#i really like ash just give me half an hour and i could concoct a fucking Saga of character development with him in it please

[777heavengirl]

request: omg i loved your drabble with sirius and ravenclaw! reader 🥹 could you perhaps write with the same pairing when she gets really jealous and would rather die than admit it <3

note: sorry it took me a bit to get to this but yas i rlly hope you enjoy it!!! :D it was fun to write, its around 1238 words ! warnings: n/a masterlist

You glared at the back of Sirius’s head with intensity, as if the boy could feel it. His potions partner giggled and gripped his bicep at some stupid sarcastic comment he made. Sirius was brilliant at potions, yet he never paid attention. He severely lacked with the essays, but his potions were infuriatingly well done, so he always took it easy and his partner never did anything besides fawn over him. No matter who it was.

The bimbo next to him was doing that very well.

“It's rubbish isn't it?” Xenophilius, your partner, was eccentric, to say the least. Not in a bad way, normally you and him had a fun time and managed to do a good enough job, thanks to your many hours at the library, however, today was a lackluster performance. According to Slughorn, the potion was supposed to be an ‘eclectic orange!’ and yours was almost terracotta. You didn’t know what he meant by eclectic but it for sure wasn’t this.

"Yes, I suppose you could say so"

Xenophilius was in his own world half the time and certainly did not know what was going on in your class and you had been a bit preoccupied today. Watching the stupid witch cling to your boyfriend. You wouldn’t dream of admitting it to him, but it stung to watch his housemate fawn over him, you knew there was no threat— he complained about how useless she was often enough that you knew he was simply exasperated with her. But he never pushed her away, and you knew it was in an effort to vex you. So you glared and pouted behind his back. Almost as if he could feel it Sirius turned his head towards you, sending you a wink over his shoulder.

Bastard.

”Don’t worry so much Xeno,” you muttered as you both peered into your simmering cauldron, watching the marmalade-orange swirl with a grimace. He looked at you from over his thin-framed glasses, peeling his eyes with a hint of nervousness. You maintained your cool composure. “I’ll get it fixed,”

He gave a weak smile, leaning back on his stool. People were starting to bottle their concoctions, so you did the same. Giving the small vial to Xenophilius to walk up to the Slughorn’s desk. He stared at the very wrongly colored liquid in discontent and you shot him an award-winning smile.

It was tricky to get the timing right. But Sirius, as much as you loved him, was predictable. He gave his small vial to his partner, and the two fell in step with you and Xenophilius. 

“So, no explosions today?”

”That was one time, you need to let it go,” You rolled your eyes as a smirk slid onto his lips. Two weeks ago your cauldron bursted into ash, Xenophilius added one too many slices of dugbog tongue, and the entire potion immediately turned to dust. Slughorn found it quite hilarious having never seen such a thing! you were grateful the jolly man let you restart otherwise your grade would be down the gutter. Xenophilius started adding only stuff you had measured beforehand. 

“I’m just surprised such bright Ravenclaws such as yourselves managed to do such a thing” he basically giggled out the statement, enjoying the reddening of your cheeks and the way you tried to play it off. His partner, predictably so, started to try to get closer to Sirius and ended up ahead of the two of you. You gave Xenophilius a small push to do the same. As much as you liked your potions partner, your housemate was the definition of ditzy. He quickly lost balance and bumped into Sirius’s partner, the both of them dropping the vials. 

“Arresto momentum” Your wand work had been quick enough to hold them in the air just before they hit the cobblestone, and you were quick to bend down to grab them. “Here you go Hilda-“ you handed her one of the vials back.

”It’s Brenda,” 

“I really could not care less,” You smiled at her, genuinely so and Sirius couldn’t help but to bark out a laugh.

”A yes Ms Y/L/N, Mr Lovegood, I trust we had no issues today?”

Xenophilius scratched the back of his head, opening his mouth to confess that it had gone less than stellar, you quickly kicked his foot to shut him up.

”I believe we did swell professor” You handed him the vial, the now ‘eclectic’ orange potion in his hand made his eyes sparkle with delight.

“And that you did, flawless work you two” You smiled widely and shot Sirius a smirk. His smirk fell from his face as he grabbed the vial from his partner, staring at the terracotta-colored liquid. You walked away quickly, dragging Xenophilius to clean up your station waving your wand with quiet spells to get everything in order before you left.

”May I know what we just did?”

”We did stellar is what we did, on top of that I settled scores so continue telling me about these marbles of yours”

"They're called Nargles, and well basically-"

"You're a vicious minx doll, sorry Xeno-" Sirius sauntered over, shooting Xeno a small smile before turning to you with a scowl. "Have we considered you were sorted into the wrong house?"

"Whatever do you mean?" You bid Xenophilius goodbye with a wave and picked up your bag, smiling innocently at your boyfriend. Sirius, ever the gentleman, quickly snatched your bag onto his own shoulder. 

"I mean, that I know you switched them," he whispered in your ear "You should've been sorted into Slytherin," he tsk'd as he shook his head and you couldn't help but laugh. 

"Honestly Sirius, I don't know where you get these ideas, maybe you were just too distracted with Ms. Hilda over there and botched it"

"Doll, we both know I don't botch potions," he had his arm around your shoulders as you walked, his lips ghosting over your ear as he pulled you against him. "green isn't your color, don't get jealous now,"

"The last thing I'd ever be, is jealous" You laughed sarcastically, rolling your eyes. Over your dead body.

"Oh is that so?"

"Indeed," 

"Then you won't care that I have to go in later and redo it with Brenda," you couldn't help the scowl that formed on your face, brows furrowed as you asked

"I thought we were supposed to go play on the pitch with James later" He laughed and pinched your cheek with his fingers.

"You got jealous and messed up my potion, now we both have to pay the price for it doll," you pushed him off now, his laughter bouncing off of the cobblestone. 

"Goodbye Sirius!" you waved him off as you started walking, weaving through the people in the halls.

"Oh come on-" he quickly caught up to you, pulling you into his arm, halting traffic. He smushed you against his side again, not letting you fight your way out of his embrace. "I was just having a laugh love, I had enough for a second vial and gave him that one" you hummed in acknowledgment. 

"Not funny, for the record I was not jealous-"

"If you say so love," he pressed a kiss to your cheek "but for the record, there's no need to be jealous, I'm yours" You elbowed him in the ribs, a barked laugh leaving him again, a small smile gracing your face.

[deconstructivesurgery]

anyways hey i'm sleep deprived and like braindead and my brain is still just chugging over the plot point of ash being like a literal freddy krueger type urban legend in his hometown shitty corny nursery rhymes and all. like the show does it but i felt like it never really leaned Into how awful that would be enough, especially given the plot point where his dad seems to totally buy his story but was just pissed that he didn't stand up for himself instead of running away? like okay a) why would his dad believe him why would ANYONE believe the guy who from an outsider perspective would 100% register as a serial killer to everyone else (dude probably rolled back to town with a fucking chainsaw affixed to his hand, would you Not immediately assume he'd lost it) and b) why does his dad believe him specifically to create the plot point of him being a jackass who thinks ash needs to man up or whatever. PLEASE do you understand how much actual like, gut-punch fuel it could've been (while simultaneously being awfully hilarious) to hone in on that idea

like sure we see him get made Fun of we see pablo Say the "i've never seen him like this, whatever happened here must've gotten to him" out loud but the show doesn't reeeeealllly ever hit home with any attempts to bank off of that like emotional potential. the mockery also gets me a bit i think because like, with kids? yeah, that i can understand. that's like, par for the course with kids, maybe they've grown up hearing playground stories about fucking 'ashy slashy' being a big deal in town and they don't take that seriously, but you're telling me grown ass adults act like that when they think this guy, this absolute lunatic, mowed down a bunch of his friends, his own sister, and took his hand off in the process and they're just gonna be like "ooh haha look dude this guy fucking killed his friends. cringe ass. hey fuck you pal" you're telling me that he isn't percieved as a genuine threat? that people aren't at least Mildly fucking afraid of the grown ass man that they think is a demented slasher who offed 4 people at least roaming free without consequence in the streets? no? they're just gonna be snarky about it? alright man.

like this is fucking tragic that could've been a goldmine one of the reasons i like ash so much is that he genuinely, genuinely registers as the slasher rather than the final girl to anyone who wasn't present during the Event that changed his entire life and that's cool, i want to see people bank on that. wanted to see maybe like, frustration and misery and even terror over the fact that you're now forever the fucking cabin killer guy, and a world in which you can never go home not just because erm... awkward but because you are genuinely Feared as a social pariah because everyone thinks you should be in jail. i get it, the evil dead has always been aiming for camp horror comedy or whatever, but i feel compelled to say that it Should actually take itself more seriously sometimes simply because... i think it's missing out on a lot of potential when it doesn't. and i'm biased because i don't really care for the show that much admittedly, the humor's rarely that big of a hit with me and the story is... not particularly compelling to me personally. but the franchise as a whole i feel like, misses out on the chance to take advantage of what they have. you can have camp and comedy without glaring continuity errors, you can add drama and tragedy without making the entire thing a grimdark without a single funny bone- most amazing comedies take themselves seriously sometimes, or have their moments where they let a bit more heart shine through rather than repetitive snark.

liking the evil dead remotely being the creature that i am is like fundamentally hilarious because while i really enjoy some good camp i'm also a little freak who is Real bad at engaging with comedy and wants everything to turn into a grand and tragic narrative and i'm a picky bastard to boot so on one hand i'm just like heehee... ashley joanna williams... and on the other hand i'm like foaming at the mouth trying not to say something about the movies' continuity or the tv show that will make someone hit me on the head with a newspaper and tell me that i hate fun

[damnzawa]

Hi there! I just found your account and I love you writing! I was wondering if you could do a bakugou x reader fantasy au? Where prince bakugou goes to a small village in his kingdom for a pit stop while on a quest but meets the reader who's a poor butcher's daughter that doesn't know who he is and doesn't really care either but really wants to go on a quest and begs him to let her travel with him in exchange for being a chef. Thank you so much!!💞💕💗 ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾┌(★ｏ☆)┘

ANNOYING — B. KATSUKI

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry if this took a long time to be published! I went off tumblr for a while due to personal issues but now I'm back! Hope you like this!

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED (for now)

WARNINGS: Language LMAO but its Bakugo so what do we expect. Also this is not beta read!

WORD COUNT: 1955

Not everyday you have the privilage to meet the prince. The heir to the kingdom's throne. The second most respected man in the whole entire kingdom.

And not everyday you get to mistake him as a thief either.

Not that you care about his title, really. You believe that all men are created equal, regardless of their social standings, heirarchy and whatnot. Thus, you didn't really care about the prince and the royal family that much to ever know about them. Not even their faces, nor names.

So, it wasn't a surprise that it will cause you your possible demise.

You see, the day started nice. You went out to do some deliveries, met some nice people on the road who bought half of the meat your father had cut, and to top it all off the farmer was kind enough to give you extra rootcrops as a sign of gratitude to you and your father. It was a great day all in all. Until, the knights came.

Along with the explosive prince.

Murmurs began to start as you headed back to your father's stall in the market after a long day of delivery work. Even though you didn't mean to eavesdrop — it was kind of hard not to, considering how their volumes were — you caught the words: arrogant, self-centered, short-tempered. And later you found out those words described the prince.

"He must be a nincompoop then. To get such a reputation from the people in town, he must have done some... questionable things." You said to yourself. Too engrosed in your thoughts, you bumped into a red-headed knight. You bowed immediately while apologizing then excused yourself, you didn't really want to interact with knights today. All you wanted to do was cook a hearty meal for your stubborn father, read a book by the fireplace after a bath, and relax.

But all those plans seem to be quickly washed away when you saw an ash blond quietly steal from your father. You were gonna let it slide, thinking that maybe it was for a good cause.

That is until you realized, the man stole a prime cut.

As if a switch was flicked, you quickly ran towards the direction the man headed to. Spotting him from afar, you ran as fast as you can and knocked the man into the ground, shocking the people around you.

"Give it back." You sternly commanded the man. "Give back the meat you stole from my father."

The man scoffed at your 'accusations' and tried to wiggle his way free but your entire weight placed on top of his back made it hard to do so. "Let me fucking go. I have no idea what the actual fuck you are accusing me of."

"Oh shut it. I saw you with my own two eyes and I am very much sure that their vision is not impaired yet." His futile attempts at escaping now stopped as he tilted his head to see the scoundrel who had the audacity to knock him down and embarrass him infront of townspeople.

Of course it had to be a girl.

"Are you one of my admirers to go such lengths as accusing me of stealing from a commoner?" That comment made your eye twitch because first, you are certainly not an admirer of this prick. Two, you don't even know the guy! Three, who would admire this piece of work? And lastly, your father might be a 'commoner' but he's the best 'commoner' you could ever find! There wouldn't be a slab of ribs or a fine piece of steak on your plates if it weren't for him! And the way this asshole said 'commoner' with such distaste too! What a prick! Who the hell does he think he is?

"My prince!" The same red-headed knight you bumped into earlier shouted from afar. Your eyes widened for a second before turning back to the asshole beneath you who now has a smug grin on his face.

"Miss! Are you alright?" The knight asked while helping you get up. "Did the prince cause you any disturbances? Any problems?" It was your turn to plaster on a smug grin on your face. You saw his own falter which you made you more smug than before.

"Why yes actually, the prince caused me a slight inconvenience." The red-head sighed, taking a quick glance at the prince beside him — who couldn't stand due to pain. "The prince stole a priceless little thing from my father's stall earlier and I'd like for him to return it or better yet, pay for it." The prince was about to retort but the red-head beat him to it.

"I deeply apologize for the prince's action, miss. If it would make you happy and satisfied, I will pay for the items he stole. I will also ask for forgiveness on his behalf." Angry noises came from the prince's (beast) mouth as the red-headed knight did exactly what he told making you raise an eyebrow.

"Why are you doing it for him? Can't he do it himself?" It was amazing to see a knight easily convinced to do something a mere 'commoner' like you demanded, but you concluded that this red-headed fellow wasn't an ordinary knight. He seemed like the type that's fed up with the prince's antics, thus his demeanor towards people is filled with empathy and the usual knightly courage. But your words made him halt, and look at you as if you were from some otherworldly land.

You caught the knight mutter about something manly before the prince interrupted. "Hah?! I'm not gonna apologize to someone lower than me! You extra!" The knight sweat-dropped at the prince's words while you looked at him blankly. Wow, the rumors are true, he is an asshole.

"Well, Your Highness, this extra happened to be the one who cared for the rib who used to be a part of the cow that you stole just now. So, apologize and pay up. I don't care if you're the prince or not. Thievery is a crime, and you just committed it." The crowd begin to whisper, making the prince's eye twitch.

"Fine, you annoying extra! Give her whatever the fuck she wants!" And with that the prince stormed off. Leaving you and the red-haired knight behind. The crowd began to disperse, seeing as the scene just concluded and that the man of the hour was gone.

The knight turned to you once again and bowed. "I'm deeply sorry for my prince's actions. As he caused such an inconvenience and refuses to be accountable for his actions, I shall ensure to provide whatever compensation you need or want — within reason of course." Before you can respond, he introduces himself with a grin. "Ah! How silly of me! Chivalric knight, Kirishima Eijirou at your service."

"I appreciate your efforts, Sir Kirishima, but I just need the payment for the stolen goods." You replied with a smile, but soon your smile faltered. You had wanted to be a chef for so long and travel unknown lands to discover cuisine and cooking techniques you've never heard of before. Perhaps... is this the right time to do it?

You bit your lip as you contemplated. Should you grab this opportunity and run with it?

Seeing your hesitancy, Kirishima waited for your answer. "Actually... I have a request... I was wondering if it's possible?"

"I'm all ears, Miss."

...

"What is this extra doing here?!" Prince Bakugo exclaimed as he saw your annoying little face within his traveling party. Kirishima sighed as he explained the situation. You would join his party as a chef until you reach the capital where you will be training to be a chef under the great Lunch Rush. Bakugo was about to object when Kirishima shot him a look.

"Fine. But I'm not eating garbage cooked by a commoner!" You rolled your eyes at his demeanor. Are all royals like this?

As if reading your mind, Kirishima responds. "Don't worry. King Masaru and Queen Mitsuki are quite modest and kind."

"Then what happened to him?" You pointed to Bakugo.

"I heard that, you extra!" Fowl language followed that statement making the traveling party sigh. Oh boy, this is gonna be a painful journey.

After that, you said your goodbyes to your father, who was very emotional about the turn of events. "Be good and be brave, my sweet child. And ask for forgiveness from His Highness." Your brows were scrunched in confusion.

"Why must I do that? He was clearly in the wrong!"

"Ah... that slab of meat was a present from me to him. He once helped me round up the cows when his traveling party went by our house yesterday. The slab of priceless meat was a token of appreciation for his kind gesture. So, do apologize for your actions, ok?" The information you just heard astounded you, making you speechless. Guilt pooled in your stomach as you promised your father that you will apologize to the prince. And with a final promise of coming home as a renowned chef, you parted ways.

The journey started rough. The prince refused to eat anything you made at all. His stubbornness knows no bounds and his overall demeanor towards you was not pleasant, which you understood as the scene you caused was a total misunderstanding on your part. The only upside was the traveling party greatly enjoyed your meals, and some even gave you recipes from different places and suggestions of destinations that you'll surely enjoy to explore! Overall, it went smoothly.

That is, until the prince became sick.

The doctors in your traveling party asked you to concoct different meals suited to His Highness, You had to stop at a village in order to ensure Prince Bakugo's speedy recovery. And one day, you were assigned to deliver his meals to him personally.

"Prince Bakugo?" You knocked on the door, and as expected, not a response came from the prince. You sighed and slowly opened the door, cautiously stepping in so you won't wake Bakugo up or spill the contents of the bowl you held.

"Go away, you extra." He grumbled, but his rough voice was replaced with a weak ome due to his illness.

"Look, I know you won't eat my meals but you need to eat. You can't recover from this if your body doesn't have the nutrients it needs to fight back this illness." You huffed. "And... besides, consider this as my way of making up to you."

"What the heck are you talking about?"

"My father told me about it. I'm sorry for mistaking you for a thief. I tried to apologize to you on several occasions but you angrily push me away every time I do. So, I figured this might be the right timing since you know... you aren't your usual aggressive self." You scratched your nape in embarrassment. "Besides, if there's something I learned while traveling with you is that you're a big softie inside. You might act rough and is shard on the edges, you're actually kind-hearted and caring. Uh... anyways. Please make sure to eat your meal, Prince Bakugo."

Before you can exit the room, you heard him say, "Annoying extra." But the usual hostility behind those words wasn't there. You might just be assuming it or imagining it, but those words almost sounded... fond.

With a shake of your head, you left the room.

Later that day, you found the bowl to be empty and outside of his room. Along with it was a note that read, "Don't fucking tell me what to do, you annoying extra."

[sw124]

BonelyHearts Reader Insert6

{Female!ReaderXSkeleton household}

Camping! Pt.6

Well yesterday was quite the day, so much for your enjoying your ‘leisure’ day out. You ended up soaked to your very bones all because of some jerk/jerks in a speed boat. It wasn’t so much getting soaked that bothered you, it was the fact that boat came so close to hitting you and Ash; that is what made you mad…but that was yesterday. An its not like the day ended badly, when you got dry clothes on and the skeletons practically waiting on you hand and foot to be sure you were ok.

You’d be lying if you didn’t enjoy it but you reminded them that you were fine and all warm again. That an you woke up again with the same skeletons in your tent, cuddled up next to you like little darlings. Well this was your last day of camping, that meant it was ‘your’ day. The past two days were dedicated to the skeletons but now it was your turn an you had only one special thing in mind.

“Human, what exactly do you have planned. We’ve done all the trails you wanted minus the …what was it..Grandfathers duff?” Asked Nox.

“Thats ‘Grandads Bluff’ and trust me when I tell you this activity will be great for everyone. But remember we need to pack up before we head off for our last activity, when we’ve finished it we’ll be going home; everyone got that?”

They all responded with a nod, you felt giddy as you helped them pack up. You had a wonderful surprise waiting for them! Packing didn’t take long at all, you handled most of the kitchen items while Papyrus and Boss dismantled the tents. Poplar helped Russ pack up the van while the others walked around picking up any litter left behind. It didn’t take long to get cleaned up really, in less then thirty minutes dishes were clean, tents dismantled and put away, campsite cleaned up and finally the van packed. Now that was done you could take the boys on the last activity of the day!

“Ok boys its gonna ten to fifteen minute walk to our destination so no whining.” You gave a playful wink and motioned the boys to follow you.

It was kinda funny to see some of their deadpan expressions but you digressed. You lead the way towards a road, sticking close to the shoulder of course. Though there weren’t any cars on this road there were ATV’er’s driving about; but they all were polite an stuck to their own side, time to time waving at you and the skeletons. Most if not all of them were simple ‘drive through rugged terrain’ people or parents taking their kids for rides.

Like you said it didn’t take long before you reached your destination…

“…..A ski lift?” Russ tilted his head.

“Well its not used for skiing now but during the autumn its used as a ‘special tour’ option. You take the lift up the mountain to enjoy the view of the local foliage, there at the top is the local ski resort. We’re taking the long ride up so it’ll take about an hour. By the time we get there it’ll be time for lunch so we’ll stop at their cafe to eat. Then comes the best part!”

You wriggle in your boots, ready to explode with excitement.

“The best part is the tram ride down the mountain, on the way down your served the best local drinks in the area. Non-alcoholic of course, the ride down will take just about the same amount of time as getting up give or take a minute. By the time we get back down the mountain it’ll be time to start heading home, you boys ready?”

They all looked at each other before nodding, when you got to where the chairs picked up the skiers you paused…thats right you had to see who was going with who. You looked and already Nox was arguing about going first…call you impatient but you hopped into a chair an let the boys figure it out for themselves.

You turned your back…and felt the chair sweep you up then it dropped its safety bar down. You squeaked like a little mouse as it lifted you up, you turned back to see the boys were still arguing…you waited at least a minute before shouting.

“HEY! I’M ALREADY ON THE LIFT! GET THE LEAD OUT BOYS!”

You laughed as you watched some of them scramble to get on the lift, Poplar and Ash were already getting on by the time the others heard you calling for them. Now that the boys were on the lift all you had to do….was relax and enjoy the ocean of autumn colors at your feet. This truly was a great idea, you slowly watched the wind blow waves of leaves over the trees. It really did look like water, a sea of cold fire…

A sudden thought hit you….there was a few spots on the mountain where special cameras were set up. They were to take pictures of people on the ski lifts, kinda like the camera’s on amusement park rides! They did this for the skiers as something commemorative or something. Oh this was gonna be fun, you hoped you’d see it so you could take a nice photo, if not something funny to laugh at.

[A beautifully peaceful ride later]

You gingerly slide off the lift chair and walked over to a small waiting area, there were some benches and a small kiosk to get your photo. The photo you got didn’t turn out like you hoped but it was still nice, the pictures was of you looking off to the side. You recalled that moment too, you caught sight of a hawk in the distance.

You decided to wait for the boys, you saw the photo’s drop in the kiosk. Not sure if it was ok or what you decided to look. The first photo of course was of Poplar and Ash, they looked like the spitting image of a happy elderly couple. The next was Stretch and Blue, where on earth did Stretch get the Groucho glasses…heh poor Blue didn’t notice he was given the ‘bunny ear’ treatment. Next was Boss and Red who were mostly enjoying the scenery, then it was a picture of Papyrus yelling at a sleepy Sans. Finally was Nox and Russ who much like Red and Boss were just enjoying the scenery…hehe Russ looked so cute.

You slipped the photos into your pocket and went to greet them, by the time you left the little kiosk Poplar and Ash were just getting off the lift. They greeted you and sat down to wait for the others, one by one the pairs of brothers came off the lift. Once you all regrouped you headed for the resort’s cafe.

