon began to snatch rolls and slip them into a fishing basket they would use to store the food for the double date. The blond continue to sneak in different types of food, grabbing a few rare commodities like sliced meats and cheese. He knew how much Sophie loved a good feast.

Marlon looked over at his love who was currently trying to grab some grapes that were precariously placed beside the stool where Omar had fallen asleep. Sophie’s eyes locked with her husband who slowly shook his head no. The redheaded pirate nodded her head yes and with an excited grin she reached out for the grapes. The bowl spun around, threatening to fall onto the ground and nearly did before Sophie caught it just in time. Marlon and Sophie let out a sigh at the same time.

Omar mumbled something in his sleep and his grip on the wooden spoon he held tightened. The two pirates were silent for a few seconds. Both could feel their hearts tightening with worry that they were about to get busted. Omar was one of the last people they ever wanted to get caught by. After a few moments though the pirate chef fell back asleep and his head lolled to the side. It was a little while before they felt it was clear to move again.

Once Sophie had grabbed the grapes and a small pitcher of some sort of drink she tiptoed back over to Marlon. The two shared a victory kiss and smiled proudly. They had successfully done it. Stealing a few more quick kisses, the two laughed quietly as they snuck out of there. Their laughter grew louder as they ran through the hall of the lower deck before jogging up the steps to the upper deck.

“Mission accomplished,” Sophie declared proudly as Marlon lifted up the basket and shook it lightly. Brody and Mitch looked over at their friends with big smiles. Marlon gave Sophie a quick twirl which made Sophie smile brighter as they strolled over.

“We got rolls, cheeses, meats, grapes, and drinks. We have it all!” Marlon’s smile grew when he saw the excitement dance in Mitch and Brody’s eyes.

“Holy shit. I was half expecting for Omar to wake up from his nap and catch your asses!” Mitch led the way, his fingers intertwined with Brody’s as they walked towards the rowboat.

“He nearly did,” Sophie commented and let out a deep breath.

“I nearly shit my pants,” Marlon placed the basket into the rowboat while Mitch helped Brody onto the boat first. Marlon then helped Sophie onto the boat before accepting her hand as he hopped on. Mitch was the last to get onto the rowboat, jumping way too high and fast. His wedding ring swung this way and that around his neck while the rowboat creaked.

“Mitch!” Brody scolded her husband who looked over with an unapologetic grin before his eyes widened in shock when the ropes attached to the rowboat snapped, causing the boat to crash into the water.

The four pirates all fumbled around due to the force of the landing. Sophie was struggling to keep Marlon inside the boat. Her thumb braces shone in the sun as she gripped tightly onto her husband’s pants.

“Whoa, look at the booty I caught!” Sophie teased, causing Marlon to blush and laugh while he struggled to not let the food fall into the sea. The redhead continued to help her love back into the rowboat and the couple shared a relieved smile.

“The food survived,” Marlon’s smile grew when he saw how happy Sophie was at that fact.

“Wooo!” Sophie crowed and tilted her head back. “Guys, Marlon and the food are safe. How-” Sophie paused when she saw the scene before her. Brody’s back was on the base of the rowboat while Mitch’s hands were on either side of her face. His face was hovering over Brody’s, nearly touching her lips.

“Do you guys need us to step out of the rowboat for a minute?” Marlon’s teasing tone made Mitch and Brody both blush.

“Yeah, it a beautiful day for a dip so maybe we should just-”

“It was because the rowboat fell!” Mitch cut off Sophie who was busy sharing a grin with Marlon.

“Alright, whatever you say,” Marlon shrugged while Mitch sat up and helped his wife up who was busy trying to get her face to cool down.

“Whatever, let's just start rowing,” Mitch moved over and took one set of oars. Marlon quickly sat down and took the other. Soon they were off towards the island and to Brody and Mitch’s relief it seemed that none of the other pirates had seen what had transpired. They could never live it down if the rest had seen them. Marlon and Sophie would give them a tough time but it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as if Louis or some of the others had caught them.

Marlon and Mitch started to get competitive in seeing who could row faster, making it a speedy ride for a bit. While they were getting caught up in competition, Sophie sat beside Brody and began to talk about this and that. Soon their conversation turned to the pregnancies. “I bet you three ducats that Clem’s first kid is gonna be a girl,” Sophie leaned back and held the three coins in her hand.