“Here it is…” you sighed happily, it didn’t have a name other then ‘cafe’ but it just oozed with charm.

Inside the floors were a deep black mahogany with plush bright red carpets, the tables, chairs and table cloths all matched. What made it so charming was each table had a small fire pit in the center where you could roast marshmallows. But since you did that already you had booked a special treat for the boys…

“Fon…due?” Asked Nox.

“Yes, Fondue is a pot of melted cheese where you dip food items into such as bread, vegetables, meat an other things. Don’t worry I’ll be ordering the vegetarian special, it comes with the local favorites! Come on lets sit, I’m starting to get a little hungry now.”

“Yes lets have lunch!” Agreed Poplar, he seemed just as excited about the fondue.

Everyone gathered at one big round table, the waitress took down orders for drinks. Mostly of coffee’s and coco’s but you chose some tea for yourself. Before long your pot of fondue was delivered and everyone proceeded to dip pieces of bread and vegetables into the melted white substance. It had a slight sharp smell but the herbs were mostly the source of it, the taste…was pure velvet. You could taste the cream and hints of butter, instantly you thought of popcorn from a movie theater the moment you took bite of asparagus dipped in the white concoction.

All the vegetables you got were roasted, including some sweet potato chips and some eggplant. This really was a great place, once you an the boys had enough and paid the bill came the tram.

You walked over to check the schedule.

“The next ride will be leaving at 11:45am guys so we got about forty minutes to enjoy the sights around here. Please pay attention to the time ok guys?”

“Got it!” They said in unison.

You smile and walk away, everyone wandered around the outside admiring the scenery. You gravitate away from the boys and wander a bit towards the railing.

Everything was so quiet…so beautiful…but was interrupted by the sound of loud voices. You look to see four men stumbling towards you, hanging off one another, even from a distance you could smell the booze. You were about to move away but they caught sight of you.

“Hey baby, you alone wanna hang (hic!) out?”

You glared. “No, I’m here with my friends now leave me alone-“ just when you turned to head for the nearby staircase to get away from these jerks one of them grabs your arm.

“Hey aren’t you that bitch thats hanging out with them skeletons? Come on hang out with some real men, we got the goods to please a woman!” Well one of them was half sober enough to recognize you for some reason.

You rip your arm away from him.

“Get away from me you filthy piece of crap!” You stepped back…

“See told you she was a bitch, an I know what we do with bitches!” Before you could do anything one of the drunks raised his foot and kicked you…you stumbled back…and took a hard tumble down the stairs behind you.

It wasn’t many stairs but enough that when you landed…you landed hard. For a moment you laid still, you were still conscious so that was good….slowly you started rising to your knee’s, you put weight on your right foot; no problems there……but the moment you tried to step on your left foot….thats when you went down again.

Your ankle felt as if someone drove a spike into the joint and was twisting it around, you let out a pained scream when you put any weight on it. You winced and looked at your hands…oh your poor hands got bruised up good that was for sure…

“Human? Human where are you?!” You looked up, you saw Nox but thankfully no sign of the drunks.

“D-Down here!” You cried…tears were streaming down your face, the pain was almost too much.

You looked up, Nox was racing down full speed. You got scared thinking he’d fall too…give him some credit he had good balance. He reached you and noticed your disheveled self.

“What happened?!” His hands hovered over you.

You sobbed. “S-some drunk guy kicked me down the st-stairs…my ankle hurts real bad Nox…”

Normally you could tolerate a little pain but this…this wasn’t little, already Nox was checking the rest of you. Your arms, head (noting the slight bruised lip you had), neck, he already saw your hands but was now focusing on your legs. When he was satisfied he checked your ankle, slowly he removed your shoe and examined your ankle. His fingertips ghosted over your ankle, flinching when he touched parts near the joint.

“….Its just bruised thankfully, hang on.” He took out his phone and after a few taps made he put the phone to his cheek….and spoke.

“Russ get Boss to my location, a pack of drunks pushed the human down a flight of stairs, she has a bruised ankle an I need someone strong enough to carry her to the Tram.”

He had just put his phone in his pocket when you heard footsteps, already you saw Boss descending the stairs. He had such a graceful step to him despite practically running down those stairs, Russ wasn’t far behind him.

“Oh god, human…” Russ looked ready to cry, you tried to put on a brave smile but it hurt to smile…

Boss waisted no time gathering you into a princess carry, with almost no effort on his part escorted back up the stairs…where a group of worried skeletons were waiting for you.

[three hours later]

This wasn’t how you wanted your camping to end….sure you got the tram ride back but it wasn’t that special ‘lets have a warm drink while watching the woods slowly go by’ kind of ride. Now you were bundled up in a blanket sitting in your room, you just finished crying when Boss walked in with a mug of ‘golden flower’ tea.

“Thanks Boss…” you whimpered as you took the cup from him.

“Now human don’t be so melodramatic, sure the trip didn’t go completely as planned but we still had fun and we got you healed up.” Said Boss crossing his arms.

“Yeah…..thats true….” The tea was the perfect temperature, you hadn’t realized you had gulped it all down…well you were thirsty. “….You know maybe I should go sit in the living room with….everyone…maybe that’ll make me feel…..better…”

You forgot..’golden flower’ tea practically knocked your butt out, you drank it when you couldn’t get to sleep at night. You swayed a bit still bundled in that thick blanket, was you imagination or did you feel Boss wrapping his arms around you?

Oh he just picked you up….you all bundled in your blanket…you felt like a newborn baby swaddled after birth. Warm, safe and loved….you snuggled against the brooding skeletons chest as he walked you out of your room.

You could hear the others having a conversation but….you didn’t care….you could hear cooing but you didn’t care….instead…your mind drifted back to the camping…

Sleeping in a tent curled up with the skeleton family, sharing s’mores and hot coco…

Your mind drifted into a dream…where all you could think about…was you…

And the loving skeletons who were always…and always would be at your side…

End.

[The ending was inspired by a drawing done by @mmhinman and again this is a reader insert dedicated to the @bonelyheartsclub ]

[alicemitch09writes]

lame

08.

where do we go from here

“Dorms, huh?”

“Yes,” nodded the green-haired boy, staring at his drink – affogato that you prepared. “it’s to ensure the safety of the students tenfold, considering the recent events.”

Nodding, eyes watched the scars on Izuku’s gentle hands – from when he was trying to figure out his quirk, trailing up to the burn he keeps hidden on his left arm – one caused by someone.

“I can imagine Auntie Inko wasn’t overboard with the idea?”

Izuku shifted in his seat, fingers stirring the straw of his drink. “She wanted me to transfer, because of how much I’ve been through…”

“I can’t blame her,” you nod again – there was USJ, and then there was this. “then again, it was something you couldn’t control and not really the school’s fault.”

“It’s what I told her, but she was adamant on keeping me safe. She’s a mom, after all.” That made you smile, Auntie Inko was really protective of Izuku ever since Uncle Hisashi worked abroad.

“A-Also, A-All Might convinced her,”

(E/c) eyes widened. “W-Wow…”

The All Might was at Izuku’s? Informing Auntie Inko of the dorm system and convincing her to have his apprentice stay at UA?

Izuku must be that special for the Symbol of Peace, his biggest idol, to keep him in UA.

“That’s amazing, Izuku.” Scoffing, you broke into an easy grin. “Isn’t that great, you get to stay in UA, got convinced to stay by the All Might, and you still have a chance to live his legacy.”

“(N-Nickname)!” With your praises, red flushes his cheeks and his arms flounder in the air, much to your amusement, before they ended up wrapped around his head protectively.

Everything changing again, huh?

With the dorms, students of UA will be granted and ensured of their safety as they’ll be living within the school’s premise. Really, they were doing so much just to give their students, future heroes, the very best that they deserve.

Still, it would be kind of lonely to have Izuku away.

Carmine eyes suddenly crossed your mind. The soft look on his face. The smell of burnt sugar. His warm rough hands.

“Neh, Izuku,” arms stretched out, head dropping down, your voice was quiet. “how is he?”

Drink long gone, he swallowed the sweet concoction down his throat, relishing in its sweetness and bitterness. He studied you for a bit, noting the glint in your eyes, how it was much different from before whenever Kacchan brought up.

Tapping his fingers, he carefully shared. “For starters, he’s safe. But somehow, he’s the same as ever.” Fingers twitched slightly at that, curling in slowly. “That much I can tell.” Brows furrowing slightly, especially when you recalled the relief in those carmine eyes, with something else.

The League of Villains.

They kidnapped Bakugou because he was top of their class, an easy target to play with considering his rather volatile streak that might bode well with villains.

“League of Villains,” you try, testing the weight of the villain group in your mouth. Izuku fell silent.

You didn’t like it. It felt dangerous, bitter, terrifying-

“I-It’s about your parents…”

Releasing a shuddering breath, you slumped into the table, forcing the numbing thoughts away. That is until a hand wrapped over yours, giving a gentle squeeze. You squeezed back, as thanks.

“(Nickname),” at the call of your name, you look up, meeting gentle green – brighter than emeralds, opals, more soothing that viridian or moss. “when you get the chance, talk to Kacchan. Okay?”

Carmine eyes crossed your mind again, the shocked expression turning gentle. Burnt sugar filling your senses. The fluttering beating of his heart.

“Little did you know, I’ve already had one.”

He hummed. “Yes, but you know what I’m talking about.” He says kindly, almost teasingly. You rolled your eyes at that.

“By the way,” recovering, you sat up, hands still in his. “you’re currently working on your ultimate move, right?” he nods “Well, need some help with that?”

Puzzled, it took about a few seconds until the questions sank. “Y-You don’t mean…!?”

Giggling, toothily grinning at your best friend, your eyes flashed yellow. “I might not look like much, but at least I can give a few pointers and wisdom. Also, I hope you’re okay with extra hours- “

“Of course! I’ll be in your care, (Nickname)!” he replies almost immediately, face filled with so much excitement to finally see you use your quirk at its full potential.

Mentally thinking of the days you’re not working, but hey, this was all for a good cause. “Looking forward to it, Izuku~”

Taking a break from work, you felt your phone vibrate, seeing a text from Izuku. 

To: (Nickname)

From: Izuku

[image.txt]

I PASSED MY PROVISIONAL LICENSE!!!!!!!!!!!

You couldn’t help the smile breaking on your lips, threatening to split your face in half from sheer joy and pride for your best friend. He did it!

All those days mastering his Shoot Style while dealing with your rather whimsical and unpredictable fighting really paid off!

  From: (Nickname)

To: Izuku

Congrats, you!

I’m so fcking proud of you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

Let’s celebrate, okay? Just drop by the café!

You were tempted to ask if Bakugou had passed as well, debating even to give him a text. Fingers tapped lighting through your contacts, scrolling to find his name, staring. Just staring.

Shaking hands fisting against his shirt, nose buried between his shoulder blades, taking in his scent- You locked your phone, exhaling through your nose as you closed your eyes.

“You’re being unfair to him, (Nickname).”

Just then an unknown number called you.

It had been All Might.

All Might.

The Symbol of Peace.

He had called you, urging you to come to the UA campus at the dead of night for something he wouldn’t enclose over the phone. The hero had managed to work things out for your entry into the premise, albeit, discreetly, since it’s past working hours after all.

“So, you’re Young Midoriya’s good friend, yes?” the said hero was tall, so freaking tall! Even in his skeletal form, he loomed over you like a skyscraper, and his voice was commanding, firm, yet kind.

Remembering he had asked you a question, you fumbled for a reply. “A-Ah, yes sir!” Still, to be in his presence was something. Now you understood why Izuku fanboys hard – there were so many emotions to contain!

“I’ve heard a great deal about you, Young Midoriya speaks very highly of you.” That made you duck your head, a fond smile on your lips. “It’s clear that it is a bond forged greatly through careful means.”

“That, it is.” It was a rather poetic way of putting it, but yeah.

“With that being said, I’m sure you’re also acquainted with Young Bakugou, right?”

You nearly tripped on your own footing, halting at that, glancing up in question. “Y-Yes…” Carmine eyes, the smell of burnt sugar, warm calloused hands, suddenly filled your senses.

“In the short time that I’ve known them, I’ve also come to an understanding that the boys have a rather complicated relationship,” you gulp, for some reason. “they’re both on equal footing, yet it’s not very evident to both of them. They balance each other out perfectly.” He’s not wrong, you thought, hands curling and uncurling into fists.

“W-What are you trying to say?”

Turning to you, you realized that you reached some sort of building – it was huge, almost spanning the size of USJ! maybe it was a training ground? – the hero’s gaze wasn’t one of All Might’s, his gaze was soft, weary, understanding, guilt, and, dare you say, hopeful?

“Those boys have the makings to be a great hero, are each other’s greatest rivals yet they can be each other’s greatest ally if only pushed right.”

That was an idea you would never have thought of, but one you refused to acknowledge.

Before you could ask, suddenly, your senses went on full blast – (e/c) eyes turning yellow.

Heavy blasts from afar. Devastation followed. Heavy breathing. The smell of fire- no, angered explosions. Fully mapping out the vicinity, you found two presence were at the heart of it all. These heartbeats. Izuku? Bakugou?

“As expected, your senses indeed sharpen at night.”

Confused, angered, you turned to him, yellow eyes glinting in the moonlight. “WHY DID YOU BRING ME HERE!?” Their breathing, it was erratic, labored, abnormal, what was happening!?

He could only stare, expression betraying nothing. “I think I need to give the young boys some time to talk before I do it myself.”

“And what am I, some spectator?”

“I’m sure there’re things you would want to say to them as well, Young Yuroichi.”

Was what he said, but walking into the battlefield, having watched two of your childhood friends going out on each other, talking with their fists, kicks, and quirks, leaving bruised and battered, you could only feel one thing – numb.

With the fight over, your two childhood friends sat back on the asphalt ground, weary and exhausted out – physically and emotionally.

“Who else knows?” asked the ash blond, head hanging low with both arms propped against his knees.

“Recovery Girl, the principal, and…”

Apparently, that was your cue to make your presence known.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, the two boys raised their heads, eyes widening at the sight of you, in their campus, dead at night, eyes still in its dangerous yellow.

“A-ARE YOU TWO FUCKING KIDDING ME!?

They flinched at the volume of your voice, as though you bellowed it with all the air in your lungs, coming out from the shadows after All Might’s speech, knowing that it wasn’t your place to be there, but after hearing Bakugou’s voice – that was pathetic of him, even the hero hadn’t expected that.

“Y-Young Yoruichi-“

“Don’t,” the hero flinched at your voice, pinning him with your stare “get me started you skeletal excuse of a hero!” you say to him angrily, bitingly, forgetting that this man was the Symbol of Peace, the greatest hero of this generation, the hero who could easily do away with you, and the greatest hero to your two asshole of childhood friends.

“(N-Nickname)…”

Giving him a warning look, deadlier under the moonlight with your yellow eyes shining, Izuku knew better than to gulp and avoid your gaze. You then turned the same look to Bakugou, whose shoulders sagged underneath your gaze, a sense of defeat washing over him. He’s already bad in your book, he might’ve worsened it in this situation.

He was walking on thin ice, treading on it really should he wish to fix it.

“A-Ah, K-Kacchan just wanted to talk s’all, (Nickname)! B-but it ended up…um, uh…” words were failing him, especially when you are at the receiving end. Unamused. Unfazed. Unrelenting. Angered. Not even All Might could help out, too scared to deal with an angry teenager. “…uh…i-it ended with our fists….?”

Izuku had been quick to his defense, much to the surprise and annoyance of the blond. But you weren’t having it.

“Stop making excuses for him, Izuku. You’re better than that.” The green-haired boy flinched, hands dropping in defeat. “He should well know to defend himself instead of beating himself down for it, which is a far cry from that proud pompous asshole we’re both familiar with.” The ash blond’s fingers twitched at your words.

Taking a deep breath, you exhaled slowly out your nose. “You two haven’t had a proper talk since and you thought of doing it now with your fucking fists and kicks? What’re you, animals!?”

Having watched their fight and taking into account the months they’ve been in UA, seeing their performance during the Sports Festival, and hearing accounts of progress from Izuku, Aizawa-san, and the Bakugous, the two clearly have changed.

After all this time, you still felt so far from the two.

After all this time, it pained you still to see a drift between your best friends.

After all this time, just seeing finally talk to each other – in the shittiest way of their own version, it was all you ever wanted.

After all this time, the only thing you wanted was for them to finally see eye-to-eye.

After all this time, you just wanted the two to be friends again.

Weakly you fell to your knees, arms reaching for both and bringing them to a hug. The two boys were stunned, to say the least.

“I’m so glad.” Tears began to spill, your hold tightening. “I was worried about you two so much, you know. You two are selfish, stubborn, and terribly reckless in your own ways, but you two are the strongest persons I know.”

Izuku can be so out of reach sometimes, especially when he’s trying to embody himself as the current One for All user.

Bakugou had always been so far from your reach, but it pains you to know that he had been feeling shitty because he didn’t know just how to deal with his emotions.

It made you feel like the worst friend.

“You have to be more honest with how you’re feeling,”

You say you wanted to support Izuku? Part of the deal was respecting his wishes when it came to a certain ash blond he’s admired next to All Might, the person who was the embodiment of victory for him, someone he’d like to catch up with.

But you let confusing emotions – like a stupid crush and hate, cloud over your judgments.

“I’m sorry if I won’t be able to understand if I’ll have to beat it outta you guys, i-if…” hiccupping, your hold slackened momentarily, before tightening. “I’m sorry if I’m such a horrible friend. I’ll try to do more, be better for you guys. So please, don’t ever forget that…okay?”

“(Nickname)…”

A tentative hand reached out, hesitant as it patted your back. Seeing as you didn’t flinch away, the hand awkwardly rubbed comforting circles as you cried harder.

Seeing this, the green-haired teen smiled, relishing in your hug, the pain from Kacchan’s attacks, and the wisdom from his mentor.

“Okay.”

All Might could only watch three youngsters settling amongst themselves, as all friends should.

“Okay, (Name).”

masterlist • nine

[whumpcollector]

Lucas Pt.8: The gladiator and the Captain

Hey everyone. Here I am, back at it again with Lucas. There’s a bit of character introduction and set up coming so hopefully ya’ll don’t mind the slower pace. Hope you all enjoy.

CW: Mentions of vomiting

Lucas knelt over a bucket, dry heaving and choking as his stomach churned. Sweat poured down his forehead, his body shaking as another wave of nausea washed over him.

“I am so sorry Lucas,” Jawad said, kneeling beside the boy and patting his back. “I didn’t think you would take to the tincture this poorly...”

Lucas tried to respond, but any attempt at speaking was shut down as another dry heave hit him. Nothing came up, what little food Lucas had in his stomach had long since been expelled. All he could do now was wait for things to pass. 

Jawad signed, walking over to his desk and picking up his journal. He scribbled in the pages, shaking his head slightly. He turned back to Lucas. “Do you at least feel like your magic has returned?”

Lucas took his head out of the bucket, holding up a shaky hand and trying to bring forth a flame. Nothing manifested and Lucas had to abandon his attempt as another wave hit him.

“I suppose that's a no then.”

It had been a couple of days since Lucas had first awoken. He had not left Jawad’s tent, the doctor insisting that Lucas remain so he could monitor his recovery. There had been no issues, by all accounts he was healing like any normal person would. Lucas didn’t know how he felt about that. It was good that nothing bad was happening, but it was also...strange. He was used to any injuries he had healing in a few hours at most. The need for bandages, the bleeding, the soreness that came from healing muscle, it all felt unnatural. 

He didn’t care to think about whether or not he would need to get used to it.

At last the nausea faded and Lucas was able to pull himself to his feet. He was still shaky, having to brace himself against the table to avoid falling over. Jawad gently grabbed onto his arm, guiding him over to the bed and letting him sit down. He handed Lucas a bowl of water, letting him rinse out his mouth. 

“Thank you.” Lucas said, bowing his head slightly. Jawad had so far not been partial to the more overt displays of submission that Captain Edwin had drilled into Lucas. Anything more than an appreciative thanks was dismissed as being ‘unnecessary’. Lucas was grateful that so far these mistakes had gone unpunished.

“No thanks needed Lucas, least of all because I just poisoned you…” Jawad trailed, flipping through his journal some more. “Hmmm, perhaps another potion might work...if only I had something more reliable than my old mentor’s theories.” He turned to Lucas. “Are you certain there is nothing you might know that could lead us in the right direction?”

Lucas thought for a moment, racking his brain before a memory stuck out. “When I was with my old masters I was given a sort of potion once. It, um, it sort of helped my magic after I had used it a lot.”

Jawad’s eyes lit up and he walked over to Lucas, sitting down next to him and focusing on him intently. “What do you remember about it? Taste, texture, smell.” 

Lucas tried to recall what he could. Everything before his time with Captain Edwin felt fuzzy, like he was trying to look at it through thick fog. “Um, it was thick...I think? Yes it was a thick liquid and…” Lucas trailed off, trying to remember anything else. “I think...it burned when I drank it.”

Jawad nodded, writing in his journal before responding. “Do you know what it was called? Or where your...old master,” he frowned at the word, “purchased it?” 

Lucas shook his head. “No.”

“Any specific taste, any...side effects of the potion?”

“N-no.”

“Do you remember what color it was?”

“It...no.”

“Did it have a particular smell?”

“It...it smelled...sweet?”

Jawad hummed to himself, flipping through the pages of his journal rapidly. After a seemingly unsuccessful search he stood up and walked over to his table, sifting through several thick tomes and other journals. Lucas watched apprehensively, shrinking back as the doctor became more and more frustrated with his search. After what must have been at least half an hour Jawad slammed the book he was holding onto the table, causing Lucas to flinch.

“Well, there are at least a dozen theoretical,” he spat the word out like it tasted of ash, “concoctions and tinctures that help restore the use of magic and share some similarities with what you described, but without any more details I can’t determine which, if any, of the ones in my records match the one you were given.” He pinched his forehead. “Much less if any of them work.”

Lucas bowed his head. “I-I’m sorry for not being of any help, a-and for wasting your time.”

Jawad sighed, walking back over to Lucas, patting the boy on his shoulder. “It's not your fault.” He turned away, crossing his arms and placing a hand on his chin. “Perhaps it's time you introduce yourself to the others in camp. From what I can tell your recovery is coming along fine, and I imagine you’d want to get out of this tent by now.”

Lucas swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. He had been dreading this, being forced to serve the others in the camp. Jawad had been easy to satisfy so far, and he was just getting used to how to address and act around him. Now he would have to learn all over again, with people likely far less forgiving than Jawad was. 

Still, it wasn’t up to him who he did and did not serve.

Jawad must have taken Lucas’s silence as agreement, which it was in a way, and beckoned Lucas to follow him out of the tent. Lucas complied, walking out from under the tent flaps and into the camp itself. He squinted at the sun, the bright light hurting his eyes after so long in relatively dim conditions. 

“Ah, Lucas. I see you are on your feet now. That is good news.”

Lucas turned to see Mehrzad approaching him, saber slung over his shoulder and helmet held at his side. He was the only person Lucas had really seen over the past few days, often bringing Jawad food or supplies he requested. He didn’t really talk to Lucas, usually only staying around long enough to drop off what he needed to and say a few parting words to his husband. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, looking Lucas up and down.”You seem a bit pale.”

“I am afraid that would be my fault.” Jawad said. “The solution I made had some...unfortunate side effects.”

Mehrzad let out a hearty laugh. “Ah, I see you’ve been on the receiving end of my dear husband’s ‘experiments’. I remember one time when he tried to brew something for stomach pain. I wa-”

“I’M certain Lucas doesn’t wish to hear the, well, gory details of that...” Jawad trailed off with a chuckle. “Why don’t you show Lucas around the camp? I need to convince Jon to let me acquire another batch of ingredients. I’m not sure what they are yet, but I don’t imagine they will be cheap.”

Jawad walked off, healing towards a large tent towards the center of camp. Lucas guessed that was where Captain Jonathon was. Lucas hoped he wouldn’t get too mad at Jawad’s request. Jawad shouldn’t have to get in trouble for his sake.

And Lucas didn’t want the doctor to have any reason to vent his frustrations. 

Mehrzad clapped Lucas on the back, causing the boy to flinch slightly.“Well, looks like you are stuck with me for a while. Come, give you the tour.”

Lucas followed dutifully behind Mehrzad as he was led through the camp, head bowed and trailing by a couple of feet. The camp was large, with close to two dozen tents standing and numerous people milling around.

“Most of the people here are temporary hires, we call them ‘temps’. They usually only stick around for a few contracts or long enough to make it to a major city before leaving. You don’t need to worry too much about getting to know them, they’ll be replaced before you can get to remembering their names.”

Lucas grimaced at that. So many different people to get used to serving properly and he’d just have to relearn everything again later. Avoiding mistakes would be impossible. He looked around at some of the passing people. All of them looked imposing. Well built, big (or at least bigger than him), and...violent. A beating from any one of them wouldn’t be fun.

He decided not to think about what it would be like if they chose to gang up.

Lucas was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t realize Mehrzad had stopped walking. The two bumped into each other and Lucas sprung back, shying away and waiting for the reprimand. Mehrzad simply stared at him, confusion on his face. After a few moments of awkward silence, Mehrzad finally spoke.

“Are you alright Lucas?”

Lucas looked up meekly, scanning Merhzad’s face for any sign of displeasure. “Um...yes I am sir. S-sorry sir.”

“Apology accepted?” He cocked his head, studying Lucas before humming to himself. “Perhaps we should rest for a moment, come sit with me.”

Mehrzad sat on a nearby fallen log, gesturing for Lucas to join him. Lucas obeyed and took a seat on the log, just close enough that he wasn’t being disrespectful but not too close for his own comfort. Mehrzad had seemed merciful thus far and Lucas felt like the man would be willing to give this one liberty. The lack of any reprimand confirmed his guess and Lucas let himself relax just a tad.

“So, Lucas, how are you feeling? You seem to be in much better shape, my husband’s experiments aside.”

“Oh. I’m feeling alright. Jawad says that my healing is going normally.” 

“That is good news.” Mehrzad reached into one of his greaves and pulled out a small dagger. Lucas tensed, eyeing the weapon warily, but the man simply began to use the tip to clean beneath his fingernails. “If you don’t mind my asking, what were you traveling with that caravan for? From what I can tell you weren’t exactly there of your own desire.” He turned to Lucas, a playful smile on his face. “Am I in the presence of some dangerous killer?”

Lucas looked down at his hands, memories of the attack flooding mind. Scenes of bloody fields and butchered corpses. He felt his throat tighten and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. The bloodstained face of Harold flashed in his eyes and Lucas shook his head harshly, banishing the image before he had the chance to think about it. 

“You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to.” Mehrzad said softly. 

Lucas’ head snapped up at Mehrzad’s words. The man had a concerned look on his face, eyebrows narrowed and lips formed into a small frown. Lucas swallowed thickly. “I was a performer for, for two of the men at the caravan.”

“A performer eh?” Mehrzad raised an eyebrow at the answer. “It's a difficult job, pleasing a crowd, isn’t it? You run yourself ragged putting on a show, put everything you have into it only for the slightest mistake to turn everyone against you.”

Lucas looked at the man taken somewhat aback. “Y-yes. It was difficult. My master Harold always made me do better after each performance.”

“Ah, yes. Always have to make it bigger, flashier, more impressive. First you’re fighting a single man, then you’re shoved into a pit filled with a dozen hyenas and given nothing more than a broken spear.” He shook his head, almost as if reminiscing. “I was a gladiator back in my homeland, a rather good one if I may say. Sometimes I can still hear the roar of the crowd in my ears.”

Lucas didn’t know if he should say anything. The two lapsed into an awkward silence as Lucas contemplated possible responses. Mehrzad coughed, fiddling with his dagger before placing it back into his greave. 

“What's it like, using magic?” 

Lucas started slightly, looking at Mehrzad and frowning. How would he describe it? 

“It...hurts.” Merhzad raised an eyebrow but didn’t commnet. “It hurts when I try to use it, like, like I'm lighting a fire inside of my body that burns me. The more I try to do, the hotter it is and if I do too much it...it hurts a lot more.” He paused, looking down at his hands and running his fingers along the leylines. “But, it also feels natural, like it's something I’m supposed to do. Without I...I feel wrong. Like, like I can’t blink or, or move my fingers.” 

Lucas sniffled. “I don’t like it.”

Lucas was crying. He hadn’t realized he was until a tear landed on the back of his hand. A shaky breath left him and he wiped at his eyes, trying to regain his composure as best he could. An arm wrapped around his shoulders and he turned to see Mehrzad looking at him sympathetically.

“I can’t imagine what that feels like, losing something so...integral to who you are.” He handed Lucas a small piece of cloth and let home clean off his face. “But don’t worry. You will get your magic back. Jawad, for all of his eccentricities, is brilliant. Whatever the solution is to your problem, he will find it. I assure you.”

Lucas nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The pair sat together as Lucas gathered himself. Close to an hour passed and Mehrzad stood up, stretching his back and gathering his gear.

“I must go, Lucas. I have a contract soon and I am to meet the others for a briefing. You take care of yourself alright?”

With that Mehrzad left, and Lucas was left alone. A sense of unease filled him. What should he do? He wasn’t given any orders or instructions. Was he just supposed to...wander around until someone told him to do something? 

Lucas stood in place for a few moments before deciding to do just that. He looked around and decided to walk towards the center of the camp. As he moved he took in his surroundings trying to notice any major landmarks he might be told to go to. As he searched he noticed a woman working at what looked like a giant cauldron. She was busy skinning what looked like a deer. A cook perhaps. 

Lucas decided to ask if she was in need of help. Kitchen work was easy and he was decent at it. He probably wouldn’t do anything that warranted punishment. 

Not that she would need a reason if she wanted to hurt him. 

He started walking towards the woman when he heard someone call out to him.

“HEY! Who the hell are you?”

Lucas turned to see a lean man walking towards him. He stood straight, bowing his head as the man approached. “Haven’t seen you around before. You a new hire?”

Lucas nodded. “Yes sir, my name is Lucas. I am here to serve at your command.”

The man released an eyebrow. “What, really?” He fiddled with the scabbard on his hip before producing a dirtied sword. “You uh, you gonna clean this then?”

Lucas deflated, so much for kitchen work. Still, an order was an order. “Of course sir, if that is what you desire.”

“Shit, well, have at it then.” He dropped the sword into Lucas’s arms. 

Lucas grasped the sword carefully, making sure to avoid the blade. He noticed the man walking away and called out after him. “Um, sir, do you know where I could find a rag?”

“Fuck if I know kid, you figure it out.”

Oh. Lucas looked down at the sword, and then at his surroundings. He didn’t see anywhere that might have something to clean with. Maybe he could ask someone. He noticed a woman walking by and tried to talk to her.

“Excuse me ma’am cou-”

“Piss off asshole, I'm not in the mood for chatter.”

She didn’t even look at him as she walked away. Lucas deflated further, looking down at the sword. He needed to get it cleaned soon. If he took too long the owner might get angry. Moving to a nearby fallen log to sit on Lucas began to rub at the sword with his shirt.

The work was slow, with most of the grime coating the blade taking considerable effort to work out. His shirt quickly became stained, with black and brown splotches dotting the area he used to wipe the blade. Just as he was about to finish a group of three other people walked up to him, dirty equipment in hand.

“Hey you, you the kid whose cleaning kit?”

Lucas looked up and nodded meekly. “Yes sir, I am here to serve at your command.”

“Damn, well here, clean this would ya?”

All three of them dumped their equipment at Lucas’ feet before walking off, leaving Lucas with a much larger workload. He sighed, his shoulder slumping at the sight of the pile. Dejectedly he placed the sword against the log he was sitting on and got to work cleaning off a breastplate.

News about his services spread throughout the camp, and before long Lucas had a barrack’s worth of arms and armor waiting for him to clean. After a few pieces Lucas just decided to strip his shirt off, using as much of the fabric as he could. It was long and exhausting work, with the last pieces being cleaned close to sundown. His arms ached from the rubbing and sweat poured down his face. As he hunched over the particularly filthy spear a shadow loomed over him. He sighed internally, something else to clean.

“Um, Lucas. What are you doing?”

Lucas looked up to see Captain Jonathon standing in front of him, eyebrows raised in confusion.

“I am cleaning this equipment, Captain Jonathan.”

“Uh-huh. Why exactly?”

“Because I was told to, Captain Jonathan.”

“Did you...want to clean all this equipment?”

“I am more than happy to serve, Captain Jonathan.”

“Uh-huuuhhh. And you are using your shirt to clean because…?

“I could not find a rag, Captain Jonathon.”

The captain looked down at him like he had sprouted a second head. Lucas squirmed under his gaze, unsure if he had done something to upset the man. 

“How...how long have you been cleaning this stuff kid?”

“Um...since midday I believe Captain Jonathon.”

The captain exhaled, placing a hand on his face and shaking his head. “Ok. For the record, don’t go around cleaning everyone's kit alright? Don’t need any of these bastards getting lazier.”

Lucas nodded, quickly dropping the weapon and starting to pull his shirt back on.

“Don’t put that thing on!” Lucas’ eyes shot up to see Jonathon staring at him like he had just stuck his hand into a fire. “It’s covered in dirt and grease, what th- Cathrai above, what's wrong with you?”

Lucas inhaled sharply, dropping the shirt and then falling to his knees, head bowed. “Im-I’m sorry Captain Jonathan. I-I did not mean to upset you.”

Lucas waited, trembling as he heard the man approach. He screwed his eyes shut, bracing himself for a blow to land. Instead he felt a hand lay gently on his shoulder, and looked up to see the captain kneeling down to look at him.

“Hey kid, it's alright. Didn’t mean to snap at you. It's been a long day for both of us. Why don’t you go get cleaned up?” He pointed towards a nearby river. “Go take a bath. I’ll get you some new clothes and make sure Annya saves you some stew.”

Lucas paused for a moment before nodding eagerly. “Yes, Captain Jonathon. Th-thank you for your kindness.”

 “No problem kid.” Jonathan stood up, taking the shirt with him and walking away. After a few steps he turned. “Oh and uh, don’t call me ‘Captain Jonathon’, all the time. I imagine it gets a bit tiring .”

“Yes Ca-, yes sir. Sorry sir.”

Jonathan nodded and walked away. Lucas watched him for a few moments before making his way towards the river. It was a fair way away from any of the tents, far enough to give some privacy. Lucas undressed himself and walked into the water. It was cold, but once he was able to wash away the muck and grime that had built up on his skin he felt much better. 

After he finished cleaning himself Lucas sank down into the water slightly, letting himself relax. When was the last time he had been allowed to bathe in private? Or without a time limit? He honestly couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter, he was allowed to now. He sank lower, resting his chin just above the waterline. He shouldn’t stay too long. He didn’t want Jonathon to think he was lazy or taking advantage of the man’s generosity. He let himself languish for another minute before pulling himself from the water. The air was cold against his wet skin but he didn’t mind. He hadn't felt this clean in...years probably.

Jonathon was sitting on a tree stump a short distance from the river. His back was to the water, a gesture that Lucas appreciated greatly. The man was carving at a piece of wood with a small knife, whistling a tune that Lucas didn’t recognize. He stopped when he heard Lucas’ footsteps, turning around and picking up a shirt he had laid across his lap. 

“You look better kid, here, new shirt for you.”

Lucas took the shirt and pulled it on. It was big, the fabric hung loosely off of his body, but it was clean and warm. “Thank you, sir.”

“No problem kid. I’ll see about getting you some nicer pants too, those things look a little thin.” 

“Thank you, sir.”

Jonathan nodded and gestured for Lucas to follow him. The two walked back to the camp, heading towards the center. Several small groups of mercenaries were sitting around a large bonfire, talking and laughing over bowls of food. Lucas saw the lady from earlier, Annya he figured, doling out stew from the cauldron, a small line forming in front of her. 

“Take a seat Lucas, I’ll go get us dinner.”

Lucas nodded and sat down on a box placed towards the fringes of the bonfire. Jonathan walked towards the lady, nodding to a few of the mercenaries he passed. Some nodded back, others offered salutes, one asked for the captain to join him and his friends at a game of dice. Jonathon declined and walked up to the cauldron, taking his place in line behind the others. 

Lucas watched him, trying to get a read on the man. He seemed well liked by most of the people in the camp. That was a good sign, well liked people don’t tend to dish out beatings for no reason. He fiddled with the collar of his shirt. It was well made, probably the nicest piece of clothing Lucas had ever worn. He was surprised it was wasted on him.  

The captain returned with two large bowls of stew, sitting next to Lucas and handing him one of them. “I had Annya give us the big bowls. Perks of being captain.” He pulled a spoon from one of his pockets and handed it to Lucas. “Eat up, you did a lot of work today. More than your share.”

Lucas took the spoon and dug into the meal. It was as good as always. He had been fortunate enough to be allowed meals every day so far, probably to help along his recovery. He hoped that things wouldn’t change too soon, though he had a sinking feeling that they would once he finished healing. 

“Annyas a blessing. Before we picked her up we didn’t have anyone who could cook. We ate what preserved crap we could carry and whatever we managed to hunt or forage.” Jonathan shook his head. “Once when we were low on supplies all we had to eat was raw grain and mushrooms for days. I don’t think I've come closer to being killed by my own men.”

The captain tilted his head back, draining the last of the broth from his bowl and placing it on the ground. He turned to Lucas, a serious expression on his face. Lucas paused, placing the bowl in his lap and waiting for the captain to speak.

Jonathan pulled out a small metal medallion shaped like a crown. “You see this? This is the emblem of the Crownsmen - that's the name of our company if you didn’t guess. Everyone who works for me has one, and it serves as a symbol of our unity and camaraderie, of our code. One very important tenant of that code is fairness, everyone pulls their fair share, no more no less.” He pocketed the medallion. “Now you aren’t a crownsman, but you are a guest in our camp, which means that applies to you too.”

Lucas gulped and bowed his head. “O-of course sir. I am more than willing to do whatever you order.”

Jonathan shook his head. “No, no. Probably could have phrased that better...” He muttered to himself quietly before turning his attention back to Lucas. “Anyways that's not what I meant. It's been less than a week since we pulled you half dead from the site of a massacre and today you spent the better part of 10 hours cleaning a barrack’s worth of kit. That is far and away beyond what I consider a fair share of work. You’re on your feet now so I’ll probably have you help around the camp a bit but any work you do comes from me. Anyone else tries to order you around you tell them to fuck off alright?”

Lucas nodded, it made sense that the captain of the camp would be the only one allowed to give him orders. At least that meant he would only need to learn how to please one person now.

“Good, now get some sleep. It’s late and you must be exhausted.” Jonathan stood up and began to walk away before turning around. “Oh, and if anyone tries to give you too much shit you let me know. I don’t tolerate infighting.”

“Yes sir, of course.”

Jonathan nodded and left. Lucas watched him for a moment before picking his bowl back up. Fatigue was starting to hit him hard and he could barely muster the energy to finish his food and walk back to Jawad's tent. It was empty, the doctor was likely taking care of something. Lucas was too tired to wonder what. He crawled into the cot he had been using and let himself drift away. 

So far, this place didn’t seem too bad.

Tags: @haro-whumps @ladygwennn @dramaticcollapse @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @brutal-nemesis @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @inpainandsuffering

[skellebonez]

Smoke, Flasks, And Unfinished Tasks: Chapter 3

AO3 Link!

Chapter 1 Link!

Chapter 2 Link!

Summary: MK starts to realize things are a bit too familiar right now, an unspoken event is revealed, and someone else realizes other things. There is a lot to unpack.

Warnings: Mild violence and smoking at the tail end.

Chapter 3: Big Words Traveler, But Can You Back Them Up

Something felt... off. That's the only way MK could describe it. Off.

It reminded him of the Calabash when he thought about it, but was it even possible? When Jin and Yin had trapped him in that weird mechanical gourd thing they had tried to make everything perfect, barring those odd earthquakes and the glitches that his mind made excuses for ignoring at the time. Really, they were actually pretty bad at their scheme and he should have picked up on it a lot sooner. This time nothing felt perfect, however, everything felt... mostly normal.

The Monkey King kicked his butt in scheduled training and then lost matches in Monkey Mech and refused to stop until he had best out of 15. Mei and Red Son seemed to be acting like normal. No earthquakes. No glitches.

But his time in the Calabash had made him more observant of his surroundings and his mistake with Macaque had made him less trusting. The fact the weather station called for rain and it had not rained? That was just odd enough to catch his attention when the weather station hadn't messed up a forecast without someone attacking it or really messing something up, something that always got local news alerts sent to their phones and would have had Mei making fun of the poor sap who messed up by now, in the entire time he had a phone.

Something didn’t just feel off. Something was off. And just in case he was right he needed to play his cards carefully. Do something that wouldn’t raise suspicion.

“Hey, Monkey King?” He smiled, knowing that his expression was just fake enough that if the other were real he would call it in an instant. He would raise his eyebrow or ask him what was up or ask him what the look was for. “We have any snacks?”

“Yeah, bud, coming right up!” He just... smiled. Stood. Walked into the kitchen.

This was not The Great Sage Equal To Heaven.

This was not his mentor.

Well... Shit.

----------

“Wait, back up,” Mei turned from where she sat at the boat wheel. “What does that even mean?”

MK had gotten her to stop before they were nearly back to the City, feeling bad they stopped in such a poor spot for Red Son but determined to talk when they were seemingly alone. He’d played along and only grown more certain in his deduction that the person they were with was not the Monkey King. The more he paid attention the more certain he was that they weren’t on Flower Fruit Mountain either.

The mountain always smelled of four things. Flowers, peaches, dirt, and the slightest undertone of molten rock and ash from close by the Flaming Mountains. The more he tried to pick up the normal scents that would hit him they just seemed... muted, somehow. Like smelling them through a mask or like they were artificial. The rock and ash was nowhere to be found at all.

And there was more. He tried so hard to remember how he got to the mountain. Logically he knew they took a boat, they had to do that. There was a boat on the shore. But that was the first thing he remembered seeing. He could not remember the boat ride over, could not remember the walk to where they docked the boat at all, could barely remember anything past leaving Pigsy’s Noodles at all. Gaps in his memory were not an every day occurrence for him (despite Pigsy teasing him about forgetting to do his job, that was not the same thing).

The only things he knew for certain were real were Mei and Red Son. He’d almost let his anxiety get the better of him, memories of summoning monster trees with his stress being the thing that made him focus long enough to test the waters.

He knew that burying his face in their hair and smelling them was weird as hell, even given their close relationship that was pushing it way too far in comfort, but given scent was the most telling sense giving him pause he had to try once Monkey King was distracted. If it had been any other situation Mei and Red Son’s disturbed and confused faces (and the muffled “what the fuck dude” from Mei) would have been hilarious, but when he could clearly smell Mei’s tea tree shampoo mixed in with the ever present scent her bike’s motor oil he was certain she was real. He was almost certain when Red tensed up and flushed when he repeated the action, but the scent of slight burning and his overly expensive coconut oil and jasmine shampoo cemented the fact he was real as well.

He’d make up for making them uncomfortable after all this was over.

“Exactly what I said, that wasn’t Monkey King,” MK repeated, looking over the horizon at the city-scape. Still no rain. No clouds. It was half an hour until sundown. “I don’t... this is going to sound crazy... but I don’t think this is real.”

His companions looked at each other in clear concern and MK knew he would finally have to come clean. “MK, wh-”

“There’s something I never told any of you. Not even Monkey King. Just... promise you’ll listen to me?”

----------

When he finished recounting the long ago misadventure he had in Jin and Yin’s Calabash he couldn’t look Mei and Red Son in their eyes. Despite knowing he probably shouldn’t he felt guilty for keeping something that important a secret.

“Oh MK... That’s why you were so preoccupied with us not being perfect,” Mei said softly, standing to envelop her friend in a sudden hug that barely shook the boat. “I’m sorry for losing my cool with you back then.I should have known something was weird when you said that.”

A shaky breathe MK didn’t know he was holding escaped, grateful that they seemed to believe him immediately.

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” MK pulled away, giving Mei an awkward smile. Red Son had moved closer, and he shot him a smile as well when he placed a hand on his shoulder. “I should have told everyone when it happened, I just... I felt..” He trailed off, looking at the rainless city again. “We can unpack that later, right now we need to see if we’re really in another Calabash or if it’s something similar. If it is Jin and Yin again they’ve really stepped up their game.”

“I don’t think so...” Red Son said thoughtfully. He bit the end of his thumb nail, pacing the boat slowly in thought. “They seemed more preoccupied with just... having fun almost, last time. They didn’t seem to have an endgame past ‘capture the Monkie Kid’. What’s the end game? Why capture all three of us?”

“Yeah...” MK sighed, looking around carefully. “I dunno.. come to think of it, it all just feels different. This time it’s a lot closer and that is really scary if I’m being honest,” MK shuddered, not comfortable with how much better it was if he was really correct. “But it isn’t 100% accurate. Everything smells dull and Monkey King wasn’t picking up on things he normally would have.”

“Is that why you smelled o-”

“Unpacking later!”

“Why don’t we do what you did to get out last time?” Red Son interrupted, looking hopeful that he had solved the problem already. “We just have to find your staff.”

“Yeah that... that’s another problem...” MK bit his lip and held his hand up to his ear. The glow that lit from it illuminated the dawning horror on his friend’s faces as the staff materialized in his hand. They both seemed to regret not watching MK train that day when they realized what this meant. “That... may not work this time.”

----------

“You’re bleedin’ delusional!” The demon couldn’t help but groan out, pacing wildly in growing frustration. Before them both was a set of screens, watching the display of the trio’s conversation. The entire room looked like something right out of one of those American spy thrillers they’d seen, computers and monitors hooked up and showing a multitude of views. “I told you, you can’t just throw that many people in at once! It doesn’t matter how improved it is, it messes up, confuses the simulation! And-and you let ‘im keep the bloody staff! He’s-”

“Not getting out any time soon,” the other demon, seated comfortably in the only chair in the room, soothed. Their words were like poisoned honey and the first demon grimaced. How they let themselves be taken in by these words... they would never forgive themselves now, not after all of this. Not after what happened to- “Patience is what you and your brother lacked the first time. They don’t need to believe it, they just need to stay in it. Come now, you need to... relax.”

The first demon, the smaller demon, backed a step away as the seated one sat up straighter. They weren’t fast enough to get away from the clawed hand that gripped their throat, cutting off their air supply and pulling them far too close to the other’s face. No fight was given, they knew what would happen if they tried, and watched anxiously as the seated demon raised their forearm long smoking pipe to their lips to take a long drag on whatever foul concoction they had in it.

“Just rest Yin.” Their open mouth revealed colored smoke, sickeningly sweet and fruity smelling, swirling around inside before they loosened the grip on his throat to blow it directly into his face as he took a hasty breath of oxygen. "Perhaps you'll be more patient after a nice long nap."

The blue demon coughed when the other finally let him go, breathing deeply in the hopes he didn’t inhale as much smoke as he feared he did. As he tipped backward onto the ground he knew that was a fruitless thought. Now he laid on the ground with his head fuzzy and gaze filled with the equally unconscious visage of his elder brother.

The Gold and Silver demons... had really messed up...

[plotscribbler]

NSFW story time:

It was a long double at my old restaurant job. I had come back to pick up a few shifts here and there to help me have some pocket money while I got on my feet in my new home some 2 hours away.