“Okay, I’ll take that bet. I’m also going to bet that Ruby’s first kid is a girl.” Brody held out her three ducats.

Sophie grinned widely and inhaled sharply before spitting on her hand. “A street rat promise!” Brody stared at Sophie’s saliva covered hand. The auburn took a deep breath before spitting a copious amount of saliva on her own. The two hands whacked together, causing some saliva to go flying. Sophie shook Brody’s hand energetically. “Can’t wait to win those three ducats!”

“Ha, I’m going to be three ducats richer soon, not you!” Brody declared proudly and the two shared a laugh before Marlon spoke up.

“Hey, Soph, mind taking a turn?”

“Not at all,” Sophie carefully walked over and took her love’s spot after stealing a quick kiss. “Alright, Mitch, get ready for your ass to get kicked at rowing!”

“No way! I’m gonna row so fucking fast that I’m gonna make you look like a granny pirate!” Mitch’s grip tightened on the oars and the two street rats locked eyes. Both of them had smirks on their face before they began to row wildly. The rowboat moved forward chaotically while Brody and Marlon sat down and enjoyed the lovely day. Since Brody’s mind was still on babies, the pair began to talk about that: how chaotic it would be when the babies were born but how amazing it would be as well.

“It makes you wonder about having kids yourself,” Brody whispered towards Marlon as if she didn’t want Mitch to hear.

“Oh, are you and Mitch wanting to have kids?” Marlon whispered back.

“I know that both of us want to have kids, but I’m also nervous to ask about it right now, what with Clem and Ruby both pregnant. And I don’t know... with Mitch’s past I’m worried he’d get cold feet,” Brody fidgeted with a strand of her hair. Marlon knew what Brody was talking about. He knew that Mitch had been abandoned when he was younger in front of a chapel and had spent years searching for his mom only to end up being forced to survive on the streets.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. If anything, I think he would be overly protective of your kid. He’d make sure to stick by them and you and be strong enough to protect his family,” Marlon’s words seemed to reassure and settle down the worry in Brody’s heart.

“Yeah, you’re right. I guess I was just worrying over nothing,” Brody smiled over at Marlon who returned it before looking over at his wife. His mind began to ponder different things when suddenly Mitch yelled.

“Holy shit! Is that a fucking shark!” Mitch stood up abruptly, rocking the rowboat slightly. They were about three fourths of the way to the island. If need be they could haul ass and make it there if there really was a shark.

“It's massive!” Sophie’s eyes locked onto the sandy brown form of the shark that swam around the rowboat. It looked to be circling them again and again.

“I’ve never seen a shark like that before,” Brody’s eyes studied the shark. It looked to be a hybrid of a great white and a bull shark. It held the same sandy brown color of the bull shark but its back fins were even like a great white’s. It didn’t seem to be the right size for either breed. Instead it looked nearly twice the size of a great white.

“Everyone, hold onto the rowboat tightly!” Marlon instructed. The other three quickly listened. Marlon had been the only one so far to deal with a shark attack and live. All of them held on tightly and just in time as the shark began to ram into the rowboat. It used its giant snout to try and tip the rowboat in order to reach the pirates.

“We should grab the harpoons!” Mitch nodded over to the two harpoons that he had attached to this boat. He kicked himself internally for not checking with WIlly to see if the other harpoons had been repaired yet or not. The hotheaded pirate was quickly tossed out of his thoughts when the rowboat shook back and forth wildly. It was nearly tipping over.

The fishing basket rolled over, spilling out the contents within it. The rolls tumbled around while pieces of sliced meat plastered to the floor of the rowboat. The shark circled around and whacked into the boat once more. This time a few rolls and cheese fell into the water, submerging for a moment before being viciously eaten by the shark.

“We can’t just sitting here like ducks or we’ll be fucking shark chum soon!” Mitch let go for a second and reached out for a harpoon.

“Mitch, no!” Brody warned but it was too late. The shark attacked again and successfully tipped over the rowboat. The four pirates fell into the water and sunk into its deep depths. Mitch had been tossed further than the others and  felt the wind get knocked out of him as he struggled to recenter his focus. Suddenly he saw the shark move towards him. Its fin moved harshly in the water, cutting through like a knife. Mitch tried to swim back but it was pointless. The shark’s teeth would soon sink into his sides.