My girlfriend got a great new job in a new town and I wasn't transitioning well. I usually welcome change but it was hard to leave the team I had, not to mention shift beers. I poured myself a tall one and sat in a booth on the patio waiting for the manager to lock up and give me ok to leave for the night.

I had another double the next day so my plan was to find a decent parking spot and pass out in the van.

I told the other closer she could leave early as it was a calm night and honestly I reveled in getting even just a few minutes to chat with Cassandra (the manager) before she cuts me off the free beer. Cass is a tom-boyish burnette, who's about 5'4" or so, and her body is that of a Pixar mom: an athletic yet curvy shape with so much ass you can see it from the front.

I'm a flirtatious guy (probably how I ended up as a server in the first place) but to be quite honest it's a miracle I haven't been fired or dumped for the things I say to Cass. She probably doesn't take me seriously, I mean how else do I manage to get nights like this where we're all alone? She's having a glass of wine and I'm keeper of a never ending pint. What could go wrong?

In my typical cringe fashion I offer her a spot at my table "because she's too beautiful to be drinking alone" and she ignores that (while sitting down at my table) before going on a long winded rant about her kids stressing her out before she could even get ready for work.

Which was extra stressful because of how her cat always wakes her up at night to use the window by her bed as a way out to go do cat business.

"The only cat business anyone should have in relation to that window; is getting onto the bed, and in between your thighs"

"hah! I wish"

"Bet! Finish your wine."

"what?"

"I'll follow you home, climb through your window and be gone before sunrise"

"I have kids you idiot" she punches my shoulder "they're gonna hear you climb into the house and if not, they'd definitely hear whatever pervery you think you can concoct in the middle of a school night. Not to mention the neighbors..."

Looking out towards the parking lot Cass pulls a cigarette from her purse.

"Hey, look at me." I pause until we make eye contact "I am 100% consenting to, and capable of..." I pause to feel calm collected and cool before continuing "- tying you up, gagging you, and fucking your brains out."

We both smile "All while pretending to climb in through your window to fulfill your rape-fantasy in a safe way that avoids prying neighbors"

She take a long drag of her cig, looking back out at the parking lot.

"Well?"

With a long exhale "I didn't tell you about my window as some kind of a hint."

"Listen, whether or not you like being taken, I would be much happier to share your bed than to sleep in my van alone."

We sit in silence for a moment. Cass staring off into the distance while I drink my pint and stare at her.

Turning to face me as she ashes her cigarette "What would you even use to tie me up with anyway?"

"The wrappings of love"

"Don't be an ass" she hits my shoulder again, harder this time "what if I were considering to indulge in your lustful insistence for a moment? Huh! How about that! What if that was your chance and you blew it!?"

"Wow, the thought of giving away control, even if only for a moment, it's insidious isn't it?" I smile again "Oh... to be honest I have soft 25' rope somewhere in the van, but my belt works fine in a pinch, might use both if you keep throwing punches at me."

"Honestly, you talk a lot of shit and the thought of humiliating you, if you can't follow through with half the nonsense that comes out of your perverted mouth, is insidious." She finishes her wine "come on!" she stands up.

"Let's go!" I cheer.

"We're not going to my house"

"Oh?"

"No, I'm not taking you home. Show me this rope"

"Alright"

We walk over to the van, in a particularly shady corner of the lot, the back half of said van is packed almost ceiling high with my music equipment I forgot to unload during the move. Part of me is thinking she's gonna troll me, so I try to make like of the situation.

"I'm not gonna tie you up in the parking lot"

"Duh, I just wanna see it."

"You're testing me? We've known each other for 4 years... I'm not a stranger!"

"No, but you say a lot of bullshit, let's say I'm just fact-checking you right now..."

I dig through the music gear in the back (knowing it's not there) "looks like you're in luck, I couldn't tie you up if I wanted to..."

"ugh, see..."

"See what? It's not like you'd consent if I did have it!"

"If you could find the rope I would let you tie my hands behind my back, but you mysteriously can't" Cass says, crossing her arms defiantly.

"You would let me rope your arms behind your back?"

"Sure! Why not? Maybe I will like it!"

"Ok, let me look in the secret hiding spot behind the driver seat." I close the hatch and open up the sliding door. There's a panel on the floor and when I open it Cass gasps.

"Gotcha!" I exclaim.

"Ok, yeah, you got me" she turns her back to me and stretches her arms out behind her. "Tie me up"

"Turn around."

"What?"

"You're not a prisoner of war, this is an intimate thing."

I close the sliding door as Cass faces me.

"Intimate? How-"

"Shhh..." I put a finger to her lips as her chocolate irises lock with my hazel ones "I'm going to take control of you now. Just say ok."

"Ok fi-oh!" she gasps as I grab her by the hips and put her up against the door of the van.

I steal the first kiss on her lips then break away, pressing her against the car with my hand on her chest. Lifting the rope over her shoulder with a flick of my other wrist I see her uncertainty.

"Be still. Do nothing unless I say so, you are perfect."

Cass' eyes light up like she'd never heard that before, like I just opened more possibility than even she knew was available.

I turn her around, pressing my hips against hers, making the rope loops over her shoulder and behind her back then mirroring this over her other shoulder.

"I thought you were going to tie my hands?"

"I'll get there" as I start to lace a knotting pattern from her left arm to her right and back again. Slowly bringing her elbows parallel to each other.

"By the time your wrists are bound you will be ensnared... all mine!" I say with a smirk "I am here to take good care of you."

"Ok, actually this does feel pretty nice, my back needed a stretch anyway..."

"I want you to let go of the control you assume day in and day out and be free. Be mine."

"You're not gonna make me call you daddy are you?"

"No, to be honest, I like being called master or god, because I have an ego that is spoiled rotten, but I wouldn't want something like this to make our work relationship impossible"

"Oh my, that's tight, will you take a picture when you're done? I wanna see."

"Just relax." as I pull her wrists together and tie the final knot "You're all tied up"

I snap a picture with my phone and lean into her from behind to show her.

"Wow this posture really forces my boobs up and out, not that you can see it from this angle"

"Yes, you look incredibly beautiful"

She grabs at my jeans "what are you gonna do now?" Grinding her butt against me.

I pin her to the van with my chest against her arms and whisper in her ear "the way you're tied up right here" rubbing her arm "is the same way I'm tied up in this parking lot." I can't help but bite her ear and smell her thick espresso colored hair "I want your lust, I want your body, and I want dominion over you"

I run my hands from the loops over her shoulders to the small space of skin on her forearms.

"Fuck...." she says with bated breath "Take me"

I wanted to tease her more, but I honestly didn't expect to get this far in even my wildest of fantasies.

Cass was already pulling at my belt, even with her hands bound behind her back she couldn't help but fight to have things her way.

"No" I push her against the van so she can't reach "You're mine right now, you do as I say."

Cass moans with mixed frustration and enjoyment, then she flips her hair into my face "why don't you make me?" wiggling that wonderfully voluptuous backside tauntingly with a wink and smile.

I know what she wanted.

So I spanked her...

This woman has so much ass, her hands weren't even a little bit in the way. I took a handful with the first smack and it was like holding the holy grail.

She cooed, making fists doomed to dangle helplessly amidst an array of slaps on her butt.

"You."

**smack**

"Honestly."

**whip**

"Thought."

**whack**

"That I."

**pop**

"Would just fuck you in this parking lot??" **crack**

"YES!" her voice echoes out in the otherwise quiet and empty space.

We both pause to appreciate the possibility of someone hearing us. I take that moment to unbuckle my belt.

"Fine, I will."

"Do you have a condom?"

"What, you mean you don't want another kid?"

"Don't even joke about that."

I'm pulling her leggings down to her ankles "I only have two packs of 3" then I'm kissing the back of her calf, up her thigh, around a pinkish red handprint, then over to her waist "so I might need a couple more if you don't mind waiting here for me"

"With my arms tied and my pale ass out for the whole wide world to see? No thanks"

"It's decently red now" my jeans fall to the floor

"I know! God..." she inhales when I feel how wet she is "I did not expect you to spank me so hard"

"You liked it" I put my dick up to her hands, letting her get an idea of what I'm going to put inside her.

"I loved it." Cass puts her bodyweight against the van, poking her ass out and spreading her legs.

I thrust along the lips of her dripping pussy while she whispers to me "will you please put a condom on already?"

I smack her clit a couple times with the tip just to hear her groan and clench her eyes shut tight.

"Put. A. Condom. On!" she growls at me impatiently before biting her lower lip.

Seeing my manager like this is giving my life new meaning. I open the driver's door to pull out one of the afore mentioned packs and put one on, leaving the rest on the roof of the van.

The secret ingredient is definitely the crime of it all. I've been shamelessly hitting on my manager since we met, and now I can't help but take my sweet ass time sliding up inside Cassandra on the edge of the parking lot outside of our job.

I always imagined a hotel room or her kitchen, never outside! Not to mention she wanted to get tied up and spanked first! *chef's kiss*

The way she gasps as I push in every inch I have for the first time gives me goosebumps. Her body feels like caramel tastes: you can't quite get enough, but almost can.

I grab her waist on both sides, feeling for that V line at the top of her wonderfully thick thighs.

"Let's start real slow beautiful" I pull back just as patiently, leaving only the tip still inside.

"I love it when you call me beautiful, I don't always feel that way..." she says, gyrating her hips towards me, making me feel like I could already explode!

Wrapping one arm around her belly and sliding the other all the way up her body to take hold of her cappuccino hair "I'm gonna love every illustrious inch of you"

I pin her against the van again, forcing her to take my love at my slow pace but it's like she can't help but push back.

Cassandra quivers with pleasure when I rub her neck. Her eyes widen with worry yet her toes curl so hard they crack when I give her neck a squeeze. "Why are you so goddamned amazing!?" she asks aloud between gasps of air and kisses.

That sends me over the top! "Fuck, ...fuck I'm coming!"

"Oh... see, it's good you have more condoms."

Still thrusting out of a burning

desire to not let this moment end "Here, I'm gonna untie you before I put another one on."

"Already?"

"Yeah, I don't want you to lose circulation"

"No, that's fine, I mean you're already putting another condom on?"

"No way am I done after just 1... did you even come yet?"

"No but I'm pretty close"

"Ok then, get in and lay down" I gesture to the middle seats of the van.

[samanthaxreed]

                                               SOLO THREAD

Locale: Sam’s apartment / Oceanside Cemetery

Mentioned: @fireinhislungs, @gracetaylorwilliams, @jessexmarino​, @naomixjones​

Dinner with her father went off with only a few conversational lulls, far less awkward than anticipated and yet not completely fluid. Like two people rowing a canoe at different speeds, both attempting to turn it in the same direction without being fully in sync. It would come with time Sam supposed and as she began cleaning dishes, bright hues caught sight of her father throwing a cursory examination of the window latches before shifting attention to the folded sweater on her couch. “Are you holding that for somebody?”

It took everything in her not to snort. “Real subtle... It doesn’t belong to some secret lover if that’s what you’re getting at.”

His chagrin at being caught was palpable enough to soften Sam’s raised brow, almost lingering on the edge of amused before he continued. “I worry about you living in this place alone, Samantha. No roommate, no boyfriend, or... girlfriend?” The blonde visibly winced then, hands resuming the task at hand to avoid discussing something so personal with a person she truly didn’t know well at all. Her father, still a near stranger. “Look, take it from me that too much alone time drives you a little nuts and it’s probably safer in numbers around here.”

The audacity to gently lecture as if his brand of advice mattered in the grand scheme when he never deemed it necessary until now. A measured swallow and breath came before she pivoted features to address him in a way that wouldn’t entirely nuke their still rather tepid relationship. The pair lingered a hair away from disaster and the only indication she managed to give was a firm warning. “Dad, I know what you’re trying to say, but I can take care of myself. I’m doing just fine and you’re forgetting that I literally lived here at one point.” With him and her mother, ironically enough. Apparently Oceanside had been worth settling in during her formative years, but once she could choose for herself it no longer suited the narrative.

“You always did have your mother’s stubbornness.” That, at least, managed to ring true and she might have been able to ignore that comment with a scoff or quick humor picked up from his side, but her father always prodded the right button. “I’m trying to keep you safe, okay?” Definitely a hothead like her abrasive mother because the knife she’d been wiping down tightened within Sam’s slender grasp. Hell of a time to start giving a shit, but she digressed. “Because Oceanside isn’t how you remember it and ignoring that fact’s gonna get you hurt if you don’t pay attention... I understand if it brings you comfort being here, but it’s not the same.”

The sharp utensil she had been cleaning finally clattered against metal as it hit the base of her sink, dropped in frustration because it wasn’t his business. None of it. He surrendered that right when the ink dried on her custody papers; parental claim relinquished unequivocally. “I’m not blind. I can fucking see that it’s worse and I’m not walking around the city with rose colored glasses.” Quite the opposite, suffocating every blossom of nostalgia before it could spring out of the dirt... Or ash, depending upon how one looked at it. “The whole me getting poisoned thing shot that down right out of the gate, but I’m not just–– I’m not giving up on this and lots of people I care about live here.” She swallowed against the vulnerability, choking it down like a bad tequila shot. “Which means there’s something worth sticking around for, so if you’re trying to talk me out of it then go ahead and call up Fletcher. Let him tell you how well that worked out the last time somebody tried.” 

“Take it easy,” he cautioned with infuriating ease against her rising temper. “I’m only trying to look out for your best interest. If something happened to you, I wouldn’t forgive myself.” The chuckle she gave in response lacked both humor and warmth, practically bewildered at his entire savior complex... And bitter, so unfathomably jaded at this ill conceived timing. Too little, too late. “Yeah, well, you’ve been asleep on the job for twenty-eight years so it’s convenient that you woke up to do it now.”

That must have cut deep because her father maneuvered out of the kitchen doorway, hands raised defensively as if she were still holding the knife. It sort of felt like that, but her tongue became the barb instead. Stabbing repeatedly when he hardly deserved it, angered more at unseen and unresolved forces. “I know I wasn’t always as involved as I could have been, but I did raise you––”

“You didn’t raise me, you avoided me because it was easier to spend time at the casino than come home to the life you picked out. And before you start accusing me of favoritism, Mom didn’t do shit either. You want to talk about romanticizing the past? Take a look in the fucking mirror.” Fists clenched against her side were blanched white at the knuckles, three decades of resentment spilling out in verbal blows that Sam knew she couldn’t take back. Nor did she want to, not tonight. “The Williams raised me. And when they were gone, I raised myself and I did a damn good job at it.” 

Some part of her would regret this moment later when his features came to mind, the shame and clear heartbreak written across them undeniable. “I didn’t realize that’s how you felt.” They had backed up fully into her living room, or perhaps she simply cornered her father with truthful criticisms when he’d only wanted to help. So much for repairing their relationship. “Yeah, well... I ruined your lives so I guess it’s only fitting that you ruined mine.” Arms crossed protectively over her middle, both avoiding one another’s gaze out of mutual hurt and then she heard the door unlock. 

“I wish you hadn’t come back here, Samantha.” 

While sounding bad on the surface, she knew full well it was meant as a last olive branch and proof that he loved her despite the vitriol, but Sam’s throat had tightened too far to respond. He slipped out into the evening air and despite how she wished to move, or scream, or burst into a thousand shards to match her internal schism, both feet remained firmly planted for several minutes. 

Then she darted across to her purse, snatching it up along with the sweater draped along the back of her sofa. No phone, she didn’t need to talk anymore. At least no one listed in there.

–––––

One bottle of some cheap rosé from the grocery store later and she was back on the road, navigating some vaguely familiar route down the coast. GPS wound up becoming necessary at some point much to her embarrassment, but twelve years away wasn’t nothing and darkness made fools of everyone. Her car pulled into the cemetery parking lot and for a minute she simply sat with the engine idled, replaying pieces of their conversation in her mind. Not just with her father, but Fletcher, Grace, Jesse, Naomi... People who existed in her former life that now began slotting into this new, convoluted one. 

The gate’s lock was either open already or rusted by the sea air, but it hardly mattered because Sam entered without much barrier. Weaving through headstones, she discovered that the path to her destination sprouted from memory which was altered by nighttime shadows and the fickle mistress of time. After getting turned around once, she eventually made it and settled into a small plot of grass, unscrewing the lid of her bottle and toasting in mock cheers to her company.

                        In Loving Memory of Brooke Williams

The sight alone was enough to tighten something imperceptible within her chest, washed away by the peachy drink and a half-hearted joke. “Sorry for sitting on you, but that should be nothing new. Kick me off if you hate it.” Talking to a ghost as if the long deceased girl were able to hear felt stupid on about three hundred levels, but Sam hadn’t been granted the privilege of catching up for so long. And after arguing with her parent, she just needed her best friend and other half. 

“I think that maybe... everything in my life is temporary now,” she admitted to the silence. “And sometimes I can even convince myself that I’m okay with it. Never attaching myself to anybody or anything.” Mostly through her own design, sabotaging any concept of permanence before it, too, could be ripped away without warning. A self preservation measure concocted when she was far too young; no kid should delve so far into their own fear that they only knew how to run. “Except here. I feel like I keep circling back to this place and these people... And you. Always you.” For someone who only an hour previous claimed to raise herself, she truly did an immaculate job at creating an adult who wound up successful, capable, and so unbearably alone.

Maybe she should have called Fletcher instead, the thought interjected itself and became quickly dismissed. Hadn’t enough trouble been thrust upon his shoulders? And Grace’s? Stripped of their entire family in the course of a single night, tossed into a system which spat them back out, and molded to fit a world that clearly didn’t give a shit. The last thing either one needed was a reminder walking back through their door, but she had with such unfathomable selfishness. Perhaps guilt brewed in the pit of her stomach over how she treated her father tonight or that continuous fear of making the wrong move, but uncertainty brought the rim to parted lips once more.

“I’m not sure what I’m doing anymore, B.” It was easier to draw honesty from her bones out here, less like pulling water from a stone with only a bottle and the faint ocean breeze answering back. Rather than eerie or unsettling, the dim light provided a quiet comfort of remaining unseen in the midst of such raw admittance. “I don’t think I belong in this city like I used to, but I’m scared––” There was that thickness in the far reaches of her throat again. “I’m afraid that if I don’t belong in Oceanside then I don’t really belong anywhere. So what the hell do I do?”

She had belonged once, in a flickering memory of happiness that remained pure despite life’s valiant attempts to extinguish it. Friendship bracelets with her name misspelled on accident. Brooke telling Fletcher he could only join their pillow fort if he killed the spider inside. Grace’s laughter from beneath the hood of an old car as she threw a grease laden rag at Mr. Williams. They were supposed to grow old together, buy houses on the same street, live out impossibly normal lives. So beautifully mundane in their cookie cutter regularity. Even after the worst overtook them, she had been naïve enough to believe in some echo of that future; a broken shell, but enough to keep her head above water.

In that alternate time, Grace taught her to drive manual and took Sam to get her license, the pair bonding in a way that she only dreamed of as a child who idolized the eldest Williams beyond words. She would have thanked the brunette for being the only stable adult in her life and the only one worth counting on. In that alternate timeline, she got Fletcher trashed on his twenty-first birthday and sat on the bathroom floor with him all night in apology. She would have told him the truth at some point, even if he didn’t reciprocate. So many what if’s that were robbed before they even began and now she grasped at smoke, unable to hold it between desperate fingers. Why couldn’t she just let things go like a well adjusted person? Why did she leave claw marks etched into every memory?

More wine, but this time it tasted distinctly of saltwater as the wind brushed over damp cheeks.

[missingartist]

The Witcher’s Mate Chapter 18 Part one

Yennefer was angry, more than angry. She felt betrayed and usurped. A woman that Geralt had hardly known for more than a couple of months had replaced the mage in his heart. Yennefer’s lips still burnt from their kiss is not the normal pleasant way, the way that used to send shivers of pleasure down her spine and spread warmth around her core. Instead only bitter filled her, his lips felt cold and dead against hers, unmoving and unresponsive to her. Violet eyes stared down at the book in her hands, cracked open to the well-read passage on Witcher’s Mate, angry tears well up in the corner of her eyes. Igniting the book in her hands, she watched in glee as the pristine book turned to ashes before her very eyes, as the fine aches trickled onto the marble floor. Glancing across the table she snatched up the burgundy book and marched around the table intent on throwing the book into the roaring fire, the meagre book not worth the small amount of magic to incinerate it when her eye caught a glimpse of a page. The squiggled writing was not what she expected to see, she knew exactly what the writing was, but it was the drawing itself halted her breath in her chest. Eyes darted around, Geralt paced from one side of the fire to the other for the best part of an hour, Triss trying to pacify the tetchy man who growled and fidgeted as he cast a longingly look to the stairs. Yennefer knew Geralt; she could tell he was using his Witcher senses to hone on the girl, to listen to her. Neither of them was paying any attention to her, and Ciri had wondered off with Jaskier to tend to the creature. Slowly, she slid the book into the folds of her dress; her need was greater than some man stealing slip of a girl.

‘Geralt it will be fine just let her have a moment.’ Triss tried pushing herself in front of the mass of muscles as the white-haired man stalked toward the stairs.

‘She is injured; she needs me.’ Geralt panted, eyes wild as he zoned in on the stairwell.

Triss tried to hold his eyes that were almost completely black with a thin circle of gold surrounding them. ‘She will be fine, Ciri and Jaskier are with her. I will go check on her, but I need to know you're not going to do something stupid like burst in and go all possessive on her.’ Triss bite out eyeing the other mage who rolled her eyes as she talked.

‘Hmmmmm’

‘Don’t worry, Triss; I am sure she will enjoy being dragged away. Sluts like her usually do.’ Yennefer growled, brushing her hair over her shoulder, wafting the scent of lilac and gooseberries into the air, she watched eagerly as Geralt nose twitched. Her face fell when his features twisted in disgust, his eyes never leaving the stairwell.

‘Look who’s talking….’ Triss snapped sending a death glare at her friend, who only responded in a sneer.

Triss turned back, wearily watched as Geralt agonised where he stood, he looked longingly at the stairwell. His healthy glow from this morning was all but distinguished, and the sullen pallor replaced it. Triss followed her hands to where they laid against his chest, the skin underneath them, even though shield by a thick tunic top, was on fire. Frowning, she looked to the ashes that danced on the polished floor, where the book had been destroyed not half a minute ago—bloody Yennefer.

A thin sheer had broken out against his forehead, and his body shook in mild tremors. A wave of nausea washed over him, forcing Geralt to sink onto one of the benches and the purple-eyed mage watched closely. Violet iris roamed over his worn face as he began to shake violently. The bronze hulk seemed to shrink before her very eyes, become a wreak who shivered the warm summer air like a sickly new-born babe.

‘Did you really have to burn the book? Without that, we have no idea what to do now?’ Triss growled as she summoned a cooling flannel to his forehead.

Yennefer took a step closer as observed the scene before her. It was the first chance she had to really look at her former beau. Geralt was still the magnificent figure of manhood, tall and broad, tone bronze muscle peeking out from underneath his tunic and naked forearms. But the lustre had gone from his skin; the glowing skin was now dull and pasty. His cheeks seemed hollow and grey circle lightly graced beneath his eyes that burnt like molten lava, given him a frantic feral look. The Witcher’s frame hummed with an energy that she had never felt before, both primitive and powerful, the type you caught a glimpse at in the ancient ruins long forgotten by man.

‘What wrong? He’s burning up.’ Yennefer damned as she reached out, pressing her palm to his cheek. Hurt rocked her heart as he recoiled, snapping his head away.

‘Geralt…did you started the claiming last night? Did you tell her’ Triss whispered softly, pressing her fingertips to his throat, as the pulse speeded quicker and quicker.

Geralt shook his head and simply grunted batting her hand away.

‘You didn’t tell about her! Geralt for someone so old you are such a fucking idiot. No wonder she ran off. Gods I need to…’ Triss tittered on her feet, glancing between the two.

‘Yennefer come here’ Triss scowled and pushed the mage into the workshop off the room.

‘I know you are beyond pissed off. But for 5 minutes you need can you please stop. If you want to be pissed at someone be pissed at me. I elaborated a whole scheme to push them together. You should have fucking seen him all noble and broody trying to do the right thing and not bond with her, even though it was killing him. And Adva…. the poor girl don’t get me started on what a number Cersi did to her. And I thought the mind fuck Tissaia did on you was bad. Yen, if you had seen what not completing the bond was doing to Geralt, you would have done that same. You need to bring down his temperature, or he will go into shock. I tried Exismo, but he seems to build up an immunity, and with this Witcher's ability, I am not sure what else to give him. I know you are hurt, and I understand, but they have a soul bond so powerful in cancelled out the Jinns magic Please just stop trying to kill everyone for five minutes. I swear if you do anything else to mess this up, then you already have I will never talk to you again.’

Yennefer felt a deep pang of something in her; her best friend seemed determined on the pairing that she had cast her aside. For the doorway, she observed Geralt, a sweaty hunched figure, pushing out a puff of air. Her hand traced the outline of the book she had hidden in her dress. Not for one second did she trust the girl, but she was intrigued. If this were a soul bond, the energy it would create would be phenomenal, as documentation on it was rare, to say the least. It could be useful, and she had nothing better to do but sit back and let the plan of the little creature unfold.

Picking up a large bowl and armful of herbs she swayed over to the polished mahogany table. Pulling the tops of pots with a snap, she deposited as dash, a handful and a sprinkle into the bowl. The bright petals and herbs mixed to do a dry mulch. Adding elven wine to the mixture, she mixed till the concoction was a watery mess of mashed up leaves. Waving a caramel hand over the mortar, concentrating as the liquid simmered and boiled, concentrating as the mixture bubbled into a tar-like gum.

Swaying over she sat beside him, not close enough that they touched, but close enough she could feel the unspent energy spill from him, it was unbearably, the heat prinked her skin till it began to sweat itself. Shimmering back, she winced, a piteous look cast against her old lover.

‘Why didn’t you come to me with this.’ Yennefer’s tone softened, as she wiped the thick substance into his skin in the signs of runes.

‘I think you have just proved why Yen. Besides last time we spoke, you screamed that you never wanted to see me again.’ Geralt scoffed, a sheen of sweat began to form at the top of his forehead down the base of his throat and disappearing down below his tunic neckline.

Purple eyes are taking movement ever as the heavy mixture turned a pale blue as it fought against the heat. Yennefer smiled as the sweat began to stop and dry against his features. Carefully she did the same with his collar bones and then his forearms. Not before long, every inch of exposed skin was covered in blue runes. Still, it took 20 or 30 minutes for the Witcher’s temperature to return to normal, but Yennefer looked on in concern as the Witcher grunted and gruffed in pain.

‘I felt our spell bond break…I thought you had finally found a Jinn to remove the spell; then I started hearing tales about the Witcher’s Wife.’ Yennefer glowered quickly, moving to grip his face to turn him completely to her.

‘I am sorry.’

‘Is sorry all you have to say.’ Yennefer choked out; tears welled up in her eyes. ‘Is that all that I meant to you?’

‘Yen…I didn’t mean for this. I did not believe it at first but…. I don’t want to fight it anymore. Please.’ Geralt rasped out weakly, reaching out his hand to grasp hers. Purple and gold eyes met, and the purple erupted in a blaze of pain. Yennefer glared at his hand, wavering from tears to rage, fat tears lined her eyes as she stared at his hand. Gripping his hand with both of hers, she traced the rough callous and scars that littered his hands, scabbed over from years of bare-knuckled fights and brawls. Tracing every line in his palm, she had spent years looking at him, but this was the first time she had ever really look at him and his hands. He had touched her thousands of times, but now she was touching him, it felt different, he felt different. Casting his hand away, she stood and stormed to the window, back turned as she blinked away the tears. She waited and waited, but he didn’t come to comfort or soothe her as he always did. In the reflection of the window, she watched as gazed longingly at the stairs.

So when I finished this chapter, it was 5000 words long- to spare you a headache, so I broke it into two parts.

What do you think?

@fandom-lover-4  @sageandberries-png @wastingmypotential @luxyash @whitespring21 @ayamenimthiriel @crazynocturnalkiki @wonderlandfandomkingdom @shesthelastjedi @broco8 @introvertedmouse @threepupsinapuddle @pastelblogsposts

[sweetlysick]

Sweet Vermouth

(Geto!Bartender AU)(NSFW)

“I guess I should probably go, huh?” The woman stated languidly before moving the cigarette back to her mouth. It was almost 4am. The club was quiet; they were the only two left. She had been sitting here watching him clean behind the bar for almost half an hour now.

Geto looked up from where he was rearranging the liquor bottles on the back shelf, her gaze hazy and unreadable in the muted lights. He thought about telling her not to smoke inside, but it didn’t really matter. People did anyway.

“Why? Don’t want to wait for me?” He prompted in response before turning back to his work.

A faint, but amused noise emanated from her.

“Is that why I’m here?” It sounded like a question for herself just as much as for him.

“I don’t know. But you are starting to stay a little later each time, I’ve noticed.”

The only sound for a few minutes after that was that of water sloshing as he washed out the sink, soaping up a rag he pulled from a cupboard beneath it to begin working on wiping down the counters.

“I think I find myself feeling un-judged in your presence. It’s kind of refreshing... I guess I’m getting greedy for it now.”

He glanced at her when she finished but her eyes were far off still, the cigarette slowly burning itself down between her fingers. Methodically he worked his way towards her, letting the words hang in the air.

It was a thoughtful silence.

The spell was only broken once he was beside her, taking her wrist so he could bring her cigarette to his lips. Ash scattered across the floor, the ember burning brighter as he pulled smoke into his lungs. He could feel her now watching him; and he met her gaze, letting the smoke curl out of his lips.

“I don’t mind you being greedy.”

He stated, head tilted as his eyes roamed her face. She watched him just as intently, as if they both were somehow trying to read each others minds simultaneously.

The man leaned in closer, but a soft hand at his collarbone made him pause.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” She asked, expression as unreadable as ever.

But he didn’t respond to her question, instead continuing his journey to close the gap between them. He wasn’t the type to hold back; his tongue slipped inside her mouth without hesitation and she could feel how wet his hands still were as they roamed over her.

The kiss was heated, and indulgent, but it lasted less than a minute as she pulled back, letting air once again reach her lungs.

“Come home with me.”

His voice was low, his nose brushing hers, unrelenting in their closeness. She had nowhere to run or hide from the intentions swirling the air. She had let herself open this Pandora’s box, after all.

“You think just because I kissed you I want to go home with you?” She sighed as she rested her arms around his neck, fingers brushing at the length of his hair.

“I don’t think you would have kissed me unless you did.”

His response made a faint laugh bubble out of her and he leaned in once more, letting himself taste the amusement on her lips.

“I’ll wait outside—“

She said as she slipped off the stool, making room between them so she could untangle herself from his embrace. His hands and fingertips lingered until she stepped out of reach, in the same movement turning and walking away towards the exit.

“So don’t take too long, okay?”

—

Geto’s apartment smelled distinctly of incense. She now understood the smoky sweetness that lingered on him; it wasn’t just cigarette smoke and cologne as she had guessed.

“Do you want anything?” He asked after removing his shoes, his tall frame moving past her to walk into the small kitchen area. There were plants everywhere— and bookshelves, lined top to bottom with paperbacks. She wondered what he liked to read...

“Water would be good.” She responded, attention moving back to him. A hangover was something she preferred to avoid.

It was just like they were back at the club again, her moving to lean on the counter and him busying himself concocting things behind it— though water was an easy order.

“Thank you.”

The woman said as he placed a glass in front of her, getting a nod from him in response. But instead of him staying where he was he made his way back over to her, pressing his chest into her back. She made no move to reciprocate; she felt him brush her hair aside, his mouth trailing over the revealed skin. His arms wrapped around her waist as she brought the glass to her mouth.

“I hope you don’t mind if I’m also greedy...”

The sudden baritone in his voice made her insides roll and she she shook her head, setting the glass down.

His hands slide under her shirt and she leaned into him as he began to kiss her neck softly— the higher his hands got the hotter and rougher his mouth felt, her breath rising in response. As his fingers gripped at her chest she let out a faint sound, his teeth digging into her skin in response.

“Wait—“

He immediately retracted at her words, and she turned to face him, her expression mischievous.

“Just don’t leave any visible marks— I’m a professional businesswoman, remember.” She told him with a smirk as she unbuttoned her top and shrugged it off before letting him settle back against her.

“Mmmm, you may want to avoid wearing anything white for the next week or two, anyway...”

His voice murmured at her ear before his lips moved back down her throat, teeth trailing her shoulder teasingly.

Still intent on marking her, the man makes his way down her chest to the top curves of her breasts, continuing the work he had started. On his knees now he slides the straps of her bra down, nimble fingers easily unlatching the back and letting the second garment fall to the floor.

Pinned between him and the countertop she can only watch him bruise her chest, hands tangling in his hair for any kind of traction.

“Geto—“

She’s breathless and his eyes flicker up to her, a half grin on his face as his tongue rolls over one of her nipples.

“Hmmm?”

He continues to look at her and she can’t help but look away—

“If you want something you have to tell me, sweetheart.”

The man remarks, causing her face to flush more than it already was. She was good at asking for things... when it came to work. When she was in control of the situation, when she had the upper hand— but she didn’t here... he knew that, and he was going to milk it for all it was worth.

“I want you to take me to bed.”

She finally mutters and his grin widens as he stands, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“That wasn’t so hard, right?”

Her lips purse in annoyance but that’s soon forgotten as he scoops her up into his arms, her fingers gripping into his shirt at the sudden movement.

The tendrils of passing plants glide across her skin as he walks her through the apartment to a room at the back, laying her gently down on the mattress before taking place over her.

Slowly, he kisses at her top and bottom lip individually, then the corner of her mouth— it’s only when her hands tug at the bottom of his shirt does he give in, letting their mouths connect fully again. They break apart for a moment so he can tug the shirt over his head but then he’s all hers again, all lips and teeth and tongue.

His kisses start to move downward once more, but instead of hovering over her chest he trails lower, down to her stomach. In the sporadic spots of moonlight peering through the curtains she watches the tattoos slink across his body in a myriad of colors— a stark contrast of darkness against her own skin. She wants to inspect them, but her mind is too busy focusing on him unbuttoning her pants— and the way his tongue just seems to have to touch every inch of her before he moves lower.

Now she’s just in her underwear and his head is dipping between her legs, his arms spreading them wider to continue his inspection.

Gently, he trails his fingers over the fabric and her eyes again can’t watch anymore— covering her mouth with the back of her hand she hides a soft sound as his kisses resume at her inner thigh. His fingers press a little harder as he rubs her over panties, and though she doesn’t notice, his eyes never leave her face.

“Don’t cover your face. I want to see your expressions...” His fingers stop their stroking and she’s forced to look down at him again, her eyes flashing darkly. But she does as he says, moving her hand back to her side.

“Good.”

He rewards her by giving her more friction and her hips quiver in response. Her expression is a mixture of annoyance and neediness, though obviously the pleasure seems to be winning out. She wasn’t used to being submissive.

Without a warning his fingers slip under the fabric so he can touch her directly and her chest rises sharply, ever more sensitive to all the teasing— sweat begins to glisten on her ribcage and he hums praise as he watches her hands grip at his sheets.

A lewd sound leaves her lips as he slides one digit inside of her, a hand clamping over her mouth once more to quiet herself.

“No, baby, we talked about this—“

His voice is chastising as he moves upward to grab with his free hand her arm, pinning it beside her head. His finger continues to gently stroke inside of her and she groans, teeth digging into her bottom lip.

“You know, you always look so sad when I see you at work— I want to see what you look like when I make you feel good, yeah? I want to get rid of that look—“

He slides another finger inside of her and her eyes roll, his pace quickening to match the needy rhythm of her arching hips.

“You know how many times I’ve just wanted to bend you over the counter, darling? All the times I wanted to fuck the stress right out of you after a long day... I wouldn’t give a shit who was watching.”

She moans, loudly, the mixture of pet names and his low voice only serving to intensify the pleasure. His fingers were long— and he made sure to curl them where it made her twitch most, the soft, wet sounds growing louder as he worked at her.

“Now, be good so I can make you feel even better.”

He gives her a low look before letting her arm go and dipping back down between her thighs. Using his unoccupied hand to spread her folds his tongue glides along till it connects with her clit, another whimper rising into the air.

His tongue stud wasn’t really noticeable when they kissed— and it was barely when he had been kissing her chest. But it was oh-so noticeable as it pressed down on her most sensitive part, every lap of it making her jolt as it glides against her nerves.

He lets out his own, appreciative sound as he presses his face closer between her legs, continuing to finger her as well.

She was going to cum.

It was inevitable. He knew too well already what she liked, and he had so easily taken control of the situation that she was—

Another almost aching sound leaves her throat as she cums on his hand, her breath frantic as she grinds against his face till she’s finished, body trembling as it comes down off the high.

He doesn’t disconnect from her till her hips seize their movement— his face glistening, he seems pleased as he removes his fingers, sticking them into his mouth to remove the excess liquid.

“Fuck.”

Is the only word she can get out as she watches him and he chuckles, using his discarded shirt to wipe off his chin.

“Feeling a little better?” Geto asks as his eyes scan her face, his fingers popping open the button on his jeans.

“A bit.” She responds, her eyes trailing down from his face to watch his hands, closely. His zipper glinted even under the low lights and as he moves to stand she gets another brief view of his inked skin; his back this time, covered in what looked to be some sort of Japanese style monster.

Sliding off his jeans he removes his boxers as well, rummaging in one of his drawers for a moment before returning to her; this time the animals drawn onto his chest eying her as they hit the light.

Back between her legs he rests his dick between her thighs, using a combination of fingers and teeth to rip open the condom wrapper.

She feels her stomach warm, watching the already semi-hard dick settled on her abdomen... if it resting there was any indication, it was going to be a tight fit.

Unable to resist she reaches her hands down to touch it, pressing it closer and letting her own cum coat the sides. She sees him pause; distracted by her new movements. Good.

She continues to grind against him, her hands running along his length and feeling him harden more by the second.

“Can’t wait even for a minute, huh?”

His eyes hooded, he moves back over her, using his own hips to grind his dick harder against her.

“You’re the one who decided that was a good resting spot...” She murmurs, hands cupping his face so she can bring him in for another kiss. A tease as always his grind is slow and methodical, not letting her more eager pace run the show. He was patient.

For a moment, at least.

Sitting up again he moves to slide the condom on— she imagines herself stretching around him just as the latex does and she can’t help but shift wantonly at the thought, wanting him to hurry up.

“Are you ready, honey?”

His tone is dripping with sweetness as he prods at her entrance with the head of his dick; but his face is another story, his tongue flicking out to drag across his bottom lip. A look of pure hunger.

“I think I’ve had enough of the teasing.”

She counters, sitting up— she can see the surprise on his face but it morphs into a half grin as she straddles him, his hands gripping her thighs to help keep her in place. Reaching down and between them her hands reposition his cock back where she wanted it. He hums, something that vibrates from deep in his chest as he feels her sink onto him, her head lolling back as she enjoys the feeling.

His hands slide up her thighs to settle on her ass and his fingertips dig in, teeth once more grazing the skin along her throat.

“Suguru—“

She warns, using his first name to try to express her seriousness, but it falls on deaf ears. With a sharp sounding smack he pushes her the rest of the way down onto him, at the same time his teeth sinking into her neck. She can’t protest— all she can do is gasp as he his hips begin a fast paced rhythm.

“No more fucking back-talking. I just wanna hear you fucking moan—“

His words are muffled against her neck, unabashedly continuing to mark her in various shades of purple and blue.

She could do nothing but oblige, her nails clawing into the skin on the back of his shoulders as she clung to him desperately. He was sloppy, and rough, and needy— he changed the angle of his hips every few strokes to get new sounds out of her, praising her for every one that filled the room.

“Ah-!”

Her whole body jolted as his dick hit a particularly good spot, pleasure arcing like electricity through her limbs.

“There?”

He asks and suddenly she’s on her back again, his hips twisting to try and recreate whatever he had just done.

“You gotta tell me when, baby.”

He presses his forehead against hers and she can only shake her head, panting as she feels her skin cling to his because of all the sweat. Even if she wanted to speak she couldn’t. When was the last time she was fucked like this? Had she EVER—

“FuCK—“

She suddenly jolts again as he hits it again but this time he knows and hits it again and again and again.

“There! There, there—“

Tears leak out of her eyes as he presses her harder down against the bed, his pace, somehow, even more merciless than before.

“Good, good fucking girl.”

Geto laughs, breathlessly as he watches her squirm beneath him, just a mess of tears and sweat and sounds. He can practically feel when she cums again, her insides squeezing him like they wanted to swallow him whole. He lets her catch her breath, her thighs loosening around him as she winds down again, eyes skyward as she pants.

“Are you done pretending to be in charge now?”

He asks huskily, and a faint smile crosses her lips.

“I think I might need a little more for that.”

Her grin is back but his hand is quick to secure itself around her throat in retaliation.

“You don’t have to pretend—“

He murmurs, suddenly sliding his cock out of her, inciting another sound to rise from her throat.

“I know you’re just a fucking pillow princess.”

He growls now, squeezing her neck once more before flipping her over, hoisting her ass up and pressing her head down against the bed. Before she can even think of anything to say back he’s shoving himself back inside of her and her eyes once more are rolling into the back of her head.

“You can leave all the bullshit at work— I know you just want someone to fucking use you. Isn’t that, right? Baby?”

She moans as she feels his fingers intertwine themselves into her hair, arching her back ever higher to give him more leverage.

Of course. Of course, the answer was yes.

He had known from the moment he saw her. Who wants to be in charge all of the time? Her eyes had practically been begging for it.

“Say it.”

She can feel his pace become uneven, his strokes less articulated and more desperate.

“Fucking say it so I can—“

“Of course, of course I want you to just use me, Suguru, so why don’t you just hurry up and—“

She interrupts him and with renewed vigor he slams himself into her again. Her words get lost into the jumble of moans again and her toes curl, her mind unable to tell the difference between the pleasure and the pain of it all. He fucks her relentlessly till he finally reaches his own climax, her body quivering even after he stops.

All she can do is lie there and breath as he presses kisses onto her spine, her body aching and heated under him.

“Feel better now?”

He asks once more and she can only nod faintly, another of his low laughs reaching her ears.

“Look who learned to be quiet~”

[love-fireflysong]

Day 20: Dare

Fandom: Until Dawn Character(s): Beth Washington, Josh Washington, Hannah Washington Words: 1728 Rating: General (minor language, plans to poison your best friends and yourself!) Author’s Notes: Super late holy shit. But it’s fine. Have some cookies. Just don’t take any from Josh...

This fic is not sponsored by Dare Cookies. Honestly, that’s probably a good thing.

When Beth walked into the kitchen that morning, to say that she had not expected the sight before her would not be a lie. There were many things she anticipated seeing when walking into her kitchen, Josh covered head to toe in white powder was not one of them. Well, that was a lie actually. Truthfully, Josh was exactly the type of person she could see running a secret coke lab, just not from the family kitchen. At least, she really hoped not. Reporting her brother for running a cocaine lab in the middle of their kitchen was not what she intended to start her day with.

“Are you, are you covered in flour?”

While Josh didn’t move from where he was standing at the counter, he did look over his shoulder at her affronted. “Um excuse me. This is cornstarch, not flour. Learn the difference Beth, god.” He gave a disdainful sniff, and then proceeded to sneeze violently into his arm.

Beth rolled her eyes. “Sorry. Cornstarch. Why in the world are you covered in cornstarch then.”

“Making cookies.”

Beth just stopped to stare at her brother with narrowed eyes, mouth opening and closing as she tried to find some form of words, only to groan and rub at a spot between her eyes. Words were quite literally failing her right now, and she didn’t even know where to start.

“Hey Beth, what’s taking so long—why is Josh covered in flour?”

Beth turned to see Hannah behind her, who stopped to stare at Josh in turn. Before she could figure out how to even start answering her question, Josh had butted in with exasperation. “It’s cornstarch, people! God, does no one in this house know what basic fucking baking supplies look like?”

Beth ignored Josh, an easy feat when he’s been part of their everyday lives since before they could talk, and gave her twin a flat, unimpressed look. “He’s making cookies. Apparently.”

Hannah’s forehead creased in confusion. “But, cookies don’t need cornstarch...”

Beth nodded slowly in agreement, her next words coming out as a tired sigh. “They also don’t need soy sauce, mustard, and mayo, and yet, here we are.”

True to her words, surrounding Josh on all available surfaces were bags upon bags filled to the brim with numerous bottles of soy sauce, mayonnaise, and two(!) kinds of mustard. All of this was ignoring the dozen boxes of cookies scattered around the kitchen and the roughly four bags filled with cornstarch alone. There were questions out there that Beth never wanted the answers too, and this right here was roughly seven of them.

Unfortunately for her, Hannah didn’t share the same thoughts. “Do I want to know what kind of cookies you’re making?”

“No, no you don’t. I don’t want to know. Neither of us want to know. So let’s just grab our shit from the fridge and get back upstairs where it’s safe.”

Josh ignored Beth just as easily as she did him earlier, instead reaching over to grab one of the bottles of soy sauce and proceeded to dump almost the entirety of it into what she hoped was a bowl. A bowl of what, she didn’t want to know. “Special cookies, Han. For three very special people.”

“...if those cookies are for us, I will end you here and now Josh, don’t think I won’t.”

Josh snorted as he lifted his whisk to inspect the consistency of his soy sauce/cornstarch concoction. “Oh please Beth. We both know that you could probably snap me like I twig.” He grimaced for a second, seemingly unhappy with the thickness, and added some more cornstarch. He coughed at the rising cloud of white that erupted from the bowl. “Nah, these are for me, Chris, and Ash later.”

“Alright. Gonna be honest here. Was not expecting to have to call the police because there was a murder-suicide pact tonight.”

“Sad thing is, probably the least exciting call they’ll ever have coming from our house.” Hannah gave a long-suffering sigh as she reached for one of the empty boxes of cookies on the table nearby, this one Ultimate Maple Creme.  “Is there a reason you bought like, a million boxes of four different flavours of cookies?”

Josh shrugged nonchalantly at the question, and reinspected his brown sludge. Happy now with the results, Beth and Hannah watched him reach of a plate of what they recognized to be the cookie halves of the Ultimate Fudge Chocolate. “We’re playing truth or dare tonight.”

Hannah held up the empty box of Dare brand cookies higher. “I don’t think that when people play truth or dare, they mean the cookie brand.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because you don’t share my brilliance. See, this is how we can tell that I was the only one who got any imagination in this family.” Josh started to carefully take his thick sludge and began to ice the cookies with them.

Hannah was a little more hesitant with her next question. “What exactly are you doing to all these cookies anyways?” Once again, not a question Beth wanted the answer to.

This time, Josh did fully turn to face the two of them, and oh boy was he a sight. He was almost completely covered in cornstarch with random flecks of soy sauce and mustard covering his hands and the apron he had probably stolen from the home-ec room at school. In one arm was a bowl filled with what Beth assumed to be the unholy amalgamation of soy sauce and cornstarch and the other held the whisk, covered in said mixture. The large, maniacal grin on his face and insane look in his eyes was enough to complete the image that their brother had officially snapped. “Oh, am I glad you asked, Han! You see, this is where my brilliance comes into play! I am slowly and painstakingly replacing the creme in every single one of these cookies with my own!” He waved the whisk wildly and Beth backed up to hopefully avoid the spray of brown, but it was thick enough that nothing actually flew thankfully.