The pirate gritted his teeth and took out his dagger. With mighty kicks he swam towards the shark, ready to show him who the true beast of the sea was. The shark opened its mouth widely and Mitch dodged the bite before spinning around. He was shocked when he saw the shark was ready to attack again. He figured he would have at least a few seconds before the next attack.

Desperately Mitch held out his dagger and used it to stop the shark from fully biting down into his gut and tearing through his flesh. The shark’s pearly white teeth were scraping onto Mitch’s sides, piercing his skin and making the ocean’s clear blue water stain red with some of his lifeblood. Mitch struggled to break free from the shark’s grasp. His hand tightened on his dagger and he dug it deeply into the sea beast’s mouth. The shark’s blood began to mix with his as he fought for his life. After a few seconds his dagger had sliced through and tore out one of the shark’s teeth. This only angered the shark though as it worked harder to bite down and end the pirate’s life.

Mitch wasn’t sure how he’d survive this when all of a sudden Brody swam forward and sliced the shark’s face. The shark squirmed about and let go of Mitch for a second. Brody immediately took advantage of the moment and pulled her husband further away to safety. The shark’s small black eyes locked with the auburn; it quickly used its fins to propel itself further towards the couple.

It wouldn’t get a chance at revenge, however, as Sophie and Marlon swam towards the shark on both sides. The two pirates worked in unison, jamming the harpoons into the shark’s sides and causing the beast to angrily thrash about. The duo continued to pierce through the shark’s flesh for a moment before swimming away.

Brody signaled to Mitch and the two swam up, both gasping for air as they emerged. Mitch flicked back his wet hair and began to lead the way back to the rowboat. It would be a risky move but it was all they had. As long as Sophie and Marlon made it back to the rowboat they had a chance to row the rest of the way to the island. Mitch and Brody worked together to tip the rowboat back upright when suddenly Brody felt something  clamp down and pierce her leg. The auburn pirate let out a shaky gasp before getting pulled under water.

“Brody! You fucking piece of shit!” Mitch hissed as he dove into the water and chased after the shark who was pulling Brody further into the watery depths. Mitch grasped onto the shark’s face and began to stab it again and again. His eyes shone with determination; he was gonna free his love no matter what.

The shark wriggled around, desperate to get away from the smaller being that was harming it. Its teeth let Brody loose and she took out her sword from its scabbard and began to slash at the sea beast. A few of her hits landed while others barely missed the fearsome shark. With a sharp jab Brody embedded her sword into one of  the shark’s eyes before pulling it out and grabbing hold of her husband's hand. The couple swam up and spotted Sophie swimming alongside Marlon. His arm slowly oozed out blood, having been grazed by a shark tooth.

“Get on the boat, now!” Sophie instructed and Mitch immediately helped Brody up before making sure his friends got up there safely as well. After they were all on, Mitch grabbed hold of Marlon’s arm and got pulled up onto the boat. Mitch and Marlon both grabbed the oars and began to row with all their might. The rowboat cut through the water as the shark struggled to snap itself out of its own pain long enough to give chase.

“Holy shit! Brody, your leg!” Sophie reached over and tore off her right shirt sleeve. As Marlon and Mitch strove tirelessly to get them to the island Sophie worked to patch up Brody’s leg. After nearly fifteen minutes of frantic rowing they had reached the shore. Mitch hopped out and picked up Brody in his arms, jogging her over to safety while Marlon and Sophie worked to pull the rowboat as far as they could onto the sandy shore so the shark couldn’t damage it.

“Don’t worry, Brodes. We’re safe now,” Mitch looked down at his wife’s leg and saw that the makeshift bandage wasn’t nearly enough. Some of the injuries on her legs were still exposed. Without thinking twice Mitch took off his shirt and knelt down, gingerly wrapping it around Brody’s leg and pulling it tight enough to staunch the bleeding.

Marlon and Sophie stumbled forward both of them, falling onto the hot sand as their chests heaved. “Holy….. Fuck,” Marlon coughed sharply before returning to his rough gasps.

“We survived,” Sophie reached over and took Marlon’s hand with a weak but happy smile. Marlon returned the smile and was about to speak when something caught Brody’s attention.