Beth hated herself for the words coming out of her mouth, but they were out into the world before she knew it. “And what kind of cream is that?”

Josh changed the tone of his voice so resembled that of a teacher giving a lecture. “It changes for every cookie of course, but they all start with the same cornstarch/water base as a thickener. From there, it all changes! For the maple, I add some dijon mustard for color. Chocolate gets soy sauce. Lemon, just a smidgen of regular mustard.” Josh turned back to the row of chocolate cookies on the counter. “And the coconut gets mayo, simply because an icing of just cornstarch is boring and I am not all about that life.”

“Kind of making it sound that your not all about life in general right now.”

Josh didn’t give much of an answer other than a shrug. “That’s because you don’t understand my genius.”

“Evil genius more like.”

“Is there any better?”

God help her, but Hannah moved closer to watch over Josh’s shoulder as he continued to ice the cookies. “And what are you doing with the normal fillings?”

Without looking, Josh pointed towards a couple of containers to the left of him. “Failures and fillings are over there if you want them.”

Beth was definitely more then a little hesitant when she looked in the bowl of ‘failures’. Only to sigh in relief at the sight of what was just a bowl of broken cookies that Josh hadn’t managed to separate properly. Which wasn’t a surprise. These weren’t exactly Oreo’s he was dealing with, so it was probably harder to split these without one or both sides of the cookie shattering. The other container was just filled with maple and chocolate creme centers as he promised. She reached into the first bowl and picked out a maple one that was missing about a third of the cookie on top, popping it into her mouth as she handed Hannah a similar chocolate one.

“Surprised that these are even here. Thought you would have eaten every single mistake.”

The look that Josh gave her was so unimpressed that she almost choked on the cookie in surprise. “Beth. I have been at this for literally hours. Trust me, I got sick of these things like two hours ago. There were so many mistakes.”

Hannah stuck her hand in a bowl to grab another broken chocolate fudge, but carefully added some of the discarded maple creme on top. “So how exactly is this game supposed to work? Whenever someone picks dare they have to eat a cookie?”

Josh shook his head in clear disappointment as he gestured at himself. “Oh Hannah. Hannah, Hannah, Hannah. Once again, only one who has any imagination, right here.” He returned back to his tray of cookies, carefully placing the other half back on top of the soy sauce creme, cleaning up any that leaked over the edge as he did so. “Of course not. It’s very simple really. Someone picks either truth or dare, and the person asking asks their question or gives their demand. The fun comes in refusing! If anyone refuses to either answer the truth or do the dare, then they have to eat a cookie as repentance.”

Beth watched Josh put the tray of now completed ‘chocolate fudge’ cookies into the fridge to harden as she ate a piece of maple creme from the bowl. She noticed that there was already a couple of other trays in the fridge and made a note to warn Sam not to touch a single cookie when she came over later in the afternoon. “And are Chris and Ashley aware that there are going to be cookies?”

“Nope.”

She sighed. “Are they even aware that they’re gonna be playing truth or dare tonight?”

“Nope.” 

The pop of the p was so self-satisfied that Beth turned to look at Hannah, but saw that she was already on her phone before she could open her mouth.

“Already putting Poison Control on speed dial.”

“Probably a good idea honestly.” Josh didn’t even pause from grabbing the four boxes of lemon creme’s, another four containers of cornstarch, and two bottles of regular mustard as he replied.

[chrysalispen]

xxv. the summer in their veins

second verse same as the first, i’ll reblog when this is up on AO3!

chapter below the cut as always <3

EDIT: chapter is now up on AO3 HERE

=======

The vague sense of disquiet and its physical effect -- levin and static sending fiery prickles along her arms -- did not fade. It persisted as she splashed into the waters and across the bank, as she approached the gate, as it swung shut at her back, and did not fade even when Keveh’to joined her on a silent and hurried return to the cabin. Her heart pounded and her throat felt tight with an anxiety which had neither a name nor a focus. 

This forest has eyes. 

“Right,” Keveh’to said without preamble as the front door shut behind them, “now would you like to tell me what in hells that was all about? You said you met her at the ruins?”

“Yes.”

“And you just gave half Ewain’s supply to her without a word to him?” He shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder at you, Aurelia. I really do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that for someone who often seems so worldly, you are remarkably quick to take the people here at their word. She was hiding something, and not doing that great a job of it.”

Aurelia threw up her hands. “She’s naught but a child, and we have more than enough of the things I gave to her to spare. That disaster last summer didn’t just hurt Gridania.”

“Did she get a look at -- you know.”

“No, my third eye was covered. You might at least trust in my discretion.”

Keveh’to exhaled. She unslung her packs and draped them over the hooks by the door. 

“Now,” she said, “you can tell me what’s got you so excited it couldn’t wait until the other two got back-- what are they doing down the Millers’, anyroad?”

“I’m getting to it, trust me. I’ll make some tea while you wash your face- are you quite certain you’re all right? You don’t need the Hearer or Trevantioux to take a look at it?”

“Hells forbid,” the Garlean snorted. “Trevantioux would have me drink some awful concoction for his own amusement. No, it’ll be fine; scalp cuts nearly always look worse than they are in truth. It stopped bleeding a while ago.”

“Well, I’d wash it anyway.”

“I’m well ahead of you.” It wouldn’t do to have the other two men alarmed and asking inconvenient questions. Aurelia made her way to the small standing washbasin near the bath partition. The hempen covering was probably ruined. Maybe, she thought. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d had to wash bloodstains out of clothing; perhaps she would try one of Ewain’s smelly lye soaps and see if that didn’t take some of the stains out.

She filed it away for later consideration. Washing her laundry could wait until after she found out what had her companion so excited.

By the time she had cleaned her face and returned to the sitting area the tea was ready. Keveh’to handed her one of the earthenware mugs, filled near to the brim with chamomile. “We’ve not much time to talk,” he said. “They’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

She sat. “Go on. I’m listening.”

At length, he said, “You know Whiterock, right? That little spot where the children play?”

“The one in that birch copse near the walls? Of course.” Aurelia smiled into her tea. “Little Bran Miller was in a fine spate of ill temper when his mother told him he had to help me with gathering her moko grass; he told me in no uncertain terms he’d much rather be playing with his brothers. Their games get quite intense, so I’m told.”

“Aye, well, ‘tis just as well the lad wasn’t there to see what the rest of them did today. There was a corse half-buried under deadfall -- an Ixal scout, by all appearances. Blood and rot everywhere. One of the other children all but tripped over it.”

She inhaled sharply. 

“Yes, I think it was good Bran didn’t see that. Did one of the village watch get careless?”

“They didn’t know it was there. He had been dead long enough for the forest to start getting at him.” Keveh’to set his mug on the low-slung table between them, then strode towards the door to rummage for something inside the pockets of his gambeson. “But something’s off about the entire thing- here, let me show you.”

As he frowned and muttered and searched his belongings Aurelia let her mind wander for a few moments. She was tired and sore and only half-registering his words, and her thoughts still lay with the young Miqo’te girl somewhere in the forest by herself. Hearing that a body had been found nearby did little to ease her worries; the disaster had left people bereft and desperate, and it was known that there were bandits in the wood.

I hope Vahne made it back all right to wherever it is she lives. I’d not forgive myself if-

“Ah,” the Miqo’te said triumphantly, tugging a hemp-wrapped bundle loose from the pile of armor. “Here we are. We collected this from the site where the boy found the body.”

She set aside her tea cup and stood, then made her way to the door as he removed the hastily wrapped item, then winced at the sight. It was an arrow of somewhat simplistic make, the iron head and ash shaft stained a coppery brown. Old blood. 

“Ewain will not take well to finding something like this under his roof.”

“What the old man doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Keveh’to’s eyes gleamed almost amber. “Look at it. Can you tell me what doesn’t match here? You can touch it, it’s long dry by now.”

“I’m not certain what good my opinion will do. I’m hardly an inspector.”

“Well, what of it? You’re used to looking at these sorts of things when you’re trying to figure out why someone’s injured, aren’t you?”

Aurelia squinted at him, then held her hand out to take the implement from him. Gingerly she lifted the arrow by the shaft and examined it with a critical eye. At first glance nothing looked strange; the head was solid, albeit caked in dried blood, and the shaft and its fletching pristine. Were it not for the stains, she mused, one would have thought it to be--

Her lips pursed.

“One would expect to see the target’s blood in the fletching had it struck its mark, or some other sign of use had it not. This arrow isn’t a crossbow bolt, mind, but still. It looks…”

“Go on,” Keveh’to encouraged when she trailed off mid sentence, though by his tone it was clear he already had an answer in mind. Aurelia tilted the arrow over and over in her fingers, the knitted furrow in her brow deepening by the second.

“...This rather looks as though it is not what killed your dead man.”

He looked pleased. “Aye. ‘Twould seem we agree.”

Aurelia studied him in turn, her gaze appraising. 

“You do realize,” she said, “that this would be considered official evidence? You shouldn’t even have this on your person, much less show it to me; last I checked, I’m supposed to be serving out a prison sentence.”

“That lot out there doesn’t give a damn because they think one dead Ixal only benefits them. You may be a prisoner,” Keveh’to replied, “but you’re the closest thing I have to a partner at the minute - and frankly I’m bored out of my bloody mind on wall duty. This gives us both something to do-”

“Implying I’ve not been run ragged on Ewain’s morning rounds.”

“Hang the rounds. Let Trevantioux do them.” Aurelia made a face. Ewain’s assistant had proven to somehow be even more insular than the old man, and the Elezen had made little secret of his distaste for Gridania’s choice of assignment in sending Willowsbend a foreign adventurer as a conjurer novitiate. “I’ll make up some reason for you to come along with me.”

“He’ll complain that I’m shirking my duties, no doubt.”

“He can complain all he likes and so can the Hearer. This is important.”

“Well, put that away before the two of them get back.” She handed him the arrow. “You said Whiterock, right?”

“Aye. It’s not far from the wall. Nearest the Quarrymill road.”

Aurelia nodded thoughtfully. “Meet me there at midday.”

~*~

The next morning was sweltering -- hot and humid and still. Other than the reedy noises of tree frogs and the odd bird call, little seemed to stir with the sunrise, and Aurelia was only an hour into the morning rounds before she’d sweat through her smallclothes and into her robes. 

A glance at the sour-faced Trevantioux showed that the Elezen man fared little better in the oppressive heat, though he was stoic as ever where it came to any indication of his feelings - at least in her presence. Many of the Elezen who dwelt in the Shroud seemed little inclined to bear the presence of outsiders in the first place, but he seemed to harbor a particular rancor. 

Any hopes Aurelia might have harbored that Ewain’s assistant might warm to her had been quickly laid to rest. The wedding originally set for the close of the winter months had been delayed until the summer, and rather than train her on his own and allow Trevantioux the freedom to court his bride and tend to his own affairs, the Hearer had insisted that his assistant stick to his usual routine - and, adding insult to injury by all appearances, he was compelled to allow Aurelia to attend him and observe him on his morning rounds. 

Internally she ground her teeth every time the man spoke to her - at least most of old Ewain’s saltiness seemed to owe to age and weariness - and reminded herself that this was an internship, one that was not like to last indefinitely, and that once Trevantioux and his betrothed were wed he would be reassigned by the guild. 

It was small enough recompense, all things considered.

Her final stop this morning before joining Keveh’to was the Millers’ cottage: one of the few places in town where Aurelia nearly always enjoyed some degree of respite from the veteran conjurer’s constant criticism. Trevantioux didn’t particularly get along with its sunny-natured and wry-tongued mistress, and was all too glad to leave Aurelia to tend to her while he saw to other house calls.

Aurelia for her part found instant appeal in Frieda’s quick wit and irreverent humor, and the sparrow-framed Midlander weaver had - despite her initial wariness of the outsider - likewise warmed to Ewain’s novice quickly. In the ensuing months she had gone from polite civility to voicing her frequent appreciation for E-Sumi-Yan’s wisdom. Frieda liked Ewain well enough for all that she found Trevantioux incurably stuffy, but she seemed well pleased the guild in Gridania had finally seen fit to send a woman to Willowsbend.  

“Goodness, Aurelia, do you fare well?” she asked the novice conjurer now, frowning. “You look about to melt into a puddle right before my bed.”

Breaking from her brief reverie as she removed the herbs from her satchel and dabbed the sweat from her brow with the corner of one hem, Aurelia offered the older woman a rueful smile. “I might well be, at that. One could break a sweat simply stepping outdoors today.”

“Summer’s come upon us fast this year.” She shifted somewhat awkwardly in the bedclothes. “If you let me get up I can fetch you some water from the kitchen. Rauffe’s still working on the well, but I’ll not see a guest in my home go without-”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Aurelia denied, the stern note of her response brooking no argument. “Never you mind a bit of sweat; I’ve a waterskin and plenty of shards to refill it. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh really now, Aurelia-”

“No.”

Frieda let out a thwarted groan. “I can’t simply be ordered to lie abed for the next two moons! There’s so much work to be done-”

“Well, you most certainly can, when needs must,” Aurelia replied briskly. “There’s hardly any need for all this fuss and bother, surely? It’s only until the baby arrives. Once you’ve recovered from the birth you can go traipsing about the forest all day if you like.”

A gusty and exasperated sigh tossed a puff of sweaty red curls from the Hyur’s brow. “I shall have you know I’ve done this plenty of times before,” Frieda complained. “And I’m perfectly healthy-”

“Healthy enough to complain, most certainly.”

“You know full well what I mean, Mistress Laskaris. I don’t see why I should have to be confined to bed for so long over some puffy ankles.”

“I told you already. ‘Tis naught but a precaution given your history-” 

“A ridiculous precaution.”

“You're free to think whatever you like,” Aurelia countered, with the somewhat exaggerated patience L'haiya had so often used when talking to her childhood self in a fit of stubbornness, “but you are not just my friend. You are also my patient and as I have the care of you and yours, I bear responsibility for your well-being. As such, I would see you remain healthy and deliver a living child.”

“Aye, I know. But still-”

“I’m aware there’s plenty of work to be done. I’ve seen enough of your routine to know. But you’re hardly alone. Bran knows how to collect and dry the grasses for the spindle, you’ve two other sons of a goodly age to be helping about the house, and there’s Rauffe besides-”

“Rauffe? Rauffe won’t even mend his own smallclothes, never mind help with the spinning,” Frieda snorted. “If he gets a rip he’s like to just cut a hole in the arse end of his breeches and let in a stiff breeze - or out, depending on how much cabbage he had the night previous.”

Despite herself Aurelia let out an extremely unladylike cackle. 

Frieda offered a triumphant grin and relaxed at last, lacing her callused fingers over the curve of her swelling belly. “And what of Conjurer Trevantioux? I thought he was to be checking on me this morning, but I mark he’s dumped you on my doorstep again. It’s getting to be something of a habit, that.”

“He is as anxious to be shut of me as I am of him.” Aurelia reached for her waterskin. “Here’s hoping the bride's father doesn’t take ill again and delay their wedding a third time.”

“Is old Darien really doing all that poorly, I wonder,” Frieda mused aloud, “or is Noline just stalling?”

“I hardly know her well enough to have an opinion. But both Trevantioux and Ewain have been frequent guests at her home since my own arrival and the old man’s little other reason to visit as often as he does, so I can only guess is that there’s some truth in it.”

“Well, I had to ask. She’s his only child, after all,” Frieda continued. Aurelia shrugged as she uncorked the skin. She wasn’t really one to spread idle village chatter, feeling it somewhat beneath her and out of the scope of her duties besides. “Between you and me I suspect he’s having rather a difficult time letting go.”

“Mm.” She raised the waterskin to her lips for a draught. 

“And what of you and that handsome Sergeant Epocan?”

Taken by surprise at the probing question, Aurelia sputtered mid-sip, coughing. By some miracle water didn’t go everywhere, though it was a near thing. “What- Heaven forbid! The Sergeant and I aren’t like that at all!”

“That’s not the word ‘round town.” The Midlander woman’s smile was quite shrewd. “They say you’re on a first name basis with him. Keeper folk don’t let just anyone talk to them in such a familiar way, you know.”

Aurelia uttered a short, sharp laugh and set the skin aside, then tipped the rest of the ground medicinal blend from her mortar into the small glass bottle on the bed’s side table. 

“You really ought to tell the old women in the marketplace to mind their own business and stop asking such personal questions,” she said in a voice far more dismissive than she felt as she reached for a stopper. “I don’t suppose that’s asking for very much, is it?”

“Oh, sod those old crones! I’m asking for my own self, love."

"So the impertinence is your own? My, that certainly makes a difference, I suppose."

"Imper- well, it’s not as though I’ve aught else to do these days other than laze abed and keep my hands busy with stitching."

"Excuses."

"Aye, some fancy pants big-city chirurgeon gave me mad orders to rest and won’t let me break them. Mayhap you’re passing familiar with her.” 

Aurelia rolled her eyes, smiling all the while. “Right, I see how it is. Blame the outsider for your gossipmongering.”

“Only until I’m able to be up and about again,” Frieda retorted with a tart smile, one that lingered before fading somewhat. “...But what is he to you then, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m… not really at liberty to discuss that.” Her face felt warm from more than just the day’s heat. “I’m sorry. If I could tell you I would.”

“Oh, very well.”

If only you could know the truth. “One of these days, perhaps.”

“No, no. Keep your secrets, if it please you, Miss Conjurer. By all means.” Frieda’s bright hazel eyes danced with mischief and amusement in equal measure. “But you know I’ll pry them out of you yet. Best be on your guard.”

~*~

Aurelia had taken the opportunity to bathe and find a change of clothing, thinking it would give Keveh’to ample time to finish his own obligations for the morning. He wasn’t at their meeting spot when she arrived, however. The clearing and the outcropping of bared stone was deserted, a barest breeze shifting listlessly through heat-curled leaves; even the birds seemed to have decided the day was too hot for their calls. 

A first glance showed nothing that seemed to be particularly out of the ordinary; there were no indications that anyone else had returned to the scene since the body was discovered, although she would have been very much surprised had that been the case. 

She lingered at the base of the rocks and examined the favored playground of the village children. The white outcroppings were partially covered in moss and lichen, but the rock was sturdy granite and she could see where the children had carved themselves footholds into the rocks for climbing. Signs of recent scuff marks from their shoes could be seen in the moss and dirt scrapes, and piles of leaves had been hastily raked together to act as a soft landing should one of them fall. 

A place like this would have appealed greatly to her younger self- to say naught of her best friend. Aurelia’s slight smile turned faintly rueful. It would have been far safer than climbing the low-hanging zelkova trees that were native to Gyr Abania, certainly. (Although, she thought with an internal snicker, L’haiya would still have scolded her for getting dirt in her pinafore and leaves in her hair. She was not near fool enough to think that would have changed.)

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted what looked like an old basket someone had fashioned into a crude child-sized helm, lying a fulm or two away - something one of the children had dropped during their last game, no doubt. Slowly she picked it up, turning it this way and that-

“Aurelia!”

The call startled her, even though the voice was one she knew. 

The basket fell from her hands to the ground as Keveh’to, trotting towards her, blinked in a sort of mild surprise. “Can’t believe I finally took you unawares,” he began, then frowned, “Is aught amiss? Did you find something?”

“Just one of their toys, I think.” She picked up the basket by its well-patched handle and passed it to him. “Lying in that pile over there. The children might want it back.”

“I’ll return it once we’re done having a look about. Follow me - and watch your step.” Keveh’to pointed to a depression not far from the base of the rocks, one she hadn’t noticed until then. “That’s where we found him.”

“Any sign the body was moved?”

“None, but it was very late in the day before I had the chance to properly look. There’s always a chance, I suppose.”

Something about his tone stopped her in her tracks. “You didn’t tell the Wood Wailers you were bringing me out here.”

“Of course I bloody didn’t,” Keveh’to scoffed. “They’d have never allowed it - and nor would the Twin Adder have done if I’d told them. But this lot won’t do anything no matter how suspicious it all is, and I know you’re as bored out of your mind as I am, else you’d never have agreed to come with me.”

“Mind you, I’m not saying I disapprove, but you are wagering what little trust the locals have in you to investigate a matter you were told to leave to the Wailers. ‘Tis rather risky, you must admit.” Aurelia quirked a brow at him. “And with the likes of me, no less.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He paused to thread the basket into his belt.” You’ve all the demeanor of a harpy when it takes you and you’re stubborn as a goobbue, but as a partner? You’re not half bad, Garlean.”

Recalling her earlier conversation with Frieda, she could only laugh.

“At any rate,” she said, “let’s get this done before we’re missed.”

They left the rocks behind and ventured a few fulms beyond, into the tree line, before the Miqo’te came to an abrupt stop. His tail thumped a slow rhythm against her calf as his eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“This is the place." He paused. "I think."

"You think?"

“The way they acted I doubt Aubaints or Daye looked further afield than this for that arrow. They found it so quickly, but there was little enough time to look over the scene before night fell. If there’s others out here, I’m sure we’ll- here now, what’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“That bit of soil over there. Something’s kicked up the leaves.” He pointed, and Aurelia followed the line of sight. The mark in the forest soil was half-covered by remnants of fallen detritus from the overhanging trees, but it was visible enough to have caught a hunter’s keen eye. “Wonder if maybe that’s where he found it?”

“This far away from the body? I doubt it, but let’s have a look.” 

Aurelia approached and knelt to examine the area, her knee sinking into moist soil and old leaves. Light from the sun only faintly dappled the forest floor even in the early hours of the afternoon- this far into the Shroud, most of the wood was shielded by the upper canopy- and she had to adjust her position so that she did not cast so much of a shadow she could not examine what little evidence might still remained. It was passing odd she hadn’t found the shape of an arrowhead by now; the indentation in the soil was quite a bit less shallow than she had-

Her index fingertip struck something rounded and smooth.

“Found something,” she called.

Carefully she slid her finger deeper into the soil, curled it around the object until she could get purchase, and drew it out of the shallow hole in the ground until it rolled into her dirt-caked palm, the sheen of it winking in the dim sunlight. It was a small, slender piece of steel- one that her companion thought looked somewhat familiar, but it was strangely cylindrical and marked with soot on its flattened base. 

“There’s your arrow, Sergeant,” she said. 

Keveh’to frowned. How odd, he thought. It almost looked like the sort of thing he’d seen the Maelstrom’s volunteer privateers use in their flintlocks, but- 

“Twelve, that can’t possibly be a musket ball, could it?”

“So you have seen a gun before.” 

“Once or twice fighting the Empire. Some of the folk in the Foreign Levy were pirates sailing with letters of marque from the thalassocracy and a few of them kept sidearms.” He scratched at an idly flickering ear. “What I don't understand is the why of it. There’s no need for such weapons around here - might be one could use them for hunting, but if you ask me it’s not near as practical for that purpose as a good bow and arrow. I know I wouldn’t bother with it unless I were desperate. And I’ve never seen musket balls that looked like that.”

“Well, for one thing, this isn’t a musket ball.” She rolled it to and fro between her fingers. “It’s not even Eorzean.”

“But it couldn’t have come from anything else, surely?”

“Eorzean firearms discharge using aetheric means of combustion. The weapon that fired this used black powder. Look, you can see the scorch marks.” Aurelia poked the side of the casing. Steel glimmered dully beneath the patina of dirt that covered it. “This came from a gunblade.”

“...Imperial arms in this part of the Twelveswood? But we're malms from the nearest castrum. Are you absolutely certain?"

She gave him a very tired glance over one shoulder. 

“You asked me for my opinion as a chirurgeon earlier and I’m giving it now. I daresay I’ve dug out enough musket balls and gunblade bullets in operating theatres to know the difference.” Keveh’to blinked at her, clearly taken aback. With a soft grunt she clambered to her feet, dropping the spent casing in his hand before he could protest and dusting dirt from the backs of her legs.

“Here, hold this. I’m going to look about for something.”

“What are-”

“There won’t have been just the one-- no. There, look.” It was difficult to see but there was a small ring of discoloration in the bark of a nearby elm sapling, one that became more visible as Aurelia drew closer. She scraped her finger against the border of bark and bared trunk where a round had impacted and embedded itself. “Another one. Whoever it was, they fired at their target multiple times.”

He stared down at the dirt-caked metal in his hand, brow deeply furrowed. 

“...So as it stands we have a dead birdman with a bloody great hole in his chest, an arrow that was supposed to have been what killed him except there’s blood on it and naught in the fletching-”

“And at least two shots from a weapon that shouldn’t be here. And no other arrows save the one the lieutenant told you he found.” She shook her head. “I wish I’d have got a look at the body before the Wailers disposed of it. That would have been very telling.”

“Is that your professional opinion, then? So what’s the arrow doing here?”

“Either it was meant to be found, or the arrow is a red herring and has naught to do with anything at all, or we’ve a witness lurking about the woods.”

“I think we had better take this back to the Wailers immediately.”

“Agreed,” she said. “They will wish to impose a curfew until the matter is laid to rest.” 

Keveh’to opened a small pouch on his belt and dropped the casing inside. “They won’t take that notion kindly coming from us. But if the killer is willing to risk discovery so close to the village, they’ll likely not trifle to harm its people.”

Aurelia’s lips had tightened into a flat, grim line. 

“Also,” she said, “it would not be taken amiss to check with the night watch and ask if they heard any strange noises. Gunblades are not quiet things. It’s quite likely someone heard something. If we can figure out when-”

“Sergeant Epocan! Miss Aurelia!” 

“Sergeant Epocan!”

A boy and a girl - both bedraggled and half-soaked - came crashing through the brush with all the grace of a bull griffin, Aurelia thought with an internal grimace. She recognized their faces on sight, as she did most folk these days. One was Cecilie Aubaints, the Wood Wailer lieutenant’s daughter. The other was Bran Miller’s older brother Hugh. 

“Sergeant Epocan,” Cecilie shouted, “there’s a Keeper girl outside the village-”

“Silence, you silly girl,” barked a familiar voice, “lest the entire forest know your business!”

The pair blinked at the children, then at the sight of a very exasperated Elezen man bringing up the rear in his conjurer’s whites. Trevantioux Roulemet was a Wildwood man of six and thirty summers and had been Ewain’s assistant for the past five of them. Despite his relative youth he bore a perpetually sullen countenance, and what Aurelia’s father would have called ‘a certain inflexibility of thought’ where it came to any sort of change to his personal routine. 

No doubt he was displeased that he had been pulled away from said routine to fetch Aurelia from wherever it was she had gone, and her assumption was confirmed when he drew close enough for her to see the storm in his grey eyes.

“The Hearer found my note, I see,” she said blandly. “How does Noline fare?”

“Well enough, for all I’ve been dragged away from my visit to deal with this foolishness. What are you doing out here? The Wailers said this place was strictly off limits even for us.”

“Never mind all that,” Hugh said a trifle impatiently. “There’s a girl who came looking for you while me and Bran and Cecilie were playing in the creek, and-”

“Hugh,” Cecilie hissed, and the boy flushed.

“Well, they were going to find out eventually!”

“All right, all right,” Aurelia said, “let’s not all get ruffled feathers over it. Where is she, Hugh? Is she at the Hearer’s house?”

“No, Miss Aurelia. I told Keeper Ewain she could go to my house with Bran and stay with Mama while we looked for you. She said she’d only talk to you and no one else, and Mama knows how to handle crying girls better than anyone I know.”

Crying. Anxiety lanced through her chest like a gut punch. She didn’t know Vahne well enough to say for sure, but she knew enough of Keepers from talking to Keveh’to to know if the self-assured young huntress had been rattled enough to cry in front of strangers, then something very grave must have happened to cause it.

“I’m going back,” she said. “Hugh, you come with me and the Sergeant. Trevantioux, take Cecilie home. We’ll go to the Millers’ first and meet you back at the cottage.”

“We were swimming,” Cecilie protested, but faltered under the older Elezen’s withering glare.

“In the creek,” he said acidly, “where you knew you weren’t supposed to be by yourselves?”

“We were just-” 

“Come now, along with you. You can make your excuses to your father.”

She watched Trevantioux march the protesting girl back towards the village, looking rather like a disgruntled hound shepherding a wet kitten. Under different circumstances the thought might have amused her, but she knew she must have looked as worried as she felt when she caught Keveh’to’s quizzical expression.

“I thought you just met that girl yesterday.” “So I did.”

“What do you think brought her here?”

“No idea,” she said. “Hopefully something minor.”

[chronicowboy]

Carol Danvers did not expect to get attached to another snarky on the outside but soft on the inside man when she returned to earth. She was simply told that a person, immeasurable in his importance and loved more than he knew, was stranded in space. There was no hesitation in her actions, she marched outside and launched herself into the atmosphere; something she'd done a thousand times but this one felt different. It didn't take all that long for her to find the ship, a man wasting away in the cockpit. For a terrible, agonising moment she thought she was too late, but his eyes — they didn't flutter, no, that's far too delicate a word for what they did — opened with immense force and she breathed a sigh of relief before pushing the ship back home. It was a strange feeling that hung in the air when she laid the ship down. Anxiety, love, curiosity, anger, sadness, regret and comfort combined in a concoction of suffocating agony. The man, Tony Stark, exited the ship and immediately everyone rushed to his aid.

It was hours before Carol felt it appropriate to check on him. What she didn't know was with one simple step into the room and question of his state she'd find a new friend. Pepper, his wife she'd found out, and James, his best friend, had dozed off after he'd finally woken up. A telling off of her fellow captain even without knowing the history behind it was very satisfying, but exhausting for the man who was dying just moments before. He had woken up a while ago and sent his closest loved ones to slumber safe in the knowledge that their Tony was back home, tiring jokes and all. She poked her head in, waving a hand.

"Hey, Carol, is it?" He asked in a stage whisper. She nodded, closing the door softly behind her. "Thanks for saving me and all. Big fan of that whole photon glow thing you have going on-"

"You don't have to do that." She muttered, knowing exactly what he was trying to; she knew it like the back of her hand. "Look, I'm not gonna ask how you are because I know you'll just say you're fine in the form of some snarky comment-"

"So you're me, if I was blonde, female and an alien?" The sincerity in her tone made him uneasy just as all captains did.

"I'm of the human disposition, unfortunately. Survived a blast from the tesseract, absorbed its energy and here we are." An odd sense of pride settled in her heart when he smirked. "I don't know what went on with you guys," she gestured to the captain pacing outside with Natasha, "but I want you to know that I don't give a shit. That rant, that was fucking satisfying as anything. And I know he deserved it." She settled into the empty seat beside Pepper as he chuckled. "I've seen the tapes. Of you fighting," and Tony was struck with the terrible feeling that he was going to be made to question his morals. "You're a good man. You fight for what's right, anyway you can, but you still take more precautions than the rest of them to preserve civilian lives. I think we'll get along just fine." They sat there until the morning, getting to know each other. Carol heard countless stories of Peter Parker, the brave kid from Queens, and his far too loyal for her own good wife whilst Tony heard about the ever-aging family she can never manage to say goodbye to when she leaves and tales about a young, two-eyed Nick Fury. When she left in the morning, a bond had already been formed.

Over the course of a very long half-decade where the skies were embedded with a thick pall of ash that was formerly living loving things, Carol dropped by every now and then. Her holographic meetings with Natasha, a woman she'd grown quite fond of, were nice but that was the only contact she had with earth. Her days spent on the planet were reserved for one small, broken family. Catch ups with the Starks. Baby Morgan, who got older each time and Carol didn't like it, staring in awe at the glowing lady. Pepper, who's smile lit up the room, slinging an arm around her shoulders. Tony, who still mourned the loss of his mentee, bringing her into bone crushing hugs that got ever so slightly weaker each time.

When he died, Carol was lost. She had Maria and Monica and Nick back, but at the cost of Tony's life. It was all tainted, but she couldn't bring herself to be angry with the man. She didn't get to see Peter Parker at the funeral, only met him once in the midst of their war. He was a kind boy with a strength almost equal to her own. She instantly found herself vowing to protect him at all costs and she knew that'd mean mentoring him when he was ready to be a hero once more.

☆☆☆

It's a year later when Peter finally finds the strength to go back to the compound. May had called up Rhodey a while ago and asked for his opinion on the subject.

"When he's ready, we'll be waiting. He's an avenger, but we still need time after something like this." James regretted that last part when the kind woman's inquiries into his wellbeing brought tears to his eyes and a lump to his throat.

Peter said he needed a little more time. He thought he should be a normal teenager for a while because,

"It's what Tony would have wanted."

When the day came, May was beyond apprehensive. Peter had been more fidgety than usual, somehow, so much so that she could practically feel the sickening vibrations of excitement and anxiety. She drove him to the compound with tensed shoulders and nervous glances at the passenger seat. Peter smiled at her each time, it hurt to go there with the guarantee of no Tony but he was ready to be back to his normal as can be superhero career. May had to resist the urge to walk him to the door with two strong hands on his shoulders. He could practically see her thoughts and took her hands in his when he was out of the car. She walked him in, greeting Happy with a smile as Rhodey pulled Peter towards the meeting room. They didn't say goodbye. Didn't have to.

"Alright, kid. Now, we're gonna ease you back in. Most of us are away on business, but there's somebody who's looking forward to meeting you. Properly, anyway." He held the door open for him and the blonde lady, Captain Marvel he vaguely remembered her being called in the letters Tony had written for him, turned around.

"Hey, Peter Parker." She smiled. He ignored the way his heart skipped a beat at the small flashback of the battle and let the grin tug the corner of his lips up.

"Captain Marvel?" His words dripped with adoration.

"Please, call me Carol. Captain Marvel is my mother." She joked before backtracking at the incredulous look on his face. "No. Um, not really. I was just joking. All human, you see. Just absorbed the energy of the tesseract so now I can do this," she points a clenched fist at the wall and a photon blast leaves a scorch mark.

"Come on, man. I thought we stayed in contact because we're both the only no nonsense avengers." Rhodey groaned.

"We are, but, James, there's a child in the room. Unlike you, I'm great with kids." She replied coolly, bumping shoulders with Peter.

"Okay, one, I'm nearly eighteen-"

"So still a kid." She interrupted, but was swiftly ignored by the boy.

"And, two, your name is James?" He laughed as Rhodey grumbled something about a headache and walked out.

"Carol Danvers at your mentoring service." She bowed, grinning.

"You're going to be my new mentor?" He asked, shaking off the waver in his voice.

"I mean, I know I'm off world a lot but yeah. I don't see why not. I'm the best influence here. You're basically as strong as me and your webs mean you can fly. Kind of. You get what I mean. The only difference is, I can shoot the power of an infinity stone out of my fists." Peter's eyes widened in awe. The beam on his face ached and he thought it was physically impossible for it to grow anymore. He couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled like this so genuinely. However, the lightness of the air quickly evolved into a serious atmosphere as she sat down and motioned for him to take a seat. He complied immediately, heart freezing in fear of what was to come. "Tony told me a lot about you," and there it was. He sucked in a deep breath and knew his new, out of this world, insanely cool mentor was watching him deteriorate. "Hey, hey. Take a deep breath. Heroes are allowed to be scared. The best ones usually are." She smiled kindly yet sadly. "Do you want me to carry on?" Peter nodded, steeling himself with the necessity of hearing what was to be said.

"I do." He confirmed.

"He told me how brave you are, how strong and kind and respectful. How you'd do anything to please him, but you weren't afraid to stand up to him when he was being stubborn. He admired you more than he'd ever get to admit. Said his biggest regret was not telling you how much you meant to him when you were alive. He loved you, Pete. And, not to make this about me or anything, I knew I would to when you were polite enough to introduce yourself to me whilst holding the doom of the universe in your tired arms." She stood abruptly as her — was that a pager? — pager beeped. "I have to go. Rhodey has your way of contacting me whenever you need me. Whether it's life threatening stuff or you just need to talk, please get in touch." She pulled him into a newly comforting embrace before ushering him out of the door. "I want to meet this 'hot aunt' of yours." He found yet another smile forming on his face.

Happy stopped mid-sentence and looked over May's shoulder. She turned around, fearing the dejected look she was sure to see on Peter's face and the furrowed brow on Rhodey's. Instead, she found her grinning nephew next to a woman who seemed to be glowing. An expression of pure amazement tugging at his face.

"Hello?" May offered her hand. Carol took it, pulling a face of approval.

"You must be the wonder aunt, May Parker. You raised a wonderful boy and the world's safer for it. Thank you." Carol noticed they were still holding hands and blushed slightly as she coughed, retracting her gloved hand.

"Um, thanks?" May asked uncertainly as an inexplicable smile spread across her face.

"No problem. Sorry this has to be an abrupt meeting, but too many planets to save and too little time to save them. Bye, Peter, May." She nodded before retreating to the doors.

"Who's that?" May asked as they watched her shoot off into the sky.

"Carol Danvers. My new mentor." Peter looped his arm through May's and began recounting the wonderfully bizarre encounter he'd just had.

[littlemissvincentvega]

First of all, I always love catching up on your fics cause they're amazing. Second, do you think you could do a bit of a fic with the dogs and reader going on a camping trip? I feel like these idiots would fucking nearly die out in the wilderness alone 🙃🙃🙃🤣

first of all i adore u thank u odojdosdlaskj ♥♥

and yes i can!!! thats amazing LOL also i’m so so sorry this took so long!! i hope u like it bb :DDDD lots of love xxx

-

“Where’s the cigs? Where are my fuckin’ cigs?!” spits Mr. Pink, twisting and turning in the backseat, fumbling around trying to find the pack.

“Would you sit still?” sighs White from the driver’s seat, glancing at him through the lopsided rear view mirror. “Thought you quit, anyways?”

“I did.” He glares at Brown, who is squinting at his Gameboy. “Are you quite finished?”

…

Nothing. “Hello? Am I fuckin’ invisible?”

“Huh?” Brown mumbles, eyes fixated on the screen.

Slightly disgruntled, Mr. White turns to Pink, hands clamped on the wheel. “Can you just leave him to play on his video game and stop bein’ a little shit about it? Please?”

“A half hour. A half hour of that shitty Tetris playin’ over and over, so ex-fuckin-scuse me if it starts to grate!” Pink scowls, crossing his arms and rolling the window down. Sighing dramatically, he stares out of it, not a word more. 

“I beat my high score!” exclaims Brown, a few minutes later.

Orange turns around to him, his head between the two front seats. “Nice one, man. Gimme a turn now?”

“Sure,” he says, passing it over. Pink watches this from the corner of his eye, secretly wanting a turn, but he isn’t prepared to swallow his pride– not now, not ever.

“Hey, White, how long till we get there?” Brown asks.

“Uh… ‘bout an hour or so? Ain’t so sure, how long we been on the road?”

Brown checks his watch. “Forty-six minutes exactly.”

“Yeah, ‘bout an hour then, if the traffic treats us well.”

-

“How d’ya think Pink’s copin’ with Brown, then?” Blonde asks, a smirk present on his lips. He’s driving the other car accompanied by Mr. Blue and Nice Guy Eddie, and it’s a million times less drama-filled than White’s.

Eddie scoffs. “Fuck knows. Probably strangled him by now,” he says, and the three guys share a chuckle.

“You should give ‘em a call, I could use some entertainment.”

Eddie grins mischievously and pulls out his clunky-ass cellphone, dialling Mr. Pink’s number. “Hello??”

“Pink, it’s Ed. How’s it with you guys?” he asks, sharing a smirk with Blonde.

“It’s fuckin’ impeccable.”

“Less of the attitude, motherfucker.”

“Ask him how Mr. Brown is,” whispers Blonde, nudging Eddie.

“How’s Brown?” Ed sniggers.

“Don’t talk to me about that– that little retard!” Pink splutters, eyeballing Brown.

Eddie tuts loudly. “What did I say about the attitude? How far away are you guys, anyway?”

“I dunno, like an hour, White said earlier?”

“A’ight. Sive drafely, man.”

“What?”

Eddie sighs, smiling at Blonde. “Just don’t fuckin’ crash the car, okay? I’ll see you guys later.”

“Yeah. See ya.”

-

At least an hour and a half later, White pulls over, the wheels crumbling over the gravel. Mr. Orange flings the door open and jumps out, looking up at the trees towering over them. Rather than staying at a family-friendly campsite type of place, Eddie had opted for a slightly dangerous forest that a friend of Joe’s had recommended. There’s no sound of human civilisation to be heard, only the rustling of leaves and sweet birdsong, though White suspects that it wouldn’t be quite so uneventful when dusk arrives. “It’s so warm,” says Orange, taking off his leather jacket and chucking it on the passenger seat.

“It’s too warm,” Pink groans. “Christ, even my asscrack is sweaty.”

“Do you have to?” asks White, screwing his nose up in disgust. “We’re surrounded by all this beautiful nature and you’re talkin’ about your asscrack?” He places his hands on his hips waiting for Pink’s response.

“What do you expect me to do? Not tell you?”

White chuckles, defeated, and opens the trunk. “Jesus Christ. C’mon, help me get the tent out.” Despite Mr. Pink’s concerted effort in trying to convince Eddie to let him have his own tent (”I need fuckin’ privacy, come on!”), he had been unsuccessful. “I’ll share with Mr. Blonde, you share with Mr. Blue and Mr. Brown, White can share with Orange,” he had decided.

“Can’t he help instead? It’s boiling,” complains Pink, nodding at Brown– he’s slumped in the backseat with his head leaning against the car door and his mouth wide open, fast asleep.

“Nah, he’s sleepin’, leave him to it for a bit. I’m not havin’ you two bickering while we set up the tent.”

Pink huffs, scowling at White when he has his back turned, but helps heave the tent out of the trunk while Orange gets everyone’s belongings out of the car. White looks up at him with a smile. “Thanks, kid, just leave ‘em there.”

“Sure.” Just as he says this, the other car pulls up a little too close to Pink, who screeches when he almost gets run over. “What the fuck was that, man?!” he splutters, waving his arms about at Mr. Blonde.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t see ya there,” Blonde sniggers, stepping out of the car, the gravel crunching beneath his cowboy boots. Pink throws a dirty look and continues to help lay out the tent. “Where’s Brown?”

“Asleep,” Orange mutters.

“What’s up, fuckers?” bellows Eddie, striding out of the car and stretching. “Woah, fuckin’ beautiful here, huh?” he adds, admiring the scenery.

Blue emerges from the backseat, his hair a little fluffed up– presumably, he had been asleep for some of the journey. “Not bad here,” he remarks, whipping out his cigar and lighting it, his moustache furrowing.

It’s almost as if Mr. Brown has spidey-senses or something– at that moment, he had stirred, taking a minute to fully wake up. “Oh, hey guys!” he beams, knocking on the car window and waving at the other Dogs.

“Christ, here we go…” Pink mutters under his breath.

Yawning, Brown jumps out of the car. “How can I help? I wanna help!”

“By gettin’ back in the car?”

“Huh?” asks Brown, not catching what Pink says and marching over to White & Orange. After a LOT of bickering and arguing about how to put up the tents, the boys finally stand back and admire their handiwork. By now, the sky has turned a beautiful honey shade, the warm colours melting into one another.

-

“Where’s the damn food?” Eddie asks. All of the guys are sitting around a campfire that Blonde had managed to light (after a good round of arguing, obviously).

Blonde shrugs. “Thought Brown was s’posed to bring it?”

“Was I?”

If looks could kill, Brown would have been laying dead right then and there. Pink glares at him, not even blinking. “Yes,” he says through gritted teeth, “you were.”

Brown laughs nervously, six pairs of eyes on him. “No I wasn’t– you guys put me in charge of snacks.”

“Kid, we put you in charge of food. Y’know, as in the shit we’d hafta cook up & eat?” answers White, keeping his cool. “But what snacks did you bring?”

Brown jumps up and fetches his bag of food while the guys share pitiful glances with one another. “Uhh… Oreos, potato chips, some Wonka candy, Dunkaroos, cheese balls and… Hubba Bubba.”

“Hubba Bubba? You brought gum? That ain’t a fuckin’ snack,” Eddie scoffs, chuckling.

“I know, but it tastes good.”

“So what you’re sayin’ is you brought fuckin’ kiddie food,” Pink scowls. Although pissed off (it doesn’t take much let’s be honest), he snatches the cheese balls off of Brown and crams a few in his mouth.

Orange shrugs, leaning over and taking the Wonka candy. “I don’t care, this shit’s pretty good. S’better than nothin’.”

“Yeah. Pass me some balls, Mr. Pussy,” Eddie smirks.

To make things easier, Brown lays down a scarf of his (he had packed three, just in case) and carefully places all of the snacks on it. It’s a strange concoction, admittedly, but like Orange had said, better than nothing.

-

As dusk approaches, the sky is a deep purple and the wind rustles through the trees. It’s slightly eerie, but the atmosphere is light, so none of them really mind. They’re all still around the fire, now lying on blankets Brown had packed, sharing stories and having the occasional bicker. “Do you guys believe in werewolves?”

“What?”

The guys blink at Brown, who’s gazing up at the moon. He’s laying wrapped in his blankets with his hands behind his head. “I was just thinkin’ about An American Werewolf In L–”

“No, hold up. What the fuck does that have to do with our damn conversation?” Blonde demands, chuckling. He takes a drag of his cigarette and exchanges a smirk with Eddie.

“It doesn’t.”

“Christ, that’s my cue to leave. I’m tired,” Blue sighs, smiling to himself. “You guys are too much.”

“If you’re sure. Night, man,” Ed smiles. The other guys say goodnight and watch Mr. Blue disappear into the biggest tent (which, to be honest, isn’t so big). Blonde flicks the ash from his cig into the fire, his baby blue eyes lit up from the gentle flames.

Fidgeting slightly, Brown flops onto his back, putting his hands behind his head. “Camping is boring.”

“No, it’s fuckin’ dangerous is what it is,” Pink huffs.

White looks at him, nudging Orange with a smug smile. “Alright Mr. Expert, why’s it so dangerous?”

Pink sits upright and glares at him. “Well… well– what if a fuckin’ bear mauls us?”

“Be a fuckin’ miracle if he mauls you, that’s just about the only thing that’d shut your goddamn mouth.”

“Fuck you, man! I gotta take a squirt, where’s the bathroom?”

Pink looks across at Eddie, who shrugs. “How the fuck should I know?”

“Well where am I supposed to piss?”

“Blonde’s hair. Could use a wash.”

Vic drops his cigarette at the sound of this. A perfect opportunity to play-fight. “You’re a little bitch, anyone ever told you that?” he chuckles, pouncing on his chubby friend and tackling him to the ground, soiling that violently blurple windbreaker jacket of his. “I’ll piss in your fuckin’ mouth, ya little bastard!”

Eddie breaks into laughter, struggling to get Vic in a headlock as they tumble around. Meanwhile, the other guys are sat blinking at one another– it’s safe to say that random outbreaks of play-fighting between those two are a regular occurrence. “Brown, you come with me, I can’t deal with all this gayness. You need a piss too?” Pink sighs, grabbing a flashlight from his bag.

“Yeah, I guess we can do it on a tree.”

With that, the two saunter off to go find a spot away from the other guys, leaving Orange and White to deal with Ed & Vic. “You two fuckasses finished yet?” White pipes up, running a hand through his hair and earning a snicker from Orange.

Panting, Eddie breaks away from Vic, shoving him back down and taking a seat himself. He wipes his sweaty forehead with his sleeve, his cheeks rosy. “Think so. Think I won there, don’cha agree, Blondie?”

“I think I fuckin’ won, Edward.”

“Agree to disagree?”