“What the hell!” Brody’s eyes looked out towards the sea, her eyes large in disbelief.

The other three looked confused then followed the auburn’s gaze to see what warranted that sort of reaction. Soon the pirates’ mouths were slightly ajar as they saw an overwhelmingly huge shadow of a shark swimming towards the shark they had just faced off with. The shark that they had faced looked tiny in comparison. The giant shark swam in a circle around the smaller shark before guiding it off towards safer waters. The smaller shark moved closer to the giant shadow of the sea beast and soon the two disappeared.

“There’s no way,” Marlon mumbled.

The four pirates were silent for a moment before Mitch spoke up.

“We fought a baby shark!” Mitch couldn't believe the truth but quickly looked at the others. “No one tell the others,”

“Okay,” Brody and Marlon said at the same time.

“Whatcha gonna give me for keeping my mouth shut?” Sophie looked over mischievously at her childhood friend.

“What do you want?” Mitch frowned.

“Buy me a feast at the next port town and this secret will go to the grave with me,” Sophie offered.

Mitch thought on it for a few seconds before hocking up a large pile of saliva and spitting onto his hand. Sophie spat into her own hand and the two street rats shook hands firmly. With that Sophie fell back down onto the sandy beach.

“We should rest for a bit then head back,” Marlon shifted closer to his love.

“Yeah, probably should wait a while for the sharks to really be gone so we don't-” Brody’s focus shifted when she noticed that Mitch was shirtless. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears but Brody tried to turn the tables in her favor, casually pushing back her dripping wet hair and smiling at her love.

Mitch became overwhelmed by his wife’s smile before growing flustered when everyone began to tease him. A deep frown appeared on Mitch’s lips as he stormed over and sat behind Brody.

“Whatever, I helped save Brody’s life,” Mitch grumbled and wrapped his arms around Brody. That didn’t stop the three from continuing to tease the pirate though. Sophie laughed loudly while Marlon added in a joke here and there. Brody gave her love’s hand a few kisses but it didn't stop Mitch from throwing back his own jokes towards the other couple. The pirates quickly had forgotten about the deadly battle they had just survived and lived simply in this carefree moment.

[emmerrr]

Em, I got two for you but I’ll send them in separate asks! First, #6 for Andreil.

6: “Explain it to me again - why do we need to pretend to be married?”

sorry this one took a little longer i couldn’t decide how to tackle it, so welcome to an exy free au land where andrew and neil are roommates ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ [this is also on ao3 if you prefer]

-

Really, Neil should have known that telling a lie that specific was going to come back and bite him in the ass one day.

But it had been so convenient.

Andrew sat on the other end of the sofa, turned towards Neil, an impassive look on his face.

“Explain it to me again,” he said.

Neil sighed. “I have this thing for work on Friday. An awards thing. I’m nominated for best sport’s column or some shit, I dunno. Point is, you have to come.”

“And why do I have to come?”

Neil sighed again, and looked at his hands so he didn’t have look at Andrew. “Because they think we’re married.”

“I see,” Andrew said measuredly. “Why would they think that, exactly?”

Neil mumbled, “Because I might have…uhh, told them that we were.”

Andrew sat there in silence as he took that in, before shrugging and saying, “Yep, that’ll do it.”

Andrew had the flu when it had first happened, and Neil had begged off work early to go and look after him. He hadn’t been working at the paper for long at that point, and Seth, one of his least favourite colleagues, had snidely said, “Who’s Andrew then? Your boyfriend?”

Without missing a beat, Neil had replied, “He’s my husband, actually,” even though Andrew was his roommate (and friend) and not even remotely his husband. He’d just wanted to make Seth squirm, and it had the added bonus of getting Neil’s boss to let him leave straight away, clearly wanting to avoid Neil making a complaint against Seth.

After that, being ‘married’ to Andrew just had its perks. It got Neil out of so much overtime that he didn’t want to do, or socialising out of hours with his co-workers.

People seemed to let him off the hook for bailing a lot more if he was going home to spend time with his husband than if he was to say he was just going to hang with his roommate. It was accepted, no questions asked.

Except now it seemed to be a talking point around the office that no one had met Andrew, that Neil never brought him to any of the gatherings he did show up to, that Neil never really talked about him that much.