“Bunch a queers, you guys,” Orange sniggers, nudging White.

“Oh yeah? What are you two then? You’re practically White’s twink!” Eddie retorts. He throws a couple of cheeseballs at them both as they all share a chuckle, the fire still crackling and throwing white-hot lashes at their skin. Sighing in contentment, he lays down (not bothered in the least about the dirty ground), gazing up at the sky– upon seeing this, the other Dogs do the same, admiring the masses of tiny stars. 

-

“HEEEELP!!”

…

“HELLO? AM I FUCKIN’ INVISIBLE? HEEEEELP!!”

Pink looks around in a panic, his head whipping from one direction to another. How the hell did they even manage to do this? ‘I swear,’ he thinks, ‘if I die here tonight I’ll make it fuckin’ known it was Brown’s fault.’

“Uh, Pink?”

“What?”

“Uh, technically if you were invisible they could still hear you, like, it’s in the name, man. Invisible? Like vision? So they’d still be able–”

Pink cuts brown off with one of his deadly glares. He’s impatient at the best of times, but they’d managed to get lost in the middle of a pitch-black forest at night-time with no cellphone, no way of contacting the others and, worse of all, stuck with Mr. Brown. Trying to keep calm, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Just help me yell for them, alright?”

“They should be able to hear, I mean, it’s not like we’re that far away.”

He scoffs, marching in what they assume is the direction they came in. “We wouldn’t have to yell if you’d have just listened to me.”

“Fuck you, man, I didn’t do anything!”

“‘Ooh, let’s take this fuckin’ turn,’” Pink mocks in a higher-pitched voice, waving his hands around, “‘Yeah, that’s really fuckin’ safe, why don’t we just get our dicks out and stick a sign there sayin’ ‘FREE FOOD’ for the bears to see?’”

Frowning to himself, Brown quietens down, trailing behind him like an ashamed puppy. He kicks a few twigs as he saunters behind Pink, wishing they could just get back already. After a couple of silent minutes (aside from the sound of wet leaves beneath their feet, the swishing of leaves in the night’s winds and the very distant smell of the smoke from their campfire), he speaks. “What if somethin’ bad happened to ‘em?”

“Shut up, nothin’ bad’ll’ve happened. Even if it has, they’ve got their guns. So shut up, they’re fine.” Although it’s in a snappy manner, it’s Pink’s best effort at showing a smidge of reassurance.

“If you say so, man. Sorry if I, uh, y’know, pissed you off back there.”

“Whatever, it’s nothin’. Just help me yell for ‘em, knowing those queer bastards they’re probably in the tents fuckin’ each other or some shit,” Pink scoffs, a slight smirk present on his face. It’s barely visible, but it’s there. A little more at ease, Brown manages a nervous chuckle and precedes to help his colleague holler for the other boys.

-

“Hey, what the fuck is this?! An orgy? We were fuckin’ stranded out there, didn’t you hear us yelling?”

Pink emerges from a few trees and stomps over to the campfire, a subtle shiver about him. Whether it’s from the temperature or the situation, the others can tell he’s shaken up. After a few seconds, Brown follows, looking equally as uneasy. “We yelled and yelled and none of you motherfuckers responded!” spits Pink, glaring at them all lying on their backs.

“Why are you guys lying like that?” Brown asks.

“Didn’t hear ya,” says Blonde. “Well, we did, but we thought it wasn’t important. You only went for a piss. A piss is a piss.”

White rests his head on his elbow, looking up at the two. “Did you get mauled by a bear?”

Pink scowls. “No.”

“So what’s the fuckin’ problem?”

“Fuck you guys, I’m goin’ to bed. Rather listen to Blue have a fuckin’ wet dream than be around you pieces’a shit. G’night,” he huffs, disappearing into the tent without another word.

“I think I’m gonna go to bed too, I’m tired,” Brown sighs. “And it was pretty scary out there. But it’s been a good night, thanks you guys.”

White smiles at him. “Thanks, kid. Have a good sleep.”

“Night, man,” adds Orange.

After exchanging a lot of goodnights with the other dogs, Brown crawls into the tent and, soon enough, the guys can hear him sleeping soundly– and by that I mean quietly snoring. “Don’t hafta see him to know his mouth’s wide fuckin’ open,” Orange jokes, looking across at the tent. He yawns, stretching out on his blanket. “I could sleep right here.”

“Yeah, me too, man,” Ed agrees.

“You guys are fuckin’ gay,” smirks Blonde, earning a slap on his cheek from Eddie. 

“Says the guy who tried to fuck me in Daddy’s office.”

“You little bastard–” Vic begins, a smile full of mischief appearing on his face. Two seconds later and they’re tumbling on the ground in a tangle of arms & legs while Mr. White & Orange sit watching, chowing down on some potato chips.

Orange leans in to speak to White, “I wish I’d have brought my camera, Joe’s reaction to this would’a been priceless.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re in luck, my friend,” White smirks, reaching over for his bag, “because I just so happened to bring my little Polaroid. Thought I’d never use it but I grabbed it on the way out just in case.” He hands it to Orange, who promptly squints into the viewfinder and snaps a picture. The second the flash goes off, both Ed and Vic’s heads snap round to look at the two laughing guys, utterly confused. 

“What the fuck are you two doin’? Did you just take a fuckin’ picture of us?” Eddie asks, eyes wide and curious. 

“Might have done.”

“Give it here, I wanna see if I look like a fatass.” Eddie scrambles for the camera, but Orange holds it out of his reach. Besides, White has the polaroid in his pocket. “Give it, motherfucker!”

Mr. Blonde is lying on his back now, hands behind his head and watching them squabble. “Forget it, Ed,” he says suavely, “you’ll look like a fatass either way.”

“Queer.”

“Asshole.”

The four share a chuckle, obviously not meaning anything by the bickering. With a yawn, Orange grabs a blanket and begins to stand up. “I’m fuckin’ exhausted, I’m going to bed. See you assholes tomorrow,” he snickers.

“I’ll join you,” White replies. “G’night, you two.” His laughter lines showing a little more after the night’s dumb escapades. He and Orange disappear into their tent as Vic & Eddie insult them goodnight. It’s quiet after that, the two remaining guys lying looking up at the stars, utterly mesmerised. The campfire crackles scarcely and, after hoisting blankets over themselves, the boys accidentally fall asleep in the midst of the night. 

-

OK RIGHT i’ve just finished writing this post but i think i’mma do it as a 2 part thing bc i feel like this is pretty long for one of my fics. like the next morning/travelling home etc will be in part 2 :) \DKLASJLKDA I WANNA GO CAMPING W THESE PRICKS NOW LOL

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

🏰⚔️🐲 DMODT- 25 update... ugh... someone taser me, I need a jump start

They said that "there's no rest for the wicked", and Eren felt that way. Levi had come back in when the maid had brought him something to eat, but as news of his awakening spread, so did the number of people in the bedroom. First came Levi, then came Mikasa and Armin, both lecturing him about his lack of carefulness, and finally to round out the group, Erwin appeared. Seeing the bandaged stump, was like another bitter blow, chasing his nonexistent appetite further away... especially when he was only one eating, with four sets of eyes on his every move. When he'd tried to place down the bowl of porridge he was playing with, both Levi and Mikasa glared at him, until he finally forced himself to shovel it down. The two alphas were already engaged in a silent scent battle, Levi's scent had held a tinge of coolness, that had set Mikasa off, and now it was getting quite putrid. Even if they couldn't smell it themselves, his sensitive nose could, like he could smell a fresh herbal concoction coming from Erwin's stump. The only one not giving him grief was Armin, but the blond clearly hadn't slept. He looked almost as sickly as Eren felt, yet he couldn't offer Armin any comfort. If he did, he risked making Mikasa jealous, which would make Levi jealous, and Erwin would think even less of him. When the maid came to collect his dishes, Eren nearly threw himself on her and begged to be taken away with the dishes. Shooting her a pleading look, it went ignored, leaving him with no choice back to take things into his own hands. Pushing the blankets down, Eren wrinkled his nose at his own smell. He stank of sickness and fever, with touches of slick. It wasn't pleasant at all "Eren, what are you doing?" "I'm getting out of bed" Placing her hand on his, Mikasa stared into his eyes "You've just woken. You need your rest" "I've woken to find out I caused a whole fuck load of issues, then found myself being watched as ate. Seriously, you all watched me eat, and it was silent. Nothing stopped you talking, nothing but yourselves. I'm healed physically, but I stink. I'm taking a shower, and don't even think about asking if I need help" "Eren..." "Mikasa, drop it. You should have been taking care of Armin. He looks exhausted, but I bet you didn't tell him he needed to rest. Prince Erwin, it's not proper for you to be here, and Levi, you should be resting. I may have been unconscious, but that didn't mean you all needed to fall apart over it. It's hardly needed, and frankly it's a bit of an insult. I don't need you all holding my hand. None of us know what's going on, and we won't until we sit down and discuss things in detail. I need to take a shower, and you all need to pull yourselves together" Armin was the only one who didn't look mad over his outburst. Ignoring the three alpha's, Armin moved to "help" him off the bed, before giving him a quick hug "You're right. I feel like I could sleep for a month. I'm really happy you're awake" Hugging Armin, the moment passed in a few seconds "Thanks, Armin. I'm sorry I made you worry" "No, from what I understand, Prince Erwin and Levi were lucky you were there" "I don't know about that. Now go rest, and take Mikasa with you" "I'm going. Mika, we should go sleep" "You go, I'll stay" Half kneeling back on the bed, Armin grabbed Mikasa's hand "If you want him to rest, then we need to leave him to it" "But..." "Armin is right. Both of you have been pushing yourselves so hard. Please go rest, I'll make sure you're notified if anything happens" Levi's voice was smooth, and uncomfortable to hear. Or, to Eren it was. The man was always polite, but he had a completely different way of being polite. It was like there was a frostiness to his politeness, that rubbed both him, and his omega, the wrong way. He may have also been still sulking over Levi leaving him the moment woke, and that they had no time to talk before bombarded. Showered thoroughly, Eren didn't even get a moments peace in the bathroom. Historia had sent Steege in with a change of clothes, and the normally stoic dragon had decided that meant standing guard while a made scrubbed him from head to foot. He hated every second of it. Yes, he was weakened, and probably would have passed out had he showered alone, but an escort was annoying. It wasn't until he was dressed in fresh robes that he realised the reason he was being watched, was because he wasn't trusted. Moving to take the robe's top tie from the maid, the woman flinched away from him. Telling himself it was surprise, he ignored it, only for the woman to flinch away again when he went to help with the sash around his waist. He normally didn't wear robes this complicated, but these seemed to be a set of Steege's robes instead of his own. Thanking the woman was the final nail in his theory, she gave a small cry as his words, before rushing from the room... he'd scared them. He'd lost control of his magic and he'd scared them. Dragons acted with dignity and grace, while he'd continued to lose control of his magic and cause issues... from the moment he'd arrived there, he'd always managed to inconvenience someone, no matter how hard he worked or kept to himself. The maid had probably felt disgusted over washing his body, like he was some kind of mutant thing... and if she though him so bad, it was probably thanks to Rod. He ruled his house staff with a tight leash, when he wasn't drunk and chasing after the female maids... All of it was his fault. No matter what anyone else said. He'd been too weak to save his mum when Marley soldiers laid siege to Shinganshima, and he was just as weak now. He hadn't changed. He hadn't grown. He was still the same kid watching his mother being slaughtered. Instead of returning to the bedroom, Steege led him through the house and to the first floor library. Opening the door, the dragon revealed Freya, Historia, Erwin and Levi. The four of them staring down at the sword that had caused so much pain. Unintentionally meeting Levi's eye, the man was quick to look away, Eren's breath catching. Rising to her feet, Historia frowned at him as she went to raise her hand "Eren? Are you ok?" "I can't... I can't do this right now" "You don't have to speak, but Freya..." "I can't! I can't deal with Obsydin, and his stupid cursed sword!" Clamping a hand over his mouth, Eren shook his head. He hadn't meant to yell. He just... He couldn't do this. Not at the moment. Not until he'd sat down and got his emotions back under control. He could feel his magic responding to Levi's presence, urging him to move to the alpha's side. But he couldn't do it... He needed to regain control of himself, and the sparks forming at his fingertips. He needed to centre himself and pull himself out this unwanted flunk that plagued him... Turning, he ran. Well, he rushed the best he could, to get away from the room. He needed to think, something that was impossible with Levi right there. Making it outside the manor, he shifted to his dragon form the moment he was far away enough from the manor to not cause damage. The effort and strain on his body was enormous, but as he took to the air, it felt right. With wings as large and as powerful as his, it only took minutes to make it to the peninsula between Draecia and Eldia. Landing on the Draecia, he stared across the exposed reef, as he shifted back to his human form. He didn't belong in Draecia, and he didn't belong in Eldia. He was a dragon with no home. * Watching Eren flee, Levi bit down his desire to chase the teen. It was no secret that they were all taking it hard, but unlike Eren, both he and Erwin had some time to talk and adjust to the new situation. For Levi, he couldn't remember anything after Eren's magic spiralling out of control, until he woke with a raging fever, the open sores across his body pushing out small rapidly forming scales due to Eren's magic. It'd felt like hell, or the closest Levi had ever been. Day after day they'd raced to form, before the wound bursting and the razor sharp scales being expelled. It wasn't until the morning of his third day suffering that that had finally passed, leaving him weakened and sleeping a solid 12 hours before waking to Erwin's ugly face. His first request had been to see Eren, despite everyone's insistence that he slept. He didn't want to sleep. His dreams were twisted and terrifying, Filled with flame and death, while the taste of ash and mud had seemingly taken up permanent residence in his mouth, as had a constant coldness that left his core chilled, no matter how many furs or blankets he bundled himself up in. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took a long breath "Aren't you going after him?" He didn't need Historia's lecture. She'd already told him that Eren was emotional, and blaming himself. Which he could feel bleeding through their bond, even though their bond felt slightly weird. Clearing his throat, Steege shook his head "Eren's just left the manor grounds. I suggest you leave him be" "Steege, will you go?" Freya's voice was soft, where as Levi wanted to order the dragon to. His temper wasn't helped by the constant throb at the base of his skull... "There's no need. I'm sure his Highness would have heard Eren, and dispatched someone to collect him" Both Freya and Historia paled, Historia sinking back into her seat "Princess?" Looking to Erwin with fearful eyes, Historia didn't reply to him. Taking her hand, Freya gave a firm nod "I'll go to father. I'll talk to him" "But... This involves the magic of Obsydin. I don't know if he'll listen" "He'll listen. I'll make sure he does" "You know what he's like!" "I do. That's exactly why I'll go. Please remain here with Erwin and Levi. I'm sure they have many questions" "That's why Eren needs to be here to" "Historia, father wouldn't dare risk breaking the peace in Draecia. I'll make him see sense" From what Levi knew of Rod, that would be an uphill battle... "Perhaps Erwin should go with you? And explain how this all came about" "Father won't listen to an outsider, even the crown prince of Eldia" Historia nodded at her sister's word, before looking to Steege again "Steege, can you please see who father has sent? Maria may be prepared to listen, but Sina and Rose will act upon his wishes" "Shall I ask Ymir to join you?" "She's probably on her way up to scold Eren. This was all too much, too fast for him. No wonder he couldn't cope. First he's sure that Levi hates him, and then he blames himself..." "Don't forget father didn't want him left alone inside the manor" Say what? Levi hadn't heard about that, but then again, he'd been by Eren's side, as had Historia when she could be, and Ymir during the night "Eren is hardly a danger. I think it would have been hard to see any of us witnessing our riders go through what Levi had. Personally, I believe it was thanks to his quick thinking that things weren't even worse than they are. Erwin would have been killed by the spreading magic, and Levi's infection would have been so much worse if Eren hadn't thought to sheath the sword as fast as he had. If Levi had come in contact with the bone, fang or scale, he may have also died. And it was his magic that prevented Levi from falling under the full effects of the sword..." If he wasn't experiencing the full effect, he didn't want to know how much worse it could have been. Shifting uncomfortably, he looked over to Steege who was still standing there. Pushing herself up lightly, Freya smiled at him. He had no fucking idea why, but he didn't like it... His alpha was starting to get angsty over their separation from Eren "Of course. You're quite right, Levi. Steege and I shall take our leave. Historia, please stay with our visitors for now. Father should have no problems with you supervising two humans" "I wasn't intending on leaving. I am well aware of what he can be like" When Freya and Steege left, Historia gathered herself up on the sofa, plucking up the cushion into her hold "Historia, what was this about Eren not being unsupervised?" Levi was thankful that Erwin had his voice, his own seemed to have deserted him "Just my father overreacting. Eren's magic is strong, and the destructive power exhibited by blowing up the cabin lead to a lot of questions. I firmly believe Eren did the right thing, but... My father insists it could be seen as an act of aggression against Eldia, and also as an act of aggression against Draecia. He's a coward, set in his ways" "I assure you, this incident was a mistake on Eldia's behalf" Something inside Levi snapped, the words coming from his lips without him being able to stop them "A mistake on Eldia's behalf!? It was a mistake on your fucking behalf! Eren told you not to fuck around with the shitty sword, but you didn't listen. Now you've lost half your arm, you stupid bastard" Erwin's scent jumped to defensive anger, the alpha practically hissing "Really? I hadn't noticed" "You know what your problem is, you're the first to jump to assumptions when it relates to Eren!" "How do you expect me to trust him? Not when he seems to be one mystery after another, and rushing to climb back into bed with you" "He's my fucking boyfriend! He hasn't talked about it with anyone" "Don't you think he would have? If not for the command on him..." "You put another command on him! How dare you!" Grabbing Erwin by the shirt front, Levi snarled in the man's face. An uncontrollable anger rising from deep inside of him, as he hurled the man up off the sofa, then off his feet with ease "You will never place a command on him again. You will not touch him. You won't acknowledge him. You won't even be alone in the same room as him. That omega is mine" "L-Levi... your face" Smiling, Levi's eyes darkened as his teeth sharpened. His fingernails turning into long black claws as he hefted Erwin higher "He is mine. I want to hear you say it" "L-Levi..." For Levi, it was as if his mind had completely disconnected from his body, like someone had thrown up a wall between them. He could see the fear on Erwin's face, he could feel the anger swirling through his bloodstream. It would be so easy to reach up his other hand and snap Erwin's neck... The man's skin looked so smooth, while the carotid artery in his neck pulsed in a way that drew his attention to it... if he lowered him, he could easily tear the life from Erwin, and not feel a shred of guilt. No one had the right to harm that omega. That pathetic beast was his alone. Snarling, he pulled Erwin down, so they were face to face "Say it!" Erwin stuttered, making Levi's toothy smile grow wider. If the man pissed himself, it would be perfect... and what he deserved "I... Eren is yours. He's your omega, and your mate. I'll remove the commands" "Make sure you do. He's much to pretty to be wasted on the likes of you" Dropping Erwin, the man fell to sofa completely disheveled. Behind him, a firm hand grabbed his shoulder "That's enough" Spinning to growl at Historia, Levi never saw Ymir's blow coming. Knocked to the floor, Levi growled in confusion as he looked up to Ymir towering over him. The woman had just right hooked him, and he had no idea why... even if he was grateful she hadn't used her full strength or he'd probably be dead "Ymir!" "I won't have him threatening you, or his infection threatening you" Grabbing Ymir's arm, Historia's voice was soft but firm "There was no need to hit him like that" "I meant to knock him out... at least he's gone back to looking human enough for now" Back to human? "What... just happened?" Looking at his hands, they looked pretty human to him. His nails were a little longer than he'd normally kept them, but there wasn't any red streaks like Erwin's had had, nor were there scales "You don't remember?" Levi shook his head, pushing himself up and back onto the sofa "You told Erwin that Eren was yours, and to remove the commands on him. Do you really not remember?" "Save it, Historia. It's obviously a side effect of the infection and letting Eren run away. Seriously. What were you all thinking? You're supposed to be his boyfriend, but you've let him run off and take the blame for everything. Your not the same man you were when you arrived here. You've been aggressive towards everyone other than Eren, and now you're infected with blood of a dragon who was so evil, they've tried to erase him history. You've practically been cursed by it. There's no going back for you, so you need to suck it the hell up" At least Ymir was speaking him to frankly. Though he wasn't sure he understood. He'd blacked out in a fit of angry? Was that it? Glaring at her girlfriend, Historia looked fierce "Ymir!" "What? He appreciates my honesty, everyone does. Erwin fucked up, now Levi is paying for it" "We don't know that for sure!" "I'm pretty sure we do. He had claws and his eyes were pitch black. Also, he lifted Erwin right off his feet, and I don't care how strong Shorty is, he lifted Eyebrows up here off the ground by his shirt alone" Levi didn't like to brag how strong he was, and though slightly smaller, he could easily lift Eren and carry him around as if he weighed nothing... But Erwin, maybe. He'd never had cause to... "Levi, it's ok if you don't remember. We don't know the full effects of this infection" It wasn't ok with him. He could possibly hurt someone without realising... he could hurt Eren, without realising. "Levi?" Placing his hand on Levi's thigh, Erwin gave a firm squeeze "You're not to blame" No. Erwin was... and his ancestors for not destroying the sword. Why did they need to create such an abomination to begin with? "I know I'm not. I wasn't blaming myself. I just... the idea of not remembering. Perhaps it's best I'm restrained for now" The headache plaguing him had worsened, even as Eren's magic worked to heal him. Honestly, he was scared of himself. Blackouts were never a good thing, nor were blackouts caused by a three hundred year old dragon's curse. Ymir was right. This was more than an infection. The rapidly scales alone had proven that, now as he added up his symptoms in his head, he couldn't help but feel something was horribly wrong with him "Levi, I don't think we need to resort to such things" Ymir was quick to reply to her girlfriend "What happens if he loses it again? We're strong because of our dragon blood, but Erwin is flesh and bone. He won't survive Levi if he was to lose his mind" "I... then..." The princess was conflicted, it was as plain as the nose on her face "I think it is best I'm moved away from the rest of the manor's inhabitants. We cannot risk blowing this into an even bigger scene than it currently is" "But.." "Historia, I understand your position, but these are Levi's wishes..." Erwin could fuck off. Even if he didn't remember what happened, the man never should have placed a command of silence on Eren. So many times he'd wanted to ask why Eren had never called his name, or addressed his letters to him personally, and now he knew. It was cruel of Erwin to have left the command on Eren. The kid was a brat, who'd been through so much. He should have been freed from shackles of Eldia once he'd left it. Other than his vow, but Levi had been sure to tell him that his time here wouldn't go against the kingdom, as he'd feared Eren dying from betraying his vow. God. This whole thing was a headache and a half "I think I know a room you can use, but the sword will kept from you" "That's fine" He didn't want the stupid thing near him as it was... He'd destroy it if he could... but given neither Historia or her sister had, there was the possibility that they couldn't. Would be stuck with the blasted thing for the rest of his life? Cursed to keep it close, lest losing it lead to his death? "Very well. I'll take you down. Steege will probably be able to hear us as it is, and he'll notify Freya on your change of location" Levi gave a soft sigh. If only he'd stayed home and waited for Eren to return... or even better, if only he'd insisted Erwin had left him and Eren alone for the day. They could have finished the festival. He would have been able to present Eren with the gold bracelets he'd brought over, a gentle joke over the ones he'd worn when he'd arrived at the castle, and the gold dragon hair clip he'd had fashioned for Eren's long hair. He'd wanted to do more, but Eren had said no gold. He'd also said no fancy gem stones, but that hadn't happened either. The bracelets all had small gems, that weren't overly expensive in order not to upset Eren, as had the dragon hair clip. Before this had all happened, he would have given Eren the world if he'd asked, but now he had nothing at all to give him, or to gift him. Most of their belongings had been damaged in the explosion, if not destroyed, and thanks to his condition, he hadn't been able to inspect what was left...