Then Neil got nominated for that award, and everyone just assumed Andrew would be there too.

“Oh, I don’t think he’ll be able to make it,” Neil said. The only reason he was going was because he had to; awards shows were notoriously boring.

Everyone in earshot had shot Neil sympathetic, concerned looks. “He’s not coming to an important event in his husband’s career?” Matt said, frowning.

“Sounds like a keeper,” Allison said, sarcasm dripping in her tone.

Defensiveness rose to Neil’s surface on behalf of his husband, which was ridiculous because he didn’t have a husband. Theoretically, if Andrew was his husband, Neil was sure he would go. If Neil asked him to.

“No, I mean, I’m not sure if he can get out of work,” Neil said hastily and stupidly. What was it to him if everyone thought his fake marriage was in jeopardy? “He’d love to go.”

“I’m sure he can get off work if he explains the situation,” Dan said, then smiled brightly. “So I guess we’ll see him there?”

Neil had been backed into a corner. He’d nodded weakly, and then at the end of the day had traipsed home and waited for Andrew to get home from his job at the library so he could explain the whole thing.

Andrew listened as Neil filled him in on how exactly he’d gotten them into this mess. He didn’t look annoyed, although he did look vaguely amused at certain points, which Neil was taking as a good sign.

“Sorry,” Neil finally finished. “I should…I can just tell them the truth. This isn’t your problem.”

“Makes no difference to me,” Andrew said. “I don’t mind going to your awards show.”

Neil brightened. “Really? Even though…I mean, they all think we’re married.”

“Yeah, I got that part, Neil.”

“...That doesn’t bother you?”

Andrew looked at him, unflinching. “Why would that bother me?”

Neil wasn’t going to argue if Andrew was up for it, so he shook his head. “No reason.”

Andrew showing up should be enough to get everyone at work off his back for a while, so Neil was in good spirits in the days leading up to the awards show. But he was also, to his surprise, carrying a fair amount of nervous-excited energy. Considering he really didn’t care about the award, he had to attribute it to the fact that Andrew was coming with him. It was absurd; he spent lots of time with Andrew. Why wouldn’t he? They were friends.

Best friends.

Andrew accompanying him meant that Neil didn’t have to pick his own outfit either. Andrew sorted him out in a fitted suit, navy with gold leaf detail. He wore a black shirt underneath, top two buttons undone. He never would have picked it out for himself in a million years, but he liked how he looked in it.

Andrew, for his part, was decked out in a maroon suit with a pale pink shirt. His tie was a midnight blue and adorned with constellations.

“You look good,” Neil told him honestly.

Andrew fixed Neil’s collar. His hands lingered, and he glanced into Neil’s eyes and then away. “So do you.” He stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go.”

They were the last of Neil’s office to arrive at the venue and were quickly shown to their table by an usher. They were on a table with Dan, Matt, and Allison, their seats side-by-side, name-tags in place. Andrew held his up to show Neil, bemused. It said Andrew Josten in a fancy font.

“Don’t remember agreeing to take your name,” he said.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dan said, then looked quizzically to Neil. “Then is Josten not your surname?”

“It is,” Neil said. “We’re the, uh, Josten-Minyard’s.”

Andrew’s snort was audible to no one but Neil as they took their seats. Neil made quick work of introducing Andrew to everyone, and when he finished they all sat there and beamed at Andrew expectantly.

“So, Andrew,” Matt said. “Neil never tells us anything. Where did you guys meet?”

“College,” Andrew replied. This was true.

“Bless, college sweethearts,” Dan said. “Did you know he was the one right away?”

Neil groaned and shrank lower in his chair.

“Let’s just say he grew on me,” Andrew said, which made everyone at the table laugh, but there was something in his tone that made Neil sneak a look at him. His expression hadn’t changed, but he didn’t return Neil’s look. 

A server arrived and passed out champagne, and Neil hoped the interruption would nip the line of questioning in the bud.

Unfortunately not.

“What did you notice first about him?” Allison asked. “Kid’s got killer eyes, am I right?”

“His ass,” Andrew said bluntly, and Neil choked on his champagne.

Allison cackled, and Matt thumped Neil jovially on the back. “Well there had to be something about him that piqued your interest since Neil’s such an asshole,” Allison continued, but she said it fondly, because she was an asshole too.

“Sure he is,” Andrew said, but this time he caught Neil’s gaze and held it. “That’s my favourite thing about him.”

For a few seconds, Neil let everything fade to the background and stared back at Andrew. For those seconds, they were the only people in the room, and Neil finally thought he was starting to understand something that had been right under his nose the entire time.

No, Andrew wasn’t his husband, but Andrew was his everything. Theirs was the most important relationship in Neil’s life, the one he held above all the others. It was that simple, and he couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to see it.

“Oh,” he said, and the room came rushing back in.

Thankfully, the conversation shifted, and then the awards ceremony actually started so no one asked any more intrusive questions.

Neil was barely aware of what was going on on the stage, who was winning what. He clapped when other people clapped, but his mind was buzzing. He was very aware of Andrew sitting beside him and was struck by the urge to reach out and take a hold of Andrew’s hand, just to see what he’d do. He refrained.

When it came time for Neil’s award, Dan excitedly said, “This is it!” which Neil was grateful for because he hadn’t been paying enough attention to figure that out on his own.

The nominees were announced, and Neil thought he just about managed to smile when his name was mentioned. He hadn’t been expecting to win, so it did startle him a little when he was, in fact, announced as the winner. He sat there, silently stunned, until Andrew put his hand on the back of Neil’s neck, leaned close to his ear and said, “That’s you, Neil. You won.”

He got to his feet and made his way to the stage to rapturous applause, and accepted his award. It felt heavy in his hands, and Neil let a flicker of professional pride run through his veins.

He stepped up to the podium to make his speech; impromptu, as he hadn’t prepared one. He really hadn’t anticipated winning.

“Uhh, thanks to my friends and colleagues, Dan, Matt, and Allison, you’re all giant pains in my ass but I couldn’t imagine working with anyone else. My editor, David Wymack, your constant threats to sign me up for a marathon if I miss a deadline work wonders, so a part of this belongs to you.” Good-natured laughter trickled through the crowd, and Neil sought out his table. Andrew was easy enough to pick out, but maybe that was because Neil was just always looking for him.

“Most of all,” he continued, “thank you to Andrew, for putting up with me, and for coming with me tonight. I hope you know how much I appreciate it.”

Speech over, Neil nodded once again to the crowd who began clapping again, and then he quickly departed from the stage. He didn’t sit down when he reached his table, but he put his hand on the back of Andrew’s chair and leaned down.

“You wanna get out of here?” 

“Yes,” Andrew said at once, then stood up and took Neil’s hand, leading him out of the venue.

He still hadn’t let go when they were in the parking lot heading for the car. “I should have asked,” Andrew said, looking down at their joined hands. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” Neil said. “I want you to.”

There was a pause. “Do you want me to because it helps you keep up your fake husband story, or do you just want to?”

Neil squeezed Andrew’s hand. “We’re outside, away from prying eyes, and I haven’t let go. I want to.”

They reached the car, still holding hands, and Andrew pushed Neil up against the driver’s door. His eyes flickered to Neil’s lips, intention clear, but he didn’t kiss him.

“Why now?” he asked, just a hint of frustration in his tone. “After all this time?”

“I don’t know. I just...it’s you, Andrew. You’re who I want to see at the end of the day. You’re who I want to eat breakfast with. You’re who I want to thank when I win meaningless awards.”

Andrew sighed, and pressed his forehead into Neil’s shoulder. “Took you long enough.”

“I know,” Neil said apologetically. “But I got there in the end.”

They stood there like that, fingers intertwined, Andrew so close but not close enough, and then Neil couldn’t take it anymore.

“Andrew? Can you kiss me now?”

Andrew raised his head. “Well,” he said, “I guess I am your husband after all.”

He leaned in, and the kiss was gentler than Neil expected it to be. He liked it; it was like a promise of what was to come now that they had time.

They got into the car and Andrew got them moving, heading home.

“Oh god,” Neil said when they were almost home. “How the fuck am I going to explain this? You have to marry me for real, I can’t do it, it’s too awkward.”

Andrew smiled, a small thing, but a true one.

“Buy me dinner first,” he said.

Neil smiled back; his heart felt full.

“I can do that.”